#there was salmon skin in the trash bag I took out

[lauwrite1225]

"What about a break ?" || Finan x OC

Summary: Saegyth said she would come late for dinner, so Finan decided to bring dinner to her office and maybe more...

A/N : It's still 8 am, and here I am, posting a smut. I am blaming @poguesmaybank once again. Like all the time I post modern AU smut about Finan and Saegyth. To be faire it's been waiting for a while in my docs, 2 months? Anyway, E N J O Y.

Take me to Another Lifetime Masterlist

Warning: Fluff and Smut

"What about a break?"

Saegyth twirled her pen between her fingers, concentrating on the paper she was reading. This was the biggest case she ever had since she was working on her own. Well in fact two other lawyers were working with her, but each of them had their own cases and rarely came to interfere in others work. Though, this time she would have gladly welcomed some help. She sighed leaning back in her chair and dropping her pen. 

She looked at the clock on the wall, it was already past 8pm. She grabbed her phone, intending to warn Finan she wouldn't be home for dinner, but she got a call from him first. She picked up and made her rolling chair turn. 

"Hi darling." She frowned when she heard the sound of a car through the phone. "You're not at home?"

"I'm not!" He replied and she could easily imagine that a grin was plastered on his face. "I'm in front of the office, can ya open me?" 

Saegyth stood up, confused about why he was here. Usually he would be at home at this hour, waiting for her for dinner. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, even though she was walking out of her office toward the front door and would have the answer soon enough.

"Ya sound pleased to see me." He replied, making her roll her eyes.

She hung up and unlocked the door to find herself face to face with her smirking fiancee, holding in one hand a paper bag. "I'm taking no more clients at this hour, sir." She said, leaning against the door's frame.

"Even if they brin' food?" Finan raised an eyebrow and shook the bag slightly.

She smiled and he immediately leaned to catch her lips. She pulled him in and locked the door behind him while he was looking around. It wasn't the first time Finan was coming, but it was rare enough for him to feel as he needed to recognize everything before staring back at her. 

"You said you'd finish late, so I thought you might be hungry." He explained as she stepped forward to take a look at what was in the paper bag. 

"Sushi! You read my mind, I was craving for some at lunch." She smiled and he chuckled. 

"Maybe." 

Saegyth shook her head before walking into her office, Finan close behind her. She piled up the folder spread on the desk to make space and let Finan rest the two boxes of sushis. 

"Ya're alone?" He questioned her, sitting on one of the two chairs usually for the clients. 

Saegyth nodded, taking a salmon roll, her favourites and for once Finan didn't forget to take a box of them. "Medwin left a hour ago." 

"So ya're alone." He grinned after leaning forward to dip a sushi in the soy sauce and bite in it.

She narrowed her eyes, he had something in mind, however she pretended not noticing it and kept talking of her day with him, until the two boxes were empty and her stomach was filled. She sunk in her chair again, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. 

"Thank you for the dinner." She said, eyeing him as he crossed the room to drop the boxes in the trash. 

He was still wearing his work clothes, consisting of a shirt, a blue-gray one today, and a simple jean. It was casualer than her own look for work, but it was fitting him perfectly, his shirt highlighting the shape of his torso and his broad shoulders. 

"You should surprise me more often." She added, grabbing a folder and taking the document she was previously working on. "I like it." 

He turned around, smirking widely and she couldn't help but bite the tip of her pen. He walked back to her and made her chair turn so he could stoop towards her, his hands clasped around the armrests. His face was an inch from hers and she could smell his perfume, it had a woody smell that she always found heartwarming mixed with a subtle odor of iris, making it hard to not just bury her own face in his neck.

"I can still surprise ya." He tilted his head, one of his hands moving to her bare thigh under the skirt of her dress. His palm was cold, spreading goosebumps on her skin.

"I have work to do." She replied but it didn't discourage Finan, whose fingers were now playing with the elastic band of her underwear which didn't help the smirk dancing on her lips.

"What about a break?" 

In fact, he didn't wait for her answer, his lips crashing on hers in a first soft kiss, tasting sweet soy sauce. She answered quickly, her hand sliding in his hair, eager for more. She felt him grin against her mouth teasing her flesh before finally easing the ache that had started to grow between her legs. She pressed her head against the seatback, his finger drawing a first circle at the apex of her fold. Her own fingers curled in his hair while she started to unbutton his shirt, now craving to feel his warm skin. 

“I hope there isn’t any security cam.” He chuckled, his mouth tracing a hot path along her neck. 

An amused huffed passed between her lips before she bit her lower one when Finan shifted his hand, to tease her entrance and she instinctively rocked her hips. She moaned at the bliss he was tactfully building in her, working again on undoing his buttons. Then, she undid his belt, removing the shirt from his trousers to finally let her palm slid on his chest. He caught her lips once again and at how rough his kiss was, his tongue meeting hers yearningly, swallowing her whimpers, she guessed he was impatient to feel his own pleasure. 

“Make space on the desk.” She commanded him, pushing him away slightly. Finan grinned, his hand moving from between her legs. He grabbed the pile of folders and looked around for somewhere to put it. “Put it on the floor.” She said, standing up. 

“Alright!” Finan shrugged and he let the pile fall on the floor. 

She grabbed the edge of his shirt, sliding the sleeves down his arms, and then her hands wandered on his torso, her mouth drawing the line of his collarbone. She stepped back until her thighs bumped on the desk, and with a smirk playing on her lips she sat on it. She removed her shoes, then her underwear, Finan observing her with pure lust burning in his eyes. She took his hand and led him between her knees, welcoming his lips.

“I hope you’re not planning on making a habit of this.” She said between kisses along his jaw while working on pulling down his trousers and boxer just enough and he on the zip at the back of her dress so she could remove the sleeves. 

“As if ya’d mind?” He grinned, unclasping her bra and tossing it on the floor. 

She chuckled, lying down on the desk, Finan kissing a hot line from her stomach to shoulder, his mouth paying enough attention to her breast to make her sigh contentedly. She could feel him hard between her thighs and she couldn’t help but rub herself against him, provoking his deep growl that vibrated against her skin. He grabbed her hips roughly, adjusting her before finally guiding himself in her, his palm then travelling up her body as they both moaned. Saegyth’s legs encircled his hips and her hand gripped her own hair as he began to thrust, firmly gripping her waist. His movements were frank and quickly built an euphoric feeling in her mind, and she prayed for none of her coworkers to unexpectedly come back to their office for whatever reason as she found herself unable to not express her pleasure.

Finan leaned down to her, kissing and nipping the soft skin of her neck between his groans, his breath heavy as the sound reached her ears. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to feel his body more against hers, the warmth of it as it grazed over hers regularly, making her lose her mind. Her hand slid in his thick hair, fingers pulling it lightly as she came apart, her thighs tightening around his hips and his name falling from her lips. In a last deep thrust, Finan came as well, his forehead pressed against her shoulder. 

He started to chuckle, still out of breath but utterly satisfied, his body heavier on Saegyth’s while her fingers were brushing the nape of his neck. She turned her head so she could nuzzle his messy hair, the smell of his perfume still keen. 

“Ya should work late more often.” He said with a smirk, pushing himself up to see her face. “And let me come here with dinner.”

“I doubt I would really work.” She laughed, but a tender kiss shut her up.

“T'would be just for a break.” He grinned, moving away to put back his boxer and trousers correctly. 

She shook her head in amusement and sat up. She pulled him toward her, her arms wrapping around his waist and her head resting against his chest, the sudden need to hug him overwhelming her. He immediately embraced her with his strong arms and she sighed appreciatively as he kissed the top of her head. 

“I think I’m going to continue this tomorrow. I really need a bed right now.” Finan growled and she looked up to find him smiling broadly. “To sleep.” She specified. 

“Of course, darlin’.” He replied, trying to act as innocent as he was able to. 

Once they were properly dressed again, they went back to their flat. Half true to her words, Saegyth let herself fall in bed as soon as they were home but didn't find the will to push Finan away when he started to kiss a path down between her legs. They fell asleep, body tangled together, the pleasant feeling of exhaustion running through their veins after sex, later than she had planned. But she definitely wasn't regretting it.

Tag: @poguesmaybank @tlksmut @finansarms @obipoelover @geekandbooknerd @maggiescarborough

#the last kingdom #finan #finan the agile #tlk #fanfiction #finan smut #modern fic #finan fanfiction #finanxoc

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary: Shouta is away fro business, and Shinso and (Y/n) are left alone for the day. In a brilliant idea, (Y/n) convinces Shinso to train to be able to pin him down. Things turn stressful when she gets another cryptic text...and...is that a picture of Shinso on her phone? No way.

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: Please enjoy this, also long update lol. We are getting to the good stuff we have been waiting for, in this slow burn.    

Warnings: fihgting, blood, kidnnaping, violence

Last Chapter: Nine

Next Chapter: Eleven 

The Connect

  “HELP!!!” Hizashi screamed, shaking the house down with his quirk. I jumped from the bed, landing on my knees. While crossing the hall, I paused. Instead of running straight into the disaster zone, Hizashi's room, I began pounding on the purple-haired pro hero’s door. While it was hard to hear over the seismic waves cracking the foundation, I knew he couldn't just be asleep. Wiggling the handle, Shinso still didn’t answer but instead emerged from the bathroom in a towel.

  “I think it’s a bug.” I had my ears covered, use to this morning routine. Shinso had been staying over more recently since he started a cover job at a daycare to move in on his target. Though I didn't expect to see him in nothing but a towel. What heathen doesn't have a bathrobe when they stay over as much as he does.

  “Hold tight.” He covered his own ears, grabbing a newspaper and marching into Hizashi’s room. The screaming stopped, and I sighed in relief. Lowering my hands, there was a ringing in my ear, but I could still hear Shinso trying to pry Hizashi off his body.

  Taking a step, I felt my chest move. My eyes widened, and I ran back to my room to sling a bra on. While I was there, I fixed my hair into a ponytail and put slippers on. Of course, I trusted Shinso, but I wasn't that comfy to walk around like that. It was foolish to worry about my looks, but my mother was always so pushy about being decent.

Finally cleaned up, I shuffled into the hall, and Hizashi was still holding Shinso in thanks.

  “You’re so brave,” Hizashi clung to the purple-haired man’s leg, in his full hero suit. Hair slicked to the sky and a mic on his throat. It was a rare treat to see him all decked out.

  “If you stopped deafening all the bugs in this house, maybe they’d run off so you wouldn’t get trapped.” I rested my hand on my hip and leaned down. Shinso laughed, tiring to cover it with a cough. “You teaching today, Hizashi?”

  “Yea, I’m running late, actually.” Hizashi looked at his watch, then popped up from the floor. “You two are in charge today. Remember, Shota is in Housu for work, so it’s up to you two not to get into any trouble.”

  “Of course. Did you pack a lunch?” I dashed to the kitchen, both men following after me. Glancing at the clock, he could spare a few minutes for a meal.

  “No, I’ll figure-“

  “Oh, I can whip something up fast.” I cheered, wanting to return the favor. He was an excellent cook and mother hen. “You cook for me so often, it’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll be fine, (Y/n), I really got to go.” He moved to grab his voice amp tool kit, and I got to work tossing ingredients together.

  “No, I insist, a sandwich and a bag of chips never took too long. I’m al-“ I shoved mayo and siracha in a bowl with some corn.  

  “He doesn’t want your cooking Kitten,” Shinso mumbled, sipping from an Eraser coffee. cup    

  “That’s so mean,” I nearly stopped working, but I kept tossing things together, adding mayo and ketchup. "You won't deter me, Lint Ball. We don't have room for jealousy in this house."    

  “Honey, I got to-“ I shoved the paper bag in Hizashi’s hand, fixing the zipper on his suit.

  “If it sucks, give it to the strays.” I scratched the back of my neck and gave him a quick kiss on the check. “Have a good day at work.”

  “Thank you." Hizashi pecked a kiss on my forehead. He opened the door then pointed from his eyes to Shinso’s. "Shinso, watch her for me.” Hizashi darted to his car, not bothering to tie his boots up.

  I turned to Shinso, who was now in a Deku shirt and some cotton shorts. “What did you mean no one wants my food?” I raised my brow and got into one of the sparing positions we had practiced last week.

  “It’s not mean, it’s just the truth.” Shinso walked right past me into the kitchen. “What? You’re not going to fight me.” He raised his brow, that damned smirk setting me off.

  “I- I’m going to my room.” I stomped my feet, making a show of my distaste. While I wanted to throw him to the ground, it was way too early in the morning. It definitely has nothing to do with how close we got yesterday while training.  

  Once locked away, I opened my window, and sure enough, Hisoka was resting in the flower bed. Tapping my fingers against the spot where his breath has tickled me, I froze. I had accepted Shinso wasn’t a full-on ass, but moments like this were where I wanted to wring his neck. I knew I was a terrible cook, but I was getting better, I had been practicing while home alone. There's no need to tell me what I know to be true. Everyone want's to be the best cook for their partner and friends. With a little more time, I'd be a prized host like Hizashi.  

  “Damn Lint Ball,” I huffed, raking my fingers through Hisoka’s fur. He couldn’t meow like he used too but had made an almost full recovery. That was the one thing I told mom about when I called last night. She didn’t want to talk for long, but she loved hearing about Hisoka, and my training with Sho.

  Hisoka ran off after a few more pets, bounding into the trees. The little rascal. If you could ignore the bald spots on his body, you'd never know he was so close to death.

Closing my window, I curled back in bed, my tummy growling. Shinso would be done eating soon, and then I could make my own meal. If he wanted to be cruel, he could do it without my company.

  “(Y/n), I’m sorry.” Shinso rasped on my door. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

"Go away," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"I could have said it better; I know." He added. I could hear him rest against the door, the lock buckling.

  “It shouldn’t have come out at all,” I countered, sitting up and hugging my lemongrass and lavender pillow. The scent had mostly faded, but I still slept better with it.

  “I apologize. What can I do to make it up to you?” I opened the door and caught him off guard.

  “You can train me to pin you,” I kept a straight face as he just nodded. His eyes scanned me up and down, lingering on the pillow still tucked under my arm.

  “That’s a deal, Kitten.” He shook my hand, then held the back of his neck. “I went ahead and made breakfast for us. Will you please, join me?”

  “Of course,” I beamed, shimming around him. That might have been the first time he apologized for a dick move. So it was time to reward good behavior. Plus, after yesterday, I wanted things to work out. I hadn't been able to let loose since before high school. Being silly and extra reminded what being young was supposed to be like. Not hiding away your quirk or worrying about what bystanders think. Just the pursuit of safe and healthy fun.  

  He had prepared fresh rice, a few pieces of salmon, and a fruit trey. Hell, the strawberries were cut into little hearts. “Did you make this to show off you’re better than me?” I accused him, sitting in the middle like I was used too.

  “I just wanted to do something nice. I’m not always trying to tease you.” He fetched us each a glass of water. While he did that, I dished out my plate, trying to act like I wasn't so impressed with the spread. He had cooked for us as a family before, but this was the first time we didn’t eat separately when it was just the two of us.

  “Thank you then,” I kept my superior nature, and took a small bite. The texture was perfect, and the flavor was well rounded. Of course, it was nothing like an iron chef, but he did have skill in the kitchen. “Yes, this is quite adequate.”  

  He choked on his bite and chugged his water. “Just adequate?”

  “It’s delicious Hitoshi, I’m just jerking your chain.” We both giggled, but I froze up.

