#Creamy Cadillac

[wonderlesch]

Best Michigan Themed Cocktails

Best Michigan Themed Cocktails shares tasty recipes for a Creamy Cadillac, a Pentwater Beach Cocktail and more. hears to tasty cocktails Michigan style! #newblogpostalert #bestmichiganthemedcocktails #cocktailrecipes #cocktaillover #wonderlesch

Hello and welcome to Best Michigan Themed Cocktails. This latest blog post shares tasty cocktail recipes for a Creamy Cadillac Cocktail (perfect for the holidays and more). Discover a Detroit Old Fashioned (the Vernor’s Ginger Ale makes it a local favorite). And more. Tasty Cocktails Michigan style, yes please! Creamy Cadillac Recipe Fill cocktail shaker with ice. Add 2 ounces Galliano, 2…

[gatabella]

"Ava Gardner was the most beautiful woman I ever saw, much less met. I picked her up at the airport, and she could stop planes, not just traffic. There was no movie star nonsense with her, no entourage, no fawning press agents in tow. She was pushing her own bags on a cart, trying to be low in dark glasses and a tatty raincoat. But once I had her in the Cadillac and she took off the coat and the shades, I could barely steer straight. The first thing to hit me were those cats’ eyes of hers, green with flecks of gold and hypnotic as hell. She wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup, and her skin was creamy and flawless. Her hair was thick and lustrous. Then there was her body. She was five seven, sleek, but with amazing curves. She wasn’t wearing a bra, which was totally risque in those days. Defying gravity, she had no need of one. She had the ideal body, the kind that stars these days pay fortunes to plastic surgeons for. The best thing about her, though, was that she didn’t give a shit. She wasn’t trying to be hot, and she wasn’t trying to be grand. She was just trying to get away from it all."

-Mr S, The Last Word on Frank Sinatra by George Jacobs (valet of Frank Sinatra)

[videoddd]

This Mid-Century Cocktail Tastes Like Boozy Melted Ice Cream

The Golden Cadillac is a sweet and creamy mid-century cocktail that combines equal parts Galliano liqueur, white crème de cocoa and heavy cream. Poor Red’s, still in business in El Dorado, California, claims to be the birthplace of the Golden Cadillac in 1952. According to local lore, a newly engaged couple came to celebrate and asked bartender Frank Klein for a special cocktail. Supposedly…

[jamel420blogs]

How To Use Jungle Boys Vape Pen

What Is a Jungle Boys Disposable Vape Pen?

The Jungle Boys disposable vape pens are pre-filled with high-quality live resin cannabis oil, which delivers a potent and flavorful experience. They come in a variety of strains and flavors, like the highly rated “Jungle Cake” or “Sunset Sherbet,” each offering distinct effects and taste profiles that appeal to various preferences. Each pen is ready to use immediately, making them user-friendly for beginners and experienced users alike. These pens often contain high THC levels, around 82% in some variants, and are rechargeable to ensure you can use all the oil without any waste.

How To Use the Jungle Boys Vape Pen

The disposable vape pens from Jungle Boys are designed to be straightforward. Here’s how to make the most of your device:

Unpack and Inspect: When you receive your Jungle Boys vape pen, make sure the packaging is sealed and the pen looks secure. Some models include a QR code to verify authenticity, which helps avoid counterfeit products.

Activate by Drawing: Most Jungle Boys vape pens are draw-activated, so there’s no button to press. Simply inhale from the mouthpiece to activate the pen, and it will start producing vapor.

Inhale Slowly and Steadily: Start with a gentle inhalation to assess your tolerance. Inhaling too quickly can lead to stronger effects than anticipated, especially with THC levels above 80%. Take small puffs initially to gauge the potency.

Monitor Battery Life: Jungle Boys vape pens come pre-charged, but for models that allow recharging, you may want to plug in the charger occasionally. Look for a light indicator to signal when recharging is necessary. These vape pens typically use a USB micro-charger, making it easy to top off the battery as needed.

Store Properly: To retain the quality of the cannabis oil, store your vape pen in a cool, dry place, away from direct sunlight. This keeps the oil fresh and prevents degradation.

Dispose Responsibly: Once the pen is empty, follow your local disposal guidelines. Some regions have designated areas for electronic waste, ensuring the battery and components are disposed of safely.

Key Features of the Jungle Boys Disposable Vape Pens

Pre-Filled and Ready to Use: Jungle Boys pens come with pre-filled cannabis oil, usually containing either 1g or 2g options, making them convenient for immediate use.

Rechargeable Battery: Many Jungle Boys disposables are rechargeable, a useful feature if you want to maximize the full cartridge without running out of battery.

Variety of Flavors: Users can enjoy a range of strains and flavors, including “Loco Apricot,” “Dragon Breath,” and “Frozen Grapes,” which each provide unique flavor profiles and effects.

High Potency THC Levels: The live resin oil used is potent, typically around 80% THC, ensuring strong and immediate effects.

Ease of Use: With a draw-activated mechanism, there’s no learning curve. This design ensures smooth vapor production with minimal effort.

Popular Strains and Flavors Available

Jungle Boys offers a diverse selection of strains, each with its own unique profile:

Jungle Cake: Known for its smooth taste and relaxing effects, ideal for unwinding after a long day.

Spaceage Cake: Features an intense blend of flavors and effects, delivering a euphoric high.

Zkittles LA: Offers a sweet, fruity taste with relaxing effects, perfect for social settings.

Vanilla Velvet: Delivers a smooth, creamy taste and is favored for its balanced effects.

Live Resin Flavors: Options like “Pink Cadillac” and “Ice Cream Mint” bring vibrant taste profiles, enhanced by the live resin’s rich terpenes.

Tips for an Optimal Vaping Experience

Start Slow: Given the high THC levels, it’s wise to start with small, slow inhales to avoid overwhelming effects.

Maintain Cleanliness: Occasionally wipe the mouthpiece with a soft cloth to keep it free of debris, enhancing your draw.

Keep Track of Dosage: If you’re new to vaping, keep track of your inhalations to gauge tolerance and avoid overuse.

Recharge as Needed: For rechargeable models, charging every few days ensures the pen remains functional for longer.

Safety Tips for Jungle Boys Vape Pens

To ensure a safe and enjoyable experience with your Jungle Boys vape pen, keep these precautions in mind:

Use in a Controlled Environment: Because the THC potency is high, use the vape pen in a comfortable setting where you feel relaxed.

Avoid Heavy Machinery: Do not operate heavy machinery or drive after using the pen, as it may impair motor skills.

Store Away from Children: Keep the vape pen in a secure location away from children and pets.

Common Questions About Jungle Boys Disposable Vape Pens

Are Jungle Boys disposable pens rechargeable? Yes, some models are rechargeable. These pens are designed to prevent wasted oil, ensuring that you can use the entire cartridge.

How can I tell if my Jungle Boys vape pen is authentic? Look for features like a scannable QR code on the packaging, which links to the brand’s website for verification. This helps prevent counterfeit products.

What should I do if my vape pen stops working? If your pen is rechargeable, try connecting it to a charger to see if the battery is low. If it’s a non-rechargeable model, it may have run out of battery or oil, and you may need a new one.

How long does the effect last? The effects can vary based on tolerance and dosage but typically last between one to three hours.

Which flavors are recommended for beginners? Flavors like “Zkittles LA” or “Jungle Cake” offer a balanced experience with approachable flavors that may suit newcomers.

Do Jungle Boys pens produce a strong odor? While these pens offer strong flavors, they tend to produce a milder aroma than smoking, making them more discreet for indoor or on-the-go use.

Quick Tips for Using Jungle Boys Vape Pens

Inspect packaging for security seals and QR codes to confirm authenticity.

Take gentle puffs to start and increase as needed based on personal tolerance.

Recharge regularly if using a rechargeable pen, to avoid interruptions.

Store upright in a cool area to maintain oil quality and avoid leaks.

With these tips and best practices, you can maximize your experience with Jungle Boys disposable vape pens, enjoying the flavors and effects safely and effectively. Whether it’s for relaxation, social settings, or stress relief, Jungle Boys’ variety of strains and high-quality THC oil can elevate your vaping experience. Always check for authenticity and follow safe usage guidelines to make the most of this high-potency product.

For a smooth, enjoyable vape session, understanding how to use and care for your Jungle Boys vape pen can make a significant difference. Enjoy exploring the unique strains and flavors Jungle Boys has to offer.

[ramshornrestaurantram]

Ram's Horn - An Iconic Culinary Destination

Ram's Horn isn't just a restaurant - it's an institution. Rooted in tradition and history, this Michigan-based franchise is a testament to the power of quality food, a warm and welcoming ambiance, and exceptional teamwork.  For over five decades, Ram's Horn Restaurant has been a beloved culinary destination, serving up delicious fare to the Detroit community. But what truly sets this restaurant apart is its unwavering commitment to excellence and its extraordinary team.

The story begins in 1967 when the Kasapis brothers - Eugene, Constantinos (Gus), and Steve - opened the first restaurant in Detroit's Cadillac Square. Already seasoned in the restaurant business because of their father's influence, the brothers laid the foundation of a franchise that would, in the decades to come, leave an indelible mark on the culinary landscape of Detroit.

Over the years, they extended its footprint, with nearly one outlet in every community in metro Detroit. Each new restaurant was a fresh chapter in Ram’s Horn Restaurant Fraser story, adding new patrons to its ever-growing family. Today, under the capable leadership of Lee Drouillard, the palce continues its legacy in 12 locations across Metro Detroit, standing tall in a fiercely competitive industry.

As you step into any place of the franchise, you'll be enveloped in a vibe that is a harmonious blend of tradition and modernity. The interiors exude warmth and comfort, much like a cozy home. Vintage photos deck the walls, silently narrating the tale of the place’s inception, growth, and success. The modern touch springs from the ambient lighting, which casts a soft, welcoming glow and enhances the aesthetics of the restaurant.

This place is more than just a dining establishment – it's a microcosm of the broader community it serves. It's a place where people come together to share a meal, celebrate life's moments, or simply unwind after a long day. It fosters a sense of community, making patrons feel more like guests in a friend's home than customers in a restaurant.

The diverse menu at Ram's Horn Restaurant offers a culinary journey that is as rich and varied as the Detroit community itself. A key highlight of the menu is the sumptuous seafood section, featuring items like the Shrimp Dinner and Alaskan Pollock Fillets. Each seafood dish is prepared to perfection, ensuring that the fresh, delicate flavors of the sea are preserved and enhanced.

