#I am actually amused by the idea of having a few recipes with ingredients decided by a poll lmao

[chasing-stardust-22]

Soup cookbook, great idea, we shall fill it with recipes made exclusively from tumblr polls

dtblr test kitchen - experimental/"joke" recipes written by committee

one of them would probably be like. half ice

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Hiya! I love your blog! Could I please request a platonic Akane x reader x Aoi where th reader is their best friend and they are a trio (Aoi finding reader to be one of the few people she can be herself with and also being a wingman (wingwoman? Wingperson?) for Akane) and the reader decides to make a raspberry pie for Aoi with Akane since she's been seeming down lately but none of them can't cook and reck everything so they get a mildly amused Aoi to help them despite wanting it to be a surprise

(platonic) akane aoi x gn!reader and x akane

a/n: hello hello!! Love these guys!! I can’t remember the last time i wrote for aoi, so that’s definitely fun!! Thank you so much for requesting, and thank you for the compliment!! <3

warnings:

word count: 1,583

Seeing Aoi feeling down was unusual. When you asked her about it, she told you she wasn’t sure why either. “I’m fine, (Y/N). It’s just one of those weeks, you know?”

Yes, you definitely knew. But, it didn’t make it any better. All you could do was be there for her, and rely on Akane to be the one to make her laugh- he’d be there as well, but his confessions always brought a smile to her face. When the smile she usually wore at one of his attempts was blatantly empty, Akane approached you as well.

“She’s feeling really out of it,” He sighed, looking at the school’s beauty from across the room. She was watering the plants, eyes slightly downcast, though she “cheered up” when someone took notice of her. No matter her smile and raised eyebrows, for you and Akane, it was easy to see through. All you could do was nod. He didn’t need to point it out- you both were aware. It was just him… noting it. Getting it off his chest?

“Say, Akane, do you have anything to do after school?”

“Technically, I have to do things for the student council. Teru usually takes my work load when I’m ‘not doing it properly’ or ‘getting on his nerves’, which entails simply existing, but- I can get out of duties, if you need me to.”

“I was thinking… Aoi likes sweets, yeah? What if we made her a pie or something? Dropped it by her house after we’re finished?”

Akane raised his eyebrows, nodding in agreement. “That’s actually a good idea. You know how to make pie?”

“Nnnno, but, there’s gotta be a recipe online, or in a cookbook somewhere. While you get your student council stuff done, I can run to the store quickly.”

He nodded again, telling you that it sounded like a plan.

If only that enthusiasm could have influenced the results-

“It can’t be too hard!” You had said, looking at the array of ingredients after washing your hands.

“For Ao-chan, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“A piece of-”

“Please don’t-”

“Pie.”

Akane rolled his eyes, looking over the recipe. “Anyway, preheat the oven to 425.”

You walked over to the oven, preheating it, then feeling rather proud of yourself. One step down, only so many more to go! Easy-peasy!

Grabbing a pie plate, you reached for the pastry. “I’ll roll out the crust if you’ll work on the filling?”

“Alright… I just put everything in it?”

“Yeah. Measure the stuff and whatnot.”

Akane grabbed the ingredients, putting the necessary amount into a bowl, as you glanced at the recipe.

“Oh, but not the egg or water-”

“...(Y/N), I swear to-”

You tensed as Akane sighed in frustration, walking to the trashcan and pouring the combination of ingredients into it. He rinsed the bowl lightly, before taking the recipe and reading it over once more. After reading it, he began to make the mixture properly, not sparing you a slightly annoyed- though harmless- glance. He mixed, then pushed the bowl your way.

“I mixed, you put it in.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, as you poured the mixture on top of the crust, then wet the outside of the crust lightly. Once that was finished, you reached for the rest of the pastry, setting a knife aside as you rolled it out.

“Are we gonna make it all criss-crossed?” Akane asked, walking over to you, and peering down as you took the knife.

“Yep, as best we- aH ouch, ouch,” You yelped, dropping the knife and bringing your hand to your mouth.

“Oi, don’t put your hand in your mouth- you’ve been touching the dough, wash it off first.”

You grumbled, walking to the sink and wincing as you washed your bleeding finger off. Luckily, it was nothing more than a knick, but it still hurt-

“You got blood in the dough,” Akane groaned, walking over to you and placing the knife and plate in the sink, then tossing the dough. He walked over to the counter, taking an extra thing of dough that he was now glad you bought, and rolling it out. He took it upon himself to slice the bits, telling you to mix the egg and water while he did so.

So, he placed the slices over the pie, and you lightly applied the egg-water mixture, smiling as he crimped the edges. You sprinkled a small amount of sugar over the top, then placed your hands on your hips proudly. Akane shoved the pie in your direction, then motioned to the oven.

“Cook for 15 minutes, then, once that’s over, we’ll lower the heat and cook it a little longer.”

“50? Isn’t that a little long?”

“15? Not really, no, not unless you have a plane to catch.”

You shrugged, placing the pie in the oven, then setting the time for 50 minutes. All that was left to do was wait.

You walked back over to Akane, then took a seat on the floor. He looked down at you, then followed your actions. “You think Ao-chan will like it?” He asked after a moment, causing you to shrug once more.

“I think so. Heartfelt things are supposed to mean more, right? Nothing gets more heartfelt than a homemade pie. Though store bought would have been easier, the trial and error just makes it better. At least, that’s what I hope-”

“That’s true. You’ve got the cut to prove it.”

“Shut it, four-eyes.”

Akane laughed, as the conversation continued lightly. Mainly talking about Aoi, drifting to how you hoped she’d feel better, drifting to how the pie smell was starting to get strong.

“I told you, Akane, I feel like 50 minutes is a little too long.”

“...HOW MUCH-”

“50?? Did you not say 50???”

“50? Five-zero?”

“Yes???”

“I SAID 15- ONE-FIVE, FREAKING-”

You both jumped up, running to the oven. You turned it off, while Akane grabbed the oven mitts, opening the oven and grabbing the pie. The brown, slightly smoking pie. The burn smell filled the room, but… at least it still smelled somewhat like raspberries…?

“(Y/N), we’re friends- but more importantly, you’re one of Ao-chan’s best friends- so I won’t say what I’m thinking. But I do want you to know, I have a few choice words that I’m keeping to myself.”

“Maybe you should enunciate-?! You’re top of the class, and for what???”

“Okay, first of all-”

“(Y/N)? Akane?”

“Ao-chan..” Akane muttered, in sync with your, ”Aoi...”

The purple-haired girl sniffed lightly, before her eyes landed on the pie resting in front of the two of you. Her expression was pure curiosity, practically asking the both of you “what’s going on?”

“Ah… Akane and I were just trying to… make a pie…”

“What for? You guys know I can cook, I would have helped.”

“Well- it was supposed to be for you, Ao-chan. We ran into… some misunderstandings though.”

