#crispy chicken is the best chicken

[anarzaabloodladen]

Hello friend! :>

Best kind of chicken?

KFC drumsticks for the win they just hit different

[dinosaurwithablog]

I made a white pizza. It doesn't look white now because I cooked it, but the ingredients were white at the start. I made homemade dough and homemade Alfredo sauce using fresh Italian cheeses. I used parmesan reggiano, pecorino romano, asiago, and caccicavallo besides the butter and cream. It's decadent. It's so rich and creamy, and it's so easy to make. Just melt 1 stick of butter in a pan on medium heat, add a pint of cream, and stir until blended. Then you add 1 cup, 8 oz., of finely grated parmesan cheese. You can use different cheeses like I did. Adding the cheese slowly while constantly mixing will give you a delightful, creamy, smooth sauce. If you get lumps, you can always strain them out. I placed roasted garlic on the crust and then spread Alfredo sauce on that. Then I topped the pizza with all the 4 cheeses that I used to make the Alfredo sauce. I then added roasted chicken, sautéed mushrooms, and thinly sliced onions. I sprinkled basil and oregano on top of that. It tasted fantastic 😋 sooooooo much cheese. I love cheese, if you couldn't tell. 😁 The onions added a fresh, lighter, brighter element to the pizza and cut through some of the richness. Fresh basil would, also, cut through the richness, but I didn't have any so I used dry basil. The crust was light and crispy. Perfecto. I'm gonna make this again for sure. Tomorrow, I'm gonna make fettuccine Alfredo with the remaining sauce. I think that I'll add some chicken and broccoli to it. That sounds delicious. I can't wait. In the words of Julia Child, bon appétit 🤌😋😍 I think that I'm gonna have another slice 😋 mmmmmmmmmmmm 😊

[lunar-wandering]

Literally so tired of every dinner of the past 3 nights getting ruined by everyone else's horrible food tastes

[7-ratsinatrenchcoat]

if you have never torn open a rotisserie chicken with nothing but your bare hands and carnal urge to get into a fight I highly reccomend it

[cinematicnomad]

protip: if you ever find yourself at a taipei night market, try the crispy squid with seaweed seasoning 🦑

[catmemey]

baked potatoes my beloved. why have I not known you until now

[atthebell-moved]

ive been a vegetarian for 7 years and just had a spiritual experience in the consumption of wendy's chicken nuggets

that's so real man imo Wendys nuggets are the #1 fast food nugget

[chickenor]

Explore Louisiana Fried Chicken Menu: Ultimate Flavors You Crave

Introduction Louisiana Fried Chicken Menu is more than just responsible for a meal but it is responsibility for a flavorful food flavor of your need and more. In fact in terms of flavors there is something in that menu that delectable for those craving for crispy, spicy, and anything that is savory. In this article, we will find out the most popular dishes offered by the Louisiana Fried Chicken…

[rabbitcruiser]

World Food Day

Join a World Food Day event like a contest, tasting, or cultural showcase, or donate your time or money to food charities that provide food to those in need.

Food brings people together in a huge variety of ways, from family gatherings to first dates. Everyone has a favorite food, with varieties ranging from pizza to pasta, cookies to cakes, and all of the good stuff in between! So many amazing dishes and ingredients are available to indulge in today, and World Food Day celebrates them all.

Learn About World Food Day

World Food Day is not only about celebrating the amazing food that people have the privilege of indulging in, but it is about raising awareness for people who do not have such privilege. People all over the world who suffer from hunger. Starvation is a massive problem in a number of countries, and we need to do more to raise awareness and combat this problem.

World Food Day can also be leveraged to raise awareness about healthy diets and what bodies need. In recent times, education has grown about healthy diets and which foods are healthy or unhealthy, but we are not there yet! World Food Day offers a great opportunity to further education and awareness in this area.

History of World Food Day

World Food Day was established in 1945 by the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), a specialized agency of the United Nations. But it would be another 34 years before it was recognized as a world holiday at the 20th FAO conference in November 1979. Following this, 150 countries proceeded to celebrate the day once it gained its official recognition by the United Nations. Since 2014, the popularity of the day has been used to promote the idea of feeding the world and eliminating poverty in rural nations.

The main principle World Food Day celebrates is the furtherance of food security all over the globe, especially in times of crisis. The launch of the Food and Agriculture Organization by the UN has played a huge role in taking this worthy goal forward. Its annual celebration serves as a marker of the importance of this organization and helps to raise awareness of the crucial need for successful agriculture policies to be implemented by governments across the world to ensure there is ample food available for everyone.

In recent years, World Food Day has used its annual day of celebration to focus on different aspects of food security and agriculture, including fishing communities, climate change and biodiversity.

A number of different themes have been attributed to World Food Day over the years. Some past themes have included: Climate is changing. Food and agriculture must too; Social Protection and Agriculture: Breaking the Cycle of Rural Poverty and Feeding the world, caring for the earth.

Many different organizations around the world now celebrate this day, including the International Fund for Agricultural Development and the World Food Programme. Many businesses also take part.

World Food Day is a reminder that coming together with friends and family around a well-set table is a privilege that not everyone can enjoy, but is one that everyone should experience.

How to Celebrate World Food Day

A number of opportunities exist to get involved with World Food Day! Celebrate the day with some of these ideas:

Make a Donation to a Food Bank or Charity

One of the best ways to celebrate World Food Day is by giving food to people who need it the most. If you do a quick search online, you should be able to find the nearest food bank to you. Most food banks are happy to accept food or money. The sort of food that is in a typical food parcel includes cookies, canned fruit, tea, coffee, canned vegetables, canned meat, beans, pasta sauce, rice, pasta, soup, and cereal.

World Food Day is also a great time to donate to a charity. You could also opt to do some fundraising as well. There are many different ways you can go about this, from fundraising events to sponsored activities. If you are able to raise awareness and some money in the process, it’s a great thing!

Visit a Farm or Food Producer

World Food Day might be a great time to understand where food comes from by visiting a local farm or dairy, or even visiting an open kitchen restaurant to see the time and effort that goes into creating such delicious food.

Attend a World Food Day Event

A number of different events take place on World Food Day, so it is worth looking into these to see if there is anything going on in your local area. This includes everything from concerts and contests to cultural performances, exhibitions, hunger marches, and marathons. And if there isn���t anything going on in the local area, why not be the person to host the event?

