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[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 24

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I'm going ham depicting all the OCs this time around so here's everyone's favorite phone obsessed peep, Eugene! Obviously they were captured at their most flattering by the magnanimous @grumpytheunicorn

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

NOTE: So my secular ass that was raised without religion genuinely had no idea that godparents was a religious concept. I curse the christian-centric values bred into the American zeitgeist. Like obviously, it has the word 'god' in it, but no one said this dork had a high IQ (I very much don't). I was genuinely inspired to even do a godparent story line because of the movie Life as We Know It (2010). My deepest apologies if this misstep alienated anyone. Please know that it does not come from a place of faith and instead is meant only in the non-religious terms which is a guardian who takes custody of a child should anything happen to a child's parents.

First 💜 Previous

You wanted to say you marched into the arena. In a tight, single file formation, double doors were shoved open in front of you. The leaders of your group paved the way for the opposing team’s imminent loss. Another set of doors were breached and the suction seal of sound was broken. Fanfare erupted as the first challengers were seen. Flickering lights danced around mimicking paparazzi and within a few steps, you too had entered the building. Your husband was the heavy on the end, the last force to back up your intrepid part and from the front, your general spoke.

“I am here���” Eugene threw a thumb at their person over the host stand. “… for the 100 wing death challenge.”

“Party for Eugene.” The woman double checked her notes before chirping through the illusions of grandeur. “Right this way!”

You were now simply a group of friends who had walked into a sports bar and were led to a table that accommodated your numbers. While you had been incubating a baby, your friends’ lives had continued. Eugene had picked up an interest in eating competitions after binge watching some competitive eating show. They had scoured New York City for a reasonable enough challenge and relied on their spiced upbringing to win them a particular gold. This bar had recently opened and no one had been able to achieve the goal as of yet, so Eugene marked themself down to be the first. This gave them precedent and they took a seat at the head of the table to face their cheer squad.

Kaleb was fast tracking for a promotion and hadn’t had much time for antics. He was a little all work and no play, though you bet everyone at his job still considered him the quintessential jolly man. You heard he had been driving out of the city for some curry place as his only extracurricular as of late and he manned the second seat to the head of the table.

Coral sat immediately across from him with her usual poise. If this were any other event, she might have been the one executing, but she had deferred along with her taming. Exercise had fallen off of her interest list and mimosa flights had moved in. Bubbly was her means of celebration as she and Nelson had been dating for almost three whole months.

You headed for the seat next to hers since said man was on a work trip. Besides a label, very little had changed in their dynamic. Both Coral and Nelson would have been here to cheer Eugene on, had he been available. He was probably texting the group chat asking for updates and you meant to check, but you struggled to fit into the slot she had tucked into. She had chosen a route along a wall and your little one was feeling especially not so little in your 28th week.

“Shit.” Coral noticed and clicked her tongue. “Sink, switch!”

“No way!” Kaleb slapped his belly. “You think I’m squeezing my ass in there? Bring that baby to the open side.”

He gestured to the seat next to his and how his row had space as it butted up to walkway.

“I want to sit next to Y/N!” Coral broiled.

Donnie paused at the end of the table to select whatever was leftover.

“Okay.” You caught a chair and put some weight onto it. “I can fit, I just need a second…”

Kaleb looked right at Donnie. “Colonel, let’s just move the table.”

“I can fit!” You snapped.

Donnie stayed especially still.

Kaleb blinked.

Eugene grinned pre-gamed shit.

Coral’s frown lined her cheeks.

You took a single breath to keep the next line out of your mouth at bay. You sympathized heavily with a particular woman who had just wanted ice cream. Now far removed from easily concealed bump days, your supposed helplessness was on the rise. There was always someone trying to make way or, worse yet, trying to touch you, and your mate often picked up the slack. An irrational part of your brain said your friends should know all this, but you had been just about as scarce as they were in life updates.

You were glad when Eugene had asked you to come.

They had made sure to ask specifically you.

They said they wanted you there.

They said they wanted to catch up while they suffered.

A gauntlet, they had joked, referring to yet another program.

It meant something.

It all meant something.

Coral’s care.

Kaleb’s assumption.

Donnie’s patience.

It was all equally irritating.

Your feet ached.

Your lower back was incessantly sore.

Your calves would throb from this short pause.

You were in a never ending battle between sitting down and your bladder.

You breathed in and out again before you tried to meaningfully look over your options. Kaleb’s mind for engineering argued his course was best and it would be nice to be able to easily get in and out of your seat when you inevitably had to hit the restroom next.

“Move the table.” You admitted trying not to be too sad about it.

The hoist took less than a few seconds and no one made further notes.

Donnie eventually sat across from you and beside Kaleb. Waters were passed out and other, more paltry orders were taken. Eugene’s serious air kept the table from falling into much catch up and eventually a team of employees approached the table.

“Welcome!” The first spoke as the hostess from the front. “I have a whole spiel, are you ready?”

“Born ready.” Eugene looked up with a fiery gazed they hoped matched the wings.

“Alright.” The woman bowed slightly. “Welcome to The Vertigo Venue, home of the 100 wing death challenge, where you won’t leave without your head spinning. As the reaper implies, you need to finish 100 of the world’s hottest wings in under 45 minutes. They will be brought to you in groups of 10 with the last 5 beings made with some of the hottest peppers in the world. Do you think you can stand up to the heat or will you be running from our kitchen?”

A man beside her who looked like he had come from the cook staff nodded appropriately.

“I’m here to win.” Eugene stared straight on.

“We’ll see. We’ll need you to sign a standard liability waiver.” The perky woman took an offered piece of paper from the third member of their trio and passed it along with a pen.

Kaleb and Donnie both tried to eye it as Eugene signed it without reading.

“Perfect. The rest of your food will be out soon. Our server, Monica, here will monitor you. You’re not allowed to drink water, use dip, or get into anything else that might cleanse your palate between wing sets. Still sound good?”

“Let’s get it going!” Eugene hollered.

The rest of the table minus Donnie cheered alongside.

The two others bowed out and Monica took the far seat opposite Eugene.

“Monica.” Kaleb immediately leaned forward to see her. “Scare the pants off Eugene. Tell us all about the losers.”

Monica jumped a little. “Uh… I only just started last week…”

“Aw!” Kaleb sank back in his chair.

“Pathetic.” Eugene sneered.

“Though… I heard the first guy who tried it fainted and was taken away in an ambulance…” Monica continued on.

Eugene hiccupped.

“The second and third didn’t make it past 50 and the last one…” Monica thought hard. “I think I heard they threw up or burned their sinuses or something. That also might have been a lie for the newbie…”

The rest of the table was now staring at her.

“I mean think about it!” She squeaked.

“Can I get a copy of that waiver?” Coral oozed malevolence. “I want to hang it over Eugene’s hospital bed.”

“Shut up!” Eugene swatted at her.

Conversation opened up and broke apart. From the table to smaller parties, you chatted with Coral about how she thought the celery and carrots were a waste of time. Eugene went on to speak about their utility which went on until Monica stood. It was a signal and you all quieted as a server came around your table. Food was dispersed to everyone else in a way that made Eugene stand out.

They were center stage when that cook from earlier walked out to personally deliver the first ten hot wings.

He spoke of some insane number of Scoville units, which measured the spice.

Eugene seemed unimpressed and the man departed.

Monica pulled a digital clock out from somewhere and readied it. “I’ll start it when you take your first bite.”

Eugene nodded once.

Kaleb was already through a few of his own wings as he watched.

Everyone else waited.

Eugene picked up a flat and leveled their gaze at Monica.

She found some courage and returned it with a hand over the button.

A few wild west seconds ticked by before they took a bite and she pressed the clock.

“Oh!” Eugene immediately perked up. “That’s pretty good.”

They ate at a steady pace with a relatively impressed expression.

“What’s the math on that?” Kaleb tipped his head to Donnie.

“For 45 minutes, 2.2 wings a minute.” Donnie answered, having yet to eat anything.

“The point two wings part is the real challenge.” Kaleb spoke like a joking sage.

Your spouse nodded without further mention.

Kaleb examined him with a creased brow.

The cook came out with the next basket.

You sort of heard the new Scoville number, but really you smelled the spice.

You salivated.

Your own wings were something basic.

Your gastrointestinal system had been particularly active.

It didn’t help that your child was kicking.

Dr. Kuro had you doing what she called a ‘kick count.’ While she admitted the egg shell made it a bit odd, she cautioned that the larger the baby grew, the more active they would become. You figured they got Donnie’s smarts because soon after that they seemed to realize they could get a reaction out of you only if they kicked the malleable placenta. You would find yourself struck at odd hours and heaving when your organs were attacked.

Counting out your abuse was a given.

Donnie, who apparently could hear the movement, was always nearby for a hand to squeeze. You guessed you considered that a forewarning of birth, though that was still a tossup. Dr. Kuro said she was waiting to see something specific before she made a final determination on whether you’d be up for natural birth or not. You quaked at the thought of passing the plastron, but your doctor seemed confident it was soft enough. You found that hard to believe when she seemed to only be able to tell that by sonogram, but you had no choice but to defer to her centuries of knowledge.

If the knocks to your insides weren’t bad enough, your heartburn picked up the slack.

You had never particularly noticed any cravings. If anything you developed aversions, but they always seemed to make sense. Eating a constant diet geared toward your health often put you in food ruts. There were only so many ways vegetables, fruits, and lean proteins could be prepared for maximum benefit and you hit those walls fast. You did your best to rotate the crops. An attempt was made so you didn’t deplete your reserves in each food group, but it had been a neverending balance act.

Acid reflux hit you hard in week 27.

Without obvious cause or culprit you were burping up boiling oil. For the first time in your pregnancy, you felt the ache of nausea. Churning guts had you reaching for antacids. You had to check which were safe when all you wanted was to stop the burn. You tried to hastily switch your diet in an attempt to offset it, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the burn.

You ate a banana one day with no problem.

The next it caught in your throat a second time after swallowing.

You moved swiftly through your meal plans and it all culminated in a little pregnancy oddity. There were tons of these as far as Dr. Kuro was concerned and she likened them to the babies themselves. She said cravings and the like were all the baby deciding what they liked best, even if there was no evidence to support it.

You were sick enough to agree, but your mate had been hung up on the lack of science.

He had researched what he could, but abandoned it with relative swiftness. Pools of data were riddled with error and emotion. He likened it to the source of his ninpo as if he hadn’t taken to his new power like a moth to a flame. After his display of grandeur in the living room, his constructs were soon things he made without second thought. You figured it was an extension of those holograms that were linked to his brain. Ninpo bypassed some microscopic lag that supposedly came from his chip and had far greater application.

With a touch, he had a mug warmer keeping your tea the right temperature while you agonized over getting the minty aid down. With a tip of his head, a prop would appear if you needed to rest. He had even whipped up a neck pillow, though it was unusable. Tests found that while he understood organic compounds, he couldn’t recreate them with his power. The polyester he tried to manifest had been itchy and coarse. Though he was annoyed he couldn’t help you, knowing that mysticism had its limits seemed to soothe your mate.

They were caps on the intangible and he saw the rules as physical concepts. For moving mass, they were the calculations for friction and he loved parameters. He moved within them and wove throughout. You saw him create new battle shell prototypes in blinks just so he could see the components. He would turn the manifestations with flourishes and burst them into pieced blueprints so he could walk amongst the parts.

If you hadn’t been so sick as of late, you could have seen him revel more.

As it was, those glimpses had been few and far between. You wanted to encourage him because you loved to watch, but as of now Donnie barely spared time to practice. He only seemed to work with his ninpo to make sure his handle on it was a safe one. You and your child were his greater focus. He cared little for some great power as he deemed it unnecessary with the current state of his life. He had other things he wanted to do and, even if his ninpo could have helped, his plans were to do things with his own two hands, so he did.

The lumber for the crib had arrived a few days ago.

He was still reworking the perfect blueprint.

Tending to your tender stomach had kept him from long stretches of design.

The closing in of all you needed to do further upset your stomach.

So much of the time you thought should have gone to preparing for the baby had been used to instead see what shape the baby would take. It was difficult to think about buying clothes when you weren’t sure how sharp the carapace would be. You didn’t know how to account for diapers if there was a tail or not. Bottle types were a stalwart until one considered if formula was even necessary.

As far as you noticed, you hadn’t even produced milk or whatever precursor concoction it was called.

It was head-spinning.

You were already neglecting your friends as it were. Falling behind in regards to your kid which was the one thing you were supposedly putting all your energy toward felt like the ultimate failing. The thoughts might have consumed you had you not heard but opposition.

From Dr. Kuro, who had immediately picked up on the faintest hint of your anxiety, to Donnie, who was the king of over-preparations, neither party allowed for your doubts. Contingencies were always possible, but, as most of these things went, it didn’t matter how prepared or unprepared you were; a baby was coming. You would be ready because you had to be. Whatever you needed would be acquired and, if it had to be something different, then you would get that instead. Without the economic bars, that should have been settled for you, but the admonishment for thinking with such privilege in the first place came as a countercurrent.

It felt like a resurgence of the inadequacies you had long overcome. Years had gone by since you berated yourself in that way and the feelings had crept in to poison your heart and mind before you knew it. You decided that they were the leak of acid upsetting your stomach to absolve you and your baby of blame. It was the bad thoughts making you sick and not any infantile kicks. A change of mindset wasn’t something that happened immediately, but you had seen a turn as soon as you started to dismantle that train of thought.

Except now you were heavily debating on sucking the clean bones Eugene left behind.

Two more baskets had cycled through in that time and people were talking. Coral had left you behind to debate something with Kaleb that seemed to relate to Eugene. Said person sat at the center of a storm and seemed to be faring well. There was the faintest flush to their cheeks, but they continued eating at an even pace.

The smell of spice was in the air and tucking back into your nostrils. Waves of it wafting into a manifesting cloud that beckoned you forward. You moved by your nose alone as you leaned against the table. Your baby held onto the metaphorical edge to peak themselves at the treat unknown to them because you wanted one of those wings.

A level four spice couldn’t have been that bad.

You were turning toward Monica before you realized it. “When does the waiver kick in?”

Monica was schooled enough that she didn’t look away from Eugene. “It’s for overall consumption and the last fifteen.”

“Are the other sauces…” You glanced at one of the discarded baskets that had yet to be picked up and felt that drive hit you. “… on the menu normally?”

“Y/N…?” Coral caught wind of what you were doing.

 “Huh?” You couldn’t pull your gaze away.

“You gonna do the challenge? You think eating for two gives you an edge?”

“What? No.” You finally blinked away.

“You’re eye fucking the bones.” Coral’s smile quirked.

“I don’t-!” You shook your head.

“Craving!” Eugene gulped out a fiery breath. “Mom did that with me! I was a spice baby!”

“You are good with spice.” Kaleb was inclined to agree.

“How’d that work out?” You felt a little guilty asking since it took Eugene’s attention away.

Eugene thought while they chewed.

You could feel Donnie eyeing you.

“Ever had heartburn so bad you couldn’t move?” Eugene finally animated and pointed a set of bones at you.

You sort of wanted to lean forward and bite the sinew on the joint.

“Haven’t you been dying with heartburn already?” Coral leaned suspiciously into your person.

“What’s another?” You found yourself saying.

Eugene laughed right into a choke.

Kaleb and Monica both shot to attention.

“Spice! Throat!” Eugene coughed out. “M’okay!”

Coral whacked their back and was cursed out for it.

Another set of wings for level five arrived.

You watched with a dropped jaw as your coveted bones were removed.

The new set scorched your nostrils from two seats away and your baby kicked with demands.

“C-can I-?!” You tried to call out to the cook, but his back turned and he was gone.

Donnie fluidly stood from his seat and chased him down.

“Ah…” You sounded your displeasure.

“There’s something!” Eugene took his first bite of wing 50. “Thought they were going easy on me!”

Coral glanced at the clock. “Might do it… Huh!”

“Non-believer!” Eugene shared spittle.

“I’m siding with the winning team.” Kaleb cheered.

“Fair-weather fan!” Coral cursed.

Donnie returned.

“You know what a fair-weather fan is, Dee?” Kaleb went to share the joke.

You sort of saw your husband shake his head, but you were staring at some napkins.

An insane part of you wanted to snort their red blotches.

Not only was that patently gross, it also would have been bad for your skin.

Craving or not, the thought of hot sauce swallowed your rationale.

You wanted it.

Your own food was completely unappetizing.

You only wanted something of that spice caliber.

Nothing else would suffice.

Heat.

Tongue burning.

Gasping for water.

You wanted to choke on it.

It would be all you could taste.

You sucked back up literal drool to wash your mouth out.

“Excuse me.” There was a tap to your shoulder.

You jumped as far as your belly allowed.

Everyone paused at your yelp.

You turned to find a server equally shocked, but still holding onto a small basket of 6 wings. “I-I’m so sorry. Are you alright? You couldn’t hear me, I just thought-!”

You meant to apologize.

Take blame.

Anything.

Except right at eye level was oozing lines of heat.

You could see the steam warping the air.

It came with a scent.

That spice that had been dropping down Eugene’s gullet at a dangerous pace.

The server was still talking and you only looked up at them. “Those are mine?”

“U-Uh! Y-yes!” They offered you the basket.

You smacked the untouched set you had ordered before away.

You heard Coral clear her throat from behind her hand.

You felt Eugene stare.

You didn’t care.

You yanked the wings down and let the smell wash over you.

Your eyes watered.

“Uh…” Kaleb drawled out concern.

“Shh!” Coral hissed.

You selected your first wing and everything else fell away.

There was clearly more than one flavor in the basket, but you didn’t care. Whatever wing was closest was your first choice. If you had been a better friend, you might have paid attention to spice level explanation. You were sure you had an excuse.

Tender flesh reached your lips and you tore into it indelicately. 

A moan escaped you.

The lapping heat licked your tongue right back.

You took another bite.

You skirted bone.

The sauce scorched your lips.

It felt divine.

Hellfire washed you clean from inside out.

Each bite siphoned more of that spit down your throat. It burned your esophagus and went further down. Through winding tubes and whatever transformed that mash into something your baby could use. It sucked up the residuals in a form palatable for their development and satisfied that kick count for whatever high reaches it met today.

The basket was empty before your eyes rolled back from their journey to find your brain.

You must have put on quite the display from the state of your tablemates.