Aoi’s surprised expression melted into genuine joy, which quickly melted into sweet laughter. You saw Akane’s face flush slightly from the corner of your eyes, and you couldn’t blame him- even platonically, her laugh really was purely… music. She was laughing at the two of you, you both knew that- but, the two of you made her laugh. For the first time that week, she was smiling, laughing. She was happy. You and Akane exchanged victorious glances, fist bumping underneath the counter.

“Ah, it can’t be helped then. (Y/N), Akane, are there extra ingredients?”

You nodded, grabbing the extra things of dough from a grocery bag, then motioning at the already-out ingredients.

“Great! Akane, preheat the oven please? 425 for now.”

Akane nodded, walking over to the oven and preheating it. While he did that, Aoi handed you the dough, and took over the ingredients for the filling. “Roll that out, please, (Y/N). I’ll take the filling- but, Akane, I’ll trust you to roll out the second thing of dough. I can cut it and apply it to the pie,” She ordered, placing the necessary ingredients into the bowl. The way she went about things was neat, showing off her perfectionist tendencies. Compared to the mess you and Akane had created earlier… she really was a diamond in the rough.

---

Time had passed, the pie finished and cooled off, though the sun was nearly gone. Aoi cut the pie, offering the both of you a slice, then taking one for herself. Cheerily, she took a bite, as you and Akane followed suit.

The sweet smell filled the room, so much nicer than the burning smell created earlier. The taste was just as lovely- accompanied with Aoi’s smiles, everything in the world suddenly felt right again.

“Even if it didn’t go as you two planned, I am really grateful for you both. I know the two of you wanted to try and cheer me up… I think this was a really sweet way of going about it. And, to be completely honest, I am feeling better.”

“Ao-chan… I love you so much…!”

“Hmm… 5 points! 3 bonuses for the pie.”

Akane sighed lightheartedly, taking another bite from the pie.

“Aoi, I love you so much,” You spoke, placing a hand on your chest and smiling at the girl. “Platonically, of course-”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” Aoi smiled, closing her eyes cutely.

“(Y/N), those choice words from earlier really are seeming very nice to share with you-”

[sanderssides-springfling]

To Woo A Snake

for @ionlyeatcomfortfood

Synopsis: a DLAMP hogwarts au! Roman, Virgil, Logan, and Patton all find themselves crushing on a certain snake. As they’re already dating each other, they make it their personal mission to see if one more might be added to their relationship.

This was super fun to write, and I’m sorry I’m not the best at Hogwarts au’s but I hope you like this!

This is really fluffy so there’s not really any warnings, besides the mention of cults in general a few times in passing and also my horrific attempt at writing something that resembles flirting.

Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil had a problem and it was one they intended to solve. They sat in the quietest corner of the surprisingly busy library, a small bit of privacy created by a wall of books. Logan had control of a large piece of parchment, scribbling down notes with his quill as fast as he could. Between Roman, Virgil, and him the suggestions were rapid fire with only Patton to keep them calm.

“What if we tried using big signs with an accompanied song and dance? We could do a Disney medley!” Roman suggested, waving his arms around to mimic the proposed song and dance. Logan and Virgil looked confused, with Virgil looking almost disgusted. Patton attempted a supportive glance, but Virgil spoke up.

“Ignoring whatever the hell a Disney is, no. Obviously not. We agreed no public humiliation and this is public humiliation to a tee, just imagine the looks! The taunts! We won’t be able to go to the great hall for weeks!” Virgil said, attempting to scribble out Roman’s idea. Roman retaliated by muttering something about purebloods being “uncultured” before Virgil continued his point, “Besides, how does that even solve anything? That’s just an excuse for you to sing, when we should be focusing on the problem!”

The problem in question was called Janus, or Deceit if you were one of their crueler classmates. He was a Slytherin in their year and good friends with all of them. He stood out to most for two things. The first being scales that covered half his face, bleeding into snake-like eyes and -if you were paying close enough attention- an almost-forked tongue. The second was the fact that he wore a bowler hat and long yellow rubber gloves over their uniform robes. Most people found him weird, however those four all found him ridiculously attractive. Not only that, but they decided that, if he agreed, they would want him as a part of their relationship. Now, all there was to do was decide on how to go about asking him.

The worst part is that they barely had any experience to work with. What they had, really, just kind of happened. By the time they were third years it was just universally acknowledged that they loved each other. Without even speaking the words, it was just a fact. It was made official that year, sure, but there was no question of if, only of when. This was different. They didn’t even know if he liked them in that way or not. Trying to figure out how not to get horribly rejected made them start to understand the hordes of people confused about how they managed to pull their four person relationship off. Heck, it made them start to wonder how they did it.

It was completely new territory for the past almost-year. More days than not one of them would end up a blushing and flustered mess over Janus and they’d all end up gushing about him.

Logan spoke up in an attempt to calm down his boyfriends, “Think about this logically, all four of us at once would likely overwhelm him, so it would be better for us to approach him one at a time, possibly doing small tests to see if our attraction is reciprocated.”

“Logan, do you mean flirting? Do you want us to flirt with him?” Virgil laughed, more amused than making fun of.

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, “Yes, I suppose “flirting” is what I am suggesting we attempt, although I would normally be against a less direct method I believe as we are uncertain of his interest level, running an experiment would make the most logical sense. He may be polyamourous, however making an uneducated assumption could result in the loss of his friendship-something I assume none of use are keen to.”

Patton smiled, more genuine than his earlier false support. Roman and Virgil seemed to look content as well. It was a vague enough compromise, and let Virgil’s worries of “public humiliation” be postponed for another day. There began their attempt to woo a snake.

******

Patton sat impatiently, grinning as he waited for Janus to arrive at Potions class. Yes, he was excited every day for Janus to arrive as they were good friends, however today was special. He was going to let his feelings be known, at least a little bit more. Honestly, he was bad at keeping his adoration hidden, but at least this time it would (hopefully) be more clearly romantic.

He sat behind his cauldron, all the ingredients for that day’s potion layed out in front of him. He tried not to think about this going badly, swinging his feet around under the desk. He took a look at the confusing potion recipe and immediately knew his time would be more spent on Janus than on this.

The teacher didn’t care if he was paying attention or not, having given up on him after his horrible cooking skills seemed to translate to potion making. Not to mention he was a Hufflepuff, who were notorious for having no collective understanding of potions, in a class with Slytherins, the recipients of blatant favoritism. He never stood a chance.

As he was poking the materials, looking for good puns, he felt a familiar presence take the seat next to him. He looked the same as usual. Taller than him, with bright yellow gloves that happened to match Patton’s tie, multicolored eyes. Suddenly, a sense of panic washed over him.