For those who prefer hearty dinners, this restaurant does not disappoint. Their classic dinner options include the tender Baby Beef Liver and the succulent Grilled Chicken Breast Dinner. Each dish is masterfully prepared, offering a delightful blend of flavors that satisfy and satiate.

But the true stars on the menu are the signature dishes. The famous 'Ram's Horn Super Burger,' a mouth-watering amalgamation of prime meat, fresh vegetables, and secret sauce, has been an all-time favorite among regulars. The 'Greek Gyro Sandwich,' with its perfectly cooked meat layered with fresh vegetables and tzatziki sauce, is another signature dish that keeps patrons coming back for more.

The dessert selection is as diverse and tempting as the main courses. Each dessert is a symphony of flavors, masterfully crafted to ensure a delightful end to your dining experience. The traditional Apple Pie, served warm with a dusting of cinnamon, is a perennial favorite, with its flaky crust and sweet, tart filling providing a comforting taste of home.

The New York Cheesecake is a tribute to the classic dessert, with its dense, creamy texture and subtly sweet flavor proving irresistible to patrons. For chocolate lovers, the Chocolate Cake, adorned with a generous layer of rich ganache, offers a heavenly indulgence. The Cherry Cheesecake, with its succulent cherry topping complementing the creamy cheesecake, is a refreshing and fruity option.

Not to be missed is the Hot Fudge Cream Puff, a unique dessert that perfectly combines the crisp texture of a cream puff with the indulgent sweetness of hot fudge and vanilla ice cream. This dessert is a testament to the creativity and innovation that brings this place to its culinary creations.

Not to be overshadowed by the tantalizing food menu, the drink selection at Ram's Horn Restaurant completes the dining experience perfectly. The menu serves a variety of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages to cater to every palate. For those looking for a refreshing non-alcoholic option, the homestyle lemonade, iced teas, and a selection of soft drinks offer a cool respite. Coffee lovers can rejoice with freshly brewed coffee, available in both regular and decaffeinated variants. Accentuating the spirits selection are a range of domestic and imported beers, and a choice selection of wines. There's also a delightful assortment of cocktails for those seeking a more adventurous choice. Any of these options serve as a perfect companion to the dishes and can elevate any meal to a complete gastronomical journey.

At Ram's Horn Restaurant, it's understood that the heart of a restaurant resides not just in its food but in its people. It boasts a team that is as diverse as the community it serves. Each member, from the front-of-house staff who ensure that every guest feels welcome, to the skilled chefs in the kitchen who bring the menu to life, contributes to the overall experience. The team's dedication to creating a warm, welcoming environment where guests can enjoy exceptional food is palpable. Their passion and commitment are evident in the attention to detail, the friendly service, and the consistency of the food. The staff not only work together, but they also learn and grow together, building a strong sense of camaraderie. This harmony among the team members translates directly to the high-quality service provided, making each visit at this place it’s a delightful experience. Ultimately, it's the people who make it more than just a restaurant – they make it a home away from home.

The culinary journey at this restaurant is as vibrant as the ambiance. The menu, deeply rooted in classic American cuisine, also boasts a creative twist that keeps patrons intrigued. Each dish, meticulously crafted by the skilled kitchen staff using fresh, locally sourced ingredients, is a celebration of flavors. The sizzling steaks, perfectly seared, hearty soups simmered to perfection, and delectable desserts all bear testament to the restaurant's unwavering commitment to quality. As the franchise continues to grow and evolve, it remains firmly anchored to its roots. It cherishes its rich history while confidently embracing the future. With Drouillard at the helm, Ram's Horn Restaurant hasn't merely survived but thrived, proving that with the right ingredients, a restaurant can truly become an irreplaceable part of the community's fabric.

[thxnews]

Bar Harbor: Your Gateway to Adventure and Delicious Delights!

  Welcome, fellow adventurers! If you're looking for an incredible destination to explore, Bar Harbor in Maine is the place to be. It's a charming coastal town tucked away in the heart of Maine, known as the gateway to Acadia National Park. Trust us, you won't be disappointed!  

Acadia National Park is stunning crystal clear lake water. Photo by Benjamin Rascoe. Unsplash.  

Outdoor Excitement Galore!

Let's start with the outdoor recreational opportunities that Bar Harbor has to offer. Are you a hiking enthusiast? Well, Acadia National Park is just a stone's throw away from Bar Harbor, offering 120 miles of hiking trails for adventurers of all levels. The views are absolutely breathtaking, with mountains, lakes, and forests painting the perfect backdrop. Don't miss popular trails like Jordan Pond Path, Precipice Trail, and Cadillac Mountain South Ridge Trail. For those who love the water, kayaking in Bar Harbor is a dream come true. Imagine paddling through picturesque spots like Frenchman Bay, Somes Sound, and Jordan Pond. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced kayaker, local outfitters can hook you up with the right gear and even guided tours to explore the stunning coastline. If biking is more your speed, you're in luck! Bar Harbor's 45-mile carriage road system is a cyclist's paradise. Pedal through the park's lush forests and scenic lakes while taking in the majestic mountain views. Bring your own bike or rent one locally. Oh, and did we mention that these carriage roads are open for hiking too? Double the adventure! Calling all whale enthusiasts! Bar Harbor's coastal waters are home to magnificent creatures like humpback, finback, and minke whales. Take a whale-watching tour and get up close and personal with these gentle giants. Keep an eye out for playful harbor seals and dolphins too! For the thrill-seekers among us, Bar Harbor offers some incredible rock climbing spots. Challenge yourself on routes like Otter Cliffs and South Bubble in Acadia National Park. And if you're an experienced climber, explore the park's remote crags and cliffs for an unforgettable experience.  

Tea and popovers at Jordan Pond House. Photo by shovelbum5. Flickr.  

Picture-Perfect Picnics at Jordan Pond House

Imagine stepping into a storybook and finding yourself at Jordan Pond House in Acadia National Park. This magical location offers delicious popovers and tea with an unforgettable view. Grab a seat on the porch, savoring the warm and freshly baked popovers while gazing at the serene pond and majestic mountains. It's pure bliss! Once you've indulged in the scrumptious popovers, take a leisurely walk around Jordan Pond or find a cozy bench to soak in the breathtaking scenery. Don't forget to pack a picnic to enjoy by the pond. You can bring your own goodies or grab some delectable treats from the restaurant. And if you're up for more adventure, nearby hiking trails like Jordan Pond Path, Penobscot Mountain Trail, and The Bubbles Trail offer jaw-dropping views.  

Lobster Roll at the Lobster Claw, Bar Harbor. Photo by Lee Edwin Coursey. Flickr.  

Taste the Fresh Flavors of the Sea

Prepare your taste buds for an extraordinary seafood experience in Bar Harbor. Maine is famous for its mouthwatering lobster rolls, and Galyn's and the Finback Alehouse serve up the best in town. Succulent lobster meat tossed lightly in mayo with a sprinkle of chives, served in a toasted bun or soft bread roll. It's a taste of pure seafood heaven! But wait, there's more! Dive into a rich and hearty seafood chowder that's sure to delight your senses. Seared scallops, shrimp, haddock, and clams come together in a creamy broth with tender potatoes and fresh herbs. A sprinkle of freshly ground pepper adds the perfect touch of flavor. If you're craving something unique, clam cakes are a must-try. These small, scrumptious balls of cornmeal batter mixed with fresh clam meat will satisfy your mini-shrimp craving. Dip them in ketchup, tartar sauce, or honey mustard—take your pick and enjoy! And of course, you can't forget about the iconic fried clams that Bar Harbor is famous for. These crispy, golden morsels are made from fresh clams raised in Boston and Maine waters. Served with tartar sauce or cocktail sauce and lemon wedges, they're a true delicacy you won't want to miss. Calling all seafood lovers! McLoon's Lobster Shack is the place to be for grilled oysters. Freshly shucked oysters from the midcoast region of Maine are grilled with garlic butter, crispy breadcrumbs, and herbs. The explosion of flavors will leave your taste buds dancing with delight!  

Bar Harbor, Main Street. Photo by kmf164. Flickr.  

Exploring the Town and Unleashing Your Inner Shopaholic

As you stroll down Bar Harbor's Main Street, get ready to unleash your inner shopaholic! There are unique boutiques, souvenir shops, and much more. One store you won't want to miss is The Acadia Country Store, where you'll find all sorts of Maine-made goodies. Art lovers, rejoice! Bar Harbor is brimming with art galleries showcasing beautiful works by local artists. Houses on Main, Art in the Heart, and Island Artisans are just a few places to explore and appreciate the artistic talent of the region. Don't forget to visit some of Bar Harbor's beloved landmarks! St. Savior's Episcopal Church is a stunning architectural gem that dates back to the late 1800s. And for a dose of history and culture, the Abbe Museum is a fascinating destination. Dive into the heritage of Maine's Native American people through artifacts and engaging workshops. But Main Street isn't just about shopping and landmarks. It's also a place to relax and indulge in some delicious food. Side Street Cafe is a must-visit spot for mouthwatering seafood dishes, including lobster rolls and crab cakes. And when your sweet tooth calls, The Independent Ice Company is the place to be, offering handcrafted ice cream flavors that will leave you craving more.  

Fall Colors in Bar Harbor. Photo by Lee Edwin Coursey. Flickr.  

Fall into the Beauty of Bar Harbor

If you're a fan of the breathtaking colors of autumn, Bar Harbor in the fall is an absolute dream. Acadia National Park offers some of the most dramatic foliage displays in the world. Take a drive through the park on a clear day, and prepare to be in awe of the vibrant colors surrounding you. The fall weather in Bar Harbor is perfect for outdoor activities. Say goodbye to sweaty and humid summers and hello to crisp, refreshing breezes. Temperatures in the 50s and 60s make hiking, biking, and whale watching even more enjoyable. Fall in Bar Harbor is also the season of festivals and activities. The Acadia Night Sky Festival in September offers night sky viewing events and workshops, allowing you to explore the wonders of the cosmos. Oktoberfest is another exciting event where you can indulge in local beers and enjoy live music. And the Harvest Fest promises pie-eating contests, craft-making events, and even a live animal petting zoo! Another perk of visiting Bar Harbor in the fall is the reduced crowds. It's an off-peak season, so you'll have more freedom to explore the park without queues and enjoy the peaceful ambiance of the town.  

View of Sherman's in Bar Harbor. Photo by Boris Kasimov. Flickr.  

Bar Harbor: A Treasure You Won't Forget!

