#yes they’re getting deep dish pizza

[eldritch-ace]

Anyways the panel was great and adorable

[chrisbitchtree]

The One with the Pizza and the Promise

For Harringrove Week - Day 6

Prompt - The Corner Table at Surfer Boy Pizza

750 - G

***

Steve takes a deep breath as he leads Billy to the corner table at Surfer Boy Pizza, the location by the boardwalk, the restaurant, the exact table where Billy and Steve shared their first date, talking for hours, until the manager told them they had to leave because they were closing up for the night, talking over a large pepperoni pizza and a large Coke, one cup, two straws.

It had been their first date after years of pining, wishing and wanting, hoping and dreaming that the other would be brave and make the first move, until they both had broken down in a confession of mutual desire on their first night in their new home.

They were flat broke from moving across the country, but they’d scraped together enough for the pizza and few games at a boardwalk arcade, then Steve had treated Billy to funnel cake because it was his birthday, and he deserved everything Steve could give him and more. He deserved the world, but settled for fried dough topped with ice cream and strawberries, blushing as Steve fed him a bite.

It became their tradition every year after that, spending Billy’s birthday in the corner table at Surfer Boy Pizza, followed by boardwalk funnel cake, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes surrounded by friends and family who’d travelled a long way to ensure Billy felt loved.

This year it’s just the two of them at the corner table, Steve with hearts in his eyes and a ring burning a hole in his pocket, Billy mistakenly led to believe that Lucas and Max can’t make it until tomorrow, due to flight delays. In reality, they’re waiting in the arcade to give Billy his second surprise of the night, news of a baby on the way.

He and Billy sit and talk as they wait for their pizza to arrive, Steve feeling the conversation with mindless chatter to keep his mind off his upcoming task. How’s the garage? How were Billy’s eggs this morning? Did he see the cute poodle from down the street on his morning jo? How’s Gladys, the owner of the bookstore Billy frequents?

It’s a wonder that Billy hasn’t caught onto Steve’s scheme yet, or maybe he has and is just better at keeping his cool. He hopes it’s the former, as he wants nothing more to see Billy’s eyes light up with glee when he gets down on one knee.

He glances behind the counter, where their friends Argyle and Jonathan look at him expectantly, matching grins on their faces, although Steve can’t tell if it’s excitement or the weed they most likely smoked on their break that ha them in such a good mood.

He shakes his head, hoping Billy doesn’t notice. He isn’t ready yet. He has to be sure first that he won’t puke the second he starts his speech.

Finally, the pizza arrives, and out of questions to ask about Billy’s day, he decides to pop the biggest question of all instead while they wait for the pizza to cool. It just makes good sense, because it’ll be kind of hard to focus on proposing if he’s nursing a burn on the roof of his mouth.

Taking one last deep breath, Steve kneels, watching Billy’s eyes grow wide as he takes in the site before him.

“I’ll kill you if you’re just down there tying your shoelaces,” comes Billy’s threat, at the same time as Steve starts his speech. Well, this is off to a great start.

“Look,” Steve replies, wiggling his flip-flopped foot. “Not a shoelace in sight.”

With that, he pulls out the ring and restarts his speech, a spiraling whirlwind of loving words, praises and promises for a bright and happy future together.

Billy holds out his hand, his eyes shining with tears, nodding yes, yes, yes, “Of course I’ll be your forever, if you’ll be mine?”

Steve agrees and they seal their mutual promise with a kiss, before digging into the hot and cheesy dish laid out between them.

The pizza’s on the house, Argyle announces, pulling them one after the other into a congratulatory hug and Jonathan shakes their hands.

Spotting Max and Lucas and the sharing of happy news from both sides brings fresh tears and a feeling of warmth and light and happiness that Steve will never get enough of, he’s sure of it, as long as he lives.

[starseedfxofficial]

Master Depth of Market & Bullish Pennant for Next-Level Forex Wins The Hidden Formula Behind Depth of Market and Bullish Pennant Mastery Picture this: you're at a bustling flea market, trying to haggle your way into buying that vintage lamp that you just know is the missing piece of your living room. The seller knows the exact price they want, you have a limit on how much you're willing to pay, and everyone around you is also negotiating for their own treasures. This chaotic give-and-take, my friend, is the depth of market in a nutshell. But hold on, we're not here for vintage lamps (unless, of course, they somehow boost our trading skills). We’re here to unlock the secrets behind Depth of Market (DOM) and that fancy-sounding chart pattern called the Bullish Pennant—two powerful tools that can be your ticket to catching that big move before everyone else is even awake. Think of it as spotting the last pizza slice at a party and reaching for it before anyone else realizes it's even there. In this piece, we're diving deep—way deeper than the average ‘Buy Low, Sell High’ cliché. We’ll unpack how Depth of Market gives you that juicy inside scoop on what’s really happening behind the scenes, and how a Bullish Pennant could be your cue for a "next big breakout". Ready to skip the obvious and level up? Seeing Beneath the Surface: The Depth of Market Deep Dive Depth of Market, often known as the DOM, is like reading the room in a poker game. It’s about knowing what each player—or in this case, each trader—has up their sleeve. It’s essentially a look at the orders waiting to be executed at various price levels. If you’re wondering why that matters, here’s the juicy bit: DOM is a crystal ball that helps you spot the hidden intentions of big players. It’s like catching a glimpse of a magician prepping the trick—suddenly, the impossible seems a lot more predictable. Now, this is where we get real. Most traders use DOM at a surface level—like, "Oh, look, there’s a lot of buy orders there, maybe it’ll bounce!" But a true depth reader? They’re playing a different game. It’s about finding where big institutional orders are resting. Picture them as big boulders in a river. The current—or market price—has to navigate these boulders, and knowing where they are allows you to anticipate which way the current might go. And if you’re worried that this sounds complicated, think of it like spotting the candy dish at your grandma’s house—it’s always within reach, but only if you know exactly where to look. The hidden advantage lies in observing how the big boys place and cancel their orders. And yes, we’re talking ninja-style observation—no flashy moves, just pure stealth. Spotting the Bullish Pennant Alright, so you've got your Depth of Market superpower engaged. Now let’s talk Bullish Pennant. This little beauty appears when the market's got a lot of upward momentum, but it’s just pausing for a breather—kind of like a marathoner grabbing a cup of water before charging ahead. It’s a consolidation pattern, formed after a strong move upwards, where traders are essentially regrouping before deciding to push further. The beauty of the Bullish Pennant is that it combines two powerful signals: consolidation and breakout potential. A lot of rookie traders panic during this phase—they see the market moving sideways and assume the show’s over. But here’s where the real magic happens. Smart traders know that once the consolidation ends, the pent-up energy can lead to a massive move—like a rocket that’s been stuck on the launchpad. How to Play It Like a Pro: Keep your eyes peeled for a narrowing range, followed by a volume spike as price breaks above the resistance. Remember, you want to be in before everyone else starts screaming, "Breakout!" The Underground Trend: How DOM and Pennants Team Up What if I told you that the Depth of Market and Bullish Pennants have a secret love story? Okay, maybe not quite as dramatic as Romeo and Juliet, but these two tools do work wonderfully together. Here’s how: while most traders only look at DOM to identify resistance and support, you can use it to see whether there's significant buying interest building up during the consolidation phase of a Bullish Pennant. If you notice a cluster of buy orders at certain levels while the Pennant is forming, it’s a strong indication that the market’s prepping for another leg up. It’s like seeing a bunch of people queuing up to grab concert tickets—you know something big is about to go down, and you’re already in line. Common Mistakes (And How to Laugh Them Off and Learn) Let's be real—trading mistakes happen. Like that time I went to buy EUR/USD and accidentally clicked GBP/USD. It was a classic sitcom moment where I watched the GBP plunge faster than my faith in online dating apps. But these mistakes are all part of the game, and every trader has a story or two. When it comes to Depth of Market and Bullish Pennants, the biggest mistake is thinking you can predict every move perfectly. Pro Tip: Don’t get tunnel vision. A DOM signal might be misleading if there’s a spoofing game at play—this is when a trader places large orders with no intention of executing them, just to create a false impression of supply or demand. Think of it like someone loudly proclaiming they’re about to buy the entire donut shelf at a bakery, only to walk away and leave everyone else in a frenzy. Stay nimble. Understand that DOM is best used for context, not for jumping into trades without a second thought. And Bullish Pennants? Don’t chase every single one like it’s the last bus of the night—wait for confirmations. Why Most Traders Miss Out (And How You Won’t) Here’s the truth: most traders ignore DOM and stick to what they think they know. They’re like someone who only reads the headlines and thinks they’re an expert on global politics. DOM is your opportunity to peek under the hood of market sentiment. Combine that with a Bullish Pennant setup, and you’re suddenly seeing beyond the headlines—you’re reading the fine print that others miss. To take advantage, you need patience. Let the pattern form, watch for DOM to confirm it, and be ready to act with conviction. The magic happens not when you’re rushing but when you’re quietly anticipating—ready to pounce like a cat on a laser pointer. Elite Tactics and Strategic Advantage - DOM for Confirmation: Always use Depth of Market as a secondary confirmation for your technical setups. A Bullish Pennant forming? Check DOM to see if there’s a buildup of buyers ready to push. - Patience with Pennants: The beauty of the Bullish Pennant is in the timing. It’s not just about seeing the shape; it’s about watching the market breathe, consolidating before that final upward sprint. - Avoiding Fakes: Use the DOM to watch for potential spoofing, so you don’t get caught in a trap. If orders seem to disappear just as quickly as they appear, chances are someone’s playing games. Concluding with the Punchline Depth of Market and Bullish Pennants aren’t just advanced concepts—they’re tools that, when wielded with precision, give you a massive edge over the guy just watching the news. The trick isn’t to just know about them, but to understand how to use them together to anticipate the market’s next move. Think of it like chess—you’re not just playing one piece at a time; you’re planning your strategy several moves ahead. And remember, trading doesn’t have to be stressful or overly serious. It can be a thrilling game of outsmarting the market, all while enjoying the ride—with plenty of laughs at the mistakes you’ll inevitably make along the way. After all, what’s a good story without a few twists and turns? Get Even More Out of Your Trading Journey If you found these insights helpful, why not take your trading to the next level? Here are some exclusive resources that can help you stay ahead: - Latest Economic Indicators and Forex News: Stay informed on market movements and groundbreaking concepts with real-time updates. - Forex Education: Expand your knowledge with in-depth resources, advanced methodologies, and little-known strategies. - StarseedFX Community Membership: Join for expert analysis, daily alerts, live trading insights, insider tips, and elite tactics. - Free Trading Plan: Set goals, manage risks, and track progress with our detailed trading plan. - Free Trading Journal: Enhance performance and refine strategies with real metrics using advanced methods for progress tracking. - Smart Trading Tool: Optimize your trading with automated lot size calculations, insights, and order management. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[ezcater]

Why the Deep Dish Pizza was Made for the Office Party 

Is the deep dish pizza underrated? When offices throw a pizza party, deep dish doesn’t often make the cut. Instead, you’ll find a spread of more traditional pizzas. However, this April 5—Deep Dish Pizza Day—is the perfect time to change that. This doesn’t mean traditional pies no longer have a place at the office pizza party. It means it's time to mix things up!

Deep dish pizza is the kind of pizza that can deliver a substantial bite of pizza goodness from top to bottom, toppings to crust. It’s the kind of pizza you can order from South of Chicago Italian Beef & More when you’re catering Indianapolis office pizza parties. While it might not be offered by every pizza establishment, if you can find it, it can be well worth the order. It’s a Whole Lotta Pizza Deep dish pizzas can vary from pizza place to pizza place. Some are a bit thicker than your average pizza. Others, however, go deep, offering a serious amount of pizza goodness. Either way, you can end up with a whole lotta pizza. This may mean you need fewer pies all around (which can be great for budgeting). Here’s an example of “a whole lotta pizza.” If you’re catering Wilmington NC office parties, Jay’s Incredible Pizza steps things up. You can get more traditional pies and you can go deep with offerings like their Don Chicago Style Pie Pizza (featuring pepperoni, salami, Canadian bacon, ground beef, crumbled Italian sausage, mozzarella, and marinara). It’s a Great Way to Feed a Crowd Deep dish pizzas can be “a whole lotta pizza” in a very practical sense. They’re a great way to feed a lotta people. When your office or workplace announces a pizza party, you know a few ears are going to perk up. Pizza draws a crowd. When you order more traditional pizza options, those pies tend to go fast. Deep dish pizzas, on the other hand, can go a bit slower. You can get more pizza for your party buck and because there is so much pizza per slice, people get their fill. Of course, you can always mix and match different types of pizza. That’s a great thing about pizza: you can order a few pies and get something to satisfy the whole office. The Deep Dish Pizza is Simply Underrated Is deep dish pizza underrated? The simple answer is yes! It’s not always easy to track down a highly-rated pizza place with deep dish. Some cities and regions around the country have plenty of deep dish options, while others may have only a few. It’s not always the go-to order, either. Who knows? You may have someone in your office who’s never had deep dish. Thankfully, if you’re catering Nashville office pizza parties, that’s easy enough to fix. If you think a place called Little Chicago Restaurant has deep dish pizza, you’d be on the money. They have a full section of their menu dedicated to deep dish. It doesn’t get much better than that! About ezCater ezCater is here to help connect you or your business with top-rated, local food options. ezCater is a web-based catering platform. The company started as a way to help medical sales reps find quality catering for sales meetings all over the country. Today, ezCater serves businesses of all kinds. Whether you’re searching for lunch catering for the team or need corporate catering for the entire company, ezCater can help. ezCater is available in every state and has over 100,000 catering partners coast-to-coast. You can order top Cincinnati catering for today’s lunch or put in an order for catering Dallas corporate events ahead of time. With ezCater, you get access to flexible, reliable order tools, and plenty of food options to satisfy any team! Order deep dish pizza for your next office pizza party at https://www.ezcater.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3JhVMjk

[fingertipsmp3]

I know making this decision at 11:53pm is a bad idea which is why I have not placed the order but GOD I just saw a canister of 180 strawberry twizzlers on amazon and I NEED IT

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

The Lost Ones

Read on ao3

12 Days OL Ficmas 

Summary: Jamie Fraser is dreading the upcoming holiday season, but he finds solace in his growing friendship with his neighbor, Claire Beauchamp, who is battling her own grief this year. Together, they decide to help each other through a difficult time and also work to bring a little joy at Christmas to a child in foster care.

For every year that Jamie Fraser could remember, the Christmas season was ushered in with a Fraser family trudge out to the woods to chop down their Christmas tree. In those early years of childhood, there was Willie walking beside him, helping Jamie every time he lost his too-big, hand-me-down boots in the deep snow. And for two more years after that, Jamie could recall slipping his hand into his mother’s as she walked slower than the rest of them, her lips pulled tight in a grim line. She would smile then, just a bit, when she felt his hand in hers, but she was never as happy as before they lost Willie. And then Ma was gone, with the baby too, and every year after that, it was only Da, Jenny, and Jamie making that trip.

Until this year.

This year, there would be no ushering in. No joyful, snowy trek about the grounds of Lallybroch.

This year, instead, everything started with a knock on his door.

He hadn’t seen his neighbor Claire Beauchamp since the day her world collapsed, but she stood on the other side of his door now with a casserole dish in hand ‒ a meal that he guessed she hadn’t made herself, given the glimpse he’d seen of her fridge.

“Claire? Hi. Hallo. This is…”

“I brought beef stew,” she cut in, holding the dish out to him. “As a ‒ a thank you. For the pizza.”

“Christ, ye dinna have tae ‒”

“Full disclosure, I didn’t actually make this, if that makes any difference,” she went on, and Jamie, feeling like a fool for letting her stand there with the dish in hand, took the food and stepped backwards into his flat.

“C’mon in, Claire.”

“A friend from work ‒ yes, thank you ‒ keeps sending me home with home-cooked meals from his wife and they’re starting to pile up in my fridge.” She gestured to the food he still held awkwardly in his hands. “Oh, that’s fresh, though, I just got it tonight and I figured‒” She shrugged. “Well, as a thank you,” Claire said softly.

“Ye really didna have tae…”

But she had. And she was here, in his home, with food. And truth be told, he didn’t really want her to leave. “Stay and eat wi’ me?”

Claire smiled, a small, sad thing, but it was enough to see it on her face again. “Sure. If you’d like.”

“I would.”

He glanced down at the covered dish with a small note taped to the lid, cooking instructions written in a smooth, cursive hand. “Ye’re back at work, then?” he asked, stepping over into the kitchen to turn on the oven.

“Yes,” her voice drifted in from the living room. He heard her sink into a chair. “For about a week now.”

“Can I get ye anything tae drink?”

“Have any wine?”

“Aye.”

His phone buzzed to life in his pocket while he was pouring her glass. He checked the screen ‒ Jenny calling ‒ and ignored it, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

By the time he’d walked out of the kitchen with drinks in hand, he could feel the vibrations from his phone in his pocket again, either of voicemails or follow-up texts ‒ neither of which he wanted to deal with at the moment.

“Oh hello!” Claire’s voice rose in delight, but it wasn’t him she was talking to; his cat Adso had crept out of hiding to investigate and gave Claire’s offered hand a perfunctory sniff before rubbing up against her legs. “Oh what a sweet thing you are.”

Adso arched his back into her hand as she pet him before flopping down at her feet. By the time Jamie was standing right before the pair of them, Adso’s purring was loud enough to fill the room.

“I see ye’ve met Adso.”

“Adso?” She smiled as she glanced up at him and accepted the glass of wine. His heart skittered.

“Aye. He’s verra friendly, as ye can see.”

“Yes, he is.” Her voice carried a certain, buoyant lilt he hadn’t heard before.

“He actually spent some time on my family’s farm when he was a kitten, surrounded by a bunch o’ dogs, so he acts like one sometimes too.”

The conversation ebbed and flowed as they waited for the food to heat, the stretches of silence filled with the unfolding of Claire’s burgeoning friendship with Adso as she rubbed under his chin or scratched his back.