 Oh god. What was he even doing? He was so nice and smart and caring! Patton was just Patton! He was already running his luck with his four amazing boyfriends, he was bound to run out eventually! What could he possibly want with him! aaaaaAAAAA-

“Patton? Are you doing okay?” Janus asked, trying to meet his eyes. Patton probably looked terrified, his internal panic bleeding all over his face. Janus hesitantly put his hand on Patton’s shoulder, and he almost died. No matter how many times it happened, he would never get over the emotional roller-coaster of a crush.

“Yeah, Jay, I’m doing good!” Patton said, trying his best to cover his panic with a smile. Janus looked him over, as if he didn’t buy the quick change from panic to his usual bubbly self.

“Very believable Patton, honestly you should win one of those muggle Oscars,” Janus said, in an over-dramatic tone that called Patton’s bluff. When Patton made no moves to actually explain, Janus got more serious, “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, I’m not going to make you, but you need to take care of yourself. If there’s something bothering you, please don’t overwork yourself.”

There he went again, making sure Patton wasn’t pushing down his own needs. This was a conversation that happened more often than it probably should have. It may have been a generally platonic gesture, however it did nothing to help the crush brewing in his stomach.

“Yeah! I’m fine, really this time. Promise, kiddo!” Patton said, letting the bubbly feeling override the nerves. He was fine, if not a little nervous. How could he not be fine, with one of the people he loved the most right next to him!

“Patton, I am 6 months older than you.”

“Age is just a number the government pays attention to and also affects our day to day life!”

Janus gave out a light snort and turned back to the potion recipe. He went quickly to the work, letting Patton help more or less whenever he wanted to. Janus was definitely more adept at potion-making than he was so their agreement to let Janus handle most of the work was both unspoken and sturdy.

Suddenly, a small part of Patton wished he had made a plan like Logan and Virgil suggested, though he knew that was never something he was ever going to do. He loved all his boyfriends very much, but he and Roman were most alike when it came to romance. It should be spontaneous! Speaking from the heart!

Sadly, the heart was hard to hear over the rising levels of panic.

Janus made quick work of the first few steps, before handing a piece of wormwood to him. Patton was apparently responsible for the small chopping board. He was ready to slice, dice, and crush whatever they would need! Hopefully not his hand, though.

“Patton, could you cut that up for me?” Janus asked casually, before turning to his dramatic tone, “After all, you are so adept in this class, especially with sharp objects. I totally don’t need you to worry about being careful and am definitely not trying to let you be included. You’re just the best man for the job!”

It fell in between insult and concern, but twisted his heart nonetheless. He chopped up the wormwood as quickly as possible, like on the muggle cooking shows he loved back home. He came very close to losing a few digits, yes, however it was for the most part a success. In the moments he spent trying to slice up the ingredient, he came up with a genius strategy. Puns.

“Here you go Jay! But before that, I have to ask,” Patton said, moving to reveal the completely expertly chopped plant, “worm-would you be mine?”

Janus took the wormwood with his eyes widened and a more-than-subtle blush on his face. For a second, Patton worried that he freaked Jay out. Fortunately, Janus resumed his usual focused, if not smug, expression. The blush didn’t seem to make any effort at leaving, though. It was all the invitation Patton needed to push down his worry and keep going.

“Do newt go breaking my heart!” 

“You’ve flobberworm-ed your way into my heart!”

“You make me weak in the peo-knees!”

Some were better than others, yes, but over the course of the whole class Jay never once spoke out to complain. His face maintained its blush, but it didn’t seem to be in embarrassment. He seemed almost… happy? After every pun he could see a surprised smile cross him for just a moment before resuming his usual expression.

Patton decided to consider that a successful “experiment trial”, as Logan would call it. Maybe their efforts wouldn’t be disastrous after all.

****

Roman was, for all intents and purposes, hyped about the quidditch game he would be playing in less than ten minutes. He was jogging around the pitch in anticipation, doubling it as extended warm ups. He would need it, his future courtship might hinge on the success of this game.

Okay, so maybe Roman didn’t have a “plan”. Whatever. What would he need a plan for when he had pure unadulterated romance? He already knew the only two things he needed to know: 1) It was going to be awesome 2) refer to thing one. So what if Virgil said that it might be a bad idea? His boyfriend was an absolute cynic and this would be great.

He finished his jogging, which could have been seen as pointless considering that quidditch was a sport played in the air, and mounted his broom. The team captain gave a little speech, the same one she gave before every game. Blah blah blah, Ravenclaw would be hard to beat, they needed teamwork blah blah blah. She knew they all knew this stuff but claimed it was good for morale, so they listened anyways. By the time she finished, he was more than ready to begin his position as Gryffindor Seeker Extraordinaire.

Step one, besides getting in position and staring down the opposing seeker (who of course just HAD to be his brother, Remus), was locating Janus. This wasn’t hard.

 Janus, while thoroughly disgusted with the incredibly dangerous and injury-riddled sport that was quidditch, he had no problem voicing these disgusts to the whole school. He had been the commentator ever since first year, when he refused to get on a broom during flying class. He claimed it wasn’t out of fear, although Roman could remember the look in his eyes suggesting otherwise. Either way, he agreed to be the commentator in exchange for never so much as looking at a quaffle or a snitch ever again.

He could barely see Janus, but his voice rang out loud and clear throughout the stadium, his slightly amused commentary voice preparing the crowd for the match. Speaking of the crowd, his boyfriends were there to support him like always. They weren’t hard to spot, sitting in the same seats as always.

Patton had a hyper level of support as per usual, face painted in red and gold despite being a Hufflepuff. Logan was holding a small “Go Ravenclaw!” flag and waved it a little as he caught Roman’s eye. Sure he talked big talk about being completely rational and logical, but he was just as petty and contrarian as Roman was. He loved it. Virgil looked very supportive, and gave a soft smile as Roman looked over at him. This quickly transformed into a look of “Please, Roman, don’t cause a scene this time”. It was a look he was well acquainted with. He waved over at them, grinning wide. He even threw in a wink to Virgil, letting him know that he would be sorely disappointed.

He regained his focus and the whistle blew, signaling the start of the match. The snitch zipped to the edge of the pitch at the speed of light as Roman chased after it. It moved like a scared rabbit, twitchy and fast as lightning. He raced Remus around, neck in neck every second of the way. He paid attention to Janus as he raced, using his words to pay attention to the surrounding pitch. Turns out Gryffindor managed to score two points in the first five minutes. Ravenclaw scored four, but that’s besides the point.

All of a sudden, an object came hurtling from the corner of his eye. He did a downwards corkscrew maneuver, spinning with a small nosedive. The sound of swishing air went over his head, before the crack of a beater’s bat sounded the offending bludger flying in the opposite direction. As soon as he got back upright, Janus noted his return. Taking a brief pause, he moved one hand from the broom and blew Janus a kiss. Janus’ voice seemed to take a brief stutter, catching on his next words. Roman hoped he was the cause.

The chase began again as Roman looked for the snitch. Luckily Remus seemed just as lost as he was, because he was not losing his big moment to his gremlin of a younger twin brother. Another bludger flew right at Roman, making him scramble to dodge. Seriously, he was starting to think they were aiming for him. This time, as he regained balance, he threw an exaggerated wink at Janus. His voice seemed to catch again, letting Roman know that he had to be the cause. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence.

The rest of the match seemed to follow suit. He would desperately chase after the snitch, occasionally swerving to dodge bludgers and even his own teammates when he was at his most focused. Every time he had a moment to pause, he’d give Janus a wink or a smile or blow a kiss. This included the time that Janus, slightly reluctantly, complemented Roman’s seeking skills and Roman mimed out being struck by cupid’s bow. Nothing too outrageous, nothing that would cause Virgil and Logan to be baffled by his utter lack of self preservation when it came to public humiliation. 

Roman and Remus were on each other’s tails, like they had been the majority of the hour they had been playing. The downfall of having twin seekers was that they almost seemed to move in sync sometimes. Every push forward was met with the other striking back just as hard. They were in a scrambled chase as the golden snitch pulled them from place to place, changing pace and direction at a whim.

The snitch dove down, twenty or so feet from where they were both flying. Janus restated the scores, voice bored and bitter but still attentive, and Roman saw his chance. If he caught it now, they’d win. He dove down a little bit deeper than the snitch did, hoping to guess where it was going. He guessed wrong, and the snitch flew away from his hands, leaving him grasping at air. He could hear Janus laugh just a little bit, not maliciously but amused.

It was Remus’ turn to attempt at the snitch while Roman momentarily turned around. Fortunately the snitch blazed right past him, and they both went zooming. Pressing forward as fast as they could, it was like Remus realized that Roman intended to end the match then and there. Maybe twins really did have a psychic connection.

They went faster and faster, getting as close as they could, reaching out desperately for the cold metal. They were so close he could practically reach out and touch Remus’ hand. He reached out as the snitch came to an abrupt stop. It happened in the blink of an eye, but he was ever so slightly faster. He grabbed the snitch and grasped it firmly in his fist, refusing to let it go. He did it. They won.

Catching the snitch made Roman want to do something impulsive. Fortunately, Roman had very poor impulse control skills, so this was easy. He took the small metal ball out of his tight grip and took it tenderly between his fingers. The rest of the team was starting to wonder what on earth he was doing, but there was no stopping him. He, as carefully as he could, stepped on top of his broom. Yes, any wrong move would send him plummeting to many many broken bones and possibly certain doom, but this was the awesome thing he was waiting for.

He held up the snitch, letting it reflect against the sun as he stared right through it and at Janus. His hand outstretched, he began to speak.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks! ‘Tis the east, and Janus is the sun. Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her knave, art more fair than she!” Roman recited, suddenly wishing Hogwarts had a theater club. Every person there was staring holes into him, including his team and boyfriends. No one knew what exactly just happened, including Roman.

Janus hadn’t quite turned off the microphone, so he heard a second of sputtering before going silent. He got back on his broom and flew down, handing over the snitch to a confused Coach. The exhilaration and the exercise had his face still flushed by the time he walked off the quidditch pitch, to be approached by his boyfriends.

“Dude. Woah,” Virgil said, and he couldn’t quite tell if he was impressed, shocked, confused, or all three. Before anyone else could get a word in, the four enveloped themselves in a group hug.

“You did so good Ro!” Patton complimented, almost vibrating in excitement. Patton possibly loved quidditch even more than Roman did, although he was still a beginner. Roman offered to teach him, but Patton swore he felt best behind in the crowd.

“I have to agree with Patton, Roman your performance was indeed exemplary,” Logan said, tone even and objective. The legitimate pride and love did of course seep through. 

“Yeah, Princey, I forget how good you are at that,” Virgil said, thoroughly impressed. “Though we have to discuss the elephant in the room here: How are you not dying of embarrassment? I was practically shaking just looking at you.”

“It’s about the gusto! The romance of it all!” Roman said, lifting out his hands in a flourish, “No need to shake, my chemical romance, because I think that went unbelievably well!”

Logan nodded along as if that made sense enough, Virgil snorted, and Patton smiled.

“Ro, if it is any consolation you definitely would have woo’d my socks right off!” Patton said, moving to press a quick kiss to Roman’s cheek.

Roman left with his boyfriends, absolutely confident about his flirting mastery, even after Logan questioned why he chose a quote from “the muggle play with the excessive amounts of death”. Roman then spent the next hour explaining Romeo and Juliet to Logan, with Virgil attempting to undermine him at every step, despite having no real knowledge of muggle literature. *****

Transfiguration was where Virgil and Logan decided they’d proceed with their experiment. Based on the results of Roman and Patton, it seemed like they would probably be at least semi-successful, however they didn’t want to leave room for error. Hence, doing it at the same time. They would likely work more confidently together, and the other person would be able to gauge the reaction more accurately.

They read some of Roman’s muggle romance novels for inspiration the previous nights. They obviously couldn’t go into it unprepared and admittedly neither of them were romantic experts. Virgil didn’t mind them too much, besides the clearly disturbing elements of certain stories that were being passed off as romantic. Did muggles think stalkers were attractive? Logan on the other hand flat out didn’t understand half the stories. How anyone could behave so illogically towards a near stranger, he would never comprehend.

The two of them sat at their desks, staring at the assignment in front of them. It was mostly instructions on how to turn the dead beetles in front of them into buttons and, as always, Virgil was near convinced it was impossible. Ok, he knew it wasn’t impossible- his two magical parents made a big deal of trying to teach him this sort of stuff from as long as he could remember. They wanted him to be their magical genius trophy kid. He was not their magical genius trophy kid.

Due to his magical abilities being really mediocre and transfiguration being really hard, Virgil just stared at his wand and his bugs and sighed. Doubt and worry snuck in, about all of it. He was almost certain he couldn’t do it, any of it, and that it would be a huge disaster. The weight of the anxiety he had been trying to ignore pressed down on him like his own personal gravity.

“Great, can’t wait to not only ruin the whole flirting thing for the rest of you, but also completely tank this assignment. Fantastic,” Virgil said, burying his face in his hands, dreading even picking up the wand. Logan turned to him, a comforting smile on his face, and pulled Virgil’s hands from his face.

“Virgil, you’re going to be fine. As far as this class goes you are doing just fine and if you begin to struggle, I’m here to help you. As far as Janus goes, however he reacts isn’t up to you. You cannot assume anything. I do know, from experience, that you are an amazing individual and he would be lucky to have you. Objectively,” Logan adjusted his glasses as he said the last word. He always did get uncomfortable with his emotions. It made Virgil chuckle just a little, the weight lifting just a little.

