#bourbon and barbecue

[rockymountainbarrelcompany]

Originating from the southern states of the US, bourbon and BBQ are a combination to die for. It’s arguably the most classic pairing in the history of food and beverage pairings. But what’s it about bourbon and barbecue that makes it so special?

[daily-deliciousness]

Easy oven baked pork ribs (bourbon and peach bbq sauce)

[technofinch]

Alright change of plans I'm very sleepy and going to bed after this match. But we'll be having mimosas in the morning if oc wins

[bourbontrend]

triple quotes Looking for a bourbon that captures the true spirit of Texas? Dive into our latest review of Samuel Maverick Private Reserve Bottled in Bond Bourbon. Discover the rich history, unique flavors, and meticulous craftsmanship behind this exceptional whiskey. Perfect for sipping neat or in cocktails, find out why it's a must-have for bourbon enthusiasts. Check out the full review now!

[matsiro-be]

Une recette salée avec de la vanille Bourbon.

Crevettes à la vanille.

Préparation :

Fendre et déveiner des crevettes crues;

Mariner les crevettes avec de l'huile avec une vanille fendue, du sel et du poivre;

Cuire au four, au gril, à la plancha ou au barbecue environ 3-4' de chaque côté jusqu'à ce que les crevettes rougissent.

Servir avec du citron vert.

[cassidymandel]

Bourbon and Brown Sugar Barbeque Sauce Homemade bourbon and brown sugar barbeque sauce is a perfect complement to pulled pork or chicken.

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[sgt-tombstone]

If Graves hadn’t betrayed the 141, he and Simon “I love Kentucky” Riley would get along really well

And now I want a roadtrip fic where Soap, Ghost, and Graves go on a month-long quest to find the best Bourbon in America

Graves drives, because it’s his classic rust red Ford Bronco and because both Soap and Ghost refuse to drive on the right side of the road

Ghost gets passenger seat and tortures them all with the aux, playing nothing but country and rock music. He plays Sweet Home Alabama so many times that even Graves threatens to run over his phone

Soap has a blast in the backseat, complaining about the lack of quality Scotch, perfecting the fine art of road rage, and sticking his head out the window like a dog

The two UK boys pick up Graves’ opinions on most things they encounter, including the best barbecue, his thoughts on drivers from other states, and what artists are considered “real” country

For maximum fun and shenanigans, throw Alex in the car and watch it explode. I originally headcanoned Alex being from upstate New York like his voice actor, but then I found out that his VA spent a lot of time in Hollywood and now I can’t get the idea of Californian Alex Keller out of my head. Graves’ VA is from San Antonio and while he spent most of his childhood in Washington DC, Graves is a Texan through and through and no one can convince me otherwise. I love the idea of both of them trapped in the same car, opining about all things America, and disagreeing about absolutely everything because there’s nothing a Californian hates more than a Texan and nothing a Texan hates more than a Californian

Meanwhile, Price, Gaz, and Farah spend the month at a fishing cabin, having father/daughter/son bonding time and attempting not to think about what the boys are getting up to. Price watches the news every night just in case. He doesn’t care if the boys make the local news wherever they are, but as soon as he catches a single glimpse of them on national news, he’s going to slap with a disciplinary write-up so fast it’ll make their heads spin

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s a wild evening back on the base in Las Almas, drinks are poured, food is served, and the 141 and Los Vaqueros are getting to know each other better than any gunfight will ever let them. Spades has unfortunately found herself stuck in the middle of a cutthroat poker game with Alejandro, Ghost, and Price. Gaz, Soap, and Rudy had long decided to bow out of the game after each losing a good chunk of their paycheck, but God, the stakes were high now. A bottle of vintage bourbon, three rare cigars, a couple thousand dollars, and a few gemstones Spades had handy.

It's dangerous as the bets keep growing, and even Spades is starting to sweat like Alejandro and Price are as the cards keep moving.

It’s Price who tosses his cards into the pile first, a curse under his breath and Alejandro follows with, “Mierda.”

It’s just Ghost and Spades now, and he’s staring her down cooly.

“Feeling the heat, love?” he asks nonchalantly, and she inhales and exhales.

“I’m feeling something, Simon.” She looks at him. “I wonder if this is the night I finally lose?”

Something in his eyes reveals shock which quickly turns to pride as he shows his cards. A straight flush of diamonds. Five to nine. Everyone groans and Simon chuckles darkly as he collects his winnings.