To wrap it all up, Bar Harbor, Maine, is a gem that offers adventure, breathtaking beauty, and mouthwatering seafood delights. Whether you're exploring the wonders of Acadia National Park or indulging in the local cuisine, this charming town has something for everyone. So, adventurers and foodies alike, don't forget to add Bar Harbor to your travel bucket list. It's a destination that will leave you with unforgettable memories and a deep appreciation for the wonders of Maine.   Sources: THX News & Visit Bay Harbor. Read the full article

[anna-albold]

HAUBE

© Anna Albold | 2018

[erikamariapell]

Her skin is porcelain ice, he imagines it being cool to the touch underneath his fingertips. Just a sliver of creamy skin exposed by the way her arms lift up to pull Rue off the dining room table, her pretty blouse raising just enough to spare him a glance.

She has on that frustrated, eye brows furrowed, look she only ever seems to get around Rue and her sister Cassie. When she whips towards him, her arms dropping to her sides and a not so subtle nod at their crazy friend, doped up and dancing dangerously close to the edge of someone’s mother’s antique dining set, he likes the way she calls to him with no words.

When he pulls Rue off the table and over his shoulder he knows he should be focused on her screams of protest but all he can feel is Lexis hand on the small of his back, guiding him through the overcrowded house party. Her fingers flex and fold into the cotton of his shirt and he can hear her whispering to Rue. He’s never had a mom or a dad but he can’t help but paint the picture of Lexi and himself married with their rowdy child misbehaving.

He dumps the curly haired mess into his backseat of his Cadillac and stays close while she fights Lexi for the seatbelt. By the time the door is pulled shut and child locked her auburn ponytail is askew and her cheeks are flushed rose petal pink, he brushes his fingers over her warm skin and when her eyes look up at him they’re tired but just as bright as he knows them to be. Vaguely he can hear Rue screaming from the confined space but when Lexi drops her head to his chest, fully exhausted with her arms limp at her sides, he can’t hear anything but her soft sigh against his heart.

He tangles his fingers at the back of her scalp and presses her closer, boldly dropping his lips to the crown of her head and selfishly inhaling her peach shampoo. They stay like that for a minute more than necessary and when she pulls away he feels cold and his head hurts.

Rue passes out in his backseat no more than five minutes after they start to drive. The silence that follows is peaceful and when Lexi grabs his hand on the gear shift he imagines a car seat in the back and a diaper bag at her feet.

[thinlinez]

Josie, my darling! I'm here to ask about that porn magazine fic of yours in the WIP title Game. Can you tell me something about it? Maybe share a small snippet? 😏🥰

My love T, I have actually written A LOT of this fic back back way back in time, it is so old and dusty. I had always wanted to post it but I couldn't come up with a good ending for it... It is basically about Lou being a porn magazine star and H discovering this secret! I can give you the snip ;) I hope it is interesting... I dont think I will ever post it, since it is omega Lou... Here goes: It is LONG and EXPLICIT hahahaha (It isn't a small snippet since I think this will be the only snippet I will ever share of this work)

“What’s this?” His moment of confusion cleared as soon as he saw the magazine name and the close-up cover of an omega who had smeared mascara and glitter around her eyes. Her head was tilted ridiculously to the side to showcase the purpling bite mark adorning her porcelain skin. Her eyes were hazy and clouded over like she was under a spell. Harry wrinkled his nose at the magazine as Gemma rolled her eyes.

“It’ll help you through your rut.” She said exasperatedly. Harry’s face colored at the comment.

“I’m not some thirsty fourty year old man who jacks off to naked omegas.” He hissed, pushing away the atrocious reading material.

He hated degrading magazines like these. The ones that portrayed omegas in a sexual light. It’s already the twenty first century, people need to wake the fuck up...

“Reading this magazine doesn’t imply that you’re a degrading arsehole, H. It just helps you. Being an alpha isn’t a chore, it’s what you are. So just accept it and if this helps then better use it wisely.” Gemma shrugged, flicking him on the forehead as Harry hissed at the sudden pain. He pouted a little at his alpha sister.

“Whatever you say, I’m not gonna read it. Ever.”

“Sure, H. Sure.” Gemma laughed as she ruffled his hair and helped him lug his heavy duffel bag into the back of his beat up secondhand car.

Now, as he looked down at the magazine, at the shiny cover that announced its name, My Omega, in cursive, the pent up frustration inside of him started to bubble to the surface. He nearly tore the cover off as he grabbed it and began to flip through it. Maybe jacking off right now would soothe him. Thank god he hadn’t hit the freeway yet.

His eyes scanned through the pages. Omegas clad in an assortment of tight clothes and mostly, nothing at all, peered seductively up at him through their eyelashes. There were hardly any words in the magazine. He rolled his eyes at a picture of an omega boy sitting cross legged on a toilet seat of what looked like a dirty pub loo. His clothes were torn and he was holding his finger up to his glossy lips, grinning devilishly at the camera with bite marks littering his chest. Harry has got to admit, most of the setting were too cliche even though the lighting, camera angles and models in the photo were well positioned. There was some aesthetics to these erotic photos, Harry had to begrudgingly admit.

He was half in mind to toss the magazine away and was already thinking about texting Niall to hook him up with an omega friend for next week when the next photo made his hand come to a complete standstill.

The double spread photo was taken in the backseat of a car, a vintage one by the looks of it. Most likely a Cadillac with its easily recognizable white creamy leather seat.

A naked omega was lounging on the seat with his head resting against the window and his body draped on the entire back seat. There were what looked like sunflower and daisy petals strewn on the seat and spread all over the floor. A few petals were tucked into the omega’s caramel brown hair.

The omega had his head tipped back so that the fine line of his throat was exposed, vein standing out and bondmark spot out for the world to ravish. His stretch of golden skin made Harry’s mouth go oddly dry. The boy’s eyes were closed, long lashes brushing the pads of his cheeks and his mouth was slightly ajar, thin pink lips curled up into a small faint smile that seemed to hold the world’s secrets on the slope of its cupid bow. The smile ignited the corners of the omega’s eyes and Harry could see the tiniest traces of crinkles around them. One of the omega’s arms was trailing onto the floor, fingertips brushing the carpeted floor while the other was gripping the headrest of the seat above so that his veins stood out, a sharp contrast to his other limp arm. One knee was bent while the other was relaxed so that the small pink cock with its tip smeared with precome could be visible between his strong thighs.

Harry swallowed as his eyes followed the muscles of the omega’s thighs and saw the glinting line of slick running down them. The leather beneath the omega’s arse was coated with slick, some dripping onto the floor of the car. Like a small cascading waterfall.

The omega’s pose hid his oozing hole from sight and Harry almost whined from how badly he wanted to see it. He could almost imagine the fluttering pink rim as it clenched desperately on thin air.

He nearly ripped a hole through the page with how fast he turned it. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the same omega appeared, on the next page, in the exact same pose except he was staring directly at the camera and his piercing gaze seemed to penetrate Harry’s soul. It sent a shiver through him. The color of his eyes matched that of a stormy ocean, with waves of emotions flickering in those two blue gems. His mouth was pulled down into a frown, a slightly crease sinking in between his eyebrows like he was aiming an accusing look at the audience for disturbing his nap, or maybe his self-pleasuring.

His fringe was swept to the side and some of it hung into his eyes. His toes were curled and his skin shining with slick and sweat. Harry could only stare at the ruined leather seat as he felt himself growing harder in his jeans.

A feeling tugged at his gut. There was something familiar about this beautiful omega. But he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what it was that he was feeling. All he knew was that he wished he could push the omega hard into the leather seat, get his hands all over the sun kissed skin and fuck the omega until the boy cries his name.

“What the fuck...” He groaned, hand flying up to palm over his hard length. He wasn’t one to do this. No, what the fuck was he doing? He thought wildly to himself as he unbuttoned his jeans with a snap. He hissed as he closed his palm around his hard cock, feeling the undeniable swelling of his knot as he jerked himself off a few times.

“No...” He grunted, as if he was lecturing himself, but he continued to stroke and stare into the omega’s baby blues. He gritted his teeth as he palmed at his slit, pinching the tip of his cock teasingly and banged his head painfully on the car seat behind him. He came, letting out a reluctant groan of pleasure into his fist and doubled over, panting from the shock of his sudden orgasm. He was careful to push the magazine off his lap so that his come wouldn’t stain it.

“Shit...” There was no afterglow to his orgasm, hell no. What hit him was the fact that he had just done it. Just jacked off to a porn magazine. His face burned with shame as he quickly straightened up and buckled his seat belt. He took a deep breath before pulling the car back into gear, trying and failing to ignore the stickiness in his jeans and the magazine staring innocently up at him on the car floor.

[baeklination]

구름 도시  (Cloud City)  pt.1

Warnings/Contains: None really. Some light cursing. General talk about the case, but nothing explicit.

au: members of the justice system

Characters: Baekhyun, Kai, Suho, Sehun

WC:3400

Date:200523

Masterpost      Part 2

                                           ¤¤¤

APRIL 17th

  Jun-myeon poked his head out of his office.

“Byun, we’ve got a girl reported missing, go talk to her parents will you?”

Baek-hyun grabbed the holster from his chair, out of habit more than anything

“How old?”

“She’s twenty-six, Cho Min-young, lives in Hammer Hill. Her parents are waiting”

Baek-hyun slowed down and raised an eyebrow at his boss.

“Jun, you know I’m not a star case- guy, but a missing twenty-six year-old..? I thought you meant a kid. She’s probably at a boyfriend's house-”

“Nope”

“Girlfriend then-”

“They’ve called everyone they can think of, and she didn’t show up for work this morning. Come on, Byun, as a favour; it’ll be in and out. Take the new guy with you, show him how the pro’s do it”. Jun-myeon shot a wide smile at him, knowing he’d won Baek-hyun over.

  In the middle of the stations commotion sat a young detective, trying his best to look as if he hadn’t overheard the conversation between Baek-hyun and the lieutenant, but he felt like a kid waiting for his fun uncle to collect him.

“Come on, Jong-in, you heard the boss”, Baek-hyun said, approaching him. “Is it alright if we drop the honorifics, can I speak informally to you?”

“Yes, it’s okay, Mr.Byun, you can speak informally.” Jong-in nodded with a slightly nervous smile.

“We, Jong-in. We speak informally. No mr, hyung, or nim, please.”

 Having reached the car, Baek-hyun waited for Jong-in’s reaction( although if anyone asked, he’d never admit to such vanity).

“Shit, this is your car? It’s a beauty!”, Jong-in exclaimed when he realized what ride was theirs. “You’re in to the classics?”

Baek-hyun chuckled and feigned embarrassment.