They ate their dinner in companionable silence, and as Jamie started to clean up, refusing any assistance from Claire on the grounds that she was a guest, he watched out of the corner of his eye as she wandered back into the living room, taking a seat this time on the large sofa.

He followed into the room a few minutes later.

“What’s this?”

She held a piece of paper in her hand, looking at the messy, childish scrawl of a nine-year-old boy’s Christmas wish list. At the top of the list, with a heartbreaking strike through it, was one word:

family.

He watched her smile fade as she read it. She swallowed thickly and looked up to meet his gaze, her brows furrowed in concern. “What is this?” she asked again.

“There’s… there’s a program I signed up for this year. Ye buy a gift for a child in foster care and that’s… that’s the wish list for the boy I was assigned to.”

Claire’s gaze dropped back to the paper in her hand and the silence stretched uncomfortably between them. His phone buzzed again, noticeable in how quiet the room had become. “Ifrinn,” he muttered under his breath before he could catch himself, drawing Claire’s attention back to him.

“If now is a bad time‒”

“It’s not. Not at all. It’s only my sister.”

Understanding lit in her eyes and she nodded, but the guilt roiled in his stomach at the sight. He’d told her, the last time. Told her that Jenny was the only family he had left and now here he was in a fight with her that Claire didn’t know anything about.

“If you need to take the call, please do. I can go‒”

“No,” he said a little too forcefully, panicked. “It’s nothing. It’s‒”

Claire had told him she was an only child, so he hesitated. Would she understand? He would give his life to protect his sister just as quickly as he would wring Jenny’s neck himself.

His eyes met Claire’s and he recalled the state she was in, the day she came home after learning of her uncle’s sudden and unexpected passing. How the loss of her only remaining relative had rattled her so… The man was like a father to her, she’d said. Oh, aye, he knew that wound went deep. And so, maybe Claire would understand that piece of it…

“I’m no’ going home fer Christmas this year. I just told my sister today. She’s… not happy. So.” He cleared his throat.

She drew in a deep breath in the silence, her face giving away the battle over what to say. “It is hard, isn’t it?” Her arms wrapped around herself and she shrugged. “I’m not looking forward to the holidays without my Uncle Lamb. I’m completely dreading it, if I’m being honest.”

“Aye,” Jamie sighed, the relief of being understood mingling with the guilt and the grief. Since he’d lost his father, it was always like that; everything and all too much, all at once. “That’s why I canna go home, ye see? It’s too… too soon.” He cleared his throat, resolute in his effort not to cry in front of her. “So,” he gestured to the piece of paper still in her hand, half-forgotten by the turn in their conversation, “I thought… mebbe do something for someone else this Christmas so that theirs might be a little better.”

Claire nodded, her eyes looking suspiciously glassy. “It’s a nice idea.” She flipped the page around so it faced him, the crossed-out word being the thing his eyes were drawn to. “Breaks your heart a bit, though, doesn’t it?” she asked, and he knew she meant the dashed-through wish.

“Aye,” he said into his glass just before he took a swig of his whiskey. “Suddenly just buying the lad a wee gift feels woefully insignificant. What kind of loss has he known at such a young age?”

“Same as you and me, I’d imagine.”

Something in her words made his heart trip in rhythm and he looked up to find her gaze on the fire, so he let his eyes linger on her a beat longer than perhaps he should have, drinking in the delicate slope of her profile.

He hadn’t meant to share so much of his loss with her the last time they spoke, but she had laid everything bare in her state of shock, and he felt compelled to level the score. And they’d walked away from that day with the knowledge that they’d both been small children when they lost one or both of their parents, and they were both in their twenties now when they lost a father or father figure. Same as you and me, Claire had said. The heavy losses he’d suffered had always made him feel so alone, never knowing anyone else in his life who had gone through anything quite like that. But now there was Claire, who understood maybe too well a pain he’d have spared her from if he could. And yet… Whatever this magnetic pull between them was, he didn’t want to lose it.

“I think everyone could do with a little bit of kindness right now,” Claire broke the silence. “Especially our young…” she scanned the page again for a name, “Fergus, here. I’ll help you pick out a gift, if you’d like?”

“Aye, I would like that. Thank ye.”

She didn’t stay long, leaving what was left of the stew with him since, she’d pointed out, the pizza had fed her for days. He didn’t fight her, because as much as she’d smiled and been pleasant company, he could see the recognizable struggle in her; when you’d lost someone so important to you, even simple things became a chore.

He said goodnight and stood in the doorway, watching to make sure she made it down the hall to her flat without any trouble.

 -----

For every Christmas of her childhood that Claire Beachamp could remember, she and Uncle Lamb were somewhere new and exciting in the world whenever December rolled around. Every Christmas, even once she was grown and Uncle Lamb had settled in Glasgow to teach, still revolved around the man who’d taken in a scared, grieving five-year-old and given her a family ‒ a small one, just the two of them, but one that she wouldn’t have traded for anything in the world.

The Christmas season had arrived, whether she was ready or not, with her world still so off-kilter. This year there was no anchor for her home. No lively, eccentric soul for which her entire holiday season would revolve around.

And suddenly the whole city of Glasgow felt empty and desolate without his light in it. She’d come here after medical school to work and to be closer to him, and now she couldn’t bear to be anywhere except the hospital.

So the knock on her front door startled her. She’d done a good job these last few weeks of hiding from the rest of the world ‒ except from Joe, who wouldn’t put up with that even if she’d tried ‒ and couldn’t fathom who would be bothering her now.

Claire looked through the peephole and then sank back onto her heels. Right. Jamie Fraser. She pulled the door open and leaned her side against it. “Hello, stranger.”

He held out the dish she’d brought over only a few days ago, pristinely cleaned now. “Thought I should return this to ye,” he said, holding it out to her with a half-smile.

“So that I can return it to Joe?” She accepted it from him. “Though, I might wait a bit or he’ll send me home with more food the next day.”

“No’ the worst-case scenario,” he said with a cheeky grin ‒ was he teasing her? “It was delicious.”

“I’ll tell his wife you said so.” The words were out of her mouth before she could consider why she’d said them. Telling Joe Abernathy she’d had dinner with her neighbor ‒ a man ‒ was out of the question and the fact that she’d brought Gail’s food over to share with him would tickle Joe too much. No, she’d never hear the end of his questions over who the man was and when he could meet him.

Jamie cocked his head at that.

She shook her head a bit, flustered. “Never mind. Uh, how are you?”

A strange look crossed his face and for a moment, she thought he might be the one who was flustered. He cleared his throat. “This may seem like a strange request, but my best friend John is on his way over to drag me to a holiday party after I already told him I’m no’ interested in going and I‒” All the teasing light went out of the moment with the look in his eyes. He shrugged, trying to play it off as not all that serious, but she knew the look of a person drowning. Had seen it enough the past few weeks reflected back at her in the mirror each day. “I told him I had other plans and he called my bluff.”

“Always happy to harbor a fugitive,” she joked, hoping it eased some of his worry. “Get on in here.”

He exhaled a smile, a small relieved thing, and ducked his head as he entered, his ears faintly pink at the tips.

“You’re lucky this was tonight and not last night when I was working the night shift.”

She closed the door and turned to find Jamie walking into the open living room. She hadn’t noticed before how completely he filled a space with his presence, but the only other time he’d been here was after she’d been sent home from work after learning about her Uncle Lamb. Jamie had taken one look at her face on the lift and known something was wrong.

That day was a blur, but Jamie’s kindness had stayed with her.

“It’s a nice place ye have here.”

“Thank you. No Adso here, though, so I think yours has me beat.”

He smiled at that. “Would ye get a pet of yer own someday?”

“Someday, perhaps. Not exactly the best fit with my hours at the hospital but…” she shrugged, “yeah, maybe someday.”

She sank into the sofa, tucking one leg in, and gestured for him to have a seat as well. “So this friend of yours?”

“Oh aye, John…” Jamie took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “He means well. Truly. He’s one of my best friends and… weel, I think he’s just worrit about me. No’ that he doesna have cause to, but… I dinna think going to a party will make me miss my da any less. If anything, I think it would only make me miss him more wi’ everyone asking how I’m holding up.”

“Oh god.” Claire shook her head. “The first day back at the hospital for me… Everyone was so kind, but all the questions and the hugs and condolences. I never had a moment where I wasn’t being reminded! Someone even asked about how my parents were holding up, not knowing…”

“Aye, when I went back to work, it was to a classroom full of eleven- and twelve-year-olds who dinna ken what’s appropriate tae say to their teacher who’s just lost his father.”

Claire winced in sympathy.

“They’re no’ bad kids, though,” Jamie amended quickly. “Not at all. Most o’ them were quite sweet about it but aye those first few days back…”

“How long has it been for you? You never said.”

“Three months. So, first Christmas.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aye, thank ye. I’m sorry… fer ye too.” He wiped his palms down his jean-clad thighs. “If ye ever need a place tae hide from well-intentioned friends trying tae drag ye to a Christmas party, my door is always open.”

She exhaled a laugh. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

A gentle lull settled over the room.

“We could do that, you know.”

Jamie’s head swivelled at that. “Do what?”

“We could be each other’s… I don’t know, support system? Excuse for getting out of holiday obligations?”

For one horrible second, she thought maybe she was alone in wanting that with him ‒ needing it, really ‒ until his face lit up with a grin, the sight of which flooded her with relief. “Aye, we could do that.”

“Good. That’s settled then,” she said, smiling. “Is your friend really on his way here or did he only say that?”

“Oh, John isna above literally dragging me places when he feels it’s called for.”

“I see.”

“Actually‒” He stopped abruptly when his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Christ, that’s him calling now. Hold on.”

Jamie answered the phone, keeping his voice rather soft, though there wasn’t any risk of someone being able to hear them even with John being just down the hall.

“I already told ye I had plans… No, I’m no’ just sitting at home wi’ the cat. I’m out. With a friend…”

She saw the way his expression changed at whatever was said on the other end of the line. “Her name is Claire,” he added, sounding somewhat reluctant. His gaze swung over to her then and he held the phone away from his ear, looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. “Ye dinna have to, but John asked to‒”

She held out her hand for the phone, smiling slightly at his panic. “All part of the bargain, I suppose.”

“Hello?”

She was surprised to hear the voice of a fellow Brit on the other line. “Yes, hello, this is Claire.” She held the phone back from her ear when there was no immediate response, wondering if the line had dropped.

“Christ, he wasn’t lying…” came through the speaker, though she wasn’t entirely sure John was talking to her directly.

“No, I’m a real person…” she intoned dryly, which got a snort out of Jamie.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I’m his best friend and he’s never told me about you,” John went on apologetically. Claire took the opportunity to become very interested in picking the bits of lint stuck to her leggings, hoping Jamie couldn’t see how flushed her face had become. And why would Jamie tell his best friend about the erratic neighbor who encountered him on her way home from receiving the worst news and burst into tears right in front of him? What right had she to feel embarrassed about John’s little admission?

“Listen, I’m sure he told you about the party. Truth is, I don’t really care if he wants to go or not. It’s madness every year and always ends with Rupert and Angus getting into a bloody drunken brawl. But… can you promise me something, Claire?”

Her gaze flicked over to Jamie, wondering if he could hear from his spot all that John was saying to her or not. Subconsciously, she pressed the phone a little harder to her ear. “Of course.”

Of course, she’d said, and she didn’t even know the man. Didn’t even know Jamie, really, though she felt like she did.

“Just… don’t leave him alone, yeah? I don’t know what he’s shared with you, but he’s going through a bit of a rough time the last few months and today was hard, I think ‒ of course he’s so stubborn, he won’t talk. That’s the only reason I pushed him about the party.”

She did understand, better than John could know. “Alright,” was all she said, ever so conscious of the way Jamie’s gaze hadn’t left her face since he’d handed her the phone.

“What was all that about?” Jamie asked, taking the phone back. Whatever John said, it cracked a smile from Jamie. He wrapped up the call quickly, sending an arched brow in Claire’s direction. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I can tell he’s a good friend. He cares about you.”

“Aye, he is, but he’s also a worrywort.”

She thought of her friend Joe then, how he’d been shoving meals at her every time he saw her just to make sure she was still eating. As much as his pestering could get on every last nerve, she was grateful for him ‒ and glad that Jamie had a friend like that in his life.

“So,” Jamie clapped his hands together and gave her a crooked smile, “What did he say to ye?”

“Oh, no. That is between me and John.”

“You and John? Ye dinna even ken the man!”

“How dare you. After the conversation we’ve just had, I now consider him a very dear friend.”

“Oh Lort, it was a mistake tae ever introduce ye. The last thing I need is the two Sassenachs in my life joining forces against me.”

“Hey!” She pelted him with the closest throw pillow. “I know what that word means, you arse.”

He uttered an apology, but given that he was still red-faced with laughter, she refused his apology and whacked him with the pillow again for good measure.

“So how did you meet John?”

“John and the other lads who will be at the party are all friends from university.”

“He did mention something about the night typically ending in a brawl between Rupert and…”

“Angus. He told ye that? Aye those two clot-heids always o’erdo it.”

He glanced at his phone and took a deep breath. “Weel, I should get out of yer hair. I’m sure John is long gone by now. And my coming over here unannounced and all, I dinna wish tae ruin yer evening plans.”

“Actually, I… I was having a bit of a rough day, truthfully. I appreciate the company. You can stay if you’d like. We can watch a movie? Not Christmas-related, of course. And I think I have some popcorn somewhere.”

Jamie had already settled back into the sofa, his body language telling of his desire to stay ‒ a sign that made her absurdly pleased. “Aye, but how long ago did that expire?”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. “James Fraser!”

His hands flew up in self-defense, blocking the throw pillow. “It’s a valid question! Last time I was here, yer milk had expired.”

“That’s different,” she insisted, getting up to make popcorn ‒ for herself at least if he didn’t want any. “Popcorn doesn’t expire nearly as fast as milk.”

She grabbed a popcorn bag from the cabinet and removed the plastic wrap. And, just because, she checked for an expiration date. And stilled in her trek to the microwave. Her gaze flew to Jamie in the sitting room, but he was facing the television, already scrolling through her Netflix account.

Well… expiration dates were always more of a suggestion anyway.

 By the time he was leaving her home, Jamie looked less rattled than when he’d entered, which pleased her more than she cared to admit. It had been a bit of a shock to see him so… so lost. Every previous interaction with Jamie Fraser, he’d always seemed so steady and certain.

But it had only been three months, he’d said. It’d only been three weeks for her and she couldn’t imagine she’d be in a different place in her grief in just a mere few months’ time.

She must’ve passed Jamie so many times in the hall and on the lift during those months without knowing what secret hell he was going through. She couldn’t have known, but she wished somehow that she had. At least she was able to return the favor in some way tonight, offering refuge from social obligations.

Jamie was halfway out of the door when she called him back. “Oh, hey, Fraser?”

His head popped back into view.

“I should probably grab your number‒ for the boy. For gift shopping. So we can schedule a time to go?”

She was mortified to feel her face flush ‒ why had it flushed, over a perfectly reasonable suggestion? ‒ and it only deepened at his responding smile and slow, owl-eyed blink.

God, Jamie Fraser would be the death of her.

 -----

He knocked at Claire’s door one day to collect her for their shopping trip and they walked out of the building, side-by-side, into the blustery winter evening. She was bundled up in a thick coat with woolen hat, scarf, and mittens, but still leaned further into him whenever the wind kicked up.

Jamie balled his hands into fists, not purely as a reaction to the cold, but against the damn near-impossible-to-resist urge to wrap one arm around her shoulders and tuck her fully into his side and shield her.

“Should’ve taken a car,” he muttered aloud. “We can still‒”

“It’s alright. The shops aren’t far.”

They weren’t far, but the night was bloody cold. By the time they arrived at the first shop, their wind-whipped cheeks and noses were red and they were both chilled to the bone, escaping from the wind and frigid temperature only to be drawn into the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping. Christmas music played over the loudspeaker, and every aisle they turned down involved shuffling and bumping past other shoppers.

They’d been in the store for a full twenty minutes before Jamie realized neither of them had spoken a word, nor were they really taking in what they were seeing. He glanced down at Claire to see her staring through the mess of loud, too-happy people.

“I read something recently,” he leaned down towards her as he spoke. “About grief. About… going out in the world again after losing someone.”

Claire’s gaze snapped up to his, giving her full attention as they continued to wind their way down an aisle.

“Someone was sharing about their experience after losing a parent and they said something that stuck wi’ me. They said they understood why the Victorians had worn black armbands when in mourning, because it signified to the rest o’ the world around them that they were no’ ready to engage wi’ it yet. I’d never thought of it that way.”

He gave a slight, sweeping gesture to their surroundings. “Kind of feels like what this is… Feeling no’ ready to engage wi’ all the holiday fanfare.”

“And like we don’t quite fit in with all the shiny, happy people,” Claire added with a wry smile.

“Aye, exactly.”

Her shoulder bumped into his as they walked. Nearby, a child was shrieking with joy, accentuating the gap between where he and Claire stood apart from the rest of the world just then.

They fell silent again, winding through the store and glancing at the shelves of toys without any spark of interest.

“There’s another toy store around the corner, we could pop in there,” Jamie suggested. Claire nodded, and they walked out into the cold night, greeted with twinkling lights and chunky snowflakes starting their slow saunter to the ground. At another time, in another life, it might’ve lifted Jamie’s spirit.

The next shop was smaller, filled with less of the joyful chaos than the other, but Jamie still felt a little lost perusing the shelves there. Claire had fallen silent again, seemed a little distant even from him.

“What d’ye get a boy who really wants something ye canna give him?” He mused aloud.

“I’m sorry,” Claire murmured. “I offered to help and I feel like I’m not very helpful.”

“Nah, you’re no’ doing anything wrong, Sassenach. I thought something would jump out at me if I just wandered through the stores, but mebbe I should’ve done some research first.”

“When do you need to have the gift for him?”

“By December 21.”

“Well,” Claire said with a slight sigh of relief. “We have a bit of time left yet.”

Oh it’s we now, is it?

Her shoulder bumped into his again, and he wondered if both times had been intentional. “Try for another day?”

“Aye,” he gave her a weak smile. “Sorry to have dragged ye out into the cold fer nothing.”