Coral was visibly shaking from withheld laughter. The only part of her facing you was her phone and it was clearly taking video. Eugene had fully stopped their challenge to outright gape with a full mouth. You skirted the wad to find Kaleb wearing a frown that was levied by how high his brows were. Even your mate, who had surely seen you at your absolute worst, was staring with uncharacteristically wide eyes per his public persona.

You meant to excuse yourself, but a small burp came out.

It was a feather light topping that offset the scales.

Everyone laughed.

Even Monica, who you had almost forgotten was privy to the party.

“A t-true g-glowing vi-vision!” Coral cackled as her phone shook.

“Give me a break!” You tried to take it.

She snatched it away. “Gross hands! No!”

“I’m not a dog!”

“Don’t eat like one then!”

You went to touch her shirt.

She shrieked.

“The time!” Kaleb suddenly shouted.

Eugene squeaked and dove back into his basket.

“18 minutes left.” Donnie remarked.

“What’re they at?” Kaleb turned back and forth.

“67.” Monica spoke, ready.

“Is that-!?” Kaleb continued to whip back and forth.

“Ahead of schedule.” Donnie said. 

“Oh! Fweh!” Kaleb sank into his chair, dropping all concern. “False alarm.”

With a full mouth, Eugene grunted out unintelligible complaints.

Your mouth was on fire.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, but breathing was becoming a bit of a curse. 

Each bout of life-sustaining oxygen fanned the embers on your tongue.

It hurt, but you loved the burn.

You thought about asking for another basket.

“Ugh.”

You could barely register what was happening before a napkin smashed into your mouth.

It was your turn to grunt into it.

“You’re drooling!” Coral wiped your chin.

“What the fuck!? I’m not a baby!?”

“Stop acting like one then!”

“Is this some ploy for godparentdom?!”

Coral buckled with guilt.

“Coral, you’re joking.”

“Ha! Ha! Yeah!” She curled away with your used napkin.

“It’s wasn’t a thing!”

“You put me with the hippo!!” She snapped.

“A mutant!” You swatted at her.

This time you made contact.

“This is not me being prejudiced! Don’t you hold that against me!”

“I am and I told you: it wasn’t that serious! Yes, we want godparents, but it was a spur of the moment decision! Mikey asked and I said the first people that came to mind!” 

“You don’t just pick based on feeling! I want you to pick me because it should be!”

“If you think it should be you, why are you mad?!” 

“I want to earn it!” 

“That doesn’t make sense!” 

“Yes! It does! It means something!”

“I know it does! Donnie and I have been discussing it!” 

“So you already decided!?”  

“I didn’t say that!” 

“Oscar the Grouch doesn’t discuss. He debates! I know what he thinks of me! He argued against me, I know it!” 

“World revolves around you, huh!? That wasn’t even on his mind!” 

“So now I’m not even worth considering!?” 

“Coral, I swear-!!!” 

“Final five!” Kaleb whooped, seemingly unaware.

You and Coral had hands on each other, but both turned in time to see Eugene take their first bite of the spiciest wings in the challenge.

You watched in slow motion.

Their lips hit the meat.

You had to lick your own vestiges.

Eugene tore away and chewed a single time before they appeared to light up.

In something out of a cartoon, you swore you watched the heat travel straight through their face where it bled steam out their ears.

“WHAT THE FUC-!?!” Eugene snorted and the lava must have gone elsewhere because their eyes went wild.

They scoured the table.

“No water!” Monica announced.

Eugene looked up with tears running down their face.

“I m-mean-!” Monica tittered nervously. “Of course, you can, but it would violate the rules of the-!”

“No water!” Kaleb slapped a hand down to the table. “You got this!”

Eugene turned the weepiness toward their captain.

“3 minutes.” Donnie added.

Eugene swallowed and it apparently went down like glass because they wheezed.

“Eu-gene! Eu-gene!” Kaleb started up a chant and stared expectantly across the table.

You and Coral unwove from one another to pump your fists and join the encouragement.

Donnie only joined in only after Monica participated.

Eugene wobbled through their 95 wing.

They sobbed through 96.

By 97 they were dry heaving.

98 came with another choking fit.

Their hands were quaking around 99.

Splatters of the sauce shot out threateningly from the shake.

You swore you could see them burn holes in the table.

Time moved slow and fast.

Eugene was out of pace.

The clock sped by while they lagged.

“10 seconds!” Monica suddenly yelled.

All of Eugene’s speed caught up with them and they deep-throated 99.

The ensuing wretch was heard around the restaurant.

They disappeared from their seat and the only marker of where they had gone was a sauce print on the wall.

The alarm clock beeped out the final time.

Instead of looking after Eugene, everyone looked down at the one untouched wing left in their basket.

The plea bargains came immediately.

“Throwing up is a caveat!”

“Where’s choking on your waiver?!”

“You cannot hold this against them!”

“It’s one wing!!”

As Monica’s hands lifted, the hostess who had set this in motion appeared.

“I’m sorry, everyone. Rules are rules…” She spoke law.

There were grumbles shared.

Eventually Monica departed.

Kaleb eventually coaxed Donnie up to go find Eugene.

Your husband shot you a look and you nodded for him to go.

There was a moment of silence for the failure.

Coral spoke as soon as the quiet set in.

“Wanna eat it?” Coral pointed to the final wing that had been Eugene’s demise.

“You eat it.”

“You were horfing these down a minute ago.”

“Like one through six, not the waiver ones.”

“I’m surprised the restaurant left it here.”

“Isn’t it a liability for the rest of us?”

“Totally must be.”

“Godparent duties if you eat it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, don’t be godmother.”

“Fuck you.”

You laughed.

“I do not care that you’re pregnant. That’s bullshit.”

“You never care.”

“I care about this and you’re being mean about it.” 

“Yeah, I don’t really get why.” 

“You don’t.” Coral leveled with you. 

Her look took your words. 

“You don’t.” She repeated with a different inflection. 

“You make me want to apologize.” You squirmed in your seat. 

“It should be obvious.” 

“Coral-”

“Yeah. I get it. It’s not.” She sighed. “Maybe I haven’t tried to talk to you enough. After we stopped doing the pilates together…” 

“You got a boyfriend…” 

She relented a little. “It’s not like I stopped caring.” 

“Of course.” 

“I want it. I’m not huge on kids, but this’ll be your kid. I’m in your corner, always have been. They’re gonna be a little extension of you. If anything happened to you…” 

You looked her over. 

“I’d do it right.” She decided. “Raising them how you’d want.” 

You gave her an earnest smile. 

She gave her usual awkward air at sincerity. 

You gave the moment time to breathe before ruining it for her sake. “Wiping my mouth and trying to get me a booster seat is not a great way to show it.”

“I did not!” She lit up at the shift. 

“You did!”

“There’s no booster seat for the current size of your ass.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Coral laughed maniacally.

You elbowed her.

She sent one right back.

Two calm seconds panned out before you were bumping each other’s chairs.

The scraping summoned a server who was clearly too scared to interrupt and ask if everything was alright.

They also spied the wing.

They turned tail for the kitchen.

“Last chance!” You pointed and almost got her eye.

She swatted you away at the last second. “Not on your unborn spawn!”

“Rules are rules!” You mocked.

“Who else besides Hypno!? I know you aren’t giving it to him with that husband of his!”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“I will because I’ll be stuck with them!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

The kitchen doors opened in a telling way.

You both went rigid as the cook came out and headed in your direction.

“Lick it and it’s yours!”

She sat out a beat and the man disappeared behind a pillar on the way.

You kept lookout.

“One lick!”

You watched her reach out.

A single digit emerged from the rest.

You waited for the bluff.

It never came.

She made contact and hid the sauce laden finger back on her person, just as the cook arrived.

“Apologies! Let me get this for you!” The man took only the one basket.

You both watched him go with the intent of prey animals before looking at where Coral had cradled her hand to her chest.

You heard her gulp.

You saw her shudder.

She inhaled deep to steady herself before bringing her hand up.

You caught her wrist before it got too close to her extended tongue. “I was joking!”

“You were?!” 

“Yeah! I didn’t think you would-! That sent someone to the hospital!”

“It’s pretty hard to tell!”

“I would not make you eat some death wing to make you my kid’s back-up plan!”

She pointed the poison at you.

You caught a napkin and wiped it away. “Careful!”

She frowned for a moment before it turned into a pout.

“You can ask.” You wadded up the napkin and safely tucked it away so no one might accidentally use it. “Officially.” 

“Does that mean-?”

“Of course, you’re the godmother.”

“Thank fuck!” She threw her arms up and lolled into her chair with a clanging of its legs.

“There’s two positions anyway!. Hypno was up for the other, you realized that, right?”

She made a face.

“What is with you?! I thought you liked him!”

“I do! I just-!” She made a disgruntled noise. “Like I don’t want it to be Nelson. He’s not cut out for it and also I feel like that’s us going too fast, but I guess I thought it would be… I don’t know…! That… your stupid hubby got his pick too. You too are always so gross with your shared grossness. He’s been branching out. Making friends and being almost a person, so…” Her mouth went as small as it could. “I know he’s not picking Hypno and he’s like… inspiring or… something… I guess…”

You blinked.

“It’s whatever! Goals! Ugh! Is that what you want to hear?!” She folded her arms.

“Goals… as in…?”

“You two! I don’t know!”

“Like…?”

“Like relationship. Through all the shit. It’s crazy how you two are. Parent goals. I wish my parents were one tenth of the Grinch.”

“The Grinch being Donnie.”

“Hell, I’ll take the cartoon guy. He treated that dog pretty well.”

“Coral…” You moved to hug her.

“Gross! Don’t!” She gave no actual resistance.

You had to twist your body to reach.

Gas moved.

You felt the bubble.

A harmless burp.

Until the bile chased it.

The noise you made was gaseous and made Coral actually flinch away.

“Oh shit, are you gonna throw up too?!”

“N-no!” You covered your mouth and could smell the spice.

It burned straight up as it mixed with the battery acid of your stomach.

“Ugh… Heartburn…” You choked it down and went for water.

“They have to have milk.” Coral looked around. “Or ice cream?”

“Yeah…” The acid retreated without the threat of coming out, though sometimes you wished it would.

Instead, you would be burping like this for the next few hours.

Or days based on the level of heat on those wings.

You didn’t curse your baby, but a small part of you groaned at its insistence on pain.

You burped again on your own terms to try to circumvent the next one and groaned.

“They’re avoiding us, I swear.” She looked around.

You sank back into your chair and felt the usual pressure of your bladder.

Getting up was going to exacerbate things.

There was no fighting it.

“I’ll be right back.” You told your companion.

“To throw up?” She checked earnestly.

“Nah, gonna pee. Get me ice cream though.”

“As soon as someone comes!” She huffed. “What flavor?”

“Vanilla’s fine.”

“I’ll see if they have better.”

You smiled and left. You sort of registered the others hadn’t returned, but focused more on the trip. You had to weave through tables and groups to get across the bar. There weren't any sports events that you knew were playing and the TVs seemed to confirm that. They sat on and useless, showing replays with sportscasters talking over smaller images. You paid them little mind as you found the break in the wall that clearly led to the restrooms.

Down the hallway leading to them, you saw the family stall was propped open and the sound of a tap running full steam leaked out.

“You okay, man?”

It was Kaleb’s voice and you slowed.

No one responded and the soft rush from the sink continued.

“I can’t be sure, but you’ve been weird since I mentioned the big guy…”

You didn’t chance peeking and only crept closer.

“Raph can crack bones with his jaw pressure right? I thought he’d be a beast with wings.” Kaleb went on. 

Even with the static, you heard the exhale of your husband.

“Something happened…” Kaleb spoke his realization. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t realize things had gone south again.”

“No… That’s not-” Donnie tried. 

Something beeped. “Switch eyes.”

You heard a babble of Eugene and the water pitch shifted as something was moved under it.

You really wished you could see.

“All good, we’ll get it all out. Just hang in there.” Kaleb ushered.

Eugene gurgled a response.

Your friend must have had their head in the sink.

“But, yeah. Sorry. I won’t bring him up again.” Kaleb continued.

“We… No…” Donnie struggled. “It was… me. I was excessively cruel.”

“I mean-”

“I was.” Donnie pressed.

Kaleb relented with a popped vowel.

“I don’t know what to do.” There was a thump against a wall.

“Yeah?”

“How do I…? How can I… apologize?”

“It’s not like they apologized to you.” Kaleb spoke knowingly.

“Raphael did.” Donnie said simply. “Raph…”

There was some quiet.

“He did.”

You heard a clap like a hand on a shoulder.

“Our acquaintance was fragile. No fixing disrepair.”

“From engineer to scientist, we both know that’s not true.”

You didn’t hear a response.

“It’s all about creative solutions in our line of work. So what are we thinking?”

“Kaleb…” Donnie sounded exhausted.

“I know you’ve thought of something.”

“It’s unreasonable. You understand unusable theory. Hypothesis best kept-”

“Donatello.”

Your mate went silent.

“Just hit me. Safe space. It’s a bathroom. The safest of spaces. Holiest of tiles!”

Eugene made an affirmative noise.

You could almost see Donnie taking in the definition and adding it to his notes on behavior.

You didn’t disagree, but you might amend that one.

“I would need a gesture. Something meaningful.”

“Mhm…”

“The godfather position…”

Only the water droned on.

“But that entails my child, mine, falling in with the Hamato! That can’t possibly-!”

“Raph… he’s… good with kids, right?”

Donnie said nothing.

“He runs those dojos. He, like, exclusively works with kids. We went to that one city-wide match. It was crazy. The kids loved him. The parents loved him.”

Eugene’s hair would have been soaked through.

“Didn’t he quit the family? I mean obviously he didn’t, but like he put his foot down. He’s had enough of it. I don’t know him like you, but I don’t know… I can see him… If something happened to you… giving up everything. Dropping it all to take on that new duty. I’m not vouching for it, you can do whatever, but it’s not that bad of an idea. It’s a big gesture. He goes soft at the slightest thing. You offer him this and he’s definitely going to cry. ”

There was quiet again and the rushing water was getting to you.

Your bladder ached.

You shifted stance to try to alleviate pressure.

It did little.

It rarely did these days.

Your limit was your limit.

“I admit I’ve… considered such…” Donnie murmured.

You pulled the closest bathroom door and ducked inside.

You checked and saw that there was a mechanism to close it quietly and did your business.

You emerged in time to see a soaked wet cat of Eugene send you a blood red glance.

“What happened?!” You quaked to fuss over them.

“Vomit in my eyes. I do not want to talk about it.” They glared as much as their swollen eyes could before continuing along and leaving drips behind.

“We got most of it.” Kaleb was next in line.

Donnie nodded and looked worn.

You smiled at him and he came to join you.

“You good? The wings get you?” Kaleb wondered, not put out by third-wheeling.

You slipped your arms through Donnie’s. “Nah, classic gotta pee business.”

“Truth.” Kaleb’s head bobbed and you headed back to the table.

Eugene was there with their face in a bowl of ice cream.

Each place setting had a specific scoop set and Coral smirked over her dominion.

“Nice!” You dropped down hard in your seat and grabbed a spoon.

Eugene sighed dreamily.

“They… good…? They look like shit.” Coral asked with a thrown thumb before she got eyes on Kaleb and Donnie. “Are you guys good? You look like shit too.”

Kaleb popped the wet prints on his shirt with pride before taking his ice cream bowl. “It’s called friendship. This is mine. Wiping drool is yours.”

“Like you were in the running! Shoe weirdo!” She teased.

“Do not besmirch cutie baby booties in front of my ice cream!” Kaleb pretended to cover his dish’s ears. “Don’t worry. Mean old Cor’ didn’t mean it.”

Coral rolled her eyes.

Donnie reviewed his ice cream like a child given some kind of consolation prize for being good at the dentist.

His metaphorical drilled tooth hurt too much to enjoy the treat.

You took your bite while toeing for him under the table.

His long legs weren’t too hard to find.

He looked up at you tepidly. 

You sent him a smile that held all your thoughts on the matter you had both discussed already.  He reviewed you with a steadying breath before moving to take a bite of his own.

💜 NEXT 💜

🎵I just want to celebrate ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉ my betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup 🎵

[transit-fag]

@renegade4-13 Here is the current draft for the story under the read more, not all characters have been introduced yet, but this is what I have written so far

Today is the 3rd Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other peculiar fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72$ to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How?

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Gold Hoop earings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is not is consise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a whisper rings through the air.

A tick of a second

And Bang, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from downtown the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues. Now in a hurry, she rushes to kick out the Brunch party and clean up the messes left behind in her diner today. She had to rush the 20 people ot for a rather simple reason, she needs money to run a diner and the train is what brings her the best customers each day. As the crowd of weirdos and homosexuals scurries away. One Slyvia Ink bumps right into a Jim Halder. The only man in the city who still knows their face.

Jim Halder is a professor at the University of Saltpeter and has 40 years of Tenure there, starting as a professor at 31, despite being in his 70s, he looks rather young, with a smooth face and deep black hair, this however is a lie. If you look closely at his hair, you’ll notice a long white steak and an indent on his face above his left eye. This is because Jim’s face is not his first, while studying in the mines of Saltpeter, his face was burned off, and a new wooden one had to be constructed by Sylvia Ink, one of the only 4 things they ever made that wasn’t a fountain pen, the other 3 are another less lifelike mask, the hilt of a blade, and pen holder to hold their pens. Jim is a man of learning, giving every book he writes to the library after he publishes it, 14 of the books that are currently checked out were donated by him. If you were to inspect Jim closely you would also find that you could knock him over quite easily with a single punch due to his slim frame. The university that he works at is not considered a cultural institution by even the most generous people in Saltpeter because nothing of interest has been produced in the for 67 years. Well apart from Sylvia Ink and Jim Halder, and their incredible works of course, the two little wooden people of Saltpeter.

Jim was naturally surprised to see Sylvia at the station, but glad nonetheless to see that young fellow out of the workshop. When they bumped into each other, quite literally, as Sylvia had been too focused on a croissant to notice the man ahead of him. He proposed to the young carpenter that they go over to the old river park for a stroll to discuss the terms for the new project.