 “Yeah, this is my Old Betty”, but the charade only lasted a moment. “70’s Coupe Deville - Cadillac, obviously. My father brought it back from the States in the 80’s”. Seeing the question on Jong-in’s face Baek-hyun continued “He went to college over there, and saw this darling; dirt cheap if you ask him - a prettier penny than that if you ask my mother. He retired it a while back, and let me buy it. Actually, he would never let me buy it - I’ve been paying for their weekly grocery shopping without him knowing for the past two years now” he laughed, and Jong-in, now more relaxed, rolled his eyes in a I-know-the-type-way. Reaching in and popping the hood he gestured for Jong-in to follow him.

 “See” he pointed to the machinery “the engine was alright, but I know a mechanic, so I had it fitted with a V8, and the normal updates; better versions of things they had in the original. I know, I know, the original is the soul and all that - but I don’t want my girl going bust when I’m doing 110 on the highway chasing bad guys, you know”. Jong-in nodded, but this part was beyond him. “Now she’s got 600 HP and manages 130 km and hour, easy”, Baek-hyun shamelessly bragged as they got in the car. It wasn’t any wonder really, the car was in top condition; the body a dark, almost black, brown, grill and hubcaps gleaming like they were newly polished, and the inside a creamy dream of tan leather and red details. 

“So, do you also have a classic?”, Baek-hyun’s eyes were shining with anticipation. Jong-in might’ve opened a Pandora’s box here, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression on their first day together, but decided that honesty was always the best route.

“No, I wish..! If I knew anything about cars then maybe I could buy an oldie, fix it up myself, you know, but I’ve never been good at cars. And buying one in good condition…”, he sighed.

Baek-hyun whistled “Hell, I couldn’t afford that, and I’m a couple of pay grades above you..!”.

“Yeah, and with my kid, I think it’s better to save than splurge. Our Honda runs good enough.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you  have a kid. Boy or girl? Give me the deets.”

“Girl, Yong-sun. She’s eight months old, home with mommy - my girlfriend. We’ve been together seven years”, Jong-in said, almost stumbling over the last part, in case Baek-hyun would find it improper that he had a child before getting married.

“That long..! Congrats man, then you know it’s tried, tested and true”, Baek-hyun said, calming Jong-in’s nerves. Driving out of the garage he changed tone to a serious, albeit still relaxed, one “So, what d’you think; girl really missing or just out of reach? Pitch me some scenarios, rookie.”

                                                   ¤¤¤

  Having parked on the side of the street, Baek-hyun stepped out and surveyed the area for a while. Hammer Hill was a nice neighbourhood; not the highest echelons of society, but definitely upper middle-class. 

“Pretty nice place for a single twenty-something to live in, no?”

“Pretty nice for anyone”, Jong-in replied. “But those online stars make a lot of money, you know”.

“This much?” Baek-hyun frowned in disbelief. “You think she’s doing something on the side? Catering to a different audience, so to speak? Wouldn’t be the first time”, Baek-hyun sighed, while he started up the stairs. Jong-in, not wanting to offend anyone, erred on the side of caution 

“I don’t know, anything is possible. But making this much money in a…” he hesitated “...pure way is also possible”.

“First lesson passed, rookie: avoid jumping to stereotypical conclusions”, Baek-hyun said with a dunk on Jong-in’s back, as they walked up to the door. After ringing the doorbell Baek-hyun turned to Jong-in and hurriedly said:

“But don’t mention prostitution to her parents, okay? Don’t say anything to alarm them further. We want them to remain calm, so they don’t forget to mention anything. Besides, she’ll probably pop up in the next day or so. Just try to...get a feel for the situation. You’ll be doing a lot of these house calls, trust me”.

The door was opened by Min-young’s mother, a woman in her fifties, without any especially distinguishing features, except for the worry in her eyes. 

“Mrs. Cho, I’m detective Byu-”

“Oh, finally, thank god, come in”, Mrs. Cho exclaimed with relief, and moved so they could go in. “I apologize, it’s a mess, but I didn’t want to touch anything in case…” her voice faded. She ushered Baek-hyun and Jong-in to the living-room, where an older man - presumably Mr.Cho - and a younger man stood up to great the detectives. Baek-hyun gave it another try.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’m detective Byun, this is my colleague detective Kim”, he said and took the man’s hand with a warm smile “you must be Mr. Cho”.

“Detective Byun, Kim”, Mr. Cho said with a short nod to them “Thank you for coming.” Gesturing to the young man he continued “this is Oh Sehun, Min-young’s friend”. They exchanged remaining pleasantries and sat down. 

“So, tell us, what’s going on; the lieutenant said you haven’t heard from Min-young - is it okay if I call her Min-young?” he interjected, remembering his manners. After getting the okay from Mr. and Mrs. Cho he continued “So, still nothing new from Min-young since...yesterday evening, was it? Tell us what happened”. Mrs. Cho, with a slight tremble in her voice started 

“Well, it wasn’t anything special yesterday, really. It’s not that we had plans and she didn’t show up. But I tried calling her in the evening, but she didn’t pick up the phone. We tried calling a couple of times, but when it got late we figured maybe she was just really busy, and decided to wait until the morning.” 

“But she hasn’t picked up today either”, Mr. Cho chimed in. “I tried calling at eight thirty, right before she goes to work, but she didn’t answer, so I tried her office...nothing. They still haven’t heard from her” he said, holding his palms up. Baek-hyun sensed Mr. Cho was more perplexed than scared, which would be helpful in locating her, as opposed to Mrs. Cho, who might overlook something because of the stress she clearly was under.

“Excuse me”, Jong-in said in a low voice, and the whole company looked at him with surprise, almost having forgotten about his presence. “You said she went to her office; wasn’t she a social media personality? She didn’t work from home?”

Good catch, Baek-hyun thought.

“Oh, no. She used to, but she felt a bit cooped up working from home, so she moved to a small office space in Rolling Hills; in the Gigamex complex.” 

  Baek-hyun let Jong-in take the lead, try his wings, so to speak, and focused more on scribbling down names and dates in his police issued notepad (he found that it made people feel as if he really listened if he used pen and paper instead of some smart device). This also gave him the opportunity to gauge their reactions to any questions, to make sure they were on the up-and-up. And what of this Sehun character? Up until now he’d been quiet, only a few nods and nervous hands clasped together. Interrupting his train of thought, Jong-in continued

“And who was it you talked to at the office?”

“Michelle. We don’t know her last name, but she’s Min-young’s assistant, she helps her with editing and her calendar, I think”. One could tell that world wasn’t Mr. Cho’s arena, but he was close enough with his daughter to have heard a bit about it. Mrs. Cho picked up her mobile, and after a few scrolls held it out for Baek-hyun to copy

“Here. This is her number. She couldn’t say much, but if you want to talk to her...” Baek-hyun received it with a barely distinguishable bow and took her number down.

“Do you know if anyone was...less than nice to her online? Did she ever mention anything specific?” Jong-in knew the price of putting yourself out there often was people being rude, nasty, or worse, so he wanted to make sure he covered at least some of the bases. And to be honest, as distasteful as it may sound it was exhilarating; his first interview in the field. And he seemed to know a thing or two more than Baek-hyun about this topic, so he got to shine a little. But her parents were adamant about her job not being an issue here. 

“Her channel is about arts and crafts, making things from scratch, baking and those kinds of things. The people who write her are kind. Sure, there are a some rude people, but most of them are so sweet”, Mrs. Cho said.

“What about a boyfriend, was she seeing anybody?”, Baek-hyun asked and looked at Sehun, as did her parents “Are you..?”

For the first time Sehun let go of his hands, and waved no. 

“No, no. We’ve been friends since middle school, she’s like my sister. And jogging buddy. We go running a couple days a week, have dinner or coffee after. We were supposed to go yesterday evening, but she cancelled”, Sehun explained.

“When was that?” Baek-hyun recognized the sign of voluntary M.I.A. Sehun unlocked his phone and showed the caller log to Baek-hyun “17.12. We usually meet up around five thirty, so it’s odd that she cancelled with such little notice”.

“Did she say why, or sound different in any way?”

“No. She said it wasn’t anything special, she just had something to do. But when I asked her again she wouldn’t say. I was kinda annoyed, but now...” Sehun shrugged his shoulders and looked so hopeless he almost made Baek-hyun think something had happened to Min-young. But being the veteran he was he knew the majority of these cases ended happily - a lost phone, a drunken night, or a secret boyfriend - so he composed himself and gave them a smile.

“I know you’re all very worried right now, but trust me when I say we get a lot of calls like these, and it almost always ends up being some kind of misunderstanding. But we’ll follow up on these tips you’ve given us when we get back to the station, of course. Could we just have a quick look around the apartment, to see if anything seems amiss?”

                                           ¤¤¤

  Having seen nothing suspicious in Min-young’s apartment they assured the Cho’s that they would call them the next day, and said their goodbyes. 

“You did good up there, Jong-in”, Baek-hyun complimented his partner for the day. “What are your thoughts?”

“Thank you, Byu-Baek-hyun” Jong-in stuttered, making Bae-hyun laugh.”I feel bad for them. But like you said, they almost always come back. So...do we talk to her assistant, get phone records from Min-young’s cell provider?”

“Phone records takes more than...” Baek-hyun looked at his watch “than the two hours we have left. Let’s call the assistant, and you can run down locations of CCTV in the area”.

“To see when she left the apartment and which way she went…”

“We’ll take a closer look tomorrow morning if she’s still not back. So her friend, Oh Sehun…” Baek-hyun let the question hang in the air.

“Yeah. Do you usually see friends joining this early? He’s probably telling the truth, but…” 

“But..?” Baek-hyun echoed for Jong-in to continue.

“Well, he was the last one to talk to her. And did she really not say anything to him?”

“Exactly. I don’t think he’s hurt her, but it’s possible - likely even - that he might know more than he’s telling. Remember what I said about catering to a different audience? Let’s do a quick background check and talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be more open when the girl’s parents aren’t around.”

  Back at the station Jong-in started working on the CCTV footage while Baek-hyun went to update Jun-myeon.

“Hey, boss...”, he knocked on the frosted glass window, but didn’t wait for a reply before he opened the door. Jun-myeon was on the phone, but gestured for Baek-hyun to come in.

“...twisted baguettes, not ordinary ones, got it. Bye, love” he said, hung up and shared one of his life lessons with Baek-hyun “happy wife, happy life. Now, how’d it go?” Baek-hyun ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

 “As expected, I’d say. They were worried, but it hasn’t been that long. We’re gonna run down some leads they gave us before calling it a day”.

“Okay, sounds good. And Jong-in?”

“Yeah, he did good, boss. And he likes my girl”, Baek-hyun smiled.

“Ah, Byun-ah..!”, Jun-myeon exclaimed “That’s why you like him, ‘cus he likes your car..!”

