#is that I need to go to the bookstore this week
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octopiys · 9 hours ago
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I fear I've become obsessed with the Honey series
Lost and Found
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iv. dinner de novo
(anon I love you thank you so much <3)
Cw: blood mention
You flit throughout the kitchen as Simon watches from the corner, the noisy buzz of the heat lamp filling the silence.
Simon Riley was not scared of many things. He can't risk fear in high stakes settings that he tends to find himself in. He has to stay strong, be a leader, and think fast.
Simon Riley is.... apprehensive. He wanted to offer help, but he knew that if you set your mind to something, you'd get it done. Anyone in your way would probably be smacked with the nearest spatula. He valued his life, thank you very much.
You had come back in with a handful of herbs that he didn't recognize, and with wet socks. Your heart had been racing, and he was damn well sure it wasn't because of the duck. He knew he'd be foolish to think it was because of dinner tonight.
Now was not the time to ask.
He knew, at some point, hed have to find out. Not that he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to press you into admitting something when you're not ready. When he had found you, weeks ago, scratched up, bruised, and bloody, a fogged up look in your eyes, he knew you had been running. He ran once, too. He knew some things were better left buried.
He knew that once you told him, he probably wouldn't stop until he found the bastard that had dared lay hands on you. His little stray that done more than enough for him, innocent, but not helpless.
Dog lumbers over and sits on his lap, yawning. He spares a glance at his bookshelf. Maybe when he got back from his mission, hed take you to a bookstore. He thinks you'd like that. A good girl like you, cooking him and his best mate dinner, you deserve a reward.
You yelp in the kitchen, metal clattering to the floor, and he's up in an instant, at your side even quicker. Blood pearls on your thumb, the thin slice going deeper than appeared. A tomato lay cut in half, the kitchen knife on the floor, the likely culprit.
Tears pool like diamonds in your eyes and he wants to kiss the salt away to make it better. He huffs lowly under his breath, heart spiking in his chest as he pulls a paper towel off the counter and gently, yet firmly, wraps your thumb.
Before you know it, hes chopping the rest of the tomato so you don't have to. His movements are jerky, unskilled, but the attempt warms your heart.
This is how Simon helps, you think.
The rest of dinner preparation goes by smoothly. By smoothly, you mean, you pick up the next ingredient and utensil, and Simon wordlessly puts out his hands, looking at you with his slightly droopy brown eyes, unrelenting. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest, and you hand them to him. The corners of his mouth pulls up, just the slightest bit, and he turns to the stove, or sink, or whatever you need him to do.
He is under your thumb, he is your whim, he is under your mercy, utterly dedicated and devoted to you. Don't wanna stress his best girl out, he thinks, glancing at you nursing your cut thumb with watery eyes and a nervous voice as you tell him what to do.
When the tomatoes are done, you tell him, they go in the ceramic tray with the onions, oil, paprika, and italian seasoning. It had taken a little while to find the paprika. You're not sure what that says about the store, but honestly, you're too far in now to worry about it. You cut the top off a head of garlic and stick it in there while Simon mixes it up. When he realized you were working while so gravely injured, (really, he's being a little dramatic. You've survived much worse.) he shot you a look, until you glared back at him, and he backed down a little bit. He moves to get the pasta ready to boil, and you cover the tray with aluminum foil.
You're humming to yourself softly as you put the tray in the oven, and bake at 200c (or 400f) for an hour. The salted water rolls to a boil, and you ask Simon to put the pasta in-
"Slowly, Si- I said slowly! Slowly, it's gonna-!" You laugh, tugging him backwards as the water boils over the side as he tries to pour all the pasta in at once. When the water settles, still giggling, you ease him back towards the stove, and show him how to properly add in the pasta. Really, how this man got by before you, you don't know.
When your hour is up, Simon leaps at the chance to take the tray from the oven.
"You'll burn yourself, Honey. Can't have that." He murmurs, flinching slightly at the warm air.
When the pasta is al dente, cooked to your liking, you strain it. Simon adds a few greens, half a lemon's worth of juice, and squishes the roasted garlic into the tray. You gag at the thought of adding coconut milk, so you leave it out. You stir in the pasta- slowly- and the doorbell rings.