Learn More About Countries Around the World

Countries all around the world need help because they are battling starvation,such as Kenya. In countries like Kenya, the price of basic foods has skyrocketed, which has resulted in a large number of children going hungry. A lot of different charities work hard to change the lives of families and children who need it the most, ensuring they have the food they need to survive.

It is worth spending some time researching the different ways that countries all around the world honor World Food Day. More than 150 countries participate in this day, and there are conferences and different events that happen all around the world.

For example, in the United States, the Iowa Hunger Summit has been held on World Food Day, or near to the date, since 2007. In Cuba, the media strongly supports awareness on various campaigns relating to World Food Day, and an agricultural fair is held so that producers can exchange their experiences and views.

In Mongolia, they have made it tradition to organize the Food Security conference on World Food Day. This event is about promoting research to develop regulations and policies, as well as valuing the contributions of researchers and scholars to the country’s food security. In Cyprus, special ceremonies are organized in secondary and primary schools where teachers teach their students about World Food Day. In Italy, many exhibitions and conferences are held by NGOs, international agencies, research agencies, universities, and ministries.

A lot of countries also use this day to support the people in their society who need it the most. For example, in the Philippines, a lot of the work is focused on increasing food gifts to poor urban families. The same has occurred in Pakistan whereby they provide food packages to the poor on this date.

Source

[keventeragro]

Instant Chicken Nuggets for Your Night Party | Non Veg Snacks | Keventer

Pair your movie nights with delicious and juicy Keventer Chicken Nuggets. Get them from shopkeventer.com or your nearest store, now!

Read More - https://www.keventer.com/media/blog/binge-with-chicken-nuggets/

[foods-novel]

Fried Chicken Popcorn

Try this amazing Chicken popcorn at home and Enjoy your evening !!!

[scrawlingwithstyle]

I had Popeyes chicken for the first time ever today & it's SO FUCKING GOOD. I don't like KFC. but some crispy Popeyes chicken tenders with blackened ranch?? Hell. Yes.

New favorite chicken place.

[daily-deliciousness]

The best crispy baked chicken goujons

[asdfghjklmals]

CRAVINGS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of sex and suggestiveness at the end. WORD COUNT: 2.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend’s pregnancy cravings keep her up at night and she ends up waking up satoru because of it. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this all started because i was craving fried chicken. i love writing for pregnant oc gojo girlfriend. she is just so funny. 🤭 consider this my late happy birthday fic for satoru. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

toss. turn. toss. turn.

you felt satoru’s arm twitch as you kept tossing and turning in his embrace. the half-asleep sorcerer opened his eyes as they adjusted to the dark to look at you.

“you okay?” he asked as he murmured into the crevice of your neck.

he brought your body closer to his chest, stroking your cheek gently. you sighed, embarrassed to tell him what was running through your mind. your emotions have been all over the place during your pregnancy, so you were feeling vulnerable. pregnancy hormones were no joke.

you pouted your lips at him, “if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“why would i laugh at you?” satoru scoffed in disbelief. he reassured your feelings like he always did, “i know it’s been getting harder for you to sleep since baby gojo is growing so big and strong in your belly… so, tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.”

you pursed your lips and hesitated before leaning towards satoru’s ear to whisper to him. this was normal… right?

“satoru, baby gojo is violently craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

and you had to have it now.

satoru laid back down on his back and dropped his head on his pillow, he turned his head to stare back at you. he then glanced at his phone on the glass nightstand beside him, checking the time. all he knew was that it was an ungodly hour of the night.

3:42 am.

“right now?” he asked, “like… baby gojo doesn’t want it for breakfast instead?”

you frowned at your baby daddy and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“yes, right now. for like… a midnight snack.” you replied with a twinge of guilt, “—but it’s okay, babe. i can make it myself. i know you have work in the morning.”

you turned away from satoru so you could roll over on your side of the bed to attempt to sit up. you could feel baby gojo kicking your side, happy that you were moving around at this time of night. your baby had always been extremely active while you were supposed to be sleeping.

“no, babe—” satoru interrupted you as he grabbed your arm, “i’ll get you—i mean—baby gojo a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and caressed his cheek, giving him an appreciative kiss.

satoru gojo would do anything for you, even if that meant he had to get out of bed at 3:42am to make his pregnant girlfriend a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he had to wake up for work at six in the morning.

satoru took a deep breath and swung his long legs out of the warm and comfortable duvet. he rubbed his face with the palm of his hands before hopping out of the bed and into the kitchen.

even though you really wanted that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you did feel bad that you woke satoru up on a work night. ever since shoko told him that all your cravings needed to be satisfied since that’s what his baby wanted to eat, he was always at your beck and call.

this wasn’t the first time the white haired sorcerer had to fulfill a ridiculous craving of yours. you’ve asked for extra crispy fried chicken in the middle of the night, finished large tubs of lactose-free ice cream, and would make the world’s spiciest noodles even though your heartburn was amplified tenfold during this pregnancy. you told satoru that you were going to eat whatever you wanted if you were gonna be having his baby.

you got up slowly from the bed, feeling your baby shift in your belly. small kicks attacked your left side as you laughed at your active baby. you opened the door of your bedroom to peek into the kitchen.

satoru was standing in front of the fancy digital toaster that megumi had bought him (with your credit card) for father’s day this year. satoru loved high tech gadgets, and knowing him, he always had to have the best in everything… even toasters.

you watched as your sleepy and shirtless boyfriend popped two pieces of whole grain bread into the toaster, grabbing the smooth peanut butter from the pantry and the sweet strawberry jelly from the fridge. your household had two types of peanut butter on hand at all times, one smooth and one chunky. satoru and megumi liked the chunky while you and tsumiki preferred the smooth.

you wrapped yourself in your robe and stepped out into the kitchen. you walked over to satoru, who’s cheek was resting in the palm of his hand, his elbow supporting him on the kitchen counter. he was waiting for your bread to finish toasting.

you snaked your arms around his bare chest, your belly preventing you from hugging him as tightly as you actually wanted to. you rested your cheek on his back.

“what are you doing out here, sweetheart?” satoru asked softly as he peeked behind his shoulder, “i was going to bring the sandwich to you.”