Chains’. Rattling. Bruised wrists. Swollen ankles. Hitoshi- He was holding my hand across the table. Callused fingers smoothing over my skin, his grip tight. He was strong. Hitoshi was a hero. I was safe with him.

  “Sorry, I just-“ I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping his hand tighter. "Yea, it's a great meal." Dipping my head, I focused on the music notes on the table cloth.

  “Don’t apologize.” When he removed his hand, I noticed I had made an amethyst. The purple stone had rolled from my palm, resting on the center of the table. He didn’t make a move to touch it, instead, acting as if he didn't see it.

  Horrified, I grasped the gem and squished it in my hand, running the dust to the trash can. “It’s like a laying a golden egg. You never know what to expect from the goose. That doesn’t make sense. Whatever, I just- I totally intended…on not making that.” I acknowledged it, breaking the silence.

  “Is that where all that dust in your room comes from?” Shinso went back to eating like nothing odd had transpired. However, his tone was softer, not quite pity, but enough that I could notice he was feeling out the tension.

  “Hitoshi, my room is not dusty,” I crossed my arms, plopping back down. There was no reason for staying upset, it was over now. The food was getting cold.

  “No. The jars of sand or dust,” he clarified, handing me another piece of fish.

  “Oh, I make a few gems every morning to stay on my game, then I crush them. It feels wrong to just toss them out all the time. No one was supposed to know about that, but I trust you, Lint Ball.” I took a large bite, “now tell me why you were in my room?”

  “No reason.” He calmed up, sipping his water.

  “Liar,” I slammed my water back and quickly finished my meal. “Didn't think I'd be so preceptive? Alright, I’ll let it go for now. But you have to tell me once I pin you down.”

  “Why do you want to pin me so badly?” The impish grin on his face was almost cute. He was about to have a world of hurt.

  “I wanna show you how humiliating it is to be pinned every other breath. I intend to use this knowledge to my full benefit. So prepare for ambushes.” I took my dish to the sink, putting away the leftovers.

  “If you tell me about an ambush, it’s no longer an ambush.” He grinned, finishing off his meal. “Alright, let’s get started.” He put his plates in the sink and knocked his hip into mine. Scouting over, he took over dished. "Go get changed."

  “I’m actually excited about this,” I scurried to my room. I pulled on some capris and an oversized pink tee. It was chilly outside, so I put a long sleeve shirt under it.

  Shinso changed into a black long sleeve shirt and some cargo pants. Somehow he managed to finish the dishes and still changed faster than me. He was waiting by the door, his shoes on already, and he had my shoes pulled out and ready.

Once outside, we squared up in the garden. Before that, I stopped to watch Hisoka bath in the sun, rolling in the grass and pawing at the leaves around him. Shinso took a pic on his phone and then sat it to the side so we could get started.

  “First things first, always be aware of how your body is lined up with mine.” He paused, examining my stance. “Spread your legs a little wider, and put your left leg forward.” He walked around me, resting his hand on my stomach. “Feel the tension in your stomach; you want to use that energy. When you come at me, grab my waist and wrap your legs behind my knees, using your body to take me down.”

  “Um okay,” I nodded, trying to think about how that would work. His hand was so warm on my stomach, the energy doubling there. I wondered about how, with one touch, I could feel more powerful. Shinso was back in position across from me. Bouncing on my heels, I waited for him to strike at me. When he didn't move, I grabbed his waist and just slammed him to the ground. Sitting on his chest, I hovered around his chest.

  “That’s not quite right, but we can work on it.” Shinso tapped my leg. “Bring this up onto my stomach, and bring your other leg out for balance.”

  “Won’t that hurt?” I asked, adjusting myself to barely apply pressure to him.    

  “You want to pin me, right?” he reminded me. “Now, grab both sides of my shirt while crossing your arms.” He was entirely under me now, and when I applied pressure on his shirt, it choked him.

  “Hitoshi, that’s scary.” I let him go and leaned back, trying to find a place to put my hands that wasn't his torso. “Despite popular belief, I don’t want to strangle you.”

  “You need to practice, now you’ve left yourself venerable.” He smirked, gripping my knee, pinning me with a quick flip.

  “Snap.” I gasped, his pelvis was right on mine, my knees in the air on either side of him, his arms around my throat applying zero pressure. "Toshi." I pouted, trying to squirm free.

  “Let's try again.” He grinned, giving me instructions on how to get out of my predicament.

When that done, we moved on. This time Shinso had me sit behind him, and get my legs under his, and put a seatbelt around his chest. It was so toned and tight. Of course, I had fought off every urge to ogle him this morning, but the mystery was killing me.

  “Try applying pressure to my throat.” I did for a few seconds till he made a small noise of discomfort. “Good. Here’s the counter.”

  He pulled my thumb, and I let loose. The leaves helped him slide away from me, then got behind me, locking his arms and legs around mine, balancing me while on his back.  

  “Holy crap,” I laughed, unable to fight against the hold. Then my calf contorted in pain. “Cramp cramp cramp cramp.” He let go, and I jumped up, walking it out. “Shit. Fuck fuck, fuck.” I cursed, limping around in a circle.

  “Hold still,” he stopped me, and bent down to my calf and started to rub the muscle.

  “That hurts,” I collapsed down, his motions stopping long enough for me to stretch out. Rubbing my temple, I twisted my ankle, trying to ease the charlie horse.

  “It’s going to feel better in a few minutes, Kitten.” Hitoshi purred, working his fingers deep into my tissue. “Are you drinking plenty of water.”

  “Probably not. Besides, the USJ was a rough work out.” I wheezed through the throbs of pain. “Hey, it's easing up a bit.”

  “You should listen to me more often.” He hummed, kneading his hands up my thigh, caressing the entire area. His rough fingers were magic tools, ebbing the pain away. My head lulled back, resting it under my arm. Even when the cramp released, I kept quiet. I loved being doted on, and this was so nice.

  I nearly swooned when he started to work on my other leg, but I didn’t say anything. It was healthy, two young people sitting in the leaves sharing a massage… yea, this was fine. Friends did this. Shinso probably knew my other leg was on the verge of cramping, and it was okay. He owed me a few acts of servitude or some shit. I just want the ball of energy in my stomach to relax. This was so nice and normal...

My phone buzzed by my water bottle, and I grasped it, turning on the screen. Thankfully we laned by our stuff, but it wasn't a good message. It was another cryptic picture, a knife resting in an apple, and the letter o. Then another image came, and I froze.

  It was a purple blob... Shinso’s hair. Another picture, it was my thigh, a hand resting on my knee. Next came a pic of me looking at my phone. “Hitoshi…” I handed him my phone, sitting up and scooting closer. I held onto his shirt, trying not to shiver. “What, what do we do?” I whispered, clutching his arm.

  “We go inside.” He stood, both us raising at the same time, his arm locked around my waist. He looked around, keeping me tight to him. We were out in the open and there was no safe side.“When I say run, do it.”

  “Where?” I asked, gripping even harder. My legs felt better, but I was still shaking.

  “Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in. Call Aizawa.” He kept glancing around, then he stopped, narrowing in on the trees by the pond “Now.”

  “Now?” We were just fifty feet from the door, but I couldn’t let go.

  “Yes.” Hitoshi nudged me forward. I froze, looking at him for guidance. "I'll be okay." He assured me. With a deep breath, I sprinted towards the door. All hell broke loose. A few masked people jumped out, and Hitoshi didn't have his scarf. He was in trouble. There were even people near the house.

  I made inside before the creeps could move to block the door. I locked the bolt before anyone could grasp it, and I could feel the handle jiggle. The plan was out the door, and I grabbed Hitoshi’s scarf, peeking outside the window.

  A man popped up and busted through the glass. Switching gears I went to the front door again. Busting it open, the man met me at the threshold, and I slammed hot coal into his face before he registered what happened. Stomping his foot, I broke free running to Shinso.

  “Hitoshi!” His eyes bugged out of his head, I tossed the scarf. He caught it, quickly gaining the upper hand. Relief washed over me, but it was too soon.

  “Got her!” The man I burned, wrapped his arms around me. I stomped his foot again and held coal to his crotch till he dropped.

  Stumbling forward, I ran towards the forest like in practice. “Kitten, wait-“ A basket wove around me and tightened like a Chinese finger trap. I rolled a few times and started to burn my way through fast as possible.

  A man in a black trench coat hovered over me. “Are you sure this is the right girl? She’s making coals.”

  “That’s her boss,” more goons had appeared, and Shinso was swamped with seven different opponents. “The boss said she’s had two quirks, and not to be fooled.”

  “Your Tusuki’s daughter, right child?” The man knew my father’s name, and I knew they meant business. I could hear Shinso struggling behind me, and I just closed my eyes.

  “Please leave him alone. I’ll go with you- “ I was kicked in the stomach. Spitting up, I lost my breath.

  “I said, are you his daughter?” The man wove a trap around my throat, and it got tighter and tighter as I fought it.

  “I-“ What was I supposed to say. I could deny it and be killed outright or be hurt worse. Shinso hadn’t used my name aloud. There was room to- the trap cut off my air, and I shrank in agony. Black spots tugging at my vision. “Yes.” The binding loosened, but it wasn’t enough to breath easy,

  “Wrap her up.” The 'boss' of this group walked away, two goons grabbing my cocoon. They referred to another boss, but this was my problem at the moment.

  “Stop it.” I kept burning the basket with my coals, but the wooden strips kept reforming and wrapping around my hands. “Hitoshi. Hitoshi run!” I begged. The neck wrap closed up, and I gagged on my own saliva. Hitoshi had all but one man down. Damn it. He was so close… he had a chance to run.

 “Daddy, I didn’t mean for them to take me.” I cried into his chest, both of us chained to the wall. They had taken him from the hospital the week before, and now they had me.

  “It’s okay, baby. What do they know?” He nuzzled my neck, his entire body bruised, deflated, and cut from producing so many gems. Even holding me was straining his body.

  “They know, most of it.” I cried. “They said’ they’d kill my friend.”

  “Sometimes, you have to give in to the captors…I wish I had taught you more, sweetie.” He cried small lapis tears.

  “Daddy, I was trained as a hero, and yet I didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know what to do. Should I have fought them?”  

  “No. We just need to survive long enough to go home.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll get home.”    

  Daddy. He died in that cell, right next to me. Because he didn’t have the strength to survive…I need to keep fighting. I can’t make this easy. Even if I’m passing out, I can still bite. Chomping down on a goons wrist, he screamed, dropping me. The other man lost his grip, and once I was down, I started to roll.

  “Get her.” The boss yelled, but I keep going, with no end in sight. There were no breaks or control, just pure momentum. It was then I noticed the small ledge a few ahead. The binding was getting tight, but I could still shift, but I couldn't stop myself from being air born. If I survived the fall, I'd be lucky to keep my head from busting on a rock.

  “Kitten,” the velvet voice of a hero. A tight scarf wrapping around my ankles. The whirling bouncing motion stopped. Jerked back, I slide a small way forward again, finally still. While I got my bearings, Hitoshi had knocked out both goons. He kneeled beside me, pulling at the brace on my throat—his finger wedging between the tight wood and my skin—desperately clawing at the fibers.  

  “Not so fast. In less you want to watch her be decapitated, you’ll listen.” The boss had the weave move up and over my lips and nose. Then he had a wrap slither around Hitoshi.  

  “Alright, just tell me what you want with her?” Shinso relaxed, stepping back from me. Toshi's binds were still growing around him, but he’d be immobile. He gave me a reassuring nod, and I tried to hid how much I was smothering.

  “Nice try, you think-“ The boss dazed over.

  “Release your quirk.” Hitoshi spat, and the boss did as told. Hitoshi’s bind was first released, then the one of my throat and finally my body.

  “Thank God.” I gasped, undoing the scarf at my feet, rubbing my throat, taking deep breaths. Assessing myself, I kicked the wood away and rubbed my eyes. A twig snapped in the brush. Booking my ass next to Hitoshi, I got to my feet and hid behind him. I peered at the boss over his shoulder; he was glazed over and just standing still. His finger would twitch every now and then, but this was the power of Shinso's quirk.

  “Tell me who sent you.” Hitoshi examined my neck, running his fingers up and down my throat. Keeping his quirk activated and interrogating the man was easy as breathing to him. How he was able to think about my injuries and stay in control was so cool.

  “We were contracted. I don’t know their name.” The man answered.

  “Who all knows of this location?” Hitoshi pushed my disheveled hair out of my face and wiped the dirt from my forehead. My skin had swollen around where the band had been, so he was gentle when cleaning that area.

  “Only my group.” The man’s hand twitched with more force. I gripped Hitoshi’s shirt, and he nodded it was okay.

  “Why didn’t you tell your employer. What was your goal?” Hitoshi grabbed his scarf and began to tie the man. I missed his warmth, the soothing smell that so familiar and yet far away.  

  “I realized the target was the daughter of one of my past projects. Tsuki (L/N), he was able to make precious gemstones. The cilent said she could make diamonds. She was worth more than the money from the job.”

  “I see. How many men did you bring with you?” Hitoshi finished his knot and pushed his hair back.

  “Nine.”

  “Hitoshi.” I jumped in front of him, a smoke bomb bursting on my chest. I curled around it, trying to mask the fog and keep Hitoshi’s vision clear. The heat building under me was unbearable, but it wasn't hurting me. My body was used to hot coals, I just need to focus on something else till this bomb simmer down. Changing gears thought about how my toes were sore and coming to life after being upside down. The sweat pouring down my neck. How hard it was to breathe in the fruity mist.  

  “Show yourself,” Shinso commanded, standing over top of my body. Another smoke bomb was launched. I created a coal tossing it, displacing the bomb in the air, sending it back into the forest. “Nice aim, Kitten.”

  “Only the best,” I wheezed the burning under me finally over. “Nine o’clock.”

  “You mean three,” a man emerged, he was dressed much more… well covered less than his comrades. Smoke was emitting from his body. “So you can brainwash your opponent’s once they answer a question. And you can make pretty little diamonds, and now I see coals. Wow, what a perfect little swan, just waiting to be scooped up by a stern master.”

  “What’s your name?” Shinso asked but was met with radio silence. “You clearly know a bit about our power, care to share what yours is?” Shinso spread his legs, and I crawled from under him. There was a small burst of fog, but nothing too thick.

  “All you villains thinking I’m just a sitting duck.” I wiped the blood from my lip. “But we already took down your boss and your friends. What makes you so special.” I crouched on one knee, one hand to the earth. Focusing.

  “What makes you think he was the ring leader.” The nearly nude man’s butt jiggled as he saluted me. He went on and on about his history as a villain, and I pushed a string of ruby under the earth. There was no reason it would or wouldn’t work, but I had this numb feeling in my hand that said it just might.    

  “Are you going to on all day?” Hitoshi’s scarf was tied up at the moment, and he vulnerable. We both were.

  There. I found where his foot was, and I shot the gem up in a corkscrew, pushing it around and through his calf. “What the hell,” the man screamed, his hand tossing bombs at us. I stopped my gem trap halfway up. Yet I failed to deflect the smoke that fell over us.

  The air quality dropped. “Hitoshi?” I couldn’t see him. “Hitoshi.” I leaned down and breathed through my shirt. There was a shattering snap. Then a shadow looming through the fog. The man reared his foot back and kicked my stomach. Still, I could see his other leg was bleeding and noticeably stiff.

  An emerald rod shot from my wrist, and I caught it. I used the weighted log and smacked it across the man’s face. He stumbled back but pushed more smoke in the area. My vision clouded I was filtering the air with my shirt again, just trying to get my bearings.