Despite being a chilly 50 degrees out, if you were to head across town from the rail station, over to the river. You will find 2 men on the banks of the river. One is sitting in a rather large Sycamore tree, reading a book, when he hears the train rush past. He is wearing a blue sweater and long pants, the other man is dressed quite poorly for the weather, he is wearing nothing but a swimsuit and his golden locks of hair. He stupidly planned on Swimming in the river today. He is 6 feet tall and somehow not freezing. These peculiar fellows meant to be at the brunch but the one in the Sweater, Alex Cela had set his pocket watch 3 hours behind. Even knowing this now, he was still caught off guard by the train crossing over the river since the train had not been early in 3 months. Despite being totally different, one a bit of an idiot and the other a top marks student at the University of Saltpeter, they have been dating for 2 months, and six days if either had remembered to keep track of that. They met at the park, Alex was trying to paint the trains and Damien had been trying to teach a cat how to swim, the pair of them instantly became friends after Alex stopped trying to attack Damien for ruining the painting. And the two started dating a week after they met, when Damien kissed Alex under an Oak tree in the town square. These 2 lovers were not however the only people in the park. There were about 400 give or take 27 people in that park on this chilly morning. But none of them Matter, None of them except for Emily Rock

[coldbrewghoul]

From Top to Bottom - Richtofen University AU

Chapter 18: Kinematics and Dynamics

Christmas isn't the only thing coming this year as the group enjoys a holiday party.

Notes: POV swap: Reader (X) and Edward Richtofen (Primis) | both characters are switches | hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, mutual pining, smut heavy plot | This started as a one shot, but I couldn't walk away from it so it's been expanded into a full work.

TW: age gap, situationally inappropriate relationship

-Richtofen-

“Dempsey, she’s going to say yes. Stop panicking.” He sighed, leaning back against a tree while Tank paced back and forth in front of him. The winter morning air found its way through the sweatshirt he wore for running and he wanted to be back at his desk with (y/n) where it was warm.

“I know she’s going to say yes, but it has to be perfect. Girls are crazy about proposals. When she’s sitting around drinking… I don’t know, mimosas or something… with a group of girlfriends who all start talking about how their guys proposed she’s gotta have a good story.” Tank had been ranting for the last fifteen minutes, rethinking his plan because it wasn’t big enough.

“It will be fine. You’ve been practicing your speech, ja?” In normal circumstances Edward would be teasing the American for the complete lack of the confidence and ego he normally exhibited, but now didn’t seem like the time.

“What if I forget?”

“Then… improvise?” Richtofen pushed off from the tree and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “She loves you. You love her. Stop making it more complicated than that.”

“That’s rich from you. You manage to complicate everything,” Tank smirked, seeming to gain some of his normal (annoying) composure back. “We should… probably finish our run?”

“Ja.” Richtofen sighed, regretting ever agreeing to be dragged out into the cold for a “light jog.” He appreciated that cardio was important for the body, but what Tank called a “light jog” was really a grueling hour and a half race around the town with a brief break at the local park midway. This conversation could have been had during a comfortable drive around the beautiful countryside…

Dempsey set a brutal pace back to the apartment with Richtofen stubbornly keeping up. When they got home Lea, ever the caretaker type, handed them two glasses of water with a firm order to hydrate. He would miss having her around when they finally got their own places – it was extremely convenient to have his and (y/n)’s nutrition provided for considering how distracted both of them got by their work.

The girls had been hard at work decorating the apartment for the party. Gold tinsel and white lights had been strung around the edge of the ceiling, candles filling the surfaces to provide a soft glow to everything. Tank and Richtofen had been tasked with putting up the tree earlier in the week while Lea managed them from the couch, stringing up popcorn to add for decoration. (y/n) had painted round ornaments to resemble the different planets of their solar system and labeled the candy canes C10H20O to put on the tree. Tank had tried to put a football at the top of the tree, but was unanimously outvoted. Richtofen was already sure that this would be his favorite Christmas, and it was only the eve.

He pulled (y/n) away from her work in the kitchen of stirring brownie mix to kiss her. The way she sighed and leaned into him every time he touched his lips to hers never got old. He wondered if, years down the road, would she still react the same way? She showed she adored him with every look, every touch, and he wanted to experience that forever. “How was your run?”

“It was miserable,” he said with an icy look at Tank who was similarly distracting Lea from her cookie baking. “I’m going to go claim the shower before Dempsey can use up all the hot water.”

She smiled. “Lea will probably have me helping her cook all afternoon. I don’t know how many people she thinks she’s feeding. This is going to be way too much food for just the four of us.”

“Leftovers!” Lea interjected, giggling as she fought Tank for the whisk he was holding above her head. Truly, she had no chance of getting it until he lowered it – their height difference was much too extreme considering how short Lea was.

Edward kissed (y/n) one last time before going to shower.

-X-

You slaved over the meal preparations with Lea all day until the sun began to set and she shooed you away to go get cleaned up. The boys were already dressed; Tank happy in an ugly Christmas sweater and Edward in black slacks with a crisp white shirt – he refused to wear the sweater Lea had gotten him (an ugly thing with a Christmas tree and bells). Lea was already in her green party dress, looking absolutely adorable with the apron she wore to protect it while cooking. You had waited till after you were done helping with dinner to change into the red slip dress you’d chosen for the evening. It was worth the look on Edward’s face when you walked out, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his eyes darkening…

You all sat down at the table to eat and Lea stood to make a toast, but Tank stood up as well. Lea looked at him with a confused smile. He took the glass out of her hand, placing it on the table before grabbing both her hands and kneeling in front of her. “Lea McHuck…” he started and already tears were springing up in her eyes (and yours) as it became clear his intentions.

“…you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are everything I never knew I needed and more. Your kindness, the way you care for those around you, and the patience you show me every day…” Tank had to stop for a moment, swallowing to contain his emotion. “I can’t imagine my life without it and I want to spend every day taking care of you, appreciating you and loving you. Will you marry me?”

He pulled the ring box out of his pocket and popped it open. There was a flash and you looked to see Richtofen holding a polaroid camera he’d had hidden when he sat down. Lea tried to speak and choked for a moment, trying to compose herself before she could form words. “Yes!”

Tank beamed at her as he slid the ring on her finger and then grabbed her around the waist as he stood up, twirling her in a circle before setting her down. They kissed and you frantically tried to blink the tears of happiness away as your heart swelled for the both of them. “Congratulations,” Edward said, his voice coming out a little hoarse.

“Yes! Congratulations!!!” You exclaimed as they both sat down, holding hands.

“Did you know?” Lea accused her friend, using her napkin to dab her tears.

“No!”

Richtofen handed them the polaroid and Lea looked at it before clutching it to her heart. The two kissed again and this time Edward stood up, champagne glass held up. “To friends, to love, and most especially, to you two. Merry Christmas.”

Everyone clinked glasses and soon dinner was underway, the conversation flowing easily. You looked around at everyone at the table and was sure this was the best Christmas Eve you had ever experienced. After dinner, the men cleaned up as usual while Lea set up poker and desserts in the living room. You busied yourself with finding a good radio station for Christmas music and setting up the liquor station next to the tv.

“This dress is begging to be stripped off of you,” Edward whispered in your ear, having snuck up behind you.

You swung around and into his arms, tilting your chin up to accept the hungry kiss he pressed to your lips. He nipped your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp that he used to gain access to kiss you deeper, his tongue grazing your teeth and mingling with yours. The way his hands grasp your body needily, his fingers pressing into your skin through the soft fabric of your dress has you moaning and pressing into him, clutching his collar.

“We’re still here, ya know,” Tank teased, claiming a spot on the couch.

Lea stuck a cookie in his mouth to shut him up, sitting on his lap. “Shush, let them put on a show for us.”

“I don’t mind them watching if you don’t,” Edward chuckled, his eyes dancing, but he pulled away. You hid the flush in your cheeks by grabbing the drinks you prepared for everyone and serving them out. Lea dealt out cards and chips, starting with a game of seven card stud.

Dempsey was frustratingly good at poker, but Edward and you weren’t losing nearly as badly as Lea (who was absolutely terrible and only got worse as she started getting tipsy). After a few hands and Edward getting increasingly frustrated you saw him focus in, tapping his leg with two fingers in what seemed to be some sort of pattern. After a dozen hands and his rate of winning going up it finally dawned on you that it was some version of Morse code, not the International one, but something close…and he was counting cards. You thought about calling him out on it, but seeing Tank getting fired up at the competition you decided not to snitch.

After about halfway through the twenty-fifth game, Lea had run out of chips. “I don’t have anything to bet! How are all of you so good at this?” She whined. Thinking for a moment, she took off a heel and placed it on the pile of chips on the coffee table. “There.”

“That heel is going to be mine!” You and Tank looked at each other as both of you exclaimed the same thing at the exact same time.

“I’m winning that heel, missy. You should just give up now,” Tank growled, pushing the required chips in to keep playing.

“No way. I’ve been eyeing that pair since we became roommates. I’m winning that one and the other one she’s going to have to put in eventually,” you said firmly, tossing your bet in and glaring at him.

“What am I supposed to do with her heel?” Edward complained, dealing out the next cards.

“We should all play strip poker! Chips are stupid anyway.” Lea declared.

“I’m down. I want that dress too. It’s adorable,” you agreed, taking a sip of your cranberry cocktail.

“Okay, it’s decided. Whoever loses with the lowest hand has to give the highest hand an article of clothing. Loser chooses, BUT! You must give and receive the clothing with your lips. You can fold, but every other time you fold you are considered to have the lowest hand that round.”

“You better not get teeth marks in my new heels,” you teased.

“I’m sorry, do we get a say in this?” Edward asked.

“No!” Both you and Lea yelled. Before either of the men could protest further Lea grabbed their chip piles and scooped them haphazardly into a pile. “See, you don’t have any chips so now you have to bet clothes.”

The men shared a look. You tried to analyze what was happening as Richtofen raised his eyebrow and Tank shrugged. It was like there was some understanding happening that you weren’t privy to as they nodded once at each other. Lea was snatching cards out of people’s hands and setting up a fresh game. You noticed she also took her heel back, which was a pity because you had a solid King/Seven full house.

The first game was… weird. Edward was still counting cards and folded despite having a pair face up. Tank folded shortly afterwards, and it was down to just Lea and you. You ended up winning with a Queen high card. Lea sighed and carefully put the side of her heel between her teeth. You were already blushing as she crawled over to you, getting in close so you could take it from her. Carefully, you placed a hand on her cheek to steady both of you and leaned in, grasping the other edge of the heel with your teeth. The air felt thick, and both men were watching intently. Lea let go of the heel and sat back down, collecting the cards and reshuffling. There was quiet for a moment as you took the heel out of your mouth and placed it on the floor next to you.

“Five card draw!” Lea called, breaking the silence as she dealt out cards.

The next round you had the lowest hand and Tank won with a three of a kind. You looked at Edward to make sure he was okay as you put your black heel in your mouth. He nodded and you moved awkwardly, having to place a hand on Tank’s knee to give him your heel. The coach was blushing, and you weren’t sure if the flush came from the alcohol or your closeness.

Tank dealt for seven card stud and Lea folded almost immediately, happily taking a drink of her spiked eggnog. When the boys weren’t looking, she mouthed “Fold!” to you. You raised an eyebrow, and she mirrored your expression, subtly pointing to the two boys. Ah. You saw her plan. Had that been what the boys did to you two in the first round? You folded and both men looked at each other awkwardly.

Edward lost, sighing as he stripped off his sock. “I regret not wearing shoes now…”

“A pair of socks only counts as one. Who cares about socks?” Lea made the claim as she brought Tank another beer.

“Is it too late to go put my slippers on?” Tank asked as he counted the number of clothes he was wearing on his fingers and only came up with six. Edward leaned over him with the top of his socks between his teeth. Tank had to choose between the bottom of the socks or the top close to Richtofen’s mouth. Carefully, he grabbed the cloth with his teeth, mere inches from the other man’s face.

The next few games you relinquished your second heel to Tank, Lea lost her second heel to Tank and then had to strip off her pantyhose for Edward. Your breath caught as she almost stumbled and he caught her. Were you jealous? Maybe, but seeing him holding her while he carefully took the pantyhose from her lips made warmth coil in your lower stomach. You chanced a glance at Tank, and he had a conflicted look on his face as he adjusted how he was sitting.

Edward folded as soon as a second king was put down in your face up cards during seven card stud and smirked at you, crooking his finger to beckon you as you tried to shift your panties off without exposing anything. You were down to one article of clothing now, your dress. You made a point of slowly crawling over to him to kneel between his legs when you offered the red lace in your teeth. He grasped your hair to tilt your head up to his so he could place his lips against yours and bite down on the fabric. As soon as you let go with your teeth, he dropped the panties so they were out of his way and he could kiss you, punishing your mouth with his lips until you moaned. When he pulled away you swallowed, biting your lip in embarrassment when you saw Lea and Tank watching you two with heavy lidded eyes.

Lea lost again after that, having to debate between her dress or underwear. Complaining it was hot she had Tank help unzip her dress before bringing it to Edward. He kept his eyes on you as he brought his mouth close to hers, not quite touching her lips as he bit the satin. You almost wish he’d gotten closer, the thought of getting to see his seduction tactics while not being distracted by them endlessly appealing.

Tank lost twice in a row to Edward, first bringing him the ugly Christmas sweater, but the second time was much more eventful. He stripped off his t-shirt, exposing thick muscles and well-defined abs. Before he could bring the prize to the victor, Lea grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him to her so she could lick the muscles above his hips. Then she shoved him Edward’s way. “There ya go, I warmed him up for you.”

-Richtofen-

 Tank was definitely blushing as he leaned in, t-shirt between his teeth. Edward searched his eyes for any sign of discomfort as he moved slowly to receive his prize. He hadn’t wanted to admit it when the thought arose before, but especially in these circumstances it was hard to deny that Tank Dempsey was a handsome man. Tank watched him as Edward placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble with his thumb as he moved his mouth until their lips touched. The American didn’t back away and when he let go of the fabric he stayed for a moment before pulling away, clearing his throat and looking at Edward as if seeing him in a new light.

Edward grabbed the shirt from between his teeth and dropped it, trying not to reveal to anyone that he was fighting to keep his breath steady. It was not the first time he’d kissed a man, but he would place a large bet that it was Tank’s first time. Lea whistled, breaking the tension: “You two can do that again any time you like… Just let me watch.”

“I think—” Tank had to clear his throat again before continuing. “I think it’s my turn to deal.”

Edward lost the game of Texas Hold ‘Em to Lea and when he brought her his shirt she looked at (y/n), who shrugged. Lea grabbed him by his neck and pulled him in, pressing her lips to his as her teeth grabbed the fabric of his shirt. Tank, who was now rubbing his lips thoughtfully with his thumb, reached to move her hair from her face so he could get a better view.

Both men had known exactly where this game was leading as soon as Lea had suggested it and nodded their agreement, but now that it was happening… it wasn’t happening quick enough. So when (y/n) lost to Tank the next round, Edward decided to speed things up a bit. “Let Dempsey take your dress off you,” he ordered, quietly. Lea, in her bra and underwear, nodded excitedly at her fiancé, biting her lip in excitement.

(y/n) stood up obediently and Dempsey came up behind her. Edward felt his blood rush south as Tank locked eyes with him and pulled her zipper down slowly, bringing his mouth to her shoulder and grazing her skin with his lips up to below her ear. She shivered, her eyes fluttering. Dempsey made a show of slipping the dress down slowly until it crumpled at her feet, leaving her completely naked as he nipped her ear.

“Kiss her,” Lea whispered, her fingers tracing over her chest in a caress while she watched.

The two standing looked at Edward and he nodded, idly stroking himself through his slacks. Dempsey tilted (y/n)’s chin so she was looking over her shoulder at him and brought his lips to hers, his other hand moving to cup one of her breasts. He kissed her until he had to pull away so she could catch her breath. He raised an eyebrow to Edward, “You gonna take care of my lady for me or are you just going to watch as I play with yours?”

Edward nodded, moving to Lea. She leaned in to kiss him, but he grabbed her jaw and pointed her face towards Dempsey and (y/n). “Watch,” he commanded, letting go to strip her underwear off and diving between her legs. She moaned, already wet and ready for attention. Dempsey was directing (y/n) to the couch, laying her down so her head was practically in Lea’s lap and unzipping his jeans. She reached back to lace her fingers in his hair as he licked and explored Lea with his fingers. He could hear wet noises followed by (y/n) moaning. He tried to watch from the corner of his eyes as Dempsey pulled his fingers from between her legs and put them into Lea’s mouth, who moaned and sucked them greedily.

Edward felt a small squeeze of possessiveness as Tank shifted his hips forward, letting out a groan and making (y/n) gasp, but that was quickly washed away when Lea used his hair to move his head over (y/n)’s so she could watch them kiss, sharing the taste of her. Lea shifted to move around him, standing up. “It’s your turn to watch,” she said playfully, waiting till he sat down and helping him with his slacks.

She sucked on him while he watched Dempsey thrusting into (y/n), one hand resting on Lea’s head and the other on (y/n)’s throat. When Dempsey leaned over to get a deeper angle, Edward leaned in and pressed his lips to the other man’s, who hesitated, before kissing back. When they parted Dempsey groaned. “Fuck you’re good at that…”

Lea, while attentive at her job, did not go about it with the same vigor that he’d become used to from (y/n) so he gently pulled her hair to remove her mouth from his cock and repositioned so she could sit on his lap. Positioning her over him, he once again grabbed her jaw and moved her face so she could kiss Dempsey as he pushed her hips down to enter her. The two men ended up matching pace, watching as Lea stroked (y/n)’s face, tracing her lips while both girls moaned.

Dempsey was starting to become erratic with his thrusts and (y/n) found Edward’s hand on Lea’s hips, grabbing it and squeezing as she cried out. Dempsey pulled out quickly, his cum spilling over her abdomen, using his thumb to rub her clit gently as she settled from her orgasm. This time it was Tank that initiated the kiss, leaning in to press his lips to Edward’s, their tongues dancing together. Between the kiss and Lea clenching around him as she orgasmed, Edward had to fight not to cum as well. He let Lea finish her orgasm before shifting her off him, taking some deep breaths to calm down. Lea moved to clean up Dempsey and (y/n) with her tongue, licking the cum and juice off them both.