As their conversation drifted to other things, such as which teachers were most likely to start a cult, Janus walked in and took the seat next to Logan. They made sure not to pay too much attention to him as he walked in, something from Roman’s books about “playing hard to get”. Still, a wave of nervousness went through Virgil, as if their trial had finally begun.

“Anyways, I think you could honestly make the argument that care of magical creatures is already a cult, if an inhuman one,” Logan argued as Janus looked at their assignment for the day, already turning over to be let into the conversation, “Janus, you’re finally here. What professor would lead the best cult?”

Janus pretended to think it over, before giving a fake earnest look, “Magical History, easily. The professor’s boring, long yarns really adds to the charisma. The way he puts people to sleep really has the command of a real leader.”

Virgil snorted, shaking his head, “You’re both so wrong, it’s easily the coach. You’ve seen the quidditch teams- they’re already halfway to cult status.”

“Coach does not count as a real professor, but fine,” Logan said, turning his attention to their actual classwork. The teacher wasn’t going to actually try and teach them anything, seeing as Ravenclaws had a fifty percent chance of blowing it off and a fifty percent chance of doing it faster than he could teach, Slytherins would very loudly race each other to do it the fastest and the best, and both together created a very uniquely bad teaching environment.

The assignment went by fairly quickly and painlessly. Despite frustratingly worded instructions, they got through it easily enough. Virgil did eventually have a difficult time trying to get the transformation right, but with Janus and Logan’s attempts at teaching him, he got through it with time to spare. They then did what they did most days, had in depth conversations about subjects that didn’t particularly matter all that much. Logan decided this was the perfect place to try flirting.

“Hey Janus,” Logan said, diverting the conversation from Janus, who had experience with muggle culture, quizzing Virgil, who had no experience with muggle culture, about what exactly he thought Pokemon was, “are you, in any capacity, attracted to me?”

Janus blushed and choked on air while Virgil looked somewhere between shock and disbelief. Logan saw nothing inherently wrong with what he said, it was direct and to the point, something many of Roman’s protagonists could benefit from. It would hopefully avoid any “hijinks” built on miscommunication.

Janus cleared his throat, forcing the look of panic down. He put on his most performative smile, using the dramatic gestures he usually donned while lying, “Of course Logan, why- can’t you tell? I’m completely in love with you!” He even batted his eyelashes a few times for good measure. Despite all of the obvious signs, Logan could tell this wasn’t quite a lie. Exaggerated and dramatized, but not completely wrong.

Virgil seemed to pick up on this too, however he did not look any less baffled by the situation as a whole. Virgil chose to stay silent for now, figuring he didn’t want to make a weird situation even weirder. Then, Logan decided to speak up.

“Okay. Would you say you have a willingness and/or a want to be in a relationship with multiple people? Including myself and Virgil?” Logan somehow managed to say this in the same flat tone he always spoke, as if this were some commonplace obvious question.

Janus dropped his act, becoming momentarily serious, “Logan if this is some roundabout way of asking if I’m polyamorous, I already told you I was a few weeks ago, and yes, I would be open to a relationship right now, potentially with you and Virgil.”

Virgil, in his nervous bafflement, carefully reached towards Janus, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure?” he asked, less sure of whether or not this was just another, more discreet, act.

“No, Virgil. In fact, I’ve been playing the long con with you. My name is Jacob, I’m straight and am getting engaged to my long-time girlfriend Kayleigh,” Janus said, tone becoming performative once again. The obvious lie lightened the conversation and made the incessant drumming of Virgil’s heartbeat chill out momentarily.

The three of them tried to take the awkward conversation in stride, moving on to topics like how useful was divination, really and which muggle philosophers were totally secret muggleborns. It was surprisingly easy getting back into their normal conversations, but once class was over Logan and Virgil both felt some level of relief.

“Did that actually work? Like, was that a fever dream or did that happen?” Virgil said as they walked out of the classroom.

“I’ve always told you: the best way to do everything is to be direct and leave no room for guessing,” Logan said simply, as if he, too wasn’t internally freaking out.

“I think Roman might disagree with you on that one, but I am too amazed to care, oh my god.”

The two walked away, to reconvene with their boyfriends and tell them about the amazingly weird conversation they just had.

****

Janus also had a problem, but his was more recent in nature. See, he happened to have a crush on not one, but four boys. Who were all in a relationship- with each other. He had known for months that it was never going to happen, trying to crush any hope of even one of them returning his affections. Them being poly like him helped his odds, but not by much. Their relationship was something he respected and accepted that being a part of it just wasn’t going to be an option. Being friends was something he was perfectly fine with too, something he genuinely enjoyed. He was okay with his situation the way it was.

But then the weirdest thing happened.

Over the past few days, the four of them seemed to be doing… something. He didn’t really know what was going on, at first. One day in Potions, Patton just started making romantically-themed puns at him while they were supposed to be working. It affected him more than he would like to admit, but it also just confused him. He didn’t bring it up any other time. Then, a few days later, when he almost forgot the incident in Potions, Roman started winking at him and blowing kisses during the quidditch match. The behavior, while very effective at flustering him, wasn’t all that uncommon. Roman was just one of those people who could be like that sometimes. It didn’t mean anything. Until, however, the match ended and his stupidly brave self stood up on his broom and recited Romeo and Juliet to him. It was confusingly romantic.

He was really truly baffled, because it seemed like the weird type of flirting those two would actually use, but he had to be the one who was wrong. That simply could not be the case, he was just reading too much into some totally normal friendship things, right?

He was bordering the line between “convincing himself” and “lying to himself” when he finally got some sense of what was going on. Virgil and Logan acted normally during their Transfiguration class the Monday after the game, until right in the middle of an engaging conversation where he lied to Virgil about what Pokemon were. Logan asked, in the most Logan-y possible way, if he was attracted to him.

Janus obviously tried to deflect, taking his real feelings and making them as dramatic as possible. He hoped they would assume he was joking. He hoped wrong. He seemed to forget that he was dealing with Logan, who takes everything literally, as Logan seemed to take it at face value. Despite the complete embarrassment of it all, it did let Janus know that, yes, they were probably trying to flirt with him. It was awkward and unpracticed, but that seemed to be what their goal was.

Still, he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t have confirmation, which he was slightly desperate to get as soon as possible.

He waited till they had a break in classes to try and find them all together. It shouldn’t have been hard, considering they were practically attached at the hip at all times. Wandering around, he ran into Remus, one of his best friends and Roman’s twin. He was dubiously trustworthy at best, but it was worth a shot.

“Remus, do you know where Roman is? I need to talk with him and his boyfriends,” Janus asked, watching Remus shake around a jar full of half-formed beetle-buttons. Remus thought for a moment, although whether or not it was actually about his question was a different matter altogether.