“i don’t want crumbs in our bed.” you replied innocently, “—and i just wanted to watch you.”

satoru turned to you and grinned, “a little creepy, but i like that.”

you glared at him playfully as he snuck a kiss on your cheek. you clung to his side as you watched him spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the perfectly toasted bread. he cut the sandwich into triangles, just how you liked it.

you sat across the kitchen island in the barstool, admiring your boyfriend’s shirtless figure. you laughed knowing that satoru would definitely be considered a ‘dilf’ once your baby was born.

he slid the plate to you and watched as your eyes lit up. he could practically see the stars dancing in your eyes. you were drooling over the sandwich that you were craving so violently just a moment ago.

you took a bite as the peanut butter, jelly, and toasted bread married flavors into your mouth. you swore you haven’t had such a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich before this moment.

“is it that good?” satoru chuckled. he was honestly curious. you could be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich spokesperson with the way you were eating that sandwich.

you licked your lips and your strawberry jellied fingers, replying with a mouth full of sandwich, “yes, thank you. baby gojo is so happy, babe. they’re doing somersaults in my stomach right now.”

satoru laughed at your ridiculous reply before swiping crumbs off your bottom lip with his thumb. he turned around to grab an empty glass cup from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water. he slid the glass over to you.

“thank you.” you said with a smile before downing the glass of water.

satoru had always been an attentive boyfriend, but ever since he found out you were pregnant, he did all he could to be there for you in any way, shape, or form. he was present and involved, you couldn’t ask for a better partner. you couldn’t wait to see him be a father to your baby.

satoru patiently watched as you finished your last bite of your sandwich. you pushed yourself off of the barstool and took your plate to the sink, washing away the crumbs from your hands and plate.

he leaned against the kitchen counter, satisfied with himself, arms folded, “anything else before we head back to bed, sweetheart?”

with no hesitation, you blurted out, “baby gojo wants a hot chocolate.”

satoru blinked twice. at this moment, his baby was craving the most random things. he couldn’t even believe it. this was worse than when he went to buy you fried chicken in the middle of the night. you made sure you put the emphasis on ‘extra crispy’ and if it wasn't extra crispy, he couldn't come home.

“really, babe?” he asked, “you really want a hot chocolate? when was the last time you drank hot chocolate?”

you gave him the puppy dog eyes again, “it’s not me. it’s the baby—can you use the lactose-free milk?”

he stood in front of you and bent down to eye-level with your belly and pointed at your belly button.

“you—baby gojo—are asking for a lot in the middle of the night.” he said to your belly, “it’s a good thing i’m insanely in love with your mommy.”

you felt two kicks from baby gojo. you smiled at the sight of satoru talking to your stomach. he loved to speak to baby gojo as if they were already born. you were certain that your baby recognized yours and satoru’s voices because baby gojo would kick, twist, turn and throw punches when they heard satoru’s voice after he would come home from work or when he would stop by your office to escape his students. your baby loved his voice just as much as you did.

you sat back down in the barstool and watched satoru grab a mug from your mug collection. he recently added a pregnancy mug that he was very proud of.

“this is probably the most accurate mug you’ve bought yet.” you giggled. in a bright sparkly pink font, this one read ‘beware, due to the influence of pregnancy hormones, i could burst into tears or kill you in the next two minutes’.

“sometimes, i worry about you,” satoru teased as he poured your lactose-free milk into the mug and stirred a hot chocolate packet into it. “one minute you’re climbing me like a tree and the next you don’t want me to touch you. is that also because of your pregnancy hormones?”

you laughed shamelessly, “yes, sorry, the libido is off the charts some days.”

the white-haired sorcerer thanked god every day for your increased sex drive during your pregnancy. nowadays you were the one who initiated intimacy… and satoru gojo was not going to complain about that.

satoru put the mug of hot chocolate into the microwave to warm it up for you. he turned to face you as you both waited for the microwave to beep.

once the hot chocolate was done being warmed up, he guided you to the living room with the mug in his hand. satoru sat down on the plush white couch and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit with him.

you obliged and made yourself comfortable. he grabbed your legs to put on top of his and handed you your hot chocolate. he draped a blanket on top of your laps. he placed his hand on your thigh and admired the pregnancy glow on your face in the warm and dim living room lights.

a sweet cup of hot chocolate, a handsome man cuddling you, a comfortable couch and warm blanket? what more could you ask for? you enjoyed any quality time with satoru as you got older and busier. quality time was something you’d keep near and dear to your heart, especially knowing that you weren’t going to be alone with him anymore in a short couple of months. baby gojo was going to be joining the circus soon.

“you know what i just realized?” satoru said out of nowhere as you blew on your hot chocolate.

you looked over at him, cocking your head to the side, “what?”

“we didn’t read week 22.” satoru stated. he was always on top of reading the ‘what to expect’ app with you. you watched as he stood up from the couch to quickly grab your phone from the bedroom nightstand for you.

once he returned to the living room, he made himself comfortable next to you again and swiped open your phone to find the app that you used to track baby gojo’s development.

“baby gojo is as big as a papaya.” satoru read, “baby gojo hit a huge milestone and is weighing at a whopping 1 lbs and is measuring 11 inches in length.”

“that’s our big and strong baby.” you cooed, caressing your belly with your free-hand, taking another sip of your hot chocolate.

“baby gojo’s grip, vision, and hearing are all getting stronger now! you might notice a protruding navel—” satoru lifted the blanket to check your belly button. you laughed to find a non-protruding one at the moment.

“—and possibly even bigger feet.” he finished reading. he peeked over to look at your feet.

“they’re just a little swollen.” you frowned.

“at a glance, even though baby gojo’s eyes are sealed shut, they can perceive light and dark now. shine a flashlight on your tummy and see if your little one moves—oh, babe, we have to try that out.”

you watched as satoru got up from the couch again to dig in the kitchen junk drawer for a flashlight.

“you need to clean out that drawer.” you nagged.

satoru brushed off your comment as he returned to your side, “yeah, yeah. i’ll do it later.”

he turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly on your belly. you immediately felt baby gojo move away from the light, surprising you and making you laugh out loud.

“did you feel anything?” satoru asked curiously. unfortunately, he still hasn't been able to feel baby gojo kick yet, you had hoped that he would be able to soon. only you were able to feel movement at the moment.

you nodded with a toothy smily, “yes. seems like our little one doesn’t like the flashlight.”

satoru grinned back at you. he sat back down and continued to read enthusiastically, “baby gojo is starting to hear and process sounds from inside your body so watch what you say… and baby's nervous system is sharpening the five senses, which means little fingers are learning to grab those tiny ears, nose and umbilical cord.”

you watched satoru’s slender fingers scroll slowly through the app. you gasped. your eyes started to well up with tears. you seemed to cry more easily now with the pregnancy hormones.