When Dempsey moved away, Lea took his place, burying her face between (y/n)’s legs. Both men watched, cock in hand, as Lea worked (y/n)’s cunt, drawing out low moans. Edward had to stop stroking himself before the moans and sight alone made him cum, he wanted to hold out until (y/n) was in his arms. He put his hand on (y/n)’s throat, squeezing slightly until he saw her eyes roll back and she cried out as her hips thrust up. Gasping for air she looked up at him, eyes filled with lust and love. He leaned down to kiss her and when he pulled away Lea crawled up to take a turn at her mouth.

Tank grabbed Lea by the waist, picking her up and sitting down with her in his lap, back to him. “Mind helping me with her, sweetheart?” He asked (y/n), reaching around Lea’s front to shift her onto his cock. Edward gestured for her to join them, and she did, kneeling between both their thighs and licking from the base of Tank’s cock to Lea’s clit before sucking and licking while they began to move. Edward got behind (y/n) and entered her, watching grip onto Lea’s thighs for support as he began thrusting, hard, barely able to contain how good it felt to finally be inside her after everyone else had gotten to have their fun with his toy.

Lea orgasmed quickly from all the attention, one hand gripping (y/n)’s hair and the other reaching back to run her fingers through Tank’s short cut. Tank wasn’t done with her yet, having orgasmed earlier, he continued to pump into her. The men’s eyes met, and both grinned at each other, their pace quickening. (y/n) moaned, the sound stifled by the fact that her mouth was pressed where the other two connected, as Edward finally allowed himself to finish. He reached around to play with her clit until she climaxed, her walls squeezing the last drops of cum from his cock. Tank groaned as his hips jolted, losing their rhythm. (y/n) licked the cum that dripped out between them until they both settled.

Lea lounged back against Tank’s chest, sighing happily. “That was lovely.”

Edward pulled (y/n) into his arms, kissing her and licking the leftover cum off her chin. Tank watched with heavy lidded eyes, a content smile on his face. “I didn’t realize…how fun it would be to share.”

 “Me either,” he chuckled before whispering in (y/n)’s ear: “I think I like watching you cum while other people play with you.”

She shivered against him as the air from his lips brushed against her skin. “I think I like performing for you,” she whispered back.

“Let’s clean up tomorrow, I’m absolutely beat,” Lea said. Tank shifted her so he was holding her bridal style and stood up.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said, nodding at the other two and taking her to the bedroom.

Edward watched them leave, definitely not checking out Dempsey’s ass as they walked away. (y/n) pulled away to blow out the candles and turn off lights. “I am also ‘absolutely beat,’” she sighed, “Ready for bed?”

He stood up to join her. “Oh, I am definitely ready for bed, but not for sleep.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Having you all to myself and doing whatever I want to you,” he growled, pulling her in for a quick kiss before twirling her to face the bedroom and smacking her ass to get her moving. She gasped, but spread her legs eagerly when she got in bed. He fucked her relentlessly, making her scream his name late into the night whenever he pulled his hand from her throat to allow her to breath. When the clock struck midnight, he kissed her passionately. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, working her clit until she came, his orgasm following hers.

[aarcanechaoss]

Two: Dancing Queen

Masterlist

Song: Dancing Queen

Warnings: NONE

Notes: Noelle is the Dancing Queen

Also it’s Christmas Eve here when this is published so HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Noelle awoke from her nap with a jolt, music was blaring throughout the Black Bulls base- a tune that was… familiar?

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life

See that girl, watch that scene, diggin' the dancing queen

Without a second thought Noelle was up and down the stairs heading outside- the music getting louder as she did.

Friday night and the lights are low

Looking out for the place to go

Where they play the right music, getting in the swing

You come in to look for a king

Family black streaked silver hair came into view, Selene, beside her was Rowan with his warm ochre skin and low rumbling voice and Tristan with his gold-white hair shining bright under the afternoon sun.

Tristan and Selene were in the Golden Dawn- Rowan in the Black Bulls with herself but… why were they singing?

Anybody could be that guy

Night is young and the music's high

With a bit of rock music, everything is fine

You're in the mood for a dance

And when you get the chance

The trio turned her way, the rest of the squad doing so too- revealing a very pretty cake.

You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen

Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life

See that girl, watch that scene, diggin' the dancing queen

The trio rushed forwards, placing a paper crown on Noelle’s head, her pezzottaite eyes welling with tears.

It was her birthday… and she had forgotten it.

But they hadn’t.

You're a teaser, you turn 'em on

Leave them burning and then you're gone

Looking out for another, anyone will do

You're in the mood for a dance

And when you get the chance

Selene grabbed Noelle’s hands, spinning the royal around until Vanessa caught her, handing her to Charmy, then Finral, then Magna and Luck, to Nero and Gray, past Gauche (who was dancing with Marie- when did she get here?).

Then Fana was with her (them growing to be friends slowly) and Meroleona, then Mimosa and Kirsch. Even Fuegoleon spun her around for a moment- passing Zora and her siblings who didn’t look happy to be there.

Noelle spied the other Elves far off with the other Captain’s just as Asta passed her to Yami who hoisted her till she was sat on his shoulder, looking at the group who’d come to celebrate her seventeenth birthday.

You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen

Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life

See that girl, watch that scene, diggin' the dancing queen

[abovethemists]

To Have and to Hold - Final Chapter

Summary: After five years of marriage, Belle and Gold have hit a rough patch. However, their plans to separate are put on hold due to a shotgun wedding and three weeks of utter chaos.

A/N: I finished something! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5)

Read it on AO3

*

By mid morning, they had started to panic.

In the ten minutes it took Alasdair to get dressed and go after Neal, he had seemingly vanished from Storybrooke. He wasn’t answering any of their calls and after thinking to check, Belle realized his phone was still plugged in on his bedside table.

“Great,” she said as she stepped back into the hall where Emma was looking anxious. “He could be anywhere.”

Emma shook her head.

“He’s probably with August or Will or one of his other friends. He wouldn’t just bail on me. I know it.”

Belle nodded, trying to be supportive. But she knew how badly Alasdair and Milah’s divorce had affected Neal. Couple that with pre wedding jitters and…well, she hated to think about it.

“What do you want to do?” she asked Emma.

“Go to my mom’s,” Emma said with a decisive nod. “We’ve got enough going on without provoking the beast.”

Belle quickly got dressed and gave Emma a ride back to the Nolan’s. On the drive they decided not to tell Mary Margaret about any of the morning’s events. She was likely to be stressed enough as it was. But upon entering the farmhouse, Belle found a mimosa shoved into her hand and a large group of women assembled, talking and laughing to a soundtrack of pop music as if it was a bachelorette party.

“There she is!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, swanning into the living room. “My baby girl, the bride! Oh, look at you. You’re so beautiful.”  

Emma looked down at her jeans and tank top, then glanced aside at Belle who shrugged.

“How many of those have you had?” Emma asked, nodding her head at Mary Margaret’s own champagne glass.

“Just enough to take the edge off,” Mary Margaret said brightly. “I made you a virgin mimosa.”

“Oh, so orange juice,” Emma deadpanned.

Mary Margaret ignored her, turning to Belle. “How did last night go?” she asked in a sing-song voice.

Belle glanced around at the crowd of women, most of whom she didn’t know well.

“Um,” she said, taking a sip of mimosa to buy some time.

Mary Margaret winked at her. “I saw the way Mr. Gold was eyeing you all night. My advice did the trick, didn’t it?”

Emma was looking between the two of them with disgust on her face.

“I need coffee,” she said, walking off toward the kitchen.

“Decaf only, young lady!” Mary Margaret yelled after her before moving further into the living room, dancing along to the music and sloshing champagne and orange juice on the hardwood floors.

Belle just watched her, wondering if the morning could go any more off script. Mary Margaret hadn’t said a word about them being over an hour late. A few of the bridesmaids were having their hair and makeup done in the downstairs bathroom and Belle was informed it would be her turn next. She smiled tightly. The last thing she was concerned about was her hair.

A few minutes later, Emma came back to the living room, blowing on her cup of coffee.

“I have no idea what happened to momzilla. Who is this calm, loopy, lady?”

“I gave her a valium,” said Lily, Emma’s maid of honor, stepping out of the bathroom with her hair freshly curled.

Emma and Belle swung around to look at her.

“What!?” Emma exclaimed. “You drugged my mother!”

“What’s the big deal? It’ll just calm her down a little. You should have seen her first thing this morning when you weren’t here. I thought she was gonna have a panic attack.”

“And she’s drinking on top of that? Is she going to be able to stand up by wedding time?”

Lily just shrugged, not a care in the world. “I’ll carry her to her seat if I need to. Enjoy your day, Emma.”

She gave her a wink before continuing on and Emma looked at Belle with a worried expression.

“I guess she won’t panic about Neal?” she said, the end of her sentence going up into a question.

“Yeah,” Belle said. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go check in on Alasdair.”

She excused herself to the front porch, setting her mimosa down on the railing and calling her husband.

“Any sign of him?” she asked, as soon as he picked up.

“No,” Gold growled out. “I checked Granny’s, the shop, the high school, even the Rabbit Hole. He’s nowhere to be found.”

“Well he couldn’t have gone far,” she reassured him. “His car is still at the house.”

“Perhaps he caught a bus out of town?”

“In his pajamas,” Belle said flatly.

“Well, I don’t know. You saw the mood he was in this morning. He probably doesn’t want to be found.”

Belle nodded.

“I’ll call Will,” she said, and she heard Alasdair grunt on the other end of the line. “Oh come on,” she said with an eye roll. “After last night you can’t possibly still be jealous.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Well your son is probably with him.”

“Fine,” Alasdair said shortly.

“Hey,” she said, feeling slightly nervous. “We haven’t been able to talk this morning. Are we…”

“We’re okay,” he returned, his voice softening.

“Okay,” Belle repeated. What exactly did that mean?

“Call Will,” Alasdair said. “I’ve got a few other places to check.”

A quick call to a very sleepy and obviously hungover Will yielded no results. He hadn’t seen Neal since the night before. Neal’s other groomsmen proved just as helpful.

Belle checked her watch. It was already noon. Then Ruby poked her head out on the porch to tell Belle it was her turn for hair and makeup.

Thirty minutes later her hair had been twisted up into an elegant knot, and her makeup was ready for the runway. Belle didn’t think she’d ever worn so much in her life, not even for her own wedding. It wasn’t her style, but it also didn’t matter.

She found Emma, who was being oohed and ahhed over by the assorted women as they all passed around her wedding dress on a satin hanger and pulled her aside.

“Did you find Neal?” she asked under her breath, her eyes looking strained.

Belle shook her head. “Not yet, but we will. I’m going to go help Alasdair look, alright?”

Emma nodded, still looking worried, and Belle excused herself from the festivities.

“Aw, Belle,” Mary Margaret called after her. “You have to stay! We’re going to play a game!” She shook a box with neon pink writing that claimed to be an adult themed party game.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a shake of her head. “Gotta help the groom. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

"Buzz kill!" Mary Margaret shouted after her.

*

Belle felt like she was constantly checking the time and wishing to God it would slow down. The wedding was in six hours. Now five. Neal was going to stand Emma up and ruin his life and relationship and it was all her fault. If they’d just told Neal the truth all those weeks ago, when he’d first come home to tell them about the engagement, they could have avoided all of this. But she hadn’t wanted to admit their marital issues aloud. If only she could go back in time even further, to last July and the blow up fight she’d had with Alasdair. If only she could keep herself from saying such hurtful things. If only Alasdair had told her how badly she’d wounded him.

But there was no use wishing for things that would never be.

After combing the streets in her Volvo with no sight of Neal, Belle met Gold back at the house, getting out of her car just as he pulled up in the Cadillac.

“He’s not at the cabin,” Gold said with a grimace, getting his cane beneath him as he stepped out of the car. “Not that I expected him to be, but it was the last place I could think to look.”

Belle let out a sigh.

“It’s a small town, Alasdair, there’s only so many places he could be.”

“I’m all ears if you have suggestions.”

“Did you check in with Milah?” Belle asked.

Gold leveled her with a look.

Belle let out a sigh of frustration.

“Look, she’s his mother. He may have gone to see her.”

“The very person responsible for the trauma he’s dealing with right now?”

“One of the people,” she said sweetly.

Alasdair’s mouth had flattened into a very grim line, and Belle shook her head.

“Let’s not act like we’re not all a little responsible for this,” she said. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe we should have told Neal about our split from the beginning instead of keeping it a secret. Maybe he could have talked some sense into us before we made ourselves miserable for months.”

Alasdair’s face softened and he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re not to blame, Belle. You only wanted to protect Neal, to make sure his wedding day was a happy one. I’m the one he’s angry with.”

Belle reached out a hand to take Alasdair’s free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’ll be alright,” she said. “As long as we find him before 6:00, that is.”

“Right,” Alasdair said with a nod. “I suppose I’m off to speak to Milah then.”

Belle gave him an encouraging smile.

“I’ll keep looking around town in the meantime.”

She turned to head back to her car, but Alasdair caught her hand in his own.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her back around to him.

“For what?” she asked, confused.

“For loving my son,” he said with a little nod. “You didn’t…you didn’t have to be a mother to him, but you have been. From the very first. I know we couldn’t have a child of our own, and it’s a pity Belle. Because you’re the best mother I can imagine.”

Belle blinked, not wanting to let the tears fall and ruin Ruby’s hard work on her makeup.

“Of course,” she said. Because what else could she do?

His thumb rubbed against her palm and Belle stepped closer. Everything between them was still so uncertain. She needed confirmation, something that would show her they were on the right track. Gold’s eyes were tracing over her face, from her coiffed hair to her red lips.

“You look very pretty,” he said, and Belle couldn’t help but blush. She’d become unaccustomed to compliments.

“I feel like a Sephora exploded on my face.”

Gold looked confused.

“It’s just a lot of makeup,” she explained.

“Ah, well, you certainly don’t need it. But you look lovely all the same.”

He bent his head, kissing her cheek lightly, making sure not to disturb her makeup and then pulled away with a wink.

“I’d better find Neal, because I certainly plan on dancing with you tonight.”

Belle let out a startled laugh. “I look forward to it.”

With one last kiss pressed to her knuckles, Gold went back to the Cadillac, turning it in the direction of Granny’s B&B.

Belle stared up at the pink Victorian. With any luck, she’d be moving her stuff back in soon enough. Well, what little she’d managed to move out. Their separation that had caused so much pain and heartache all seemed so arbitrary in hindsight. She’d never even managed to move the bulk of the things in her closet.

With that in mind, she darted inside to get her dress for the wedding, just in case they found Neal at the last possible second and she had to get dressed on the fly. It was simple, a dark blue a-line dress with delicate cap sleeves. She had a pair of peep toe shoes that went perfectly with it and she scrounged the shoe rack at the back of the closet for them. With a groan, she realized she’d forgotten them back at her apartment, another inconvenience of her short separation.

Belle checked the time again. It was 2:00. The wedding party was supposed to all be at the Magus Mansion by 4:30 for photos before the ceremony. At this rate, she wouldn’t have time to change.

Well, she could do so at her apartment. She’d take the dress over, grab her shoes, get fully ready for the wedding, and with any luck Neal would have come to his senses by then and turned up none the worse for the wear.

The library was closed for the day, a concession to the wedding festivities. The caretaker's apartment was located at the back of the library, a heavy metal door guarding the concrete stairwell that had maimed her suitcase. Belle hadn't been by the apartment in the past few days, and she was surprised to find the stairwell door unlocked and propped open slightly. On edge, she crept up the stairs, wondering if perhaps she should call the sheriff. It wasn't as though anyone had been squatting there while it laid empty for five years. She had found the dusty little apartment exactly as she'd left it. The apartment door was similarly unlocked, and it swung open with the barest push as she stood in the doorway, holding her breath.  But the sight that met her inside made her sigh in relief.

Neal was sitting on her squashy little sofa, a lone shadow in the dark apartment. His v-neck t-shirt and plaid pajama pants were a far cry from the way he should be dressed at this hour and the expression on his face was anything but that of an excited groom. She flicked the overhead light on and Neal winced at the sudden brightness.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Something about a wedding and a runaway groom.”

Neal looked up at her with his big brown eyes, so similar to his father’s, but said nothing.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked, motioning around at the apartment. “How did you even get in?”

“Hide A Key is in the same place,” Neal said flatly, holding up a small silver key.

Belle cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t know there was a hide a key,” she said, reaching over and snatching it out of Neal’s hand. She turned it over on her palm, wondering where it had been all these years.

“Emma and I used to come hang out here…” he trailed off. “Back in high school. When we wanted some alone time .”

“Oh,” Belle said, her eyebrows raised. “ Oh . Not sure how I feel about that, to be honest.”

Neal just shrugged. “Not like we need it anymore. But something made me come here today. Thinking of simpler times, I guess.”  

Belle sat down beside her stepson, the old loveseat sagging toward the middle with the addition of her slight weight.

“Looks different now,” Neal mused. “The furniture was all covered up and there was nothing really here back in high school. But I guess you’ve moved back in, huh?”

“I…” Belle puzzled over her answer. “Sort of, I guess. Not that I’ve spent much time here lately.”

“Because you’ve been pretending you and Dad are still together, pretending to be happy, lying to me.”

He didn’t sound angry anymore, just resigned. There was a hollowness to his voice that hurt Belle more than any amount of rage could have.

“Neal, we never wanted to lie to you,” she said, chancing a hand against his arm. He didn’t shrug her off which she took as a good sign. “We just didn’t want to ruin the happiest time of your life with our own silly drama.”

Neal let out a humorless snort. “Is that what a divorce is? Silly drama? Not in my experience.”

Belle sighed, rubbing her hand against Neal’s arm. “No, I suppose that’s understating things isn’t it?”

He was silent for a long moment, before looking aside at Belle.

“What happened between you two?”

“Life,” Belle said. “Stress. Mostly we stopped seeing each other, stopped saying what we really wanted. We’re trying to change that.”

“So are you getting a divorce?” he asked.

“No,” Belle said assuredly, shaking her head. “Because I love your dad more than I’ve ever loved anything. He’s frustrating and annoying and so, so stupid, but I love him. And when you find someone you love that much, you never give up on them.”

“But how do you know?” he asked. “How do you know that Papa is right for you? How can you be sure it’s not going to fall apart again a month from now or a year?”

“Do you think that’s what’s going to happen with you and Emma?” she asked, deflecting his question with one of her own.

Neal shook his head.