Spades doesn’t show her cards, merely rises from her seat to cross the table, taking Simon’s bourbon from him; she sips it and gets low on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “I’ll lose some night, but that night is not tonight.” She sets her cards down in front of him and he goes slack. “Eat my flush, babe.”

“No…” he breathes. “There’s no way you managed this.”

Five men are sticking their heads over to see what her hand is and it’s one of the rarest hands you can get. A royal flush, all Aces.

Spades hands the men back their items, save the money and gems, but takes Simon’s bottle of bourbon, and plucks Price’s lit cigar from his mouth, puffing it as she dances away towards a group of men and women barbecuing, as free and as pridefully as she pleases.

[fictionalmenxyn]

Beach day,

All of task force 141 had some time off, finally. And why not spend that time together at the beach? Well that was the plan for today.

You were packing some fresh food and some drinks while Ghost kept the two boys content by putting on the tv. You and Ghost have been together since you two were young. And not long ago you both had kids of your own, Oliver being the oldest as he’s three and your youngest Harry which is one. You two found out you were expecting a child while Ghost was on leave and you two were happy yet scared. Both having rough pasts it was hard to thing you both were bringing life into this world. But the Task force stayed by your side through the thick and thin.

While finishing up in the kitchen you shouted “Si! Can you get the boys towels and place them in the beach bag, please!” He replied “ok, are they in the laundry room?” You said “yeah” he left the living room and went to go grab the towels. Then you felt a small tap on your thigh, looking down it was Oliver. You smiled and asked “what can I do for you, Ollie?” He asked “can I have Strawberry, please?” You nodded and handed him one as you were cutting the last few strawberries.

Now packing the car, you buckled both boys into their car seats. Ghost said “everyone ready?” Buckling yourself in you said “yep, all ready” Ghost stared up the car and headed off towards the beach.

Arriving there, you were getting the kids out Ghost rang Price to see if he had arrived which he did. You placed Harry in his baby sling, you asked “Ollie, can you hold my hand as we cross the car park, please” he did as he was told and held your hand.

Walking over towards the boys, Oliver let go of your hand and rang straight over to Price and jumped into Price’s open arms. You said “hi boys, how are you all?” Gaz replied “not too bad, how are you Y/n?” You said “doing good thanks” Soap asked “who’s ready for the beach?!” Oliver shouted “me!!” You all laugh at the excitement coming from Oliver.

Setting up everything, Ghost placed a umbrella right by your chair so Harry was shielded from the sunlight. You sat down and took Harry out of the sling and you started up a conversation with the boys as you watched Oliver play in the sand.

You took off your T-shirt to reveal your baking top, sighing in relief you felt a small breeze brush against your skin. You looked over to Oliver and asked “want to go in the water Ollie?” He nodded and lifted his arms up as you placed his life jacket on him. Buckling his up, you took his hand as you both ran towards the beautiful blue water.

Splashing about Oliver and you were having the time of your life. You said “hey Ollie, how about we go look for some nice sea shells to place around the house?” He agreed and you both started walking the shoreline; whatever sea shell drew your attention you placed in Oliver’s Spider-Man bucket.

Walking back over to the men, you said “go show everyone what we got.” He ran over and showed the four men all the sea shells you two had collected.

After a few hours at the beach, you all headed to the cafe that was next to the car park. You was holding Oliver as he looked at what he wanted to eat. You both decided to go for a ham sandwich each.

Sitting outside, you handed everyone their food. You all sat around and tucked into your snacks. Once you were done you all decided to head back to yours and Ghost’s place.

Now back at your house you brought the kids inside as Ghost brought in the beach bags. You asked “does anyone want anything to drink?” Soap asked “what type of drinks do you have?” You answered “well if you want soft drinks we have coke, Fanta or sprite and for alcohol we have bourbon, red wine or coronas” Gaz asked “could I get a corona? please” you nodded Price spoke “I’ll have bourbon please” Soap asked “could I get a coke please” you nodded and said “I’ll grab them now, head out the back I think Simon has already started up the barbecue” they all left to go outside.

You looked down to see Oliver, you said “can you help mummy with the drinks?” He smiled and nodded. You handed him a can of coke and said “go take that to uncle Soap” he left the kitchen. As he was on his was back you were pouring everyone’s alcoholic beverages. You turned around after hearing the litter patters of Oliver’s shoes. You handed him a capri-sun and said “go join dad and your uncles in the garden” he nodded and left.

You walked out the kitchen and into the garden with beverages in hand. You gave everyone their drinks and you sat down joint the lads. You watched as Ghost cooked the nice steak you had bought earlier this morning.