Baek-hyun choked a smile “No, he’s good, honestly. But why does he get to be “Jong-in” while I’m still my surname?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jun-myeon countered by raising both brows.

“Because I don’t want nine guys in my office every time I ask for Kim, is why he’s “Jong-in”...”. Baek-hyun clicked his tongue and pointed at Jun-myeon.

“Got it. Well, I’m gonna do some digging with the time I’ve got left”, he said and stood up.

“You’re a star player, Byun. Fighting!”, Jun-myeon said jokingly as Baek-hyun closed the door.

                                           ¤¤¤

  Baek-hyun and Jong-in had punched out after checking off their list. There wasn’t much to see, really; the assistant, Michelle, hadn’t seen Min-young so she couldn’t offer much assistance, ironically enough. And as far as Sehun goes, he seemed to be harmless; no citations, no odd-ball photos or rants on the internet...just a guy. Nonetheless, Baek-hyun had begun to feel a touch uneasy about the whole thing, so after shutting the engine off in the driveway he called the precinct and asked the officer on the night shift to send a request for Min-young’s  phone records. 

Better safe than sorry, he said to himself. Locking the car door was his queue to give his work mind a rest, and it wasn’t hard to do when he saw the note on his front door: 17.25 You have a houseguest, B!(Cover shift) It was signed with a winking smiley inside the O of the name “Veró”. Baek-hyun chuckled, spirits lifted. He had barely opened the door before a little corgi was upon him, tap-dancing around his feet with bright eyes. Baek-hyun put his blazer on a valet stand and bent down to greet his guest.

“Well, hi there, Mongi..! What are you doing here?” he said while playfully wrestling with the dog “Did you tell mommy to drop you of at the fun house?” He looked at his watch; an hour ago. “We might as well go out now, nugget. And then it’s dinner for the both of us - I’m famished!”. 

  With his parents living a couple of hours away, having Veró and Mongi was a real blessing to him. It’s not every day you meet someone you’re almost a hundred percent comfortable with; may it be in silence, changing clothes, physical interaction, crying or ugly laughing. Veró (short for Verónica) had moved in next door almost three years ago, and they instantly hit it off. Well, it wasn’t the right hit at first. They had dated for about four months when they both realized that they weren’t lovers’ material. The reason they felt exceedingly comfortable with each other was because they were best friends. They called it quits on the romantic part and now hung out as just friends; dinners, talks through the night, even sleepovers - and of course the semi-shared custody of Veró’s dog Mongi. Baek-hyun had fallen in love with him the first time he saw him, and insisted she name him Mongryong, but Veró was dead set on “Miguel”, a latin singer, or “the sun of Mexico” as she called him. They ended up having a marathon of games and soju to decide who would get the honours, and to Veró’s dismay Baek-hyun won, and the rest is history. 

  Since Veró left so late he knew she was covering for someone from the night shift and therefore didn’t expect her to be back until early morning at best, so after dinner they both curled up in bed: Mongi with a bone and Baek-hyun with the latest issue of Journal of Forensic Sciences.

“The things they can find out with forensics these days, Mongi, I tell ya...” Baek-hyun sighed, and Mongi looked at him, breathing heavily from his ferocious battle with the bone. “That’s right, pay attention, so you don’t go out in the streets acting like a fool.” He put the magazine on the nightstand as well as taking off his t-shirt before turning off the light - the queue for Mongi to curl up in the crook of Baek-hyun’s knees. 

“Good night, nugget.”  

APRIL 18th

  Baek-hyun was the quintessential morning person, so when the alarm went off at 06.00 he immediately got up. The same could not be said about Mongi.

“Rise and shine, Mongi. Time to do some laps”, Baek-hyun cooed while putting on his sweats. But it would take the sound of food being prepared for Mongi to bounce out in to the kitchen. 

“You try it every time, and I tell you every time: walk, then food.” 

  The air was chilly, a typical late spring morning, and there was an overcast hinting rain would come before long. He may not look it, but the dog was a top runner, so Baek-hyun could jog at a pace that made his heart rate go up a few notches, all the way down to the river, about twenty minutes away. He stopped by a drinking fountain, giving Mongi a few palms of water and splashed his face and water-combed his hair back. The clouds had lifted by the horizon, and the sunrise stained the clouds a yellowy apricot and Baek-hyun took it all in; these precious still and silent mornings were the favourite part of his day. He felt a tug on the leash, so he snapped out of it and they started back home for breakfast and a shower.

  He wrapped a towel around his waist, draped a second one over his shoulders and made his way to the kitchen. A lot of Baek-hyun’s colleagues ate at work, but he preferred to have a quiet breakfast at home before all the hustle and bustle, so he sat down with his cup of black coffee and rye porridge. He was halfway through his meal when his phone rang, so his slippered feet shuffled to the bedroom:

“A call this early is never good, boss.” He sat down on the bed with a sinking feeling.

“Sorry, Byun. We’ve got a body, female. Under Pioneer’s Bridge. She hasn’t been identified, but…” Jun-myeon paused.

“You think it might be her.”

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Macaroons

Finally got over myself and got a little bit written 4175 words in an evening is okayish. So here you get the snippet. SPOILERS (but no major ones).

Lady Argent and undecided mc, post villain reveal but nothing else. Post the post auction meeting. Coffee vice, argent flirting, no killing. 

Will eventually be filled out to a proper chapter like the other snippets I did, but enjoy!

------

Argent shoots you a smirk under the brim of her hat, wide enough to shadow her face, which together with her huge glasses and soft, pink scarf make her look part rich heiress, part sixties Barbie dreamhhouse Cadillac. She looks like she's having fun, the thin coat moving to the sway of her hips, not exactly a disguise, more plausible deniability. You're having a hard time not smiling back, but your lip still stings when you do, so you lick it instead and get a laugh in return.

"Don't think you've made things up to me yet."

"I didn't." You trail half a step behind her, using her as an icebreaker, she commands attention even when she tries to avoid it which suits you just fine.

"And we are not going to do this in some sordid coffee bar." She adjusts her glasses, then picks a new direction. "Or Hoots."

"Fine by me," you agree, wondering how upscale she's planning to go. Not that you need to pay for anything, but she's still a Ranger and might have opinions about your methods to go about that. "Where are we going?"

"There," she points to an elaborately cursive sign, in French to add to the illegibility.

"A bakery?" The smell reveals it even if the sign doesn't.

"You're paying." A brief pause as she turns to you, lowering her sunglasses so you can see the reflections of her eyes. "You do have money to pay for things, right?"

"Of course I do," you say, a little insulted. You know you're not giving the most affluent impression, but you're not about to go broke from some baked goods.

"Don't make that face," she flips your nose with her fingernail, lightning quick, but not sharp enough to hurt. "I don't know how much of a villain you are."

"Not enough to abuse a neighborhood store," you rub your nose. Damn she's fast. "I do have my sights set a little bit higher."

"Good." She pauses outside the shop, giving you an expectant look. "I want a dozen mixed cupcakes, two dozen macaroons and a couple of chocolate éclairs." A short pause as she rubs her chin. "And of course whatever you're having."

"That's a tall order," you say with a straight face. "Anything else?"

"Surprise me." You get a wink and a smirk. "Maybe you'll succeed this time."

---

Once you've finished your shopping, you return to the street, bags in hand. It's a fairly sizable load, but she doesn't offer to help you carry. Not that you mind, if ordering you around for a little makes her feel better, you can take it. It's not that you feel bad for what you did, not exactly, or, well, even if you did, it wouldn't matter because you already done the deed, and it was for a good cause and water under the bridge and all that.

It's around that time during your internal monologue that you realize you are recognizing this neighborhood. You spent some time here almost a year ago, scoping out Argent's apartment, trying to learn her habits so you knew when to strike at her. You're not heading to a park or some public setting, you're heading home. To her home.

Damn. That wasn't something you had counted on, but then again Argent tends to surprise you.

"You probably already know where I live," she says, as if she was the mind reader here.

"I do," you admit. "Just not that's where you were taking me."

"It's been a long day, I am not going to sit around being gawked at. We're in this together, might as well let my hair down a little."

"Just don't expect me to return the favor anytime soon."

"Hah," she laughs, pushing the door open without using neither code nor key. Interesting. "You probably have some stinky lair in the sewer anyway."

"Hey," you protest, schooling your face into impassiveness. "That's just stereotyping."

"Really?" Another laugh." "Maybe an old factory then?"

"Is that really how you picture the other half living?" The elevator doors open once she approaches, but you can see no trace of a camera. How much surveillance is this place under? She's acting like it's safe, but can you trust that?

"Am I wrong though?"

"Not going to tell you." You step in after her, and watch the button for the top floor light up, without her pressing the button.

"I bet I'm right." You can see why Ortega likes her, they've got the same smug vibe going on.

"That's not going to work." She wants to find out where you live, that's an old tactic. Ortega used it back when you were Sidestep.

"Suit yourself." She steps out of the elevator, into what looks very much like a high security waiting room. It doesn't bother to hide it's unfriendliness, reinforced walls, no chairs, very obvious cameras and a single, blank metal door. It's such a departure from the rest of the building that you can't hide your surprise.

"Get many unfriendly visitors?"

"Some," she approaches the door, cocking her head, and it takes a moment before it slides open with a soft, metallic hiss. "It's a useful reminder."

"Reminder of what?" You look suspiciously around the room.

"Here be dragons." She gives you a wink and invites you in over the threshold.

---

You don't know what you expected Argent's apartment to look like, but it wasn't like this. It's huge, sure, high ceilings, spacious rooms, but there's a softness that takes the edge of the modernity. Nothing is white here, the coatroom a creamy yellow, with an absurdly out of place chandelier sending golden reflections playing over Argent's skin. You try not to look as you peel off your outer layer. You have more under there. She less so.

Shedding her coat, hat and shoes, she steps into the lounge, the summer dress making her skin look almost soft, or perhaps that's the reflected light from the powdery-pink walls. Is that the reason for the pastels? You can't help but wonder, but she really does give off a different impression once she's out of the hard lights of the Rangers HQ and the cold blues of her uniform.

"You're staring," she says, and you realize that you are, looking around helplessly for where to deposit your bags.

"Where's the kitchen?" you say, holding the bags up hoping she'll drop the subject.

"Over there," she says, smile turning sharp. "I guess we can be civilized and not eat right out of the bag if you want to."

"Hey, I probably live in a sewer, remember?" The kitchen is crisply turquoise and white, the fifties feel of the rounded appliances making Argent look absurdly like a housewife as she opens up the cupboard to get a tray out.

"Lucky you don't stink, or I would have tossed you in the pool."