Claire only shook her head at that, and they braced for the walk home. They beat the snow before it piled high overnight, but they were both covered in a thick dusting by the time they reached their building.

“I’ll text ye? We can plan for another day then,” he said when they’d reached Claire’s door. She nodded with a slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and bid him goodnight before slipping into her flat, leaving Jamie alone in the hallway.

Some small voice in his head told him he’d mucked this up somehow. Should’ve known beforehand what he wanted to buy the boy, should’ve never taken Claire to that first store…

Jamie slipped his key into the lock and turned, pushing the front door open. Adso came running to greet him, meowing and circling around his legs.

“Ye always do that, and I’m always worrit I’m gonna step on you,” he grumbled, scooping the cat up so that Adso was out of danger.

The image of Claire’s downcast face as she slipped quietly inside her own home was still running through his mind. “But she did say we had time, Adso,” he went on, as if the cat had known his thoughts. “So that’s not for nothing, aye?”

 -----

Claire Beauchamp began to fill more and more of Jamie’s days, out of solidarity for their agreement of helping each other through the difficult season. Her schedule being a bit more unpredictable than his, it had become a routine that she would text or stop by every now and then, on the evenings she wasn’t working during the week. And on the days that were hard, filled with aching loss or Jenny’s resentment, those moments became a lifeline for Jamie.

On one such day, he heard that familiar rap on the door and spotted Adso scrambling out of the bedroom and headed from the entryway. “Oh dinna be so obvious, ye lovesick fool,” he nudged Adso back from the door with his foot, and the cat meowed in protest.

He only realized that he was already smiling as he opened the door by the way it dropped sharply at the sight of Claire.

Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and she stood before him with her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself. “Hey,” she offered weakly, and cleared her throat, looking back over her shoulder in the direction of her flat like maybe she was about to lose whatever courage had brought her here and bolt instead.

Jamie caught her gently by the elbow and tugged her forward into his arms, letting the door close behind her. With a sigh, all the tension she held in her body went away, and her arms circled around his back. He tucked her head under his chin, and tried not to dwell on how right it felt to hold her, how perfectly situated her head was against the hollow of his neck.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just… a rough day at work.”

He let that go without further prodding, though the realization came a moment too late that while he’d had his fair share of rough days at work, for Claire that came with a heavier toll when it was life on the line. He swallowed thickly and didn’t voice the question. Didn’t want to make her say it if it was true.

“Have ye had anything to eat yet?”

She shook her head against him.

He became aware of how long he’d been holding her like this, having long since surpassed what could be considered just a hug. But she had made no move to extricate herself from him.

“I could whip us up something to eat?”

She stilled and then pulled back slightly to look up at him. The heaviness of the day was still there in her face but she cracked a wry smile in spite of it ‒ a small act that he was proud of her for, knowing how hard won those could be. “‘Whip us up something to eat’? Have you been holding out on me, Fraser? This whole time I’ve known you, and you know how to cook? I can’t believe I fed you Gail’s cooking.”

He exhaled a startled laugh. “Never said I was any good at it, don’t get yer hopes up.”

She had eased away from him ‒ it had happened naturally with the shift in conversation, but he still mourned the loss of her in his arms. Adso had perched himself on the armrest of the sofa nearest them,and was looking up at Jamie longingly. “Here, this wee fellow is good company on a rough day.” Jamie said as he scooped up Adso and passed him over to Claire and watched her snuggle the cat close. His breath snagged in his throat.

-----

Claire hadn’t intended for the night to turn into this; Jamie at the stove, whipping up a meal for them and occasionally speaking over his shoulder to her, and Jamie’s cat purring in her lap as she sat on his sofa. She wasn’t sure what she had intended when she’d shuffled down the hall to his door, other than she was certain she didn’t want to be alone on this night, and Jamie was… Jamie was the only person who made her feel less alone in her grief.

And Jamie hadn’t lied; Adso was good company, purring non-stop as she stroked his soft fur and scratched behind his ears.

She pushed away the thought that this rather mundane, domestic moment in Jamie’s home was something she could get used to. Just because you are a wreck, falling for your neighbor in the midst of your life being turned upside-down, doesn’t mean he reciprocates those feelings.

Oh, but when Jamie set a plate down of steaming stir-fry in front of her, beaming proudly, it was hard to say with certainty that he didn’t feel anything toward her… Maybe there was something there…

Dinner was comfortably quiet, filled with the occasional soft-spoken word and shoo-ing the cat when Adso hopped onto the dining table looking to supplement his own dinner.

“That was very good,” Claire sighed contently, leaning back in her chair with hands crossed over her full stomach. “Though, this also means you’re back in hot water for hiding this special talent of yours.”

Jamie laughed that off as he collected their plates, though she noticed that the tips of his ears had gone faintly pink. She smiled to herself.

“I hope I didn’t intrude too heavily on your evening.”

“No, not at all,” he said quickly from the kitchen. “Just have a few quizzes to grade tonight.”

She nodded at that, and polished off her glass of wine.

“Ye can stay and help me grade them?”

Claire glanced up to find him watching her, feigning indifference as he waited for her answer.

Stay and help him grade quizzes? After he’d fed her dinner and she’d snuggled his cat? Some small part of her brain that strived for her to stay self-sufficient in life screamed at her leave and stop indulging in… whatever this was with Jamie.

“Deal,” she said, a little too forcefully.

He handed her a stack of papers and a pen, and she settled into the sofa beside him. She skimmed the top of the page and didn’t get very far. “Jamie.”

“Hmm?” He played his tone off as nonchalance but she heard the amusement hiding there.

“This is all in… what is this, Gaelic?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I told ye that I teach Gaelic, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but how am I supposed to help you grade these, you arse?”

He finally cracked, smiling at her name-calling, and retrieved another paper for her. “Here’s the answer key. I reckon that should help.”

“Yes,” she snapped it out of his hands with mock-annoyance, “I reckon it should.”

She was determined to actually be of help to him, so she stayed quiet for a while, until she started to get a rhythm going with the grading. “What made you want to teach Gaelic?”

One corner of his mouth quirked, an almost smile. “I had a fantastic Gaelic teacher when I was a lad. He was so passionate about preserving the language. Made me want to master it, and then when I was older, I thought I could see myself teaching. And…” His voice dropped a little lower, softer, “my ma spoke Gaelic, too. She was the one who first taught me some o’ the language.”

She hummed softly. He’d told her, obviously, about when he lost his mother, but not of the woman herself. “Do you remember her much?”

“Aye, better than I can remember Willie at least.”

“Your poor dad. I can’t imagine…”

“Aye.” Jamie flipped the paper into the completed pile and grabbed a new quiz. “Those first few years after we lost my ma were tough… my da was so heartsick but he still wanted to be present for me and Jenny. There were better years when I was a little older, but I dinna think one ever really gets over that kind of loss.”

“No,” Claire sighed softly. “I don’t think so either. And I’m sorry… for you and your sister, that’s hard for you too.”

He swallowed thickly and didn’t respond.

“How’s it going with your sister?”

“Oh, that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mailed her the Christmas gifts for the bairns ‒ she has two weans, did I tell ye? ‒ and uh… well, it’s no’ going well wi’ Jenny, no. She’s threatening to hide the gifts from them tae try and make me come up for the holiday and give them to the bairns myself.”

“God. I’m so sorry, Jamie.”

“Aye, well, that’s Jenny for ye. Stubborn as a mule.”

She shook her head despairingly. While it didn’t excuse Jenny’s behavior, it was painfully obvious to Claire that both Frasers were struggling and, while she had no real knowledge of what it meant to have a sibling, she did find it equal parts fascinating and frustrating that they seemed incapable of seeing the struggles of the other.

“Probably grateful ye’re an only child, huh?”

She snorted softly. “To be honest, no, I always wished I had a brother or sister. Oh, this child’s handwriting is terrible. How am I supposed to grade their work if I can’t tell what the fuck they wrote?”

Jamie laughed at her sudden outburst, glancing at the paper in front of her. “Oh aye, that’s Rabbie MacNab, most o’ his work is illegible but he’s verra bright and works hard, puir handwriting aside. Here, I’ll grade that one.”

She handed the paper over to him and resumed grading the next one.

“Jenny got to see our da a lot more than I did, in recent years,” Jamie began, head bent over the paper in front of him. Claire stilled in her work, listening. “She lived close-by tae Lallybroch still and especially once she had the bairns, she’d bring them over tae see their granda at least once a week.” He smiled suddenly, despite the heaviness of his words and the apparent longing. “He loved Jenny’s bairns in a way I’ve never seen wi’ him before. He was so happy and besotted wi’ them.” He swallowed roughly and the silence stretched between them. Claire’s gaze fell back to her own paper.

“Anyway, I didn’t get up to Lallybroch as often, being settled here in Glasgow now. So Jenny saw him more often. And Jenny remembers the last time she saw our da and the last words they shared. I dinna ken which time was the last I saw my father. Dinna recall our last words. And that’s no’ Jenny’s fault, but… she has that knowledge for herself at least and she‒” He broke off suddenly and she was powerless to stop the impulse to touch him in some way, offering some bit of comfort; she reached out and her hand smoothed over his russett curls.

Jamie took a deep breath. “It’s no’ so much that I don’t want to be around Jenny as I’m just… struggling wi’ the unfairness of it all. Some people have their whole family wi’ them. But my da had to lose two wee sons and my ma all within two years and‒ and then to suffer through those losses and no’ even live to see 50… to die before Jenny’s bairns would ever really know him. Now if I ever have bairns of my own…” His voice drifted off, letting the sentence hang. They both knew well enough the regret and the longing tied up in that thought.

Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face. “I canna help but feel… angry. And I dinna ken who to even be angry at. Other than God, I suppose. Because it doesn’t feel right or fair that my family has suffered so greatly.”

His gaze flitted over to meet hers.

“I can understand that,” she murmured. “The anger, at least. I know our situations aren’t exactly the same. And I didn’t expect… I mean, I love my Uncle Lamb very much, but it also feels like his death… kicked open a door I had shut a long time ago, and suddenly, I’m grappling with being an orphan at twenty-seven even though my parents have been gone since I was five. And I feel small and broken and five years old all over again. I feel like I’ve‒ like I’ve backtracked. Like I’ve lost my way a little, and I don’t know where to go from here.”

He made a small sound at the back of his throat and reached for her. She was gathered up against Jamie’s side, her head coming to lay on his chest. For the second time tonight, she settled into the safety of his embrace and wondered if she could ever go back to how it was before she’d entered his flat tonight. Some nebulous thing had shifted between them, even before Jamie had opened up to her. Maybe even before tonight, if she was being honest.

“Jamie,” she looked up at him, and registered at that moment how close his face was to hers. Her gaze dropped to his lips, so close to her own, and flicked back up to his eyes. She swallowed roughly. “What are we doing?”

-----

“Jamie… what are we doing?”

It wasn’t, he thought, a question posed in the literal sense. And with her face mere inches from his own, staring up at him, he responded in the only way he could think to answer her question.

His hand cupped her jaw as he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft against his, and he felt her fingers card through his hair, taking hold at the nape of his neck.

It was a thought that had hounded him the last few weeks — what would it feel like to kiss Claire Beauchamp, how would she taste on his tongue? He tilted his head, seeking further access to her mouth, and swallowed a delicious sound from her.

And he kept kissing her to stop the rush of words to his tongue that even his foolish brain knew were too premature to admit out loud: That he’d wanted her from the first moment he saw her in the hallway of their building, but he’d loved her since that day she’d wept in his arms and allowed him to care for her.

 -----

“This one, this is it,” Jamie said decidedly.

“You’re sure?”

“Aye, look, the lad says on his wishlist that he loves football, and he can practice his juggling and tricks wi’ this.” He bounced the smart ball on his thigh to demonstrate as it counted out loud.

“Alright,” Claire said with a laugh, and he relished the sound. “Well, this was much easier the second time around.”

They purchased Fergus’s gift and began their stroll back towards home. They’d gone on a Saturday afternoon this time, which didn’t help much with the crowds, but the sunshine peeking through the clouds had lifted their spirits.

And… well, they were both feeling a bubbly, infectious joy in each other now, a little at war with their grief, and they were simply stumbling through it ‒ the grief and the joy and the confusion of it all. Claire’s hand slipped into his and squeezed tight.

“So what’s next now that we have the gift?”

“We could choose to just drop off the gift at any time before Dec 21st but… there’s also a holiday fundraiser on that day for the kids and we do have the option of attending and being able to give the lad his gift in person.” He chanced a sideways glance at Claire. “What d’ye think, Sassenach? Would ye like to meet wee Fergus?”

 -----

Their one concession for the holiday season became the banquet, a chance to meet the lad who had become something of a kindred spirit to them before they even met him. Without knowing his story, regardless if he had been orphaned or abandoned, they each knew the sharp pain of not having parents to belong to.

It felt like the first tentative step in his and Claire’s newly formed relationship, going to the holiday event together. The sight of Claire standing in his doorway, all dolled up and looking up at him with that coy smile of hers had his stomach doing somersaults.

“Dinna ken why I’m nervous,” he whispered to her, gift in his hands, as one of the event coordinators went to find Fergus and facilitate an introduction. They stood in a banquet hall starting to fill with people, some of the children flocked together near the large Christmas tree.

Claire let out a soft laugh. “It’s alright. I’m a little nervous too.”

The woman returned with a boy by her side. Fergus had a slight, lanky build, and striking blue eyes peering out from under a mop of unruly brunette curls.

“Jamie and Claire, this young man is Fergus,” the woman introduced brightly. “Fergus, they brought you a gift for Christmas.”

“Hallo, laddie,” Jamie stuck his hand out and shook Fergus’s hand.

“Bonjour,” he replied.

“Oh, Fergus dear, use yer English tonight,” the coordinator corrected him.

“Il n'a pas à le faire. je comprend,” Jamie spoke up, which startled Claire and the volunteer into silence. Fergus’s whole face lit up and words poured out of him so fast, he could hardly catch his breath.

Claire sidestepped a little closer to the woman who had brought Fergus over as he and Jamie chatted excitedly. That Jamie also spoke fluently in French was a bit of a surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t have been, with the fact that he taught Gaelic for a living. What other languages did he know, she wondered? “Is Fergus from France then?” she murmured, out of curiosity. “Or perhaps lived there for a time?”

The woman gave a slight, sad smile. “We don’t know much of Fergus’s story before he entered the system last year. He can speak English fluently, but it’s very clear that French is his native tongue.”

“And his name really is Fergus? Or‒”

“No, that’s his name! That’s the name he went by, at least.”

Claire’s gaze turned back to Jamie and the boy. She knew bits of conversational French, but Jamie carried on effortlessly with young Fergus.

“Your husband is wonderful with him. Have ye two ever considered fostering?”

“Oh. He’s not ‒ we’re just…” Claire let the sentence hang, long enough for the woman to get an idea. The woman’s eyes widened.

“My apologies‒”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Claire waved a hand dismissively, wanting more than anything to move on from having to define whatever this was between her and Jamie, so new that they hadn’t stuck a label to it. “And it’s true, Jamie is very good with children. He’s actually a teacher.”

 -----

Jamie had purposefully navigated the conversation with Fergus around to football in advance of giving him his Christmas gift, feeling his own excitement bubbling up as Fergus’s love of the sport became very plain.

“Here, I want to make sure you have the chance to open this before the festivities start soon,” he added in French, handing the wrapped gift to Fergus.

He glanced over and saw that Claire was watching them as well. He attempted a wink at her, which only made Claire’s smile deepen, and turned back to see Fergus’s reaction. The boy dug into the gift bag and retrieved the smart football, taking a moment to read packaging with a furrowed brow. Suddenly, his face brightened and he uttered a heartfelt thank-you.

“Ye’re very welcome lad,” Jamie switched to English, wanting to include Claire in the moment as he held his hand out to her to join them.

“We hope you have a very happy Christmas,” Claire added.

“Thank you, Milady,” Fergus said cheekily with a slight bow, and Jamie felt his rib straining against the bottle-up laughter. “I wish the same to you and your husband.”

He noticed Claire’s face turning beat-red out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh, no, we’re just…”

Fergus’s face scrunched in confusion. He turned back to Jamie. “You haven’t married her yet? Why not?”

“Fergus,” the woman cut in, her tone the only warning she issued.

The boy shrugged. “If that is the case then, Mademoiselle,” he turned to Claire, “can I just say that you have very beautiful‒” His hands cupped in front of his chest, but before he could finish his sentence, his arm was seized by the volunteer who’d brought him over.

“Fergus, I believe it’s time you rejoin the rest of the children.”

“Thank you again for the gift!” he shouted to them as he was led back to the group of children. “I absolutely love it!”

“That was…”

“What just happened? And why does everyone here think we’re married?”

“Wait, what?”

But before she could clarify on that point, Claire turned her face into his shoulder, shaking with laughter, and it triggered his own.

“Cheeky wee devil,” Jamie managed, once he’d sobered up from the laughter.

Claire shook her head, still smiling bright. “I’m obsessed with him. What a character.”

He nosed in at her temple and pressed a kiss there. “I’m glad we did this.”

She gave him a soft look, eyes twinkling with merriment. “Me too.”

They stayed through the rest of the evening’s program, but never bumped into young Fergus again. Still, he was top of mind for both of them as they left the event.

“D’ye think that wee lad will get his family after all?”

“I hope so. He deserves a loving home.”

The night was chilly but windless, and he breathed in the crisp, clean air and saw his breath on the exhale. Claire’s hand slipped through his arm and held on. They had taken his car tonight, but it was a bit of a walk to the car park. “I wish we could know, somehow,” he mused.

“Maybe we’ll see him again.”

He glanced down at her and found her own expression a little startled at her words, like she hadn’t meant to say them out loud. She shrugged helplessly and dropped her gaze. “Don’t ask me what possessed me to say that; I couldn’t say. Just a feeling, I guess.”

He exhaled a laugh and let it go. They reached his car and climbed in.

“I’m working tomorrow night, but do you have plans for the night after that?”