  “Kitten?” Hitoshi was coughing in the distance. How'd he get so far away?

  “Here- shit,” I dodged a kick and rolled deeper into the fog.

  “Where are you kids?” Hizashi was home. "BABIES?" Hizashi knew not to use out names, but it was already too late for that.

  “Over here,” I hollered, attracting the villain to my position. This time he kicked my chest, his foot digging into my breast. A gurgled scream left me, and I was putty long enough for him to grab my collar.

  “Heavy bitch.” He groaned, buckling under my weight, trying to get me to my feet.

  “Ass less chaps went out of style years ago,” I murmured, pressing my palm to his butt check, shoving a gem through the muscle and into the earth. He dropped me, but I put my hands down and forced a ruby cork and a sapphire out the other, sewing it in and out of the man’s legs. He screeched at the top of his lungs, shoving more smoke down my throat. Pulling my hair and clawing at my eyes, but I avoided most of his hits.

  “ROCK ON!” Mic’s voice washed out the fog. I covered my ears and rolled away with the airflow. Once his quirk stopped, I got up and saw Hitoshi and Hizashi jogging my way.

  “I did it,” I said, pointing to my jewels holding the man down in pain. “I-“ black spots flooded my vision, and I waivered, stumbling over my feet. “I went plus ultra.” My headache was building; I had survived with a little help.

#shinso #Shinsou #shinso x reader #erasermic #eraser family #tw #x reader #enemy to friends to lovers #spar #growth #my hero acadamy #bnha x reader

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Almost Fate P1

Forty Quinn x Reader

Warnings: Death of a textbook, I wrote a swear and drinking.

Notes: This was requested. Honestly, you can just skip to any of the ~ if you’re not interested in me dragging the story. I like Forty but I also get carried away.

You started your morning off poorly.

For one, your alarm clock had failed to go off. For what reason? You didn’t know. All you did know was that you were late for your class.

You grabbed your bag, stuffed some important-looking papers in and shoved your text book on top of it all. The zipper had become stuck but you continued your rush throughout your dorm-room anyway.

Your legs felt sore as you ran across the campus to reach your classroom. Luck was definitely not on your side as you found the door locked.

You knew this was a risk. Your professor locks the door after attendance because they’re an asshole.

No—no, no... it’s not their fault. This is your fault. You always made it to class by the skin of your teeth; it was about time you’d learn your lesson and, hopefully in the future, realize you have to wake up at a decent time.

With the end of the semester fast approaching and no other classes left in your day, you thought: “I should probably finish my homework.” Having something to hand in next class could help with today’s late incident.

But as you swung your bag over to peer inside, your textbook in-turn swings itself into the nearest and dirtiest puddle you could imagine.

You stand there for a moment as the water seeps into the pages of the textbook.

You just stand there. And stare.

Did that really just happen?

After a moment or so to recollect yourself and calm the fire burning beneath your skin, you grab the textbook like a bear catching some salmon. But, you know, with your very-much-human hands.

Despite it all, you remain calm on the outside. Your heart is racing as you shake the textbook, wanting to get as much water off of it as possible. It’s becoming tedious.

Lucky for you, you know how to remedy this particular situation, so you dump the textbook into the nearest trash bin.

You secure your bag on your shoulder, take a deep breath, and make your way back to your dormitory.

~

In the room, you find nothing has changed since you rushed out. Your duvet is nowhere in sight, you left scattered papers on the floor, and a pile of dirty shirts sits on the end of your bed.

Oh how you miss the days you lived with your mother.

Beep Beep.

Oh. You’re also pleasantly surprised to find your phone still on your nightstand. Without wasting any more time, you drop your bag and make your way to your phone.

The notification reads:

<F/N>

Meet us at Jerry’s!! @ 7 pm

Jerry’s? What the hell is Jerry’s? You prod your friend a little more, trying to get your hands on an address.

The greatest thing to happen thus far? An instant reply with a place to be. Thank god for that.

A party seems like the best place to get your mind off of things, but you feel hesitant and wonder if studying whatever papers you shoved into your bag seemed like a smarter choice...

Oh well! Seeing your girlfriends is more appealing anyway.

~

You’re lost.

After the taxi dropped you off at the wrong address, you had to search for it on foot yourself.

You walked around with your phone out, searching for this apartment building... but this street had none.

Did your friend really just give you the wrong address? How could you be so stupid as to not double-check?

Yoink!

Some stranger with a baseball cap decides to run by. They’re fast as they grab your purse along the way and you find yourself spinning before hitting the ground hard. Your phone slips out of your grasp and slides across the pavement.

“HEY!” You shout towards the already disappearing figure. And there goes your keys and wallet.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! This is fine.

You’re accepting that this just happened, despite how angry you fucking are at this very moment.

You stand up, brush the dirt off your skirt and make your way to your phone.

You regret picking it up because you’re now faced with broken glass and a barely readable screen.

Going home now is ridiculous, but there’s no way you’re rubbing fingers on this device to try and get to this stupid party.

There’s a glowing sign in your vicinity that catches your attention.

~

You step through the doors of the building with the glowing sign, which so happened to be a very clean looking bar, and made your way to the bartender with a mission.

You pat the wooden counter with your hand. “Do you have a landline I can use?”

“No, sorry.” He replies.

Damn it.

You check your pockets. Or, well... you don’t have pockets, but you do have a secret hiding spot.

Your hand slips into your bra and you find yourself with 2 dollars.

“What can I get with this?” You ask as you sit down at a stool. You’ve clearly never been in a bar before.

The bartender looks you up and down before reluctantly turning around.

“Come here often?” An unfamiliar voice slips into the scene.

You turn your head to the right and smile. “Only when I need to make a call.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

You drop the broken device onto the counter. “Not anymore.”

“I guess that eliminates asking for your number then.” He takes a sip of his drink.

You force a laugh and shake your head. “Funny.”

A glass of water is set in front of you. You can’t help but sigh. Pitiful.

The stranger signals something to the bartender, but you don’t pay it any attention. You’re already taking your glass of water to one of the booths, not forgetting the broken phone.

The stranger finishes his drink with a swig.

The booth is soft and you’re now the most comfortable you’ve been all day.

The water is room temperature, but who really cares anymore? Definitely not you.

“Heyy!” The stranger from before makes his way into your booth. He sets down two identical drinks. “Here’s a drink. Because I’m such a sweetheart, it’s on me.” He’s smiling innocently.

Has this guy ever heard of personal space?

You take a moment to look at him before saying what’s on your mind. “I appreciate the gesture, really. But I don’t even know you.”

“The name’s Forty!” He instantly replies. “Now you have to say your name, as goes a normal greeting.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” You’re being sarcastic now, bordering on playful with your smile.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. I have talked to a lot of people before.” And so is he.

“My name is Y/N.” You look down at the drink in front of you and then back into his eyes.

“I didn’t put anything in it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He states. “Ask the bartender if you still doubt this pretty face.” Now he’s exaggerating a frown.

You have to admit, he’s got an interesting aura to him and you can’t help but drag your drink closer to yourself.

Forty smiles happily and rests his cheek on his fist.

“So, Y/N. What brings you to this particular bar on this particular night?” He asks.

“Well, Forty. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” For this, you’re gonna need a couple more drinks.

~

Time is going by quickly, but you’re too dissociated with the world around you to notice. Realistically, it was probably only 11 pm at night, but you wouldn’t know.

Forty was fun to talk to. You two chatted it up with some drinks, talking about your day and eventually talking about Forty’s day.

“I started off my morning like any other... rolling off my bed and probably bitching about it.” You couldn’t help but subtly laugh. Forty was the type to appreciate it, though. He made these remarks purposefully. “Then I got myself some—“

“Green juice? That stuff you mentioned liking earlier?” You continue for him.

“Yes, exactly. Wow, we’re already thinking alike.” He gazes at you for a moment before continuing. “Green juice. Yeah, I get myself some green juice to start off. Breakfast was kind of lame, I think I had something with spinach in it.”

You take a sip of your drink as you lazily watch him.

“Then I made my way to the whole foods store as it opened for the day. Without me, the place would totally fall apart.” He’s sounding very confident about his position there. “My sister works there too. She’s like an aspiring chef.”

“That’s cool.” Your head is becoming heavier and heavier as he speaks.

“Then I called my dad, hoping he’d pick up. Took me about 7 tries but he eventually did.” That confidence he had is starting to slip. “Didn’t like the proposal I had for my next project.”

You can tell he’s feeling hurt, but you can barely hold your head up. “It’s gonna be.. okay.” You eventually manage to mumble out.

Forty is watching you intently. He seems perfectly fine, no swaying of the head or sleepiness in his eyes. The only indicator that he’s been drinking is his slightly slurred speech.

Oh! What’s that? That’s a weird feeling. Forty has his hand on your knee, but you only really felt it when it started to slide itself up.

“Y/N.” He’s eyeing you now. “Do you believe in fate?”

You don’t reply. Well, more like you can’t reply. You’ve had one too many drinks and your mouth feels numb.

“I think...” He scoots closer. “I think it’s fate that lead us here.”

“I... don’t know.” You finally reply to his question.

“You don’t have any money, am I right? I mean, you said it yourself, that guy with the baseball cap took your purse.”

You’re being silent again.

Forty takes out folded up money and slides some onto the table. “It’s yours.” He states.

This feels wrong... but you really do need the money, now that your wallet was stolen. Getting yourself a new textbook and phone flips through your mind and taking the money doesn’t feel all that bad anymore. You reach out to pick it up. Before you can, he slides it back to himself.

“Ah, ah. But I want something in return.” He’s got a playful look in his eye and a shit eating grin. You’re feeling uneasy again.

“Kiss me.”

Is that it? You’ve kissed before, it’s hardly your first one... but intimacy means something to you. What does it mean for him?

You force your head up and straighten your back. Your vision blurs for a moment, but that’s hardly important right now. “Okay.”

Forty is still grinning and waiting. None of you pull a move and he can’t help but wander his eyes across you. “Are you going to do it?”

Oh, he expected you to engage? Okay... you can do this.

You lean forward slowly, trying not to stir your brain any more than you already have. He’s very still, only his eyes are moving along with you. One of your hands balances itself onto the table while the other hangs onto the booth’s seat. You’re leaning forward, getting closer.

Forty seems amused by your drunken state and naturally begins to lean in as well.

Your lips softly touch, but not much other happens.

You pull away from him and he happily boops your nose with his finger. “You’re a cute one.”

If your face wasn’t already flushed, it definitely is now.

“Do you need a ride home?” He suddenly asks innocently. “This place closes soon. I have a driver who could bring you home.”

You smile along with him. “That would be nice... Th-Thank you.”

Forty brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face before leaning in and giving you another peck on the lips. You didn’t pull away, so he continued.

You couldn’t quite tell how you felt over the situation, but you let it happen anyway. All you really felt was tired.

He suddenly gets a text message, halting his kisses and checks his phone. “Rides here. Raincheck?”

He wanted to see you again? Oddly enough, despite only meeting him that night, you were flattered and looking forward to it. “That sounds like a plan.”

You both get up and get ready to leave. You were kind enough to bring your empty glasses to the bartender, but Forty had to help you the entire way. Gravity seemed to be working extra hard tonight.

Forty helped you outside as you stumbled around like a child learning to walk. He imitated your awful drunken stance, but you took it lightly.

You both laughed at yourselves on your way to the car.

#forty quinn #forty quinn x reader #you #x reader #reader #fanfiction #love quinn #joe goldberg

[thatesqcrush]

Deseos de la Navidad

Rafael Barba x Reader.  AN: Prompt #2 (Decorations) from the @thefanficfaerie Christmas OTP challenge found here. CW: Angst, talk of loss/death of family member. Reference: SVU, S.16, E.16 “December Solstice.”

Tags: @theenchantedgalleryofstories @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @kscarlett1 @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid - anyone else just ask.

****

As a child, Rafael Barba loved the Christmas season. He loved getting to open a present on Noche Buena and feasting on lechon asado (which took all day to make), ropa vieja, moros y cristianos, maduros and arroz con leche. He loved hearing his grandmother tell stories about Cuba and if he was particularly good, she would let him have a sip of the heavily spiked crema de vie.

Rafael had been having a hard time getting into the festive spirit after his grandmother passed away, especially since he felt as if it were his fault.

This was the first Christmas he wasn’t single, however. The DA’s office had a mixer and that was how the two of you met. He worked with SVU; you worked in white collar crime. The two of you bonded over a discussion of Macallan rum while being miserable at the much forced work/social event.

While Rafael was grateful to have met you, his heart was hurting. He had longed for his abuelita to meet you. After she had passed, his mother gave him the engagement ring his grandmother wanted him to give to you. He carried the ring with him for weeks; though he still intended to ask for your hand, the ring felt like a stone dragging him down. Subconsciously, as a result, he distanced himself from you.

That morning, he woke up after another night of restless sleep. The clock read 4am and it was still pitch black outside. Carefully, so as to not to disturb your sleeping form, Rafael crawled out of bed and got ready for work.

You woke up startled. Seeing the empty spot next to you, you looked at the clock - 5:30 AM. You sighed, before collapsing back into bed, pulling the comforter over your head.

****

Two and a half hours later, you padded around the kitchen, ready to grab your purse when you noticed yesterday’s dinner untouched and uneaten on the counter. With a sigh, you tossed the plate of salmon and buttery potatoes (that had congealed) into the trash.

You knew grief was full of ups and downs - fits and starts. It was anything but a linear path. You could tell when Rafael was having a good day - he was jovial and confident. Other days, he appeared weary, as if the weight of the world was his burden. You tried to give Rafael as much space as he needed to process. As much as you were tempted to, you didn’t want to fall prey to the temptation of filling the silence with platitudes.

You headed out of the apartment and made way to get breakfast at the local coffee shop. If you knew Rafael well - which you did - you knew he hasn’t had breakfast. The DA’s office wasn’t far, so you carried a tray over - a large black for Rafael, a soy latte for Carmen and a flat white for yourself. In your other hand was Rafael’s favorite: a guava and cheese croissant, a rift on his favorite pastry growing up.

You walked down the hallway towards his office. The DA’s office was surprisingly quiet, but you knew that would soon change. You rapped softly, before entering.

“Carmen, I said no interruptions,” Rafael barked before looking up. His gaze subtly softened. “Cariño.”

“You were gone early. Didn’t get to say goodbye. I brought you something to eat,” you replied softly.

“Thanks but I’m not hungry,” Rafael grumbled before going back to his notes. “I’ll take the coffee though.”

You sat down in the chair in front of his desk and pushed the coffee and bakery bag in front of him.

“You aren’t taking care of yourself amor. You came home late last night, you haven’t shaved,” you continued eyeing the more than a 5 o’ clock shadow Rafael sported “and you didn’t eat because the leftovers in the fridge —“

“I said I wasn’t hungry! Drop it,” Rafael snapped, cutting you off. He looked up and saw the expression on your face. You gave him a small tight lipped smile and nodded.

“I’ll see you at home,” you replied, standing. At the doorway you paused to look behind you and saw that Rafael had resumed his writing. You nodded once more and shut the door behind you with a click.

Rafael looked back up as the door shut with a click. He sighed and tossed his pen onto the desk, his head falling into his hands.

***

Back at home, you blasted the local radio station that started playing Christmas music early. You bopped along Rockin Around the Christmas Tree.

You had the Christmas decorations brought up from storage and you had just finished hanging the stockings from the mantle, when a sharp knock interrupted you.