“Finally shooting your shot Jay-Jay?” Remus asked, wiggling his eyebrows, dyed highlighter pink, “Well I haven’t seen my dear darling brother in a long time, but I’m pretty sure he’s in the library. He hangs out with a bunch of nerds, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He decided to leave instead of furthering the conversation, lest he find out what Remus was planning on doing with those beetles. It couldn’t be anything good and he wanted at least plausible deniability.

It didn’t take him long to find them in the library, in some corner poorly guarded by bookshelves. Janus could have sworn they were in a meeting by the way they were seated, even with a pad of paper in front of Logan, who was taking a few notes. He could hear them talking, but he didn’t quite understand it.

“Okay, so maybe your method was “most effective” and “got results” but where was the flair? The panache? It’s about the drama of it all, Logan-” Roman said, heavily using air quotes. Janus tried to get just a little bit closer, but because Hogwarts was an ancient building, the floorboard he stepped on creaked loud enough to alert half the school. All four of them turned to look at him with varying degrees of embarrassment when they registered who it was.

Janus quietly entered the little nook, standing at the end of the table where they were seated. They were all staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Hello everyone, I just figured I’d pop by, see how you were doing,” he said, trying to smooth out his tone, “also to perhaps inquire if and why you all seemed to be flirting with me.”

This did not make anyone any less nervous, including and especially Patton and Virgil, who both looked on the verge of hyperventilation. Logan however still seemed to be less fazed by all of it.

“Janus, you’re here, good. Yes, we were “flirting” with you to gauge your romantic interest. I assume based on our results, you are in fact romantically interested in us?” Logan said, casual as ever. Janus didn’t expect the bluntness and as it seemed, neither did Patton, Virgil, and Roman.

He paused for a moment, practically forgetting to breathe. This wasn’t how he imagined this going, and he imagined it a lot. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for an answer and he was thoroughly tongue-tied. He swallowed his nerves and tried to speak, “Yes, I- yes. I like you all. Romantically, that is. A lot.”

The four of them seemed to calm down just a bit after hearing that, the tension clearing ever so slightly. It was then Roman’s turn to speak, getting up from the table and approaching Janus.

“This isn’t quite the spectacle I was hoping for,” Roman said, side-eyeing Logan, “but I guess if the time is right, would you go out with us?”

“Please!” added Patton, still sitting down. They all looked so unbelievably hopeful, Janus could barely believe it. He paused, not because he was hesitant but to make sure it was real. That this wouldn’t disappear if he blinked.

“Yes, of course yes. I would love to go out with all of you. Maybe, if I’m allowed, I’d even be your boyfriend,” He said, the words practically falling out of his mouth.

Virgil spoke up next, hesitantly, “Really? You would really want that?”

“Yes Virgil, really. I really want to date all of you.”

“Sounds fake but… okay.”

Patton sprung up out of his seat, rushing to hug Janus. It was a comfortable weight, one he was used to, but now the meaning was slightly different. It was… nice. Roman then joined Patton in hugging Janus, squeezing slightly tighter. Virgil walked up too, wrapping his arms around them all and relaxing his head against them. Logan was the last to join their group hug, but although stiff, his hug carried just as much care. 

They stayed like that for a minute or two, perfectly comfortable. In that moment, they were happy, and they knew they would be happy for many more moments to come, truly feeling happier together.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Bitch talk about rapharl teaching Alec how to cook a good meal for Magnus and both deciding to work together after lot of bickering because of Magnus bane love juices (u said in your last answer to ask u this so I now demand)(also coz I m Intruiged)

bitch i literally have already told u about this but also sure uwu

ok so like….. alec doesn’t get food. that’s just how it is. he grew up eating nothing but institute food and you can bet your ass there wasn’t seasoning on that shit. on like shadowhunter christmas or fucking something they put salt on the food and that was real adventurous. in shadowhunter culture, food was always seen as nothing but means to an end, Nourishment™ and nothing more. i’m surprised they even had shit like pancakes instead of just being like “for my patrol i am bringing this raw kale, yoghurt and rice smoothie. it is the best combination of nutrients for this time of day & activity” or just straight up eating like nutrient paste like those astronaut food thingies, but i suppose for that last one you would need technological development. do shadowhunters even have blenders tbh. anyway

the point is, food isn’t culturally an important thing for shadowhunters, which is all but canon considering the face magnus made at institute food (seriously, like… the trauma), and there is NO WAY alec knows how to cook. moreover, he doesn’t really get the inherent connection magnus has with culinary as a way to keep tradition alive and express one’s feelings, including love

but he does understand the basic fact that food matters for magnus. it’s funny to me because during s1, every time they talked about dates, alec suggested drinks (as he knew it was something magnus liked), but magnus always went for restaurants. the ethiopian place he knows, the place they went to in tokyo for their second date... i think drinking is more flirting for magnus, but going to a restaurant is more romance. because like not to slut all over the place yet again, but food is love

all of that to say (can u tell this is gonna be a really long answer) that alec is smart enough to eventually realize that magnus would love it if he made him some food. but does alec know where to start? no. he can’t like, tell a carrot apart from a broccoli tree and that’s just how it is. so, he goes to raphael for help, because he knows for a fact that raphael loves cooking and that magnus loves raphael’s cooking

and because alec is Like That his approach is very much like… “okay so teach me right now how to make a michelin star-worthy meal” and raphael is like… rubbing his temples, stressed out already, because goddamn 

so raphael has to sit down and explain the facts of life, i.e. that it doesn’t work like that, to him. cue dramatic speech about how cooking is an art, it’s not just about following a recipe. raphael could teach alec the steps to the most intricate dish, and it wouldn’t be worth anything if alec didn’t understand food, how it worked and how it meant. you don’t expect someone to draw the mona lisa just from knowing art theory. it takes practice, and love, and dedication, and raphael is willing to teach alec all that, but he has to understand that it will take a long time

and alec is like. what the fuck is a mownay leezah and raphael has to sigh and be like. cooking is like mastering a weapon. you have to train. and alec is like ah okay understandable 

cue cooking classes, which will 100% be written here like some “the hero is trained by their wise, old uncle on the ways of fighting” trope because like, yeah. so put on some music that matches that tone

so for the first class raphael puts some soup in front of alec and alec is like. hmmm. and raphael is like “take some and tell me how it tastes” and alec of course goes all “soup……” and raphael raises his eyebrows at him and he’s like “vegetable soup……” and raphael makes go on gestures as patiently as he can and alec is like “i think there’s……….. potato” 

so speech number 1: to be able to cook, you need to know how to eat. cooking is something that you do with all your senses. you need to be able to taste, and tell what’s missing, or if there’s too much of something, and if the texture is right, etc. you need to know what you’re looking for, you need to understand how to improvise, you need to pay attention and be in tune with it. you have to understand the ingredients. and alec is just like, nodding along and doing his best, because look. he might be a himbo with no previous experience on this and he might have no idea what raphael is talking about, but he does want to get this right, and understand this part of magnus better, too. only reason he’s not taking notes is because raphael looked at his notepad like he was going to die