“Before this morning, I would have said no. I would have said I was completely certain that we’d be together forever. But if something can shake you and Pop, what makes Emma and I any different?”

“Well, none of us can predict the future,” Belle said. “I can’t tell you you’re not going to have tough times. Even the happiest marriages do. Life isn’t perfect and neither is marriage, but the difference between a happy marriage and an unhappy one is your investment. Eventually something will go wrong, but if you stand together, you and Emma can face anything.”

She gave his arm a comforting squeeze and Neal finally shook her off, raking his hands through his hair and over his face.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said, his monotone voice muffled by his hands.

“Hogwash,” Belle said, swatting him lightly on the shoulder. “You and Emma love each other. You’re having a baby. What’s a little party with a white dress in comparison to that commitment?”

“I’m just…” Neal paused, looking beside himself as his hands dropped to his lap. “I’m worried I’m making the exact same mistakes my parents did. I mean, Belle, you think they’re bad now, you should have seen them when they were married. That divorce was the best thing that ever happened to any of us and it still wrecked them for years afterward. Every childhood memory I have is tainted with whatever fight they were having at the time. I can’t do that to my kid.”

“But that’s not you and Emma,” Belle said empathetically.

“Not now,” he countered. “But Mom and Pop got married, they had me. They must have been in love at some point. And it still turned out how it did.”

“No we weren’t,” came a voice from the doorway. Belle jumped, looking up to see Alasdair standing there. He’d somehow dressed for the wedding, cutting an impressive figure in his tux with a boutonniere of fresh greenery and baby's breath pinned to his buttonhole. “No love is needed to make a child, and sometimes you have all the love in the world and it still doesn’t happen.”

“Alasdair,” Belle breathed.

“Your mother and I weren’t in love, Neal, never,” he continued, coming to sit on the other side of Neal, the small sofa sinking even further toward the floor. “We had been seeing each other, not exclusively as I came to find out, for about a month when you were conceived. Liverpool beat Man U in the FA Cup Final, spirits were high, the lager was flowing and we were careless. Your mother and I didn’t love each other. We barely knew each other. And within six months of being married she resented me for trapping her with a baby, no matter that was never my intent. We were never happy, son. Don’t let our failures color your relationship with Emma. The two couldn’t be more different.”

Neal looked up at his father with disgust.

“So I’m the product of a drunken one night stand brought on by football euphoria?” he asked with a snort. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Alasdair shrugged, his lips curving up in a smile. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Neal shook his head with a laugh, dragging his hands over his face again. Belle considered it a win.

“Neal, I might think you and Emma are too young for all this, but the fact of the matter is you’ll be bound to each other regardless. That baby is going to be the most extraordinary thing to ever happen to either of you. It will change your life, for the better, I promise. Of all the mistakes I’ve made in this life, you were never one of them. Being your dad is my greatest joy. And whatever the two of you choose, Belle and I will support it and support you.”

Belle’s heart gave a little leap, hearing Alasdair speak of them as a unit.

“We’ve got you, Neal,” she said with a little smile.

Neal heaved a deep breath. “Where’s Emma?” he asked, looking up at Belle.

“She’s with her mother, getting ready.”

Neal nodded. “I should probably put on real pants,” he said, looking down at his flannel pajama bottoms. “And then we need to talk.”

By the time they reached the Magus Mansion, Belle and Gold fully dressed for the wedding and Neal in the backseat in jeans, it was after 4:00. Belle sincerely hoped Mary Margaret’s valium was still in effect or she was sure the other woman was having some sort of conniption fit.

The photographer was already setting up in the gardens and the manager told Belle that Emma was getting some last minute touch ups in the bridal dressing room upstairs. They rushed inside, Neal taking the stairs two at a time until they reached the solid oak door labeled “Bridal Suite”.

Neal knocked on the door tentatively.

“Come in,” came Emma’s voice from inside, and Neal cracked open the door.

“Neal!” Emma exclaimed in a relieved voice at the sight of his reflection in her mirror. Emma was sitting in front of an antique vanity as her mother wove little white flowers into her hair. Belle had a glimpse of the white lace of Emma’s long dress before Mary Margaret gasped, spinning around and moving her body in front of Emma, trying to block her from view.

“What are you doing? You can’t see the bride before the wedding!” she hissed at Neal. “It’s bad luck!”

“Mom,” Emma said exasperatedly from behind Mary Margaret’s back. “It’s okay.”

“What are you wearing?” Mary Margaret continued, looking Neal up and down. “It’s time for photos. You and the groomsmen are first. Where is your tux?”

“Mary Margaret,” Belle interrupted, coming to take her friend’s hand. “It’s their wedding day. Let’s give them a minute?”

“We don’t have a minute,” Mary Margaret hissed out. “We are on a very tight schedule that no one seems concerned with but me.”

“Please, Mom,” Emma said, standing and gazing at Neal with a wary look on her face.

Mary Margaret looked torn, looking back and forth between Emma and Neal.

“Fine,” she said, throwing her hands up. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She stomped out of the room, her heels clacking angrily against the hardwood floors. Belle supposed the champagne and drug laced euphoria of the morning had definitely worn off. She gave Neal an encouraging smile before closing the door on the engaged couple, giving them their privacy.

There was a striped upholstered bench on the stretch of wall across from the dressing room and Gold settled himself upon it, his cane balanced between his knees. He looked as calm as could be, a marked difference from the frantic mother of the bride.

“What are they talking about in there?” Mary Margaret whispered, pressing her ear to the door. “The wedding is in less than two hours and Neal isn’t even dressed yet!”

“Give them some space, Mrs. Nolan,” Alasdair said, and Mary Margaret wheeled around.

“We are on a schedule!” she exclaimed. She seemed to realize almost immediately that she had yelled at Mr. Gold. No one yelled at Mr. Gold. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “I’m a little on edge. Today has to be perfect.”

“Why?” Alasdair asked with a shrug. “It’s a wedding. They’ll say their vows, they’ll dance, they’ll eat cake. Everyone will remember the lovely time they had at the open bar and little else.”

Mary Margaret stared at him as though he had three heads.

“Emma trips walking down the aisle because she didn’t get enough practice in her wedding shoes,” she rattled off, holding up a finger. “Neal’s tux pants are too short because he didn’t bother trying them on until five minutes before the wedding,” another finger. “The officiant imbibes too much at the cocktail hour and face plants during the ceremony,” a third finger.

Gold snorted.

“Crises, all,” he said sarcastically.

Mary Margaret crossed her arms against her chest.

“Fine,” she said, haughtily. “Emma and Neal decide to elope to Bali and I lose all my deposits and don’t have one single picture or memory of my only daughter’s wedding day.”

Gold just gave a little nod.

“I can see why that would upset you. But I don’t think we need to worry about it quite yet.”

Mary Margaret threw her hands up, pacing off down the hall and Belle sat down next to Alasdair.

“You can have all the love in the world, hmm?”

He glanced up at her with a puzzled look on his face.

“What you said to Neal,” she said, thumbing over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment. About love not being a necessary requirement to having a child.”

“Ah,” Alasdair said with a nod. “If it were, we’d have a house full.”

“Yeah,” Belle agreed, entwining her hand with Gold’s. He squeezed it reassuringly.

After fifteen minutes of relative silence coming from Emma’s dressing room, Belle worried Mary Margaret was going to wear a hole into the carpet with her pacing. A moment later, the door cracked open and Neal and Emma exited, holding hands and smiling. It was an odd juxtaposition; Emma looking ethereally lovely in her wedding gown which, Belle was pleased to note, was just as timeless as Mary Margaret had indicated, and Neal in his jeans and flannel button down.

“Oh, finally!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “We’re going to be late!”

“Mom,” Emma interrupted her with a raised hand. “We have something to tell you all.”

Emma and Neal shared a loaded glance before she turned back to her mother and would be in-laws. “We’re not getting married. At least not today. Not yet.”

“What!?” Mary Margaret screeched, the pitch of her voice making Belle wince. “You had better be joking, young lady. There are 120 guests waiting in that garden to watch a wedding. I can’t just tell them to all go home.”

“You’re right,” Emma continued, coolly. “They came for a wedding and we’ll give them one.”

Mary Margaret let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” she said, “Neal, get your tux on.”

Neal cocked his head to the side, looking Mary Margaret over. “I actually think you’re a little underdressed.”

Mary Margaret glanced down at her conservative pink and black Mother of the Bride dress.

“What?” she said, looking confused and slightly panicked.

“This isn’t my wedding, Mom,” Emma said with a smile. “It never was. It’s yours. The dress, the flowers, the guest list. It’s the wedding you and dad deserve, but never got to have.”

“What are you suggesting?” Mary Margaret demanded. “I already got married twenty years ago.”

“You got married, yes,” Emma agreed. “But you didn’t get a wedding. Now’s your big chance.”

Mary Margaret’s mouth fell open as she shook her head slightly. “No,” she insisted. “This is your wedding.”

“I know you brought Grandma’s veil,” Emma cut across her.  

Mary Margaret looked sheepish. “I was hoping you might change your mind about the veil. But Emma, I can’t fit in the dress. I’ve had two children. I don’t have your figure.”

“I’ve put on a few pounds with the pregnancy and you’ve lost a few with the stress this wedding has put on you. We’re practically the same size.”

Mary Margaret was still gaping at her daughter like a fish out of water. Belle glanced aside at Alasdair to see that he was grinning, enjoying the spectacle before them. She couldn’t help it, she let out a laugh.

Mary Margaret spun around to look at the Gold’s as if she’d forgotten they were there.

“I think that’s a great idea, Emma,” Belle said, standing up and going to them. “You and Neal should get married when you’re ready to, on no one’s timeline but your own. And Mary Margaret, Emma is right. This is your wedding.”

Mary Margaret shook her head, still looking unconvinced. “But your father would never go for it.”

“I already texted him,” Emma said, holding her phone up in her hand.

“Mary Margaret?” They all turned to see David at the end of the hall. He walked toward them, stopping before Mary Margaret and dropping to one knee.

“What are you doing?” Mary Margaret asked.

David looked up at her, his face shining with love.

“I fell in love with you when I was sixteen, and I have fallen more in love with you every day since. We wake up every day and choose each other, no matter what life throws at us. So here I am choosing you again. Will you marry me? Tonight?”

“David,” she gasped out, her eyes wet with tears. “How could I ever say no?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes!” Mary Margaret cried, breathlessly.

*

Mary Margaret Blanchard Nolan and David Nolan renewed their vows in the garden of the Magus mansion at 6:30 in the evening. After a bit of shuffling and a few announcements, the wedding transitioned to a vow renewal. The bulk of the guests were there for Mary Margaret and David anyway, Emma and Neal’s friends were happy enough to stay for the open bar, and Milah and Killian slipped away as soon as they realized they no longer had to be there. All in all, Belle thought it was as seamless as a canceled wedding could possibly be.

She and Alasdair found seats near the back of the ceremony, no longer required to be front and center as parents of the groom.

Emma was right, the dress did fit Mary Margaret beautifully as she walked down the aisle to a string quartet, a beaming smile on her face. Emma looked less at ease in Mary Margaret’s staid dress, but she was smiling just as broadly as she stood in as Maid of Honor. Little Leo cut a dashing figure in his tiny tux, promoted from ring bearer to Best Man.

“Do you, Mary Margaret, take this man to be your husband…again?” Archie asked. There was a titter of laughter throughout the congregants and Mary Margaret shook her head with tears in her eyes.

“I absolutely do,” she said.

Beside Belle, she felt Alasdair reach for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. She glanced at him, but he was watching the Nolans exchange vows. His hand tightened around hers.

Belle leaned in against him, and Alasdair wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispered against her ear.

She smiled at him, squeezing his knee with her hand.

“I love you, too.”

They would be okay, she realized. Because just like Mary Margaret and David, they chose to be.

*

The garden was alight with candles and fairy lights, illuminating the flowers and greenery in the failing early summer sunlight. The evening sounds of crickets and the lapping of the water in the bay against the cliffs below the mansion were all but drowned out by the music from August’s turntable, driving people on to the dance floor in droves. Belle and Gold were content to sit out the more frenzied music, sipping champagne at a cocktail table on the sidelines.

“Well, I’d say that was a successful wedding,” she said, clinking her glass against Gold’s. “Considering Neal didn’t actually get married.”

“I agree,” he said. “And best of all, I didn’t pay for any of this.”

Belle rolled her eyes fondly at him.

“What’s Neal’s plan now?” she asked, watching as the man in question twirled Emma around on the dance floor.

“They’re going to find an apartment together, get settled into their jobs, all the things they would have done without this silly ritual.”

“Silly ritual?” Belle asked. “If that’s what you think of marriage, why did you ever propose to me?”

“Because when a man is lucky enough to catch the attention of a woman like you, they lock it down as soon as they can,” he said with a wink.

“Mhmm,” Belle said, unconvinced by his flattery. “That’s why you’ve spent the better part of the past year trying to drive me away.”

A flash of pain crossed Alasdair’s face and Belle set her champagne glass down, reaching for his hand on the table instead.

“I’m joking,” she assured him. “Well, sort of. Just don’t do anything that pigheaded again.”

“I promise,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I realize I’ve probably got some feelings of inadequacy I’ve never really dealt with. Perhaps I should seek out a session with Dr. Hopper.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Belle encouraged him.

Her eyes drifted off across the reception before she caught sight of someone she hadn’t expected to see, a striking blonde in a red dress.

“Anastasia,” she called the blonde over to them. “You’re here. Will indicated you weren’t going to make it.”

“I didn’t think I could,” she said, glancing around the small garden fervently. “Have you seen Will?”

Belle nodded in the direction of the dance floor where Will and Neal were attempting to hoist David onto their shoulders and failing horribly. Ana’s big eyes filled with worry.

“There he is,” she said breathlessly, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Oh my God, how do I look?”

She turned back to Belle quickly. Ana was stunning as usual in her form fitting dress, her blonde hair falling loose over her shoulders.

“Beautiful,” Belle said with a smile.

Ana bit her lip, still looking worried.

“I think I really hurt him,” she said. “I don’t know if he’ll want me to be here.”

“He does,” Belle assured her. “I promise you he does.”

Ana just nodded before scurrying off to Will.

“What was that about?” Alasdair asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“That,” Belle said, turning to face her husband. “Is why you have absolutely no reason to think Will Scarlet is interested in me.”

“He’d be a fool not to be,” Gold shot back. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Did you miss the 22-year-old blonde glamazon?”

Gold shrugged, wrapping his arm about her waist.

“I prefer brunettes,” he said with a smirk.

The music changed from the pounding dance music to something softer and Alasdair dropped his arm from her waist, reaching instead for her hand.

“Care to dance, Mrs. Gold?”

“I would love to,” she said with a smile.

Alasdair led her out onto the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her as they swayed together to the music.

“We could do this, you know,” he said. “Renew our vows.”

Belle looked up at him. “Another silly ritual?”

“Our wedding was small,” he continued. “You deserve something lavish.”

“You said the same thing when we got married,” she pointed out. “I was perfectly happy with our wedding. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

It was at that moment that a cacophony went off, huge blooms of fireworks lighting up the darkening night sky. The assembled crowd gasped, which turned to oohs and aahs at the spectacle.

“That’ll be Leroy,” Alasdair said, unfazed.

“I beg your pardon?” Belle asked, looking up at him, the purple, red, and pink light reflected on his upturned face.

“I paid Leroy an obscene amount of money to shoot fireworks off his boat in the bay when Emma and Neal were pronounced man and wife. I suppose his timing was a little off.”

Belle stared up at her husband, the man she loved more than anything.

“You did that for them? Even though you were so grumpy about the wedding?”

Alasdair glanced down at her.

“Of course,” he said. “I know I’m not always the best at showing it, but I’m full of love, Belle. For you, for Neal, for Emma, for our future grandchild. I–”

Belle didn’t let him finish. She reached up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, hard. Alasdair melted into her, his arms tightening about her waist. Neither of them had ever been much for PDA, but at the moment it didn’t matter. There was a wolf whistle from somewhere beside them, but Belle couldn’t be bothered to see who it was. She kissed her husband on the dance floor beneath a symphony of fireworks and couldn’t have wished for a single thing. She was complete.

One Month Later Belle drummed her fingers restlessly against her knees, trying, and failing, to keep the hope from blooming in her chest. She looked down at her wristwatch. How had it only been one minute?

She let out a sigh, staring at the marble tile wall of the shower across from her spot perched on the closed lid of the toilet. It was 6:00 in the evening. Alasdair was downstairs in the kitchen, whipping up a feast and none the wiser to her predicament.

She’d been here before, so many times in this exact position. During their years long fertility journey she’d taken dozens of pregnancy tests. Each time she’d tried to tamp down on that bubble of excitement. She knew all too well how difficult the disappointment was when you let yourself have the slightest bit of hope.

Belle chewed her lip, checking her watch again.

Three minutes.

She glanced over at the test, hanging precariously over the edge of the bathroom sink. She wouldn’t look early. The results weren’t accurate until after the full ten minutes.

“Oh this is stupid,” she sighed, burying her face in her hands. She and Alasdair had tried for ages to get pregnant, naturally at first and then with the help of science, IUI, IVF, none of it had worked. What were the odds they’d get pregnant when they weren’t trying at all?

But she was ten days late.

Belle’s unpredictable period had burned her before. She’d been a week late before and certain, so certain, that the miracle she’d waited for had finally happened. She’d been wrong then, and she was probably wrong now.

It’s why she hadn’t shared her suspicion with Alasdair. There was no need to. It would be all for naught, and bringing up what had been such a sensitive subject in their marriage again so close upon the heels of their reconciliation, was not something she was willing to do.

Six minutes .

But she’d never been ten days late. She’d stewed over it at the library all day, whether to stop by the pharmacy or not. In the end, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She had to know. Even if it was a resounding negative, at least her mind would be put at ease, no more wondering.

She picked at her thumbnail, flaking off the pink paint still there from the wedding last month. Was it too soon? She and Alasdair had just started on their path back to each other, one filled with honesty and regular therapy sessions. A child, no matter how wanted, would throw their lives into upheaval. Could they handle the added stress? The inability to have a child had driven them apart, would a baby do the same?

Belle shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. And besides, she and Alasdair had turned over a new leaf. He would never try to shut her out for her own good again. They would communicate.