“satoru… it says my feet might not go back to normal after pregnancy.”

satoru knew exactly what question you'd ask. 'satoru would you still love me if my feet don't go back to normal after i give birth?'

“babe, it’s okay.” satoru wiped your crocodile tears as he comforted you, "and don't worry, i'll still love you."

“—what if i can't fit my shoes anymore?” you continued to frown, taking a sad sip of your hot chocolate.

satoru stroked your head before placing a kiss on your temple. leave it to you for the theatrics, you were his precious drama queen.

“sweetheart, if your feet don’t go back to normal, i’ll buy you every single pair of shoes you own in a new size.”

and satoru gojo could definitely afford to do just that.

you continued to pout as satoru continued to read the app.

“it says you might start experiencing braxton hicks. they’re like practice contractions.” he hummed, “and the app advises to take more magnesium and to work out… and that’s all for this week.”

you nodded, “i’ll call my doctor and ask about the magnesium. that should help with my leg cramps—and about the working out…”

“—we’ve been working out.” satoru commented slyly.

you glanced at him and sipped at your hot chocolate. even though satoru was keeping you company on the couch, he was probably exhausted. you thought that maybe he could call out of work tomorrow… guilty thoughts of keeping him awake filled your head.

“okay, baby gojo—” satoru leaned over to ask your belly, “is that all you’re craving for? last call in the kitchen. daddy wants to go back to sleep now.”

“yes,” you hummed, “—but mommy is craving for something now too.”

satoru squinted at you and booped your nose playfully, “mommy and baby gojo are the same at the moment. if you’re craving it, i’m sure the baby is too.”

“no, this one has nothing to do with the baby, satoru.” you told him confidently, hoping he’d understand.

he cocked his head to the side, wondering what else you could possibly be craving for at this time of night.

“what is it?”

you looked up at satoru with needy eyes before mumbling, “i want you.”

satoru stared at you for a couple seconds before he registered at what you were hinting at.

“oh. ohhhhhhh—i see where you’re going with this—” he grinned before replying to your sly innuendo of a request, “—well, how can i say no to that?”

you laughed out loud as satoru sat up quickly from the couch, taking you by the hand to lead you back to the master bedroom. you sat down on the edge of your bed, satoru towering over you to lean towards your ear.

he whispered, “you have some interesting pregnancy cravings, babe.”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[redvdress]

Soooo, could i request Hawks x reader fluffy stuff? I'll let you pick a scenario <3

SLEEP TALKS

A/N: hii anon how are you? thanks for sending a request!! soo here’s keigo talking to reader in his sleep, i hope y’all enjoy it!!

The night was peaceful, the kind of stillness that seemed to settle over everything like a blanket. The air was cool, the sound of rain falling softly against the window panes filling the room with a gentle, rhythmic hum. You lay quietly beside Hawks, the man whose very name conjured images of speed, precision, and grace.

But here, in the quiet of your shared space, he was simply Keigo, the man you loved.

His arm was draped protectively around your waist, his wings spread wide over the bed like a sheltering canopy, shielding you from the world.

His presence was a comfort, warm and solid beside you. His breathing was slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest a gentle rhythm that matched the soothing patter of the rain. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the moment, feeling the soft warmth of his body next to yours, the feathery touch of his wings brushing your skin. It was in these quiet moments that you cherished him most—away from the prying eyes of the public, away from the expectations of the world.

Here, he was just Keigo, your Keigo.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the rain, each drop tapping lightly against the window as though nature itself had conspired to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You were just on the verge of drifting off when you heard it—a soft, barely audible murmur from the man beside you.

At first, you thought it was nothing, just the wind or the rain playing tricks on your sleepy mind. But then you heard it again—a low, groggy voice coming from Keigo’s lips, muffled slightly as he shifted beside you. You blinked, slowly stirring awake, and turned your head to look at him.

“…No… not the fried chicken…”

The words were so quiet, you almost didn’t catch them, but once you did, a small, incredulous smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Was he… dreaming about food?

Keigo’s face, usually so calm and confident even in the most dangerous situations, was now scrunched up in a slight frown, his eyebrows furrowed as though he was in the midst of a particularly intense negotiation.

“…Told them… crispy… gotta be crispy…”

You stifled a laugh, your shoulders shaking with amusement as you watched him. Even in his sleep, he couldn’t resist his love for food, particularly fried chicken. You’d heard him joke about it countless times during your late-night conversations—how he was always starving after missions, how he’d go on for days about the best places to get fried chicken, and how particular he was about it being crispy.

The sight of him now, talking about it in his sleep, was both adorable and hilarious. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could get a better look at him. His hair, a tousled mess of golden strands, fell across his forehead, framing his face in a way that made him look even more boyish than usual. The same face that could be so serious when he was out in the field, his amber eyes sharp and calculating as he flew at breakneck speeds, was now relaxed—aside from that little frown of concentration as he dreamt.

You couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the soft stubble that had grown in over the day. He stirred slightly, his grip on your waist tightening as he mumbled again, his voice dropping into a more petulant tone.

“…Endeavor… leave the wings alone… too delicate…”

This time, you couldn’t hold back the giggle that bubbled up from your chest. The thought of the stoic, gruff Endeavor messing with Keigo’s wings in his dream was just too much. You imagined the scene playing out in his head—Endeavor reaching out to touch one of the golden feathers, Keigo swatting his hand away like an annoyed cat.

Keigo’s wings were a point of pride for him, a part of him that was both weapon and shield, a symbol of his power and agility. But you also knew how sensitive they were, how much care they required. He would spend hours preening them after a particularly rough mission, carefully smoothing each feather back into place with meticulous precision. He had once confided in you how much they meant to him, how they weren’t just tools for his hero work but a part of who he was.

And yet, here he was, whining about Endeavor in his sleep.

You shook your head, your heart swelling with affection as you continued to watch him. He looked so peaceful now, even with his silly dream playing out behind closed eyes. His brow had smoothed out, his face relaxed once more as he settled deeper into the pillows. His wings, which had fluttered slightly as he mumbled, were now still, the soft rustle of feathers quieting as he drifted further into sleep.

But then, his voice softened, and you heard something that made your heart skip a beat.

“…y/n…tell Endeavor to stop…you love my wings”

The words were whispered, barely audible, but you heard them clear as day. Your name—or at least, the sentiment behind it—was laced into his sleepy ramblings, a possessiveness that was both tender and fierce. Even in his dreams, he was thinking about you, protecting you.