Jamie started the engine and made sure the heat was going, but didn’t move to put the car in drive. Claire’s words hung in the air, the typical start to a conversation they had quite a few times a week now, sorting out their schedule with each other. “That’s the 23rd, aye?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking… I might go up tae Lallybroch for Christmas after all.”

Surprise flickered across her features but it was swiftly followed by a smile. “I think you should.”

“Aye?”

“Yes, absolutely. If that’s what your heart is telling you to do, then go be with your sister over Christmas. I think that would be so good for both of you.”

He returned her smile, but also didn’t miss the rest that she was trying to hide ‒ the reality of what her days would look like if he left. Jamie took a deep breath, hoping that she went along with his next thought as easily as she had the first. “I was also thinking that ye should come wi’ me.”

“What?”

“Look, Jenny and I will both probably be miserable all day anyway, so ye dinna need to worry about putting on a happy face fer us. And the kids will just be happy it’s Christmas and won’t take any notice if the adults are a bit more sad than usual, and,” he shrugged shyly, “they’re a good distraction. They’re cute kids, ye’ll like them. I think,” he added, realizing how bold he sounded. He drew in another deep breath, feeling like his heart was about to march right out of his chest. “Come wi’ me. It’s going tae be a terrible holiday anyway, but I’d ‒ I’d like it verra much if ye were there. And I did promise tae support ye through this season and I canna do that verra well if ye’re no’ with me.”

She was gnawing on her bottom lip without an immediate answer for him. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“No gifts, no pressure or expectations, none o’ that. I promise. All I want fer Christmas… is you.”

He savored the sound of her startled laughter and the way she was still smiling when she rolled her eyes at his joke. “That was terrible, Fraser.”

“Aye, but I meant every word.”

Her gaze softened a little. “I know.” She sighed heavily, her thumb caressing his skin where their hands were still clasped. “Take me home so I can get some rest before my shift tomorrow, Jamie, and in two days, you can take me up to Lallybroch.”

“Aye?” He couldn’t contain his wide smile. “Ye’ll come wi’ me?”

She threw her hands up in slight exasperation. “To hell with it. Everyone already thinks we’re married, apparently. Might as well tackle Christmas with your family next.”

He laughed at that and leaned over the console to kiss the smile on her lips, and started the drive home with her hand still clasped in his.

[thathelplesshomeschooler]

humans are space orcs (with magic!) *skillz to pay the billz pt 1*

5wow i have been gone for a hot minute but i think i’m gonna tryn write more on here, but school’s starting up again soon so we’ll see how that actually goes. anyway, without further ado, here is another short story or sum, based on how some people can cook, and how some absolutely cannot

also i had to resist so hard from writing that’s what she said at the end so i will have to console myself with writing it up here.

***

The VIV Narrtor was docked at a WayCenter Station for repairs after a gamma burst from a neutron star had fried nearly all the sensors. As it was the humans had decided to designated this as their “vacation” and had put their money together and were renting a small abode for the duration of the repairs. Not wanting to miss out on any possible research, Drerzii had insisted that he and Tygeria rent the room across the street from the humans. 

And so Tygeria found herself the windowsill with a pair of “binoculars” as the humans called it, in her hand. Currently the humans weren’t doing much, in fact it appeared that only one of them was up and active. Uhris, clad only in his undergarments, was in the sustenance preparation room, making ready the pot of dark, steaming liquid that the humans drank every morning. She and Drerzii had suspected it to be either some sort of religious ceremony or a necessity of their species, much like how the dular always had to eat from a plant native to their planet before they ate anything else or they would die. However, neither of them had mustered the courage to ask the humans. If it was indeed a private matter, it might not be appreciated if they suspected they were being studied so thoroughly. And an angry human was not something Tygeria wanted to see. 

As she observed, the rest of the humans slowly arose from their slumber, except for Taurus. Being the largest of them all, Tygeria suspected that he likely needed more rest than the rest of them in order to move his mass around. She noted her thoughts on a holotablet. 

When she resumed her observations, she noted that Uhris was preparing sustenance, and quite a large amount. He must be feeding the entire group. It was strange she thought, since his records didn’t indicate that he had been trained in sustenance preparation, but he seemed quite adept in his actions. Perhaps he had trained in secret, hoping one day to be employed as a sustenance prepare. These “chefs” apparently were quite coveted in any group. 

The group spent most of the morning hours indoors, but what they were doing exactly Tygeria couldn’t say exactly. They were certainly enjoying themselves at the very least. Around midday Uhris and Enara walked out of the building. Tygeria leaned forward, her interested piqued. “Drerzii, Drerzii! They’re headed this way.” Her carapace tingled with mixed fear and excitement. They’d been found out. Surely the humans would be angry at being spied on. Drerzii rose from his resting state. 

“My dear Tygeria, you surely must be mistaken. The humans-” He stopped as he peered out the window, “Oh. You’re quite right Tygeria. But do calm yourself, I doubt they mean us any harm. Likely their simply curious. Their species’ natural inclement is towards curiosity rather than violence; however, I suppose we should be prepared. There, I have a clear line of communication to command should anything happen.” 

Tygeria appreciated his actions, but her carapace still tingled. A minute later there was a knock on the door. She walked quickly across the room and opened the door. Uhris and Enara stood in the entryway. 

Uhris switched his hand from scratching the back of his head to giving them a little wave. “Uh hey. Anne pointed out that you guys were staying across the street from us, and we all agreed that we couldn’t just let you guys stay here.” It was exactly as Tygeria feared, the humans were angry about being spied on. Drerzii’s flashing colors echoed her fear. “So we- Drerzii you okay? You’re putting on a whole light show my dude.”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite fine. For the time being at least.”

“Erm, yeah, whatever that means. Anyway, we’re about to have lunch, so we wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us. We might do something later, but we haven’t decided what yet.”

Tygeria lowered her head so it was on eye-level with the human. It didn’t make much of a difference to her, what with her infrared vision, but apparently it was a human gesture. “You don’t intend us any harm?”

The two humans looked on in confusion. “N-no? I mean why would we want to hurt you? We just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with us, but if you don’t that’s fine too.”

Tygeria was taken aback. Did they not know? “Because we were obs-”

“Of course we would be delighted to enjoy you for a meal. I unfortunately am unable to consume at the current moment, but I would be delighted to participate in your fellowship.”

“Oh. Great, well you guys can head on over then. Enara and I are just going to get some groceries, but we’ll be back in just a few minutes. The door’s unlocked so just head right in”

And so the humans headed off toward the provisions center of the station while Tygeria and Drerzii made their way to the humans rooms. Upon entering the room they were met with ferocious laughter. The terrifying sound of mirth coming from all three of the humans. Taurus, who apparently was in the middle of a story glanced over towards the door, his predatory eyes moving by pure instinct. He motioned with his hand. “Come on over guys, I was just telling them about when I managed to get a screw jammed up my nose.” It took a few minutes of recap for Tygeria and Drerzii to understand the situation, but it was incomprehnsible why the humans found it so funny.

Uhris and Enara arrived shortly after the story was finished. Both had bags filled with consumables in both hands. Taurus hooted from across the room “Uwu, y’all look like a couple, walking in with your groceries.”

Uhris breathed heavily through his nose, what Tygeria believed was called a “snort.” “If I was Jason maybe we’d be a couple.” At that comment Jason started coughing and Enara’s face grew red. Perhaps, Tygeria thought, this has something to do with them ‘liking’ each other.

“Anyway, we’re going to get started on lunch. Y’all just sit tight. Also Tygeria you should be able to eat this, we got food that’s edible for you too.” She clicked her thanks.

It was very considerate that the humans would use sustenance that she would be able to ingest as well. She was, however, concerned. Among her kind she was known to have rather specific preferences. However she couldn’t risk offending the humans by not eating any sustenance they prepared. But as they worked in the kitchen, her olfactory senses began to tingle. The smells of whatever it was they were making piqued her curiosity. How could one prepare food so that it would have such a smell? Was this some form of communication between human. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of whatever processes they were using to prepare the sustenance. 

She peered over to see both Uhris and Enara moving efficiently through the kitchen, handing each others utensils and ingredients as they worked. Occasionally one of them would take a small utensil and taste some of the sustenance, then make a small adjustment to the ratios of ingredients. Sometimes they would ask each others opinions or hand something off to the other. Tygeria was astonished at the ease with which they hurried through their movements. Uhris placed his creation in the heating unit and turned to the rest of them. “Alright, so this should take just a few minutes to bake, and then we’ll be good to go.”

Taurus set out dishes for everyone to eat on, except for Drerzii, who had declined on account of his metabolic processes not being in service for the time being. Once Uhris had deemed the time to be right, he carefully pulled the sustenance from the heating chamber and placed it upon the table. Enara came from the kitchen and placed what she had prepared next to Uhris’. “Just wait for it to cool down and then go ahead and dig in.”

With a laugh Jason raised his hand, “So what exactly is it that we’re eating.”

Uhris bared his teeth, then quickly changed his expression to be less frightening for Tygeria and Drerzii. “What we have here is a magherita flatbread, made completely by hand, with non-native ingredients. I subbed uthara for tomatoes for both the garnish and the sauce, and used tehari cream instead of cheese. And the crust is, actually I don’t know what it is, it just said it could be substituted on my holotablet. But Enara, tell them what you made.”

“What we have here is a fruit salad, also made with ‘non-native’ ingredients, as Uhri put it. And I put in some of the spices they had at the compound for some added flavor.”

Jason laughed, “So basically we’re having alien pizza and alien fruit salad? This is really gonna be the test guys.” With that he took out the first section of the ‘flatbread’ and took a bite. His eyes opened wide and he made a sound deep in his throat. With a mouth full of food he said, “Oh yeah, thish ish the sh*t you guys.” 

What exactly that meant, Tygeria wasn’t sure, but the rest of the humans began consuming the sustenance, and so Tygeria took one of the squares and took a bite of it herself. Her carapace tingled with delight. The flavors burst in her mouth, sweet and salty combining perfectly. She hummed with delight, this was beyond what she would have imagined the humans to be capable of. She then took a portion of the ‘fruit salad’ and ate some of that as well. It complimented the flatbread in a way that she didn’t know was even possible. She quickly secured another few servings, making sure she would have enough for later on. She would have to savor the taste whenever she had the chance. But she couldn’t help but to hum even more as she continued to feed on it. 

“Well it looks like we have one very happy customer.” Uhri said.

* * *

The rest of the day the group simply stayed indoors and talked about a myriad of subjects. Enara’s skill in the kitchen had come about simply because she liked to cook as a past time. It was, as she said, “A pleasure to see my work put smiles on faces. And even better if I can make the food healthy.” Uhri had apparently worked in his family’s business of making food for special events, something called catering, and had picked up his skills from his years helping around the kitchen. He volunteered to make another meal for dinner, but before he could start Anne stopped him. 

She stepped into the kitchen and turned to him “It’s been a while since I’ve made anything for anyone else, but I’d like to try to make something for you guys.”

Uhri shrugged, “Knock yourself out.” Tygeria was startled by this. Why would Anne hit herself so hard as to knock her unconscious? She was about to raise her concern when Uhri spoke, “I didn’t mean it literally. It’s a human saying, kind of like good luck, or go right ahead.” 

She hummed her acknowledgement, but was still confused as to why anyone would say this. 

Taurus paused, “Wait Anne, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well I did live by myself for two years in college. And I got sick of instant ramen after the first semester, so I had to learn.” 

This made sense to Tygeria, humans apparently had to fend for themselves once they reached a certain age. Their parents would assist but for the most part they were on their own. Next to her Drerzii trumpeted with delight. “Why, Tygeria I have been fastidiously taking notes of this whole occasion, and I would like to mull over them with you later. We can see what our thoughts are, but this entire time has been so enlightening.”

A few short minutes later Anne huffed out of the kitchen a steaming platter in her hands. The smell coming from it was just as strong as the one coming from the earlier dishes, but not quite so delectable in nature. Anne plopped it down in the middle of the table and introduced the dish. “It’s a bean casserole, or at least as close as I could get to one with what we have.”

Jason was again the first one to take a bite. He slowly pulled his utensil out of his mouth. Anne beamed, “So, what do you think?”

Jason shook slightly, “It’s definitely something else. You’ve got a real flavor there I’ll tell you that.” He timidly placed another portion in his mouth, shutting his eyes as he did so. 

The others began to eat, and had similar reactions. Slow, and usually taking a drink of water after every bite they had. It was a completely different reaction to what they had before. Before she could take a bite, Drerzii whispered in her ear, “Tell me what it tastes like.” 

So she  put a large portion on her plate, and another large portion in her mouth. If it was anything like the bliss she had tasted earlier she would have to start eating the humans food more often. Unfortunately, it was nothing like what she had eaten earlier. It was as if whatever the flavor was meant to be had become evil and was attacking her mouth. And the way it felt, it was incredibly dry, parching her mouth. She quickly grabbed a cup of water and downed it, trying to suppress the taste and texture. She turned to Drerzii and spoke quietly, not wanting to offend Anne, “It’s awful. I would not recommend trying it.” She looked back to see Anne staring directly at her. Her predatory hearing must have heard Tygeria’s report. 

“Is it actually that bad? I know I might have fudged some of the spices, but was it actually that bad?” 

Tygeria started to panic. How could she tell the human that it was possibly the worst thing she had ever tasted? Humans were easily offended when it came to things they made themselves. It wouldn’t do for her to insult the food. But she could thing of no other honest alternative. Right as she was about to confirm, Taurus spoke. “To be honest Anne, it’s not great. It’s pretty dry and you overdid it with the flavoring. But trust me it’s not as bad as my grandmothers cooking. That was a culinary nightmare. I can at least eat this.” 

Anne nodded, liquid gathering at the bottoms of her eyes. Tygeria tilted her head, she had heard that liquid spilled from humans eyes when they got emotional, and the action even had a name. So she asked, “Are you going to cry?”

Instantly Anne stood straight, and shook her head. “Throw the food away. I’ll just go out and grab something pre-made.” With that she dashed out the door. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I mean, yeah, you aren’t really supposed to ask people if they’re going to cry.” Taurus said, “But at least we don’t have to finish the food. God it was disgusting, I thought I was going to throw up.” 

Enara struck him on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, she tried her best.”

“I mean am I wrong?”

Enara raised her hand as if to cuff him again, but slowly let her arm down. “No, not really, it was pretty terrible. I’m going to go find her, but let’s do try to cheer her up when she comes back.” And with that Enara rose and left the room. As soon as she had Uhris spat out a slimy, semi-chewed portion of the food. “That shit was nasty, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow.”

Tygeria wondered how any human could take the risk of attempting to prepare sustenance of the potential for disaster was this, this massacre of the tastebuds.

[inwintersolitude]

- November 17th 2022 -

What's your favourite place to get pizza? Oooh, definitely Lou Malnati's... they make the best Chicago deep dish pizza on the planet. But sadly I don't live near any of their restaurants. My favorite pizza place near here is the NY-style pizzeria on the town square.

Did you ever get detention in school? What for? Nope. I was too quiet as a kid to ever get into that much trouble haha.

Do you believe in horoscopes? Not one bit.

When you were growing up, did you share a bedroom with anyone? No.

Have you ever worn a wig? Just once, when I was 8 years old and I dressed up as a little old lady for Halloween. We had a school Halloween costume parade that everyone's families came to, and I remember seeing someone's elderly grandmother there and at the time I felt really bad and embarrassed that I was dressed up in a costume to look like her hahaha. But looking back from an adult perspective I'm sure she thought it was funny/cute.

Do you have any trips coming up? Maybe to Delaware next month or in January.

If you could take lessons/classes for anything, what would you do? Nature photography. We did a nature photography unit in my film photo II class in high school and I loved it. I'd definitely want to do a whole class in that, just with digital photography this time.

When was the last time you had an eye exam? Back in March or April.

Have you ever eaten Indonesian food? Just once. One of the days that my husband and I were exploring London, we stumbled upon an Indonesian festival at the park by Tower Bridge, and decided to try some of the food there.

Do you have any spaces to park a car at your home? Yes, we have a driveway and a 2-car garage.

What accents do you really struggle to understand? I'm terrible at understanding heavy French accents.

Do you have a Bachelor's degree? Yep.

What's the first thing you see when you look to your left? The curtains and the sliding glass door out to the patio and back yard.

Do you have a big sweet tooth? Only occasionally.

Have you ever been mistaken for a celebrity? Nope.

Do you plan to do much or go anywhere for the upcoming weekend? Probably not. My husband is going to be on-call for work so we'll probably just chill at home like we usually do when he has an on-call schedule.

Right now, are you hot, cold or just right? Just right.

What's your regional term for swimwear? I'm Aussie so I call them swimmers :) Swimsuit or bathing suit.

Have you had caffeine today? Yep, I had a matcha latte this morning.

Do you own any textbooks? Are you currently studying from them? Yes but they're all from my college days, 10+ years ago.

What were the last earrings you wore? Where did you get them? I don't remember. I haven't worn earrings in... I don't even remember how long.

Are you waiting for anything right now? I'm waiting for the towels in the washer to be done.

Do you know how to drive a stick-shift/manual transmission car? Yep, I used to own a manual Ford Fiesta. Not for very long, though. I ended up really hating how tiny and cheap it was.

What sort of music have you been listening to lately? Classical.

Where is your crush/lover right now? Make a guess if you don't know. He's upstairs in bed.

When was the last time you had blood taken? I think it was when I was in the ER last May?

Have you ever watched the original Japanese version of Iron Chef? Nope.

Do you hate it when taxis and ride share drivers ask you a lot of questions? Yep.

What scent is your body wash or soap? Sort of a nutty vanilla scent, but it's pretty faint. It's a body wash for sensitive skin so it's not heavily fragranced.

When did you move into the house you currently live in? September 2021.

[shirtlesssammy]

5x21: Two Minutes to Midnight

Then:

The End is Nigh

Now:

Davenport, Iowa

We begin this episode with Pestilence paying an ailing woman a visit. He’s riddled her with more diseases than she can handle. What an experiment!