Although, not telling him about the pregnancy test wasn’t exactly a great start. She just didn’t want him to get his hopes up for nothing. It was probably nothing.

Eight minutes.

Would she have morning sickness? Would her feet swell? Would she curse the day she ever wished for pregnancy?

No. The test would be negative. They were always negative. She would wad the test up in toilet paper, bury it at the bottom of the wastebasket, try to push down the sorrow, and go downstairs and have a glass of red wine. She’d eat a delicious meal, have a relaxing night, and end it all with a mind blowing orgasm, courtesy of her insanely attractive husband who loved her and who was exactly enough. She didn’t need anything more.

She didn’t need a baby.

Belle breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t need anything more. She was perfectly happy. She had a wonderful life. She would probably always want a baby, but she didn’t need one to fulfill her. She was enough, just as she was.

The timer on her watch beeped out and Belle startled, rattling the toilet seat she was sitting on.

That was ten minutes then.

She almost didn’t want to check, to go ahead and chuck it away. This was just a backslide into her old ways. She’d bring it up with Dr. Hopper at their next session.

She took a deep breath, standing up and crossing the bathroom to the sink. The white plastic test stared up at her, an innocuous thing. She picked it up to read the result and did a double take. Where she was so used to seeing one solitary line, there were two. Two pink lines as bright as day.

Belle grabbed the box for the test, reading over the instructions on the back to make sure they hadn’t changed drastically in the last several months. But no. Two lines meant…

Her hand shook, a sob forming in her throat. It had happened. It had finally happened.

“ALASDAIR!” she screamed, throwing open the door and setting off at a run.

[maguro13-2]

[FARTING+PLOPPING]

Naruto : Yep. Gotta cut back on those meat in the ramen noodles. All of that ninja eating stuff gave me the schlitz. (chuckles) Oh, what's on the news today? (his eyes enlarges that pops through the newspaper) WHAT!?! CAST OF BLACK CLOVER NOW ENJOYS CASINO FOR THE FIRST TIME FROM JUMP GIGA!?! Why would that Devil dude would want to own a casino in the first place!? Wizards don't own a casino! I smell something fishy about the Jumpers owning and gambling at casinos and even waitresses that serves the drinks as bunny girls.

[Phone vibrating]

Naruto : Huh? [answers phone] Asta! What's going on? Why do you look like a playboy or something

Asta : (on facetime) Hey, Naruto! You're just in time for us to have the great opening of-, I mean our first time at the Casino! I'm into gambling that knows how gambling in japanese anime and mangas works!

Naruto : Jump Giga allowed you to have a Casino of your own and we didn't noticed! Why didn't we think of that!?

Asta : Yeah, I know, right!? It's cool that I missed out all the fun that Shounen Jump, but in terms of it, I finally get a chance that I, Asta of Black Clover, have something important for you all, all the girls in the Black Bull guild are dressed as Bunny Girls! Pretty hot, huh, Naruto!!

Naruto : Dude! We've been like this with Shounen Jump for a long time and you just wanted to have a casino, and did you say that the female members of your guild are dressed as bunny girls. You sure that you don't want anything from Shounen Jump, I mean, come on. I've been with shounen jump for years.

Asta : Maybe it's your luck dude, If i opened a casino in your world how does that make you feel, oh wait! You don't have a casino! we're all good with the booze man! Trust me! I know you will! At least Noelle looks in that bunny girl outfit!

Noelle : Hey!

Naruto : [on facetime] Well, yeah, dude! If anyone feels like that! Why didn't ask me sooner before you opened the casino of your first time on Jump Giga. Is it really front page?

Asta : Probably is, man. Probably is.

Naruto : So, I get no extra credit on why gambling your self on casinos.

Asta : Money and fanservice!

Naruto : Oh yeah! If you want fanservice at a casino, then how about fanservice from Bulma Briefs, it just so happened that Naruto doesn't do a lot things to bunny girls and I certainly don't do fast food in America! Hope you like your nuggets gold, because I'm taking the gold here of having all the girls of Shounen Jump to wear a bunny girl costume for free! And we'll see how you like it, Asta! I bet know one thing that does all the bunny girls we needed!

Asta : We'll see about that, hope you might get something prove of what you're capable of having girls in hot bunny girl outfit!

Naruto : And that's why I got someone that is a bunny girl who knows about Bunny Girls and I like it hot. Real...Hot.

"later..."

[The Dreamy Stage - Fumie Kumatani, Kenichi Tokoi]

Asta : Where is Naruto? He should be here any minute now. I hope it's not too late that he'll miss out all the glory of this here casino.

Mimosa : Hey, guys! There's one coming and Naruto sent a bunny girl to the place we have opened for the first time!

Asta : Oh good! This will be a moment to have ourselves a slam dunk...? (sees a group of bunny girls) Oh great. More bunny girls. Hope this isn't the last time that we've seen more bunny girls than that. [To Mai] So, you're that Bunny Girl from Bunny Girl Senpai. What do you Bunny Girls that recquires excellent of service providing us in this establishment.

Mai Sakurajima : [shrugs]

Asta : You don't know? Well now. Let's not be in bit of a rush here, fellas. I know, I know, Jump Giga made establish this place give us glory and money gamblings here at a vegas-style casino where we can have all the money we needed. So what are you here in for, would you recquire excellent services on our gambling.

Mai Sakurajima : Oh, I don't know. We bunny Girls are humbling insterested of your great casino. We understand hardships of gambling in the great world of the many casinos from the cities that never sleeps. I, happened to be a Bunny Girl, but everyone realizes that only one person can see me as a Bunny Girl, your casino good, a fine well establishment, it's very astonishing, I'd like it in any kind of casino that you fine bunny girls are interested free drinks, but we hardly accept that Bunny Girls are the alternative forms of waitresses and waiters that gives free drinks at the casino.

Noelle : So, umm, what are you in here for?

Mai Sakurajima : I believe you forgot one thing for all of us, bunny girls, if you wanted to get into bunny girl action, I mean, Bunny Girl traditions. The only reason that a jumper like you owning casino for the first time, because this is not your casino, buddy.

Asta : Oh yeah? Then who owns this place?

Mai Sakurajima: It's our casino, punk!

[multiple guns cocks]

Asta : Huh? What the hell is going on!?

Ichika : Sorry to bother you, Asta. I forgot that this is their casino and not yours.

Asta : Huh? [To Noelle] Noelle, why didn't tell me this was a bunny girls casino!?

Noelle : Oh yeah, that reminds us, this casino was a fine establishment for bunny girls, I didn't know that it belongs to the greatest of all Bunny Girls, I mean, you bunny girls are great, so pristine, so intelligent, and superb. Yeah, let's all agree that bunny girls are quite the essential to all the casinos that people like to gamble. Let me do all the bunny girl talk for real.

(garbled talking)

Asta : [to Yuno] I have no idea what's she talking about.

Yuno : Me neither, dude.

Charmy : Maybe it's her bunny girl talk. That's what she'll remind us what kind of establishment we owned.

Noelle : I guaranteed that I owe humble gratitude to have a fine establish to the bunny girls of bunny girl history. Everything is great for bunny girls.

Mai Sakurajima : Fair enough.

Asta : So, umm, what did they say?

Noelle : Sorry, Asta. I don't think this isn't the casino we owned by Black Bulls, it belongs to bunny girls. I guess the casino that Jump Giga gave us was rigged, this is their's!

Asta : Does this mean that they'll ever let us go? I-I mean this was some kind of mix up going on here! You've got to be joking, right? This is some kind of weird set up on how did we not know that bunny girls own this establishment!

Bulma : Because the casino is for everyone and for us Bunny Girls, whether, you're a lesbian, straight, or gay, I think that you hardly forgot that we own this establish to bring all the live and fortunate with all biggest fortune, so I have this plaque right here. This plaque is what we owned this establishment and we wouldn't make a share out of our lives. We Bunny Girls are the true gamblers.

Asta : Noelle! Please tell her that having a casino for Black Cover is a stupid idea, you got us all mixed up, right? Uhh, Noelle...?

Yuno : [To Charmy] Uhh, Charmy?

Asta : Girls, what's wrong? Why are you so quiet? Are you all going to surrender like us?

Noelle : Sorry, Bakasta. I just couldn't help it. But being a Bunny Girl makes me a true gambler.

Charmy : Yeah, we all felt like this. We all got ourselves mixed up, we have everything what needed for Bunny Girls heritage, we have fame, fortune, and...(Knocks Yuno out with a Gun) Double Cross, b*tch!

Noelle : I guess that it's a shame that we took all the mistakes here for nothing. So I'm turning the tables now, Asta.

Asta : Like what?

(gun cocks)

Noelle : Like we're with them now. You guys are the wolfs of serving us gamblers. We bunny girls don't take orders from wolves like you.

Asta : Why did I even bother owing to a casino!?[looks up] WHYYYYYYYY!?

*scenario ends to reality*

Asta : And we decided that all of our girls decides to betray us to think that Bunny Girls do own the casinos and we may never know about it, since we had no choice but to surrender as casino wolves of gambling. Plus, including the girls of Black Bull.

Naruto : Yeah, that's a really theory about you going to a casino, but in terms of this case, do you ever heard about owning a highway that goes to play Bingo?

Asta : What?

Noelle : Sorry, Asta. When it comes to Bunny Girls like us, you guys are here to gamble at a casino... with some "Bingo"!

Asta : AW, WHAT!?!

Yami : Hey, this wasn't part of Jump Giga's deal!

Asta : No! You girls tricked us! I didn't sign up for this! Okay! I promise to never own illegal casinos again! I promise! Do whatever you want! Just don't make us die into this abyss falling into a casino-themed city!

Noelle : Sorry, the rules are the rules of what it means to be an Usagi Shoujo in person. Humans don't control bunny girls, Bunny Girls can control you.

Charmy : Here we go!

Yami : Why you little piece of--(Grey hits ball with a hamer) SH******T!!!

Yuno : (in a ball) Sorry, Asta! I love to gamble for some casinos, but I believe that you're on your own to play some Bin-(Charmy hits ball with a hammer) GOOOOOOOO!

Noelle : In you go, Asta! Hope you like a BINGO Highway surprise! Cause I'm winning big here!

Asta : [To the viewers] Well, I guess we all learned a valuable lesson about casinos and bunny girls, those things can come together when it comes to gambling. But just to remind you, gambling doesn't make you greedy, gambling makes you rich and care for others at those who like to gamble. [To Noelle] I'm sorry that Jump Giga tricked me into Gambling and owning a casino, I'd love to gamble with you as a bunny girl, Noelle. But I don't mind that I could go for some Bingo right about--(Noelle hits ball with hammer) NOOOOOOOOW!!!

[Bingo Highway (Dream Spirit Mix) - Keiichi Sugiyama]

Asta : (yelling and grunting) This is not what I planned for!

Yuno : Somebody please! Stop this crazy thing!

Yami : Can't anyone tell me how to control on these balls!? IT'S BUSTING MY BALLS!!!

Asta : This is the most deadliest thing we ever rode on!

Yuno : I can feel my whole body spinning around!

Yami : That is it! We are never owning illegal establishments again!

Ichika : You think them boys had enough fun of being in balls at a highway of BINGO?

Charmy : It's my luck that wearing bunny girl suits are always a tradition for gambling at a casino and of course serving drinks.

Mimosa : Well, this whole gig turned out so well.

Noelle : Do you think the boys we'll learn their lesson?

Grey : You'd tell me, never own a casino with legal rights. Hope Vegas might be a good choice to make Bunny Girls a great place for gamblers and waitresses.

Mereoleona : Like that'll ever happen in a million years.

Asta : Okay, girls! We get it! We get it! (to Yuno and Yami) Guys why are you all going that way? Huh? (sees a spring in the middle of his way, to the viewers) Mommy?

*Sonic SFX : Spring Jump*

Asta : WOAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Noelle : Alright! Aerial Bingo!

Asta : Huh? (looks down and sees a bunch of Bingo) Oh, man.

*Zoom+WHISTLING*

Asta : Not the numbers! Anything but numbers! This is going to get hurt, alot! (gets hit by Bingo numbers)

"BINGO 1!"

Noelle : Bingo!

"BINGO 2!"

Charmy : Bingo!

"Bingo 3!"

Mimosa : Bingo!

Noelle : Last one!

Asta : (sees the number 9 that is coming towards) AWW, CRA-!!

"PERFECT!"

Noelle : Perfect Bingo!

*DBZ SFX : Wall Hit/Crash*

Asta : (moaning in pain) Is someone having Chips today?

Charmy the Bee : You mean potato chips?

Asta : Not those kind of Chips!

(crowd cheering)

(girls cheering)

Noelle : Alright! Alright! We won! This whole Casino thing turned out well! This is way better than gambling in Roppongi, which kinda sucked, Ichika.

Ichika : You know I was out of town for a meeting in Hawaii. Also, this Bingo Highway establishment is actually owned by a mad scientist with an IQ of 3000 and he needed us to pay for our rent.

Yumeko : So, Wizard boy. What did we learn today about owning casinos and gambling addiction at a fair price?

Asta : Never own or establish a casino without asking permission and do not get yourself addicted to gambling.

Yumeko : Very good. As matter of a result, here's your prize money. This is our share from the endless sleeping cities of the many casinos.

Asta : Oh good! I'm getting all the stakes to become a millionaire.

Noelle : I'll be taking that! (takes bag of money and gives it to Kaiji) Here you go sir. It's all yours. I believe I have something for you. (gives Asta a penny) Here, you can keep it. It will give you a luck of stopping your addiction.

Asta : You know what? Screw casinos! Screw my gambling addiction! I AM NEVER EVER GETTING A NEW GIG EVER AGAIN! I'M DONE WITH CASINOS! I'M DONE WITH THEM! I'm going to be a food critic.

Man : And that will show you the means of what future gambling addicts like him will always be a problem and that will be your problem on gambling at casinos!

"DON'T BE ADDICTED TO GAMBLING!"

"Brought to you part by...THE SPACE POPE".

(TV turns off)

Asta : So...Umm...Now that we understand the hardships of Bunny Girls, Gambling at casinos and being addict all the time, who wants to go Nevada?

Noelle : Not on your life, Devil boy. Bunny Girls orders.

[weirdlet]

Today’s D&D session- we of the White Sails mercenary company are told to meet our captain with our new orders at a certain inn at a certain time.  The other three show up well and early and engage in an eating contest for the right to lead the group and for like, ten gold per twenty plates finished or something ridiculous like that.

Glory saunters in twenty minutes late and orders a rice-bowl and a mimosa.

[raincarrington]

Already, the ARC readers are in love with Cosmo!

Coming Feb 2nd, Cosmo, the first book in the 6-book series called Murphy's Pub, will be live!

This series is about bartenders that put on amazing shows on the weekends, and the rest of the week, they're a team of criminal, robbing from the rich, and helping out others that need them!

In Cosmo, Liam MacManus gets out of prison and joins the group. When he finds out what their other purpose is besides bartending, he makes demands to the group that include helping the neighborhood.

After rescuing a cat and meeting a handsome stranger, Cosmo finds the home and family he never wanted were already his.

Come meet Cosmo, Mimosa, Gold Rush, Hypnotic, Purple Haze, and Absinthe and find out why they're the most popular bartenders in the city!

[books2read.com/u/mVLvKp]

[inspofromancientworld]

Philæ and it's Ancient Origins

By Frederick P. Vinton (original portrait) - This image is available from the United States Library of Congress's Prints and Photographs divisionunder the digital ID cph.3b35371.This tag does not indicate the copyright status of the attached work. A normal copyright tag is still required. See Commons:Licensing., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6136668

Thomas Gold Appleton was an American lawyer, writer, and patron of the fine arts who lived from 1812-1884. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow married his sister Frances to become his brother-in-law. He would joke that he just missed being 'born an April fool', beginning his life in Boston, Massachusetts. He attended Harvard College and passed the bar in 1838. He is the source of the quote, often attributed to Oliver Wendell Holmes, whom he met in 1833, 'Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris'. He spent a lot of his life traveling around the world, writing '[m]ore and more of the world needs, and learns to value, its vacation'. In 1843, his sister and Longfellow married. During a stay in Paris, he attempted life as an artist and poet, writing to his father that '[d]o you suppose…I am fool enough to call myself a painter or a poet? The short and long of it is, that I have not any of the kind of talent needful to success here.' From 1852-1856, he was on the board of trustees of the Boston Public Library. In 1861, his sister accidentally caught fire and died. He had no children of his own, but helped take care of her children. In 1864, while he was in New York, he contracted pneumonia and died. Before he died, his nieces and nephews came to visit him and, despite knowing he would die, he was cheerful with them. Holmes wrote of him, '[t]he city seems grayer and older since he left us, the cold spring wind coming from the bay, harsher and more unfriendly.'

By Diego Delso, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=122615167

Philæ is an ancient temple complex built on an island around the 7th century BCE and used until about the 6th century CE. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site and has been moved from its original location due to the building of the Aswan Low Dam to preserve them. It was considered to be one of the burial places of Osiris, who was the god of death, rebirth, fertility, resurrection, life, and vegetation. One myth has his cut into twenty-six pieces by Set (Typhon) after Set killed him and one of the places those pieces was buried was Philæ, lending it a special sense of reverence to the ancient Egyptians, with only priests allowed on the island. It was reported that birds didn't fly over the island, nor did fish approach it because it was so sacred. By the time of the Ptolemaic Kingdom (beginning in 350 BCE), though, it was common for pilgrims to visit the site, as well as those on secular business, so much so that the priests petitioned Ptolemy VII Physcon (170-117 BCE) to ban public functionaries from mooching off them. Other islands near the Temple complex were used by the Egyptians and Nubians to trade goods between the seasonal rapids that made trade impractical. Also nearby were granite quarries and the supporting population of miners and stonemasons. With being near the Tropic of Cancer and how they were were built, the cornices and moldings would cast shadows on the vertical walls.

In the poem, Appleton visits the temple complex on a quiet night with a 'Nubian moon' with shadows casting 'gloom as they incline'. It is '[a] peopled silence', though, putting the poem set in the time when it was still a religious center, but the silence is not 'wholly voiceless, for each rustling wave,/Trembling mimosa [a group of about 400 types of herbs and shrubs], and dim palmy crest,/And the low zephyr [western wind] lingering by his grave'. The poem ends with a 'stately pylon on the Immortal Guest,/And the wave bears it as its waters pour,/Murmuring through the Cataract's roar!', making the poem an atmospheric look at the island and the temples.