A warmth spread through your chest, a mix of love and something deeper, something more primal. Keigo had always been fiercely protective of you, even though he knew you could handle yourself.

He’d tease you about it sometimes, saying it was part of his nature—like a hawk guarding its nest. But in moments like this, when his guard was down, you realized just how deeply that protectiveness ran.

You leaned in closer, your fingers brushing through the soft strands of his hair as you pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. He stirred slightly at the contact, his arm tightening around your waist as if to pull you closer, even in his sleep.

“…Stay…” he mumbled again, his voice soft and pleading. “…with me…”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his voice. You knew he didn’t say things like that often—Keigo wasn’t one for grand displays of emotion. He showed his affection through actions, through the way he held you close at night, or the way he’d make sure to check in on you after a mission. But here, in the quiet of the night, with the rain softly tapping at the window and his wings cocooning you both in a protective embrace, his words were all the more precious.

“I’m not going anywhere” you whispered softly, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you.

He settled again, his breathing evening out as he drifted deeper into sleep. His wings, so vast and powerful when spread wide, were now curled protectively around you, the soft feathers brushing your skin in a way that made you feel safe, cherished. You nestled closer into his side, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

The warmth of his body, the sound of the rain, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a sense of deep peace. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had Keigo by your side, you’d face them together.

You reached up again, gently stroking the soft feathers of his wings. They were beautiful, each one a perfect shade of red that caught the light just right during the day, but now they seemed almost ethereal in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. You were always careful when you touched them—knowing how sensitive they were—but Keigo never minded when it was you.

He trusted you with them, just as he trusted you with his heart.

“…Love you…” he mumbled again, his voice barely audible now, as he drifted further into the depths of sleep.

Your smile grew, your heart fluttering in your chest. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, the affection you felt for him almost overwhelming in that moment. “I love you too, silly bird,” you whispered against his skin, your voice full of tenderness.

Keigo shifted slightly, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he relaxed once more, his wings tightening just a little around you as if he were pulling you closer in his sleep. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the sound calming and familiar.

Despite the chaos that often surrounded your lives—the missions, the danger, the weight of responsibility—moments like this reminded you of what truly mattered. It wasn’t the titles, or the fame, or the battles fought and won. It was the quiet moments in between, the stolen glances, the whispered words of love in the dead of night, the way Keigo held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

And as you drifted back to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his wings and the sound of the rain, you knew that no matter what came next, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft golden beams, casting a gentle glow across the room. You blinked awake slowly, feeling the warmth of Keigo’s body still pressed against yours. His wings were no longer spread as protectively over the bed, instead tucked neatly behind him as he lay on his side, facing you. His arm, however, was still draped lazily across your waist, his hand resting on the curve of your hip as though he never wanted to let you go, even in sleep.

You smiled, watching the way the early light caught in his golden hair, making it shimmer like molten sunlight. His face, relaxed and peaceful, made him look younger—far removed from the confident, sometimes cocky hero the world knew him as. Here, in the quiet intimacy of your shared space, he was simply the man who loved fried chicken.

The man who dreamt about it, apparently.

The memory of his mumbled words from the night before came rushing back to you, and you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

Crispy fried chicken? Really, Keigo?

You knew he had a sense of humor and that he often made light of things, but it was still endlessly amusing that of all the things to come out of his mouth in his sleep, that had been one of them.

You could still hear the playful, groggy tone of his voice, the way he’d insisted to some imaginary figure in his dream about how he liked his food. And then there was the part about Endeavor. You had no idea what kind of dream had led him to grumble about Endeavor touching his wings, but the thought of it had you shaking with silent laughter all over again.

As you lay there, a mischievous idea began to form in your mind. You couldn’t just let this slide.

He was always teasing you, always playfully making fun of your little habits and quirks. Now, it was your turn.

Shifting gently so as not to wake him, you slowly slid out from under his arm, careful not to disturb his wings. He stirred a little but didn’t wake, letting out a soft sigh as he burrowed deeper into the pillows. You padded quietly over to the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee, the rich aroma quickly filling the air. As the coffee dripped, you busied yourself preparing breakfast—eggs, toast, and, of course, fried chicken. You couldn’t resist.

The thought of serving him his dream breakfast was just too perfect.

Once the food was ready, you placed everything carefully on a tray—two plates of eggs, toast, and a pile of crispy fried chicken—and carried it back to the bedroom. Keigo was still asleep, his breathing steady, his face peaceful. Setting the tray on the bedside table, you crawled back onto the bed, your fingers brushing through his tousled hair as you leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“Morning, sleepy bird,” you whispered softly, your lips brushing against his temple.

He stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he slowly came to. His amber eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open, and a small, lazy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw you.

“Mmm… morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

His hand instinctively reached out for you, pulling you closer as he nuzzled into your neck. “What time is it?”

“Time for breakfast,” you replied, unable to keep the grin off your face as you gently pulled back to look at him.

He blinked, still half-asleep, before his nose twitched. “What’s that smell?” His eyes sharpened slightly as he inhaled again, his senses waking up faster than the rest of him. “Is that…?”

“Crispy fried chicken” you said innocently, unable to keep the mischief out of your voice.

Keigo’s eyes widened slightly, and he pushed himself up on his elbows, his wings rustling behind him as he glanced over at the tray on the bedside table.

His expression lit up when he saw the plate of perfectly fried chicken, and for a second, he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh man, you really know how to spoil a guy” he said with a grin, already reaching for a piece of chicken. But before he could take a bite, you stopped him with a soft tap on his hand.

“Not so fast” you teased, your grin widening as you fixed him with a mock-serious stare.

“We need to talk about something first.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, looking amused but curious. “Oh? What’d I do?”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep a straight face, but the memory of his sleep-talking was too much. “Well” you began, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms, “I just wanted to ask you about something you said last night.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? What did I say?”

You couldn’t help it—your grin turned into a full-blown smile, and you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You told me about how you like your fried chicken crispy… and then you told Endeavor to stop touching your wings because they’re too delicate.”

Keigo froze, his expression a mix of disbelief and dawning realization. His golden eyes flickered with recognition as the memory of his dream seemed to come back to him in bits and pieces. His cheeks flushed just the slightest bit, but being the confident man he was, he quickly masked it with a sheepish grin.

“Oh god” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face in mock embarrassment. “Did I really say that?”