You hit pause on the stereo and then looked through the peephole. You smiled at the visitor and opened the door. “Mrs. Barba! What are you doing here?”

Lucia gave you a look. “Please, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Lucia.” She reached down to pick up a box. “Is Rafi here?”

“No - at the office,” you replied.

“Como siempre,” Lucia replied with a sigh, opening the box. “I was cleaning out my mother’s apartment and I found some of her old Christmas ornaments that she smuggled out of Cuba. These have been in our family for generations. I thought Rafi would love them.”

You gently picked up an frosted glass ball covered in lace. “These are gorgeous; thank you.”

Lucia gave you a warm smile. “You’ve done a lovely job decorating — why are there three stockings though on the mantle?”

You gave her a coy smile. “I haven’t even told Rafael yet,” you confessed. You placed a hand on your stomach.

“Ay dios mio!” Lucia exclaimed, enveloping you into a hug. “This is so exciting! When are you due? How do you feel? ¡Mija, siéntate!”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m only 6 weeks. I’m due August 19th. I feel good; some nausea. Nothing too bad.”

“Oh Rafi is going to be so happy!” Lucia exclaimed.

“I hope so,” you replied. When Lucia cocked her brow, you continued. “He’s been having a hard time since your mother passed.”

Lucia nodded, and walked over to the mantle, gingerly touching the stocking that had Baby Barba embroidered on it. “They were incredibly close. I know he feels guilty about the nursing home.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. Lucia walked up to you and enveloped you into another hug.

****

Rafael wearily shuffled into the apartment. He took off his coat and hung it up, before removing his suit jacket. “Cariño?”

You pressed the button on the remote and the entire apartment lit up in sparkly lights. The apartment was decorated to the nines in Christmas decor.

Rafael was stunned. ‘When did she do all of this?’ he wondered.

“Surprise,” you replied softly, from across the room, by the mantle. “I know you have been having a hard time. And I know nothing I saw will bring her back, and nothing will change that void in your heart, but I just want to bring some joy back into your life.”

Rafael walked up to you. Wordlessly, he pulled you close to him. Your hands on his chest, you breathed in the scent of his cologne. Rafael tipped your head back slightly with his finger and brought his lips down to yours. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue tangled yours. The stubble of Rafael’s unshaved beard irritated your skin.

You hesitantly broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you,” Rafael replied, pushing your hair back.

“Look, your mom gave us your abuela’s ornaments,” you replied, pulling Rafael towards the Christmas tree. You gently tapped a lace ornament.

Rafael’s eyes watered as he took an ornament in his hand. You wrapped an arm around Rafael’s waist and rested your head against him. Rafael kissed the top of your head. He looked behind you and towards the mantle, his eyes tracking the stockings that hung. “There are three,” he noted curiously.

Rafael walked to the third stocking; he looked at you, his eyes watering once more. “It says ... are you?”

You bit your lip, nodding. “Yeah.”

Rafael swept you into his arms once more, twirling you in his embrace. He set you down gently, your back to him, with a hand firmly pressed against your abdomen.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, Rafael apologized, his voice cracking a bit.

“Don’t,” you shook your head. “I understand. It’s okay.”

Rafael pressed a kiss into the slope of your neck. You both watched the decorations and lights sparkle on the tree. Rafael knew somehow, with you by his side, he’d get through this tough time. Rafael also looked forward to the future and the new beginnings that awaited the two of you.

FIN

#barba x reader #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba x reader #barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #christmas otp challenge

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 5

Chapter title: Lazy Sundays and difficult choices Read the previous installments here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3  | Chapter 4 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Cursing, brief mentions of sex but no actual smut A/N: Mostly just some fluffy fluff [daddy Taron feels, yes please] and more relationship drama in this chapter. More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! X

I was awoken the next morning by a cold, wet nose pressed against my arm. It took me a few seconds to process where I even was, crashed out on my own couch in last night’s dress. Again.

Troy whined at me slightly, having waited as long as he possibly could before waking me to be let out. He whuffed at me slightly, looking at me with those deep brown puppy eyes of his.

“I’m up, I’m up,” I groaned as I pushed myself back up to sitting and wiped my hand over my face, smearing the remnants of makeup. I reached over and scratched Troy on the head, and he wagged his tail at me. “You’re a cute boy, yes you are,” I said in that special voice I reserved just for him. I spied a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water on the coffee table; Taron must have done that before he left last night, when I was dead to the world.

I got up and let Troy out to do his doggy business before finding my phone still nestled in my purse where I’d left it. <I am NEVER drinking again I swear to God> I texted Madison.

<What, why? What happened?> Madison instantly texted back, and I could just imagine the worried expression she was making.

<Nothing but I am an absolute IDIOT when I drink, Mads. I have got to stop just throwing myself at guys> I responded.

<Did you and Taron … ?> she texted, waiting for my reply.

<No because he’s a gentleman unlike Markus but the point is I totally would have if he’d taken advantage. But he walked away and now I feel like absolute trash. We had an amazing dinner together and I almost threw the night away. I’m a total moron. Please tell me to never leave this house again.>

<Okay well you’re being a bit ridiculous, for one. It’s a good thing Taron is a gentleman, that means he cares for you more than just physically. I’m sure you being a bit drunk did NOT ruin anything with him. Do you remember what he said, at all?>

<Of course, I wasn’t THAT trashed. He said he didn’t want to take the choice away from me, that he wanted to know it was me and not the wine making me want him…>

<Holy shit, Juliette! So he’s totally into you!>

<When I’m not being a drunk idiot. But in all seriousness, I’m not touching another drop of alcohol for a long time.>

<Until your wedding, eh!!> Madison sent back with the waggling eyebrows emoji, making me blush and squeal out loud at the same time. Troy just looked at me with a concerned expression; he probably thought his human was absolutely mad.

<Oh stop. I can’t think like that and you know it> I texted, blushing hard.

<Yeah I know it, but you should probably stop texting me and start texting Taron … Make sure his ass knows sober you still wants him too> she replied.

<You are too damn much, Mads. What has even gotten into you, giving me all this advice.>

<Look, I’m not blind! The man is fit as fuck and I’m only a little jealous that he’s all heart eyes for you. Don’t blow your opportunity, is all I’m saying, cause there’s about a million fangirls lined up behind you waiting their turn.> Woah, I thought, staring at my phone for a long minute. I had never really thought about it that way. To me, he was just Taron; yes, Taron who could afford nice things and Taron who could act brilliantly and Taron who was impeccably handsome, but he was still just the Taron I’d gotten to know on a very human level. He was kind and sweet and lovely and I fancied him a lot, but a small part of me still wondered why he paid me any attention at all. If it had been any other girl that had bumped into him in the hallway weeks ago, would he be taking them out to expensive meals instead of me?

<Well thanks for the dose of reality. You’re always good for that> I sent back before calling Troy back inside from where he was sniffing along the fence line. I decided to take a shower before doing anything else, turning the water as hot as my skin could take it. Once I felt clean and refreshed, I wrapped myself in a bathrobe and left my hair wrapped up in a towel and walked over to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. I grabbed my phone while that percolated and finally decided to text Taron.

<Good morning! I’m alive, I promise. Also, thank you for dinner last night, it was lovely. I can’t remember if I managed to say that or not but I don’t want to be rude.> I made myself a cup of coffee while waiting for Taron to reply.

<Good morning, love! How are you feeling?> he responded.

<Surprisingly pretty well for how much of that expensive wine I drank last night> I wrote cheekily.

<Would you require sustenance in the way of food? Because I’m completely lusting after those Tongue and Brisket salmon bagels and I could bring some over if you’d like.> Of course Taron would use the term “lust” instead of “crave” and of course my brain would go to thoughts it shouldn’t be thinking, on a Sunday morning no less.

<Yes of course, that’d be lovely> I texted back quickly, trying to calm my whore brain down.

<Should I order something for Clara too?> he asked, being considerate of my daughter.

<She’ll still be at her grandmum’s until afternoon> I wrote back.

<Ahh> was Taron’s simple response. Did I detect a note of disappointment there? I wondered.

<I suppose I could arrange to have her brought home earlier… If you’d like?>

<That’d be brilliant. I’ll be over in an hour or so> he responded. Clara must have made quite an impression on Taron if he wanted to spend more time with her. I texted my mum and made arrangements for her to bring Clara back over early and then quickly got myself ready, slipping into a simple dress and leggings and making sure the house was as clean as it was going to get in an hour. Troy let me know when Taron had arrived before the doorbell rang, prancing excitedly in front of the door, the entire bottom half of him wagging excitedly.

“Out of the way, boy,” I laughed, having to use my leg to try and scoot him back enough so I could get the door open.

“Hi!” I said, answering the door and trying to keep Troy from excitedly attacking Taron with all his doggy love at the same time, so I must have looked slightly flustered. Taron managed to take all of this in stride, of course, and I greeted him warmly once he managed to squeeze inside. I ended up putting Troy outside in the backyard so he wouldn’t be slobbering over our bagels, earning myself a look of betrayal until I tossed him a treat.

I rejoined Taron on the couch, and he had already pulled out our bagels and set them out carefully on the coffee table. “These look amazing,” I smiled and Taron grinned at me.

“Oh, they are amazing,” he grinned, handing me one with the wrapper carefully pulled back. I’d had many good bagels in my life, but the ones he had chosen blew me away. The bagels themselves had the perfect chewy but still moist texture, and the sweetness of the cream cheese balanced the smokiness of the salmon. For a long moment all you could hear were the sounds of our chewing because those bagels were that good.

“I think this bagel may have just changed my life,” I joked around a bite, making Taron chuckle.

“You sure it’s not the company?” he asked with a wink, making my heart stutter slightly in my chest. I tried to recover by taking a massive bite of the bagel so I wouldn’t have to immediately respond, but then I nearly choked and Taron ended up having to thump my back while I coughed, my face red and my eyes tearing up.

“Hey, easy there,” he said, making sure I was okay.

“Hi, have you met me? I’m always awkward,” I said once I could manage to talk again.

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” he teased me lightly. “And yet somehow you’re a brilliant dancer.”

“The world works in mysterious ways, T,” I laughed at that. We chatted a bit longer before my mum arrived with Clara. My mum seemed surprised that Taron was there, raising her eyebrows at me and giving me an “oh?” Clara had gravitated right to Taron, and I saw him giving her a high five, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the house and making me grin.

“Be right back,” I said, grabbing Clara’s bag from my mum and nodding toward the bedrooms so she followed me. “Before you judge anything, no, he didn’t stay the night,” I said in a rush as soon as we were out of ear shot. “He offered to bring bagels this morning and I figured, why not?”

“Dinner last night and breakfast in the morning, dear?” my mum asked, with that tone of voice that meant she thought a lot more than she was saying.

“He’s exceptionally thoughtful and has deep pockets?” I tried as I unpacked Clara’s bag, feeling myself blushing despite myself.

“Oh that boy fancies you so much. He just plays by the old rules of courtship, which is a fat lot better then these young kids who roll up thinking cat-calling a young lady from their car is going to do them any favors,” my mum huffed, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Seriously, mum?” I giggled. “They don’t really do that either. They buy you a drink and expect to get laid and there you have it.”

“Your pappi was a gentleman, through and through. Rather swept me off my feet back in the day,” she said with a far-off smile.

“Why did Pappi leave then?” I asked softly, gently setting one of Clara’s stuffed plushies on her bed and smoothing out the comforter.

“He had his own demons to reckon with, dear. It had nothing to do with how much he loved you or me.”

“I just don’t think I have any of this figured out, mum,” I sighed softly. “I’m more confused now than I ever was. Taron is amazing and every kind thing I could say about him but I don’t feel like I deserve this kindness at all. I feel like we’re from very different worlds.”

“Oh honey, don’t you ever close that door on yourself,” my mum said, crossing the room over to me and placing her hand on my cheek. “You are every bit deserving to be loved and cared for and if that means belonging in Taron’s world, then don’t you dare count yourself out of it. He clearly wants to be here for a reason. And you might even have more in common than you’re aware of right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, giving her a small smile. “I just don’t want to bring him into a world that is messy and imperfect as much as mine is.”

“The world is messy and imperfect, dear. No one can avoid that. But maybe he sees who you are beyond that.”

“I just don’t know,” I said after taking a deep breath.

My mum just smiled knowingly and headed for the door. “Listen to your mum, she knows a thing or two,” she said before returning to the living room again, leaving me to my thoughts. I quickly finished unpacking Clara’s bag before going to let Troy back inside. He excitedly bounded his way to the living room, adding his happy energy to the scene in my living room, Clara squealing and hugging Troy as Taron seemed captivated by them both.

“I will get out of your hair but, it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Egerton,” my mum said, the absolute picture of poise and grace.

“Taron, please,” he smiled, offering to shake her hand but she just gave him a hug instead, which he cutely returned.

“Have a fantastic day, loves,” she smiled before seeing herself out the door.

“Mummy, can we go to the park now?” Clara said in her eternally enthusiastic way. “I want to throw the ball for Troy!” she said, and Troy perked his ears up at the recognized word.

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Taron grinned, looking to me, his face alight. I couldn’t say no to that, so soon enough we were out the door and heading for the park, Clara insisting on taking Troy’s leash and walking ahead of us as Taron and I enjoyed the nice weather of the day.

We let Troy off his leash as soon as we got to the park and took turns throwing his ball for him, which he thoroughly enjoyed retrieving and dropping at our feet.

“I wish I could throw as far as you and mummy!” Clara sighed dramatically to Taron.

“Well, you just need a little practice is all!” Taron grinned, picking up the ball and showing Clara how to step forward and follow through with her arm so the ball would gain some air. She improved a bit, Troy ever faithful in retrieving it no matter how far it did or didn’t travel, but eventually Taron scooped Clara up onto his shoulders and grinned. “Now try it!” he chuckled, and Clara squealed happily at being so high up.

“Watch, mum!” she said, tossing the ball and watching it soar before bouncing a fair bit away.

“Hey you did it!” Taron grinned at me, the whole interaction sending feelings through me that I was still having trouble trying to place. The way Taron was with Clara was just absolutely so sweet, and it really had me swooning. Eventually Troy gave up the game, landing in a fluffy pile and panting heavily, and Taron gently set Clara back on the ground.

“Tag, you’re it!” she said, patting him on the arm and then squealing and running away.

“Well I have to give chase now,” Taron grinned at me before running after her, easily catching up to her and wrapping his arms around her, their laughter traveling to me. I pulled out my phone and snapped that photo too, the joy so evident on Clara’s face it made my heart ache. I only ever wanted my child to know this kind of happiness, and I’d realized long ago I couldn’t provide that joy to her alone.

We wrapped up our time in the park and made the tired walk home, Clara still chatting our ears off about whatever it is that came to her 7-year-old mind. It was so easy to feel like a family at that moment, but I knew that was also dangerous. If Taron didn’t feel the same about any of this, I was setting myself up for a lot of heartbreak, and even more so, I had to protect Clara’s feelings as well.

We made it back to the house and Taron decided it was probably time for him to go so he didn’t wear out his welcome (as if he ever could), so Clara gave him a sweet hug and told him how much fun she’d had, and Taron of course agreed. I let her and Troy into the house to go play before turning to Taron.

“Thank you for today, it was really great,” I said as I faced him, now suddenly level with him as I was on the raised stoop.

“You know, I couldn’t have imagined a better way to spend a lazy Sunday,” he smiled at me, making my heart flutter yet again. “So, see you at rehearsal tomorrow?” he grinned that megawatt grin of his at me.