"You have a pool?" You unpack your bounty under her watchful eyes, not sure if she's kidding or not.

"Where else would I keep my sharks?" That has to be a joke, but her smile is sharp enough to make you doubt.

"I really hope that's not true, we bought nothing for them." You keep your face straight, doing your best to read hers.

"Maybe I did." She steps closer, running a sharp finger over your breastbone, not sharp enough to cut, just enough to send shivers racing down your spine.

"I thought you already had extracted your pound of flesh." You'd like to imagine that your voice is steady.

"I told you, you still owe me." She tilts her head and licks her lips, the walls reflecting in her skin, turning her shades of sunlit water.

"There are nicer ways I can pay you back," you whisper, leaning in to kiss her, just a soft taste, still wary of teeth.

"Don't bite off more than you can chew." She kisses you back, equally softly, almost gentle in the way she nibbles your sore lip. Even when giving her the privacy of her mind, you can feel her testing her restraint.

"Are there really sharks?" you ask, running a hand up her bare arm. It's soft like sun-warm marble, not unyielding, but with less give than human skin. When you press your fingers against it you can feel the surface give a little, and she gasps into your mouth, holding still for a moment before pulling back.

"Only in my mind," she admits, looking at the arm you touched. No trace of your fingertips there, but she rubs it all the same. "I've got enough pets already."

"Really?" You look around, there's no trace of any food bowl in the kitchen, but it would feel like her to have an aquarium or something. It's a big place.

"Maybe you'll get to meet them eventually. If you behave." She shakes her head and changes the subject. "Coffee or something stronger?"

"Coffee is fine," you say, watching her as she prepares two cups. Capsule ones, high class, no fuss.

There's a quiet moment between you as the machine brews, and you keep looking around the room. Better than looking at her, and you get the feeling she feels the same. It's easier to know what to do in a fight, easier to exchange barbs and quips but the mood turned soft leaving you both unprepared.

"Get the tray," she finally says, grabbing both cups as she heads back towards the lounge. It's probably just a coincidence that her dress brushes gently against you on the way out.

Probably. There's just nothing sure about Argent, you're having a hard time reading her. Everything could have been cleared up with a brief scan, but you've promised to stay out of her head. She's projecting a quiet baseline nervousness that's at odds with her superficial confidence. Is she as bad as you are at this? How many guests have she had over? The flat is decorated to impress, but what if it's just to impress herself? It has the eclectic feel you recognize from your own first taste of freedom, but done on a Ranger budget instead of dumpster diving. Pink and gold, crystal and velvet, the marble of the coffee table, the massive television hung on one wall like a classical painting... you're not sure if you're supposed to read this as boudoir chic or romantic teen.

Unknown ground for both of you.

"So..." Argent speaks first, gesturing to the television. "You want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure," you agree, glad to have something else than conversation to focus on. "You have a bathroom around here?" It's not that you're sweaty from the walk, her place is just a little too warm. That's the only reason.

"Down the hall, first door on the left." She gestures back towards the way you came. "Don't wander, I'll know."

"Afraid I'll find your bedroom?"

"Afraid they're not gonna find your teeth once I kick your face in?"

You both share a companionable smile before you head over in that direction. That's better, more what you're used to.

As you walk, you make a mental map of what you can see of the place. Old habits die hard, and you might need to get out of here quickly one day. It's going to be hard, you're high up, and the entrance to the elevator had the feeling of an airlock. Yes. That's what's been bothering you, the faint hiss when the door opened. Is this place pressurized? Maybe. The air smells clean, maybe a little too clean. A little too quiet, but good insulation only makes sense if you're rich. The corridor continues, but you do obey an take the first door on the left, and as she said, it leads to the bathroom.

Not the master one, for sure. Too small for a flat this size, and with none of the personal touches you had been hoping for. Nothing revealing in the medicine cabinet, the towels crisp and clean as if they had never been used. Does she have a housekeeper? Probably, this place wouldn't be so spotless otherwise.

Ignoring the mirror, you take the chance to check the ventilation system. There's no windows here, but as you thought, the ventilation feels climate controlled. You wish you could put your finger on what it is that bothers you about this place, apart from the fact that you're about to watch movies with a Ranger that knows your secret identity. That's not good. That's very much not good. You splash some cold water in your face to settle your brief anxiety attack, and focus on your breathing for a moment. There's no threat here, at least not more than Argent always is, so why are all your instincts screaming at you to run? To get out when you can?

Looking up at the mirror, you finger your lip while trying to ignore your face. Why is she doing this? What does she get out of it? Nothing here makes sense, let alone you. Biting down on your lip sends a cleansing flash of pain through your system. That you can trust, That's real.

You let out a sigh and splash your face again, checking in the mirror to make sure you leave all your insecurities in the bathroom when you step back out.

No time for weakness.

"That was faster than I thought." Argent looks up from where she's rummaging through one of the bookshelves, where rows and rows of movies stand behind elegant glass doors to keep the dust out. You had thought it was books at a first glance, looks like she's taking her media consumption seriously.

"I'm saving my breakdown for later," you joke. "The coffee would get cold."

"Got the movie picked out, grab a seat." She gestures to the couch, a rounded cloud of pink velvet, just a shade more flamingo than the walls.

"Don't I get a choice?" You carefully sit down, half expecting the couch to swallow you whole, but it's firmer than you imagined it would be. Comfortable. You shove some of the decorative pillows to the side, wondering who puts sequins on something like that. Can't be comfortable.

"Nope." She pops in the disc. "You snooze you lose."

"Couldn't agree more," you say, grabbing one of her macaroons.

"Oh that's just begging for trouble," she chuckles, sliding up on the couch next to you, grabbing another one.

"Have you met me?" You crunch down on it like it was a challenge, and she just pops hers into her mouth and swallows. Damn, did she even chew?

"I have, just didn't think you were as much of an ass without your face on."

"And what do you think now?"

"Oh it's you, alright. But I have to admit you're putting up a good front with the others."

"And how do you feel about that?" You sip your coffee.

"Are you planning to put any more of them in the hospital?"

"If they get in my way." You shake your head, trying to take the edge out of your voice. "Do we need to do this right now?"

"I guess we don't..." she lets out a sigh and carefully peels a cupcake. "If you hurt them too badly, I'll stop you."

"You mean you'll try."

"Oh I haven't begun to get serious with you." You realize with a jolt that her pupils have returned, and are staring straight at you. Three in each eye, and you grit your teeth not to squirm.

"Later. We'll deal with this later, or we'll have to deal with it now and then the coffee will be cold and the the cupcakes will be ruined. You and me both know this isn't something that can last, but right now we have a truce. Right now. Let's deal with next month then."

"Deal." She relaxes slightly, but the pupils remain as she licks the frosting from the cupcake with a silvery tongue you try not to stare at. "Not gonna lie, part of me thinks this is the stupidest decision of my life."

"You're not alone in that." Your face twitches, but you force yourself to look away. Break that eye contact, it made you feel too much like you were prey. "But here we are."

"About to watch a movie." She sinks back into the couch, placing the tray between you, in easy reach. "A sappy one."

"You wouldn't dare," you say unable to stop the smile. Defuse the situation. Good. You would not want to fight her without your armor.

"Don't knock seventies romantic comedies."

"You weren't even born then."

"Neither were you." She gestures to the television and it turns on. Interesting, is it a similar interface to Dr. Mortum's? You don't see a remote anywhere. "I like them from back when there still was a Hollywood."

"Oh no, is this 'Hold for Hero'?" The opening is recognizably garish, late seventies hero flicks were notable only for their lack of taste.

"You've see it?" Her squeal is nothing but delightful.

"Part of it," you say, trying to remember. It had been running on the hotel cable back when you were holing up somewhere... "It was a long time ago, it's the one with the roller skate duel, right?"

"My favorite part," she purrs, grabbing another cupcake. "I wanted roller skates so badly after that. I was so mad I didn't get any for my birthday."

"Could buy some now," you suggest, a little more subdued. Birthdays. Yeah. That was a reminder you didn't need of the divide between you. She grew up watching old movies and getting birthday presents. You...

You remember when you saw it now. Right after you escaped from the farm the second time, you had been holed up in a motel in the middle of nowhere, the television blaring nonsense to help you keep your head quiet.

How long had you stayed there? Long enough to get your feet back under you. Long enough that even drugs couldn't keep you awake. It was only luck that kept you out of their hands, if they had found you they could have recaptured you without issue.

But they didn't.

You realize that you are cradling the empty mug hard enough to make your hands shake, but a glance over at Argent only reveals her eyes welded to the screen. There's a distant look on her face as well that has nothing to do with the softness of the movie. You know that look. Loss and bad memories.

"I'm stealing one of your éclairs," you mumble to break the tension.

"I'll kick your ass later," she mumbles back, equally soft. But her fingers brush yours when you reach for it, and she lets you get your price unmolested.

The movie is easier to focus on for both of you.

---

"I will admit, it was better than I remembered," you admit once the credits are rolling. You can be honest about that, because you weren't exactly in the best headspace last time you saw it.

"Told you." Argent sounds smug, but she's more relaxed as well, Most of the baked goods are gone, and she puts the tray back on the table. "You get to pick the genre next time."

"Not the movie?"

"No, you obviously have bad judgment."

"In many things," you admit with a chuckle. "You got any horror?"

"Have I got..." she huffs, and you can swear the hair almost burrs up like an angry cockatiel. "Yes, I've got horror, and just for that you're getting the good stuff." She pushes out of the couch, stomping over to the shelf and yanking out a movie without even looking.

"Am I supposed to be worried?"

"Only if you don't have better nerves than Ortega."

"Of course I've got better nerves than Ortega, that's not even a question."

"I knew you were going to say that. Liar."

"Prove me wrong then."

"Don't come crying to me when I do." She pops in the movie, then dims all the lights with a wave of her hand. Her skin flickers in the light of the screen as she sneaks back to the couch.

It's only when the couch has settled under her weight and the darkness is complete that you realize what has been bothering you about her apartment.

No windows.

Not a single one.

Sure, it's big, but who builds rooms with no daylight when they're meant for customers with money? There should be panoramic windows everywhere. Was there one in the kitchen? No, you don't think there were. Certainly not here, the darkness would reveal any glimpses of light. You bite back the claustrophobia, this is not a trap, you know that, intellectually. You can understand it for security reasons. No windows means no snooping. This is a fortress, not a cell, there is a difference, but you don't hold the key, do you?

Your rub your palms against your thighs, they feel itchy and damp, your unease heightened by the music. It's hard to sit still, you keep shifting, trying to suppress the need to move. Just breathe. In and out.