You nodded enthusiastically, barely holding back your laughter. “Oh, you did. You were very adamant about the crispy part. And the wings, too. Apparently, Endeavor doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

Keigo let out a low chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair as he leaned back against the headboard. “Man, I can’t believe I was dreaming about fried chicken and Endeavor of all things.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached over to take a piece of chicken for yourself. “I mean, it’s not that surprising. You talk about fried chicken all the time when you’re awake, so why not in your sleep too?”

Keigo shot you a playful glare, grabbing a piece of chicken and taking a bite before responding. “Hey, fried chicken is serious business. It’s important to get it right.” He gestured to the crispy piece in his hand.

“And you clearly get it. This is perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the giggles that bubbled up from your chest. “Yeah, well, next time you dream about fried chicken, maybe try not to throw poor Endeavor under the bus. He probably doesn’t appreciate being accused of touching your wings.”

Keigo laughed again, the sound deep and rich, and it sent warmth through your chest. He reached out to tug you closer, pulling you into his lap with an easy grace that only he could manage.

His wings shifted to accommodate you, wrapping around you both in a soft, feathery embrace.

“Alright, alright, you caught me” he said, his voice low and playful as he nuzzled into your neck. “But you know what? I don’t mind being made fun of if it gets me breakfast in bed.”

You grinned, leaning back into him as you relaxed against his chest. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not done making fun of you yet. I still can’t believe you added that your wings are mine”

Keigo stiffened slightly behind you, his playful demeanor shifting for a moment as his arms tightened around your waist.

“Did I…?” he asked quietly, his voice suddenly more serious.

You nodded, your grin softening into a tender smile. “Yeah. You told someone—probably Endeavor”

Keigo was quiet for a moment, his chin resting on your shoulder as he took in your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more vulnerable. “Well… you are mine and me and my feathers are yours” he said, almost shyly, as if he wasn’t used to saying such things out loud.

“I mean, not in a possessive way or anything… but… you know…”

Your heart melted at the sudden shift in his tone, the way his usual bravado seemed to falter when it came to matters of the heart. You turned in his lap to face him, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned in close.

“I know, Keigo,” you whispered, your voice full of warmth. “And I like it this way”

He smiled at that, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, one that left you both feeling grounded and connected.

When he finally pulled back, his playful grin returned, though there was still a tenderness in his eyes.

“So, how about we make a deal? No more making fun of me for what I say in my sleep, and I’ll share my fried chicken with you.”

You laughed shaking your head, he was impossible—then pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pulling back.

“Deal. But only because I make the best fried chicken.”

Keigo chuckled, pulling you closer as he reached for another piece of chicken, his wings wrapping around you both in a protective cocoon once more.

[loveacrosstimes]

The Nurse and the Rancher

Summary: Claire, a 27-year-old nurse from NYC accidentally gets transported back to California in 1995. There she meets Jamie, a 25-year-old Scot who recently inherited his uncle's sprawling ranch in St. Helena.

Claire Randall had no cell phone, no wallet, not even a single ballpoint pen to accompany her on her trek through the dusty, humid hell that was small town, California.  

It had a name, sure, but she couldn’t remember what it was.

It wasn’t one of the handful of famous cities she’d learned about back home in New York  — Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco  — but that was the least of her worries.

In the span of eight or so hours, she’d settled into the terrifying reality that not only was she not in New York anymore, but she was somehow nearly 30 years in the past as well. 

June 8, 1995, to be exact.

The rolled-up newspaper under her arm confirmed as much, as did the genial convenience store cashier who’d given it to her for free. That small show of kindness had kept her from falling to her knees and asking God why the worst luck in the world seemed to attach itself to her. 

Traveling to the past on the day before her fifth wedding anniversary, when she and her husband, Frank, were already on icy terms. He thought she spent too much time clocking in at the neonatal unit in the hospital; she thought his nose was too far in his history books. 

Neither was wrong, and once they could see past their own deep-seeded stubbornness, they agreed to fix things. 

After spending weeks in couple’s therapy, this was supposed to be a make-or-break milestone for them. 

A new beginning. 

She’d bought a new dress and a little makeup — because it’d been ages since he’d seen her out of her scrubs — supplies to make his favorite maple cake, and the fixings for a steak dinner. 

And now, she'd vanished without a trace. 

She stopped in the middle of the barely-paved road, unfurling the paper. The number of times she’d glanced down at the date hoping that the numbers changed was mind-boggling — but it was unfailing.

June 8, 1995. 

Eight days into the sixth month of the nineteen hundred and ninety-fifth year. 

In Le Cressida , no less, according to the paper. Wherever that was. 

She pressed an anguished hand onto her forehead.

The California sun, which she’d only heard about in theory before today, beat down on her with no abandon, shellacking her curls to her forehead and plastering her scrubs to her thighs.

If she didn’t get something cold to drink soon, she was going to pass out from dehydration. 

Heeding the directions of the cashier, she turned right in front of the store, walking right down the long, uneven street, until she passed a car repair shop and a check cashing place. 

Sure enough, there was a diner across the way. 

HATTIE’S, spelled in all caps. It was supposed to serve the best chicken and waffles in town, according to the cashier. 

Not that she cared. She just needed sustenance.

And water, God, she needed water. 

Claire pushed open the old creaky doors to the diner, and was immediately enveloped with the cold, crispy breeze of air conditioning and the overwhelming smell of grease.

Perhaps her hunger was overtaking her, but it wasn’t a rancid, turn-her-stomach kind of smell.

It smelled like buttery, artery clogging goodness, swirling with the remnants of chicken and burgers and bacon, and whatever else was sizzling on the big splotchy grill back in the kitchen.

She never allowed herself to enjoy these foods, thanks to the number of patients she’d seen meet their demise from years of overindulging when she was doing her rounds in nursing school. 

But today was no ordinary day.

“Come on in, little lady, you’re letting out the AC,” said a gruff, burly man from behind the counter.   

Claire walked further into the establishment. The floors latched onto her shoes, its thin layer of grime sandwiching itself between the grooves on the bottom of her shoe. 

Inside, she grimaced, but she kept her face leveled to keep from offending the man who stood between her and a tall icy beverage. 

“Sorry about that." She pointed back towards the door. "I got distracted.”

He picked up his notepad and shrugged. “‘It’s alright. Now, what can I get for you?”