“Yes you will. It won’t be too long before screen tests and filming,” I said, my voice betraying the nerves I felt over that. It was one thing to rehearse in a studio room; it was another to realize I was actually going to be on film soon.

“It will be great, you’ll see. You’ll be with me and Rich, nothing to worry about,” he grinned.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about at all,” I said sarcastically before he took my hands in his.

“You’ll be as brilliant on screen as you are breathtaking in real life, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Taron,” I said softly, having to stare at the ground until he gently tilted my chin up to gaze in his eyes. They were so light today, nearly peridot in color and sparkling in the sun.

“You’ll see what I see some day,” he smiled, leaning in and kissing me gently. I didn’t realize until that moment that I’d been waiting for him to do that all day. I could feel him smile against my lips, and then I kissed him back, my arms wrapping around his neck and not caring if my nosy neighbor next door, Mrs. Burnham, was watching through her blinds.

We kissed like that until we were both out of breath and giggling. “You take my damn breath away, Juliette,” he whispered sweetly, his breath tickling my skin.

“I’m sure it’s quite the other way around, Taron,” I whispered back.

“Then we’ll just stay breathless together, eh?” he grinned.

“I guess so,” I hedged, not sure I was totally understanding what he was implying.

“I want to keep having these moments with you,” he added, such softness in his gaze that it made something open up in my chest, a place where I had once been loved and yearned to be again.

“I do too, of course I do, but I have to figure some other things out first,” I said uncertainly, as Taron took a small step back from me.

“Like Markus?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you still seeing him?”

“I…Tomorrow, after rehearsal. But that’s not your business really,” I replied.

“You’re right, it’s not, but please let me know when you’re done playing this game with him. He can never give you what I could,” Taron said, and I swore I could feel the jealousy under his words as tiny pinpricks in my skin.

“Um Taron, that’s not-” I said but he started walking away from me, cutting off my words.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Juliette. Good day,” he said over his shoulder, as if I was just another acquaintance and not the person I’d spent my entire morning and day laughing with. I stood on the stoop feeling confused as he got in his car and drove off, but he at least waved and I raised my hand too, completely unsure about my own feelings or his for that matter.

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to steady myself before returning inside, intending to have a good rest of the Sunday with my daughter. And we did have a good day, playing video games and Barbies and unicorns and god knows what else she came up with. She wanted me to help her paint a picture of Elton, so I did my best to help draw an outline of Elton at the piano, though the face came out wonky but she loved it and we hung it up on the fridge when she was done painting. Her love of Elton always made me feel happy inside, like I’d done something right in parenting her at least. The evening flew by and soon I was tucking my daughter in bed and crashing myself, having mixed feelings about rehearsals the next day, especially because I’d agreed to have another date with Markus that evening.

The night passed and soon enough I found myself getting Clara off to school and myself across the city to Paramount, where we’d be setting our choreography on the actual massive set piece they’d built, which was a bunch of steps leading up to what looked like a record. Working the stair steps was its own sort of challenge, but eventually we felt as comfortable dancing on the platform as we had been in the studio. Taron was cordial to me but I felt the coldness behind his demeanor and it hurt me slightly. I knew he was probably just trying to protect himself but I craved the sort of warmth he had brought into my life. But I still felt like I owed Markus one last chance before I “made my choice,” if that was even real. I think it was already clear to everyone but myself who I gravitated toward the most.

When rehearsals were over, Taron brushed past me, saying in a low voice “I should say enjoy your date tonight but I really hope you don’t.”

“Taron, please. This jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” I said.

“How else am I supposed to feel?” he asked, his dark green gaze searing straight into my soul until Richard came by, putting his hands on Taron’s shoulders and laughing about something. I think he realized he’d just interrupted a moment, but Taron just shrugged and smiled at me. “I’ve got to go, later,” he said before excusing himself and leaving with Richard. I felt my a pang in my chest but had to shrug it off.

I made it home in time to shower and slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse and flats, checking in with my mum to make sure Clara was getting her homework done while on the tube back across town again to meet up with Markus. We’d agreed on a low-key pizzeria this time, just wanting a nice sit-down restaurant to try and get to know each other better.

And it actually was a good time, despite my misgivings about how our first date had gone. Markus even apologized for what had happened, saying he should have taken more responsibility and had been incredibly drunk himself.

“I hope you don’t think that I’m just this kind of asshole,” he said gently, his fingers pressed against my knee and his steel grey eyes soft in the table’s candlelight. “We got off to the wrong start and I want to make it right again. I’m not some ‘bro’ trying to get laid. I think you’re gorgeous and smart and incredibly talented and I was swept off my feet when I saw you dance,” he said.

I’d heard those words before but somehow coming from Markus it didn’t quite hit me in the heart the way it had coming from Taron, and I sighed at that.

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” I replied, staring at my hands folded primly in front of me on the tabletop. Markus was kind and lovely so why did he not stir my heart? He was the sort of person I could relate to - the kind of person who I deserved to be with. To think I deserved Taron at all was humor at its highest mark.

“What are you thinking?” Markus asked me, reaching over and wrapping his hands around mine. The gesture was meant to be sweet but I had to fight my initial reaction to jerk away.

“You’re a really sweet guy, Markus,” I smiled at him lightly, obviously unable to tell him I was actually thinking about Taron.

“We have a lot in common, don’t we?” he grinned beatifically at me. I suddenly had the urge to run my fingers through his brunette curls, to see if they were as soft and fluffy as Taron’s hair. My god, I chastised myself, what is my problem?

“We do, but there’s something else you should know,” I said softly, taking a deep breath before delivering the news about my daughter. I waited for Markus’ reaction, scared and anxious that he’d hate that idea and then it would make my choice so much simpler.

“Well, I’d love to meet her some day,” he replied sweetly, and then ended up spending the next half-hour asking me questions about Clara and wanting to see photos of her. I very nearly accidentally showed him the picture of Clara and Taron in the park, and the picture made my heart skip an extra beat when I saw the pure joy on their sweet faces. “What’s that?” he asked, obviously having seen my expression and trying to maneuver himself to look at my screen.

“Uh, nothing,” I said, but he’d already caught a peek at the picture. 

“I could do better, if you’d give me the same chance you gave him,” he said, practically spitting out that last word.

“Do you even want to have a family, Markus?” I asked, a bit exasperated. “Nothing about our conversations has made me believe you’d suddenly want that responsibility. Clara mostly stays with me, you know. This wouldn’t be a part-time position and I have to do what’s best for her.”

“So you’ve already decided then?” he asked, grimacing slightly.

“I never said that,” I sighed, running my hands through my hair, which had dried into its natural soft waves.

“I know you don’t feel the same way about me, but he’s not the one in front of you right now. I am. So give me that chance to try and be that for you, because I think this could be really, really great,” he pleaded with me, making me once again feel guilty for the thoughts I’d been having. Had it really been that obvious? I wondered.

“Markus, I …” I started, not really sure what to say.

“Just don’t shut me out, okay? Let’s go on more dates. Hell, go out on dates with whats-his-face too. I’m not even jealous. All I can be is here for you. And may the best man win anyway, right?” he asked, making me sigh heavily. A battle of the boys was not even remotely what I had signed up for.

“It’s Taron. His name is Taron,” I said a bit weakly.

We wrapped up our meal soon after, mostly because I needed to go retrieve my daughter from my mum’s but also because the conversation had suddenly dried up. He kissed me on the cheek and wished me a good eve and I had far too much time to think as I rode the tube alone across the city. What the hell had I just gotten myself into? 

I was so relieved to find myself distracted with my daughter for the rest of the evening, trying to leave thoughts of Taron and Markus both out of my mind. I was crap at matters of the heart and I knew that; I hadn’t grown up seeing a loving relationship between my parents so knowing what to choose now just made me feel anxious and overwhelmed. Markus was sweet and kind and understood me, but I didn’t exactly have deep feelings for him. Taron, on the other hand, took my breath away but was so beyond me it hurt to acknowledge. What would he even be able to make out of my chaotic life? He didn’t need me bringing him down, that was for certain. But oh, how he could make me feel, and I hadn’t even slept with him.

These thoughts lingered in my mind through the entire night and well into my classes the next day. I at least could forget my troubles in 45-minute intervals, fully focused on my students as I led them through chasses and adagios.

I had a fun surprise for my 5-year-old class, gathering them around me to read a ballet storybook I’d found at the Waterstones a few days before. They were all so cute, their little eager faces turned to me as I read to them, and it reminded me how much I truly did love teaching. I dismissed my class, accepting their hugs and calls of “Thank you Miss Juliette!” before spying Taron haunting the doorway, remembering that we’d practiced here before so of course he knew where I worked. One little girl cutely stopped in front of him, and I couldn’t hear what either was saying but she giggled and her mum smiled appreciatively at Taron.

He walked in the studio, holding a small bouquet of flowers and handing them over to me. “What are you doing here?” I asked, accepting the flowers and honestly a bit surprised to see him.

“I just needed to apologize for being a basic asshole to you yesterday, and the day before that. You were right, I was acting jealous and had no right to be, and I hope you can accept that I’m completely sorry for my behaviour,” he said, biting his lip slightly. “I knew we wouldn’t see each other again for a few days, and I didn’t want this to wait so…”

“Thank you, of course I accept that apology but you didn’t really need to,” I said softly.

“I just want you to know that I want you to be happy, whoever that ends up being with. And if it’s not me, I can accept that. I’m your friend first, and I want you to know that I’m here for you and that’s not contingent on a relationship.” He fidgeted with his jacket sleeves slightly, obviously nervous about what he was saying and I felt the urge to just give him a hug.

“Taron, I … I do like you, a lot,” I said softly, about to tell him how much I didn’t belong in his world when he just kept talking through me.

“And the thing is, I mean, if Markus is your guy, then I’ll step away from this and respect that. Or… or if you can’t make up your mind, then I guess I’d be okay with you seeing both of us until you could decide, you know, who made you happier,” he said, stumbling slightly over his words and staring at the ground the whole time.

“Seriously?” I said, mostly in absolute shock but I think Taron misread it as eagerness.

“Is that palatable?” he asked, finally looking up at me. “Because I really don’t want to lose a chance with you,” he said softly, his face looking as though he was about to crumble.

“Taron, you’re not going to lose me,” I said, instantly going over to him and cupping his face with my hands. “We work together, remember?” I teased, earning a small smile out of that. “I’m trying to be as fair as I can and I never expected myself to be in this situation.”

“Right, I get it,” he said quietly, the vulnerability clear on his face. “Or at least, I’m trying to understand it.”

“I just find it hard to believe that you’d choose someone like me to want to be with. There have to be other girls, better women who are more in your world, you know?” I finally admitted.

“Better than you?” he asked, his eyes going wide. “Juliette, there is no one better than you in my world. This is where I want you to be and where you deserve to be.”

I couldn’t speak for all the emotions his words drew to the forefront. Doubt, disbelief, shock, love, vulnerability, yearning and passion, maybe even a little bit of fear coursed through me as he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me in to him, kissing me without holding anything back this time. If I thought that man could make me feel before, that was nothing compared to getting lost with him now.

“Gross, get a room,” Madison joked, having barged in the studio thinking it was just me there. Taron and I broke apart instantly, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed.

“Uh, Mads, this is Taron. Taron, my best friend Madison,” I said, trying to recover by introducing them.

“Oh, I know who Taron is,” she smirked, offering her hand to him but getting a cute hug instead. Oh my god, she mouthed to me over his shoulder. We chatted briefly but I had an incoming class and Taron knew he couldn’t really take up much more of my time, but he gave me another, much sweeter kiss and cupped my chin with his fingers. 

“We’ll talk about this later, yeah? Call me,” he smiled, giving me the now-familiar phone gesture, and I nodded.

“You’ve got it,” I said, watching him go as he cutely waved at the both of us.

“Oh. My. God!” Madison squealed at me as soon as the door had swung shut behind Taron. “So are you together now?” she nearly screeched.

“I...uhm… I think so? It’s complicated, but I think I definitely need to let Markus down now,” I said, my lips still tingling from kissing Taron.

“Yeah, I’d say,” Madison snorted. “You were practically melting into him. You can’t tell me Markus sweeps you off your feet like that.”

“Or kisses like that, definitely not,” I mused slightly.

“Are you even going to survive sex with Taron?” she asked, making me blush a deep red.

“Holy shit, Mads, you can’t go around saying things like that to me!” I said as she cackled, giving me a wicked grin as my next class of students started filing in.

“Oh, I can, and I did. Have fun with your class!” she giggled, leaving me to it as I desperately tried to recover my composure. 

I tried with some difficulty to keep my mind from wandering to what Taron might look like naked as I led my class through warmups and floor exercises. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit I had maybe fantasized about it before. If he hadn’t walked away Saturday night, if he hadn’t been the gentleman he was, I wouldn’t still be wondering this at all. But I knew the answer was no, absolutely not; I definitely wasn’t going to survive sleeping with Taron if just kissing him made me feel this undone.

Will Juliette be able to break things off with Markus? And will her relationship with Taron continue to grow? Find out in Chapter 6 HERE.

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron fanfiction #rocketman imagine

[wayward-hums]

Backscratcher Solved

The things you believed in will stay like the needle in the eye of your son, forever, while violet lights on Christmas windows tell their young to count the stars above for the tow trucks to come.

One snap of both fingers on both hands is that quick to forget the loss of the eye for the storm. Bjork and her son on some island are editing magazines, as the newspapers cut their font accordingly.

Believe in Weimar - all the dogs that make you happy today are the cats with burnt tails at night, and that weeps you out.

Tell Eno about the sign, as present continuous couldn't be if not for being alive. Forget the Judge, he knows.

My fire is despairing in Chernobyl while the elephant's leg is laughing inside one snake turned into a wrong god.

My orange later is the new blue and black depending on the dalton in the snow.

Cilla approves of my literature beyond the thistles of the pale lilac rainbow.

Roma follow lithium when Kurt knows how right Reznor could have been if he still believed in self destruction from Lucas.

There's too much actor geometry in my systems. I think this is stolen from Ballard. Ballard who did you steal it from? Jews probably... Then I feel shameless to steal it from you once more.

If you want to find my twisted sister, my anchor has made a pact in Panjeea not to look in the eye when the Celtic ring is breaking on the middle finger.

The man hammering the anvil still sits on the fence before the oval, surrounded by coal and covered by the trees.

Pigeons not only develop a coop, they wait before the docks positioning themselves in the manner of your being and everything turns against Gira machine because his Polaroids don't match the patterns on Andy's chest.

My murder of crows never Rows M for H anymore, as the P is at composed consolidation with the Mac and cheese.

Is your purple super handed man still escaping through your husband's elbow while you stick your eye in it to see how close you are from reaching your own screw? He says quietly that they always come and so they do. They really do. I see them wandering around me in Jung and its shadows. I see stars. Little openings, usually of green glow.

My hook aura can do a cucumber before 9pm.

***

Keep all lose ends, you never know whether the mercurial son won't end up trashing background music.

Your belt in hypercube can do prime numbers showing the tree that cut its own head and turned into a stone from which Pegasus took young self into nowhere.

Gabo Othala Gabo Othala Gabo Othala.

The silver lining is on your apricot.

Remember that babies are on the mint trolley so the smoke is showing you Odin from the blood to the excrement in the river.

Mondays are manic and ratty, Tuesday is for the eternal love of Thom. On Wednesdays the leprechaun is flexing the muscles, while Thursday belongs to David... and it is so low, Lou needs to cut himself in the reeds for Iggy to pop alive on television. Running around the beach with a yoggi.