One Day Earlier

At Bobby’s, Sam’s getting an earful from Dean about his plan to say yes to Lucifer. Dean gets a call from Cas. Dean wants to know where he is --they all thought he was dead. He’s in a hospital. He’s not one for conversation at the moment, but does tell Dean that he just woke up in the hospital. Dean tells him their next step: get Pestilence. 

For Hospital Bed Science:

Cas groans in pain and tells Dean he can’t fly anywhere. He’s thirsty, and his head aches, and he has a bug bite, and he’s all so very... Dean finishes his thought with, “human”. Cas needs money for pain meds and travel expenses. 

Also, he stops Dean from hanging up and says that he owes him an apology. “You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be,” he confesses. Dean’s awkward about such a solemn apology. I’m soft about how soft this moment is. 

The brothers head out to scope out the convalescent home where Pestilence chills. They knock out the security guard to watch video footage of the place. 

Eventually Sam notices the camera flickering with one person. They head out to find him. 

As Pestilence is taking care of Cold Open Celeste, a demon comes in to warn him about the Winchesters. He’s upset over what they did to his brothers, and wants revenge. The demon reminds him he’s not supposed to hurt “the vessels”. He doesn’t care and starts hurting everyone in the building. 

Sam and Dean start coughing, and struggle to keep walking. They both collapse outside Pestilence’s door. They’re now riddled with disease, just like Celeste. While the boys struggle on the ground, Pestilence gets to monologue a bit about the frailty of humans. 

Enter one VERY human-like angel. Yeah, poor Cas is just as affected as the Winchesters. Pestilence laughs, “There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?” Cas then lunges at him, and cuts his ring finger right off. “Maybe just a speck.” Oh Cas, you badass. Never change. 

The demon attacks, and he knifes her. Pestilence disappears, but not before ominously stating, “It’s too late.” 

And now they have three rings. 

At Bobby’s, Dean asks for some good news. Bobby tells them that Chicago is about to get hit with the storm of the millennium. Three million people are going to die. 

GOOD NEWS, Bobby! Or as Cas deadpans, “I don’t understand your definition of ‘good news’.” 

Bobby points out that Death will be there. They still need his ring. 

Sam wonders how Bobby knows all this. Enter Crowley. 

Bobby admits to selling his soul to Crowley. Dean demands that Crowley give it back. Sam wonders if Bobby had to kiss him. Bobby denies it --but Crowley’s got proof. Of course. 

Crowley won’t give back Bobby’s soul as insurance that the Winchesters won’t kill him. I mean, I kind of have to side with Crowley here. He’s being REALLY generous even considering giving back Bobby’s soul. Bobby sold it fair and square. He’s getting information from Crowley in return. 

Later, by the Impala, Dean and Sam talk. Sam admits that he has his doubts about his plan as much as the rest of them. “You, Bobby, Cas...I'm the least of any of you.” Like, OUCH, Samuel. We deep dive into Dean’s self-worth issues on the regular, but let’s just pause and reflect on the younger sibling right now. 

Sam’s all they got though, so they have to try. 

Crowley interrupts the broment with news about the world. It seems that Pestilence was spreading Swine Flu, and Sam’s old buddy Brady’s company was cranking out the vaccine --only it was full of Croatoan virus not a cure. If this vaccine is distributed nationwide, it’ll all be over.

Cas and Bobby pack up the van. Cas is...moody. He mourns the loss of his angelic might. The only thing he has available to him now...is a shotgun. (Starts humming) Bobby tells him to quit whining and load the truck. 

The teams finish packing for their respective hunts. Sam waxes nostalgically about the simpler days of hunting monsters. Dean doesn’t think it was ever simple. Crowley interrupts and presents Dean with Death’s own scythe (in travel-sized form). 

Crowley urges Bobby to stand up and get ready to fight. He reveals that he inserted a little healing clause into Bobby’s soul deal that healed Bobby’s paralysis. Bobby stands up triumphantly. 

Later, Sam, Bobby, and Cas drive towards the Croatoan virus operation. Cas reflects on Sam’s idea to toss himself into the pit along with Lucifer. He thinks it’s a solid plan. 

Cas passes along some new intel about the archangel prize fight: Michael has taken Adam as a vessel. He warns Sam that failing to control Lucifer means that the apocalypse will happen, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Oh, and “there’s also the demon blood…” Sam will have to drink gallons of blood in order to be strong enough to contain Lucifer. BLEGH.

The next morning, they lurk at the distribution facility. A truck tries to leave and Cas takes out the driver and jams the gate controls. Sam and Bobby head into the warehouse, only to find that the demons have already infected some of the workers with Croatoan. Sam races off into the warehouse to save (uninfected) civilians. 

Dean and Crowley enjoy their first date, tracking Death to a little warehouse.

There’s a lovely clip where Crowley mentions that the area is swarming with reapers, and we get a reveal…

Crowley zaps into the warehouse, discovers that Death isn’t there, then meets Dean outside again. He suggests hightailing it out of Chicago and waiting for the next doomed city in order to find Death. That’s not good enough, though. Dean wants to find a way to save people, even if they can’t track down the Horseman. While Dean despairs, Crowley peers into a little pizza place and then heads back to Dean. He found Death! With his work done and not even a high five to show for it, Crowley zaps out of there.

Back at the warehouse, Sam’s finishes evacuating the uninfected civilians. Just as they think they’re home free, Sam gets attacked and Bobby’s gun jams. Enter Castiel, who shoots Sam’s attacker and says, “Actually these things can be useful.” 

For Angel with a Shotgun Science:

Dean creeps through the pizza parlor, which is full of dead patrons and waitstaff. Death’s scythe heats up in his hand and, agonized by the red hot handle, Dean drops it. The next thing he knows, his Death super-weapon is safely by Death’s side. 

Death sits at a table savoring a piece of pizza, and invites Dean to join him.

Dean wants to know if he’s about to die, but Death informs him that he has other plans for him. Death quietly reminds Dean that he’s as old and vast as the universe. No biggie though. Dean’s a bacterium, practically, but it’s fine. Death serves Dean a slice of pizza and I desperately long for some good Chicago deep dish. 

Death says that he’s as old as God, and maybe older. “At the end, I’ll reap him too.” (And while I appreciate that they didn’t kill Chuck in the traditional stabby manner, I’ll always mourn that we didn’t get to see this line fulfilled in one of the finale’s endless montage sequences, and that Billie didn’t survive to do the job.) (Boris, huddled in the corner: Death didn’t reap Chuck because he won, and the story isn’t over yet...)

Anyway, Dean’s appropriately awed by Death’s power. “This is way above my pay grade,” Dean mutters. Death reveals that he’s been waiting for Dean to catch up to him - Lucifer’s spell has prevented him from directly seeking out the Winchesters. “I’m more powerful than you can process, and I’m enslaved to a bratty child having a tantrum,” Death spits. Preach! Death proposes depowering Lucifer’s Death weapon. He’ll hand Dean his ring willingly.

“What about Chicago?” Dean asks, ever the hunter.

Oh, Chicago can survive. Death likes the pizza. He hands Dean his ring and tells him that he has to do whatever it takes to trap Lucifer. “You’re going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit. Now, do I have your word?” Dean takes the ring as Death issues one final warning. “You know you can’t cheat Death.”

Back at Bobby’s, Dean looks at the rings. They’ve got all four of them and together, they form into a magic little bundle of rings. Bobby finds Dean for a little heart to heart. 

Dean reveals that he lied to Death - he’s not okay with Sam tossing himself into the pit. However, Bobby thinks that Death may be right about Sam’s plan being their best option. Bobby watched Sam save all the civilians in the factory before they blew it up, and he thinks that Sam can handle it. “Sam will beat the Devil, or die trying. That’s the best we could ask for. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?”

O, Quotes:

I don't understand your definition of good news

We'll catch Death in the next doomed city

Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[darkacademaniac]

a chaotic but accurate representation of the little things I love in my day-to-day academic career, aka a moodboard of all the little things I really miss and can’t wait to do/see again once I can go back to my full-time on-campus Arts & Media Student life after this worldwide mess is all over

just goofing off around campus, bc we’re young and nothing matters so why tf not

eyes open to all the wonderful différences in fellow students, noticing and enjoying how unique and awesome and varied their colourful outfits are

also everyone is wearing doc martens, and so are you, bc that’s what everyone at this university wears

high-fiving that friend that you always walk past on a Thursday morning as they hand out fliers, and you won’t see them again until next week doing the same thing, and that’s the extent of your friendship

going to the university bar after we’ve all handed up an assignment, let’s split the bottle between us bc we’re broke uni students but we love a good red

cheap pints and pool tables, arcade games and deep booths, sharing a bowl of mouth-scolding potato chips with your mates

student discount on art supplies

trips to the next door art gallery to kill time between classes

studying/lunch in the botanic gardens bc theres 4 hours until your next class

naps on the grass, soaking up the watery autumn sunshine with people you love

instant noodles and snacks from at the uni general store, boiling water and vending machines in the student kitchens

cook-ups with friends to last us the week to save $$$ on food, but also buying plenty of beverages with the money we were supposed to save with this exercise

camera comes everywhere around campus, ready to immortalise the moments missed with a blink

a collection of hoodies/rugby jumpers, first years flock the uni-merch store for their jumpers to wear around campus with pride

homework session in the study rooms, actually in in each others company, who knows how much work is actually getting done bc my best friends are sitting across from me as we study together late into the night, we’re hilarious and distract eachother lots but we know we will eventually get it done, and it’s better to be procrastinating together than have the distraction be the interior of your mind in isolation

I say “See ya later”, and it’s true, I will see you later, and I’ll see you tomorrow, and the next day

lecture theatres: full

couples on campus, initially you scrunch your nose at them, but you realise how lovely it is that they can freely share affection, who would have thought it would be taken away like this?

a myriad of evidence that you have consumed caffeine, dishes not done bc you’re glued to your assignment and you love it bc it’s your 2,500 word baby

bumping into a stranger and you don’t immediately run to wash your hands or get tested for a deadly virus - it’s just an awkward funny accident, and you laugh it off and probably see them around campus more now after that circumstantial exchange

practical research, primary sources, touching things, holding things, learning through touch

holding hands, linking arms, greeting and parting hugs, a kiss on the cheek

groups of friends, groups of people, line ups for cafes, huddles of friends around a table, huddling over a project, group assignments but we’re not separated by a wifi connection

texting my friends during class to meet up afterwards at our favourite cafe, it’s a dark and scrumptious overcast day and it’s our main haunt ( @academicinfj )

hugging your friends goodbye, shaking hands of new acquaintances

networking! NETWORKING! NEW PEOPLE! Hiya, how’s it going, what are you all about? Interviews and photoshoots, drawing real people in front of you, learning all about them, writing up an article from scratch but it’s easy bc they’re right in front of you and they’re handing you the words

knocking on your favourite lecturers door for a chat, it’s a meeting you set up with them, rather than dropping by in a video call

greeting your local barista who knows your order bc you’re consistent and has already started on it bc you’re always here at this time, the legend, they see you walk in and smile and ask after you, and you them bc even though you only ever see them in this context, they are in your circle and this exchange is more precious than you’ve ever given it credit for before

your lecturer rolls their eyes at your joke about the course content, but you can see their hidden smile clear as day across the lecture hall bc it was a bloody good joke and they know it, it’s a real-life détail and it’s not lost in a poor wifi connection

Theres $15 pizza and live-jazz nights on Tuesdays in the night-life district not far from campus, we go there every Tuesday after that class thay finishes in the evening, and the band knows who we’re the group in the corner, bc we’re always there with our pizza, and we’ll be there next week to hear the same songs and make a ruckus and cheer them on and dance, keY CHANGE YES LOVE IT!!! ! THAT SOLO!!!! REAL MUSIC BABEY !!

submitting an assignment 3 minutes before it’s due, the EXHILERATION of it

TL;DR: life is all around; no glitches, not delays or lags, we’re smiling and laughing and talking in real time, there’s nothing between us, no screens, just atmosphere

it’s good to be around

[chelsfic]

Leftovers - Part 12/12 - Nandor the Relentless x Female Reader Fanfic

For Previous Parts: WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: The reader shares her last night alive with her new family.

A/N: I realized as I was writing this that this whole fic could really be read as an elongated metaphor for my falling in love with this show and this fandom. I hope you guys like this ending and aren’t disappointed. 

Warnings: Angst, Emotions, Crack humor, Turning into a vampire

---

It’s an hour after sunset and you can hear your housemates stirring. You’re still lying in bed. The ceiling overhead is cracked and peeling in places. You suppose this probably won’t be your bedroom for much longer. Nandor will want you to move into his crypt. Will you have your own coffin? Or will he want to keep sharing? How does one even purchase a coffin for...personal use?

You know you’re stalling. Nandor is being uncharacteristically patient, but he won’t wait all night. You’re not afraid. Okay, you’re afraid. But, you’d be stupid not to be. You saw Guillermo during his transition. He looked like hell for about three whole days. But you know Nandor will take care of you. Well, strike that. You know Nandor will try to take care of you and if he fails, Nadja and Guillermo will be there. 

The night you met...the night you almost became a meal...was your birthday. So much has happened since then. You’ve been kept prisoner, fed upon, attacked, hurt. You’ve also fallen in love with every vampire in this crazy house, even Colin Robinson, bless his heart. Nandor and his bizarre mix of vicious lust and achingly sweet softness has somehow pulled you into this world, into a place you’ve always belonged without even knowing it. So, yeah, you’re afraid. But the idea of not spending every night for the rest of eternity surrounded by these beautiful, damaged, stupid idiots is even more frightening.

A knock comes at your door and Nadja’s voice trills, “Hello, human? May I come in?”

You roll onto your side and sit up, dangling your bare legs over the edge of the bed. You’re wearing one of your few dresses because...well, because you’re going to die tonight and shouldn’t you dress up a little?

Nadja slips inside looking resplendent and deadly as always. She gives you a sympathetic smile and comes to sit next to you.

“Feeling a little nervous about our unholy transition, are we?” she ducks her head and gives you that mama-vampire-knows-best look of hers.

You lean your shoulder into hers, taking comfort in her presence.

“Maybe a little…” you admit. “I’m not having second thoughts or anything it’s just…”

“A little spooky wooky, yes?” Nadja supplies. She wraps her arm around your back and pulls you closer. “Don’t concern your head off, darling. I don’t know if you realize this but I am considered a bit of an expert. I’ve turned many, many humans in my time. Including my dear Laszlo. I’ll make sure Nandor does not slip up and accidentally make you into a zombie monstrosity like my poor Topher.”

You rear back and stare at Nadja with horror stricken eyes, “That’s a possibility!??”

Nadja chuckles and tweaks your nose, “I am giving you sarcasm! To lighten the mood! It’s working, yes?”

You let out a long-suffering sigh that hiccups into nervous laughter.

“I love you, Nadja,” you say with sudden, overwhelming emotion. You dive forward and wrap your arms around her in a fierce hug.

Nadja is stricken for a moment and she pats your back gingerly, “That’s...very nice. You think you want to come downstairs now? Because Nandor is being a real donkey dick down there waiting for you, but his balls are too shriveled to come up here and get you himself.”

You laugh and pull back from the hug, wiping tears from your eyes, “Yeah, let’s go. I’m ready.”

---

“SURPRISE!” 

“HAPPY DEATHDAY!”

“SMASHLEY’S IN DA HOUSE!”

“What’s crack-a-lackin’?”

Nandor looks supremely put out when everyone yells something different as you walk through the door to the fancy room. Does no one listen to him? They had an agreed upon plan! He scowls at at the other vampires, especially fucking Colin Robinson, before sweeping over toward you and taking you from Nadja’s arm.

“Welcome to your Death Day Party! Do you like it?” Nandor looks down at you with those wide, sparkling eyes that make you forget he’s a centuries old blood-sucking fiend who once conquered nations and slaughtered thousands. 

You take in your surroundings with a look of wonder. There’s a giant glitter banner hanging above the fireplace that reads “Congratulations on your Dark Awakening.” You recognize it as Nandor’s handiwork at once. Also, Guillermo has obviously been to Party City because everyone is wearing pointed birthday hats with little Dracula emojis all over them and the whole room is absolutely covered in crepe paper. 

“It’s...so cute!” you squeal, grabbing him around the middle in an enthusiastic hug. This is...just want you needed. A little goofy, human levity before stepping off the edge of the unknown. Your eyes continue wandering over the room until they fall upon a long table set up against the wall. “Oh...my g--gahhhh--is that mac and cheese?”

The table is covered in dish after dish of all your favorite comfort foods. Macaroni and cheese, pizza, lasagna. Apple pie, blueberry pie, cherry pie! There’s a whole giant bowl of Reese’s peanut butter cups. You pull away from Nandor and dash across the room, launching yourself into Guillermo’s arms.

“You’re the sweetest monster I’ve ever known!” you cry, doing your best to squeeze the unlife out of him.

Guillermo laughs, “Listen, you’re going to be puking for days either way. You might as well have one last chance to enjoy human food.”

You roll your eyes, “Thanks for the reminder, Memo.”

“Alrighty!” Nandor is suddenly picking you up from behind and plucking you out of Guillermo’s arms. “That’s enough of that. Why don’t you have some of this--” he turns his head away from you and gags “--yummy food and then we’ll listen to some human musical arrangements that Nadja and Laszlo have prepared.”

Nandor hovers at your side, watching with a wrinkled nose as you pile food onto your plate. You’ve barely made a dent in the impressive spread and you’re feeling guilty about the waste when Colin Robinson ambles up.

“So, nervous about Nandor draining all your blood and killing you tonight?” he asks breezily.

You ignore the question and instead ask one of your own, “Hey, you think you can bring some of the leftovers into your office tomorrow? I’d hate to waste all this…”

Colin’s face lights with a maniacal grin, “Barbara’s on a diet...Yeah...this will be perfect!”

You settle onto one of the couches, sandwiched between Guillermo and Nandor. Both vampires look vaguely nauseated as you tuck into your food, but they’re holding it together.

Laszlo stands up with Nadja and starts strumming a guitar as he addresses everyone, “When I first met our human I assumed she’d soon be fertilizing my vulva garden--”

Nadja slaps his arm and Nandor hisses indignantly.