[guildfm]

      now   introducing   MISS   CRESSIDA   GRACE   KANG,   MISS   MAEW   "KAT"   RATCHASAKUN,   and   MISS   MICHELLE   HWANG   to   the   ton!   we   are   thrilled   to   see   you   this   social   season,   and   we   do   hope   that   you're   able   to   get   settled   in   within   the   next   twenty   four   hours.   be   careful   out   there,   it   seems   like   guildsrc   is   already   on   the   prowl.   seo   yeji,   park   chaeyoung,   davika   hoorne, muse i   and   muse   h   are   now   taken!

(   seo  yeji.   she  +  her.   cis  woman.   )   ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚   well,   well…   it   appears   that   MICHELLE  HWANG   will   be   a   part   of   new   york's   social   season   once   more   !   according   to   guildsource,   the   thirty  three   year   old   is   most   known   for   being   an   investment  group  heiress  +  podcast  host,   and   is   constantly   spotted   hanging   around   the  sullivan—   seems   as   if   you've   heard   of   them,   too.   they   initially   made   a   splash   on   the   gossip   site   after   giving  someone  a  mimosa  shower  at  brunch,   and   they've   been   the   center   of   attention   ever   since.   the   public   tends   to   view   them   as   being   self-indulgent   and   abrasive,   but   people   close   to   them   say   they're   actually   perceptive   and   efficient…   i'll   believe   it   when   i   see   it.   they   tend   to   remind   me   of   self  preservation  &  the  distrust  that  follows,  the  art  of  seduction,  and  the  plucks  &  bowing  of  cello  strings,   which   says   the   most   about   them.   i   wonder   if   they'll   be   seen   wearing   their   audemars  piguet  code  11.59  watch   to   the   social   events   this   year,   but   nevermind   all   that.   the   social   season   is   upon   us,   and   guildsource   is   always   watching.

(   davika hoorne.   she / her.   cis - woman.   )   ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚   well,   well…   it   appears   that   MAEW “KAT"   RATCHASAKUN   will   be   a   part   of   new   york's   social   season   once   more   !   according   to   guildsource,   the   thirty one   year   old   is   most   known   for   being   AN   HEIRESS   &   MODEL,   and   is   constantly   spotted   hanging   around   BON   BON   CANDY—   seems   as   if   you've   heard   of   them,   too.   they   initially   made   a   splash   on   the   gossip   site   after   supposedly   bribing   her   way   into   walking   in   her   first   new   york   fashion   week   and   they've   been   the   center   of   attention   ever   since.   the   public   tends   to   view   them   as   being   SARCASTIC   and   FICKLE,   but   people   close   to   them   say   they're   actually   CANDID   and   ASTUTE…   i'll   believe   it   when   i   see   it.   they   tend   to   remind   me   of   elaborate   vintage   crystal   candy   dishes   full   of   rainbow   colored   swedish   candy;   nag   champa   agarbatti   incense   to   mask   the   acrid   smell   of   cannabis   smoke;   empty   bottles   of   top   -   shelf   champagne   littering   your   bedroom   floor;   pupils   blown   wide   behind   designer   sunglasses;   &   an   extensive   collection   of   niche   fragrances   which   says   the   most   about   them.   i   wonder   if   they'll   be   seen   wearing   their   BULGARI   18K   WHITE   GOLD   SERPENTI   SEDUTTORI   BRACELET   to   the   social   events   this   year,   but   nevermind   all   that.   the   social   season   is   upon   us,   and   guildsource   is   always   watching.

(   park chaeyoung.   she / her.   cis - woman.   )   ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚   well,   well…   it   appears   that   CRESSIDA   GRACE   KANG   will   be   a   part   of   new   york's   social   season   once   more   !   according   to   guildsource,   the  twenty seven   year   old   is   most   known   for   being   AN   ACTRESS   &   POP   STAR,   and   is   constantly   spotted   hanging   around   PRINCE   TEA   HOUSE—   seems   as   if   you've   heard   of   them,   too.   they   initially   made   a   splash   on   the   gossip   site   after   pictures   leaked   of   her   when   she   was   a   teen,   smoking   out   of   a   bong   while   she   had   been   starring   on   a   children's   show,   and   they've   been   the   center   of   attention   ever   since.   the   public   tends   to   view   them   as   being   STOIC   and   FANCIFUL,   but   people   close   to   them   say   they're   actually   ALTRUISTIC   and   EFFERVESCENT…   i'll   believe   it   when   i   see   it.   they   tend   to   remind   me   of   dog   -   eared   romance   novels   piled   high   on   your   bed   side   table;   laying   in   the   sun   on   a   warm   day;   pink   airpod   max   decorated   with   sanrio   stickers;   cotton   candy   hued   selkie   puff   dresses;   &   waist   length   platinum   tresses   braided   with   pastel   ribbons   which   says   the   most   about   them.   i   wonder   if   they'll   be   seen   wearing   their   18K   YELLOW   GOLD   DIAMOND   OVAL   MONOGRAMED   TIFFANY   LOCKET   to   the   social   events   this   year,   but   nevermind   all   that.   the   social   season   is   upon   us,   and   guildsource   is   always   watching.

[ryanbluestone]

Savoring the Art of French Cuisine: Ryan Hunter Bluestone on 5 of Chicago’s Top French Restaurants

French cuisine, celebrated for its sophistication and flavors, has found a cozy home in the heart of Chicago. In this post, Ryan Hunter Bluestone embarks on a culinary journey to uncover some of the best French restaurants in the city, exploring their origins, culinary specialties, founders, and the reasons behind their acclaim.

Bistronomic Bistronomic, established in 2011 by acclaimed Chef Martial Noguier, is a cozy, contemporary French bistro located in the Gold Coast. The menu is a delightful blend of classic French dishes with a modern twist, such as the beloved Coq au Vin and Braised Lamb Shank. Don’t miss the Escargot and consider one of their Dinners for Two. Brunch is quite good as well - bottomless mimosas! Bistronomic is celebrated for its commitment to sustainability and its dedication to delivering French gastronomy with a fresh, farm-to-table approach.

Le Bouchon Le Bouchon, a charming Bucktown gem, opened its doors in 1993, bringing everything we love about a Parisian bistro to Chicago. The menu is a celebration of hearty French comfort food, including favorites like mouthwatering French Onion Soup, Foie Gras, but a trip to Le Bouchon is an opportunity to order outside your comfort zone. Try the Salad Lyonnaise, Seared Frog Legs, or Roasted Pekin Duck if you are up for something new and delicious. Ryan Bluestone notes that Le Bouchon is renowned for its cozy, timeless ambiance, where diners can savor the authentic flavors of France in an intimate setting.

Chez Joel Chez Joel, another beloved French restaurant established in 1993, is the brainchild of Chef Joel Kazouini. Located in Little Italy, this charming eatery offers some of the best Mussels I’ve ever eaten and classic French dishes such as Duck Confit and Beef Bourguignon. If you happen to visit during one of our few good weather months, sit outside on the patio if possible. The ambience is really something special. Chef Joel's commitment to preserving the traditions of French cuisine in the heart of Chicago makes this one a must try.

Le Colonial Le Colonial, founded in 1996, transports diners to the bygone era of 1920s Saigon with its elegant French-Vietnamese fusion cuisine. The city location is a beautiful spot on Oak Street in the Gold Coast and the pricing is as you’d expect in this neighborhood! The menu features delicacies like Goi Cuon and Bo Luc Lac and our guests raved about the Pho and Dumplings. Le Colonial is truly famous for its stunning décor, which replicates the ambiance of a French colonial villa, creating an exotic and luxurious dining experience unlike pretty much any place we’ve been in Chicago.

Mon Ami Gabi Mon Ami Gabi, part of the Lettuce Entertain You restaurant group, opened its doors in 1998 as a charming French bistro in Lincoln Park. Ryan Hunter Bluestone believes this is one of the most reliably wonderful French meals the city of Chicago has to offer. The bread is worth an entire post on its own, and it just gets better from there. The menu offers the classic French dishes you’d expect along with a broad offering of delicious steaks and fish. On top of the incredible food, Mon Ami Gabi’s welcoming ambiance, impeccable service, and extensive wine list have made this spot a destination for so many celebrations.

In Conclusion

Chicago's French restaurants are more than just great places to dine; they are gateways to the rich culinary heritage of France. Whether you're enjoying the modern twists at Bistronomic or the timeless classics at Le Bouchon, each restaurant on this list offers a unique taste of France. These establishments celebrate the art of French cuisine, where every dish is a masterpiece and every meal is an opportunity to savor the flavors of France in the heart of the Windy City. For more information on the Chicago food scene from Ryan Hunter Bluestone, check out the Chicago Taste Instagram account: https://www.instagram.com/chicago.taste/

[miyuhpapayuh]

sixteen.

Zora, the sassy sagittarian, turned twenty nine or twenty fine, as Nique corrected.

Having stuffed their faces full of delicious food, from several different houses the day prior, her mom and sisters rounded her up for a home cooked breakfast plus mimosas, took her shopping, got her nails and toes done, got her hair redone, all paid for by Leon. She was being pampered to the fullest.

She was currently being driven to her surprise of the night, about to drive her loving boyfriend up a wall with how much she asked, are we there yet?

“I'm gonna turn around and go home,” he playfully threatens, earning a swat to his arm.

“Stop it! I'm just excited, that's all.” She says, crossing her heeled feet.

“I know, I know.” He nods, pulling into the lot, hopping out and helping her out as well.

“Aw, this place is cute!” She says, admiring the building in front of them. It was quaint and draped in deep blue, the name of the poetry club, Speak Easy, is lit up in gold cursive.

“Glad you like it,” he smiles, holding out his hand for her to take, as he leads them inside and over to the round red acrylic table that seems to sit underneath a spotlight. She hums to herself.

The inside was beautiful, the walls are black and the floors, a deeper blue, giving off an almost velvet effect as the steps to the lower level sparkle back at her.

A waitress comes and sits a glass of white wine down in front of her, and a glass of rum in front of Leon, before leaving them alone again.

“What? Is she psychic or something?” She whispers, making him laugh.

“No, baby– even though that would be cool,” he nods, “when making the reservation, it asks for your favorite drink and dessert. You can order something else, but they start with those.”

“That's so cute,” she dances in her seat. “So a slice of red velvet cake is gonna meet me before we leave here, tonight?”

“Absolutely, beautiful.” He answers, leaning in to kiss her lips.

She swoons, just staring at him once he pulls away. He does the same with her.

“You look stunning, tonight. Like a doll.” He compliments, twirling a strand of her curled hair around his finger.

“Thank you! I feel like a doll,” she giggles, “I don't get all done-up like this unless it's an occasion.”

“And an occasion, it is. I pulled out one of my best fits for you, girl.” He chuckles.

“Aw, and you look so good in it!” She compliments, rubbing his chest.

Thank you, baby,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!”

“Welcome, welcome. As always, we appreciate everybody in the house tonight for supporting us. We've got a lovely group for you tonight, some new, some familiar faces. Our first performer is heading our way, so get ready to be wowed and remember, hold your applause til the end.”

The lights dim to a soft pale yellow, as the first person sits upon the stool to share their poetry piece. Spice is her name, and she embodies it perfectly with her ginger hair.

“Honey with spice,

Simple, yet divine.

Wild, but grounded.

Messy, and worth it.

A woman of many shades,

Personas,

Layers.

Who I am is for me to define,

And for you to uncover.”

“Wow, she's good.” Zora comments, as they all clap for Spice. “I like how short and sweet it was.”

He nods in agreement, his nerves beginning to get to him. He smiles at her. “Y-yeah, she did good.”

The next performer by the name of Bleu takes the stage, and the lights dim to a pale blue.

“In spite of it all,

I came, saw and conquered.

In spite of it all,

I lived,

I loved,

And I lost.

In spite of it all,

I have no regrets.

If I could go back and double it.

Triple it.

In spite of it all,

I'd still tell my younger self

to love just as hard as he did,

And my future self

to love harder.”

More applause, and Zora’s sliding her hand into Leon's clammy one, her nose wrinkling up as she softly laughs.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Yeah, just wanna make sure you're having a good time.” He answers, brightening the smile on her face.

“The best time.” She reassures him with a squeeze to his hands. “I know I crack my jokes about you being a walking poem, but I like being in the places you love to be in.. seeing you in your zone, too. It's beautiful to me.”

Moved to tears, he clears his throat and wipes his face. Her hands cover his own, while she gazes at him.

“I've got another surprise for you.” He says, before giving her another kiss and disappearing from the table, leaving her alone and confused.

“What?” She quietly asks, before looking around at the other tables, really feeling like she was underneath a spotlight now.

Turning her attention back to the stage, she takes a sip of her forgotten wine, almost spitting it out as Leon taps the mic.

“What??” She whispers again, her eyes popping out of her head.

She had just gotten contacts, and she knew she was seeing correctly.

He was performing?? She finally gets to see him do his thing, on her birthday?? Was he gonna perform a piece for her??

She had so many questions that were about to be answered, as the lights dimmed to deep orange, completely moving her to tears.

“In all the ways,

I dream of you.

You're a goddess.

Ethereal.

I happily kiss the ground you walk on,

Pluck every flower just for you.

My muse.

My passion is you.

The most beautiful woman to

ever walk the earth.

To ever cross my mind.

Damn, you’re so fine.

In all the ways,

I dream of you.

The light,

And the dark.

My sun,

And my moon.

You shine brighter

Than the stars.

The blank space

In between stanzas.

A resting space,

A much needed break.

I lose my senses

When it comes to you.

Forgetting how to speak

Is only the beginning of

Just how frazzled you make me.



In all the ways,

I dream of you.

Bold,

Brilliant,

Beautiful.

Captivating,

Enamoring,

Mesmerizing.

I'm hooked on you.

Absolutely,

Always and,

Forever.”

The applause seems to double in volume as he finishes, and a single slice of red velvet cake with a candle in it is sat down in front of her, as everyone sings happy birthday to her.

“What?!” she yells for the third time.

Grabbing the napkin from the table, she dabs at her eyes and looks around in disbelief, feeling like she was living in a dream.

“Make a wish, sweet stuff.” He says from the mic, as he was still on the stage.

Taking a second to think, she clasps her hands together and blows the candle out, earning another wave of applause that makes her squeal.

As soon as he makes his way back to Zora, she damn near clings to him, giving him all the hugs and kisses she could possibly give.

“That was… that was the most beautiful, sweetest thing ever.” She whimpers, wiping her tears away for the second time tonight.

“I'm so glad you loved it, cause I was so nervous!” He chuckles, lacing their fingers together and kissing her lips, repeatedly.

“It was perfect,” she says in between kisses, “you are the sweetest man!”

“I do my best for you.”

Listening to the rest of the poetry pieces, sipping on her wine and eating the most delicious cake, Zora was on a high for the rest of the night.

“Best birthday ever.” She says, swishing the soapy bubbles around in the bath he drew for her.

“Ever?” He asks, tracing a random pattern on her other arm as he sits behind her in the spacious tub.

“Ever,” she repeats. “Tonight was something out of a movie! I felt like the only woman in the world.”

“You're the only woman in my world. That's for sure.” He says, making her giggle and welcome the many kisses to her neck and cheek.

“I love you, sweet stuff.”

“I love you too, sugar foot.”

She never even considered “birthday sex” to be a thing, but the way he put it down had her working her brain overtime on what to cook him for his birthday, which happened to be the next morning.

A day and a year apart, she had to admit was pretty wicked.

“Happy dirty thirty, Avery!” She'd greeted early this morning, pressing kisses to every part of his face.

His baritone laugh sounded through the room as he wrapped her up in his arms, “thank you, sweetheart.”

“I made breakfast!” She says, excitedly jumping up from his bed and into the hallway, causing him to sit up and rub his eyes, and properly stretch.

Coming back in with a plate of strawberry crepes, her grin turns cheesier at the look on his face.

“Look at this!” He exclaims, taking the plate from her. “I've always wanted to try my hand at these.”

“I knew it,” she laughs. “I've only made them like one other time, and it took me like an hour! So try them and tell me what you think, please.”

He nods and takes a bite. Then, another bite. And one more, his hums of appreciation cause her to cover her face.

“Damn, this is delicious!” He says, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“Yeah, you really like ‘em??” She asks, watching him continue to eat.

“Girl, you finna watch these disappear!” He chuckles, pulling her into his lap, where she takes over feeding him the delicious breakfast.

“Is this how you feel when you cook for me?” She asks, looking down at his handsome face.

“Super accomplished? Hell yeah,” he wholeheartedly nods, making her giggle.

“Did you taste 'em?” He asks, holding a piece out for her.

“I did, but I'll just have one more bite.” She obliges, sighing at the sweet and creamy taste.

Like he said, she watched him make the crepes disappear in record time. She clapped as he hit his victory dance, still seated.

Doing his best shimmy for her, the burst of giggles that hit his ears was another present for his day.

“I got you something,” she says, while they're standing hip to hip in the kitchen, washing the leftover dishes from breakfast.

“What is it?” He asks, nudging her once she starts to laugh.

“Let's finish up here, and you'll see!” She says, flicking soap at him. Of course he flicked some back, right on her nose.

Did the dishes get neglected for a soapy water fight that lasted for five minutes? Absolutely.

Did those five minutes turn into an extra thirty, as they went at it on the counter? Again. Absolutely.

Done with their own shenanigans for the time being, cleaned up and sitting in his living room, Zora sits the box in his lap, a huge smile stuck on her face.

“I don't know which one of us is more excited,” he cracks, the box making a snap sound as he pops it open, finding a stack of gold, square rings— the coolest rings he's ever seen with his own two eyes.

“Woah,” he says, blowing out a breath.

“I originally went to buy you a new chain. Maybe some new studs, but then I saw these! And while you don't wear much jewelry, I thought it would be something of a statement piece to add to your wardrobe, ya know? B-but, if you don't like ‘em, I kept the receipt.” She says, folding her hands in her lap.

“Oh, I'm keepin’ these!,” he laughs, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you. These are super fucking cool, babe. Ima put ‘em on now, just cause!” He announces, pulling them out and sliding them on his middle and ring fingers, holding them up to watch them shine back at him.

Zora's chin is in her palms now, watching him enjoy his gift was the highlight of her day.