Jessica's Fridays are doing shrimps in the green mile jar for a doormouse.

Weekends don't come around. Or they do when Moz is unable to look me in the eye, cursing the father.

No-one really sells the world exactly, not even my self, my voided body.

Saturday could be the moment for Nick Cave's split with Blixa if not for the fact I'm on Jupiter and she is on Pluto.

No matter how much your raisin shows, the towel will sweep the others for you on a snow creamed Marilyn kiss from three Irelands visiting to and fro and then back to young Erin again.

This is not the time for the b&w, but for the 'S' that goes onto 'M' for the demon that doesn't breathe (it lives in the idea in the hallway-room that wasn't reversed to the time before the great break)

||

So count to nine (hee-haw) because 13 is the number reserved for jumping Heather / feather of the church of Brigid.

Silvans blow their Peruvian pipes for Oliver to replace Stuart, like a fiver killed through my barking girl hidden within an exhibitionist gym for when we were young animal girls.

Sometimes things feel like faceless beauty looking cardinal purple for Art to go turquoise and celeste on a mean lean green sunflower pact with a-cordian Jon.

There's too much carnelian on the Fubar for the floss of Leviathan and red weather drums hiding Indian eggs on mount I donated a paper plane to cover the moon of wolves in my polar bear lying on the floor.

A misogynist chef that cooks awesome hospital food without much attitude for love sings "wo' y'all yall".

"Keep it snappy for suffragette equalizers on central Deadpool Rock Resistance", said Edith in Glasgow while singing bread melody of the morning frost in pure mist.

David lynch knows not to pull 7 for a very long time in this factory.

Sunglasses at night might help, but children of the plague have begun their surreal journey with abacus to give a three - fingered hand shakes.

Bolt the doctor in the eye of your chin.

Apples don't talk of piety when they're unafraid of the mirror iris. Ewe and Grace won't ever do the thin daughter's water scale channel in the open.

There is a teal in Argos for the Chinese salmon and eels.

We won't scratch Hungarians to bring turkey to the bridge for the anti-heroes hidden in literature's fantastic eyelashes.

Please remember the terrifying future of the freeze. Why your brother is so full of angst about spiders and machines from war of the worlds. You love him and you understand how step-ladders work now.

Although you're still around the difficulty to forgive, regardless of the amount of Tzur's Ho and purple Sign O' the Times, she must have your name.

Gather self around the time you crunched and went back to say Carlin was not just right, he was essential.

You don't want to die holding an Artaud shoe but pancreatic cancer doesn't feel appealing either. Why is it always cancer or suicide by society?

Don't slice the ear, keep the slave in the black tulip for scientists to wonder.

Japan is saving the moment of air / water release for the grainy deserted field of barley, Roxy Boney.

Yoko Ono never meant to tell me until this December that I am Pepe Pewing lasers for Hong Kong.

I am forgiven.

There is sorrow for Libby in my dust bunnies, I crumble my rib and lung.

The right side of the body hailing to the man is the realm of the dead. Live your hands separately, I told them enough.

Raspberry slipper hill on Francis the magpie turn leopard once for the Tinkerbell to off herself for Disney-Pasta with a sample of Finland for the birds on your assessment notes.

At first you may think that the weirded masked nympho is having a pact with a hoover man and denotes the conversations to the red lion man blackmailed by the pen handling yellow, 9"11 causing peckers, over and over.

I said I won't Sanchez you that white frame for Chris and John, but I allowed my blue trousers to go full circle and come back as I don't feel much like creating portals in 2005, so don't dare stealing my love.

Time and morality are so relative it feels it was me who has always been giving to the eternity; I have given flowers for the red crown that brought cracks on the crocodile pavement for ankh girl go sandman.

I have awakened you and nursed Joe in his dream on the 01/12 by spitting on my totem.

If they are looking through my right eye, my left fountain keeps flowing gum that will come back in style, since the owls have left the ward with marlboro and lassoes, Dennis Jordan won't buffalo buffalo even for the ear.

***

Birds see my floaters and I don't catch black snow. One tiny spoon of Italian ice-cream wounded by an old relative (that is not with me anymore) is enough to convince Vienna of waiters.

FedEx kid told Tom who lately broke a lot of wall not to look me in the Wilson this time, one neighbour on covid19 is enough, we reckon. His son did some Buckley a while back. Who else looks like dope?

I learned that my cairn was a farmer. The one legged Alan tossed the coin to me. The deor collects no dandylion.

The tin with the stag in four A reflected the same pattern as the Rudolf before the || hallway, just like my radiator - dried bobble today.

They tried to recount me by removing my magnetic field of mice away, while adding heavier than life gravity onto my atlas that still reminds me of clear bag in Hungarian.

***

When I spoke to you the first time your blonde hair and pale skin were set on fire. I love every time you move your head towards a cat caress.

Phil Spector is still reincarnating outside the window. Swayze's wife must be furious about the theft of patsy Cline into the crazy vein of my middle finger.

The teared rose on Mexican palms have led me to a higher wisdom of Armenia.

Now that I listened to you I understand the highs of organic artists better and I'm disappointed it is leaving me while the gravity of rock and roll becomes too heavy to relate to my foetus on the leash the way I could relate before.

You have to be that tall to pass my headge-row with a lion tattoo on the armpit, when you drive over the body of that girl and get away with it, buddy.

Tear for Eddie.

Who is off the nut today? I'm only playing poker cards on my brown paladium. The ancient black cat knows no Asian bullshit

Hyenas are laughing about their shimmering initiation. Bird laughs with droplets falling on my right elbow. It serves me not (back when I got scared in the restaurant chain) until I'm served Jasmine knot.

I'm that girl everyone keeps selling and that man you can't look in the eye on your right. Stop using my raspberry rabbit, it is mine!

Why do You insist on using language as if it couldn't harm you? I'm least likely to, anyway.

***

[networkingdefinition]

Walnuts Quotes

Official Website: Walnuts Quotes

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• A spaniel, a woman, and a walnut tree, the more they’re beaten the better they be. – John Ray • A thing which I regret, and which I will try to remedy some time, is that I have never in my life planted a walnut. Nobody does plant them nowadays-when you see a walnut it is almost invariably an old tree. If you plant a walnut you are planting it for your grandchildren, and who cares a damn for his grandchildren? – George Orwell • Abraham Lincoln once walked down the street with his two sons, both of whom were crying. “What’s the matter with you boys?” asked a passerby. “Exactly what is wrong with the whole world,” said Lincoln. “I have three walnuts, and each boy wants two.” – George Sweeting • After-dinner talk Across the walnuts and the wine. – Alfred Lord Tennyson • All families had their special Christmas food. Ours was called Dutch Bread, made from a dough halfway between bread and cake, stuffed with citron and every sort of nut from the farm – hazel, black walnut, hickory, butternut. – Paul Engle • ‘American Sniper’ is a movie whose politics are so ludicrous and idiotic that under normal circumstances it would be beneath criticism. The only thing that forces us to take it seriously is the extraordinary fact that an almost exactly similar worldview consumed the walnut-sized mind of the president who got us into the war in question. – Matt Taibbi • Arnold Schwarzenegger looks like a brown condom full of walnuts. – Clive James • Dad says that everyone invented baklava.” It occurs to me now to wonder what that means. Aunt Aya rolls her eyes. “Your father? He is the worst of the worst. He thinks he cooks and eats Arabic food but these walnuts were not grown from Jordanian earth and this butter was not made from Jordanian lambs. He is eating the shadow of a memory. He cooks to remember but the more he eats, the more he forgets. – Diana Abu-Jaber • East of my bean-field, across the road, lived Cato Ingraham, slave of Duncan Ingraham, Esquire, gentleman, of Concord village, whobuilt his slave a house, and gave him permission to live in Walden Woods;MCato, not Uticensis, but Concordiensis. Some say that he was a Guinea Negro. There are a few who remember his little patch among the walnuts, which he let grow up till he should be old and need them; but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last. He too, however, occupies an equally narrow house at present. – Henry David Thoreau • Experience has taught me a technique for dealing with such people […] I counter the devotees of the Great Pyramid by adoration of the Sphinx; and the devotee of nuts by pointing out that hazelnuts and walnuts are as deleterious as other foods and only Brazil nuts should be tolerated. But when I was younger I had not yet acquired this technique, with the result that my contacts with cranks were sometimes alarming. – Bertrand Russell • God didn’t give me the ability to play the piano, or paint a picture or have compassion. But… he did give me the ability to crack a walnut with my hoo-ha. – Karen Walker • Her eyes, walnut brown and shaded by fanned lashes, met mine. Held for a moment. Flew away. – Khaled Hosseini • How do you write? You write, man, you write, that’s how, and you do it the way the old English walnut tree puts forth leaf and fruit every year by the thousands. . . . If you practice an art faithfully, it will make you wise, and most writers can use a little wising up. – William Saroyan • I could eat black walnut all the time, it’s not a flavor of the week! – Herman Cain • I did as much as I could: raising chickens, pushing an ice-cream cart, bagging walnuts, driving a tractor on a beet farm, working on the railroad. I think this eclectic career helped me a lot in life. – Charles R. Schwab • I first saw the site for Disneyland back in 1953, In those days it was all flat land – no rivers, no mountains, no castles or rocket ships – just orange groves, and a few acres of walnut trees. – Walt Disney • I have no ability to develop muscle tone. I could do situps all day and still look like a condom full of walnuts. – Dana Gould • I loved Christmas. We had a really great time. But there wasn’t – it was all – you had to be happy with, you know, an orange and a couple of walnuts, you know, in your stocking. – Nick Lowe • In California there were nuggets the size of walnuts lying on the ground—or so it was said, and truth travels slowly when rumors have wings of gold. – Cherie Priest • In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. – Thomas Merton • It’s better to get the nutrients for healthy skin from food, not supplements. Salmon, walnuts, blueberries, spinach… lots of my favorite foods happen to be amazing for skin too. – Gail Simmons • I’ve met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, ‘Why?’ Why did I cause so much pain? Didn’t I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can’t I see how we’re all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God’s got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, ‘No, that’s not right.’ Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can’t teach God anything. – Chuck Palahniuk • My wife Ann and I had been digging during the day, transplanting lilies from the front of this abandoned farmhouse back down the road to where we live. We finished. She was tired and laid in the grass. I took a picture. The house is now gone. The walnut trees have been bulldozed and burned. I saw this picture the other day for the first time in years and realized how photographing life within a hundred yards of my front porch had helped me focus on everything I cared about. – Larry Towell • On a grander scale, when a society segregates itself, the consequences affect the economy, the emotions, and the ecology. That’s one reason why it’s easy for pro-lifers to eat factory-raised animals that disrespect everything sacred about creation. And that is why it’s easy for rabid environmentalists to hate chainsaws even though they snuggle into a mattress supported by a black walnut bedstead. – Joel Salatin • On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered; Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree. – William C. Bryant • One of the biggest problems with young chefs is too much addition to the plate. You put cilantro and then tarragon and then olive oil and then walnut oil or whatever. It’s too much. – Jacques Pepin • Shrinking someone’s stomach to the size of a walnut with surgery is one way to battle obesity and diabetes and may be lifesaving for a few, but it doesn’t address the underlying causes. – Mark Hyman, M.D. • Some of us are sixty feet long with a brain the size of a walnut. – William S. Burroughs • Tariqah [The Spiritual Path] without the Sharia [Islamic Law] is like having a pistachio tree without the shell. Or a walnut, a walnut cannot grow on a tree without having a shell, and the food that you eat is inside the shell. – Seyyed Hossein Nasr • The camera hound of the future wears on his forehead a lump a little larger than a walnut. – Vannevar Bush • The cross is like a walnut whose outer rind is bitter, but the inner kernel is pleasant and invigorating. So the cross does not offer any charm of outward appearance, but to the cross-bearer its true character is revealed, and he finds in it the choicest sweets of spiritual peace. – Sadhu Sundar Singh • The most overrated ingredients are garlic and extra-virgin olive oil. With garlic, it’s personal; I have never been that big of a fan of its flavor. As for extra-virgin olive oil, I do use it quite often but its ubiquity serves to overshadow many wonderful oils like pistachio, walnut, argan and even grapeseed. – Lela Rose • The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories. Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale. – Vera Nazarian • The picture’s pretty bleak, gentlemen… The world’s climates are changing, the mammals are taking over, and we all have a brain about the size of a walnut. – Gary Larson • The very first Walnut Whales recording was recorded just a few weeks after I had started singing, out of the blue, started singing. And the voice, you can hear how uncomfortable I am with it, and how terrified I am with it. – Joanna Newsom • There rises the moon, broad and tranquil, through the branches of a walnut tree on a hill opposite. I apostrophize it in the words of Faust; “O gentle moon, that lookest for the last time upon my agonies!” –or something to that effect. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • They say that there are moments that open up your life like a walnut cracked, that change your point of view so that you never look at things the same way again. – Jodi Picoult • To this day, I hate walnuts and I hate onions because on weekends when the walnuts and onions were in season, we were out there first thing in the morning and out there until the sun went down topping onions or picking walnuts. – Scott Brooks • Walnuts have a shell, and they have a kernel. Religions are the same. They have an essence, but then they have a protective coating. This is not the only way to put it. But it’s my way. So the kernels are the same. However, the shells are different. – Huston Smith • We do not ask the mountain’s aid to crack a walnut. – Wole Soyinka • we do not explain my husband’s insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use. – Anne Sexton • What kind of tea do you want?” “There´s more than one kind of tea?…What do you have?” “Let´s see… Blueberry, Raspberry, Ginseng, Sleepytime, Green Tea, Green Tea with Lemon, Green Tea with Lemon and Honey, Liver Disaster, Ginger with Honey, Ginger Without Honey, Vanilla Almond, White Truffle Coconut, Chamomile, Blueberry Chamomile, Decaf Vanilla Walnut, Constant Comment and Earl Grey.” -“I.. Uh…What are you having?… Did you make some of those up? – Bryan Lee O’Malley • What’s wrong with men?” Tenar inquired cautiously. As cautiously, lowering her voice, Moss replied, “I don’t know, my dearie. I’ve thought on it. Often I’ve thought on it. The best I can say it is like this. A man’s in his skin, see, like a nut in its shell.” She held up her long, bent, wet fingers as if holding a walnut. “It’s hard and strong, that shell, and it’s all full of him. Full of grand man-meat, man-self. And that’s all. That’s all there is. It’s all him and nothing else, inside. – Ursula K. Le Guin • When you are in the final days of your life, what will you want? Will you hug that college degree in the walnut frame? Will you ask to be carried to the garage so you can sit in your car? Will you find comfort in rereading your financial statement? Of course not. What will matter then will be people. If relationships will matter most then, shouldn’t they matter most now? – Max Lucado • Winter is for women The woman still at her knitting, At the cradle of Spanish walnut, Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think. – Sylvia Plath [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[equitiesstocks]