She sat her newspaper on the counter, then looked at the menu scrawled out in chalk on a board above. Endless pairings of salt, fat, and protein, slathered in more fat, but only one item made her stomach truly quake. 

“Can I get a double cheeseburger, please? Hold the pickles and extra tomatoes. And a cup of ice water. The biggest size you have.”

He wrote as she talked. “That's all?” 

Glancing back up, she considered adding a carb to the meal. Before the universe whisked her to Le Cressida, she’d been making her daily walk to Mount Sinai Hospital. She was halfway there before she realized she’d left her purse at home, but she didn’t think much of it. 

Obviously, she should’ve.

Now, she only had the $50 worth of emergency money she kept in her bra — something NYC pickpockets couldn’t swipe — to pay with. Through some measure of a miracle, it’d made it through this journey here with her. And since she didn’t know how long she’d have to stretch it, she couldn’t go overboard. 

“Yes, that’s all — thank you, uh, Danny,” she said, finally noticing his name tag. 

With a nod, he turned and headed towards the kitchen. 

As he fetched her food, Claire familiarized herself with the surroundings.

The diner walls were dyed with what looked like years of unfiltered oil and smoke residue. There was a large neon, Coca-Cola sign on the wall to the right of the large windows, across from the counter. The retro kind she’d seen in her mother’s old magazines she collected in her early 20s. On the other wall was a board full of polaroid photos she couldn’t make out from her seat. In the other corner was a jukebox that looked like it’d been plucked straight out of the ‘60s – probably why it wasn’t on.

Or maybe it was because the diner was nearly empty. Besides her, two other patrons were sitting in a booth that lined the windows — peculiar for 3:12 p.m, no matter what decade you were in. 

Then again, it wasn’t quite time for the dinner rush yet. 

Or maybe HATTIE'S just didn’t turn over much business. 

She didn’t intend to stay here long enough to figure it out. 

After she got a good meal in her belly, she was going to wander a couple of miles back to the edge of the forest where the universe had spit her out and see if she could get back home.

Glancing backward towards the door, she looked across the way. There was barely any foot traffic along the few businesses that lined the street. It made the expansive nothingness surrounding them in every direction seem more storied, more menacing. 

Just as Claire turned her attention back to the counter, Danny emerged with her order. “Here you go, little lady.” 

She whipped around with a gleam in her eyes. “Thanks, this looks amazing,” she said about the very generic-looking diner burger coated in a thin layer of grease and grill marks – even the bread. 

Yet, it wasn’t long before she was shoveling in her food with both hands, slowing only to gulp down streams of her water. The food wasn’t nearly as tasty as it smelled, and yet it was the most delicious meal she’d ever had in her life. Determined to savor every morsel, she didn’t notice Danny, propped up near the counter, watching her intently. 

“Slow down, ma’am, I don’t know the Heimlich maneuver,” he said with a guttural laugh. 

Face flaming from embarrassment, Claire slowly raised her head and reached for the napkin dispenser. “I’m sorry … I haven’t eaten in hours,” she said, wiping traces of grease from her mouth and hands. 

But he waved her away. “Oh, I’m just funnin' ya. It’s nice to see someone appreciate the cuisine.”

Claire picked up what was left of her burger. “Well, it’s amazing.” A lie and a truth. “I’ll, um, have to come this way more often.”

Though, if the universe cared about her even a little bit, this would be the last time they ever crossed paths, because she’d be able to figure out how to get out of Dodge, and back home. 

Or maybe she’d just wake up from this very bad dream or perhaps even a coma. She hadn’t completely ruled that this wasn’t an elaborate hallucination, after all.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind. It’s always nice to see a new face now and again – especially one so pretty.”

Ignoring Danny, she took another bite from her burger, not wanting to entertain even the mildest flirtation from this man. 

Even if she wasn’t married, he wasn’t her type. 

“Plus, we don’t get many medical folks in this part.”

“Oh?” She asked brow raised slightly. 

“No, the nearest hospital is about 10 miles out.” 

“Yeah, I know,” she said quickly – perhaps too quickly. “But I was doing a house call nearby...” she added, offering up that tidbit before he could find any gaps in her story. “For a homebound patient.”

The less the locals knew of her situation the better. She was already in a strange town in an unfamiliar time. The last thing she needed were people sniffing around her trying to figure out where she was from.

All she had to offer them was the truth, and in this case, it was certainly stranger than fiction. 

"Dedicated eh?” he said, the answer seeming to satisfy him.

She smiled again. “Yes. I love my work.” That part was true. “Anyway, how much was the meal?” She reached into her bra for all the money she had in the world. Her poor father, he’d roll in his grave if he knew.

“Let’s see, a burger, extra tomatoes, and ice water. $5.56.”

“Really?” She asked, unable to contain her surprise. That same meal would’ve been at least $12-15 in 2024 —  and that's without a tip.

“Yep. Surely that’s not too steep for a nurse – I hear y’all make good money.”

“No, it’s very affordable. I’m just … surprised.”

He shrugged again. “Shouldn’t be. Things are cheaper out here in the sticks.” 

“I'm learning.” 

He reached for her money and walked over to the register.

She turned her attention back to her water, downing the rest of it. Barely satiated, but feeling stronger to restart her journey. 

Behind her the door jingled, alerting her to another patron, but she was too transfixed with the temporary relief.

It wasn’t until he stood next to her at the counter that she noted his statuesque physique. A long, lean body, accented by bulging muscles,  topped with a mess of auburn curls. 

He was wearing loose-fitting jeans, gathered at the waist with a belt and a plaid button down with what looked to be cut-off sleeves.

He was a cowboy or a cosplayer. 

Was cosplaying even a thing in the 90s? Her knowledge of the decade mostly amounted to the 90s-era TV she’d grown up with and the stories from her mother’s days as a wild, uninhibited twenty-something she’d heard about from her aunt Tiffany. She couldn’t remember any mention of the costume-heavy conventions that had taken root during her lifetime.

Either way, he was undeniably handsome in a way it’d be improper to harp on as a married woman.

So she didn’t harp .

She took only a moment to familiarize herself with this deliriously handsome figure standing feet away.

He noticed her a beat later and tilted his cowboy hat towards her. 

She flashed him a meek smile, then forced her gaze forward. 

Danny returned to the counter with a conflicted look on his face. 

“I’ll be with you in just one second, Jamie,” he said to the man he was obviously familiar with. 

Jamie, as she now knew him, nodded, then took the fourth seat at the counter, leaving two empty seats between them. 