In the darkness, a cool hand squeezes yours, a little too hard. Argent.

She holds your hand and the feeling is a grounding one. Her fingers are solid and soft, not damp like yours, but a little slick against your skin. Slippery. She shifts a little, leaning in closer, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hair is soft where it brushes against your neck, she smells like danger and cupcakes. Does she think it's the movie that worries you?

You hope so. You can deal with that. But can you deal with this?

There's nothing soft about her when fighting, but right now she's relaxed and pliable, fitting right next to you, a compact, slick form almost invisible in the dark. You look down at your intertwined hands, no claws, blunt fingertips now, wrapped around yours, reflecting the bluish light of the screen. Someone's getting killed on it, you can hear the screams, but distant. Television never felt real to you, no psychic imprint. A picture of a murder was just a picture because there were no feelings to sense. Detached from reality. Like dead people, nothing to feel there.

Still, you feel her flinch next to you when the female lead stumbles into the water, trashing wildly to untangle herself from what grabs her from below. Empathy? Maybe, she wouldn't have so many movies if they didn't mean anything to her. So you squeeze her hand back, and rest your cheek against the top of her head.

Soft. Deceptively soft. The hair almost cut through your armor when you yanked off a few strands for testing. Testing that didn't make sense. Not yet. There's too many questions that surround her. Questions you should have answers to. She's too dangerous to be an unknown.

But she's holding your hand.

Her breath is too quick, but so is yours and someone is dying gruesomely on screen, the water red with blood. She holds her breath and you kiss the top of her head and she lets you.

The next time she tilts her head so your lips touch her forehead, and then she drags you close, noses bumping before she finds your lips.

Licking a razor. Putting the knife in your mouth when you eat, feeling it clack against your teeth. It makes sense, she's a danger but you never minded putting a blade to your throat and press down. Does she feel the same? Maybe. You've hurt her in the past, you could do it again. But she kisses you all the same, her fingers running through your hair, not cutting your skin. Not like on the screen. Every prey fights back eventually, that's the lesson of horror. Give a girl a knife and they can bring down the biggest monster. Become one herself.

You're not sure who's the monster here. Or who's holding the blade.

Maybe it doesn't matter anymore.

[backtothestart02]

I LOVE your cool and creamy fic!! It’s so cute and so much fluff :)) also love the girl with the black Cadillac too, are u updating that one soon?

It’s next on my list. 🙂

[worryinglyinnocent]

Ficlet: Lacey L’Amour

Summary: Mr Gold recognises Storybrooke’s newest resident, Belle French, from a slightly less salubrious place – his pornography collection. Pure PWP smutlet.

Rated: E

=====

Lacey L’Amour

Mr Gold had been standing staring at the door of his shop for at least an hour and a half, and he had not moved a muscle in all that time. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was still upright, he’d be seriously tempted to say that he hadn’t drawn breath in all that time either. 

It took a lot to render Gold speechless, and even more to render him into a state of semi-catatonia, but Belle French, librarian and Storybrooke’s newest resident, having lived in the town for less than a week, had managed when she had walked into his shop to introduce herself. It had been all that Gold could do to maintain his usual calm and professional facade whilst he had been talking to her, and the moment she had left his shop - at least an hour and a half ago, now - all his higher brain function had unceremoniously ceased. 

The reason for this was very simple. Whilst Belle French was introducing herself to Gold for the first time, Gold was already very intimately acquainted with Belle French. Or, as he knew her, Lacey L’Amour. It was rather hard to keep up polite conversation with a woman whom he’d seen naked and performing sex acts, and to whose image he had wanked many, many times.

Once Gold had finally managed to drag himself out of his stupor, he knew that he was not going to get anything done today until he had made absolutely, doubly sure that his eyes were not deceiving him. Maybe once he got home and checked the DVD, he’d find that Belle and Lacey actually looked nothing alike and it had all been a moment of madness. Maybe Belle had an identical twin sister in the adult film industry. Maybe…

Gold pulled himself away from this train of thought and left the shop, closing the door and locking up with jerky, agitated movements that to the outside observer would have indicated intense anger. He was not angry, but he certainly didn’t want to interact with any more humans than necessary considering his current state of lust-fuelled brain fog. It was a miracle that he was fit to drive, and it was even more of a miracle that he managed to get the Cadillac home in one piece. 

Once inside the house, safe from the world outside and more importantly, safe from any unexpected follow-up visits from Belle, he dragged out the cardboard box in which all his adult films were hidden - the box of shame, he called it. 

There she was, on the top of the stack: Lacey L’Amour in Maids Make House Calls. It certainly looked like Belle. True, here she was wearing a sexy smirk instead of the bright smile she’d had when she had walked into the pawn shop, but the resemblance was uncanny. He picked up the next DVD: Lacey L’Amour in License to Thrill. On this cover she’d swapped the skimpy maid’s outfit for a skin-tight latex catsuit unzipped past her navel, and Gold felt himself beginning to strain against his zipper. 

He sighed as he took out the DVD and went over to the TV. It wasn’t as if denying himself was going to make matters any better, so he might as well indulge. The familiar film began, Agent L’Amour stripping out of her catsuit in order to seduce an informant and get valuable intelligence. 

It was definitely Belle. Although the sultry sway in her walk was played up for the camera, he’d recognised that same glide of the hips as she’d walked away from the shop counter earlier. There was the lip bite as she feigned coy innocence, spreading out on the bed to beckon her lover up between her thighs. For a moment, Gold could dream that she was beckoning to him, and he quickly unzipped; taking his cock in hand and tugging quickly to release the pressure. 

On screen, Lacey turned the tables, sitting on her informant’s face and letting herself take a little pleasure from his mouth before getting down to business. Her pert little breasts were heaving and God, Gold wished that he was the one tasting her gorgeous pussy, even if he knew that two minutes later, the informant would reveal himself as an enemy agent and get his neck snapped between Lacey’s creamy thighs for his efforts.

Once the film came to an end with Agent L’Amour’s intense orgasm at the hands of the only person she trusted – herself, with the aid of her extensive toy collection – Gold found himself spent and sticky, his shirt utterly ruined with the stains of his seed. He closed his eyes with a groan, thinking about Belle French in his shop. The sway of her hips, the fact he knew what she looked like naked at the height of her pleasure, the fact he would never see it in person because after this there was no way he could ever look her in the eye again, let alone hold a conversation with her or do anything else remotely related to forming an intimate acquaintance.

He heaved himself out of his chair and went to take a very cold shower. And possibly to burn his shirt.

X

By the time he next spoke to Belle French in the shop, Gold had frozen enough sense into himself that he was able to get through the ordeal without too much difficulty. Of course, she was wearing very red lipstick and he mouth did form that perfect O of delight when he was explaining the humorous origins of some of the things in the shop, and good lord, it was almost the lead-in to another skin flick in itself.

He was very nearly home and dry when he made the one fatal error, just as Belle was saying her goodbyes.

“I’ll see you soon, Mr Gold.”

“I hope so, Miss L’Am… French.” Belle froze and Gold groaned, closing his eyes. “Oh, fuck it all to hell.”

He cracked open one eye. A mischievous little smile had come over Belle’s face.

“You’re familiar with my previous line of work then, Mr Gold,” she said.

Gold nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“It’s all right. I’m not ashamed of it. I made good money and paid off all my student loans thanks to Lacey L’Amour. It’s no longer part of my life, but I don’t regret it. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

She leaned in over the counter, whispering in his ear. “Maybe one day, I can show you some of my tricks of the trade.”

Gold sat down with a bump, and Belle left him wondering, gobsmacked, if a former porn star had really just made such an offer to him…

[ramshornrestaurantram]

Plateful Pleasure - A Symphony of Tastes in Every Bite

Ram’s Horn Restaurant, a well-established dining institution, has a rich history rooted in attention to quality and an authentic culinary experience. The restaurant was founded in Detroit’s Cadillac Square in 1967 by the Kasapis brothers - Eugene, Constantinos (Gus), and Steve. This family of restaurateurs brought their father's years of experience to the table, setting the stage for the success of Ram's Horn. The menu encapsulates a diverse selection that tastefully caters to varied palates, presenting a meticulous blend of flavors in each dish. Over the years, they have remained steadfast in maintaining their high-quality standards, creating meals that are not only delicious but also consistent in taste and presentation. Today, with 12 locations in Metro Detroit, Ram’s Horn Restaurant continues to serve its community, honoring its long-standing tradition of excellent food and service.

The culinary mastery at this restaurant transcends conventional dining, setting the stage for an immersive, multi-sensorial experience. Every dish is a testament to their commitment to quality, meticulously crafted with fresh, high-quality ingredients. The menu, an impressive array of classic and modern cuisine, caters to a vast demographic, ensuring every patron finds a dish that resonates with their unique palate. A meal here isn't just dining - it's an experience that lingers, a memory that beckons you back. As this place continues to expand its presence in Metro Detroit, it remains rooted in its founding values, delivering superior dining experiences that echo the rich legacy of the Kasapis brothers.

The visual allure of a meal at Ram’s Horn Restaurant Fraser serves as the initial seduction, setting the stage for the epicurean performance that ensues. It's not a mere superficial display but an artistic composition, reminiscent of a maestro's masterpiece. Each element, from the vibrant hues of fresh, hand-picked produce to the careful arrangement of components, is a testament to this place’s commitment to quality and authenticity. The artistic drizzle of sauces weaves a pattern of taste and texture on the platter, creating an appealing tableau that heightens the anticipation of the culinary journey ahead. The exemplary standards set by the current owner, Lee Drouillard, echo through each bite, making the dining experience not just about fulfilling hunger, but about relishing a well-orchestrated symphony of flavors.

Transitioning beyond the visual, the first encounter with the dish is a revelation of textures. As you take your first bite, you are greeted by a symphony of sensations. The crunch of the perfectly crispy exterior gives way to the lusciously tender and melt-in-your-mouth interior. It's a delightful juxtaposition of contrasting elements – the creamy and the crunchy – that not only tantalizes your taste buds but also creates a multisensory experience like no other. With each bite, you embark on a culinary journey that transcends the boundaries of a mere meal, inviting you to indulge in a sensory exploration of flavors, textures, and sheer gastronomic delight.

Yet, it is in the realm of taste that the true narrative unfolds. Every ingredient on the plate contributes a unique note, and it is the skilled chef who orchestrates these diverse flavors into a cohesive composition. The sweetness of caramelized elements, the savory depth of well-reduced sauces, and the nuanced heat of thoughtfully selected spices combine to create a flavor profile that resonates on the taste buds.