alec takes to describing and understanding textures pretty well (hypersensitivity, babey!), but struggles a lot more with tastes because he doesn’t really have the apparel to describe it accurately due to lack of experience with that. which quickly makes raphael kinda.. sad. he went years without eating (he WILL find a way to be able to eat AND be still a vampire if it’s the LAST THING I DO IN THIS STUPID LIFE) but he can still tell what everything tastes like from memory. it’s not that alec can’t tell, he just… doesn’t know what to do with them because he was raised in a culture that literally didn’t care (and possibly forced him to eat Bad Texture foods and shit like that because it’s not like he has the space to complain about that, does he? and as a fellow autistic raphael can sympathize with that very, very well) 

so slowly but surely alec starts to pick up on tastes and describing and telling them apart and recognizing them when together, you know, shit like this. and sometimes he can recognize something from places magnus has taken him to before and he’s like oh, ginger! that’s what it was! magnus likes this, and his eyes are so full of love raphael has no choice but to huff like a kid because he can’t be caught thinking that it’s cute that alec loves his dad so much

(but it earns him many points in raphael’s book)

once alec graduates in Eating, they go to speech number 2: Why You Have To Vibe With The Ingredients. maia is there for that one because i said so, and anyway they need to get to taki’s to have this particular class because they grow at least some ingredients there okay let me have this (one of the things that made maia’s heart melt for raphael the most was seeing the way he was so careful and loving with the plants, like….. especially if they’ve started working together before raphael could eat food, he would just treat them with so much care and longing and put his all into making sure they grew healthy and well and it was just… heartwarming and heart wrenching in equal measures). but anyway she mostly takes to sitting on the counter, watching this unfold, and being very amused

so raphael shows alec, who promptly almost steps on a really small basil tree, leading raphael to scream NO!!! like he is dying and making maia almost double over with laughter, what they have. obviously they can’t grow enough shit to run a whole ass restaurant but they have almost all kinds of herbs and a few quick-to-grow, easy-to-take-care-of ingredients like tomatoes and squash. bonus for these ones: their fruits are also very visible! so raphael gets to show alec how they grow, what the texture is like, how much they weight, etc. obviously he doesn’t expect alec to grow his own ingredients or anything, but it is important to pick the right ones, otherwise no matter what you do, your food will suck. and seeing some examples of them growing might help you understand why and how that works

so raphael goes around to teaching him how to select the best ingredients according to type of vegetable, then meat, chicken, etc. and like not to slut over raphael but for just a second can i say that he’s just… such a patient fucking teacher, even when alec makes him want to die on the spot, and he is clearly so passionate about the subject, like he talks about it with such conviction and care and wants to make sure that alec understands exactly how it works beyond just decorating what is the correct texture for what and maia is just making heart eyes at him the whole time. she came here to be amused but seeing her boyfriend like that really makes her melt. ugh i love them

also every once in a while alec will say something Painfully Shadowhunter-y and raphael will just stare right at maia with the deadest-looking eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and she almost spits into her own coffee at least once. sometimes she pats his shoulders all like “hang in there, bud”. but also like, he can’t fool her and she knows that he’s proud whenever alec gets it right, and he’s happy that he gets to do this for magnus, even if kind of second handedly. he knows that it will make magnus immensely happy if alec manages to make him a good meal, and like, he deserves it. plus, raphael just loves food and being able to share what he knows about it is always a joy. not that he won’t complain the whole time. but you know

okay so for next time, alec actually gets to cook for real! some good ole’ s o u p. and alec’s like “hmm. i mean i wanted to make something nice for magnus, you know?” and cue speech number 3: if you aren’t able to make a really good soup, you won’t be able to make anything else. it doesn’t matter how simple the dish is, what matters is to do it right, to make it with love, and to make it taste like home. soup is not just soup, it’s warmth, it’s love, it’s caring, it’s peace. i want you to prove to me that you can pour your whole heart into whatever you make magnus. there are no better or worse dishes, there are dishes more suited to one’s taste, or to an occasion. if magnus is upset, some nice, hot soup is going to soothe him way better than the most delicate pastry. so make me some soup, lover boy, and prove to me that no matter what it is, you can put your love for magnus and take care of him all the same

and alec is not one to back down from a challenge, so he sets his jaw and proceeds to cook like he is heading to battle, or in an episode of hannibal, or some shit. and inevitably he overthinks every single detail and it turns out weird and suboptimal, and raphael is like “i can taste your nervousness in this” and alec is like “nervousness is not a taste” and raphael is like “and yet”

speech number 4: you don’t have to think about it, you have to feel. if you’re thinking too much, you’re stuck in your own head, you’re not paying attention. food isn’t made with the mind, it is made with the senses. pay attention to the textures, tastes, sounds, colors. don’t be out there trying to think of what the most accurate combinations are, or something. just pay attention to what you’re doing

and alec’s like. “i’m too autistic for this humbo jumbo i don’t know how to cook through following my heart” and raphael, ready to smack him with a newspaper, is like “it’s not about following your heart, it’s about following your body, paying attention to what you feel. you are more likely to notice texture differences, tastes, sounds, brightness. use that” and alec’s like alright

anyway so alec makes some and it’s like, alright, not fantastic, but good. then for the third one raphael just goes “ok just think about magnus” and alec is like *vibrating* man i sure do love magnus and he’s practically secreting heart emojis through his pores and raphael is like uggghhhgghhhghghhghhhhhh g r o s s, texting maia about his woes and pain lmao. anyway you guessed it the soup turns out great cuz i’m a corny bitch. raphael is like maia. maia. the soup was so good. just because he was thinking about magnus. he’s actually worthy of my dad. uggghhhhh put a stake through my hEART and maia is just like. pat pat

okay so then they go to more technical shit like chopping techniques and temperatures and stuff like that you know the usual shit. and raphael teaches him some more recipes until he eventually decides that alec is good enough to learn something fancier to woo magnus with - idk what that would be tbh so like insert something here. and okay alec graduates cooking class woohooo

and then a few days later magnus goes visit raphael and he’s all like “so… alec cooked for me the other day” and raphael pauses and softens incredibly and is all like “did he now?” and magnus nods, clearly so happy it’s unbelievable, possibly a little in awe because he wasn’t expecting the sudden display, not when he knew that alec wasn’t exactly interested in culinary, much less for it to be so good. like obviously alec had put thought and work into this and it’s just… really nice. and he felt just so cherished and loved and i just aaaaaaaa

obviously he tries to keep the lovey-dovey shit to a minimum, if anything because raphael already teases him enough (he’s still not over “because you’re totally unbiased”), but it’s just so obvious that he’s happy and he can barely hide a smile behind his tea and whatever raphael made for him (pan dulce maybe?) and he looks almost giddy, and that’s enough for raphael to feel accomplished. and he asks what alec made for him and magnus goes “soto ayam” and raphael’s eyes widen in shock and he smiles to himself like “the bastard”, because in the end alec made magnus soup, soup from magnus’ culture, because he understood perfectly exactly what raphael meant with food being love and care, and i just aaaaaaaaaaa

and don’t get me wrong he’ll make magnus fancy dinners too eventually, with roses and wine and the whole shebang, but he specifically chose soto ayam to be the first because he just loves magnus and wanted that to show through his food before anything else and i just doadsiahdaih im a soft bitch the end

[ohemgeeitscoley]

The one I have been waiting for (Part Two of Two)

Ben Solo is the recently assigned editor for Rey Johnson’s book about star-crossed lovers in space when the world is turned upside down and stay home orders are issued. Ben and Rey begin working together over Zoom and their relationship grows.