You rocked Harry in your arms as you are your food. Ghost asked “want me to take him to bed?” You shook your head and said “no thank you though, he’ll be fine by here” he nodded and took a swig of his drink.

Later that night everyone went home, you had tucked in your two children and headed to bed. Simon laying there watching tv on your bed.

You changed into your comfy clothes which were a pair of shorts and one of Ghost’s jack Daniel T-shirts. You crawled under the sheets and cuddled next to Ghost. You rested your head on his chest and said “thank you” he asked “for what?” You said “for arranging this day with the boys at the beach. It was a good day, thank you” he smiled replying “no problem, anything for you, my love” you asked “did you enjoy today?” He answered “of course, a day with you the kids are all I want” you smiled widely at the comment. He gave you a kiss and said “get some rest, you look tired” you smiled and said “good night, Si” he replied “night, my love” you said “I love you, Simon” he said “I love you even more” giving you one last kiss you decided it was time to settle down and go to sleep.

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to request or message if you want

Have a good day/night!🫶

I’ll post a group chat tomorrow since it was the second most popular on the latest poll.

[nikethestatue]

There Was Only One Bed

Happy birthday @tswaney17

My bestie, my mate, my girl. I love you oddles and I hope that your birthday is amazing! Enjoy this provocatively titled little story.

“When will you ever man up, grow a pair of actual balls, swallow your pride and your insecurities and do what you fucking want to do? For once!”

Cassian’s rough words jolted Azriel out of his reverie and she gave his brother-best friend-bro-business partner a look of contempt and disdain. The best one he could come up with. Problem was that Cass could give it back just as well, and then some.

“Fine,” Cass shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Yeah, fine. Mind your own business,” Azriel suggested, his annoyance tripling, simply because he knew that Cass was correct.

“You know, Cass is correct,” Rhys called out–unhelpfully–from the sofa.

Azriel couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling. It was as if his brothers were in cahoots and agreed to drive him crazy.

Cass tipped his tumbler back, swallowing the last of his whiskey, and pointed his finger at him, “You know, literally everyone knows.”

Rhys was nodding, drinking his vodka and lime, brow cocked meaningfully. 

Azriel, usually the picture of self-control and unreadable emotions, growled at both of them,

“Nobody knows anything. Why? Because it’s not true. You and her sisters convinced yourselves that there is something going on,”

Cassian shook his head vigorously, his long black hair whipping about as if he was advertising for Pantene,

“No, no, we know that nothing is going on,” he kept pointing at Azriel with his finger, and Azriel wondered if it would be inappropriate to just break it. Cass was a tough guy, he could handle it. “Because if there was something going, you’d be with Elain freakin’ Archeron, in bumfuck Tennessee, drinking bourbon, eating barbecue, just before going home and getting your birthday dick sucked like a proper 30 year old, instead of hanging out with us–two dudes, who will definitely not suck your birthday dick,”

To that, Rhys nodded his head in acquiescence and piped in,

“Yeah, love you bro, but you can keep your anaconda in your jeans,”

“Jesus fuck,” Azriel gritted through his teeth.

“No, Jesus wept!” Cassian roared, like he was personally offended by Azriel and Jesus. 

“Jesus has taken his hands off the wheel,” Rhys agreed. “He is no longer helping,”

Defensively, Azriel snapped at them, “Vanderbilt is not ‘bumfuck Tennessee’ Cassian.”

Cassian got up and went to the bar, pouring himself another drink, while saying,

“You know, don’t come crying to me a year from now, when Elain is getting a proposal from some corn-fed good ol’ boy who’s got a lifetime membership at an exclusive golf club, wears Sperrys, played football in college and is now a VP in daddy’s successful company.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure not to run to you,” Azriel assured him, his brother’s words stinging sharply and filling him with dread.

And that’s how he found himself on the plane from NYC to Tennessee. 

What was he even trying to accomplish? He had no idea.

All he knew was that last night, Elain texted him.

Elain: Hi Az! Happy birthday! It’s weird to not be there with you today.

Azriel: Thank you, El. 

(Thank you, El? What the hell?! That’s all he could manage? Maybe he was hopeless.) At that moment, for better or for worse, Cassian ripped the phone out of his hands and began tapping on it furiously. Azriel began wrestling with him, trying to get the phone back, before horrible damage was done, but Rhys and Nesta wrangled him back, while Cassian finished whatever he was typing, waited for the response, smirked widely once he read it, and then typed something more.

“Stop,” Azriel half-begged and half-ordered.

Cassian didn’t listen.

With a smug smile, he handed the phone back to Azriel. Azriel’s heart was beating in his chest like a bird in a cage, when he looked at the screen.

Azriel: I wish you were here as well. With me. For my 30th birthday.

Elain: I am sorry. I didn’t think you’d miss me.

Azriel: Don’t be ridiculous. I miss you all the time. More than you think. But guess what!

Elain: What?

Azriel: I’ll be there tomorrow. In Nash. Business trip.

Elain: You have business in Nashville? 

Azriel: Sure do. Can I stay with you?

Elain: You want to stay with me?

Azriel: If I may. If it’s alright with you. 

Elain: I suppose that’s fine. I will see you tomorrow? I am excited!

Azriel: Me too! See you.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?” Azriel screamed at Cassian, slapping the back of his brother’s head, and hearing Nesta’s defensive, “hey, chill out, Az!”

“He asked her if I could stay with her!” Azriel raged. “I’d never ask something like that! I’d never write something like that!”

“She don’t know that,” Cassian puffed indifferently. “She is fine. She wants you to stay with her.”

“No she doesn’t!” Azriel pulled at the ends of his thick, black hair. “No! No she doesn’t,”

“She said ‘yes’,”

“It’s because you forced her!!!”

Cassian slapped his shoulder and announced,

“No, you forced her, Az.”

Scowling, Azriel groaned ‘fucker’, while Rhysand handed him his own phone.

“Ticket booked and bought,” he grinned the most annoying fake-innocent smile.

Collapsing on the bar stool, Azriel buried his face in his hands, muttering, “fuckers. You are both fuckers.”

Azriel Knight loved Elain Archeron since the first time he saw her.

Pathetic. Cliche. 

Whatever.

He’d fallen for her during a very uncomfortable dinner, when her youngest sister Feyre introduced her new boyfriend Rhys to her sisters Nesta and Elain. Rhys had both Azriel and Cassian accompany him, and the dinner was kind of a disaster. Neither Cassian nor Nesta could keep their mouths shut, and there was plenty of bickering and sniping between the two. Feyre player referee. Rhys tried to remain diplomatic, and kept the conversation going. But Azriel…well, Azriel was enchanted by the beautiful middle sister, Elain. He didn’t hear Nesta and Cassian going at it. He didn’t notice Rhys’s hands balling into fists. He didn’t notice Feyre’s squirming. All he saw was an ethereal 24 year old, who glowed like the sun at dawn. Polite, lovely, welcoming Elain. Elain, who was clutching a fork in her small soft hand, ready to attack Cassian, if he continued to fight with Nesta. 

How could Azriel not love her?

How was it possible not to love a sweet, lovely girl who was willing to throw it down with his 6”5 ex-Navy Seal brother?

Elain. The love of his life.

Elain. Who had no idea that he was attracted to her. Elain. Who wasn’t interested in him. Elain. Who only saw him as a ‘friend’. 

Fuck his life. He didn’t want to be a friend. 

Now, he was turning 30 and he felt like his life, his last chance with her, was slipping through his fingers. However, somehow, the longer he waited the more paralysed he became. Conversations between the two of them became stilted, uncomfortable, and he was frustrated with himself and his inability to approach her and just have it out with her. Explain. Confess his feelings. But the prospect of her rejecting him filled him with such unbearable dread that he couldn’t bring himself to take that fateful step. He couldn't grow the balls that Cassian was recommending for him to grow. 

Azriel’s heart was broken even further when Elain notified everyone that she received a full scholarship to go to Vanderbilt University for her graduate program. 

Two years.

She’d left three months ago and he was already climbing the walls.

He texted her frequently and awkwardly, needing the connection, yearning for the thread of affection and yes, fucking friendship, because it was better than nothing. There was a glimmer of hope however–the communication wasn't one-sided. Elain texted him frequently as well. She sent him jokes and memes, and his favourite days were those when she greeted him in the morning with a fun emoji. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but the morning ‘hello’ was what he lived for. And luckily, she’d been sending those to him consistently. Sometimes, she sent him links to ridiculous Reddit posts and they laughed together at questions such as ‘I Ate a Year Old Packet of Ketchup. When will I die?’ and they laughed and laughed, talking on the phone for hours, often when they were cooking dinner or watching a show together.

Her not being at his 30th birthday sort of broke his heart. That’s all he actually really wanted. The only person who mattered. And she wasn’t there.

Nashville was hot as balls. 

By the time he got into his Uber, he was already sweating. So that was great. He was going to show up at Elain’s doorstep dripping sweat like a freak. 

The drive from the airport took about 25 minutes and with every minute, Azriel was getting more and more nervous. He and Elain were never really…together before. They hung out, they went out together in group settings, they celebrated Christmas and Thanksgiving and birthdays together, and Rhys hosted his annual huge 4th of July celebration barbeque, where they had to be in charge of dessert last year. Elain went into a full general mode, telling Azriel what to do, how to do it, what to get, and he was happy to follow her directions. Especially when those directions led him to her little apartment, where they spent 6 hours together, baking pies, making fudge, Elain directing him at every turn, and him following dutifully. 

The car stopped at a modern four-story apartment building and he got out, standing at the door for a good five minutes, sweating again, unable to press the button.

“Az!” he heard the familiar voice and looked up. She was on the balcony, waving at him, and just like that, the nervousness abated. 

This was his Elain. 

And whatever was going to happen, at least, he would spend his 30th with her.

Elain’s apartment was small, modern and very her. Piles of flowers everywhere. Smelled of jasmine and vanilla, and a touch of honey. Cute furniture. A neat sofa nestled between two bookshelves. 

He noticed all of these details while holding Elain in his arms, in which she threw herself the moment he stepped over the threshold.

“I can’t believe you are here!” she exclaimed, her arms wrapped around his waist, while he gingerly held her to himself. And it felt so, so good. For a moment, he forgot about everything–his bogus story about his ‘business trip’, his insecurity, the past, and the future. His girl was in his arms and that was enough. That was his best birthday gift.

“Okay, I made you dinner!” she announced, taking his ugly scarred hand in hers, her thumb tracing the bumpy, rough skin.

“You didn't have to,” he began, but she interrupted him breezily. 

“Nonsense! It’s your birthday! I wanted to make something special and I am so excited that you are here,”

He looked down at her and asked,

“Really?”

She nodded and smiled at him. 

“Of course really! I was beside myself for not being able to go back to NYC for your big 3-0, but money is tight,”

“I understand,” he assured her quickly. “I wasn’t expecting,”

“You should expect,” she told him firmly. “You should expect your friends to be there for you.”

Ugh.

Friends.

There it was. His most hated word.

“If you want to shower, it’s through there,” she showed him, “and I’ll finish up dinner.”

It was strange.

This domesticity between the two of them.

Azriel didn't know what to do with his bag, so he left it by the door. What worried him now was the little couch. He was 6”4. He could probably make it work, but he really wasn’t convinced. It was not made for someone of his bulk and his height. He hoped that Elain had an air mattress or something. Maybe he could sleep in the bathtub?

However, once he stepped into the bathroom, he only found a shower. 

Great…

As he stepped inside the glass enclosure, he became acutely aware of his own nakedness in Elain’s space. There was just a door between him and his nude body and Elain. Using her body wash was also nice. Intimate and he was happy that it didn’t smell too girly. Whatever ‘Snowflake Sparkle’ smelled like, it smelled good.

Elain went all out. 

The small round table was set up properly with nice dishes, wine glasses, even cloth napkins and a few candles.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he looked around, still hoping to see another sofa or something, but then Elain caught his attention. She had rebraided her hair, put on some softly-shimmering lip balm, which made her already soft, luscious lips look even plumper, more kissable.

He really needed to stop thinking like that.

They were friends.

But did friends wear cute flower dresses like these? And did friends nervously invited him to sit down at the table and handed him a bottle of Prosecco, murmuring shyly,

“I thought it would be appropriate to have some bubbly for your birthday.”

“Thank you, Elain. You didn’t…” he stopped himself, knowing that she’d just argue with him. “This is perfect.”

She blushed and when he poured a glass for each of them, she lifted and said,

“To you, Az! I hope you have a good birthday,”

“It’s proving to be pretty great already,” he said.

“And I hope that you get what you wish for,” she clinked the glass with his and then gulped down nervously.

He was pretty much already getting many of his wishes come true.

“I made risotto and scallops,” she announced, as she skipped to the stove and he gasped and chided her,

“Elain! Scallops are so expensive!”

“But it’s your birthday. And for your birthday, you deserve to get the best.”

Without thinking he said, “I already have the best.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at him in a way that maybe wasn’t exactly friendly. Like maybe it was something different…

“So.”

Azriel was full. And happy. And pleased. And it was the best birthday of his life.

He ate so much lemon risotto and six very large, succulent scallops, and drank Prosecco and then they split another bottle of wine between the two of them, only to end the feast with a strawberry mascarpone cake, which was out of this world, and was homemade by Elain. She lit birthday candles and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him, while doing an adorable dance, which also looked unbelievably sexy.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” he marvelled.

She bit her lower lip, and said, “It was my pleasure.”

No, it was definitely his pleasure. All of it. If only he could pull that fleshy lower lip of hers into his mouth and kiss her senseless, then his birthday would be complete.

“So?” he wondered what this was about.

Her hands on her small round hips, she looked both fierce and anxious somehow.

“I only have one bed,” she said at last.

His face dropped.

“Oh…Well, that’s okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She frowned at the idea and shook her head,

“I don’t think that’s going to work. You won’t fit.”

“It’s okay. I’ll shimmy.”

She picked at her skirt and then said,

“If you promise to be honourable, you can sleep in my bed.”

He was so taken aback by the offer, that he just stood there and stared at her dumbly.

“Elain, that’s not necessary,” he protested weakly.

Fuck. He wanted to be in her bed. Very much so. Like he never wanted anything more than that.

“Well, I know it’s not, but…it’s okay with me,” she admitted.

“Of course I will be honourable,” he promised immediately.

It will be tough, but he wasn’t going to betray her trust no matter how much he wanted to touch her, and if his mind was currently in the gutter.

“Okay then,” she decided.

…He agonised over what to wear to bed–usually, he just wore his boxers, and sometimes, slept entirely naked, though he didn’t think that this was the time or the place. Should he wear a t-shirt? But that felt weird and dorky, with too much bare leg. Shorts only? Too forward?

He had no idea what the rules were, and finally, while Elain was in the bathroom, he just settled on shorts and that’s it. Most men slept like that? Right?

He was in bed, under the covers, when Elain emerged from the bathroom, and his breaths stalled in his chest when he saw her. Her long hair was loose, and she wore a pink cami and long pyjama pants. 

“Are you still okay with this?” he inquired, just to make sure.

She nodded once and then slid under the blanket next to him.

“Is this strange?” she asked softly.

“Not for me,” he said simply.

“Oh good. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she exhaled a relieved sigh. “When you texted me yesterday,”

Cassian. Cassian texted you. 

“I was worried about where you’d sleep,”

“But you said yes?” he pondered.

When he snuck a look at her, he saw that her cheeks were pink and she whispered,

“Well, yes.”

“So then why would I be uncomfortable?”

…Sometime in the night, Azriel found himself cradling Elain in his arms.

He spooned her, without meaning to, but somehow, in his sleep, he naturally drifted towards her. She was curled in her side, arms tucked into her chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. Her bare feet tangled with his legs, and once he settled in behind her, he didn’t move, burying his face atop of her head, and holding her tightly next to him. 

He lay there for a few peaceful, calm moments, inhaling her scent and enjoying her softness before whispering “I will be gentle with your soul, if you let me in. I promise.”

The next time Azriel woke up was when he sensed light behind his eyelids and a light, tentative scraping of a little finger over his chest, his shoulders. He noticed the silky skin of her leg, which was slotted between his own legs, the toes sort of scratching and playing with his calf. Her finger kept tracing erratic patterns on his skin, and it finally dawned on him that she was following the design of his tattoos. 

“Always wanted to do this,” he heard her whisper.

“What, exactly?” he asked. Feeling bold today, because clearly things have changed since last night, actually, ever since he came here, he added, “Wake up next to me in bed? Have me hold you in my arms through the night? Touch my tats?”

She didn't answer immediately and when he managed to open one eye and peer at her, he saw her gorgeous face and a vexed expression which wrinkled her forehead.

“What?” he pressed, reaching up and cupping her cheek in his palm.

“All of the above?” she said at last, looking up at him.

“Good. I’ve always wanted to do this,” he murmured then, and fuck all doubt and questions swirling in his head, because he was swooping down and pressing his mouth over hers. There was a tiny gasp of surprise and satisfaction when he licked over the puffy lips, learning their texture, before she parted them for him, without him even asking for permission. Offering him entry, she lightly licked on his tongue, as she wrapped her arm around his back and pressed him closer to her chest, the wonderfully ample tits smashing against him, the little nipples poking through her cami.

Azriel kissed her. And kissed her. Slow and sensual. Forceful and dominant. Gentle and exploring. Filthy and sexual. Every kiss in one kiss. And she happily, eagerly responded to every variation, often taking control and kissing him in her own manner. 

The need for oxygen finally forced them apart, but only barely. He still placed slow, sensual kisses over her lips, her face, her ears, her hair. 