Walnuts Quotes

Official Website: Walnuts Quotes

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• A spaniel, a woman, and a walnut tree, the more they’re beaten the better they be. – John Ray • A thing which I regret, and which I will try to remedy some time, is that I have never in my life planted a walnut. Nobody does plant them nowadays-when you see a walnut it is almost invariably an old tree. If you plant a walnut you are planting it for your grandchildren, and who cares a damn for his grandchildren? – George Orwell • Abraham Lincoln once walked down the street with his two sons, both of whom were crying. “What’s the matter with you boys?” asked a passerby. “Exactly what is wrong with the whole world,” said Lincoln. “I have three walnuts, and each boy wants two.” – George Sweeting • After-dinner talk Across the walnuts and the wine. – Alfred Lord Tennyson • All families had their special Christmas food. Ours was called Dutch Bread, made from a dough halfway between bread and cake, stuffed with citron and every sort of nut from the farm – hazel, black walnut, hickory, butternut. – Paul Engle • ‘American Sniper’ is a movie whose politics are so ludicrous and idiotic that under normal circumstances it would be beneath criticism. The only thing that forces us to take it seriously is the extraordinary fact that an almost exactly similar worldview consumed the walnut-sized mind of the president who got us into the war in question. – Matt Taibbi • Arnold Schwarzenegger looks like a brown condom full of walnuts. – Clive James • Dad says that everyone invented baklava.” It occurs to me now to wonder what that means. Aunt Aya rolls her eyes. “Your father? He is the worst of the worst. He thinks he cooks and eats Arabic food but these walnuts were not grown from Jordanian earth and this butter was not made from Jordanian lambs. He is eating the shadow of a memory. He cooks to remember but the more he eats, the more he forgets. – Diana Abu-Jaber • East of my bean-field, across the road, lived Cato Ingraham, slave of Duncan Ingraham, Esquire, gentleman, of Concord village, whobuilt his slave a house, and gave him permission to live in Walden Woods;MCato, not Uticensis, but Concordiensis. Some say that he was a Guinea Negro. There are a few who remember his little patch among the walnuts, which he let grow up till he should be old and need them; but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last. He too, however, occupies an equally narrow house at present. – Henry David Thoreau • Experience has taught me a technique for dealing with such people […] I counter the devotees of the Great Pyramid by adoration of the Sphinx; and the devotee of nuts by pointing out that hazelnuts and walnuts are as deleterious as other foods and only Brazil nuts should be tolerated. But when I was younger I had not yet acquired this technique, with the result that my contacts with cranks were sometimes alarming. – Bertrand Russell • God didn’t give me the ability to play the piano, or paint a picture or have compassion. But… he did give me the ability to crack a walnut with my hoo-ha. – Karen Walker • Her eyes, walnut brown and shaded by fanned lashes, met mine. Held for a moment. Flew away. – Khaled Hosseini • How do you write? You write, man, you write, that’s how, and you do it the way the old English walnut tree puts forth leaf and fruit every year by the thousands. . . . If you practice an art faithfully, it will make you wise, and most writers can use a little wising up. – William Saroyan • I could eat black walnut all the time, it’s not a flavor of the week! – Herman Cain • I did as much as I could: raising chickens, pushing an ice-cream cart, bagging walnuts, driving a tractor on a beet farm, working on the railroad. I think this eclectic career helped me a lot in life. – Charles R. Schwab • I first saw the site for Disneyland back in 1953, In those days it was all flat land – no rivers, no mountains, no castles or rocket ships – just orange groves, and a few acres of walnut trees. – Walt Disney • I have no ability to develop muscle tone. I could do situps all day and still look like a condom full of walnuts. – Dana Gould • I loved Christmas. We had a really great time. But there wasn’t – it was all – you had to be happy with, you know, an orange and a couple of walnuts, you know, in your stocking. – Nick Lowe • In California there were nuggets the size of walnuts lying on the ground—or so it was said, and truth travels slowly when rumors have wings of gold. – Cherie Priest • In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. – Thomas Merton • It’s better to get the nutrients for healthy skin from food, not supplements. Salmon, walnuts, blueberries, spinach… lots of my favorite foods happen to be amazing for skin too. – Gail Simmons • I’ve met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, ‘Why?’ Why did I cause so much pain? Didn’t I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can’t I see how we’re all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God’s got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, ‘No, that’s not right.’ Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can’t teach God anything. – Chuck Palahniuk • My wife Ann and I had been digging during the day, transplanting lilies from the front of this abandoned farmhouse back down the road to where we live. We finished. She was tired and laid in the grass. I took a picture. The house is now gone. The walnut trees have been bulldozed and burned. I saw this picture the other day for the first time in years and realized how photographing life within a hundred yards of my front porch had helped me focus on everything I cared about. – Larry Towell • On a grander scale, when a society segregates itself, the consequences affect the economy, the emotions, and the ecology. That’s one reason why it’s easy for pro-lifers to eat factory-raised animals that disrespect everything sacred about creation. And that is why it’s easy for rabid environmentalists to hate chainsaws even though they snuggle into a mattress supported by a black walnut bedstead. – Joel Salatin • On my cornice linger the ripe black grapes ungathered; Children fill the groves with the echoes of their glee, Gathering tawny chestnuts, and shouting when beside them Drops the heavy fruit of the tall black-walnut tree. – William C. Bryant • One of the biggest problems with young chefs is too much addition to the plate. You put cilantro and then tarragon and then olive oil and then walnut oil or whatever. It’s too much. – Jacques Pepin • Shrinking someone’s stomach to the size of a walnut with surgery is one way to battle obesity and diabetes and may be lifesaving for a few, but it doesn’t address the underlying causes. – Mark Hyman, M.D. • Some of us are sixty feet long with a brain the size of a walnut. – William S. Burroughs • Tariqah [The Spiritual Path] without the Sharia [Islamic Law] is like having a pistachio tree without the shell. Or a walnut, a walnut cannot grow on a tree without having a shell, and the food that you eat is inside the shell. – Seyyed Hossein Nasr • The camera hound of the future wears on his forehead a lump a little larger than a walnut. – Vannevar Bush • The cross is like a walnut whose outer rind is bitter, but the inner kernel is pleasant and invigorating. So the cross does not offer any charm of outward appearance, but to the cross-bearer its true character is revealed, and he finds in it the choicest sweets of spiritual peace. – Sadhu Sundar Singh • The most overrated ingredients are garlic and extra-virgin olive oil. With garlic, it’s personal; I have never been that big of a fan of its flavor. As for extra-virgin olive oil, I do use it quite often but its ubiquity serves to overshadow many wonderful oils like pistachio, walnut, argan and even grapeseed. – Lela Rose • The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories. Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale. – Vera Nazarian • The picture’s pretty bleak, gentlemen… The world’s climates are changing, the mammals are taking over, and we all have a brain about the size of a walnut. – Gary Larson • The very first Walnut Whales recording was recorded just a few weeks after I had started singing, out of the blue, started singing. And the voice, you can hear how uncomfortable I am with it, and how terrified I am with it. – Joanna Newsom • There rises the moon, broad and tranquil, through the branches of a walnut tree on a hill opposite. I apostrophize it in the words of Faust; “O gentle moon, that lookest for the last time upon my agonies!” –or something to that effect. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow • They say that there are moments that open up your life like a walnut cracked, that change your point of view so that you never look at things the same way again. – Jodi Picoult • To this day, I hate walnuts and I hate onions because on weekends when the walnuts and onions were in season, we were out there first thing in the morning and out there until the sun went down topping onions or picking walnuts. – Scott Brooks • Walnuts have a shell, and they have a kernel. Religions are the same. They have an essence, but then they have a protective coating. This is not the only way to put it. But it’s my way. So the kernels are the same. However, the shells are different. – Huston Smith • We do not ask the mountain’s aid to crack a walnut. – Wole Soyinka • we do not explain my husband’s insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use. – Anne Sexton • What kind of tea do you want?” “There´s more than one kind of tea?…What do you have?” “Let´s see… Blueberry, Raspberry, Ginseng, Sleepytime, Green Tea, Green Tea with Lemon, Green Tea with Lemon and Honey, Liver Disaster, Ginger with Honey, Ginger Without Honey, Vanilla Almond, White Truffle Coconut, Chamomile, Blueberry Chamomile, Decaf Vanilla Walnut, Constant Comment and Earl Grey.” -“I.. Uh…What are you having?… Did you make some of those up? – Bryan Lee O’Malley • What’s wrong with men?” Tenar inquired cautiously. As cautiously, lowering her voice, Moss replied, “I don’t know, my dearie. I’ve thought on it. Often I’ve thought on it. The best I can say it is like this. A man’s in his skin, see, like a nut in its shell.” She held up her long, bent, wet fingers as if holding a walnut. “It’s hard and strong, that shell, and it’s all full of him. Full of grand man-meat, man-self. And that’s all. That’s all there is. It’s all him and nothing else, inside. – Ursula K. Le Guin • When you are in the final days of your life, what will you want? Will you hug that college degree in the walnut frame? Will you ask to be carried to the garage so you can sit in your car? Will you find comfort in rereading your financial statement? Of course not. What will matter then will be people. If relationships will matter most then, shouldn’t they matter most now? – Max Lucado • Winter is for women The woman still at her knitting, At the cradle of Spanish walnut, Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think. – Sylvia Plath [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

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[passportrequired]

A Valentine Cheer in Europe

I decided on a solo Europe trip because I wanted to do what I CAN’T call Eat Pray Love BECAUSE I still have yet to watch this movie. However, after the senseless murder of my niece on Valentine’s Day a couple years prior and my mom’s lost to a battle with cancer a year after, I figured V-Day needed some coloring.

I decided on a flight to Istanbul that would transfer to Milan and then EasyJet from Milan to Paris and then to Barcelona and back to Milan and jump back on Turkish airlines to Istanbul and finally home to Dulles.

When I told my family I was heading to Europe alone, they asked if I didn’t see the movie Taken. I told them no one is taking a big boned black girl. What I was really saying is no one will stop me from traveling solo in search of a valentine cheer.

My niece was stabbed over 20 times. The guy got 60 to life. But how do I look at Valentine’s Day the same? My mom cried. The next year she died. She chose not to do the 50 to 50 chance surgery. I wrestled with that. Why did she choose to die and not to fight? But I realized now she wanted to go on HER terms. Death is something that the living has to deal with. We are left to grieve and miss and yearn.

My trip was to live like they had not. Do things that they couldn’t…

I arrived in Istanbul on a six-hour layover. When I touched down on the tarmac, I remember thinking it looks just like the hallmark card my friend had given me for my birthday in January. I started my EAT’ing. Opened faced smoked salmon sandwich with eggs sunny side up. Delectable for airport food. I pictured my niece Tiana and my mom Valeria sitting across from me. Enjoying. Complaining about the runny eggs. Laughing and ready to explore our first leg of the trip.

The Coconut Curry Chicken (or Shrimp). INGREDIENTS: Organic Chicken from Whole Foods or bag of shrimp from Trader Joes. Trio pepper, red onions, scallion, thyme, habanero skin, garlic, turmeric, paprika, ground cayenne (optional, but good for spicing up your life), black pepper, sea salt (or salt), Basil (fresh or dry), one canned Trader Joe’s organic coconut milk, olive oil, one small sweet potato or Irish (russet) potato. Add olive oil to pan with fresh and dry seasonings. Stir on high heat and add canned coconut milk. Add peeled and cut (tiny pieces) of potato to pot. Let it boil on medium for 30-45 minutes until desired taste. If using shrimp, add shrimp at end and let cook for 15-30 mins until desired taste of shrimp and sauce. If using chicken, add chicken to beginning prior to adding coconut milk. Once cooked, enjoy over bed of Whole Foods basmati or Trader Joe’s jasmine rice OR with some fresh naan.

The Rice. INGREDIENTS: Basmati white or brown rice OR jasmine white or brown rice. Irish / Icelandic butter or olive oil. Sea Salt. Place rice in pot with one-inch water above rice level (use finger tips to judge), stir in salt and butter or olive oil. Cover rice and let come to a boil on high fire setting. As soon as it boils over, turn fire on lowest setting and let sit for 30 minutes then turn stove off.

My mom probably made curry differently. But I added my twist. Let the EAT’ing begin.

ENJOY.

I people watched in that Istanbul airport until I cracked myself up. A couple smooching, others rushing. I wonder where they are heading. Maybe they are off to someplace romantic. To celebrate. An engagement or an anniversary or maybe it’s new love or young love. Perhaps the Maldives or Fiji. I made up stories about strangers and laughed with my mom and Tiana until it was my turn to head someplace. Milan in particular.

Industrial and not what I expected. I used to read my sister’s romance magazines. Soap opera in a book. Lancio published them. Those cute Italian boys were in Milan. I figured I would find cheer there. But instead I found the Duomo. When I walked inside, a feeling came over me. Like God had reached out and grabbed my soul, telling me it’s okay. I know you lost your sister, Brenda years earlier to a routine knee surgery. I know Kenneth, Nicole and Dwight are gone too and I know you lost mama (grandma) and Lattie and more recently, your sister, Luna, niece Tiana and mommy, Valeria. But I’m here now. It was either that or a memory of a Catholic Church in Morant Bay, Jamaica. Either way, something inside the Duomo moved me. I felt it and I sat on the church bench, PRAYed and made the sign of the cross against my chest. A sign you couldn’t forget even if you left the church behind.

I could hear Ave Maria in my head. Maria Ferrante singing by Franz Shubert. I have it on my playlist. “Ave maria, äiti maan lapsien, taas meihin katsoo suojellen, kun poika syntymäpäivä on…” I sat in the church and quietly recited, “Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” I used to hear my dad praying this prayer often. How many Hail Marys do you need to cleanse your soul of its sins? I didn’t want to imagine the sins of my father.

I walked out of the Duomo and took a long trek back to my hotel room. Quietly. I felt my mom and Tiana on the walk back. It wasn’t creepy. It was all LOVE.

Prior to the Duomo I took some photos of the church from the Museo Del Novecento. Museums give me a sense of peace. Perhaps because it’s a quiet observance. No need to discuss in the moment. Just observe and soak it in.

I felt snow on me and knew something was brewing. Later, I was stuck at the airport. EasyJet put us up near the airport with food vouchers and free hotel. I almost got rerouted to Germany. I didn’t take it. I stayed in Milan. Stuck in the hotel room and eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with complete strangers. I had to walk a scary dark walk for dinner. I chatted with some of the strangers so I didn’t have to walk the dinner walk alone. No dinner was served in my hotel. When I couldn’t find a stranger, I said a few Hail Marys and walked the walk to have decent Italian food and frizzante. Every time I tried to have a croissant it was filled with something. I don’t like fillings, but Europeans do. I do; however, like cappuccinos and I had good coffee there. I decided to write and think while waiting for the snow to clear. Two days later I ended up at Charles de Gaulle and got to my hotel a few minutes before midnight. My flight for Barcelona was leaving the next morning.

I arrived at the Le Meridien bummed that I wouldn’t see Paris. But my friend, Jessica from Scotland had been there waiting for me. She had already gotten a chance to see it and decided to give me the midnight tour. I tucked mommy and Tiana away and me and Jessica walked the streets. On our walk I saw a prostitute on the side of the street down on her knees with a client. Paris is gangsta. I watched the Eiffel tower’s lights go dim and I took pictures at the Arc de Triomphe.

I wanted to be up close and personal but not on this trip. The chef opened the kitchen to serve me creme brûlée. I talked with Jess and ate the best creme brûlée I’d ever tasted. If only I had gotten to go out and about, I’m sure there’s better crème brûlée in a small Parisian bakery. We decided to forego sleep. I hadn’t seen Jessica in years. It was good to see her and touch her and talk with her. We had so much to talk about. We didn’t let the sleep in our eyes stop us. We talked and talked and talked and talked. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hugged Jess goodbye. I was going back to solo’ing in Barcelona.

No plane issues this time. I waited for my flight and met two Parisian girls who thought it was cool I was on a solo trip and from America. We chatted and laughed and swapped stories. I thought Parisians were snobby. Not these two. Friendly and sweet. We took pictures and said a proper goodbye.