Your eyes widen, flashing to the door, before looking at Simon.
"'S just Johnny, honey. Johnny and Peach. 'Member?" He says, voice gentle, hand held out. "I'll plate these up. Can ya get the door for me?"
Your feet are glued to the ground, your mouth is dry. Your eyes flick to the door. He's sure, he's sure it's them? You haven't had any... welcome visitors here.
"Here, I'll go with you. Bastard can plate himself." He snips, and your shoulders ease, taking his hand.
Scraggle is clawing at the door, while Dog sleeps against the couch. Some guard dog. Simon nudges Scraggle out of the way with his foot, before unlocking the door.
Your heart is in your throat.
"I told you he'd open the door!" Peach's loud voice was evident behind the door, followed by a dull *thwack!*
"Oi! I wasnae sayin'- Hi, LT- wasnae sayin' he forgot!" Says Johnny, sounding highly accosted, and slightly dramatic. You see him with a pout on his lips, and Peach's eyes light up when she sees you.
"Aren't ya so pretty? We brought a housewarmin' gift, Hon, hope ya don't mind!" She laughs, and your face flushes warm as she puts flowers in your hands. You glance and see Simon being handed a small bottle of amber liquid, before the two are ushered into the house.
"Ooh, shite, smells lovely, Honey." Johnny says, and you open your mouth to mutter a quiet thanks, before Peach interjects with a, "Language!"
"It- It's really okay," you hum softly. "It's in the kitchen, er- the plates aren't out-"
In the blink of an eye, Simon is opening the cabinet, and tossing a plate at Johnny, and handing one to Peach. Peach hands her plate to you, saying, "Cook gets the first dig!"
You flush, thanking her quietly, as Simon grabs a plate for himself, "accidentally" whacking Johnny over the head with it when he tries to reach for the ladle.
Simon looks.... happy.
You hum, an almost chittering sound, and scoop some pasta onto your plate as your stomach growls. Everyone else plates themselves, and the group migrates to the table.
You look... happy, Simon notes. As soon as the fork touches your tongue, you're shovelling food into your mouth, delighted at the way it turned out, but also ravenous, like you're worried you're never gonna have anything as good ever again.
Under the table from where he sits, Simon rests his hand on your thigh. His pulse beats firm beneath his wrist, and you falter. You take a breath. You don't have to eat like it's your last meal. It's okay. You're safe here, no one is going to judge you.
You smile at him, slightly relieved.
The push and pull of the waves, the horror and euphoria of being known.
This is how Simon loves, you think.
"Nae fookin' wonder yer so eager tae git home, LT-" Johnny practically moans through a mouthful of food. "I would take if Peach here wouldnae burn everythin'-"
"I do not! But oh my gods, Honey, this food is so fuckin' good, you gotta give me your recipe- pardon my language, but..."
She continues talking, playfully arguing with Johnny over a glass of bourbon, and Simon cracks a few laughs. You smile into your water, choking at some joke, and Scraggle screams under your chair for some pasta scraps mother, please, kindly donate a few to a starving Creature, never before eaten, Mother, you Do Not Understand-
You drop a noodle or two, and Scraggle yowls happily.
It feels... peaceful, in your house tonight.
Relaxation eases your shoulders, even after Peach and Johnny leave.
On the couch, you sip a few drops of Simon's bourbon. You don't usually drink, it makes you feel...... nervous, but a sip or two to relax wouldn't kill you. It was rich, smoky almost, and warm down your throat and into your chest.
Winter is coming soon, and the fire glows warmly in embers. Some movie is playing on the telly, and you're curled up against Simon's side. It took him a few moments to realize that you wanted comfort, and even then he asked to make sure. Now, his hand slowly rakes through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. Tingles rise on your arms every once in a while.
At peace.
Your eyes blink slowly, as you snuggle into him.
He doesn't take his eyes off you.
"Simon?" You ask, as if making sure he was still here.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." You say softly, a murmur. His heart quickens just the slightest.