“May I take you on a proper date?” he asked at last.

She giggled joyfully and tucked her face into his neck, vibrating with excitement next to him.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

“Better late than never,” he said sheepishly and kissed her again.

Azriel’s phone dinged with an incoming message.

The flight attendant announced on the intercom that they should be turning things off right about now, but he glanced at the message.

Elain: When you come visit in two weeks, I’ll have a place for you to sleep.

There was an image attached.

Her neat sofa in the living room, extended into a perfectly nice, large sofa bed.

He stared at the photo and then grinned.

Azriel: You are a bad, bad girl.

Elain: Some men need a little push in the right direction.

Azriel: Some men do. But too late

Elain: For what?

Azriel: From now on, I’ll be sleeping in your bed.

Elain: Please do.

[sassymajesty]

https://open.spotify.com/track/0Z7nGFVCLfixWctgePsRk9?si=7pkeuPkrTN2k9ZHTKc4sNQ

Hear me out- southern AU clexa at a family barbecue

texas hold 'em (youtube)

i'll be honest, i've been obsessed with this song ever since it came out and since i saw your message, i haven't stopped thinking about southern au because listen (spoilers ahead)

in a not-as-distant-as-you'd-think future, when costia has found the love of her life (it sure wasn't lexa, even if she thinks so right now) and they have twin baby boys who love their godmothers more than anything in the world and squeal and waddle over to them whenever they hear lexa's old truck coming down the road. that family barbecue?

the boys are fast asleep, they've lit the fire pit, costia is cozy in her wife's arms, and clarke and lexa are staying the night because they're three sheets to the wind. then costia sees her opportunity and seizes it with both hands — why hasn't lexa taught clarke to line dance yet?

"yeah, why haven't you?" clarke turns to her then wife, words tasting like the spiced bourbon with red wine cocktail costia had kept pouring in her never-empty glass.

because lexa learned how to line dance with costia, way back in high school, when they were trying to impress each other and take their time with their love. and lexa is just the right kind of drunk that she gets up, grips the waist of her jeans like there's a big buckle there, and walks clarke through the steps with that song in the background

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

17 and 29 for the fanfic writer ask 💖

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Well, quite a few things actually. I research a lot of expensive booze because I have some wealthy fuckers I write quite a bit, but also in the process, I've learned how cognac is brewed and the difference between cognac and brandy (similar reason to champagne and sparkling wine), the differences between whiskey, scotch, and bourbon, and pairings of vodka with caviar (and the differences between types of caviar).

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

From the aforementioned "All American Barbecue" (where AvX meets the Wicker Man), and a little warning, it's a bit long:

Tony reached over into the stack of mail that Clint had brought in about an hour earlier and rummaged around until he found one in particular.  “Speaking of the X-Men, this came addressed to you.  Don’t know who sent it...just that it’s from Utopia.”  He shook it as if he could hear something rattling, which he couldn’t, then he handed it up into Steve’s waiting hand. 

“Doesn’t look official,” Steve commented, glad that he could focus on something other than his goofy singing that was still playing on the laptop and the big screen.  He tore open the envelope and tugged out a letter that had been typed, and inside it was a picture of a redhead in her mid-to-late teens. 

“It’s not even in e-mail.  Who the hell sends letters like that anymore?” Tony groused, his nose wrinkled over his goatee, which he scratched three fingers through before flopping back against the couch.  “Even Erik’s gotten with the technological age...and he’s in your geriatric group.” 

Steve arched a perfect blond eyebrow at his teammate and responded to the jab with only a sneer.  Then he dropped his eyes to the letter. 

Captain Rogers,

Things are so different here on Utopia than they were in Westchester, and I’m not entirely sure where to begin in telling you about my concerns.  The worst of which involves the young woman in the photo I’ve sent with this letter.  You see, this girl, Hope, has gone missing.  No one has seen her in weeks, and she’s not quite old enough to leave the island by herself, even though everyone knows she’s been receiving piloting lessons since she became of age.  None of the island’s jets have left, however.  All are accounted for.  Everything is accounted for, actually, except the girl herself. 

This is most distressing, Captain Rogers.  Hope is a sweet girl and very responsible.  She wouldn’t have just up and disappeared on her own, so I suspect that something has gone terribly wrong.  I hope you can and are willing to come here to get to the bottom of this yourself.  I hesitate to say that this is so extreme that it requires the whole of the Avengers, but you are a respected figure here, and at the very least, if you were to show up yourself, I have no doubt that this matter would be straightened out right away. 

Sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen of Utopia

“So what do the good citizens of mutant-world want, Steve?  Don’t tell me.  Logan’s hosting a bake-sale and wants you to put in an appearance so he can jack up the prices of his beer-cakes,” Tony quipped.  Already, he’d moved on from watching Steve humiliate himself in the elevator to searching the internet for a donut shop that would deliver. 

Steve snorted.  “No.  Nothing so amusing this time.  It seems as if the mutants are having trouble policing their...well, trouble.  I didn’t think they could make things work on that island without problems. Then again, look at them.  They’re hedonistic...so many of them always were, but since they’ve stopped pretending to live in normal society, they’ve just gotten worse.” 

Tony looked up at Steve with a ‘what the fuck’ look stamped on his features.  He squirmed on the couch until his ass was firmly in a ‘ready to listen to Steve go on a tirade�� position.  He typed something on his laptop and just waited.  And waited.  And when he glanced up at Steve again, he could see the Boy Scout’s nostrils flaring as if he already pictured some grave injustice being done on that island across country.  Other than the mutants who still made their home in the city or wherever they did, most of them were well-out of the way and not worth worrying about.  Even Erik wasn’t causing problems anymore.  Why was Steve so bothered? 

Because he was Steve. 

“So, I take it you’re going out there to check it out?  Need back-up?” Tony asked.  His tone said he didn’t want to go.  “I mean, after all, you’re not exactly used to such rampant hedonism.”  Tony rolled his eyes.  He was more hedonistic than most of the mutants on Utopia combined – save one or two, but Steve had become so accustomed to his antics that he’d reduced his comments about Tony’s lifestyle down to dirty looks or grunts of annoyance. 

“The person who wrote didn’t think it was a big enough deal yet to involve all of the Avengers, so I’ll probably go by myself,” Steve replied and scanned over the letter again before folding it up and returning it to the envelope. 

Tony scoffed.  “You?  Alone on Utopia?  Where all that...mutant debauchery goes on?  I just can’t picture it.” 

Steve rolled his eyes.  Again.  It made him more determined to prove to his teammate that taking a trip out to Utopia by himself wouldn’t be a problem.  “Are you volunteering to go, Tony?”

“No.  Not really.  As much as I would love to see my old girlfriend...”

“Which one?” Steve snarked.

Tony just kept talking.  “...I don’t think that would yield the results I’d want, especially since she’s ‘happily’ involved with Summers.”  It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

Steve walked around the back of the couch to go to his bedroom to change.  “Alright then.  I’m heading out in an hour, and I’ll see you when I get back.” 

Watching Steve’s back become more distant in the hall, Tony called out, “What?  Don’t I even get a kiss goodbye?” 

Thanks for the asks!

Fanfic Ask Meme.

[bourbontrend]

` Grill masters and bourbon lovers, unite! Discover why Four Roses Small Batch Bourbon is the perfect partner for your barbecue. From smoky to spicy to sweet, this bourbon has it all. Elevate your summer BBQ experience today with expert tips and flavor pairings. Cheers to great food and even better drinks!

[rhythm-catsandwine]

Bonfire

They sat around a fire, under a blanket of stars, and surrounded by trees. Adam siped blood from a glass meant for wine while the others ate meat. 

“So what does that stuff even taste like?” Danny asked Adam.

“It depends on the type, where it’s coming from, and its mood. It’s like fine wine. You can have the same type of grapes growing in different places. One in a dry environment and one where it rains every day. Justin tastes like those chocolate truffles with bourbon in them, and they’re actually alcoholic. When he's uh excited,” He stopped talking to process what he had just said. “Fuck!” He cursed as a certain werewolf's tale slapped him in the face. “Yeah, I deserved that.” 

Danny laughed, and Maynard smirked across the colorful flames as Justin sat back down in partial human wolf form. His pointed canine ears flattened, and his fluffy tail sunk low. 

“Wot do I normally taste like?” Justin asked as he somewhat reluctantly snuggled back into Adam’s side. 

“Remember the place we took you for barbecue in KC and it was your first time eating real Americal Barbique? It tastes like the burnt ends from there.”

“What do we taste like?” Maynard wandered.

“You taste like whatever wine you’re working on,” Adam pointed to his short friend. “And you taste like whatever place in KC you ate at last.”

Fluffy October or Ao3

[luciosfanpage]

"The Undefeated Barbecue King Lucio and his court magicians, rescuing a bourbon beef from thieving land sharks!"

—Lucio Morgasson