“But! But!” Laszlo continues, bowing with a flourish in your direction. “I came to realize that this particular human was something special. I decided to accept her into the fold. Mostly because she kept Nandor off my back and also my wife threatened to maim my testicles if I ate her…

“So, here we are, human. The last night of your life and we’ve got just one thing to say…”

The couple launches into a screeching, cloying rendition of “(I’ve had) The Time of my Life” from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack (blatantly stolen from Laszlo’s catalogue of compositions). Your face is frozen in horrified laughter and you flick your gaze to Guillermo’s to see that he’s covering his mouth to stifle his own laughs. On your other side, Nandor is clapping along and bobbing his head with the music. Yup, this is your tribe.

The party goes on for another couple hours. Laszlo and Nadja perform several more “hits” before finishing up with “The Girl in the Village with the Very Small Foot.” Nadja’s singing voice is still ringing in your ears when Nandor bends down to whisper, “It’s time, my human.”

The levity of the party has done a lot to calm your nerves, but you can’t help the sudden grip of anxiety around your throat at his words. You look up, falling, once again, into the fathomless depths of his lovely, dark eyes and you think, That’s what this is. You’re going to live in that deep, dark beauty from now on. There’s nothing scary about that. 

You both stand up to leave and say your goodbyes. Laszlo and Colin wish you luck. Guillermo hugs you and presses several quick kisses to your cheeks as Nandor murmurs warningly, “Watch it!”

When he releases you, you’re suddenly engulfed in the arms of a crying Nadja.

“I do love you, you magnificent, ruthless baby!” she sobs. “Nandor, if you fuck this up I’m going to make a hat out of your asshole.”

You laugh into her shoulder and Nandor complains, “Yeesh! Alright, calm down, Nadja!”

By the time you’ve pried yourself from Nadja’s grip you’ve joined her in crying and your face is soaked. Who knew vampires could be so sentimental?

Nandor grimaces in distaste as he brings his hands up to wipe away the tears.

“Ready!?”

---

Nandor’s crypt looks just as it always does. No crepe paper or glitter in sight. Just the warm glow of candles, the rich red and gold accents of the decor, and the solid familiar bulk of the coffin where you’ve spent so many nights wrapped in his protective embrace. He leads you over to the chaise lounge and you both sit, fidgeting nervously and darting shy glances at one another.

Nandor plucks at the fabric of your dress, “This is nice.”

You smile faintly, “Thanks, I--I thought maybe I should dress up for the occasion. Is that stupid? I guess it’ll just get stained…”

“No,” Nandor cuts in, looking earnest and serious. “No, I’ll be careful.”

You nod and fall silent again. The knowledge of what you’re about to do seems to hang like a thick curtain between you. The easy intimacy that you’ve shared is strained with the gravity of what is to come. Nandor finally huffs out an exasperated sigh and pulls you into his lap. At first you think he’s just going to bite the bullet, so to speak, and dig into your neck at once. But instead he grabs your face and pulls you into a searing, all-consuming kiss. 

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pushing his tongue into your mouth with a low groan. You stroke your hands down the long column of his throat, running them across his broad shoulders and down his back. How this man--this perfectly imperfect, wonderfully fragile, fierce warrior man--has come to choose you, you can’t begin to understand. For countless other human souls, catching the eye of Nandor the Relentless has meant grim misfortune. For you, finding yourself the prey of a murderous vampire is the best thing that’s ever happened in your life. 

Except maybe being MVP at last year’s championship bout.

Nandor’s lips fall away and he looks up at you, panting heavily with his hair mussed and tangled. His gaze flicks down to your exposed throat and you see him swallow in anticipation. He reaches for something on an end table and shows you the stainless steel travel mug containing his blood. You take it from him noting the strip of masking tape on the lid with Nandor’s elegant scrawl--his name and the date.

You snort, setting the container down on the cushions beside you and looking back up at Nandor.

“Prepare yourself, my mortal,” he growls, fangs elongating and eyes flashing with a predatory gleam. 

You turn your head, baring your neck for your vampire boyfriend, and answering lightly, “I have a name, you know.”

---

THE END

A/N: Hey, thank you so so so much to everyone who read and supported this fic from the beginning! Your comments and encouragement mean the world to me!

Tags:

@festering-queen, @kandomeresbitch, @strangestdiary, @glitterportrait, @scuzmunkie, @redwoodshadows, @sarasxe, @rileyomalley 

[ezcater]

What’s the Difference Between These 5 Pizza Styles?

Everyone has their favorite pizza toppings, and everyone has their favorite style of pizza. No, this isn’t about finding which style is best. That would be an impossible task rife with controversy. Rather, this is a look at a few different styles of pizza and what makes them special. Think of it as a way to narrow down your options when you’re ordering for the office or having an event catered with pizza. (On that note, pizza is an excellent catering choice. It’s simple, it tastes good, and you can get a whole lotta pies). So, whether you’re catering Indianapolis company lunches or anywhere else in the country, here are some pizza styles that people can’t get enough of—in no specific order, of course.

Hand-Tossed

For a lot of people, this is the most common style of pizza. It’s found all over the country. It can come with plenty of variations depending on where it’s made. It’s defined by a thinner, chewier crust. But it’s not as thin as a thin-crust pizza or New York style pizza (more on that in a moment). If you do happen to be catering Indianapolis company lunches, Jet’s Pizza has the hand-tossed pizza angle covered, along with a few other styles…

New York Style

New York style is a New York staple, as the name suggests. You can find genuine New York style pizza in Manhattan and Brooklyn. But can you find genuine New York anywhere else? It depends on who you ask. New York style pizza is defined by a wide, thin crust. But not too thin! It still has a good layer of flavorful crust to hold the toppings. Yes, you can get New York style pizza in Indianapolis. You know you’ve found it when the slices are as big as your head and you need to fold the pizza to eat it.

Deep Dish

First and foremost, deep dish pizza is not Chicago style pizza. Deep dish is usually defined by a thick, bready crust made to hold a decent amount of toppings. Many chain pizza restaurants offer a deep dish style crust. When you want a heartier pizza loaded with toppings, deep dish can be the way to go.

Chicago Style

Chicago style pizza can take things to the next level. It’s a kind of deep dish pizza, but it’s typically very deep dish. The bready crust rises up the sides to hold sauce, cheese, and toppings. The further you get from Chicago, the harder it can be to find a genuine Chicago style pizza. Though if you’re catering Nashville company lunches and want a Chicago style pizza, Old Chicago Pizza & Taproom may be the place to order from with their OC Thick Crust. It might not be quite what you’d get in Chicago, but it can give you a hint of Chicago style magic.

Detroit Style

This is a style of pizza that takes things in a different direction. Detroit style pizza is rectangular pan pizza. The edges are crispy, chewy, and full of flavor. Some pizza restaurants may even brush their crusts with butter (or herb butter). It’s also not uncommon for the pizza sauce to be dolloped on top of the cheese and other toppings. Like all the other pizza styles on this list, Detroit style pizza is perfectly caterable and ideal for any team event.

About ezCater

Thinking about lunch? ezCater is here to connect you with exactly what you want when you’re at work, and the midday hunger pangs strike. From sandwich catering to Mexican catering, ezCater’s intuitive web portal helps you find just about any kind of food or cuisine near your workplace. ezCater isn’t just a place to order catered workplace lunches—they’re also experts in corporate catering. If your company is hosting a team lunch or client event, you can order the best catering Wilmington NC has to offer, delicious Portland catering options, or catering in just about any city in America! ezCater is available coast to coast, and they’re connected with over 100,000 high-quality restaurants and caterers to deliver the food your team needs.

Get the team’s favorite pizza catered through https://www.ezcater.com/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3qodPi7

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (2)

*Horny teens are horny. Mild smut mentions ahead.*

~~~

I laid in bed watching the lightning flash outside my windows as thunder shook the room and rain poured down. As a child a storm like this would have had me hiding under my covers. Tonight though I watched the storm, every inch of my body on alert with every crack of lightning and thunder. The doors to my room burst open with a roll of thunder. A shadowed figured stood in the hallway. My heart hammered fast as I tried to see through the darkness at my intruder. A flash of lightning illuminated the once dark room and I recognized the jagged line down my visitor’s face.

“Felix?” I sat up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you weren’t scared.” He prowled closer, a wicked grin on his face as he got to the foot of my bed. “You always were so scared of storms.”

“I was…” I murmured. He was dressed only in a pair of pants. That same chiseled torso I had gawked at earlier on full display.

He crawled onto the bed until he was hovering over me. “Do you want me to stay?” His voice purred in my ear, “I can keep you warm if it gets cold.”

“Yes please,” I let the robe around me fall from my shoulders leaving me exposed. “Keep me warm, Felix.”

“Gladly.” He swooped down upon me.

~~~

I woke with a start. My body was wound up tight and I was tangled in the blankets on my bed. I gazed around me confused before the previous day’s events caught up to me. It felt like a dream that Felix and I had found this mansion last night.

Felix…

The real dream came back to me with stark detail. What had that been all about? I’ve never had a dream like that before. I never have dreams in the first place. Even when I do they’re nothing like that and most certainly do not feature Felix. Yet he had been the epicenter.

Half naked with a devilish grin looking down at my own nude body. I had wanted him to--to--

I buried my face in my pillow. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone to his room last night and saw him coming out of the bathroom. Why did I have to see that? Now I was having borderline erotic dreams about him. Oh screw borderline! I knew exactly what I had been hoping to happen and the aching between my legs only solidified it.

It’s not like I never found Felix ugly or anything. He was pleasant to look at. I dare say at times he was handsome but I never dwelled on it. Maybe a stray intrusive thought or two but they never went so far as my dream had. I couldn’t stop picturing it. Felix and I in bed, his large hands on my body, his lips caressing my skin…

I pressed my legs together as the image took root in my head. Maybe I deserve to indulge a little. For right now there is nothing to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Felix will ever know. My hand dipped between my legs as I let myself fall back into the dream. My body was extra sensitive since I hadn’t been able to indulge in this particular past time since Neverland. Not that I got to do it a whole lot there either. I swear there is absolutely no privacy on that island.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And none here either it seems.

With a small whine I swung out of bed and pulled my robe in tight. I opened the door and Felix was waiting on the other side already dressed. Could it be considered poetic irony that the boy I had just a moment ago been masturbating to interrupted said masturbation?

“Did you just wake up?” Felix looked me up and down.

“Kinda. I figured I was allowed to sleep in. What do you want?” I stepped back and started collecting my clothes from the floor. 

“Get dressed. I discovered something you’re gonna wanna see.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“No. Now hurry up.” He closed the door and left.

With a sigh a pulled my clothes back on and followed Felix up a set of stairs to a hallway that led to a dead end. “This is what you wanted to show me? A wall with a picture on it?”

“Watch this,” He pulled the light fixture next to the painting and suddenly the wall came loose and rotated opening up a passageway into a whole new room.

“This place has secret rooms now. Very cool.” I stepped inside. “A library?” I looked at the books but there were no names on the spines. I pulled one off and flipped through it but all the pages were blank. “I will say I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Oh but it gets better.” Felix went over to the desk at the end of the room and pulled open the drawer. There was a button inside. He pressed it and a section of the floor popped up. I knelt down and opened the hatch and my eyes went wide. It was a safe!

I turned the latch and nearly cried at what I saw. Money. Just stacks and stacks of money! One less thing to worry about. We wouldn’t need to scrape by or get jobs. This safe could keep us comfortable for months! Years even!

“How did you find this?” I asked Felix.

“I like puzzles and I like to snoop.” He grinned pulling out a stack of hundreds. The band around it said ten thousand. Ten thousand dollars and there were easily a hundred or more just like it from what I could tell from the naked eye. We have someplace warm to sleep and we have money for food.

I started sniffling and I could sense Felix watching me befuddled. “Sorry, I just--” I took a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes, “We’re going to survive the winter. We don’t have to be hungry or cold again.”

“I know,” Felix pulled a few hundreds from the stack and dropped the rest back in the safe. “Now how about we go do that grocery shopping you were so insistent on?”

“Yes!” I hopped to my feet. We put everything back in place and left the room. I found a pad of paper and started making a list of everything we would need. Unlike Felix who had spent so much time on Neverland that he couldn’t remember who he had been before being a Lost Boy , I did remember who I was. I remembered the responsibilities I had before Neverland. What was needed when I was made to go to market. The grocery store wasn’t like the open air markets I was used to but it was still the same general concept.

Felix and I got weird looks as we entered the store and I took one of the trollies. My first stop was to grab some toiletries. Toilet paper, shampoo, body wash, loofah, deodorant, toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, and even a set of razors in case Felix wanted to shave. Next we grabbed laundry detergent, dish soap, paper towels, spray cleaner, trash bags, aluminum, and hangers. We would need to go to a different store for clothes. Lastly, food. Now, being the designated responsible person out of the two of us I know we couldn’t just indulge in the sweets and other delicious yet not necessarily healthy food for us.

I sped up and down the aisles with Felix trailing after me as I dumped stuff into the trolley. Chicken, beef, bacon, vegetables, fruits, a ten pound bag of potatoes, bread, milk, two dozen eggs, pasta, rice, butter, flour, sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, vanilla, yeast (it’s been forever since I baked anything but I figured I could give it a try), orange juice, apple juice, cheese, canola oil, olive oil, and spices. Then came on the things I knew less about, peanut butter, chocolate chips, gummy candies, dressings, chips, ice cream, instant brownie mix, pizza rolls (they sounded good), cans of soup, yogurt, pancake/waffle mix, whipped cream, cereal, granola bars, pretzels, and tea bags.

Our trolley was overflowing with items as we wheeled our way over to the register. The man bagging our items looked at us strangely as we started unloading our groceries onto the counter. Several minutes and a trolley full of groceries later we were given our grand total. I was scared that we wouldn’t have enough but thankfully we did. We left the store and looked at our haul.

“Hey, Felix,” I paused as we were halfway through the parking lot, “How are we gonna get all this back to the mansion?”

“We steal the cart.” He said it like it was obvious. “Who is gonna stop us?”

“True.” We started out trip back to the mansion and pushed the trolley into the house. We spent the next several minute cramming things into cabinets and the icebox. I pushed the trolley back outside and went to put my toiletries away while Felix took the laundry items down to the basement. I would also need to learn how to use the electronic washers they had here if I wanted clean clothes.

Speaking of clean clothes, “Felix!” I shouted down the steps, “We’re not done yet today. We need to go clothes shopping.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t bring any extra sets of clothes with me when we left Neverland and I’m sick of wearing these dirty rags. Now get a move on!”

Felix came upstairs with a scowl. “Don’t pout. Even if we kept these clothes clean they stand out too much. I think it’s part of the reason everyone glares at us. We’ll arise less suspicion if we blend in. Especially since our mission is to find a way out of here and back to Neverland.”

“Fine.” Felix grumbled. He counted the remaining money in his pocket. “Let me grab a few more bills from the library just to be safe.”

My stomach grumbled and I decided to grab a granola bar to settle my stomach while I waited for Felix. This house was so strange. They didn’t have any dish soap but they had pots and pans. No shampoo but they had combs. Not a lick of food but a cabinet dedicated to what looked like a very fragile table set.

Felix came back a few hundred dollars richer and we made our way back into town for the second time that day. The clothes store was emptier than the grocery store which put me more at ease. Felix and I went our separate ways as I perused around the racks and racks of clothing. I grabbed a few shirts, pajamas, sweatshirts, sweat pants, underwear, socks, gloves, a scarf, hat, a thick jacket, a new pair of boots, and a large messenger bag. When I went to try on some pants though I was thoroughly disappointed. They fit fine but the pockets on them were tiny! I could barely get my hand in them. Was this what pants were like here? Why?!

I went over to the men’s section and found Felix also trying on some new clothes. It was a simple black t-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans but it looked really good on him. He almost looked less foreboding. Maybe that was just due to the fact that he didn’t have his cloak hood up like usual.

“You look mad,” Felix chuckled upon seeing me stomp up to him.

“I am! Look at this.” I squeezed a few of my fingers into my jeans pocket. “These pants have absolutely no room! Are yours like this as well?”

“Mine?” he stuck his entire hand in his pocket up to the middle of his forearm. “Nope.”

“What the hell?” I stuck my hand in his other pocket. These were so much roomier than mine! “Why are these better than the ones in my section?”

“I don’t know,” Felix pulled my hand out of his pocket, his face was red with anger again and he wouldn’t look me in the eye, “You can stop invading my personal space though.”

“Oops, sorry.” I snatched my hand back to my chest. What had I been thinking? I essentially stuck my hand down his pants and for what? Because I was jealous of the size of his pockets? I grabbed a few pants from his section that looked to be my size and raced back to the dressing rooms in my section. These fit just as well as the ones I was wearing now but the pockets were much roomier so I chucked the others away and got the men’s pants.

Felix met me at the registers when he was done browsing. He still wasn’t looking at me. I think I made things between us really uncomfortable. We paid for the clothes but had no trolley this time so had to carry everything in large bags back to the mansion. After we got back Felix disappeared into his room. I changed into a pair of the comfy new clothes I bought and went downstairs to make myself something to eat.

I heated a can of soup up and sat down to eat. I wasn’t in the mood to be so adventurous as to make a full blown meal. Now that we had all the essentials Felix and I could start our search for a way back to Neverland in earnest.

I didn’t see Felix for the rest of the night. Figures he wouldn’t want to be around me after we spent all day together. I drew myself another hot bath and this time was able to actually wash myself with the soap and shampoo we had bought. I felt truly clean for the first time in a long time as I slid on the pajamas I bought and crawled back into bed.

Rain pattered outside and I was reminded of my dream from this morning. A part of me dreading and hoping that I would have another just like it.

~~~

Fucking hell! You were killing him! You had to be trying to kill him! That’s what Felix concluded as he locked himself in the master bedroom of the mansion.

Ever since Felix had let himself be talked into going to Storybrooke with you he had been forced by your side. You were the only Lost One in Storybrooke still loyal to Pan when all the others had run off to find families for themselves. He told himself he was tagging along instead of staying in Neverland to enact revenge on those that murdered Pan but that was only half of the story.

He should have never followed you though. Revenge aside. It hadn’t worked out anyway. Even after he learned that Pan was still alive, albeit in someone else’s body, it wasn’t enough. Pan died anyway before he got to enact the curse that would have turned this worthless town into a new Neverland. Now everyone was happy and safe and you and Felix were both very much stranded.

Finding this mansion had been a sweet turn of luck. He knew you were right when you mentioned needing a better place to stay over winter. Felix didn’t like the cold either but he could tolerate it better than you. Every night since you two got here you would shiver the night away at your camp. The night before it had been so cold that even Felix was cursing the wind. While he shivered though he glanced across the fire pit at you. You were huddled in so tight to yourself. Teeth chattering and body convulsing.

He was glad that you didn’t make any mention of him giving you his cloak as an extra form of warmth that night. He didn’t want to try explaining why he had done it. Terrible complicated feelings that he refused to acknowledge. He pushed them down hard, stomped them into dust so they could never rear their ugly head again.

Then he had gotten out of the bath. Truly clean for the first time in years he had left the bathroom and all those complicated feelings from before shot to the surface at the scene laid out before him. You knelt on the ground with only a towel barely covering you. Your wet hair leaving drops of water rolling down your shoulders and back.

His jaw clenched and he fumbled to maintain some composure as you explained what you were doing practically naked in his room. He had found the robe in the master bathroom and was planning on wearing it to bed himself but when he caught sight of you he was only too happy to chuck it into your arms. He needed you to cover up. He needed you clothed and out of his room that instant!

He was far from relaxed after you had left that night. The sight of you knelt over, the towel just barely covering your ass was burned into his brain. He ignored the stirring under his towel and dove into the large bed. He tossed and turned most of the night trying to rid the image and the thoughts he was having. His mind betrayed him though as it brought him much more vivid fantasies of you on his bed wearing nothing at all and beckoning him to take you.

He woke soon after breathing hard and his hand around his cock. Felix cursed the fact that he had a lewd dream about you of all people. He tried to ignore the images flashing in his head but when he closed his eyes there you were on all fours again with a teasing smile. He jumped into the bathroom and turned on the shower hoping a cold jolt would snap him back to sense but then he was thinking of you in this shower with him. Water rolling down your body, that same teasing smile and sultry voice begging him to take you against the wall.

For a few minutes he swallowed his embarrassment and let the fantasy play out fucking into his fist and pretending it was you squeezing around him instead. He thought of your moans and whimpers egging him on. Begging him to be harder, faster, rougher. He bit his lip to keep from shouting as he finally spent himself and started coming down from his high.

He felt more relaxed afterwards but the release of tension didn’t make him feel better knowing he had masturbated to you. You were his...friend? You two had never been friends before coming to Storybrooke and he doubted that you two were that now. Whatever you were to him he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You both wanted to get back to Neverland and having obscene fantasies of you was not the way to go about that.

It was still fairly early but he was too wound up to go back to bed. So he got dressed and went exploring throughout the mansion. That’s how he had found the secret library full of blank books and that secret vault under the floorboards. He put everything back in place before racing to wake you up and show you. He had almost forgotten about his dream until you opened the door and he was met with your sleepy face and bedhead. Had you always been this attractive or was it just the layers of dirt that had gotten washed away last night that made you much more appealing to him suddenly? He decided not to dwell on why he was having these thoughts and instead took you down to see the stash of money he had found.

You were so giddy at the knowledge that you could actually have a roof over your head and food in your belly that he found himself smiling too. Your smile was so infectious. He let you take the lead when you went shopping. He didn’t recognize half the stuff he saw in that store but trusted your judgement when you dropped something in the cart.

Then there was when you went to go clothes shopping. Felix wouldn’t admit that he was getting a little worn out of his Neverland attire. It was functional but that was all he could say about it. The smell of it after he had gotten out of the bath the night before almost made him gag. Perhaps this was the reason no one wanted you or him around. You both reeked of years of living in a jungle.

You two were on totally opposite ends of the clothing store so Felix thought he was safe until you came charging into his dressing room ranting about the tiny pockets on your pants. The tight fitted pants that hugged your legs and ass perfectly. Then when you unceremoniously stuffed your hand down his pocket to see how deep they were it took all his self control and thoughts of rotting animal carcasses to not pop an erection right there in the store.

You were trying to make him burst a blood vessel and you didn’t even seem to notice! Which is why he was back in his room sitting on his bed hungry and horny. He was waiting until after he was sure you had gone to bed to get some food. He really didn’t want to chance running into you again and risk those impure thoughts bubbling to the surface once more.

Hopefully today had just been a spoof and tomorrow all these strange new thoughts and feelings would be gone. You two had a mission after all. Get back to Neverland. Lust wasn’t going to help that mission.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[itubainaretro]

TW // mentions of violence (the attack) 

Sunday, November 15th 2020 -  22:53 

Maybe right now Sander and Robbe are still together in Sander’s house, putting the last of their dinner away and almost done with cleaning the kitchen so they can head to Sander’s room and get settled for the night.

-

Usually, Robbe spends Sunday nights at home, with his mama, finishing some last minute homework and assignment that he had left unattended during the week, but not tonight. Tonight he’s staying at Sander’s place, just like he has been doing since Friday night, and he still thinks it’s cute how Sander made sure to ask Robbe’s mama himself if there was any problem with Robbe spending the entire weekend with him, including Sunday night, more than a week ago. She said there was no problem as long as Robbe finished his school work on time and really went to school on Monday morning and not skipped classes to stay with Sander. Robbe promised his mama he would be responsible and he made sure to keep that promise, finishing all his school work by Thursday and leaving for Sander’s house Friday afternoon after giving his mama’s cheek a kiss and hugging her goodbye.

Robbe didn’t think too much of it when Sander asked him, thinking maybe Sander just missed him and wanted to spend some alone time with him since his parents would be gone for the weekend so they would have the house all to themselves, besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to spend all the time he could with Sander, so he simply agreed to it, without giving it a second thought. 

Until he realised the date.

Things changed when Robbe woke up today and noticed what day it was and what happened to them a year ago. Their first date. The countless hours they spent at the bar, their bar, talking, getting to know each other, drinking, flirting and taking silly photos of one another. The breathtaking kisses they shared outside. And how it all came to an abrupt end. 

Robbe tried not to think too much about it, he tried to keep those memories out of his brain, locked in a box he shoved at the back of his mind and pretended to forget it existed. Instead he tried to focus on the good parts of the night, like when he got to the bar and saw Sander waiting for him by the bike racks with the most beautiful smile on his face, or when they entered the bar and Sander held the door open for him like a true gentleman, or when he pulled that stupid magic trick he learned when he was a kid and Sander found it amusing despite telling Robbe to stop, a sweet smile adorning his face.

It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but he managed, being easily distracted by Sander’s presence and all the plans he had for them throughout the day. 

After waking up they watched an old movie, one of Sander’s favourites, in Sander’s bed, and stayed there cuddling for what felt like a thousand years, until their bellies started making weird noises, signaling it was time for them to get up and get some breakfast in their systems. They spent the rest of the morning listening to music and cleaning the mess they made in the kitchen yesterday, during their spontaneous instagram live to try out their new Croque 2000 machine, that was left there to be taken care of later after Sander’s near death experience choking on a tomato. They laughed while remembering Sander’s face after getting rid of the offensive tomato and hugging Robbe, thanking him for saving his life and promising to not try that ever again. Robbe couldn’t stop himself from kissing him and calling him a dork. 

For lunch they had some leftover pizzas they had had on Friday night and sometime during the afternoon, after taking a nap together in front of Sander’s TV while some random documentary played as background noise, Sander requested Robbe’s help in the kitchen again so they could start making dinner. Sander decided to go all out and make them pasta from scratch and it was a delight to see them both messing up until they finally got it right and managed to not only make a decent meal from scratch but a delicious one at that.

-

So right now they’re almost done with the dishes, Robbe washing and rinsing everything and Sander drying them and putting them back in their rightful places. 

After rinsing the last of the cutlery, Robbe washes his hands and waits for Sander to finish drying and putting everything away, leaning on the counter and smiling as he sees Sander shaking his head to the music that plays softly from his phone.

As soon as Sander puts away the last fork he was drying he absentmindedly throws the dishcloth somewhere near the table and grabs Robbe’s waist and pulls him into a kiss. It takes Robbe a bit by surprise but he soon after follows Sander’s lead, opening up to him as soon as he feels Sander’s tongue grazing his bottom lip, asking for entrance. It’s urgent, fast, all consuming and all Robbe can think about, feel and smell is Sander, Sander, Sander.

They make their way to Sander’s room, closing the door out of habit, and Sander pushes Robbe against it to kiss him again. It’s another urgent kiss, but this time it feels desperate, like they’re both trying to hold onto something they don’t know how to name. It feels off.

Sander is the first one to break the kiss, breathing heavily and leaning his head against Robbe’s with his eyes still closed. He takes a deep breath and Robbe waits for him to say something, gently caressing his neck from where his hand had found its way to earlier, hoping it soothes him.

Sander shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Robbe whispers, “it’s okay.”

“No,” Sander shakes his head again, “it’s not.”

Robbe pulls away a little, trying to search for Sander’s eyes, but he still has them closed. He caresses his thumb across Sander’s laugh lines and hopes he understands what Robbe wants from him. Sander opens his eyes but doesn’t meet Robbe’s gaze, looking down instead.

“San, look at me,” Robbe tries again. “Please?”

Sander finally looks at him and the sight of Sander’s defeated green eyes is enough to make Robbe’s heart break.

“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Robbe shakes his head. “Sander, there’s nothing to apologise for. What’s going on?” 

“Yes, there is,” Sander nods. “Tonight I wanted to show you how that night was supposed to go, how it was supposed to have ended,” his voice is barely a whisper. “But I don’t think I can.”

Robbe takes a sharp inhale of breath and silence falls between them.

After a few seconds Sander breaks the silence. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bringing it up and I’m sorry for that night as well.” He sounds choked up.

Robbe shakes his head and engulfs Sander in a hug. “Sander, please, it wasn’t your fault,” he whispers in his neck. “It was never your fault.”

Sander holds him tight and both of them can feel the other’s tears making a wet trail in their clothes the moment they both break down crying.

“And we were both thinking about it the whole day today, so don’t apologise for bringing it up either,” Robbe’s voice is hoarse.

They stand like that, just holding each other for a long time, until Sander pulls away a little bit and kisses Robbe’s forehead, disentangling them from the hug and leading them to his bed.

When they get settled, side by side, Robbe is the first one to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?”

They never properly talked about that night, about how they felt or how hard it was, avoiding all the pain that came with the memory of it, just that they shouldn’t let the existence of close-minded people allow them to make their world smaller, but Robbe thinks it’s about time they do, as painful as it sounds.

Sander nods. 

“I tried helping you, but I wasn’t fast enough,” Sander starts. “I’m sorry about that.” His eyes are still gleaming with the tears he shed earlier. “And I’m sorry we had to go through that, I wished it had never happened...”

Robbe grabs his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“But most of all I’m sorry for what I said and how I treated you after”, Sander continues. “That wasn’t a case of shit happens, Robbe. It could’ve cost us our lives and we should’ve gone to the police, and I know it’s no excuse, but I was afraid. I was so scared, Robbe. I didn’t want to relive that night ever again and just the thought of having to tell someone what happened and go back to those memories, tracing step by step of what and how everything happened killed me, that’s why I told you we shouldn’t go. I’m so sorry.”

Robbe hugs Sander closer and lets his head rest on his shoulder, trying to give him some sort of comfort and seeking some for himself too. He feels Sander dropping a kiss to his hair before he takes another breath and speaks again.

“And the thing with Britt, I….”

Robbe squeezes Sander’s hand. “San, it’s okay.” Because they’ve already talked about that, and Robbe doesn’t want to make Sander talk about all the things that hurt him, hurt them, all at once if he’s not ready for it.

Sander musters up enough courage and goes on anyways. “Somehow I made myself believe it was all my fault and that you’d be better off without me, safer... and I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you again, Robbe, so I had to keep you away from me. I deliberately tried to push you away, even though I knew it would hurt you, because I thought you being with me would hurt you much more, and I couldn’t have that. That’s why I went to that party and kissed Britt and let her post those stupid photos. As soon as I did it, though, I knew it was wrong. But there was no going back then, it was already too late…” Sander shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

Robbe starts crying at the same time he feels Sander’s tears falling down on him, so he turns around and climbs into Sander’s lap to hug him as close as humanly possible in that moment. Sander squeezes his shoulders, burying his face on Robbe’s neck, and doesn’t let go.

After some time, when their tears have subsided and they’re just trying to find comfort in each other’s arms Sander rearranges them so they’re sitting in a more comfortable position, facing each other. 

Robbe bites his lips before finding the courage to talk too. He breathes in and out twice before he starts. “The first thing I need you know is that it wasn’t your fault, Sander. None of it was, you know that, right?” 

When Sander nods, he continues. “Please believe it.” 

Robbe gives him a lingering kiss on the forehead before speaking again. “I wish it had never happened to us either and I’m sorry it did. I’m sorry I couldn’t unlock my bike fast enough or reach you when those guys came for us, I was so scared too...” he takes a deep breath. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t support each other the way we needed to in the aftermath.” 

Sander grabs his hands and gives it a squeeze, interlocking their fingers and resting their hands on his lap.

“But the way we reacted wasn’t our fault either, Sander. We both went through a huge trauma that night and what we did afterwards was us barely trying to find a way to cope with whatever was being thrown our way. It hurt, yes. You hurt me, but deep down I always knew there was a deeper meaning behind the things you did. You weren’t doing those things out of spite to purposefully hurt me. You’re not cruel, San. I know you and I know your heart, and I know we weren’t together for long back then, but I knew you then as well. And I knew you wouldn’t want to hurt me just because.”

Robbe disentangles one of his hands from Sander’s grasp and lifts it up to caress his cheek. Sander nuzzles into it and Robbe smiles weakly. He brings their faces close and rests his forehead against Sander’s.  

“But if you need to listen to this to make peace with it I’ll tell you: I forgive you, Sander,” Robbe says sincerely. “I had already forgiven you back then, when you found your way back to me in the flatshare on that Friday night,” he caresses Sander’s cheek again. “But I need you to do something for me too.”

“Anything.” Sander answers in a beat.

“Forgive yourself too,” Robbe whispers. 

Sander nods and hugs Robbe tight against his chest, Robbe’s fingers finding their way to Sander’s hair like it’s second nature and staying there for a long time.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about this,” Robbe whispers some time later against Sander’s ear. “What happened that night hurt the both of us, Sander, and if you ever feel the need to talk about it you can talk to me, no matter how much it hurts me. I know it hurts you too.” His voice breaks. “But you’ve always been there for me when I needed you and I want to be there for you too, okay?”

Robbe can feel Sander nodding against him.

“We will get through this together,” Robbe reassures Sander. “It may have taken us a whole year to talk about it, but we finally did it and now we can finally start healing from this together, like we always do.”

Sander’s voice trembles when he speaks. “I know.” 

“I love you, and nothing will ever change that, okay? Please remember it.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”

Robbe closes the distance between them and kisses Sander.

-

They spend the rest of the night in bed curled around each other underneath the covers, still talking about that night, but trying to focus on the good part of it instead. Trying to separate the traumatic event from the happy memories they had from their first date.

“I was feeling like the luckiest man in the world, Robin,” Sander smiles down at Robbe, still playing with his hair that’s going in a million different directions now since Robbe’s been  resting his head on his chest for the past hour. “You looked so pretty in all those lights.”

Sander can feel Robbe’s smile before he sees it. “Despite us only having had that one beer I think I have never felt drunker in my life than I felt that night,” Robbe admits, looking up at Sander, an adorable smile adorning his face. “I guess maybe I was just love drunk.” 

Sander can’t help leaning down to give him a quick kiss.

“I know I keep talking about us going back to that bar until it feels right again because it’s our bar, but you know we have all the time in the world, right?” Sander asks. “It doesn’t have to happen now, or a week from today, or even in the next 10 years, okay? I don’t care if it takes us our whole lifetimes to go back there again, I just want you to feel safe. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“I know,” Robbe reassures him, nodding. “We’ll take things day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.” He smiles. “We’ll get there eventually.”

Sander nods. “And I’m sorry to bring the topic back,” he says hesitantly, “but if we still want to report what happened to the police we can. There’s no expiration date for these things and it doesn’t matter if they’ll catch whoever did that to us or not, we still have a right to let the police know what happened to us.”

“Thank you,” Robbe whispers. “I know it won’t be easy to talk about it, for neither of us, and I actually don’t even know if I’m ready to talk about this with anyone else besides you for now, but thank you for letting me know.” He rearranges himself in the bed so he can be on Sander’s level and look him in the eyes, both boys now laying on their sides. “When we’re both ready we’ll do it. Together.”

Sander nods and gives him a soft kiss. 

Robbe’s hand travels up to Sander’s face, gently caressing the small scar he has by the side of his eye, making Sander close his eyes at the soft touch. “Thank you for being so patient with me...” Robbe whispers so close to Sander’s mouth that both boys can feel the vibrations of the words on their lips. “... and thank you for tonight.”

Robbe can feel Sander’s small smile on his own lips when he speaks. “There’s no need to thank me, I love you.” He emphasizes his words with a kiss. “And the night didn’t go exactly as planned, so…” He trails off.

“Maybe not, but it happened the way it was supposed to happen this time,” Robbe says. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, San. I’m exactly where I want to be. Laying in your bed with you, not even an inch separating us from each other,” he reassures him. “I feel like talking about this has made my heart the calmest it’s ever been,” he confesses.

“Mine too,” Sander agrees, smiling.

“See?”, Robbe smiles genuinely at Sander. “I’m happy and I hope that you’re happy too.”

“I am,” Sander’s smile is the most beautiful thing Robbe has ever seen in his life. “I really am.”

[sweatergirlsposts]

Imagine Confirming that you, a Famous Italian Singer, are Dating Harry Styles

Title: Down in Little Italy 

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem Italian Singer!Reader 

‘INCOMING ZOOM CALL’

‘Connecting with WIRED’

Your screen took a couple a seconds before loading to up to see the producer and editor on the other end. You sat in your private home studio with all your instruments, ready to do your in home interview for WIRED. 

“Ciao,” you wave to the camera and greet the producer and editor.

“Hey there,” waved back the editor

“Hey (Y/N), nice to see you again!” expressed the producer before immediately jumping into instructing you, “Okay (Y/N) we want you to do exactly what you did in your last interview with us, short answers for the most part unless you feel the need to extend it”

“Buono” you answered in your main language before switching into your English dialect.

“Also did you receive the question boards in the mail?”

“I did, one of the question strips came off so I taped it back on,” you laughed at the damaged board before holding it out in front of you. 

“That’s alright, you’ll be taking them off anyway, now you can start whenever you want to, and we’ll be receiving the live footage from your DSLR camera.” 

You nodded before taking a deep breath and looking into your camera, “Hi I’m famous singer, (Y/N) (L/N),  and I’m doing the Wired autocomplete interview part two, quarantine edition!!”

“Alright let’s get this started,” you pulled off the first question, “Is (Y/N) (L/N) from Spain? No, I am from Rome, Italy and that is currently where I am quarantining”

“Is (Y/N) (L/N) a good singer? Well I like to think I am but you tell me”

“Is (Y/N) (L/N) friends with Harry Styles? I’m very close with Harry, we’ve been very close for the last couple years. We actually met at Coachella a couple years ago, when I was performing as a smaller artist at the time. His manager had reached out to mine to meet me. I was very shocked when I heard that he wanted to meet me but apparently he was a new fan of mine. It just took off from their and we decided recently to make an album, next question!” you hastily moved on trying to avoid this question the sort.  

“Is (Y/N) (L/N) collaborating with Harry Styles? Oh Santo Cielo, what is with you people on the internet and your obsession with Harry and I?” you laughed trying to make a joke about all the search questions of Harry and yourself.

“I will be honest, we are indeed collaborating and spoiler alert our album is called ‘Down in Little Italy’. It’s very story-esque and that’s all I can say about it. I’m very excited to be working with Harry.” you threw the the board away to the side and picked up the next one. 

“Who is (Y/N) (L/N)? I’m am the one and the only Grammy winning Italian singer and pockets enthusiast (Y/N) (L/N),” you pronounced doing an announcers impression.   

“Who was (Y/N) (L/N) with at the Rome farmers market?” you looked at the camera like the do in the office, “None of your business.....”

“Who is (Y/N) (L/N) dating? Harry Styles?” you read the question you revealed to the camera. 

“Again I cannot say. We are planning on-”

“(Y/N) I’m home love!!” you heard Harry yell from your front door. You told Harry that you had an interview this afternoon and asked him to pick up some fresh produce for tonight’s dinner. He must of forgot that you were still in your interview. 

Your face turned blank at hearing your lover yell to you from the other side of the house. You guys wanted to keep it private for at least another couple weeks before coming out about your guys relationship. As of present time, you both had been dating for the last nine months. 

“Was that-” the producer spoke up before you cut him off.

“Maybe..... cazzo” you muttered under your breath. “Beh, immagino che i gatti siano fuori dalla borsa

“(N/N) I’m back, how was your interview?” Harry trailed off before realizing that you were still filming. You look over to your boyfriend who stood behind your camera setup. 

‘Are you still filming?’ he mouthed to you and you nodded awkwardly still looking into the camera. 

‘Oops’ he mouthed again. Harry walked over in front of the camera, face fully in front of it, and waved, ”Hello”

“We’re never gonna here the end of it il mio amore” you spoke letting it hang in the air. Harry came over to you and kissed you on the cheek.

“Eh it was bound it happen sooner or later,” he whispered in your ear before turning back to the camera.

“For all that are really clueless at the moment as of what’s going on, (Y/N) and I are dating. We wanted to wait a little bit longer before telling you all, but I guess that there’s no better time like the present. Hope you all are having a good quarantine, I’m gonna let my beautiful girlfriend finish her interview,” he winked at the camera before stealing a quick kiss from your lips and walked out of the studio. 

“Ummm well..... do you want to continue (Y/N)?” the producer spoke up awkwardly due to how the interview derailed for a couple minutes.

“Uh yes definitely!” you snapped out of your daze of surprise of how Harry and you just revealed your relationship on camera. You picked up the cards and continued the interview.

After you finished the interview, you went around your house to try and find Harry. Walking around the first floor of your house, you kept checking different rooms but you didn’t find your boyfriend. 

Checking all but one room, you head to the kitchen. As you got closer you could tell by the smell of the herbs, fresh cut tomatoes, and cooked dough what he was making. 

Harry had his back towards you when you walked into the kitchen. You went up and slithered your arms around his midsection. He jumped slightly but relaxed into your touch. He grabbed your hand from his midsection and placed a feather-light upon it.

“Sorry about interrupting your interview.....and letting them know about us”

“It’s alright Harr, like you said it was bound to happen sooner or later,” you snuggled into his back, “Pizza again?”

“You know it love, it’s the best Italian dish I can make for you,” He twisted in your arms in order to face you. He cupped your face in his hands and scanned your beautiful skin. He couldn’t wait for the album to come out. It was supposed to be about how your guys love developed in California, London, but mainly in your home in Italy. 

“Well I guess I’m gonna have to teach you sometime. My mother won’t let me bring you home unless you know how to cook something else other than pizza”

“I don’t mind that,” Harry nuzzled his nose against yours and gave you a small sweet kiss on your lips, “I love you”

“Ti amo anch'io”  

MASTERLIST

Request By @writerdream22

(A/N: Here are the translations below from this imagine, I got them google translate and I hope they’re close to accurate! Ciao = Hello/Goodbye, Buono = good, Beh, immagino che i gatti siano fuori dalla borsa = well I guess the cats out of the bag,  il mio amore = my love,  Ti amo anch'io = I love you too) 

[ur-not-reddie]

I have a request!

So, the losers all go to a cabin for the weekend, they’re all like NO BANGING GUYS, Mikes family owns it or something. Richie and Eddie have been together for a while, and the losers know, but Richie and Eddie are SUPER private. Like, one time Ben caught them kiss, but that’s it. Richie gets jealous because some cashier or something was flirting with Eddie. Eddie’s like “you know what Richie whatever” and he tries to ignore Richie, but Richie makes it very difficult (yknow, yknow). They end up fucking and whoever’s bedroom is next to theirs can hear them, and Eddie limps out the next morning all covered in hickies and everyone’s like sheesh what the fuck happened.

a/n: for context, this takes places after their first year in college and going back to derry that summer to meet up with the rest of the losers again :)

word count: 2.1k

-

All the Losers pull up to the cabin that Mike’s family is letting them use for the weekend. They all climb out of their cars, grabbing all of their belongings, bringing them inside as they all stumble through the front door. Everyone starts to look around, taking in the scenery.

“Before we get settled,” Mike says, getting everyone’s attention. “There are a few rules.” 

“Rules?” Richie asks in a mocking type of tone. 

“Yes, rules.” Mike says sweetly, flashing a genuine smile before explaining. “They’re fairly simple: clean up after yourselves, don’t ruin anything,” Mike glances quickly at Richie. “And lastly, no banging or hooking up!” Richie and Eddie exchange looks, a look that says ‘challenge accepted’. 

The Losers all grab their belongings and split off into separate rooms. Mike in the main front bedroom, Beverly and Ben in one room, Stan and Bill in the other, while Richie and Eddie take the last back bedroom. Eddie opens the door, Richie following in after him. Richie shuts the door, snaking his arms from behind Eddie and pulling him close. 

“Eds,” Richie whispers in Eddie’s ear, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck. Eddie closes his eyes, letting out a pleased hum as he leans back into Richie. Eddie’s about to lose himself in Richie's touch when Mike’s words start ringing in his ears. 

“Richie, we can’t.” Eddie says as he gets out of Richie’s warm embrace and turns to face him. “Remember what Mike said?” 

“Oh, I remember.” Richie smirks as he grabs at Eddie’s hips, pulling him close again. “That doesn’t mean I’ll follow them.” 

“I know, because you never do.” Eddie gives a soft laugh as he backs up again, heading to the door. “But later…” he winks terribly as he exits the room. Richie rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his head as his mind wanders off to all the things he wants to do with Eddie while following after him. 

They meet the rest of the Losers in the living room where they’re watching a scary movie while eating homemade pizza and sitting by the fireplace. Richie and Eddie grab plates, getting slices of their own and joining the others who are sitting on the floor. And Eddie, who’s the most scared, occasionally jumps, hiding his face in Richie’s arm. Richie so badly wants to put his arm around Eddie, hold him tightly as he tells him it’s all fake and just a movie, but Richie refrains. 

The thing is with these two is that they are secretly together even though it’s not so much of a secret to the others. They’re such a tight knit group, and they know each other so well that they can read each other like a paperback book. Thankfully, they’re all respectable and don’t pressure Richie and Eddie to come out. 

After the movie is over, they all take care of their dishes, help clean the kitchen before they all split off into their rooms. Richie grabs at Eddie, pushing his back into the wall as he traps Eddie’s lips with his own in a needy kiss. Eddie kisses back, standing up on his tiptoes, entangling his fingers in Richie’s thick, dark hair. Richie then slips his tongue inside Eddie’s mouth, exploring a little harshly.

“R-Rich,” Eddie says against Richie’s lips, giggling as he breaks the kiss. “What’s gotten into you?” Eddie lets out a few more giggles. 

“What do you mean? I just want you like always.” Richie smirks with a purr.

“I know, but it’s more than usual.” Eddie says, eyes going wide as he realizes how that could possibly be taken the wrong way. “I don’t mind it, trust me, I really don’t.” Eddie bats his eyes at the other. Richie sighs, his smirk slightly fading. 

“It’s just, before we came here, I saw the cashier looking you all up and down like you’re some fucking three course meal!” Richie exhales heavily in frustration, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Richie,” Eddie can’t help but let out even more giggles. “It means nothing. I like you and I want you... In every way all the time.” Eddie runs his hands over Richie’s clothed chest. “Those other people can look at me however they want, but I only see you.” Eddie says sincerely. 

“Fuck,” Richie exhales as he cups Eddie’s face, smashing their lips back together. Eddie lets out a surprised squeak, but kisses back just as intensely. 

Richie picks Eddie up and lays him down on the bed, settling between Eddie’s legs as he hovers over him. He keeps the kiss intense, exploring a bit more before Richie starts kissing along Eddie’s jaw and down his neck. Eddie lets heavy sighs escape past his swollen lips, tilting his head to the side as Richie slides his hands under Eddie’s shirt. He takes it off of Eddie and lets it fall to the floor as he starts sucking dark bruises along Eddie’s neck and collarbones. 

“Oh god, Richie.” Eddie lets out a deep moan, covering his mouth with his hand as he keeps thinking of the rules that Mike talked about. 

“I’m hardly touching you, baby. Just kissing and sucking and you’re acting like a bitch in heat.” Richie teases with a growl, his already dark eyes growing even darker with lust. Eddie’s cheeks burn bright red, his eyes shifting downcast for a second, then meeting Richie’s gaze again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says sheepishly causing Richie to chuckle. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby, I love how desperate you get for me.” Richie kisses at Eddie’s lower belly, still keeping eye contact with him. He then takes off his own shirt before popping the button on Eddie’s jeans and slowly. 

“Please,” Eddie begs. “Please don’t tease me.” Eddie lets out a whimper. 

“Alright, baby, I won’t.” Richie hums honestly as he slides Eddie’s jeans off of his legs and lastly his boxers. “So stunning,” Richie exhales, he never fails to compliment Eddie; never failing to make him feel as good as possible. 

“No, no, I can’t be the only one who’s naked.” Eddie raises an eyebrow, giving Richie a testing look. Richie hums, also raising an eyebrow as he finishes undressing. 

“Hands and knees,” Richie orders gently. Eddie does as told, leaning down to press the side of his face against the mattress. 

Richie runs his hands softly over Eddie’s ass, massaging and squeezing gently. Eddie closes his eyes, smiling at the soft actions. Richie repeats this for a bit before suddenly spreading his ass wide open and licking a slow stripe at his entrance, Eddie letting out a surprised and loud squeal. 

“Wow, baby.” Richie chuckles. 

“I… I wasn’t expecting that.” Eddie’s words are muffled, burying his whole face in the pillows, feeling way past embarrassed. 

“I know, we haven’t done this in a while, huh?” Richie smirks, making Eddie uncover his face. “I want to see your beautiful face twist and turn as I eat you out,” 

Richie spreads Eddie’s legs more, making him all wide and open before he licks back at Eddie’s hole. Eddie bites down on the pillow, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white. Richie then starts to swirl his around, occasionally poking his tongue inside. 

“Rich!” Eddie’s moans are muffled, Richie growling, grabbing the pillow and throwing it to the floor. 

“I want to fucking hear you!” Richie growls louder, smacking Eddie’s ass harshly, causing him to squeak. Richie then starts working his tongue harder and faster, making Eddie anything but quiet. “That’s it, good boy.” Richie pulls back, sucking in his fingers briefly before sliding one inside of Eddie. 

“O-oh fuck!” Eddie mewls, eyes rolling in the back of his head. Richie pumps his finger slowly at first but is not satisfied when Eddie hushes his sounds, so Richie picks up the pace and adds a second finger. 

“Richie! Richie, please!” Eddie’s voice quivers, nearly in tears as his cock is leaking desperately. 

“Please what?” Richie asks in faux innocence. 

“Oh, fuck you! You know what I want!” Eddie groans in frustration as he turns over and lays on his back to face Richie. 

“God, you’re pushing it. You’re lucky we’re at where we’re at or you’d so be punished.” Richie’s eyes narrow down at the other. 

“Oh we truly are lucky, aren’t we?” Eddie keeps testing the water, trying his best to hold back his devious smile. 

“That’s it,” Richie says, grabbing Eddie’s ankles and pulling him down, Richie having Eddie wrap his legs around his waist. “When we get back home, you are in major trouble.” 

Eddie lets out a nervous laugh, knowing he is in absolute trouble when they do get back home, but he doesn’t show it. Instead, he cups Richie’s face and brings him down with a rough kiss, Richie returning the action as he teases his cock against Eddie’s aching hole before pushing all the way in. Eddie breaks the kiss, gasping as he throws his head back, back arching as he digs his nails into Richie’s shoulders. 

Richie thrusts at a rapid and somewhat aggressive pace. He pins Eddie’s hips to the mattress as the tip of his cock rubs against his prostate causing Eddie to be anything but quiet. Eddie opens his eyes, panting heavily as he scrapes his nails down Richie’s back, Richie hissing in gratification. 

“Are you going to cum?” Richie asks in a low, husky tone that sends shivers down Eddie’s spine. 

“Yes! Please, please?” Eddie whines, eyes starting to glaze over. 

“Go ahead, baby, cum for me!” Richie demands, grabbing Eddie’s dick and pumping him in the same rhythm as the thrusts, Eddie cumming almost immediately, hole tightening around Richie’s length, causing Richie to cum inside of Eddie uncontrollably. “Fuck,” Richie moans, exhaling a shaky breath, heart punching at his chest. “That was so fucking good.” Richie whispers as he rests his forehead against Eddie’s. 

“It really was,” Eddie smiles, giving Richie an eskimo kiss. “Am I… Am I still in trouble when we get back home?” Eddie asks, batting his eyes, hoping Richie changed his mind. 

“Oh, most definitely.” Richie smirks and pulls out of Eddie, both cleaning themselves up before cuddling up into each other and falling asleep. 

The next morning, Richie is the first one awake. He turns over, looking at Eddie and smiling, thinking Eddie resembles a soft angel, although he would probably never tell him that. Richie grabs gently at Eddie, pulling him close to his body. “Good morning,” Richie greets in a sing-song type tone. Eddie shifts around, mumbling sleepily, eventually waking up. 

“Good morning,” Eddie says back, giving him a weak and tired smile back. 

“How’d you sleep?” Richie asks, raising a hand up to Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 

“Like a rock,” Eddie stretches and yawns. “How about you?” 

“Also like a rock,” Richie stretches well, before sitting both of them up. “We should get dressed and head out for breakfast, I think everyone else is in the kitchen.” 

“Okay,” Eddie says as he gives another yawn and stands up, taking a step and noticing how sore he is. He starts to get dressed, throwing on a clean shirt and a pair of sweats before looking at himself in the mirror, noticing that his neck is covered in hickeys. “God dammit, Richie!” Eddie raises his voice, running his fingers softly over the bruises. 

“Whaaaat?” Richie chuckles, standing behind Eddie and pressing small kisses to the top of his head. “Let’s go eat,” Richie says as he also throws on some comfy clothes. Eddie starts walking to the door, having a slight limp with how sore he is. 

“I’m going to need your sweatshirt, I don’t want them to see…” Eddie turns to face Richie, giving him puppy-dog eyes. 

“Of course,” Richie smiles as he grabs Eddie’s favorite hoodie of his. Eddie grins, taking it happily and throwing it on, covering his hickeys almost perfectly. “Okay,” Richie kisses Eddie’s head again before they walk out the door and into the kitchen. 

The rest of the Losers are in the kitchen, conversing until they see the two walk in, the chatter ceasing. They notice that Eddie is wearing Richie’s sweatshirt and limping, but they decide not to comment on it. They all know Richie and Eddie are together, but don’t pressure them to talk about it, they want the two to tell them on their own terms. The other’s greet the two, grab plates and start dishing up breakfast. That’s when Stan pulls Richie aside into another room, smacking him hard upside the head. 

“What the fuck, Stan?!” Richie raises his voice, rubbing the back of his head. 

“I could not sleep all night because of you two!” Stan groans. “All I heard was Eddie moaning and the headboard banging against the wall,” Stan rubs his temples in mere disappointment. “Look, I won’t say anything to anyone. Just, for the love of-” Stan cuts himself off. “Just please, follow the rules at least sometimes?” Richie laughs at Stan’s request and heads back out into the kitchen, joining everyone else again as they enjoy the rest of their time at the cabin.