“You're welcome, babe.” She responds, pulling his hand towards her, wanting to watch them shine, too.

“Oh, one more thing!’ She says, before hopping up and grabbing the box she hid on the other side of his couch. The complete confusion on his face was priceless.

“How long was that there?” He asks.

“About a week?,” she pauses to do her mental math, before nodding, “yeah, about a week.”

“I’m surprised I missed this big ass box,” he chuckles, making her shake her head.

“I’m glad you did miss it! What kind of surprise would that have been?” She asks with a laugh.

“She’s learning the premise, lord.” He kids, laughing as she snatches the box away.

“I guess I’ll just take this baby back, since you like to play games.”

“Alright, okay. Let’s relax, I was just kidding,” he holds his hands up in mock surrender, making her laugh and hand it back.

Just in case she tried any more funny business, he pulled the lid off the box to find a smaller box with the word Canon written on it.

“A camera? For real?!” He yells, opening it up to pull out the Canon EOS Rebel T7 DSLR Panasonic LUMIX FZ1000 I.

His jaw was on the floor and his mind was blown.

“I've had my eye on this one, girl.”

“I know.” She says, sitting back down beside him.

Unable to find the words, he just fondly shakes his head and stares at the camera, trying to figure out how to turn it on.

Once he does, he checks the battery and aims the camera at Zora, who covers her face.

“Come on, be the first picture to grace this, here camera! Let me see that beautiful face, Jean!” He says, pushing her shoulder with his free hand.

“Okay, okay,” she drops her hands, and he captures her natural mug. Looking back at the photo, he fondly shakes his head again.

“What,” she nudges him.

“You got me the coolest gifts ever. I don't know what to say, besides thank you. That feels inadequate.”

“The coolest guy ever deserves the coolest things ever, right?!” She exclaims, nudging him again.

“The coolest?” He asks, that boyish grin making her own cheeks burn as she nods.

“I'm glad you like your gifts, seriously. I know gift giving is your thing, and you're so thoughtful with yours.. I just wanted to live up to that, too.”

“Zora, let's not forget that you've painted me. Several times. The most thoughtful thing I've ever seen. Hell, you set the standard for me! We could do this all night,” he laughs, sitting the camera down on the coffee table and grabbing hands.

“Thank you. I love my gifts and I love you.”

“I love you too, and you're welcome.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Zora was currently making dinner, and even though she insisted that they didn't have to get dressed up, she was back in her little black dress, since he ever so sweetly requested that she wear it for him, and he pulled out another one of his best fits for his favorite occasion.

“Never let an outfit go to waste, girl!”, he said multiple times today. She'd remember it for sure.

Coming into the kitchen, he does a spin for her as she whistles, “look at you, hot stuff!”

The killer smile he sends her way makes her face warm, a couple giggles escape them both as they awkwardly sway.

��There go those angry bees, huh?” He jokes, pulling her away from the stove to wrap her up in his arms.

“Babe,” she whines, “it's this cologne you've got on, too. My goodness, you smell so good!” She deeply inhaled, making him crack up.

“You told me to always keep a bottle of it near, so,” he shrugs, that smile still on his lips.

“Too much,” she comments, dropping her gaze to his suit. “You really have on a whole suit!”

“Yeah, I do!” He says.

“Even though we're not going anywhere,” she continues.

“Baby, we don't need to leave the house to get all dolled up!”

“No, I know! And don't take what I'm saying the wrong way. I just.. I just always felt there needed to be an outing attached, but I honestly feel less pressured, since it's just you here. I mean, you get my nerves going enough,” she rambles, and he just smiles and cuts her sentence off with a sweet kiss.

“If it feels extra, that's the point,” he cracks, pulling a smile from her. “Question. You don't think you look good, tonight? Cause I think you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“I do, yeah!” She answers.

“You don't think I look good?”

“Of course I do, Leon!”

“Okay, then! Our night on the town just happens to be inside my apartment, and that's okay. Right?”

“Yeah, it's perfect.” She corrects.

“That's what I like to hear. You don't even have to put those dangerous heels on!”

She scoffs a laugh. “Please! Ima go put ‘em on just for that! Dangerous heels.”

“Hey, you always complain about them hurting your feet!”

“Yeah, I be a lil sore but beauty is pain! Why do you think I have a headache every time I look at you?!”

“A-ha,” he dryly laughs, “very funny.”

“I thought so too, now go sit. Dinner’s ready.” She says, shoo’ing him out of his own kitchen.

Two glasses of white wine sit at his round table, along with a tealight candle in the center. Zora came and sat down two plates of piping hot food.

“Damn, this looks delicious babe. I gotta take a picture!” He exclaims, jumping up from the table to get the camera off the charger.

She softly laughs at the way he rushes back over and snaps a picture of her beautiful setup.

“Okay, okay. We can eat now!” He says, sitting back down.

“How many pictures is that, now?” She asks.

“Uh… five?”

“Yeah? I'm shocked there aren't more!”

“Well, technically there's only four, cause I had to retake one. It came out kinda blurry.”

“Still keep it,” she suggests.

“Yeah, maybe.” He says before they join hands to say grace.

Digging right into the stuffed chicken breast and potatoes, the same look he wore at breakfast is back tenfold, making her laugh and look away from him.

“Again, you finna watch this disappear.”

“Stop it, and tell me how lunch with your two favorite girls went.” She says, digging into her own plate.

“Well, I was missing my third,” he faux pouts, earning another smile out of her, “but lunch was great. I didn't realize how much we'd all missed out on in the last couple months!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Eryn was traveling to Florida and back on another business trip, ma was sick for a few weeks, and around the timeframe she gave me, I remember calling her and asking her if she was good, cause you just know when parents are tryna save face and act like their in tiptop shape. She had a cold the whole time.”

“My mama does shit like that, too. It's so frustrating, like let me help you!”

“She swore it would've disrupted my schedule, like she's not my mama. Fuck that job.”

“Yeah, fuck that job,” she repeats, laughing at the expression his face. “This really bothered you.”

“It really did!” He laughs, shaking his head. “But, she's promised not to do that anymore. We’ll see,” he sighs.

“Hold her to it,” she points her fork in his direction. “I do my mama like that, too. She be tryna slide outta her promises too, they think they're slick.”

“I agree. I need somebody to take her off our hands cause she's gonna turn us gray, not the other way around.” He half-jokes, making Zora crack up.

“Leave her be! Cause if a man does come around and scoop her up, you really ain't gon know where she at and how she’s doing.” She smirks, snickering at his stale expression.

“Anyway,” he says.

“I'm just saying! But, anyway.”

“Other than all of that, this has been a great birthday. I always pictured thirty in so many words, and grateful is all I really feel.” He says, reaching across the table for her free hand, meeting her bright smile with one of his own.

“I'm glad I could be a part of it, there's nothing I'd rather be doing than being here with you.”

Holding his tears this time, he gives her hand a squeeze to keep the mood light, even though she's tugging on his heartstrings like crazy.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Happy birthday.”

Changing out of their fancy clothes after their photo shoot, the two threw on their pjs and settled on the couch to watch their usual cartoons, along with bowls full of ice cream— his was cookie dough and her was brownie cheesecake swirl.

“Best way to end the day.”

“Yeah, getting sugar wasted?”

“Like the teenage me would,” he laughs, sitting his bowl down on the coffee table, pulling her into his lap, sideways.

“Was I too far away?” She asks, biting into a brownie chunk.

“Yeah, I still think you do it on purpose.” He says, snuggling right into her neck. She laughs and sits her bowl next to his.

“I do not!”

His muffled laughter sounds in response, then silence covers them as they sit and soak up the moment. Nothing but the sound of the tv in the background.

“I love you” is conveyed in light sweeps of his fingertips over her bare thighs. Nuzzles against her sweet spot. Her nails softly scraping against his scalp.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“Shit,” he groans into her open mouth as she grinds on top of him, his hands on her hips, fingertips digging into her heated skin.

“Feels good, huh baby?” She moans, placing a hand on his chest, wrinkling his shirt in her grasp as she moves faster, the clap of her ass against his thighs giving her extra motivation.

“Good as fuck,” he smacks her ass, pulling her t-shirt up to bury his face in her chest.

His nips and licks to her sensitive flesh had her eyes rolling back. His groans vibrate off her skin, her own moans tangle between.

Her hands find his growing curls, tugging just to drive him wild. Both of his hands come down on her ass again, earning a gasp in return. Her arousal doubles, the squelching joining their sexual harmony.

“I fucking love you,” he groans, his head falling back against the cushions. Her ass is still smacking against his sticky thighs.

“I know,” she says with a smirk, pulling her t-shirt completely off. The dazed smile on his face made her throb against him.

Pulling him to her by his neck, she watches as he buries his face back into her chest. Her hands find his hair again, her bottom lip deeply bitten into as she continues dropping her ass on him.

“Fuck, baby..” his raspy groan sounds through her chest, her hips back in his firm grasp. He was close.

Pulling him up to face her, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing kisses all over his face.

“I love you,” she moans, “cum for me, baby..” she whispers, smiling at the way his eyes begin to roll back, her name falling from his lips like a prayer as he reaches his peak.

She kisses his parted lips, the way he's wildly rutting into her and grunting has her throbbing against him again.

“So fucking sexy, baby— shit,” she gasps, feeling her own peak creep up on her, “oh my god.”

“You cummin’, yeah?”

“Fuck-— yes!” She moans with her head thrown back, loving the way he grips her hips and takes over slamming her down on him.

Now, that's the best way to end the day.

Ch 17

@ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @honestpreference @starcrossedxwriter @thegifstories @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @abeautifulmindexposed @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @mauvecherie-writes @harmshake @sheabuttahwrites @cecereads209

[transit-fag]

Final update on the whole story I'm working on for a bit, I am just going to drop in a read more. I hope you guys enjoy reading it

Today is the 3rd Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other peculiar fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72$ to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How?

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Gold Hoop earings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is not is consise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a whisper rings through the air.

A tick of a second

And Bang, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from downtown the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues.

[3d10fire-damage]

Colors That Run Highlights 42

decompressing... sorta

The group got back together after Slim and Valor took down a raging Fea, and headed back toward Old Fuero. But before that, Slim and Valor harvested some materials from the defeated worm-- Slim got a bunch of metal to make more ammo for Bessie.

Also, Earl finally heard Calypso refer to Fea as “bug” prompting him to ask about it. Calypso said it was simply a nickname, the others said it was a pet name (queue an eye roll) and then Earl teased about his nickname for Slim, which Slim refused to let him share. For now.

In Old Fuero, some locals spotted the party and sent for a doctor to come treat their wounds. Most of the group retreated to the tavern to rest, but Calypso stayed outside for the most part, repeating the ritual to bring Fea back from “death.” Eve came by later, somewhat frantically going door to door at the tavern looking for Kattie until finding her. The two of them had a gay little reunion wherein Eve got to fuss over Kattie for once.

With everyone else down for the count, Egg found Calypso outside with Fea’s body, and remained with them all night. Calypso told him to go in and get her a meal and a bottle of booze, but forgot to send him in with money, so she had to go in anyway.

In setting things up, Calypso realized Fea’s medallion was gone now, since she had given it to Corrin when he left. Egg suggested she put her token from Leawei in its place, and unwound the flower from Calypso’s horn and put it where her medallion would’ve been.

Calypso didn’t really sleep, just dozed on and off the whole night while sitting with Fea and her sword. She (along with Egg) told stories of the past for Fea to hear. Egg struggled to think of good ones, since not a lot happens back home at Barnesville. Calypso recounted the time she covered herself in oil at the monastery, in an attempt to slide all the way to the ocean.

Meanwhile, at some point Eva said she wouldn’t overwork herself anymore (or something to that effect), which the group generally reacted to with doubt. In the morning, Valor got up early and teleported to Aegis for a nice bath and some new clothes from our dearest Selma. Selma’s Sephora counter new marketing guy Auzed also did her makeup all nice for her. Earl offered his massage services to Slim that morning as well. At dawn, the sun hit Fea’s sword, and she awakened once again.

Before leaving Aegis, Valor checked out Heroic Inventions to see if her and Slim’s armor was ready. Billie wasn’t in the shop this time (ehh, they’re probably on vacation or something, nothing important or anything) but Gabe was there, and the armor (and arrows) were finally ready!

Valor teleported back to Old Fuero and bumped into Calypso and Fea on her way into the tavern. Egg scampered over to her, huddling up in her iron tiddies. Gradually the group gathered downstairs for some breakfast-- and mimosas, as Calypso suggested. She might be becoming a little snobbish about drinks, maybe.

After Calypso inhaled all the bacon and eggs in the establishment Fea asked if she wanted a bath and the two of them left for that (Caly taking along her mimosa of course). Slim, Kattie, and Valor went out and helped with construction, which is what the part originally came to Old Fuero to do, and made some gold doing so. For the record, Valor didn’t do a whole lot of physical labor-- rather she took up the important task of looking hot and passing out lemonade. Keeping up morale is key!

With another day in the books, the group rested up in Old Fuero for another night before getting back on the road in the morning. On the way to Arepal, the group (mostly Calypso) badgered Slim and Earl into sharing Earl’s little nickname for Slim from the past: cha-cha. Fea murmured the suggestion of “mister cha-cha.” We do love our dad but it’s also fun to mildly torment the guy.

Arepal! Calypso asked Slim for his remaining smokes-- just to keep him safe from Maria’s ire, of course-- but he was out of them already. As the party’s Professional Door Knocker, Calypso knocked on Maria’s door. With that, the group was ushered into Maria’s home-- even Earl, who received some mild badgering from Maria, naturally. Valor and Egg were introduced as well, though Maria seemed a little uncertain of Egg.

Maria’s house smelled of freshly baked bread, which means it was basically Heaven. Before heading out for their mission, however, Kattie and Valor hung back with Maria, claiming to have forgotten something in their bags. 👀 After a somewhat unsuccessful conversation with Maria, they headed out as well.

The party arrived at the farmhouse of their clients, and once again Calypso knocked on the door. She was greeted by a strong but silent type of man, named Nilo. They exchanged brief words and at least one silent staring contest. Ultimately his wife, a pregnant tiefling, provided the meat of the info about their mission, which was to get rid of some local avian pests with antlers harming their crops.

Once in the general vicinity of the creatures’ nest, the party wondered how to proceed for a bit (maybe Earl could use his blood to summon the creatures, like he had with the worm?) until Calypso decided to blow her dog whistle. The whistle alerted several creatures, soon identified by Valor to be perytons. She also pointed out that these creatures will attempt to tear out their enemies’ hearts and use them to mate. Hmm. Combat ensued.

Valor opened with some sharp-shot arrows and Sven maneuvers, then Calypso utilized some Dope Monk Shit(TM) to amble up a tree and start swinging (still no Redirect Attack though 😔). Multiple perytons ganged up on Fea, while Kattie busted out Shatter and dazed a few of the creatures.

Slim began to Yodel, which successfully charmed and stunned half the peryton flock. Slim would continue to Yodel for the rest of the combat, much like an opera singer. My man. But one of the unaffected perytons cursed Fea and Calypso, effectively casting Bane on them until they could pass a Wisdom save, which as you could imagine, didn’t happen for a long time. However, Kattie made her save against the effect, which allowed Slim to bust out one of his new abilities.

Unfortunately, Slim’s Yodel stunning the perytons had kinda messed up his and Kattie’s plan for a combo move, but Kattie went ahead and started casting big ol’ Destructive Waves anyway. Earl started making money moves with his scimitar, and at one point he even charmed (seduced) a peryton after smacking it around a bit.

(Fea is not a lucky person.)

Calypso put up a Shield of Faith on Kattie since she was getting swarmed a bit by perytons that Slim wasn’t able to Yodel. Valor also looked after her with a Healing Spirit, summoned in the form of Liz. Slim applied some healing to Calypso when she was in danger, while Calypso was cheering on Fea cutting down an enemy. Teamwork!

Valor used a new ability to turn invisible, which allowed her to score some really nice shots. Eventually, all of the perytons were taken down, save the one Earl had charmed. He wanted to keep it as a pet, though the group talked him out of it. Valor and Slim harvested some materials, including eggs, from the perytons and their nests.

There was some banter between Earl, Calypso, and Valor about how Valor is awfully strange for a tiefling, seeing as she gets sunburn and doesn’t use her tail during sex at all. Ultimately Calypso concluded Valor is weird but that it’s okay, even if she was goofing on her (and later on, Earl teased Valor again but Calypso defended her, and said she had her back Queue air high five). Then the group headed back to Nilo’s place.

While the group reported their success and received their payment, Fea sat outside. Afterward, everyone went back to Maria’s place to settle in for the night.

Instead of the standard knocking, Calypso used Thaumaturgy to announce their arrival with an intentionally obnoxious imitation of Slim’s “YEEHAW” just to be a little shit. Maria for him to stop making a racket and invited everyone back inside so that Slim could get started on dinner.

After dinner, Slim worked in his workshop and made a bunch of fresh ammo for Bessie. He also took Maria into another room to have a private conversation with her. Similarly, Calypso brought Fea outside with her to check in while enjoying the pretty Arepal sunset.

maybe next time we will actually FINALLY get back to Guild City

[sapphic-luthor]

hey! how are you doing today? :) I know it's kinda too late to give Lena her own set of friends, but if Lena had a friend group outside of the superfriends, what would they be like? ⭐

HELLO i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and i honestly can’t come up with anything. i don’t think lena’s the ‘group of friends’ type-- some people just aren’t. i think lena finds one friend, or only allows herself one really really close and important and throw-your-heart-into-this relationship, and then that’s it. and if it crashes and burns (lex, then andrea, then kara) she’ll try to swear friendships off again for as long as it takes to pretend she’s not still in pain. lena only knows how to love as “all in” or “none at all” and while she’s had groups of people that she’s comfortable around and who all love her, like the pre s5 superfriends, i think she’s always going to be really really drawn to one person.

(there is at least one break to these rules for sure: notably, sam. but that’s because sam arias is something untouchably unique, and if you walk casually past a woman working into the night and you say hello and she smiles Like That and laughs and tells you that you’re friends now, you grab that and hold onto the stability and comfort of it, because who wouldn’t? so sam is an outlier here, but i also think it’s been quite a while since lena and sam were really close, considering they live in different cities now and they don’t seem to have much (any) contact anymore.)