His face is warm. "For what?"
You hum in response, hand drifting down to lightly pet Scraggle, who had fallen asleep right next to the couch, a note carried on by the warmth of the fire.
Your breathing evens out, deepens, and he knows he won't get an answer tonight. That's okay, he thinks.
His phone buzzes.
He yawns, thinking nothing of it, and looks down.
A text from John.
He opens it, rubbing his eyes slightly, before going back to petting your head, before cold flushes down his neck as he reads.
JP: Someone's looking for your girl.
masterlist
A/N: Hello! Thank you guys so much for the love on the past few chapters. I'm so sorry it's been a while since I updated, but I had a lot going on. Luckily, I'm okay and much better now, but I just wanted to let you all know that you're so so so loved! Also, the recipe in here is an actual, functional recipe. If anyone makes it, please let me know! I personally wouldn't add the coconut milk, but to each their own lol. see you next chapter!
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tenrose · 9 months ago
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I just finished the Fifth Season and HOLY SHIT THIS BOOK IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE
I need a recovery therapy cause so many traumatic events happening like what the hell?????? So many questions left unanswered, and I didn't buy the next book 😭😭😭😭
But the last fucking sentence?????? They don't have a m-????? Is that what he means when asking???? Is that the thing that has been missing??? Are you fucking kidding me????? And you throw that at my face while I'm trying to recover from some very fucked up situations???? What am I supposed to do with all of this?????
Anyway so far, best book I've read in a while, 100% would recommend to go to therapy over this book
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heartyearning · 11 days ago
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i've been having an absolutely Hateful time lately but there are still some good things in life namely !!!!!!
-> my housemates in general but specifically them on the balcony with one of them cutting the other's hair which i can both hear a little bit (like in the background) but am also getting picture updates of on whatsapp -> having good interactions with people in stores. LOVE that shit. when u & the cashier r both in a good mood and you feel that connection 10/10 -> new pair of second hand jeans that i love. WITH an absolute slay belt. -> planning on making pancakes tonight (roommate birthday). slay.
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spextkrr · 28 days ago
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going to complain for a second whatever
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berenshand · 3 months ago
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feel like pure shit just want her (the city of dublin ireland) back
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altruistic-meme · 7 months ago
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i am in dire need of a new bookshelf.
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cimicherrychanga · 1 year ago
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just emailed last years college secretary, looked into signing up for 2 other colleges, got the details for a job im interested in + texted the friend whose sister works there to see if she can get me Connections and i got another job offer from the place i interned at im soooo cool and adult
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neixins · 9 months ago
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i need to clean my room but it’s already 8pm and i know cleaning will take at least 2-3 hours and i still need to wash my hair but i can’t stand the mess anymore
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partangel · 1 year ago
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got a 19 out of 20 for my thesis project 👍 truly living the archetype of fake it till you make it sell it like you believe on it etc etc. more validating than the final grade however was having my thesis supervisor, known for being one of the most eloquent lecturers on the university telling me that i am an excellent writer 🏆 really living for this spa treatment. having said all that cannot help but confess that i am just waiting to get trampled with because imposter syndrome has been hitting more than ever due to this attention
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rosy-letters · 1 year ago
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I miss them...........
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natreads · 1 year ago
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hate that with freelance I never truly have the day off because in the back of my mind I'm always feeling like I should be working
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chaotic-history · 1 year ago
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having to speak russian now after having pretty much completely stopped studying for six months is so fucking frustrating bc i'll completely blank on a word and then later i'll hear it and it's like. i *know* the words i just can't remember them
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autistic-shaiapouf · 1 year ago
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Also wondering if I should follow up on my initial little idea of "I should buy a book with every single paycheck" especially since I seem to be actually reading books now
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fangmich · 1 year ago
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Cute book covers I found the past days...
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altruistic-meme · 7 months ago
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as we can all see, the bsd brainworms got me. so i am adding bsd to the manga collection chart 🫡
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yoohyeon · 5 months ago
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My little cousin asked for mangas for her birthday, I’m a proud godmother 😌
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