Turning back in front of her, Claire caught the man’s expression, turning her face downward into a frown. “Everything okay?” She asked, a prickly filling rooting itself in her stomach. 

And it wasn't because of the greaseball of a burger she'd scarfed down.

“It will be after you tell me where you got this money.” 

She blinked slowly, taken aback. “Umm, an ATM?

“Which one?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does when the money is counterfeit,” he said, holding the bill up into the air next to a second $50 bill he’d pulled from the register. 

Pressing her hands into the counter, Claire leaned forward.  “Are you seriously accusing me of giving you fake money?” 

“I am.”

“This is preposterous. I have a good job, and I am married to a man with a good job. I have no reason to hawk fake cash.”

“I don't need your life story, little lady. All I know is that Ulysses S. Grant’s head is the wrong size, misaligned, and the numbers are missing those little circles. Not to mention this bill says series 2024. 20, 25 – nearly 30 years into the future. So unless you rode up in town in a time machine, you’re dealing fake money, and you got it from someone who didn’t give a damn enough to make it look real.”

Eyes wide, Claire froze, the unsettling realization sinking into her bones. Of course, the money looked weird — it wasn’t yet in circulation. Thank God she hadn’t tried to pay with the new $100 bills; Danny would really crap his pants then. “Can I see it?” She asked, hoping that if she could get her hands on it, she could somehow explain away the abnormalities.

Or at the very least snatch it and make a quick escape. 

Where the hell she would flee, she didn’t know, but she knew she didn’t need another problem added to her plate.

“No … and guess what else? I’m going to have to call the Sheriff.”

“Sheriff?! Why?!” She yelled, garnering the attention of the other patrons – including the Ginger-haired man sitting two seats down. He'd already been quietly assessing the scene, but her outburst inspired a less casual observance.

"It’s the rules. We have to confiscate fake bills. He stopped, his gaze thickening as he allowed his eyes to travel from her face down her body. For the first time that day, this somewhat neutral stranger made her skin crawl. “But you look to be about his type  — bat those pretty eyelashes of yours and you’ll probably be able to get off with a warning.”

“Surely, you’re not suggesting that I use my womanly wiles to fix a problem made by your egregious accusation.”

“Egregious!? You’re the one trying to cheat out a small diner in a small town with your fake money. What happens to you is not my problem. What is, is making sure you don’t do it again.”

This was the last thing she needed.

Actually, being whisked into the past the day before her anniversary was the last thing she needed, but this certainly wasn’t helping. 

Especially now. It’d only be a matter of hours before Frank realized she was missing – that’s if her job hadn’t called him because she hadn’t shown up for work that day. She needed to figure out how to get back home before she made the local news. 

Unable to help herself, her tears built and fell hard and fast. She pressed her elbows into the counter and rested her face in her hands. “I cannot fucking believe this is my life,” she said under her breath. 

Danny turned to reach for the corded phone on the wall — another nostalgic relic from decades past she would now associate with one of the worst days of her life.  But before he could dial the Sheriff, a thick Scottish accent spoke up beside her. 

“Wait, Danny,” said the voice she quickly realized was Jamie’s. “Let me pay for the lass’ meal. It can’t be that much.”

Eyes wide, Claire shot the man a surprised glance. The other man held the phone in the air, looking between them, brows furrowed. Whoever he was, was somebody that Danny respected, as his inquiry had momentarily halted his desire for “justice.”

“I don’t know,” Danny said after a beat. “I don’t want to give an outsider the impression that it’s okay to get over on us small-town folk.”

“Just this one time.” He said, tilting his head her way. “The lass looks like she’d had a long day." Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, he pulled out a $50 bill, dangling the money in front of the cook with a charming smile.

Danny shot her one more contemptuous glance, then returned his attention to Jamie. “And I can keep the change?” He bargained. 

“$50 for a burger and some water? You must ken me a Gomerel,” Jamie objected.

“And you must ‘ken’ me a brassy-haired Scot,” Danny returned with a laugh. “But that was your uncle, not me."

“Come on, Danny. Ye’re robbing me blind.” 

He shrugged. “That’s my price for not turning in the thief.”

Claire, who’d become more transfixed with this kind man’s thick, Scottish accent than she wanted to admit – rooted herself back in the present at his insult. “I am not a thief.”

"No, you’re just a woman handing out Party City money to hard working, small town folk.” 

Unable to help herself, Claire wound herself up to unleash an insult in kind, but Jamie interjected. "Fine, I’ll give you the $50,” Jamie replied. 

With a sigh, Danny hung the phone back up on the wall. “Fine, you got yourself a deal,” he said, taking the money from Jamie. “And I’m still keeping this,” he said, referencing Claire’s $50. 

It was the bit of cash she owned, but being absolutely broke was better than spending the night in the local jail, a fate she’d escaped thanks to this stranger. “Whatever,” she said, rising from her seat at the counter. 

Danny deposited the money into the register just as a few more people walked into the diner. More trickled in across the way. Adults, teens, kids – school and work was obviously over for the day.

And if time moved at the same pace here as it did back home, Frank would be expecting her home within a couple of hours. 

But as eager as she was to get back, she had to take care of something first. She took a step forward where the man was seated. “Thank you so much … Jamie,” she said slowly with a smile. “You didn’t have to do that, but I am so, so grateful that you did.”

He humped his shoulders. “It was nothing,” he replied in that thick, mellifluous accent of his. “But I wouldn’t suggest you try that again. People don’t take kindly to scammers in these parts.”

“I really wasn’t trying to scam anyone. I have no idea how I ended up with fake money,” she lied, though it actually wasn't a lie.

Tilting his head, he looked at her incredulously – as if he didn’t believe even an ounce of her story. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just be careful."

She nodded, unwilling to even scrounge up an explanation that he would believe, mainly because she didn’t have one – at least not on such short notice. Also, because for a moment, she got lost in the oceanic depths of his gorgeous blue eyes. 

“I will,” she said eventually. “And thanks again.” 

“It was my pleasure,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face. 

Turning back to the counter, Claire grabbed her newspaper and the rest of her ice water, then turned towards the door. 

Just as she reached the exit, he called out to her. 

“What’s your name again, lass?” 

She turned on the balls of her feet, meeting his inquiry. “What was that?”

“Yer name.”

“Oh. I’m Claire …" she said, "Claire Randall."

“It was nice to meet you, Claire. I’m Jamie. Jamie Fraser.”

**********

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It's also available on AO3!