Within this symphony of tastes at Ram’s Horn Restaurant, balance is the guiding principle. The skilled chef navigates the delicate equilibrium between sweet and savory, salty and sour. It is this artful balance that distinguishes an ordinary dish from an extraordinary one, as an excessive presence of one element risks overshadowing the nuanced interplay of flavors. The technique of seasoning emerges as a critical element in this delicate dance. A judicious use of salt and pepper enhances without overwhelming, allowing the natural flavors to shine. Herbs and spices, when employed with precision, contribute layers of complexity, transforming a dish into a multi-faceted culinary experience.

The concept of pairings adds another layer to the narrative. A well-chosen accompaniment, whether it be a complementary wine or the interplay of contrasting textures, enhances the overall dining experience. It is a thoughtful addition that elevates the flavors, creating a synergy that resonates throughout the meal. The marriage of sugar, fat, and flour in a meticulously crafted confection is a celebration of indulgence. The delicate dance of sweetness and acidity, the contrast of textures, all contribute to the final crescendo of pleasure that accompanies the conclusion of the meal.

The concept of taste extends beyond the confines of a particular dining establishment. It is present in the comforting embrace of a home-cooked meal, where personal touches and familial love infuse each dish with an extra layer of warmth. It is evident in the vibrant street food stalls of bustling markets, where the sizzle of grills and the aroma of spices create a sensory narrative that captivates those passing by. And of course, it is deeply ingrained in the menu offerings of Ram's Horn Restaurant, a culinary cornerstone.

In a world that often moves at a relentless pace, the act of savoring a well-prepared meal becomes a moment of respite, a pause in the chaos of everyday life. It is a reminder that amidst our busy schedules and demanding responsibilities, there is solace to be found in the simple joy of a flavorful meal.

As we explore the diverse landscapes of global cuisine, it becomes apparent that the narrative of taste transcends cultural boundaries. Whether it's the umami-rich flavors of a Japanese ramen or the aromatic spices of an Indian curry, the language of food connects us through a shared appreciation for the pleasures of the table. 

The exploration of taste within a dining establishment like Ram's Horn Restaurant is an enchanting narrative that transcends the mere play of words. It is a captivating journey through a rich tapestry woven from the finest threads of carefully curated ingredients, expert techniques, and culinary artistry that knows no bounds. Each dish tells a unique story, weaving together flavors, aromas, and textures to create a symphony of sensory delight. With every bite, we embark on a transcendental experience that tantalizes the taste buds and transports us to a realm where gastronomy meets storytelling in its most exquisite form.

[emospritelet]

KoL: what if during a feverish wandering, Belle ends up asleep in Gold's bed. So Gold comes home, and Belle is in his bed...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13]

AO3 link

Gold had been quiet and reserved all that evening, staying out of her way except to bring her tea and iced water to slake her thirst.  He brought her onion soup for dinner: glistening translucent slices of onion and garlic in a rich beef broth with thyme.  It was comforting and delicious, and Belle was surprised to find that she emptied the bowl.  After checking her fever and frowning to himself, he gave her something to take it down, cool fingers feeling her throat to check for swelling.  He was a little more talkative when he went into Doctor mode, she found, treating her with the same firm, but kind detachment that he showed all his patients.  She thought that he probably wanted her out of his house so he could relax, but he was far too polite to say so.

She was still very ill, and fell asleep easily, so she wasn’t surprised that the next time she woke, it was morning.  Gold had opened the door, a cup of tea in his hand and a tiny smile on his face.  He set down the cup on the nightstand, reaching out to feel her forehead.  His mouth set in a grim line.

“I think you’ll feel a little worse before you feel better,” he said.  “Make sure you get plenty of rest today, and drink plenty of water.  I’ll bring you some before I go out.”

“You’re going to work?” she said, disappointed, and he nodded.

“If Whale doesn’t take a day off soon, he’ll end up like you,” he said.  “I’ll see you tonight, though.  Get some sleep, and perhaps your fever will break.”

He smiled at her then, and she watched him go, clad in his perfect suit with his perfect hair and his eyes that were just a little too sad.  She realised that she didn’t know enough about him.  Had he always lived alone?  Did he have a dark and terrible past, a cheating ex who had broken his heart beyond repair, perhaps?  Was that why he never dated, why he had never married?  She snuggled down in the blankets, tugging them up under her chin with a sigh. Maybe he doesn’t like people that way.  Maybe he’s completely happy living his single, celibate life, and I’ve just barged in here invading his house and whipping off my shirt and bursting in on him naked like a big freak!

Belle cringed at the thought of it, of how her actions might have been viewed from his perspective.  Really, she was a walking disaster.  The man had the patience of a saint.  The sooner she was well enough to get up and go home, the better.

x

She slept for much of the day, getting up only to use the bathroom.  Her legs felt as though they were made of jelly, threatening to pitch her onto the floor at any moment, and as the afternoon drew on she grew more feverish, teeth chattering even as her skin felt like fire.  She decided to take a bath in the hope that it would make her feel better, and there was some relief in sinking down into the hot water, filled with herbal-scented bubbles.  Thinking of Dr Gold taking a bubble bath was equal parts amusing and intriguing, and she tried to build up a mental image of how that would go, which was certainly easier now that she knew what he was hiding beneath his suit.  Her mind then took a detour as she wondered what else he might do in the bath, and she had to yank it back before it could prove too distracting.

Telling herself firmly to stop treating the poor man like a sex object, she splashed water on her face and shoulders to wash off stray bubbles.  Getting out was difficult; she had no strength in her limbs and despite the heat of the water, was shivering so much she could barely get the towel around herself. She stumbled from the bathroom, barging through the door opposite and crawling into the bed with a sigh of relief.  The blankets were heavy and warm, and she drew up her knees, closing her eyes, the pillow cool against her burning cheek.

x

Dr Gold had found the day easier, his illness having improved, and so he worked longer than he had intended.  It turned out to have been a mistake; he was exhausted by the time he took off his scrubs, and not for the first time he gave himself a lecture on not taking his own advice and resting.  The hospital had been so busy he had barely noticed fatigue creeping up on him, and it wasn’t until he stopped that he realised how tired he was.  Thankfully Dorothy wasn’t there to call him an idiot. But there again if she had been she would have told him to go home hours ago. Not that he would have listened.

He walked out to the Cadillac, his limp more pronounced, his gait slower than usual.  It was still bitterly cold, the wind trying to get through his coat, snow and ice still making the parking lot treacherous, but he managed to get to his car without falling on his arse, so that was something.  It started to snow again when he was on the road, but the snowfall was light.  He doubted they would be snowed in again.

The house was silent when he let himself in, and he wondered if Belle was sleeping.  Sneaking upstairs as quietly as he could, he gently tapped on her door before opening it and putting his head around.  He was surprised to find her bed empty, and backed out with a frown.  The bathroom door was ajar, and so he peeked inside, spying the pyjamas he had lent her discarded on the floor, but no Belle.  The air was humid, scented with the herbal bubble bath he sometimes used, and he presumed she had taken a bath.  So where was she?  Concern was starting to needle him, and he backed out of the bathroom, ears pricking up as he heard a soft noise from the room behind.  His bedroom.  Curious, he pushed open the door, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

The lamps were off, but the landing light cast a sharp-edged swathe of warm gold into the room.  It fell across the bed, the shadows beyond seeming darker.  Belle was asleep in his bed, lying curled on her front with her arms around a pillow, dark curls spread out around her head.  Her arms and shoulders and her upper back were bare above the blankets, and he realised with a sharp intake of breath that she was naked.  In his bed.

He knew he should move, should back out of the room and pretend he hadn’t seen her, but his feet seemed glued in place.  Belle’s cheeks were flushed, her lips parted as she breathed, and all at once she sighed restlessly and turned, rolling onto her back.  Gold swallowed hard.  Her breasts were exposed, beautiful creamy curves tipped with pale pink nipples, and he tried to wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, his mouth suddenly dry.  He knew without a doubt that they would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, that the nipples would harden at the pull of his lips, the sweep of his tongue.  He wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked, and for a moment imagined how it might feel to draw his tongue down her body, to pull aside the blankets and kiss down between her legs.  To taste her pleasure and hear her moans of bliss.

His cock twitched in his pants, making him blink rapidly, and he took a step back, cutting off the view of her a little.  His heart was thumping, and he ran a hand through his hair in agitation.  She’s sick.  She must have stumbled into the wrong room after her bath, and fallen asleep.  She’s sick and she needs your help, and all you can do is stand there ogling her like a fucking pervert!

He backed out further, pulling the door closed behind him, and made his way to the stairs, telling himself firmly to make some dinner and stop thinking about what he had just seen.  She was sick, and she was a guest in his house.  She was a colleague, new to her post and in need of support and guidance.  And she was half his age, beautiful and far too good for the likes of him.  But for a moment he had looked on her, and wondered how it might feel to come home to her in his bed.  For a moment he had wanted to peel off his suit and climb in beside her and take her in his arms.

[ltleflrt]

For the WIP ask: Fake married mafia AU? Mafia AUs are my fave

I love this AU!  I actually have some of this written, and I think I want it to be my next big project :D

Dean is the kept boy of Mafia leader Cain, and Castiel is Dean’s bodyguard.  When there’s a hostile takeover of the “family” and Cain is murdered, Castiel and Dean escape and go into hiding together.  Their disguise is a gay married couple in suburbia.  Here’s the Tumblr post.  And here’s a clip:

The hand sweeping up and down Dean’s chest is scarred and callused, the pinky bent at an unnatural angle from a fight that happened so long ago, Dean isn’t sure he’d even been born yet at the time.  It’s the hand of a killer.  Covered in so much metaphorical blood that it should leave stains on Dean’s skin as it caresses the curve of his belly.  But the only thing it leaves behind is a trail of goosebumps after each soothing stroke.  

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates on the phantom touch.  He wants to grab that gentle hand in both his own, and pull it to his lips.  To kiss every knuckle, and nibble each fingertip.  But he holds completely still, unwilling to disturb the scene.  

Because if he concentrates too hard, he’ll remember that it’s a dream.  The last time he’d seen the hand it had been limp against creamy satin sheets, dripping with thick crimson, proof of Cain’s sins finally visible on his skin...

A touch on Dean’s shoulder brings him bolt upright, and something in his neck twinges when he jerks his head toward the only other person in the car.  Adrenaline floods his system, and he reaches for the gun tucked under his jacket.

Behind the wheel of the Cadillac, Castiel holds his hand up to show his lack of weapon or intent to harm.  He takes his gaze off the dark road ahead of them, and his blue eyes bore into Dean, the blank stare comforting in its familiarity.  “You were dreaming.”

Ask me about my WIPS