I arrived in Barcelona and in LOVE. I couldn’t stop staring out the window of my transport on the way to the hotel. Another Le Meridien hotel. Thanks to my sister Colleen’s discounts. I was on a budget in a fantastic Starwood hotel. It was in the midst of La Rambla. I didn’t waste a minute in Barcelona. I took to the streets and spoke as much Spanish as I could remember. I ate a burger and fries and drank local beer in a small friendly bar. After beer two I packed up and went to an art museum where the guard asked for my hand in marriage. I laughed and continued my quiet observance of the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art.

That night I watched a Spanish jazz singer over dinner. I had a chance to meet and chat with her. She flirted and I blushed. I told her I’m straight and kissed her on the cheek. My valentine cheer was coming in little packages. I imagined Tiana in full Spanish mode. Her mom, Kathy is Puerto Rican. She was enjoying Barcelona. Swinging her hips and trying to teach me salsa and mommy laughing. When she was younger her favorite thing from grandma was Jamaican fried dumplings. My mom made it so good. I wasn’t yet there in America. But when I came, she was older. I met her and she still wanted fried dumplings from grandma. Had there been fried dumplings in Barcelona I would have had some just for her.

My best friend Misha loves this soup. She had been asking for the recipe for years. I told her I didn’t know how to write recipes. But this one, you can EAT with LOVE. Just don’t forget to PRAY before you eat. Wait don’t we drink soup. Yeah, but don’t mess with my EAT, PRAY, LOVE vibe. I think that was Tiana correcting me. I’m sure it was actually.

One canned coconut milk. More coconut milk. It reminds me of the million ways my mom used coconut. Curry Rundown: made from freshly grated and squeezed coconut juice (milk). Rendered down to base of almost oil with Saltfish inside (boiled and strained of all salt). Serve with fried or boiled dumplings. Coconut Cake: made from the coconut trash (grated) with sugar and fit for a dessert. OR coconut diced into tiny pieces, again with sugar. Another dessert, same name. Wait that’s not the soup.

Soup With No Name: INGREDIENTS: one canned Organic Trader Joe’s coconut milk. If you have time on your hands, go to the Asian market, buy a coconut, grate, squeeze and make fresh coconut milk. Sweet potatoes, bok Choy, spinach, white beans, Grace Cock Soup packet (best to put it in at the end, not sure why, this is just what Jamaicans do. Cho, stop yuh noise mek mi cook nuh). Trio pepper, red onions, scallion, thyme, habanero skin (the seeds are too hot), garlic, turmeric, paprika, cayenne (NOT optional, spice up your life), black pepper, sea salt (or salt), Basil (fresh or dry). Add water to a big pot and coconut milk and all dry seasonings. Go light on turmeric. It’s just cause I love the yellow color for this soup. Add scallion, garlic, onion and thyme along with trio pepper and habanero. Boil for 30-45 minutes. Add chopped bok choy, whole spinach (nuh chop it up mahn) and sweet potatoes (cut up in cubes). Add seafood mix and Grace Cock Soup. If using chicken add in the beginning with coconut milk. Taste. Add sea salt if additional is needed. Serve hot. PRAY.

ENJOY.

There was an ice cream truck outside the hotel. I had Nutella and vanilla swirl and chatted with the ice-cream guy. I can’t remember his name. He was sweet. Super nice and the ice-cream was great. Europe loves Nutella.

The next day I spotted a robbery as I was about to jump on the metro. I stood and watched. Three men with sheets over their shoulders running. Filled with clothes from a nearby department store. The cops showed up and jumped out the car and ran after them. Why oh why didn’t they drive after them? They didn’t catch them. Barcelona is also gangsta. My sister Michelle would worry if I told her about the gangsta shit. She was the one who asked me if I didn’t watch Taken. I bought little gifts from different places. I was on some street I can’t remember. I wondered if anyone noticed I was alone or could they see mommy and Tiana?

I arrived in Milan on my last leg. I had taken risks and seen things that made me realize solo travel is better. You get to notice every stranger. You meet people from all over and you really connect without distractions. I wrote, I thought, I laughed, I cried and I imagined I had my eat, pray, love moments. I still have to watch that movie.

On my way back to the airport I decided to ride the train from Milan. I lugged my heavy ass suitcase and got confused about which train to take and how to buy my ticket when a stranger rescued me. Though I didn’t need rescuing, this man was seeing me as a damsel in distress. His name eludes me, but he was from Georgia. No not Georgia USofA but the country. He showed me how to buy my ticket, lugged my suitcase on the train and sat next to me. Maybe for protection. He shared stories of his childhood in Georgia. And I equally of Jamaica. We laughed and talked and parted ways in Malpensa. I felt a little guilt that I forgot about mommy and Tiana.

I made my way to Istanbul and then touched down on the tarmac in Dulles. As I rode the transport back to Rockville, I couldn’t stop thinking about my trip. All the details, the quiet moments, the conversations. But mainly I felt I got just what I went looking for. I see now that today – on V-day, there’s more to remember. Not the tragedy of loss, but great memories and positive light. Not the blackness the man doing 60 years to life tried to give us. But the light that was left behind to shine.

“Alvin, I know today is a tough day but Tiana was very brave even though she knew she wouldn’t make it, she made sure the Devil got caught… so Live, Love and Laugh on her memories. Happy Tiana Notice Day.” – Colleen Burgher.

“To my family, each and every Valentine’s day my heart is torn apart. However, I have to come to the fact that life must go on and Tiana’s memories will forever live on. With that said, tonight at 9:42 pm please stop what you are doing and give a moment of silence to Tiana Angelique Notice. Tiana’s work will never be done, may her soul R.I.P.” – Alvin Notice (father of Tiana and my brother).

“A moment of silence for our dear Tiana. Love always. ♥” – Marceen A. Burgher

para mi madre y mi querida sobrina dulce – from Barcelona with love.

per mia madre e mia cara dolce nipote – from Milan with love.

pour ma mère et ma chère douce nièce – from Paris with love.

annem ve sevgili yeğenim için – from Istanbul with love.

…for my mother and my dear sweet niece – from Dulles with love.

–          Marceen A. Burgher

A Valentine Cheer in Europe was originally published on Passport Required

#African American Travel. Black Travel #Barcelona #Black In Paris #Black Women Travel #Darnell Lamont #Istanbul #Milan #Travel Blog #Travel Bloggers #Tumblr Travel Photography #TumblrTravel

[dulcusdomus-blog]

Inner Warmth

Summary: After not being able to fall asleep, Lucy is surprised to find Natsu–a boy who had passed out on her doorstep, making Lucy drag him into her apartment and onto her couch– awake and sitting on her balcony.

Genre: Fluff, AU

Rated T for language.

It’s not exactly romantic and it’s pretty short, but... enjoy lol

——————————————————

Lucy couldn’t sleep.

Plus, it was hot in her room. And cold. She stuck her foot out of the covers, but then it was too cold and her foot felt too bare, so she put her foot back in. Then it was hot all over again.

It was November, and she couldn’t remember if she had payed the bills for the month. It had been rough the last couple of months, and money was shallow. She had taken odd jobs, praying for money. Everyone kept mentioning how she could sell her celestial keys for money, but there was no chance in hell she would ever sell her keys. Her friends.

She slung her feet over her bed, glancing at her alarm clock. Two in the morning. She let out a sigh. It was only three hours ago that the cute boy with the pink hair and his blue cat crashed into her balcony, his loud snores waking her. She mentally cursed him. If he hadn’t woken her, maybe she would still be asleep.

She managed to drag him onto her couch so he could at least sleep in peace. What if the poor guy got kidnapped or something? Plus, it would be embarrassing to have people walking by and seeing a boy passed out on her doorstep. People would probably think she’d done something to him. She really hoped he wasn’t a weirdo.

Maybe it would be a good idea to check on him, she thought. After all, who knows what the guy was like. For all she knows, he could be out there, going through her stuff, looking for money or jewelry or whatever. She stood, the hair on her legs bristling from the cold air drafting through the house.

But that was odd. Her apartment was hot just a few seconds ago. She looked around her room, spotting a baseball bat. She picked it up, then slipped her celestial keys in her pocket, just in case. Slowly, she opened the door, looking out into the main room. Her couch was empty. She crept into the room, noticing he had deposited his bag on the other side of the couch, and the blue cat was slumped on the side of it, purring in his sleep.

He was still there.

Lucy knew she was probably being paranoid, but you never know when there’s a crazy person somewhere in your apartment. Suddenly, she heard a creak in her kitchen.

At that point, Lucy was scared out of her pants. She took a deep breath. “Get yourself together, Lucy.” She swiftly rounded the corner into the kitchen, pointing her bat, ready to start swinging. But it was just the fridge door, swaying back and forth because of the draft. There was an empty granola bar wrapper on her counter, and also an apple core. She threw it in the trash, wiping the juices on her shorts. Maybe the guy got hungry?

The cold draft had to be coming from her patio, at the other side of the apartment. She slightly lowered her bat, headed towards the sliding doors. One of them was open. She peeked her head outside, and there he was.

His salmon pink hair was swaying slightly in the wind. The white, scaly scarf he had on last night was in his hands as he rubbed a thumb over the lines. A scar on his neck was revealed, and the gash made Lucy cringe.

Lucy slowly backed out of the doorway. She hoped he would still be there in the morning for him to talk to. She was curious as to what he was doing when he randomly appeared. But the edge of her bat hit the wall, creating a large thump, which scared herself, making her drop the bat, creating another thump against the floor. She winced, knowing he was now aware of her presence.

When she looked up, he was looking at her. His eyes fixed on hers, and he gave a sheepish smile. “Oh. Hey,” He said. The sound of his voice almost startled her. His appearances made it seem like his voice should be low and rough, but it was light and airy. It was sweet.

Lucy then realized she was staring, so she quickly looked away, heat rising up her neck. “Hi.”

“So... I guess I should explain, huh?” He laughed.

Lucy walked up next to him on the balcony, looking down on the streets. “Well, Maybe. I wasn’t exactly expecting to drag a dude into my house,” Lucy said, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, sorry. I was out with some buddies, and then we started playing this drinking game with a friend, Cana. She bet I would get completely slam-dunk drunk after five shots. So I took ten,” He said, smirking.

“Are you serious?” Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. And then I got hungry, so I decided to ditch Cana and find a restaurant. And then I got lost and passed out, apparently on your step.”

“Hmm. That’s an... interesting story.” Lucy hummed awkwardly, not looking at his face. She wasn’t sure if she should believe him or not.

“Yeah, well,” He sighed. “I don’t do smart things. Only fun things.”

After a few moments, Lucy finally looked back up at him. He was wrapping the scarf back around his neck with a faraway look in his eyes. Obviously, something was hurting him. And it was connected to the scarf, whatever it was. Lucy could tell.

“What’s your name?” Lucy asked, rubbing her arms to warm them from the fall breeze nipping at her skin.

He gave a sharp toothy-grin “Natsu. And my friend is Happy.”

“The cat?” Natsu nodded. “His name is Happy?” Lucy questioned. It was an unusual name.

“It’s a long story.”

“Oh. Uh, well, I’m Lucy.”

“Nice to meet you, officially,” Natsu said, smiling.

Lucy’s teeth began to chatter. The temperature must’ve been dropping. She noticed he only had on a white t-shirt and baggy shorts, much like herself. He didn’t show the slightest sign of being cold at all. Not even any goosebumps.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Lucy asked.

He shrugged. “I’m never cold.”

“Well, your skin must be like ice,” Lucy laughed. She curiously reached up and put a hand on his forearm, but the sensation he got shocked him. His skin was hot. Not super hot, but Lucy was surprised it wasn’t steaming against the November air.

“Woah. How...” She laid another hand on his arm. It was the weirdest thing. She’d never felt anything like it. She could feel the warmth traveling from his arm into her veins, warming her whole body. She sighed, relaxing into his inner warmth.

She then jolted out of her state, realizing she was holding his arm still. “Shit, sorry. I kinda just groped your arm,” Lucy blushed profusely, quickly removing her hands and stepping away.

He laughed. “You’re fine. Give me your hands again.”

Natsu seemed a little weird. She wasn’t sure how she was to feel about a guy she literally had known for less than ten minutes. Hesitantly, she held her hands out. He scooped them up in his own rough hands, and the warm sensation returned to her body. Her eyes closed, and she felt herself relax once again.

“Is this your magic?” Lucy asked, still feeling like she was floating on a warm cloud.

“Sort of. Technically, I’m a Fire Dragon Slayer, but I can warm people up too–“

“Wait. A fire dragon what now? As in the Fire Dragon Slayer?”

“I wouldn’t say the–“

“You’re the Salamander!” Lucy exclaimed, smiling wide.

Natsu blushed, removing one of his hands to scratch the back of his neck. “I guess.”

Lucy could barely contain herself. She heard that The Salamander was to be in town, but she figured the crowd would be so big to see him that she wouldn’t get even a glance. However, she didn’t say anything else. He probably hated being crowded and chased around.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Hmm?”

Lucy sighed. “I won’t tell any of my friends you were here. It probably sucks being chased around.”

“I don’t really get chased around a lot, actually. I don’t exactly look the part of a Dragon Slayer.”

Lucy looked at his pink hair. “Huh. I guess not.”

Natsu still had Lucy’s hands in his. “I’m just on my way back to Fairy Tail.”

“Fairy Tail?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide.

Natsu pulled his left sleeve up, revealing the red mark of Fairy Tail. “Yeah. Why?”

Lucy thought about having a mark of her own. She wasn’t sure where she would put it. “Oh. It’s always been a dream of mine to go to Fairy Tail. I always see Mira and Erza in Sorcerer Weekly, and I wish I could meet them, I guess.”

“You use magic too, then?” Natsu asked.

Lucy withdrew her hands to grab her keys from her pocket, even though she didn’t enjoy the feeling of Natsu’s warmth draining from her. She showed her celestial keys to Natsu, explaining the different spirits she had contracts with. She even summoned Virgo, just to show Natsu how it worked.

“That’s really cool, Lucy. You should come with me to Fairy Tail. Y’know, just check it out.” Natsu said.

“W-what? Me? At Fairy Tail? I’m not good enough to get in...” Lucy said, shoving her keys back into her pocket.

“It doesn’t matter how good you are. Anyone is welcome.”

Lucy rubbed her fingers over her keys. She’d always dreamt of being a part of Fairy Tail. Maybe even one day being on the cover of Sorceror Weekly. Her father popped into her mind, though. That, and another million reasons not to go. Lucy pushed them away. It couldn’t hurt to visit, right?

“Okay. I guess I’ll tag along,” Lucy sighed.

Natsu fist pumped. “Yes! This’ll be so cool.”

Lucy yawned. She’s been up since one, and if she was going to Fairy Tail in the morning, then she had a long day ahead of her.

“I’d better go to bed then,” Lucy said, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. Busy day tomorrow, I guess.”

“Right.” Lucy blushed. She would be traveling with Natsu tomorrow, and Happy, too. She had a feeling it would be the start of a new chapter in her life. A great new chapter. “Well, I’m going to go now,” She laughed nervously.

“Okay. Good night.”

Lucy walked back into her apartment and into her bedroom. As she pulled the covers over herself, she thought about Natsu. He was sweet. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. She hoped they would remain friends for a while.

And as she slept, she dreamt of the adventures she would go on when she would join Fairy Tail.

#dolcusdomus #nalu #Natsu and Lucy #Natsu x Lucy #Fairy Tail #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction