#dari eats

[darieats]

#mochi #cake #mango #sando #korean dessert #dessert #strawberry #dari eats

[dvriaxe]

jesper's nearly whisper, tears in his eyes, and immediate fear when wylan was quiet

wylan trying to hide his smile, and that look on his face when jes misunderstood his silence

like "😧wait wait wait it's not what meant"

#this scene broke me #*eats table* #six of crows #shadow and bone #dari watches stuff #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #wesper

[trollbreak]

Realizes beastly would Adore dari. He’d even stop murdering her when she asks him not to. He may be a serial cannibal but he’s not rude! And um. I think it would be funny if they just ended up as weird friends.

#he asks sooooo polite if he can eat her after some months of tense friendship. she goes WHAT. he goes nonono you’d already be dead so you #wouldn’t even have to feel it I promise!!! you’re just very tasty :3 and she’s like WHAT DO YOU MEAN IM TASTY and he’s like 0-0 I mean most #people don’t come back and um. the meat’s gonna go *somewhere*. why not to someone who needs it:)? and dari’s like oh my god #local exiled ex-goddess has the worlds yummiest blood and can’t stop finding people who aren’t normal about it #beastly would Love the healing thing it gives too. and ofc ofc ofc the rainbow glowy we can’t forget that. AND that it’s multi flavored by #color!!! very silly and fun

[kira-does-art-sometimes]

Against the Sun We're the Enemy!

@whump-queen @whump-in-the-closet @shydragonrider @imnotamurdereripromise @eric-the-bmo

#my art #artists on tumblr #illustration #digital art #procreate #lineless #flat colors #my canva book cover era #traced pose #oc art #my ocs <2 #oc janessa #oc dari #they are not in love they are both aromantics #in a platonic marriage #also destroya by mcr is a love song okay. idk why but it's an incredibly aromantic love song #and for some reason I associate this with janessa and dari #that's not where the lyric in the art is from #that's from an eve song. how to eat life #it translate to something like “you're running out of time” btw #in romaji it's 'jikan ga nain da kimi ni wa' I think #janessa ends up killing and cannibalizing dari later. btw #I can explain why but not here #I tried to shade this art. I died and gave up

[aj-thegreatest]

Waiting to eat for Thanksgiving soo here’s what the Cordelia and Phoebe cast would do on Thanksgiving!

Cordelia: Goes over to Phoebe’s house since they host with Star, Jackie, and her grandparents (on Jackie’s side). Having a pretty good and boring time! Probably talking her grandpa. Fav foods are turkey and fish (don’t ask, her grandparents brought it)

Phoebe: Is decked out in fall colors and sweaters! Definitely a dorky Turkey one; is playing hostess and mingles with everyone (while trying to get them to interact). Takes the most pictures for memories. Fav foods are sweet potato pie and greens.

Apollo: Mainly stays in his room and avoids interacting. Occasionally comes out for food while avoiding Phoebe (who is trying to get him involved), then beelining to his room. Gets a text from his dad only. Fav foods are Mac and cheese, and ham.

Dari: Came with her moms, who only brought wine. Makes an effort to stir…something between the adults for fun. Definitely bothers Apollo the whole time, keeping him company. Can also be seen sneaking to the bathroom, talking to…someone. Fav foods are Red Velvet (or any dessert)

Em: Has Thanksgiving with her family (her mom Megan, her dad Jeff, and her siblings Mags and Fern). Most definitely helped out with cooking and managing her siblings. Overall has a good time with them, watches the Macy Day Parade and Thanksgiving specials with her sibs. Fav foods are yams and stuffing

#cordelia and phoebe #star vs the forces of evil #star vs foe #svtfoe #svtfoe fankid #cordelia #phoebe #apollo #dari #em #🐚 #💖 #🎹 #🔮 #👑 #quiet mumbles #also happy thanks giving I’m now eating lol

[heartshpedfx]

@bastardmanvibes 🥰 good luck on ur flight

#i think the meme you’re talking about is the one that’s like #our conversation would be legen- wait for it #dary #yum that feels so spicy and millennial to type out i feel like i’m dreaming of working at buzzfeed and marrying like #my graphic designer husband who’s really into magick the gathering and i’m the wifey at home #i have an english degree (which i hope to use to get into buzzfeed) BUT i’m utilizing my visual art minor #to draw stylized webcomics of me and my husband and our ~quirky~ relationship where i do yoga and then eat pizza and complain about missing #like #patches of hair when o shave my legs #i call him hubby #i rlly don’t know how these tags got away from me but these women i’m describing fr seem happy #when i was a maid i cleaned for So Many of them #and they fr were living the dream life #i’m being very liberal w the comic thing but in this scenario these comics constantly get reposted to reddit so they’re successful ish #most of the women i cleaned for just painted Ok watercolors and hung them in their overly elaborate gray and white dining rooms #anyway ik your trip will be fun. manifesting the least stress possible for you

[peipurr]

honestly, I don't support any war crimes —even if they are done by the side which I support. our religion has its own laws for war, the Prophet (PBUH) has taught them and we must obey them. revenge is no excuse, we shall leave it to Allah, for Allah is Al-Hakim, Al-'Adl.

#txt dari ro #my opinion #I know even I have my some exceptions but hopefully I won't eat my own words

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Not really a sexual request but… thoughts on Daryl coming home upset? Like genuinely hurting over something or anxious about something. Personally I think Daryl would have some level of anxiety that every now and then can get bad so maybe something happens with that? Idk I just love your writing and wanna see your take on sad Daryl🫶🏻

UGHH I’ve been CRAVING some sad Daryl for a while I have this idea of Daryl having a mental break where he isolates himself from everyone because he has no clue how to properly communicate his feelings so instead he decides to stay in his own space and silently drown to death alone in his own thoughts.

Normalize holding adult men like babies because obviously thats what they are

I feel like lately my writing has been kinda bad?? 🧍🏾‍♀️Maybe this is just too short idk but something is OFF.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had been two weeks since Daryl locked himself and your heart in the basement.

He needed some space, that much was obvious, but the worrying started the first week when Daryl didn’t touch the plates of food you or Carol would leave outside the door. He never left the room, never made a sound either. If it weren’t for the years of a living in an apocalypse, you would’ve thought he was dead.

Daryl felt dead, his bone weighing heavy with emotion and anger he just didn’t know how to get out. Years of bottling up everything now seeped through his grimy skin, mind running two miles a minute as his hands fisted his greasy matting hair.

He almost felt like a teenager again, rotting away feeling sorry for himself in bed while internal screaming at himself because lord knows he couldn’t do it vocally. He pushed everyone away, he needed to. Nobody needed to see him like this. Nobody needed to deal with him like this. Nobody needed to help him like this.

Daryl knew you and Carol left food outside his door, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat. Didn’t deserve to drink. He didn’t wanna open the door one day and see one of you standing there with a pitiful look on your face. He didn’t need pity.

He also didn’t need the jarring sound of pounding at said door. “Go ‘way” He mumbled, but instead the door creaked open, softly shutting. Maybe he should learn how to use a lock.

“Daryl” You voice was soft against his burning ears, however he felt a twinge of anger surge through him. “Get out. Don’t need anythin” He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and only glancing over at where you stood with your arms tightly folded. “It’s been weeks”

He knows. “So? Gonna be another weeks too, now leave” You stood firmly in place, not budging.

Daryl screamed at himself for trying to throw you out, you of all people. Only his internal monologue didn’t match the one coming out his mouth. “Dammit woman I told ya ta leave!”

You stared at him silently, taking a few steps towards him and not faltering when he stood up, merely inches from your face. “Don’ need ya in here feelin’ fuckin’ sorry makin’ me feel worse”

“Well if it makes you feel any shitter I feel sorry for you inside and outside the door” You shrugged up at him, looking at him with a more causal expression than anything. “Why are you pushing me away Dixon?” Daryl bared his teeth at the question, angry at himself cause he didn’t know why. “Why’re ya in here?”

“That’s not answering my question” You scoffed, and Daryl turned to frustrated kick the night stand. “I don’ hafta answer tha’ stupid fuckin’ question! Why can’ ya jus’ leave me tha’ fuck alone?” He began pacing around the room, trying to put distance between the two of you continued to stubbornly close it. “Because I give a shit? You don’t get to suffer in here alone because think you deseve it”

You shoved Daryl’s chest, and surprisingly he shoved back, tears burning hot in his eyes. “Why not?!”

Your face softened and you grabbed Daryl’s hands, holding them tightly in yours. “Fucking stop!” He tried pulling himself out your grip, shaking his head as more traitorous tears spilled. Daryl grunted as you pulled his arms towards you, causing him to stumble which gave you the opening to finally capture him in a tight hug. “Get offa me” He mumbled even as his body desperately melted against yours. “It’s okay sweetheart” You whispered the words and walked backwards, lying on the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“Ya shouldn’t- Ya shouldn’t see me like this” Daryl buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling an unfamiliar lump form in his throat. He no longer felt anger, but saddness. He was sad, so sad that he didn’t know what do to other then straying away. His chest hurt, and he felt so vulnerable in your arms that he just exploded, body shaking as sobs racked through him. “I’m here now babyboy, it’s okay” You, quite literally, tangled your fingers into his hair, soothingly scratching the scalp as Daryl’s tears ran down your skin and soaked your shirt.

It hurt so bad yet felt so good to finally, finally let it all out.

You moved to sit up against the wall, bringing Daryl along with you and positioning him to lay across against your shoulder, brushing hair out his red as he sniffled. You wiped his tears with your hand, staring down lovingly at him as you stroked his cheek. “Tell me what's hurting you” You whispered, listening to his soft whimpers and snotty sniffles. Daryl leaned his head against you, eyes flickering up to meet yours as he searched your face. He felt so grateful to have someone like you, caring about someone like him.

“Jus’ everythin” He whispered back.

You kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger there. “Anything in particular?”

Daryl shook his head, soaking up every ounce of attention you gave him. Each tear was wiped away by soft fingers, followed by a gentle kiss.

For the first time, Daryl felt like a little kid, huddled up sweetly in your arms as you ran your hands across his back, slowly rocking his frail frame.

He cried harder than he ever has, muffling sobs into to the fabric of your shirt. You only stroked his hair and told him that it was all okay.

And he believed you.

Daryl could physically feel the love radiating off you, seeping through his clothes and filing his weakened body.

It was so peaceful in the room beside from Daryl’s sniffing, he felt like you were the only people left on earth. As he glanced up at you through clumped lashes, he wished that you were.

“M’sorry” He mumbled.

You quirked a bow. “For what?”

“Fer pushin’ you”

“Away or earlier?” Daryl shook his head slightly.

“Both” He responded.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Ugh. I guess I forgive you”

Daryl cracked a small smile, one of his fidgety hands reaching for yours. His fingers were cold compared to yours.

“I love you” You whispered, squeezing his hand in yours.

He searched your face, eyes glassy as they once again filled up with tears. “I- I love ya too”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #norman fucking reedus #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion smut #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic

[the-dixon-effect]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: dear fic writers, consider this a public service announcement. DO NOT schedule a week of fic writing that coincides with a camping trip, it is hell!!!!

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: Y/N suffers from chronic pain in her feet, but hates to feel vulnerable around others so constantly overworks herself. perhaps a certain archer could be the right kind of medicine... | requested from this ask by @justalexheree :) guys i really did my research for this one so i hope you enjoy ^.^

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of chronic foot pain ig?? lil' time jump

It must be late by now, you thought. You were hesitant to look up to check the position of the sun for fear of getting distracted. You were crouched down, working out in the allotment around the front of the prison. The farm was a brilliant idea, you decided, despite the high amount of labour that was necessary to feed the residents of the prison-turned-camp. God knows you needed the food. Perhaps if the members of your community were aware of your condition, you wouldn't be forced to work out here all day, practically sweating your skin off in the Georgia sun. It didn't matter anyway, 'cause you couldn't let that happen.

So here you were, digging up soil and planting seeds 'til the sun disappeared behind the trees. It was somewhat enjoyable, you convinced yourself, of course you had your thoughts and daydreams to entertain yourself, and back in your old life you would have never found yourself spending so much time outdoors. Even so, a mundane office job might have arguably been a little better for your body. You constantly found yourself having to distract yourself from the persistent ache in your feet, maybe some company would do you good, you thought.

"Hey, we're all eatin' inside, ya can prolly finish up now," you heard the familiar voice of the crossbow-wielding man from several metres away. You knew you needed to stop, but there was still work to be done. If only there was enough food in the first place, then maybe you would let yourself resign to the dining area. Save it for those who needed it, you thought.

"Alright, I'll be inside in a second," That was a lie. It's not like the rest of the group would notice your absence, you figured. You better just stay out here a little longer, making sure the crops were tended to until it was dark. Then maybe you'd get some rest. For now, you didn't need to eat. Truthfully, your feet were killing you and it felt like you could keel over at any second. Get over yourself, you said, over and over in your mind, these people need feeding.

You remembered the look the archer gave you when he called you inside, observing how you were the only person left out in the field. You turned to check if he had left and, to your surprise, he was still stood watching, hands buried in his pockets as he looked straight ahead and met your eyes.

"C'mon," he shouted across the distance between the two of you. You couldn't really say no to him, except he left you wondering why he was so eager for you to join him. You put down your equipment and split from whatever idle job you had yourself occupied with. Something you did appreciate about the humble farmer's life was the reasonable tan you had acquired, which was on display in your little denim shorts as you jogged up to meet him. A part of you wished Daryl would notice.

"Ya' alrigh'? Yer limpin'," he asked, meanwhile you were contemplating on the fact that this might be the most words you'd ever heard the archer speak, to your face anyway. Your lack of association with the man didn't stop you from admiring from afar, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Been a long day."

"I bet," he replied, walking side-by-side with you up to the building entrance. You thought it was sweet how he paid attention to you and noticed something like that. Maybe one day you'd open up about your condition, when it felt right.

3 MONTHS LATER

You looked around the room, searching for Daryl's eyes. Today, more than ever, you needed to be with him. After months of breaking down his thick walls, it was safe to say that he'd become one of the most important people in your life. Your feet were hurting like hell today, and the only thing that would make you feel better right now was his presence.

He'd been out on a solo run, which you'd begged Rick to let you join him, ultimately to your disappointment. So you spent your day as you always did, out in the pasture, tending to the crops. After a while you headed back inside in hopes of finding Daryl, perched at one of the rusty tables, waiting for you. To your dismay, you couldn't find him anywhere.

You approached Rick with a worried look shaping your features, "Where's Daryl? Is he back yet?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Nah, he's not back yet," sensing your anxiety, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, "Y/N, he's gonna be fine. Anyway, he's scheduled to be back in... about an hour."

So you waited. And waited. It felt like the longest 60 minutes of your life, busying yourself in your cell by reading a book that Carol recommended, not absorbing a single word. By the time you decided that there was nothing else you could do to distract yourself, you headed downstairs and made idle chatter with one of the prison newcomers, Karen.

"I hear your boyfriend Daryl's coming back from a run today," she said.

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," you said with a slight giggle.

"Oh, right! Gosh, it's just that you two are so close, I just figured- you know what, nevermind, ignore me," she said with a chuckle.

You smiled and looked at the floor, and tried to silence your anxious thoughts about whether something might have happened to him, if he's hurt, or anything. At this, the double-doors swung open and in walked the man you'd been waiting for for the last 48 hours. You approached him, suppressing the relief and excitement you felt just from seeing him walk through those doors. His eyes lit up at your welcoming smile, and maybe, just maybe, he would be inclined to embrace you right here if the prison foyer wasn't so crowded.

For now, he had other things on his mind that he needed to clear with you. Just like you, he spent the last 48 hours worrying more about your safety than he did his own. He regretted not being able to stay with you, or at least bring you along with him. He was the only person who knew about your condition and how badly you were affected by it, which meant he felt an immense responsibility to take care of you and offer you acts of service. Not to mention, you were also the only person who Daryl felt totally comfortable around, comfortable enough to share some of his childhood trauma and emotion with. You liked to think the two of you had a special bond, but despite your healthy friendship, you couldn't help wanting more. Either way, all he wanted right now was to be with you and to not have to deal with anyone else in this damn place.

Maggie shot you a mischievous look from across the room as you tugged on the archer's sleeve. You rolled you eyes at her following Daryl up the steel staircase and entered his cell. You sat down next to him on the mattress and he copied you by rolling his head back against the cool brick wall. You sighed in contentment, still in somewhat pain in your feet.

"So, how'd it go?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Was fine. Are ya' alrigh'?" you noticed how he changed the subject, sensing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a little relentless, you know," you felt a little guilt for immediately beginning to talk about yourself, even when you knew you needed his comfort. His closeness was good enough for you.

"Mm, I know. Ya' gotta stop overworkin' yerself, ya know," he drawled. His pretty eyes were staring deeply at you now.

"Uh-huh. It's just, it's kind of relentless, you know. Like nothing I do makes it better. There's no distraction that works," it felt undeniably good to talk to someone about it, someone who understands. Someone who doesn't subject you to the same stereotypes or think that you're making it up. He wrapped an arm around you and you instinctively rested your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, like the outdoors, mixed with the distinct notes of Marlboro cigarettes and stormy weather. This was a pretty good distraction, you thought.

"Hey, I'll always make a run into some pharmacy to get ya yer meds, or anythin' like tha'," he spoke softly with his lips resting on the top of your head, occasionally brushing against your silky hair. "Jus' tell me what ya' need." It was this. You needed this.

“I just need you.”

#brandy writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd angst #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #twd imagine #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon

[nikethestatue]

Princess Tea Party

Summary: Single father Azriel Night and his son are invited to a Princess Tea Party where they meet single mother Elain Archeron and her daughter. Will sparks ignite between the two singletons or will their histories catch up with them and stop them in their tracks?

Elain Archeron Week 2023 'Dreamer' @elainarcheronweek

For Dragzilla and Orio, who were my light in the darkness

Chapter One

Azriel Night

“Dada…dad…dada…wake up! Wake up, dada! We have to go! Wake up!”

Azriel Night was already kind of awake, though he lay in bed with his eyes closed and pretended to be deep asleep. His son’s solid, but soft body bumped along his, and he listened to the laboured grunting that his son emitted, as he tried to climb onto the bed. Azriel did not assist him, because his baby boy wouldn’t want him to, but he opened his eye just a little, to watch the struggle. And the struggle was real. The short little legs couldn’t reach the edge of the bed, so the short little arms were grabbing at everything in sight, as his baby was attempting to pull himself up. Azriel moved his arm just a little, and his son grabbed on immediately, not recognising that dad threw him a lifeline. 

“You need help, big guy?” Azriel asked at last, to which he immediately received an unequivocal,

“No dad! I do it.”

“Okay…Your tongue is hanging out,” Azriel noted, trying to stifle his laughter.

The baby’s brow furrowed and he asked, “what?”

“Nothing, nothing. Come on, a little more,” he encouraged and somehow, as it always happened, the kid was able to finally climb on the bed. He was panting dramatically with exertion, though that didn’t stop him from immediately demanding, “dada, let’s go!”

“Where are we going to go, Dari?” Azriel asked, stroking the small round head, running his fingers through the silken curls. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“To party!” Darius nodded confidently. “We go today.”

“We will,” Azriel assured him, “but it’s a little early. The party is at 3 o’clock.”

Darius frowned and inquired, “when this be?”

“In a few hours. Meanwhile, do you want to have breakfast?”

“Yeah, I wanna eat,” the baby nodded. “All stuffs.”

Azriel smiled—all stuffs indeed. His barely 3-year-old son looked like he was pushing six. He was big, robust and yet, still full of baby rolls. His fatty arms looked like those of a Michelin Man, and the soft, pinkish cheeks puffed out in a way that absolutely required that they be pinched. 

“Dada what we do at party?” Darius asked, his gaze curious. As it stood right now, this would be his first party. 

“Have some treats,” Azriel explained. “Fun. Maybe music.”

“Baboons?”

“Don’t know about balloons, but maybe.”

Azriel would’ve wanted for his boy to have had other party experiences, but up until about 4 months ago, life’s been hectic.

He clicked a button on his phone and the shades on his floor-to-ceiling windows slowly rose, revealing a beautiful view of Denver’s Washington Park. Another cloudless day. That was one thing that Azriel loved about his new residence—300 days of sunshine. Blue skies. Cloudless mornings such as this just about every morning. 

He’d plunked down about half a million on this penthouse, snatching it right after the pandemic for a steal. Now the place appraised for 1.3 million. He couldn’t complain. It’s the least he could expect, considering that he had to move to Denver. From NYC. Denver. Provincial and unexciting Denver, full of bearded men, flannel, and entirely too many Subarus. But his only living and close relative made Denver his home, so he packed Darius and just…moved. Without looking back. Ripped off the band aid and started a new life. And he couldn’t complain, if he was being honest. Denver’s proven to be kind of nice. It was chill and green, and though unlike his brother Cassian, he wasn’t insanely enamoured with the mountains and the bicycling and skiing and snowboarding, he came to enjoy the slower lifestyle. 

They walked around Wash Park every evening, and Darius fed the ducks and chased birds like a savage. Ladies in running gear with calves of steel and 3% body fat gave Azriel and Darius curious and often very needy glances. But Azriel knew that he only looked good ‘on paper’. He might’ve been pretty good looking, tall and athletic, with sleeves of tattoos and the cutest, chonkiest kid in the world, but he was also a single father to just-barely a 3-year-old. No one really wanted a guy with a kid. Because Darius was always going to be his priority, and no woman could ever take precedence in his life over his son. And women needed and wanted attention. Which was fine. He was doing well without them. He was busy creating fun routines and experiences for his son. Their fancy building had three pools, a game room, a bocce court, a ton of grilling spaces, chefs who came to give cooking lessons, and a playground for the kids located on the 30th floor. Darius fucking ate it all up—he loved the pool, he loved all the games, he liked to watch the chefs, because they usually called him to the counter and asked him to ‘help’, which he did eagerly. The kid wasn’t exactly shy. And he adored attention and all the oohing and aahing that came from the audience. 

There was a coffee shop where the two of them went on weekends, and a couple of times a month, they had brunch with Cassian. They had their little Italian place where the pasta was handmade and the atmosphere was nice, and they dined there a few times a week. 

Azriel knew that Cass was happy with having him and Darius around now. It felt like they were a family again, and that was nice. And even though Azriel was unsure at first whether he’d made the right decision about moving here, he was beginning to realise that perhaps, it was actually for the best. 

A week ago Darius started preschool. He only went 3 times a week for 3 hours a day, but even that had Azriel spiralling. He’d never been apart from his boy, so he spent half an hour in the car, after he dropped his baby off, and actually fucking cried. He cried. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but Darius was Azriel’s entire life. His love. So watching his boy walk away just about broke him in half. Thankfully, a little girl skipped towards his son and started saying something animatedly, before taking him by the hand and tugging him along. And Azriel was grateful to the little girl, somehow trusting her to take care of his boy. So, Darius went off with a new friend, and Azriel went back to the car and cried. The second day was a tad easier, because his boy gave him the tightest, warmest hug before he ran inside and whispered ‘love too, dada’. Azriel only cried for 15 minutes afterwards. 

…They brushed their teeth and washed their faces together, side by side, and then Azriel brushed Darius’s thick, black curls until they shone. 

“We have to shave, dada,” Darius reminded him seriously, standing on his stool, somehow already wet up to his shoulders. 

“Yeah, we gotta look good for the party,” Azriel agreed, as he covered his face with shaving cream and then dabbed some on Darius’s chubby cheeks. His son fancied himself to be very old and mature, so he had a wooden ice cream stick, which Azriel told him was his ‘blade’, so he could ‘shave’ with it, which resulted in Darius smearing the shaving cream all over his face with the stick. 

“I shave good?” 

Azriel dragged his own razor over his cheek, wondering why he was even bothering, since it was the weekend, but whatever.

“You are an ace shaver, bud,” he said. “You’ve got the smoothest cheeks!”

“Uncle Cass have a beard,” Darius announced. Uncle Cass also had long hair and rocked the mountain man look so well, and he got laid multiple times a week. Azriel didn’t have a beard, nor as much game as his brother. His lack of any kind of love life was an endless source of pestering on behalf of Cassian, who constantly volunteered to babysit, so Azriel could get out and hit the clubs. Or bars. Or the gym. Or anything. The idea of it all made Azriel slightly nauseous. He was completely unmotivated to pull anything or anyone, and though he feared that his dick might actually wither and fall off from lack of use, it was not enough motivation to go and get laid by some random girl. He wasn’t boring. He just didn’t want to do it. He was a solitary man by nature, and while his 20s were pretty wild by all accounts, he had no desire to relive any of it.

“Maybe you’ll have a beard one day too.”

Darius nodded and added, ‘like Cass! I want it.’

Azriel dried his soaking wet baby, and then they walked down the corridor to the kitchen.

“What do you want to eat, bud?”

Darius climbed onto his highchair and proposed ‘cookies’, definitely testing the waters.

Azriel chuckled and told him ‘nice try’.

Darius frowned, and then propped his cheek on his hand and demanded, “what then, dada?”

“How about eggs? Or oatmeal?”

“Okay, I eated eggs,” he decided, while Azriel poured him some juice. Settled in, Darius—who, unlike his father, was rather talkative—asked, “so what we do at party, dada? It’s fun? Is Cass gonna come?”

Since Cassian was literally the only other person that Darius knew with any degree of familiarity, Cassian featured quite often in all his questions.

“We’ll see. I am not sure,” Azriel admitted honestly, as he cracked the eggs into a bowl, at which point, Darius demanded, “I do it, dada! Give it.”

Azriel handed him a whisk and the bowl, saying, “Do it carefully, without splattering. And no, Cass isn’t coming.”

“Why no?”

“Because he wasn’t invited. Only you were invited,”

“Oh yeah,” Darius smiled happily. “Only me.”

“And I don’t think that Cass would do good at a Princess Tea Party,” Azriel said thoughtfully.

A Princess Tea Party is in fact where they were invited.

Yesterday, when Azriel came to pick Darius from preschool, Darius ran to him all excited, his shirt askew, his hair messy, waving a piece of paper in his hand. He ran into Azriel’s arms, and gave him a long tight hug, almost suffocating him. Which was totally fine by Azriel.

“I miss you, dada!”

“I missed you too, my boy. Was the school good?”

“Yeah, I love. Here dada, you read it,” Darius handed the paper to him.

Azriel took a surprisingly nice quality paper and unfolded it. It was an invitation.

You Are Cordially Invited

To

Isabella Archeron’s Princess Tea Party

Dress in your prettiest attire and prepare to enjoy delicious pastries and yummy tea

“Who gave this to you?” Azriel asked, confused by the invitation. Why was Darius invited to a Princess Tea Party?

“Girl!”

“What girl?”

“She is friend,” Darius said confidently. “Isa. She nice. I love it.”

“You like her?” Azriel straightened his son’s shirt, and then took his hand.

“Yeah, she is so good. What this paper, dada?”

“She invited you to a party tomorrow.”

“Ohhhh!” Darius looked at him with a giant happy grin and yelled “we go, dada?!?! We go to party?! I want it so!”

“You’ve never been to a party,” Azriel reminded him reasonably. Darius skipped by his side nodding in agreement, while saying, “but I wanna go.”

“To a Princess Tea party?” Azriel confirmed.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Alright. I suppose we can go. It will be mostly girls, you know,” he warned him.

Darius shrugged and said, “okay. I like girls.”

Darius was too young to have friends, and up until they moved to Denver, there wasn’t even much family to speak of. Now, at last, he had an uncle that he adored, and he was going to school where he was meeting other children and forming some kind of relationships with them. But he also had no prejudices and Azriel would’ve liked to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Elain Archeron

The doorbell rang once, almost immediately followed by a firm knock.

Elain Archeron hurried to the door, with her daughter Isabella skipping excitedly behind her. The rest of the girls were already in the den, giggling and putting on plastic tiaras and costume jewellery. 

“Ma, who is it? It’s Dari?” Isa asked, rocking on her feet, her already huge eyes lighting up with happiness.

“I don’t know, let’s see,” Elain smiled and opened the door.

She gasped and immediately stepped back. A veritable giant stood on her porch—a man so tall, he blocked out the sun. He was dressed in all black—black jeans, expensive by the look of them, stylish black boots, a thin black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and showcasing powerful forearms covered in tattoos and extensive scars. Besides this whole ‘sexy/dangerous/brooding/hot’ package that he was presenting from the very get-go, the man was…breathtakingly beautiful. 

Elain stared dumbly at him. 

Who was this? And why was he here? And she had six girls in the house. And ohmagod what was she even wearing? And why was she worrying about that? And how was her hair? And was there a smear of icing or powdered sugar on her face? Who was he? Why was he so handsome? He looked like a cross between an Armani model and someone from the set of Sons of Anarchy. Tattoos? She didn’t even like tattoos! Why was she looking at a tattooed man?! Why did his tattoos extend to his neck and why did she want to see them when he was without his black t-shirt? And how can a t-shirt stretch like this over a man’s shoulders anyway? And for the love of god, why was there a Maybach parked in her driveway?!!?

Yes, that was a thing too now. A Maybach in front of her modest craftsman. It looked about as inconspicuous as a peacock in a chicken coop. 

“Azriel,” the man said, his voice sexual and quiet.

“Yes.”

Yep, that’s what she went with. Yes. And then, she blurted out, 

“I am not Azriel.”

“I would’ve guessed,” he smiled an amused smile that was breathtaking in its beauty. 

Elain was literally hyperventilating. 

The man’s gorgeous amber eyes regarded her slowly and thoroughly. Very, very thoroughly. He studied every inch of her, taking everything in, calculating and chronicling something in his mind as he looked her over. 

What was she wearing?!?! She absolutely could not recall and couldn’t look down to check, because that would just be weird.

“I am Azriel,” he clarified.

“Okay.”

“Are you,” he paused for a second, “Isabella’s mother?”

Elain finally managed to snap out of her stupor and nodded, “I am. Can I help you?”

“We are here for the Princess Tea Party,” he explained, and it sounded as absurd as it looked. Elain attempted to translate what he was saying inside her head.

“Dari!” he called out. “Come here…Oh my god, why did you rip that poor flower?”

The next moment, a most comical looking kid bounded over. He was…big. He was probably half a head taller than Isa, though he looked like a big baby. He was portly in a baby sort of way and had puffy, soft cheeks and a gently rounded body. He was also…beautiful. Lovely colouring, huge dark eyes with thick, long lashes, and perfectly arranged features. Basically, he looked like Azriel. Unlike Azriel, he also looked like an escapee from the set of Peaky Blinders. He was sporting a white shirt, wore a bow tie (no less!), Burberry pants with suspenders, and a chequered flat cap. He was a tiny little English stud muffin from the 1920s. In one hand, he held a flower, which he clearly ripped out of Elain’s flower bed. In another, he held a paper bag from Whole Foods.

The moment was interrupted by Isabella, who yelled ‘Dari! You came to my party!’

It finally dawned on Elain and she gasped, “oh my god. I am so sorry. You are Dari?” she squatted in front of the boy and stroked his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I Daris,” he announced and then handed Isabella the flower, while she rushed to give him a hug. 

“Dari thank you!” she chirped, taking the flower, which still had the roots attached and was sprinkling soil on the floor. 

“This for you, lady,” he then handed the Whole Foods bag to Elain and Isa dragged him by the hand to the den.

Which left Elain in an enviable and highly nerve-racking position of facing the ridiculously handsome Azriel.

“His name is Darius, by the way,” Azriel chuckled. “We are still working on it…him remembering what his name is.”

Elain snorted a laugh, and then choked back a mortified huff. Azriel smiled. He still hadn’t crossed the threshold and she scrambled to invite him in.

“Please. Forgive my manners.”

“We weren’t sure what the proper attire was for a Princess Tea Party, so,” Azriel explained, as he finally stepped inside the house.

“He is the most stylish baby I’ve ever seen,” Elain laughed. “I mean, he is wearing suspenders and a bow tie!”

“Please, if you hold your sanity dear, don’t call him a baby!” Azriel warned with mock horror. “He tells me multiple times a day that he is ‘very big’,” he made air quotes with his fingers. 

“May I then say that he is seriously adorable and maybe the handsomest very big boy I’ve ever seen. Suppose he takes after his father,” at that, she laughed nervously, silently berating herself for her stupid big mouth. It’s been five minutes and she is already calling this man ‘handsome’. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like a complete freak in his company?

Azriel politely ignored her words and dutifully followed her inside the house, taking in her nicely updated craftsman. The kitchen was open to the living room, and from there, they could see the den, where six girls and one boy were currently squealing, laughing and giggling. 

She sat the bag that Darius gave her on the counter, and turned only to see Azriel propping himself against the refrigerator, arms crossed on his wide chest, a smile on his full, beautiful lips.

God his lips looked delicious. 

And what the hell was wrong with her? 

She couldn’t stop herself, before her eyes slid to his hands. Covered in scars, and absolutely massive, she couldn’t help but wonder what his touch would feel like, what the texture of his skin was like. Oh yeah, and no ring.

“I don’t mind calling you ‘Isa’s mom’ if you’d like me to,” he said with a smirk, “but I would like a name to go with the beautiful face.”

Elain stopped abruptly, actually freezing in place at his words. He thought that she was beautiful? He just…said it? He just told her that she was beautiful?

“Elain,” she whispered at last. “Without an E.”

He frowned and clarified, “so Lain?”

“No. Elain, no E at the end.”

“Ahhh, sorry. Nice to meet you, Elain without an E.”

She laughed nervously. 

He ate up so much space, her whole house seemed smaller. He was like a demonic presence, only the handsomest and the tallest demonic presence ever. She simply could not stop looking at him. It was physically impossible to avert her eyes. So she forced herself to at least open the bag,

“We weren’t sure what to bring,” he told her, “so we settled on bakery cookies.”

“Oh god, I love bakery cookies,” she moaned. How did he know?! Bakery cookies were her favourite treat. The one thing she always craved and went back for. One of a few things that reminded her of her childhood. The happier days of her childhood.

“Oh, well, then you and Darius can bond over your love for bakery cookies. I didn’t mean to buy so much, but then he had some strong opinions on the subject, so here we are…” he opened his hands apologetically.

Elain laughed.

“Darius has great taste, I’ll give him that. But you shouldn’t have…”

“No, we really should’ve,” Azriel insisted. “Your house is very nice. Homey.” He looked around, and Elain blushed softly. She took great pride in her home, in how she decorated it, in its elegance and it pleased her that he saw it too, even if he probably was just trying to be nice. “We don’t have many friends,” he continued, “we recently moved here, so this is…well, this is the first Denver outing we’ve come to,”

Swallowing hard, Elain decided that minute that she needed to rip off the band aid.

“You and…your wife?” he asked, not looking at him and trying to act nonchalant, as she began arranging the cookies on the platter.

Meanwhile, in the den, the party was in full swing, with all toddlers apparently dancing to ‘Dancing in the Dark’.

Azriel chuckled and commented, “this is quite the eclectic playlist,”

Elain smiled, noticing that he’d avoided the question.

“Springsteen…and ABBA before that. And was it Prince that was playing when we came in?”

“Isa made the playlist. She is an old soul.”

“A beautiful soul,” Azriel said. “She was the one who took Darius under her wing on his first day at school. It…meant a lot to me,” his voice dropped and when Elain glanced at him, she saw vulnerability in his expression. A softness that she didn’t see before.

Smiling, Elain began arranging tiny pasties on a tri-level platter. “Can I confess something?”

“Sure,” he approached the counter and said, “and while you are laying it all out for me, why don’t I help you? All the other moms bailed I am guessing?”

“Oh yeah,” Elain seemingly just realised that the kids were dropped off with her, and the moms indeed all bailed. “I guess they did…You can help by arranging the sandwiches.”

She placed a tray of perfectly neat finger sandwiches in front of him. Azriel washed his hands and then set to work.

“I thought Dari was a girl,” Elain giggled. “I am sorry.”

He chuckled. “It’s alright. I figured. Not often boys get invited to a Princess Tea Party.”

“Isa didn’t tell me,” she glanced at the children, and added, “but it seems like they are getting on very well.”

Darius and Isa were holding hands and dancing together. The other girls were dancing around them, all decked out in fake jewels and tiaras.

“Yeah, he is not allergic to attention or anything,” Azriel agreed with a shake of his head, as he smirked to himself.

“Oh, I should’ve asked if there is something Darius doesn’t like,” Elain worried. “Is he allergic to anything?”

“Does he look like he doesn’t like something?” Azriel raised a brow at her and she snorted a laugh. “He eats everything. But only normal, grown-up food. None of that chicken nugget shit or fries. I like for him not to develop any bad habits,”

“I am the same with Isa! We’ve never been to a fast-food restaurant!” Elain exclaimed, surprised that they seemed to share the same philosophy about their children.

“Does this look okay?” Azriel asked, pointing at the neat row of sandwiches.

It was surprisingly easy being with him. Despite his intimidating gorgeousness, Elain didn’t feel any tension, other than her own instant and debilitating attraction to him. But she figured that he was used to attention—99.9% of world’s female population were probably attracted to him. Yet he was capable, fast, and absolutely adept at being in the kitchen. Efficient. Also, he smelled so enticingly, she needed to hold herself back and not try to sniff him and appear like she’d completely lost her mind. But she did. She’d never been attracted to anyone like this. It was instant and so powerful that it actually concerned her. It surely wasn’t healthy that she fought the urge to run her hands over his strong forearms, or that she wanted to press her lips to his beautiful neck. Or rub her cheek against his. Or do other things which she didn’t dare think about now.

He was the type of aggressively masculine handsome male, with an aura of danger and rebellion about him that most women dreamt of. When they were married to their quiet, slightly paunchy, slightly balding account manager or operations supervisor husbands, they dreamt that a man like Azriel would suddenly appear, fall madly in love with them and sweep them off their feet. So it was surreal to watch him arrange finger sandwiches in her kitchen.

“Perfect! There is iced tea in the fridge, if you can get it,” she requested. “And fill the teapot.”

“This really is a perfect little tea party,” he complimented her, as he followed her orders.

Everything was finally ready, and Elain set all the platters and the teapot, a bowl with cubed sugar, another with jam and clotted cream for the scones, on a large tray and Azriel stepped forward and said, ‘allow me’. For that, she was grateful, because the tray was heavy and laden with food, and she whispered ‘thank you’ as Azriel picked the whole thing up easily. 

“The tea is served!” she announced, “take your seats!”

The seven hyper toddlers gathered around the low coffee table and squeaked with excitement when Azriel arrived with the treats. He and Elain placed everything on the table, and then poured everyone their tea. 

Darius was bouncing in his seat, clapping his chubby hands together, his tongue hanging out like usual when he was excited. 

“Hey big guy,” Azriel bent and kissed his son’s head. “Are you having a good time?”

“Dada! I love it so much,” Darius roared with sheer ecstatic delight. “This party is so good!”

“You treating the girls nicely? You are being a gentleman?”

Nodding his consent aggressively, Darius said, “I be nice and good. I like dance and it’s fun.”

Meanwhile, Elain was instructing in the correct way of partaking in the tea, and everyone listened with rapt attention.

“Sandwiches first. Scones next,” she said. “There is jam and cream, if you’d like. Finally, pastries and cookies. Everyone behave like proper ladies and a gentleman, alright?”

Darius immediately reached for the scone, but Azriel stooped next to him and wrapped his arm around his son’s body and whispered quietly into his ear, ‘Dari, remember how Elain said to start with the sandwiches? You should do that,”

“Dada, I don’t want sandwich!” Darius pouted. “I want cake.” He mistook the scone for cake, and already held a spoon heaping with clotted cream. He was clearly liking being independent and making his own decisions. 

“I think you should start with the yummy sandwiches,” Azriel proposed. “There is delicious chicken salad in this one, and egg salad in this…and I think it would make Elain very happy if you tried them first,”

Darius looked up at Elain, who was watching his dad closely, and nodded, “oh, okay. Lain, you want me to eat sandwich?”

She smiled and nodded, “I would love for you to try my sandwiches, Dari.”

“Okay, I eat it then.”

Azriel took one of the linen napkins and tied it around Darius’s neck.

“Dada, I don’t want bip! Why I have to have it?!” his son protested and Elain couldn’t help but smile at his indignation.

Azriel immediately said, “oh, it’s not a bib, Dar. It’s a napkin—it’s a must for High Tea!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Elain helped out and stated, “Absolutely. You ought to wear a napkin for tea.”

That seemed to placate him, and he left the napkin in place.

Azriel mouthed ‘thank you’ to her and she gave him a nod of understanding. 

The way Azriel was with his baby boy was incredible. It’s not just Elain watching an attractive man with a baby that was making her ovaries explode. It’s how Azriel made Darius feel—heard. Azriel didn’t order. He wasn’t impatient or annoyed. He was kind and loving and Elain was awed by their relationship. In just about one sentence, Azriel could convince Darius of what he wanted him to do without any pressure or anger, and Darius was pretty happy to do it.

What Elain didn’t expect was what happened next. Azriel kissed the top of Darius’s head, leaving the kids to their own devices, straightened, and suddenly, extended his hand to Elain. She just stood there, not sure of what she was supposed to do, but then he stepped towards her and took her by the hand, tugging her gently alongside him. Elain followed. 

His hand was massive. It was rough with scars, the palm easily covering the entirety of her hand, the fingers long and strong. 

“I know the other parents dumped the kids on you,” he said, his voice low, as they returned to the kitchen. “And fucked right out of here,”

At that Elain laughed. Azriel cursing was kind of…funny. 

“But,” he moistened his lips, as if he was nervous for some reason. “Do you mind if I stay here? For the duration?”

He looked almost unsure of himself, which was in great contrast to how he generally came off. 

Elain didn’t even know how to answer. She wanted to shout ‘yes, OF COURSE YOU CAN STAY!!!’ but she settled for a more reasonable, “of course.”

He pursed his lips for a moment and then sat down on the bar stool by the counter, and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“I…” he sighed. “I feel like I should explain,”

“No, you don’t have to.”

But he proceeded to tell her, “I’ve never been apart from Darius.”

Elain blinked and exhaled a soft ‘oh’.

He continued, “To answer your earlier question, no, I don’t have a wife and he doesn’t have a mother. It’s just me and him. Always been. Therefore, I am the definition of what you would call a ‘helicopter father’. I’ve never been without him since he was born, and I can’t…” he swallowed. Hard. His voice was dry. “Darius is my life. I had a nervous breakdown earlier this week, when I sent him to school. I sat in the car for the three hours that he was there, because I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I don’t know why I am telling you this. You probably think that I am mental,”

“No,” Elain said firmly, reaching for him and placing her hand on his. “No. I don’t think that at all. And I am not just saying that either to placate you.”

He glanced at her, his gorgeous hazel-amber eyes shining with an untold emotion. But it was his hand beneath her that made her own breath quicken. He lightly drew his thumb back and forth over hers, touching her lightly. 

Now it was her turn to swallow.

But she managed to say, “Love is complicated. People don’t seem to understand how complicated parental love is sometimes. Especially when you don’t have anyone else to share it with and it’s all on you. To be the sole provider of all the love and support and kindness to your child,”

“I guess there is no Mr. Elain Without an E at the End then,” Azriel huffed under his breath.

The comment made her blush, but she nodded curtly.

“There isn’t.”

He exhaled what could be described as a relieved sigh.

“You are pleased?” She challenged him.

He hummed to himself and said at last, “it’s not that I am pleased, per se. But I don’t hate the idea of you being single.”

Now breathless, Elain whispered, “why?”

There was a long pause. 

The silence was interrupted by the exclamations, giggles and conversations taking place in the den. Sinatra was singing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’. The house smelled of pasty and lemons.

“Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said at last, his eyes boring into hers. There was no pretence in his expression. No falseness. 

“We’ve just met,” she mumbled, her heart beating so hard, she was sure that he could probably see it. “You can’t say such things to me.”

“Why not?” his gargantuan hand migrated from underneath hers on top of her palm, and he lightly stroked her pulse, and then her wrist with his fingers. “You are. Exceptionally beautiful. You aren’t what I expected to meet when I came here for the Princess Tea Party. Your lovely, kind daughter isn’t what I expected either. You are both kind and welcoming and funny. 

“I’ve wasted a lot of fucking time, Elain. So much time spent on the wrong relationships, on women who didn’t deserve my attention, on people and things that brought me nothing in return, but took up a lot of space in my head and sucked out a lot of my energy. 

“And then I got Darius and I realised that life’s too short for half-truths and waiting. So I am direct. You might not like that and I get it. But I am what I am. And if I think that you are beautiful, then you are.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say. She was considered beautiful, it wasn’t exactly news, but she hasn’t been called that before. Not to her face, not by a man such as Azriel. Older people waxed poetic about her ‘pre-Raphaelite’ features. Her golden hair. Her expressive eyes. Her strawberry-and-cream complexion. However, modern men didn’t appreciate the delicacy of her features. They wanted the overly-done, spackled Instagram ‘influencers’. And Elain wasn’t that. Though she was an Instagram influencer.

“And you being single,” he continued, “opens up a world of possibilities for me.”

“What sort of possibilities?” she murmured, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he for real? Did he really find her…attractive? Desirable? It wasn't impossible, but it was so bizarre that she couldn’t really wrap her mind around the fact. Simply because Elain was never desired by anyone before.

He drummed his fingers on the counter and searched for some truth in her face, for something that only he was privy to. Naturally he avoided her question, like he did the marriage question before and she had a feeling that he’d answer it in due time.

“Do you want to eat?” he asked suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“Eat. Do you want to eat something? While our kids are gorging themselves on pastries, do you want to eat something more grownup? I can make us something,” he offered.

This was the most confusing man Elain’s ever met. He got up and went to the refrigerator, acting like he’s been here a million times before.

“What do you feel like?” he asked without looking at her. Then he turned around and said, “let me guess…” he seized her up, while she crossed her arms on her chest and stared down at him. 

“I think…” he tsked, still considering something in his head, “I think you look like a girl who’d like a nice big salad with everything.”

Elain’s mouth popped open into a surprised ‘O’.

“How,” she began saying, but he cut in,

“How did I know that you’d like a nice salad? I have a gift, lovely Elain. I see things. Things that others miss,”

“What do you do?” she demanded, now worried that he was some unsavoury character who was trying to fleece her for information, though it was preposterous. He was driving a Maybach! What did she have that he could possibly want or need?

Meanwhile, Azriel began pulling out lettuces, herbs, a red pepper, jalapenos, scallions and olives from the fridge. 

“I mean, are you going to tell me that I am wrong?” he teased, as he piled the greens on the counter, “you have four varieties of lettuce, you have a daikon radish, you have two…no, three bags of various kale, what the hell is that? Spirulina?! Who has spirulina powder?!”

“I have spirulina!” she almost shouted, but he was laughing.

“Oh, chill, beautiful, I love the variety!” He then grabbed tomatoes, a jar of hearts of palm, and a bag of shelled edamame from the freezer, as well as a bunch of radishes. “I mean daikon? Seriously?!”

“I love daikon!” she exclaimed.

“Clearly…”

Still pouting at his humorous critique, she nevertheless got up and went to the walk-in pantry, before returning a minute later with a large platter.

And all the while, she’s been thinking about how he called her ‘beautiful’. Like it was the most natural thing for him to say. Like he actually thought that and meant it.

“Do you always come to strangers’ homes and start cooking for them?” she inquired tartly, though she definitely didn’t mind watching him take his hoodie off and expose his monstrously gorgeous physique to her in his form-fitting black t-shirt.

“No,” he said simply, as he lined a cucumber on the cutting board and diced it like a professional chef–fast, with precise, perfect movements, which produced perfectly uniform cubes of cucumber. “But then you aren’t a stranger. And I don’t want to be a stranger to you.” He looked up from the cutting board and his luminous eyes bored into hers. “And I think it’s quite normal for a man to want to feed his woman,”

His woman?!?!

Internally screaming, Elain was now panting like a golden retriever. She had no words. Just emotions. 

His woman.

His. Woman.

What?

How did she become his woman?

Oh, and the bastard knew that he was completely throwing her, judging by his indecently sexy smirk, as he began on the radishes, but he played it so cool…just so cool, and continued as if he didn’t just say something totally outrageous.

“You know, we’ve been killing mammoths back in the day,”

“Of course, and you remember, huh?” she finally managed to ask.

“I remember that it’s my pleasure and honour to provide you with a little sustenance. Why the veg though?” Now he was curious.

Elain, discombobulated emotionally and psychologically, needed a moment to gather herself and her thoughts. He was giving her the biggest whiplash of her life.

He went from stroking her hand, to calling her ‘beautiful’ as an endearment, to telling her she was his woman, to now raiding her fridge and making them a salad all in a span of less than 20 minutes.

This was more excitement than she’d experienced in the past 3 years!

She looked down, her hands cupped on her lap. She finally recalled what she was wearing–a pretty white boho dress with some white embroidery and a generously revealing neckline. Okay, she didn’t know that he would storm into her life and turn it upside down when she was dressing for the tea party. But it also didn’t escape her entirely that he admired her dress and perhaps some other things more than once.

“I was an overweight child–which in my mother’s eyes was the greatest sin imaginable–while my two sisters were willow thin. Up until I was about fifteen, my relationship with food was messy, mostly because of the fat shaming that my mother subjected me to,” 

Azriel did not pause his slicing and dicing, but his brow was deeply furrowed with a grim expression. He didn’t comment though. And Elain didn't know why she was telling him these personal, painful things. 

“Anyway,” she shrugged it off, and concluded, “I decided that I wanted to change my attitude towards food. I no longer wanted to punish or reward myself with it. I simply wanted to eat and be healthy. And I discovered that I loved vegetables. Changing how I ate, how I thought, how I viewed myself gave me a new outlook on life–vegetables, fruits, sunshine, walks, gardening–it gave me energy, strength, and a better attitude.

“And when I had my daughter, I swore that I’d instil her with confidence and a much brighter and healthier relationship with food.”

Azriel dumped the first batch of sliced and chopped veggies into the bowl, and began on the rest of the ingredients. The salad was already looking mouthwatering.

“The veggies paid off,” he said at last, looking at her. “You are stunning.”

At that, Elain gasped and he smiled at her.

“Please don’t bother protesting,” he ordered. 

She slapped her hands on the counter, and then announced sternly, “Okay, I can’t take anymore compliments!”

Azriel barked a loud and amused laugh.

“You’ve reached your compliments quota, beautiful?”

“Tell me about Darius,” she demanded, ignoring the ‘beautiful’ quip.

“Darius? What do you want to know? He is not exactly very complicated,” Azriel chuckled.

Elain insisted though. “No. I want to know about you and Darius. What happened to his mother? Where is she? Tell me.”

Azriel hummed and Elain wondered if she’d pushed him too far. She really had no right to ask him personal questions. He’d asked her about vegetables and she then suddenly developed verbal and emotional diarrhoea. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. But she didn’t have to ask him about his kid.

“Where she is,” he suddenly answered, “I have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, remembering something and then said,

“Honestly, when I said that Darius is my son, I meant it. He is mine. He is my baby, my friend, my son. It’s me and him. There is no mother,”

“Oh, was he born via a surrogate?” it dawned on Elain that that might have been the case, but Azriel shook his head and huffed a bitter sort of snort.

“No. Not at all. His mother is a famous model–now more known with her erratic behaviour and alcohol binges than her career–but when I knew her, she was in her prime. We had a very, and I mean, very fleeting relationship,”

He began salting the salad, squeezing lemon all over, swishing a healthy helping of olive oil on top and then began tossing it with two spoons.

“I don’t know…I hardly even remember hooking up with her,” he admitted and that made Elain squirm in her seat a bit. Azriel talking so openly about his sex life was unsettling. It also made something pinch inside her chest. Something unpleasant and sharp.

Jealousy.

She had no right to be jealous, and it was an irrational feeling towards a man she just met, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I dunno,” he leaned on his elbows and propped his cheek, thinking. “Like I said, there isn’t much to say. One day–it was Wednesday, I remember that very well–my doorbell rang. I went to open it, and there she stood, with a tiny bundle in her arms. It was late April, but fucking cold outside, and all I saw was this tiny bare foot that poked out of the blanket. And then a bare arm. And I was horrified that this kid wasn’t dressed for the weather.”

There was a touch of anger in his voice, but he pushed it down and then said,

“She literally handed me this bundle with a child in it and said that it was mine and he was three days old. She apparently came straight from the hospital? I am not sure why he wasn’t dressed better, but whatever. She told me that she couldn’t take care of ‘it’--she kept calling him ‘it’--and then she simply turned around and walked away. Oh, and she handed me his birth certificate. He was nameless too.

“That was a weird Wednesday,” he chuckled dryly.

Elain stared at him, horrified. This was the most insane story, considering that he and this mysterious model weren’t even in a relationship.

“And? Then what?” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth.

“And then what?” Azriel’s massive shoulders moved in another shrug, and then he straightened and expelled a heavy sight. “What do you think? Got a bit of a mental walloping. That’s some mindfuck, when someone suddenly hands you a baby! And says good luck. I didn’t even know the sex! I had no diapers, no formula, no clothes, no place for him to sleep–ah, I finally discovered that he was a he–no wipes, and oh, no freakin’ name! And I didn’t actually know that he was in fact mine. Plates?”

“What?”

“Where are the plates? It’s time to eat,”

She pointed to a cupboard, but also snapped, “you can’t just leave me hanging here! Tell me the rest of the story! Come on,”

He seemed entertained by her demands, and said, “well, if I tell you my story, you tell me yours too.”

“Fine! Not much to tell,” she muttered.

He looked at her, brow raised in a dare, and said, “you are absolutely telling me the story. And why someone like you isn’t taken. You legit have the perfect little house, with white trim and shutters, this perfect kitchen, perfect floors, and a white picket fence. Where is Mr. Perfect then? Not to mention that you have the most perfect beauty of a daughter!”

Elain smiled shyly and looked out to the den. From this angle, she could see Isa–her sweet, actually perfect little girl. Isa, with her pretty ringlets and her gorgeous soulful eyes, was someone who had the biggest heart and truly was one of the best people she knew. It wasn’t because Isa was her daughter–some kids were assholes and their age didn’t prevent them from being that. But Isa was curious and smart, giving and friendly. Even without asking, Elain knew that Isa took it upon herself to befriend little Darius, and made him feel welcome in their school. Darius seemed like someone who could stand up for himself–his size alone would probably intimidate any bratty kid–but he was also young and innocent, and truly was still more of a baby than a child. He didn’t even know how to speak properly yet. And Elain figured that Isa wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. 

“How did you get on with raising him?” she inquired at last.

Azriel meanwhile piled a good amount of salad onto a plate, and then speared his fork through it. Elain was a little surprised, and yes, miffed, that he didn’t give her any, but then she shouldn’t have expected him to serve her. He already cooked! That was enough.

Azriel stepped closer to her, but didn’t sit down, and towered over her, as he thrust the fork towards her mouth and whispered, “open up”.

Bewildered by the request, Elain just stared at him, completely confused.

“Come on,” he prompted her, pushing the salad against her slightly parted lips. She opened up and he pushed the salad inside, and smiled, watching her chew.

“What are you doing?” she asked at last, once she swallowed. This salad was freakin’ amazing! It was delicious. Perfectly dressed, with a delectable combination of textures and flavours. 

“Feeding you,” he said simply and then took a bite of the salad himself, from the same plate, not changing forks or anything. 

“Why?” she asked, feeling hot and bothered, and…sexual. Why was she so bothered by him? He was not the first man she’d ever come in contact with, but even despite his blatantly indescribable attractiveness this felt different somehow. It felt like a possibility. And Elain wasn't sure what to make of it. What exactly was she hoping for here? “I can feed myself, you know,” she added tersely.

“I am aware,” his tone was the same–calm and reasonable–”but I like the idea of feeding my woman.”

With that, he fed her another mouthful of salad, and she barely avoided choking on it. 

“Your woman?” she repeated, her cheeks heating, her hands trembling on her lap. “Since when exactly did I become your woman?”

“You haven’t yet,” he answered patiently. “But I am hoping that that’s where this is leading. For now, though, you will be my good girl and let me feed you. Now, open up,” 

The words ‘good girl’ scrambled Elain’s insides into an absolute frenzy–there was fluttering, squeezing, palpitations, achy feels between her legs, and all sorts of engorgements…in various parts of her body. And the bastard knew and saw it all, judging by the satisfied, salacious smirk on his disgustingly perfect lips.

This was either the worst or the best Princess Tea Party in history. Elain wasn’t sure which one it was. She also didn’t know what to do with this man. Was he everything that she’d ever dreamed of and hoped for? Probably. But now, faced with an actual man of her dreams, she was stumped. She wished that her sister Nesta was here to help out and try to figure this out, and what her next steps should be, but she was all alone facing this sublime beast of a male.

But, no…

Azriel leaned back on his forearms on the counter, eating lazily, and feeding her, though he still towered over her, even in this position. There was something dominating about his stance, but Elain didn’t find it in herself to care. He also didn’t seem to expect an answer from her–he simply fed them both, and then went back to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of Pinot Grigio and poured them both a glass. 

“Dada! Dada!” they heard the familiar call, and the next moment, Darius sprinted into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and jam, his black curls kind of wild atop of his round head.

He stopped and then extended his chunky hands, a small cake in each palm.

“Dada, I bringed cakes for you,” he explained. “And Lain too. You eat it,” he nudged them, and then dropped the cakes into their outstretched hands.

“Aww thanks big guy,” Azriel said softly, “you are the best boy.”

“Yeah,” Darius accepted the praise easily and didn’t argue. He was the best boy. 

He stood on his toes and tried to see what the adults were eating.

“What you eat, dada?” he demanded.

“Salad,” Azriel said, and then offered, “you want some?”

Darius made a face and shook his head no. 

“No, dada, no salad,” he frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“I figured,” Azriel chuckled and then fed some more to Elain. Darius observed them both, his head cocked to the side, watching. 

“Lain, you love salad?”

“I do. Your dada made a very very delicious salad for us,” Elain said, while Azriel stepped closer to her and she was just about overwhelmed by the scent of masculine pheromones in the air. He smelled of cedar, sharp and crisp, and there was something so attractive about the scent of his skin that she fought the urge to moan out loud. It absolutely didn’t help that Azriel’s finger lightly skimmed over the side of her neck. Leisurely and with strange familiarity, as if he’d done this a million times before with her. 

“Yeah, dada always make good stuffs,” Darius agreed, and Elain held herself together by a thin thread, trying not to alarm a toddler while she was mentally lusting over his father.

“How’s it going with you guys there?” Azriel asked.

“Is good!” Darius reported enthusiastically. “We eated all cakes and stuffs, I want milk and we gonna watch a movie.”

“Ahhh…got it. Can you ask Elain nicely for milk? And may I wash your face?”

“Oh, sorry Lain. Can I have milk please?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she got up and poured him a glass of milk, while Azriel grabbed him under his arm and dangled him over the sink.

“I flied!” Darius yelled, spreading his arms, while Azriel tried to stifle a laugh at his antics, and Elain filled her palm with water and began washing Darius’s sticky face. 

“Thank you,” Azriel whispered, while Darius attempted to thrust his arms under the faucet.

“Why are you so jacked up? No more sugar for you,” he warned his son. “Quiet time with the movie.”

“Yeah, I want movie,” Darius agreed. “Do plane, dada!”

Azriel sighed, while Elain laughed at the two of them and chased Darius’s face with a paper towel to wipe him clean and dry. Then Azriel lifted Darius with one arm all the way above his head, and Darius screeched loudly with excitement, as he flapped his arms.

All this commotion called the rest of the children to the kitchen, and Isa watched ‘the plane’ enviously, before saying, “I want this too!”

Azriel put Darius down and said, “Alright. I’ll give everyone a plane ride, while we get the movie going.”

“They can watch ‘Cinderella’ or ‘Snow White’,” Elain told him, while he lifted Isa high above his head and she yelled and hooted with delight screaming ‘mama, look at me!’ Everyone headed back to the den, and Elain watched Azriel with her daughter and it did something to her. Despite his size and his somewhat menacing appearance, Azriel was such a gentle man. He was incredibly thoughtful and good with children, and they seemed to trust him instantly. But there was something wild and untamed about him as well. Like he’d never been in the company of a female who domesticated him a bit. 

“Lain,” Darius tugged on her skirt, and she looked down, and stroked her fingers through his hair. “Do you want hug?” he offered. “I give good hug. Dada say and Cass too.”

She grinned and nodded, “Yes, Dari, I’d love a good hug from you.”

“Oh good!” he opened his arms and she squatted, and he immediately threw his fatty arms around her neck. She wrapped him in her embrace and sat down, with him straddling her. 

“Who is Cass?” she asked, gently rubbing his back, as he tucked into her body and pressed his face between her breasts.

“Cass is uncle,” he said, and then exhaled deeply, settling in for a hug. 

Elain rocked him slowly on her lap, enjoying his (substantial) weight and his solid sturdiness. He was so much denser than Isa, yet she loved that he was still a baby. Elain loved babies and once in her life imagined that she’d have a large family–four, maybe five, children–a husband who’d love her and whom she’d adore. But none of it happened. Nothing’s happened the way she planned. 

She pressed her cheek to Darius’s head and hugged him a little tighter. For some reason, her own failures made her sad. She was a lifegiver by nature–she loved children, baking, gardening, she loved watching things grow: flowers, plants, herbs and even bread. She loved to experience the mystery of creation, loved watching things blossom and grow and come to life. Even despite all the challenges, she loved her pregnancy, loved giving birth to Isabella and nurturing her every day of her life. 

“Dari, what does your dad do?” Elain asked.

Darius thought for a moment and then said, “Dada make pictures.”

‘He makes pictures?” she repeated, a little uncertain about what he meant. “Like an artist?”

“I dunno,” Darius admitted with a sigh.

“No,” they heard Azriel’s voice. “I am a photographer.”

Elain looked up, lifting her cheek from Darius’s head and saw Azriel standing in the doorway, his arms folded on his chest. But it was his gaze that jolted her. His eyes were hungry. Ravenous. Like he was looking at his next meal. Elain froze under that gaze: the way his hazel eyes devoured her. Devoured her with his son in her lap.

“Well, I stepped away for ten minutes and he certainly found a way to make himself very comfortable.”

Darius didn’t even turn his head, firmly attached to every curve of Elain’s body.

“He wanted to give me a hug,” Elain explained.

“I bet he did,” Azriel chuckled. “I’d like to give you a hug too…”

He winked at her and Elain blushed as usual, because she did that a lot with him. Seemed to her that the kind of hugs Azriel wanted from her involved a lot less clothing and a lot more…hugging. Though she couldn’t say that she hadn't imagined how those huge scarred hands would feel on her naked skin–about a dozen times now.

“You wanna give Lain hug, dada?”

“I would. Run and watch the movie with the girls, big guy. It just started.”

“But I wanna be with Lain,” Darius protested, pouting. Then he finally tore his head away from her chest and looked up at her, “Lain, you wanna be with me?”

She stroked his soft fluffy cheek and kissed his little hand,

“I do, Dari. I like you very much, sweet boy.”

“Yeah? I like too, Lain. You and Isa. I like a lot.”

Then he finally climbed off her lap and rushed back to the den.

Azriel watched him, and then his eyes transferred back to Elain. He rubbed his chin and drew his thumb over his lower lip.

“Forgive him. He has no experience with women at all.”

“I understand. And it’s no problem. I already adore him,” she admitted. “And I want to give him hugs and kisses. He is too cute.”

“He is cute,” Azriel agreed. “My heart. Life of my life.”

Azriel moved smoothly, walking to the electric kettle and turning it on. Then he took out a couple of tea cups and set them on the counter.

“I have a few questions,” he said, busying himself with tea. His voice was firm, with a touch of demand in it. “And I’d like for you to answer them truthfully.”

“O-kay,” Elain allowed, squeezing her laced fingers together. 

Azriel poured hot water over the loose tea leaves in a pretty English teapot and brought it to the counter. He sat down and stretched his long, muscular legs before him, relaxing into the back of the chair.

“Relax,” he told her.

“I haven’t been relaxed since you stepped into my house,” she blurted out.

“Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?” He looked serious, and a bit tense now. 

She shook her head, “no. Not uncomfortable.”

“What then?”

“Confused.”

He didn’t respond and then poured them both tea, once it steeped long enough.

“You know how to make tea,” she commented, sort of puzzled by that. How would a man like this know how to make a proper cup of tea?

“Lived in London for almost four years,” he explained. “Learned there.”

Well, that explained it.

“Why are you confused?” he pushed.

“You are confounding,” Elain sipped her tea, trying to find something to do with her hands and being grateful for the cup. 

“In what way?”

“Your manner…the way you seem to dominate the space around you. The way you are with me.”

“How am I with you?” he pressed, drumming his fingers slowly on the white quartz, his eyes never leaving her face.

“I am not sure. But unlike any man before. You are forward and challenging. But also thrilling. And I don’t know how to deal with you. I…I am not,” she sipped again, now burning her mouth, but terrified of admitting her truths to him. 

“You’ve been dealing with me very well up to now,” he argued.

“Yet inside, I am dazed and confused.”

Suddenly, he reached towards her and his enormous, warm, rough palm cupped her cheek. She stiffened in place, almost clutching at the edge of the counter, but she didn’t want to look too dramatic.

“You don’t need to be confused. But I like that you are dazed,” he murmured, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “God you are so fucking beautiful…” he gasped, as if disbeliving that fact. “I’d love to kiss you.”

She was feeling faint. Truly, if she was going to collapse now and faint like some 19th century damsel, she wouldn’t be surprised. 

Who said things like these?!?!

“I…what? No. No, you can’t.”

“Why?” he inquired, his brow furrowed. 

“I,” she felt like she was hyperventilating.

“Is there a man in the picture?” he asked then, his tone dry.

“No. No man.”

He smiled a quick, pleased smile.

“Then that’s good.”

Elain didn’t bother asking him about a woman in his life. It didn't seem like he had one. And his comment about Darius not being used to women only confirmed that. But, that wasn’t enough.

“What I am trying to say,” she whispered, while he still held her face in his palm, and his touch was gentle and warm, as he listened attentively, and in the background Gus the Mouse was singing a song, “is that I’m not experienced. Not at all,” she hurried, wishing to get this out. “I am…I don’t have experience with men. I am not experienced with sex. I don’t know how to do this,” she waved her hand between their bodies. “This fancy banter. This…You! I don’t know how to do you,”

“You can do me very easily,” he chuckled a husky, sexy chuckle. “I’d love for you to do me.”

“No, no!” she slapped his other hand in frustration. “You think I am kidding, but I am not! I am not kinky,”

“I didn’t say I was kinky,” he reminded her with that impossible smirk of his. “Why did you assume I was kinky? And what’s kinky, exactly?”

“That’s the thing!” she exclaimed in frustration. “I don’t know! I have Isa and my business, and that’s it. I don’t know the modern lingo. I don’t know what people are into. I am not into spanking and choking,”

“Seems like you do know what people are into,” he teased.

“I only know a little because I read books,”

“Naughty books, it seems like,”

But at last, he dropped his hand from her face, and she thought that he was annoyed with her, but he only covered her hands with his and squeezed lightly.

“Calm down and breathe.”

Elain realised that she was panting loudly, and she felt extremely hot. She was sweating beneath her dress, and her hands were shaking.

“Elain, please,” he said kindly. “Please…I am sorry if I’ve upset you. It’s not my intention at all. But you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,”

“I’ve only had sex once,” she shot out in one breath.

He had no visible reaction for a few seconds. Then, confusion. Then, he asked,

“You mean…wait…what do you mean? You,”

“Basically a virgin,” she admitted bitterly, hanging her head. 

They were both silent for a few moments, before she continued,

“I was a senior in university–twenty-one years old. Almost twenty-two. Never had a real boyfriend. Never even been kissed other than by Bobby Sands when we were nine. And don’t tell me that I am ‘pretty and how could that be’,” she warned him.

“But you are pretty and how could that be?” he said immediately and she smiled weakly at him. He was smiling back.

“Anyway, I went to a party and met this guy Graysen Nolan–I mean, I knew who he was–he was a football superstar. He was the quarterback for the Buffaloes and he was at the party and he was paying me attention. Like, a lot of attention. And he was laughing with me and joking, and telling stories and slipping me Margaritas,”

“Did he rape you?” Azriel’s tone was deadly, and Elain saw that moment in his expression that he was capable of some dark deeds.

“No,” she shook her head no. “I was willing. I mean, I don’t know–he wasn’t violent. He wasn’t mean. But I was drunk. I mean, I guess I consented. I am not sure…”

“So he took advantage of you at the very least.”

“Yes. And he also took my virginity. Which I don’t even remember happening, or feeling it. I don’t even know if he took it entirely, to be honest.  And he didn’t use a condom. And because I was a hopeless virgin, I wasn’t on any kind of birth control. And I guess I was too stupid to go to Walgreens the next day and get Plan B. Then three weeks later, I realised that my period was late. And late. And I was terrified, because things like these don’t happen, right? They don’t happen to good girls who are virgins. It couldn’t happen to me. I went and I got a pregnancy test and it was positive.”

“And you kept her,” Azriel said simply.

“I considered it. I really did. I considered getting an abortion and just chucking it off to a bad, drunk decision in college. But then I also always wanted to be a mother and as I thought about it, I was more and more petrified that somehow, I was given this option and if I didn’t take it, I might ever have it again. Looking back, it seems very juvenile…almost religious. And I am not religious at all. 

“I think deep down, I just wanted to have her. I don’t think I could ever actually go through with an abortion. 

“And as difficult as it’s been at times, I never regretted my decision. Never. I never thought what my life would have been without her…it just wasn’t an option any longer. And in some ways, some doors closed for me, but others opened. I became a caterer, and now I have a side business that does flowers as well, and I am doing…pretty good. Financially, I am more successful than I thought I would be. 

“I started with making cakes and cupcakes and children’s parties and birthdays and anniversaries and then I began expanding further, and I have a hugely successful Instagram account, with recipes and videos. And that led to paid sponsorships and advertisements. So I don’t know how, but somewhere along the way, I became successful. 

“But when I say that I am inexperienced, I mean it. I’ve only had sex once. And I got pregnant. And I’ve never been with a man since.”

He was back leaning in his chair, watching her, lightly licking his lower lip.

“So,” he said at last, “I have a question for you.”

Elain wiped her brow with her hand, feeling raw and exposed.

This was definitely the worst Princess Tea Party in history. Definitely.

“Yeah?” she breathed.

“Do you find me attractive?”

The question was not what she was expecting. Shocker. The least shocking thing about this was that he shocked her. 

“I…what? Why are you asking me this?” she demanded.

“It’s a simple question,” he said calmly. “Am I attractive to you?”

YES. 10000% yes.

“Everyone would find you attractive,” she said instead.

“That wasn’t the question,” he reminded her. 

He poured himself more wine from the open bottle and sipped it slowly.

“Because I find you very attractive. Beautiful, in fact. And I’d like to kiss you, at the very least,”

“No,” she gasped. “You can’t kiss me!”

He bobbed his head side to side, and then decided, 

“Okay. Well, if you won’t let me kiss you, then can you climb on my lap so I can finger you until you come. Because I really, really want to watch you come. 

“I think you’d come beautifully for me. And maybe then I can kiss you.”

The thundering shock that roiled the entirety of Elain’s body was unlike anything she'd experienced before. Because that could not be what she just heard. He could not have said these words. 

She murmured, absolutely floored, “you did not just say this to me.”

“Oh no, I definitely did,” he insisted, without taking his crazy eyes off of her.

That’s what it was. He must have been insane. There was no other explanation.

“I did say it,” he repeated with that maddening calmness of his. “Because from the moment I saw you, I wanted to watch you come for me. Usually I am not this forward,”

“I find that hard to believe!” she hissed hysterically, but he ignored her,

“But I feel like you are a little sad, probably tired, and doing your best. And you haven’t been loved, or admired for a long time. And you deserve it. So, climb on my lap, while they watch the cartoon, and I will make you come. 

“I am good at it,” he assured her needlessly.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she was trying to form a thought and failing miserably. “I am sure you are!”

“I am,” he confirmed. “If you prefer, I will gladly eat your pussy, which I am sure is as sweet as a strawberry…though for that, maybe we should go to the bathroom?”

Elain was shaking her head mutely.

She was lost. And her ability to speak was gone. As was her ability to think.

Who dared say such things to someone they just met?

“Well, Mr…I am sorry, I don’t know your last name,” she said, her voice trembling with tension and embarrassment. 

“Night,” he offered sweetly.

“Of course. Mr. Night. This has been a very entertaining day. I’ve enjoyed meeting you, I think. But no, I will not sit on your lap and allow you to do…all that,” she waved her hand, refusing to actually repeat his words.

“I apologise if I embarrassed you,” he said seriously. “It was not my intention.”

She pursed her lips and didn't say anything.

“Truly, Elain, I guess I am sorry.”

She huffed, “You guess?”

“I mean, I am not sorry at all, but I suppose it’s the right thing to say under the circumstances. I am supposed to be contrite,”

Elain threw her hands up in the air helplessly. 

“Why are you so weird?!” she cried out. “Do you just say the first thing that comes into your head and you have zero self-control?”

“I have plenty of self-control,” he argued. “I am not presently bending you over the counter and filling you with my dick. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much you want to.”

“I don’t want that!” she argued, but her voice came out kind of breathy.

“Okay. But you are lying. And maybe scared. But you definitely have given it some serious thought. I don't know much, but I do know when a woman wants me.”

He got up from the chair and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Here it is–I want you. Like, a lot. The way I haven’t wanted anyone probably ever. And if I am reading you right, and I think that I am, you want me too. But, now that I understand a little more about your background, I imagine that you’d prefer a relationship, as opposed to just a sweaty, hot, passionate fuck.”

Elain just blinked at him, while he continued,

“But I am not going to pressure you or go all crazy stalker on you.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t thank me yet. Darius and I go for a walk in Wash Park, around the pond, every night at around 5:15pm. I get him nice and tired out for dinner and then hopefully, it will be quiet time for the night. 

“Anyway, like I said, I am not going to pressure you into anything. But if you want to see me again–see us–then hopefully you and Isa will come and join us for a walk. And then we’ll go back to my place and I’ll cook dinner. And then, you can stay over. Or not.

“Like I said, I am not one to waste time.”

The movie was almost over, and Elain got up, straightening her dress. 

Azriel stayed behind in the kitchen, watching her from his spot. 

“Hey guys!” Elain greeted them. “Did you have so much fun?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Well, I have a little parting gift for all of you,” she took something out from a little bag and announced, “friendship bracelets! You seven are all friends now, so choose a bracelet that you want to give your new friend.”

Little Darius got really confused by the instructions, taking a bracelet for himself, which he did not want to give up, and then someone else wanted it, so there was a decent amount of fighting that descended into tears.

Elain caught Azriel’s amused grin, as he watched the commotion, while cleaning up in the kitchen. He wasn’t helping her calm the masses, but he was washing the dishes, which was just as good. 

At last, Isa gave Darius his bracelet and he was placated. Elain took his delightfully fat arm and wrapped the bracelet over the fold around his wrist. He was watching intently as she lined the clasps and closed the bracelet on his hand. 

“Dada!” came the familiar call, and Darius took off, waving his arm around. “Dada! Look at! You love it? Isa give it to me.”

“This is a great friendship bracelet.” Azriel approved. “Who did you give yours to?”

“Tay!” 

“Did she like it?”

“Yeah,” Darius nodded, twisting his hand and admiring his bracelet. “Now I have many friends.”

Moms started coming over right about then, to pick up their daughters. They all, without fail, gave Azriel curious, somewhat frightened, but very intrigued looks. 

Meanwhile, Darius began cleaning up after the party, gathering all the spoons and forks, and bringing them to the kitchen without being prompted. Isabella followed suit, getting the cups, two at a time, while Darius returned to the den, and stacked the saucers and the plates in neat piles, tongue hanging out from concentration, while he stopped once in a while to admire his bracelet.

“Your son is unreal,” Elain whispered as she passed Azriel. 

He chuckled.

“What is he even? A damn miracle kid,” she continued, though she avoided any other topics of conversation, especially those of a more intimate nature, and only stuck to admiring the adorable toddler.

Azriel was washing the dishes methodically, his inked forearms wet and glistening, and somehow, extra attractive right now. 

“He does chores,” he said, while Darius ambled with three plates in his hands. “Somewhat badly, but he does them.”

“I think he does them perfectly!” Elain announced firmly. 

Once the dishes were washed, dried and put away, Azriel wiped his hands and called, “Dar, time to go, buddy.”

“We can’t stay, da?” Darius asked sadly.

“I think we need to let Elain rest. She’s been working really hard and made this gorgeous party for you guys.”

“Yes! Thank you, Lain!” Darius yelled.

“You are welcome, sweet boy,” Elain stroked his head. “Go get your cap.”

“No friendship bracelet for me?” Azriel’s low, sexual voice was suddenly right behind her, and Elain jumped, realising that he was standing behind her. His face dipped lower and his nose made a long, gentle swipe along her cheek. 

Heart pounding, she felt her nipples harden and Azriel’s proximity made her pant-y. She was stifling the urgent need to moan.

“I have one for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear softly. Then he reached and took her wrist in his huge hand, before slipping a plain silver band from his wrist, and closing it over hers. He wore a bunch of bracelets–mostly silver, some leather, some linked and knotted, others just bands, and this one was from his collection.

“Very nice,” he admired his bracelet on her hand and then stepped around, facing her. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, his eyes hooded and warm.

He slowly lifted his hands and cupped her face between them.

“I was honest when I said that I would not push you,” he murmured huskily. “But until you tell me ‘no’ and until I hear it from your own lips that you are not interested, I will remain as into you as I am right now. Infatuated. Flabbergasted. You brought me to my knees without even trying. And until you tell me otherwise, I would want to fuck you and make you mine. I promise you that your tight little pussy will be mine. And this fucking glorious ass. And your pink mouth, which looks like a half-open tulip. I want every hole. Every crevice. Every damn fucking bit of you, down to your soul. And I will have it. Because we’ve been written in the stars, baby.”

He looked down at her, and just when Elain thought that he was going to kiss her, he softly pressed his lips to her forehead and then let go of her.

Darius arrived with his flat cap on his head and then he took Azriel’s hand.

“Bye Lain! Bye Isa. You be good.”

Elain, who could barely breathe since Azriel’s wildly inappropriate and heated words, only managed to nod, as she watched the father and son open the door and walk out.

To be continued

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #elain #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elainarcheronweek2023 #elainarcheronweek #Princess Tea Party #Elriel fanfiction #Elain Archeron fanfiction #ACOTAR fanfic #Modern AU

[neolithicsheep]

So yesterday I told you about http://aseelapp.com where you can go to donate aid for Afghan people who are hungry or need heat for winter, or buy directly from Afghan artisans.

My main platform has been twitter for years but, well, you know. Anyway my routine is that on weekends I boost a campaign to my followers so here's a link to help people in Herat Province:

Herat is the large province highlighted in red. The population is about 3 million, and around 80% of those people live in rural areas raising saffron or sheep, weaving carpets, or quarrying marble. Only about a quarter of households have access to clean water.

Also while I have you here, let me wreck your budget. It takes about a month for things to get from Afghanistan to me here in North Carolina so if you want to order for Christmas your deadline is RIGHT NOW. Let me make some suggestions!

https://aseelapp.com/en_us/lapis%20ring%20for%20men4.html

Afghanistan has enormous amounts of lapis lazuli deposits and you can find a lot of gorgeous things made from it ranging from jewelry to candlesticks. The Dari word for lapis is lajaward (لاجورد) which probably derives from the place in Badakhshan, Afghanistan, where it has historically been mined.

Nematullah and Brotheran has your gorgeous lapis bowls, picture frames, etc

Mr Haneif at Nuristan Fashion has wool waistcoats, long coats, and patu!! A patu is a large 100% wool shawl worn by Afghan men. Buying one was the best decision I ever made as there's nothing better than wrapping up in a big length of wool.

Do you drink tea? Let me introduce you to Mr Wakil at the Istalefi Pottery Shop! Among other things he makes absolutely amazing teapots. I have a few things from him and another on the way. Here is the small bowl I eat my snacks from!

For merchants, Aseel is a platform like Etsy. You are buying from an Afghan artisan and helping them keep their family fed and clothed and warm. I recommend using the "Shop by Brand" option as it will show you only Afghan shops.

I volunteer my time with the Aseel team doing... Basically this. I'm also constantly trying to convince them to tell sellers to raise prices because they're criminally low but no dice so far.

#Save Afghanistan #afghanistan #Aseel app #Herat Province #Istalefi Pottery #Nuristan #teapot #Patoo #Lapis lazuli #Humanitarian aid

[zillobeastbait]

Sick day

Sick Day Daryl’s Daughter Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader Words 1174 Warnings/Notes: Sick, passing out, none other than the show

not my image

You wake up one morning feeling dizzy and nauseous. You roll over and look to see if Daryl is still in bed or if he’s already out and about. You see his pillow and pile of blankets but not him. “Daryl?” you call out, hoping he’s somewhere near the tent. When you get no response you decide to get up and look to see if he’s in the camp or out hunting. You climb out of your tent and realize you are more dizzy than you thought and your head hurts like hell. “Daryl?” you call out again, this time holding your hand up to your head. You get no response and try to walk farther towards the rest of the camp but your head is spinning and you can barely stand up right. “Y/n? Are you ok?” you hear someone say before you fall to the ground and pass out.

“Someone needs to get Daryl, now!” Lori says with a firm tone, and one of the people goes running off. Lori is still holding the girl from when she caught her, breaking her fall moments ago. “What happened?” a young Carl comes running up beside his mother. “We don’t know right now but I need you to wait by the rest of the group. That goes for the rest of you too.” Lori waves them all away with her hand. “She could be sick and we don’t want everyone else to get sick as well.” As everyone is walking away Lori picks up the young girl and brings her back to Daryl’s tent where she had been staying. She puts the girl on her cot and checks her head and neck for a fever. That's when she felt that she was burning up. Just as Lori was about to leave and see if they had found Daryl yet he came running up to the tent. “Where is she? Is she ok?” He seemed frantic and worried. “She's right here, Daryl. She is burning up and probably has a fever, which means she might be throwing up and coughing a lot later.” Lori tries explaining to him but he doesn't seem to be listening as he sits down and feels her for himself. “Daryl, are you listening? You're going to need to keep an eye on her.” “Yea, I hear ya.” “Ok, let me know when she’s up and I’ll heat up some soup for her. Don’t let her eat sweets or drink any pop or anything.” “Alright, I got it, will you just let me sit with her?” Daryl said it a little louder than he meant to, and probably a little too harsh, but he really just wanted to make sure that his girl was ok.

When you wake up the first thing you feel is Daryl’s hand in yours. You slowly open your eyes and it feels like the sun is too bright and the world is spinning. “D-Dary-l?” You croak the words out, and it takes all of your strength to do so. “Hey, it's ok kid, I got ya, you're ok.” he shoots up so he's right up next to the bed. “E-Everything h-hurts.” you take long and deep breaths after talking. “It’s gonna be ok kid, don’t waste your energy talkin’. I got you.” Daryl moves one of his hands up to brush your hair out of your face. He keeps it on your head after, moving his thumb over your forehead. He keeps his other hand interlocked with yours. You look into his eyes for a while before drifting off to sleep.

It’s been an hour before you wake back up. “Hey kid, how ya’ feelin’?” Daryl smiles at you from his spot on his cot. “Not any better.” you let out a couple coughs before continuing. “Can I have some food?” “Oh right, Lori told me to tell her when you woke up, I’ll be right back.” He leans down and kisses the top of your head before unzipping and stepping out of the tent. “Alright.” you reply, although it’s more for yourself since he can’t even hear you.

Daryl returns a couple minutes later. “Lori is gonna make you some soup. Said it’s got healthy stuff in it.” He smiles as he says healthy stuff. You smirk back. He always jokes with you about how you two eat things differently or act differently from everyone else. “Can you read me my book while we wait? Please?” You're still smiling and it melts his heart that little bit more every time. “I guess, which one do you want?” He always pretends to be grumpy about doing things for you. Things that “show his emotions” as you like to call it. “Y-you pick.” you let out a couple more coughs before settling down facing him. He only gets about halfway through when Lori knocks on your tent. “Hang on.” Daryl sets the book down next to you and clears everything off your foldable table before quickly opening the tent and taking the soup from her. “Thank you, Lori.” He gives her a quick nod. “I appreciate it.” She gives him a smile before looking down at you. “And how are you doing? Feeling any better?” She smiles at you. You just shake your head no in response and turn back to face the rather large bowl of soup. “Alright well I’ll leave you two alone then. Get some rest y/n.” Lori looks up and exchanges a nod with Daryl one last time before zipping the tent back up and leaving. “Can you sit up? To eat?” Daryl kneels by your bed again to help you sit up if you need. You simply shake your head no and struggle a little but sit up as much as you can. “Here.” Daryl holds the pot by the handle and gets a spoonful. You expect him to hand it to you but instead he brings it up to his mouth and blows on it. He then takes the whole thing into his mouth. He sits and chews for a moment before nodding his head slightly and getting another spoonful. He brings it back up to his mouth and blows before bringing it up to yours. You take a bite and chew. You smile at the warmth in your scratchy raw throat. He repeats this process with you over and over again. Eventually you finish the soup and he sets the pot back down. “Want me to finish the book?” he reaches over and grabs it, holding it up in front of you. You just nod yes and he gives you a little smile before starting to read again. You lay back down and let Daryl’s voice carry you to sleep. Once Daryl saw that she was asleep he carefully pulled the blankets up to her shoulders and tucked her in. He sat there for a moment after. Just watching her and thinking. Eventually he gets up and lays in his own cot, ready to get some sleep himself.

-----

Thanks for reading! As always, support your writers by not only liking but also commenting and re-blogging!

Commissions: Open

#the walking dead #daryl #daryl dixon #fanfic #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #fanfiction #jowrites #daryl x daughter

[fluffskizeu]

Littles

Suara bell tiba-tiba berbunyi di apartemen yang masih sepi suara itu, jam 6 pagi di hari Minggu, belum ada orang yang beraktifitas.

DUG DUG DUG

Mendengar suara itu, si gadis tidak lagi bisa berpura-pura tertidur. Lagipula siapa yang akan tidak sopan menggedor pintu orang lain di pagi hari, khususnya di hari Minggu?!!

Dengan masih mengernyit, mata yang menyipit, perempuan itu meninggalkan hangat dari pelukan kekasihnya, juga selimut tebalnya untuk melihat siapa yang ada di depan.

Perempuan itu justru semakin mengernyit, dari lubang pengintipnya ia melihat kakak perempuannya ada di depan pintu bersama kedua balita kembarnya.

Click

“AUNTIEEEEEE!!!”

Teriakan dari kedua bocah itu seketika memenuhi unit apartement beserta seisi lorongnya, membuat sang ibu buru-buru melangkah masuk, takut-takut mengganggu yang lain.

Keduanya menyerbu paha perempuan itu, karena tingginya yang belum seberapa, tetap semangat menyambut tantenya yang baru bangun tidur.

“Sorry, really need your help. i have to go to the hospital”

Seakan kakaknya bisa menebak apa yang dipikirkannya, anak kembar yang belum mengerti percakapan orang dewasa itu masih asyik bermain dan bercakap dengan mainan yang dibawanya masing-masing.

“Here I already prepared their meals, this-is what you should cook for them, and these are the list they couldn’t eat— you can bill me for the expenses okay? I really need your help sissy, -must go now!”

Bicaranya dengan kecepatan yang membuat adiknya sendiri termenung diam, berusaha mencerna semuanya. Kakak perempuannya menghampiri kedua balitanya dan mengecup pipi mereka masing-masing.

“You both are happy right? I granted your wish to go to Aunt’s house, now mommy gonna go for a while and you guys— don’t be naughty and give your auntie a hard time, alright? Bu-bye”

Lagi-lagi keduanya masih terlihat senang, mengecup balik pipi ibunya sebelum sang ibu meninggalkan mereka di tempat yang masih sedikit asing untuknya.

Click

Perempuan itu mengerjapkan matanya, apa.. yang baru saja terjadi.. tiba-tiba keponakannya berkunjung- atau lebih tepatnya terpaksa berkunjung?

Ia masih terduduk diam di kursi meja makan, menatap ke arah ruang tamu di mana keduanya sedang bercanda dan bermain, sampai tiba-tiba ia lengah dengan pengawasannya.

Salah satu dari gadis kecil itu membuka kamarnya, dan berteriak memanggil saudara kembarnya.

“PLAY HERE!! IT’S COOL IN HERE!!”

Dilanjut dengan tawanya dan kaki kecil itu mendepak lantai berlari dengan semangat, belum sempat dihentikan.

Oh tidak, Chan sedang tertidur di dalam. Hari ini seharusnya jadi hari istirahat Chan, setelah berminggu-minggu tidur di subuh hari dan kembali bekerja di pagi hari.

Bahkan, ia juga tidak tahu kekasihnya suka anak kecil atau tidak. Tidak pernah melihatnya bersinggungan atau berinteraksi dengan anak kecil sebelumnya, membuatnya sedikit tak enak hati kalau kedua keponakannya akan mengganggu.

“Wait guys! You can’t-“

“AUNTIE THERE’S SOMEONE SLEEPING!!”

Gadis itu tambah terbelalak dengan teriakan salah satu dari mereka, buru-buru ia masuk ke dalam kamar melihat pemandangan horror, keponakannya berloncat-loncat di ranjangnya. Bahkan tubuh Chan terlihat ikut sedikit terguncang karena ulah mereka.

“AUNTIEE LOOK WHO IS THIS!!!”

Anak kecil itu menunjuk pria yang perlahan terbangun, menyipitkan matanya berkat gorden yang sudah dibuka lebar oleh salah satu dari mereka. Laki-laki itu mengusap matanya, tubuhnya ikut berguncang dengan dua orang anak kecil terus berlomba-lomba meloncat lebih tinggi di atas kasur.

“Oh my God.. guys guys, come on come here”

Perempuan itu berbisik, yang tentu saja tidak mempengaruhi keduanya. Justru Chan yang memunggunginya tadi berbalik menghadapnya yang ada di pintu, berusaha memanggil kedua gadis kecil itu.

Oh she feels sorry for him

Kamar itu dipenuhi dengan berisik teriakan seru anak kecil, dan tak lama kekasihnya sepenuhnya terbangun. Tampaknya anak kembar itu juga tidak takut dengan pria asing yang sama sekali tidak pernah dikenal mereka.

Malahan keduanya tertawa tergelitik melihat, dengan berani menyentuh rambut keriting Chan, tapi justru malah membuat care takernya panik.

“Why your hair look like this mister?” One of them grab a small part of his curly hair and giggles.

“No baby.. no-no-no.. you can’t touch anyone without their permission okay? What do you say now?”

Tawa kecilnya diinterupsi karena tidak sopan pada pria asing di depannya, matanya membulat merasa bersalah.

“Awe it’s okay hahaha, who are you guys little girls hmm?”

Chan merespon dengan senyum lesung pipinya, tangannya menadah dan ditepuk dengan gadis kecil satunya, menjawab dengan riang.

“I’m Anne! That’s my sister Anna” Also answering on her behalf of her sister.

“I’m Chan”

“They are my nieces, twins. My sister just dropped by, she said she had an urgent, so.. yea”

Kekasihnya sedikit menjelaskan, sementara pria itu menggenggam tangan kecil yang menepuk tangannya tadi.

“Now.. girls come on, don’t bother uncle Chan because he needs to sleep, yea? Let’s go out”

Ajaknya berharap keduanya mengikuti, tapi tidak.

“Why? the sun is up already”

Chan yang mendengar itu malah tertawa kecil, pikiran anak kecil memang terlalu polos.

“It’s okay babe- I’m awake already”

“I’m really..sorry about this. You can just go back to sleep okay?”

“What do you mean? The sun is already up Anne said”

Ketiganya termasuk Chan tertawa serempak, bahkan sempat-sempatnya pria itu memberikan tangannya untuk ditos kedua anak kembar itu.

“Are you guys like mommy and daddy? Mommy and daddy says babe at home too”

Pertanyaan Anna membuat keduanya saling melirik.

“Yeah we are”

Jawab Chan mendahului kekasihnya yang berpikir menyiapkan jawaban.

“Now, what’s for breakfast? Did you guys aready have breakfast? Come on let’s go out”

Entah ia kurang mengenal kekasihnya sendiri, atau situasi yang menurutnya aneh ini sedikit menenangkannya. Bahkan Chan berhasil membawa kedua bocah kecil itu keluar dari kamar, tanpa paksaan atau teriakan.

#chan littles #chan lovemehard012

[kaktus-tajam]

Adab terhadap Diri

"Hal sepele sih buat sebagian orang, tapi hati saya gimanaaa gitu kalau makan berdiri."

Secuil kisah ini langsung aku jawab dengan anggukan setuju,

"Iya malaah serem yaa Dok.. kalau hati kita nggak peka lagi."

"Iya yaa, hilang sensitivitasnya ya.."

Padahal, kalau kalian pernah ikut konferensi/ simposium/ seminar terutama internasional.. tentu paham bahwa tea break adalah hal krusial untuk networking. Makanan mulai dari cake, buah, sayur dengan hummus, hingga minuman dari jus sampai wine tersedia dengan indahnya (teh juga ada dong, kan tea break.. hehe).

Nah sayangnya, budaya di Barat itu melakukan 'prosesi' ini dengan berdiri.

Inilah praktiknya bab adab. Adab apa? Terngiang suara gurunda,

"Sebagai penghafal Quran, adab terhadap diri sendiri haruslah dijaga. Ia akan sadar, bahwa ada al Quran yang hidup dalam dirinya, dititipkan Allah di hatinya. Maka adab apa pun itu, termasuk makan dan minum, menjadi hal yang sangat besaar."

“Terus gimana Dok?” tanyaku

Mau ikut makan sambil berdiri, rasanya nggak tenang.. tapi kalau ngga ikut mingle nanti dicap eksklusif..

Triknya gimana?

Wah ternyata ada tips menarik dari beliau yang bisa dicontoh,

"Saya biasanya ambil makanan, ikut berdiri dan ngobrol. Namun makanan saya biarkan dulu, toh yang penting ngobrolnya hehe. Nanti, kalau sudah habis waktu tea break dan semua sudah kembali masuk ke ruangan, langsung saya cari tempat duduk dan makan sejenak."

Jadi ingat pesan gurunda ketika pamit untuk exchange,

"Seorang muslim itu, terlihat identitasnya justru ketika situasi dan kondisi tidak memungkinkan namun ia tetap teguh pada pendirian."

---

Pagi itu, Desember 2019, tak terasa hampir 3,5 jam aku dan dr. Iin bercengkerama. Percakapan mengalir begitu saja, dan banyak sekali hikmah yang Allah titipkan lewat beliau. Silaturahmi itu indah, maka selagi aku di Melbourne saya izin menemui beliau di tempat penelitian PhD beliau di Florey Institute of Neuroscience and Mental Health. Sambil duduk menghadap jendela besar di ruang makan, memandang orang-orang di bawah berlalu lalang di langit yang mendung..

Lahir dan besar di Solo, dr. Muthmainah, M. Neurosci menyelesaikan pendidikan kedokteran di Universitas Sebelas Maret. Saat itu, sembari menunggu projek di Rumah Sakit UNS beliau menjadi pengajar, pembimbing tutorial atau skills lab untuk mahasiswa S1. Jatuh cinta pada peran akademisi, akhirnya beliau mencari beasiswa untuk S2 di Australia. Hingga sampailah beliau di University of Queensland, Brisbane dengan beasiswa AAS. Sempat hampir ditarik kembali jadi dosen plus spesialis, beliau mengaku sudah jatuh cinta dengan research sehingga melanjutkan S3 dengan beasiswa LPDP di University of Melbourne.

Selain keresahan itu yang kami diskusikan, aku terharu akhirnya Allah pertemukan dengan dokter sekaligus researcher yang sepakat bahwa sebagai muslim di bidang ini punya peran yang sangat penting. Kenapa?

"Karena ketika menunjukkan diri sebagai muslim yang taat tapi juga profesional.. nggak kampungan, cerdas, berkelas.. di situlah syiar kita sebagai muslim!"

Pas denger kata 'syiar' langsung merinding dan tertohok karena malu. Kadang peranku sebagai agen muslim masih compang-camping. Padahal dr. Iin, sampai berazam kuat untuk bisa melampaui -- minimal setara -- dalam nilai dengan teman-teman sekelas beliau.

Anyway, hari itu aku diajak berkeliling gedung tempat riset itu (yang ternyata mengembangbiakkan domba di lantai 5 untuk hewan coba..) dan dijelaskan pula project PhD beliau tentang stress-induced eating disorder. Melihat beliau berinteraksi dengan colleagues-nya dengan santun dan ramah. Semua disapa, diajak basa-basi (hehe, aku kok masih suka nggak pede ya sama bule).

Daaan selain itu, aku banyak meminta nasehat termasuk tentang keluarga (hehe). Aku pernah menyaksikan researcher yang menganggap work-life balance itu tidak ada. Lalu mereka yang married to his work. Dan mereka yang keluarganya berantakan, jatuh ke perselingkuhan ketika jadi residen, dan lainnya. Naudzubillahimindzalik.

Padahal, sebagai muslim tentu kita pahami ada porsi-porsi untuk masing-masing aspek. Porsi diri, keluarga, pekerjaan, umat. Sesuatu bernama hak. Yang tentu kuncinya terletak pada porsi diri secara vertikal. Terlepas dari ujian yang akan dialami, tentu kita berikhtiar memaksimalkan setiap peran ini.

Maka sebagai wanita, ada sebuah lisensi penting dalam apa pun itu yaitu ridha suami (kalau belum menikah, ayah). Dr. Iin yakin kalau sudah diizinkan sang suami, maka InsyaAllah urusan-urusan menjadi mengalir. Termasuk tantangan mengurus anak ketiga seorang diri sambil Masters, pengorbanan LDR dengan anak-anak di Solo (InsyaAllah segera menyusul).. alhamdulillah.

Research bagi beliau,

"It's exciting that you'd never know what you can find!"

Tidak perlu jadi orang yang pinter bangeet, tapi masuk ke dunia ini butuh modal persistensi: terus bertanya, mencari jawaban dan troubleshooting ketika data bermasalah.

Aku akhir-akhir ini berpikir.. Betapa banyak, research yang akhirnya malah jadi alat menjatuhkan islam? Yang akhirnya keluar dari makna sesungguhnya? Yang akhirnya jauh dari hikmah dan berorientasi memuaskan ego? Yang akhirnya destruktif bagi alam?

Padahal dalam Islam kita mengenal konsep maqasid syariah, yang jika menurut Prof. Hamid Fahmy Zarkasyi.. kegiatan manusia yang berkait dengan menjaga agama, menjaga jiwa, menjaga akal, menjaga harta, dan menjaga keturunan.. idealnya ditambah: menjaga lingkungan.

Selamat curiga bahwa Anda yang membaca, sedang Allah titipkan pesan. Pesan untuk dipinjam Allah menjadi pionir-pionir research dengan islamic worldview di era ini.

- h.a.

Draft tulisan Desember 2019, yang Allah pertemukan kembali pagi ini ketika menyiapkan materi kemuslimahan #murajaah

Semoga Allah jaga beliau

[hey-august]

Nine people I'd like to get to know better

Thank you for the tag here, @fanaticsnail!! I love that you added extra tidbits and I'm right there with ya on tteokbokki being a delicious compound of flavors. 🤤

Last song: Odio Tutto, Odio Tutti by Ëgo, Dari

I don't know Italian, but this was on one of my daylists and I like it.

Favourite Colour: Pink!

Hot pink or light pink. (Also black.) Tangentially related, one of my favorite icebreakers is "what color do you feel like right now." atm, I feel like an apricot orange.

Last Movie/TV Show: Love is Blind

I like enjoy watching trash TV and shouting at the screen. It's cathartic.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: Spicy, please. 🌶️

I want to have the sniffles. Don't ask me if something is spicy because I can't tell unless it's a big heck yes. My mom used to tell me not to eat spicy food when I was sick, otherwise I would get ulcers. I didn't listen and don't have any issues yet sooo 😋

Relationship Status: Married.

He passively watches trash TV with me and I passively watch him play video games. Currently on rotation is Hell Divers 2.

Last thing I googled: "miim miic 99 hair and body oil"

I bought some from Marshall's and it smells SO GOOD. It looks like they might not make the hair and body oil anymore, though.

Current Obsession: Besides writing about the clown - cooking and baking!

The weather is getting nicer and veggies are getting cheaper. Also, there's supposed to be a bake-off at work that I want(ed) to join, so I've been looking up recipes. Right now, I'm tempted to make a Filipino Sans Rival cake, either for the bake-off or just to try it.

7 no pressure tags because I can't think of 9 people without double tagging: @gabegade, @turtletaubwrites, @galaxycunt, @miss-atomic-blog, @feral-artistry, @venulus, @mscyb0rg

#tag game #moots #get to know hey-august

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 18

~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist |Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: Daryl needs some space. You don't. (Introverts gotta introvert) This chapter contains: Angst, poor communication, a bad storm approaches. Word count: 3.2K Note: So like...don't get mad at Daryl. Dude really misses hunting.

It’d been a month since Daryl had claimed you, and you’d settled into a nice, domestic life with your Alpha. Since you now bore his mark and his scent, you didn’t need to be on suppressants; however, you continued to take your birth control pills. Neither you nor Dary were ready for pups.

You’d mostly moved out of your apartment and into the house, except for a few clothes and an extra set of bed linens. You’d had your share of academic all-nighters, so it was nice to know you could always stay there if a paper or project demanded all of your attention..

Occasionally, Ro and Merle visited you and Daryl. They still bickered a lot, but always visited together. You figured that whatever was going on between them somehow worked for the two betas, so you did your best not to pry.

A few days after Halloween, you began to realize Daryl was more anxious than usual. On the surface, everything remained normal. You had breakfast and dinner together, made love almost every night, so you weren’t sure what was causing his mood. In the past week he’d even become less talkative, which is to say, he barely spoke at all.

Still, one Friday evening he managed to startle you with an announcement at dinner.

“Goin’ huntin’ tomorrow,” he said--or really growled--over his plate of pot roast and veggies.

“Oh! Okay!” You smiled. “I’ll go to the store and get some boots and clothes for our excursion.”

Daryl dropped his fork onto the plate, and it clanged loudly. “”M goin’ alone. Tha’s how I like it. I jus’ need to get outta ‘ere. Tired of lookin’ at the same damn walls day after day an’ bein’ stuck inside.”

His words hurt you. He was unhappy. Here you had been content with work, school, and your relationship, but Daryl felt trapped.

Was this outburst a sign of things to come? Would Daryl always feel the need to escape from home? From you?  All you’d wanted from life was to study and have a pack. But what did Daryl want? He talked about pups, but it was always some far off time in the future. What did he want now?

He started eating again. “It ain’t you,��� he grumbled. “Jus’ need my own space.”

“O-o-okay,” you replied, blinking quickly to quell your tears. You knew that Daryl could instinctively sense some of your emotions, just as you could his, but you did your best to get control of this empty feeling his words had created.

You couldn’t eat any more, so you stood up and began putting away the leftover food.  “It’s okay, Alpha. I can just go to campus tomorrow. I’ll…miss you.”

“Alrigh’,” he said, taking his now-empty plate to the sink. “‘M gonna pack some shit and hit the hay.”

You nodded. “I’ll join you as soon as I finish up here.”

“Nah, I’ll sleep in the other room. Be outta here before daylight anyway.”

He didn’t even want to sleep next to you? You hadn’t spent a night without him since you’d moved here. And now you had to sleep in that big nest all alone?

“Are you sure it isn’t me?” you asked, taking his hand before he could walk away.

He gave you a small nod, pulled his hand from yours, and disappeared down the hallway.

That was the last you saw of him.

You woke up the next morning, cold and lonely. The house had central heating, but at night it was turned down low. Snuggling with Daryl always kept you warm.

You reached overhead for your glasses and put them on, sighing.. It felt like the life had gone out of your home. Now, it was just an empty shell.

Desperately missing your mate, you reached out to him through your bond, just a nudge, and you were met with a sense of relief. Did that mean Daryl was happy where he was? Or happy that you’d thought of him? You waited, and after a moment you felt him purposefully thinking of you, sending you thoughts of comfort and encouragement.

You smiled but stifled the urge to keep communicating with him. You didn’t want to be a nuisance. Connecting with him had helped your sense of loneliness some, although you still missed him dearly.

After you got ready to face the day, you called up Ro to see if he wanted to study together. But he was on a weekend trip to Nashville of all places. Next, you tried texting the group chat for the research center, but there was no way to elegantly say “please hang out with me!” without sounding crazy, so you gave up on that.

Eventually, you found yourself calling Merle, but the man sent you straight to voicemail. Twice.

For the next little bit you paced up and down the hallway like a petulant child, then you started arguing with yourself. You’d been alone plenty of times. Why was it such a struggle today?  You could just put in a Hitchcock DVD and veg out. Or you could do some research on that proposal due next week. You had plenty to keep you busy.

Ten minutes later, you were fed up listening to your own thoughts and packed your bag. You could at least study in the campus library. It was a beautiful building with lots of open spaces and windows. And you’d be surrounded by people, too.

Once outside, rain pelted you in the face and wind whipped at your jacket. You hadn’t even realized it was storming. However, the weather didn’t deter you in the slightest. You had an umbrella in the car, so you thought little of it and just got inside your yellow Bug as quickly as you could.

You put your key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. You tried again, only to be met with a clicking noise.  Maybe the battery was dead. You had a tester kit in the back, along with a tire pressure gauge and various car fluids. Traveling alone all those years had taught you to be prepared.

You got back outside, trying to avoid the rain, but in no time your glasses were fogged up and covered with rain droplets. You took them off to clean them with your somewhat dry sweatshirt, but then lightning clapped. You yelped, jumped, and dropped your glasses. Thunder scared you immensely. Logically, you knew you weren’t in serious danger, but any hint of peril usually caused you to freeze up.

Trembling, channeled your inner Velma, getting on your hands and knees to find your glasses on the pavement. After a minute of searching, the rain pelting you stopped.

A voice above you said, “Lose something?”

The rough timbre set your skin on fire, despite the cold dampness of your clothes. You got to your feet and came face to face (well, face to chest) with Rick Grimes.

He held an umbrella over you while he stood in a police department rain poncho.  His scent hit you immediately, worming its way through your nostrils and into your belly, making everything in you come more alive. What’s more, your fear of the storm was eased away. 

A perfectly natural reaction. You were a frightened omega and he was a protective alpha.

“My glasses,” you said. “They may have gotten under the car somehow.”

A spark of light streaked across the sky, and almost instantly thunder boomed.

You shook again and instinctively grabbed Rick’s hand.

It was strong and slightly calloused, not nearly as rough as Daryl’s. Yet holding Rick’s hand reminded you of the first time Daryl had touched you. How certainty had flooded through you, how you knew he was your mate. You remember wanting nothing more than having Daryl fill you up with his knot and put his mark on your skin.

Now you wanted the same thing with Rick, which should be impossible. And what did it say about you? Not being satisfied with one mate, but your body demanding another?

Yet, you and Rick held tight to each other, your eyes staring into his as the rain poured around you. His eyes were soft but full of shock, his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he handed you the umbrella, then he bent over. When he stood up your glasses were in his hand. Instead of handing them to you, he put them in his pocket, took the umbrella back and continued holding your hand. Thunder cracked through the air again, and you found yourself willingly following him into his apartment.

Once inside, Rick finally let go of your hand. For the past month he’d been avoiding you, but when he saw you out in the rain, alone and down on all fours, his alpha instincts took control. Even now, he was struggling against them.

When you’d taken his hand, though you were frightened and simply looking for a protector, Rick found himself flooded with a nearly uncontrollable urge to make you his.  His cock grew hard, but there was something else inside him coming to life. He wanted to be yours. He wanted to protect you from any and all who might do you harm. He wanted you to hold him and soothe his own worries, wanted to lay his head on your chest as you played with his hair. And he wanted you to wear his mark.

As he helped you out of your coat, Rick could see Daryl’s mark, and a growl escaped him. You startled, and he tried clearing his throat to cover up the noise. Your scent had changed, but now it was even more intoxicating. He looked down at you, your hair dripping, your face so bare and empty without your glasses on it, and you struck him as off-kilter.  You needed his mark, on the other side of your neck. He’d share you with Daryl. In fact, his body and mind were so wrecked with need, Rick felt like the only way he could remain sane was if you let him claim you, everything else be damned.

“Rick?” you said, suddenly not the scared, whimpering omega you were outside, but now self-assured and assertive.

He couldn’t speak. He simply clutched your wet coat in his hands and stared at you.

“Can I have my glasses back?

He nodded, not speaking in case he growled again. He hung your coat on the rack and fished your glasses from his inner pocket.  

You took them, and asked, “Where’s the bathroom? I need to…dry off.”

He jutted his chin in the right direction and you quickly walked away from him.

Standing there, he wondered if this was how Daryl felt about you. Or if Daryl’s pull to you was even stronger, since you were true mates.

Supposedly.

What if you and Daryl had gotten it wrong? What if Rick was your true mate and Daryl just another alpha? But that didn’t seem right, either. Because then why did your new scent not repulse him? Why hadn’t he tried to take you from Daryl before?

His thoughts were interrupted by an emergency alert blaring from the television in the living room, where Rick had been tracking the storm system. They’d only even learned about the storm a couple of hours ago, which was really odd for a hurricane. 

You sat in Rick Grimes’s bathroom, staring at a kid's rubber ducky that judged you from its home in the middle of the bathtub.

What in the actual living hell was wrong with you? Being frightened was one thing, but holding Rick’s hand? Wanting to wrap his scent all around you? Wanting him to kiss you and make it all better?

You were sick in the head. Some insatiable omega, just uncontrollable lust and longing after one night without your mate.

You began to cry, sitting on the lid of the toilet as Daryl’s phone went to voicemail. You had to leave him a message, at least. “Daryl, I hope you’re okay. It’s storming here and I know you have all that stuff. I just--” Your voice gave out and a choked sob escaped. “Just worried about you. I love you.” You ended the call and blew your nose on some toilet paper. 

Did Daryl even have service where he was? You wished you’d asked what part of the forest he went to.  You wished Merle had answered your calls and could come and pick you up.

You called Ro next, letting yourself cry. You had to tell someone about this. And who better than your best friend?

“Heya,” he answered.

“Ro, tell me I’m a good person.”

“What? I mean, you are, but…Y/N what’s going on? Is it Daryl?”

“No…it’s…I don’t know how to say this.”

“It’s okay. Just start at the beginning.”

“There’s a storm--and you know how I am about thunder--and I just…My car wouldn’t start and I dropped my glasses. And Rick came out to help me, but the thunder was so loud--and I just grabbed his hand without thinking--and now---Ro I don’t….”

“Go ahead,” he replied, voice patient and calm. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”

“When we touched, it was just like when I touched Daryl for the first time. Just…everything.  Like needing to stay near him, wanting him to claim me, just wanting to call him alpha and…it’s all the same, Ro!”

He was silent on the other end.

“But I’m Daryl’s, and I can’t…not being his, it’s like not being alive. Why can’t I…what’s wrong with me?”

Jesus shouldered his phone, and for the third time, lightly slapped Merle on the knee, trying to keep the man from bothering him as you cried in Jesus’s ear.

He took out his tablet and opened the weather app, wondering how in the hell a hurricane was about to bear down on Georgia. There’d been no warnings about it. The storm wasn’t huge, but could still do some damage. It was just the…surprise of it all. He handed the tablet to Merle, who mumbled “What in the hell?” as Jesus turned his attention back to you on the phone.

His heart beat fast in his chest, his mind putting pieces together. Strange weather, no warning.  It was a pattern he’d seen in his research, off and on. But to think it was happening now? Yet everything added up.  His dissertation had taken shape in his mind earlier this week: omega mating habits as predictors of catastrophe. Floods, plagues, wars…all of them preceded by a single phenomenon. Omegas with multiple true mates.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he replied, getting his bearings.   “Can you let me talk for a minute? It’ll make sense, promise.”

“Okay.”

“Remember the AIDS epidemic in the 80s? Happened all over but mainly in the cities. New York is what we have the most information on. Just before that, about 1% of the omega population, claimed to find two mates. People weren’t as open-minded then, so I’m guessing there are more who never registered with both mates."

“Yeah, you told me about this the other day, I think.”

“Y/N, it’s not just a thunderstorm out there. It’s a hurricane. Going to make landfall in a few hours.”

“What…Ro…what does this have to do with anything?  I wish you were here. I wish Daryl was here…”

“Listen, please,” he begged. “Hurricanes in November? With no warning?  That’s a big deal! It’s going to do some damage for sure.  But you need to be strong. You’re very important right now.”

“I’m not…I’m just a person. A person with a fucked up libido, but just a person."

Ro ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “It’s time to consider that you might have two mates.”

You’d been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes, making Rick worry you’d somehow hurt yourself in there. He pounded on the door when the second alert sounded from the living room.

“Y’alright in there? We gotta get to your place and pack a few things. Storm’s coming. Need to head to a shelter.”

Instantly, the door swung open, and there you were, phone clutched in your hand.  Your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

God, how he wanted to hug you, pull you to his chest and take care of whatever had upset you. One of his hands flinched. He shoved it into his pocket.

“I know. A hurricane. Merle said Daryl would be okay. There’s a cabin with a root cellar, but I think Daryl’s scared. I don’t know if he’s just worried about me. I’ve never…never been anywhere near a hurricane before.”

Your voice was shaky, and Rick put his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs just barely touched the skin beyond your t-shirt. “Here’s what you do, Omega. You show him you’re fine. You let him know you’re safe. Then see how he feels.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. A couple of tears escaped, and Rick turned away from you, to protect you from himself.

A moment later you said. “He’s okay.”

Rick nodded, walking from the bathroom and toward the door out of the apartment. 

“Rick, I--”

Your voice was small again, timid. He turned and cocked his head, wishing so much that he had a bond with you, like Daryl did. So that he could know right away what was wrong and how to fix it.

“Bunny.”

The word fell from his lips, a shock to himself.

You furrowed your brow.

“Something Daryl said once. When you’re scared, you look like a bunny in a bear trap.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the floor.

“It’s not too feminine, is it?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think bunny is gender specific. But Rick, I--I don���t know what to do. I want--I need Daryl. Without him…”

Rick made it across the room in two long strides. Your scent was all over his apartment, lavender and pine, almost like Daryl was here, too. And Rick did something he told himself he’d never do.

He reached for you. His hands took you by the hips and pulled you to him. His arms went around your soft, round body. His nose buried itself in your hair. On the job, he sometimes held an omega who was having a meltdown. It was one of his duties. For him, it had never been sexual or romantic, just a simple human connection. 

Holding you should have been like that.

It wasn’t.

“You need to be strong,” he told you. “You’re not alone, are you? And I’ll take care of you until Daryl gets back or the storm passes, whichever’s first.”

“What if…what if it upsets Daryl when he realizes I went to you for help?”

Rick took a deep breath and let you go. The ghost of your shape had embedded itself in his mind, his body.

He looked into your eyes. “If you were mine, and Daryl was here instead of me? I’d want him to do everything he could to keep you safe. He’s your mate, Bunny, and nothing can come between you two. Not even me.”

Next Chapter.

==

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