Or, an and they were zoomates fic.

Based on this Tumblr post.

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Chapter One

Note: And here’s the rest! I hope you guys enjoy this. I had a ton of fun writing it and playing with these characters and this situation.

@andyouweremine​ is 100% to blame for the last Zoom scene, which was not a part of the plan and she talked me into it after I told her the story was done. You know. Like the best kind of friend.

Read below or on AO3.

Rey Johnson: Hi Ben, I was wondering if you are busy?

Rey Johnson: This has nothing to do with the book or my writing. I've actually written a ton. Talking to you really helped yesterday.

Rey Johnson: I was going to try to come up with some excuse to start talking to you. But honestly I'm just lonely. All of my friends have someone else that they are quarantined with so I feel like I might be bothering them at this point. And I really hate to be that person, but I just was hoping we could talk about something?

Rey Johnson: oh god okay you haven't said anything and I'm really sorry if this was inappropriate please let's pretend this conversation never happened.

Ben: I'd love to just talk.

Ben: You waited less than a minute before trying to revoke that offer, by the way.

Ben: I think it takes my brain longer than that to even think of a response let alone type one.

Rey Johnson: You seem to be doing just fine now 😜

Rey Johnson: And thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed human contact before all of this.

Ben: I understand. 

Rey Johnson: So, I'm ordering groceries to be delivered and they have a limit on cup of noodles now? And does it make me a bad person if I order the maximum quantity at different stores?

Rey Johnson: That sounds bad. I'm not a bad person I swear. I just, I really never learned to cook growing up and it hasn't been a priority in my adult life.

Rey Johnson: Don't hate me. I swear I'm not the kind of person who would buy more than I need in a pandemic.

Ben: I don't think that makes you a bad person. I am, however, very concerned that ramen is the primary component to your daily nutrition. 

Rey Johnson: I'm not a total animal. I mix in veggies and occasionally I'll even add in real meat. 

Ben: I could send you recipes? Easy ones. My mom is demanding my family attend these weekly virtual dinner parties. 

Ben: And one of her requirements is that we all make the same meal. So, she's been bombarding my uncles and me with easy recipes. 

Ben: Plus this way if you need help, I can help you. 

Rey Johnson: I would love that. Send them over. 

Rey Johnson: Thanks Ben. 

----

Ben hadn’t expected Rey’s accent. If he was being entirely honest with himself, Ben hadn’t expected Rey to be anything like she was.

Her laugh was light and had to be earned, which he appreciated. Her hazel eyes seemed to brighten when she was arguing with him about Kira and Kylo’s connection and, especially, when she bit down on her lip to stop herself from interrupting him. He wondered how much of her personality was lost to a screen and what it would be like to see her in person.

She was beautiful.

Not that he should necessarily be having these kinds of thoughts about her.  He had read through the entire HR policy handbook the night after their first video call and it wasn’t explicitly forbidden for writers and editors to see each other. The policy just required full disclosure at the start of a relationship.

He also recognized that two video calls and a few messages was hardly enough to warrant such research. There was a more than very real chance that Rey would want absolutely nothing to do with him socially. She wouldn’t be the first.

He glanced down at his phone, and the messages from Rey, and smiled. 

But he hoped that maybe she would.

Ben went to his computer, pulling up his work email and searching for the messages between Leia, Luke and Chewie. He was only able to find the first thread, which only had one recipe that was decidedly not an easy one to follow. What had followed Leia’s first message was around thirty replies between the three of them about how Leia couldn’t expect either Luke or Chewie to know how to cook beef wellington on a few days’ notice.

To be fair, Ben was a fairly decent cook, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could pull off beef wellington.

He had been so sure though that his mom had said she was going to send other recipes for them to choose from. He can almost clearly see something about how she’d send over a recipe for mac and cheese if they’d just calm down about it.

But looking through his email now, he can’t actually find any of those recipes.

---

Ben: Hey mom. I was planning on making my grocery delivery order soon and I can’t find any of the recipes you sent over? 

Mom: Your uncles haven’t picked a final recipe yet. I believe they are currently still lobbying that we all just buy the same Hamburger Helper meal kit and call it a day. I have sent dozens of recipes to choose from and this is what they are stuck on.

Mom: I think even Luke can manage to make tacos.

Ben: What recipes? I can only find the beef wellington recipe.

Ben: Which, really?

Mom: What else are they doing while staying at home? They both have plenty of time to learn to cook one recipe.

Ben: Luke works from home outside of the stay home order. So, I would imagine he has just as much time as before.

Mom: Are you really defending your uncle to me right now Benjamin?

Ben: So, where are those other recipes? I can’t find them.

Mom: I removed you from the email chain. I know you get sick of hearing us all bicker. I figured I’d just send you the final recipe once we get a consensus. 

Ben: Oh. Could you send them to me anyways?

Mom: They are basic recipes Ben. For things like tacos and spaghetti. You could write better recipes than what I am sending out.

Ben: Still. I should have them.

Mom: Why?

Ben: Why can’t you just send them to me?

Mom: If you are looking for easy recipes Ben, you know how to perform an internet search. I’ve seen you do it.

Ben: You are being impossible.

Mom: I’ll send them. 

Ben: Thank you.

Mom: If you tell me why you want them.

Ben: This is ridiculous. I’ll just “perform an internet search.” Thanks Mom.

Mom: Oh come on Ben. Something is up. You wouldn’t be acting so weird if there wasn’t a reason you want these recipes.

Ben: Fine.

Ben: I’ve been talking to Rey Johnson.

Mom: Oh really? How is her book coming along?

Ben: Great. Really great actually.

Mom: Does she need recipe ideas for her book?

Ben: What? No. 

Ben: We’ve been talking about non work related things and she mentioned not knowing how to cook.

Ben: So, I figured I’d send over some of the easier recipes I assumed you’d been sending Luke and Chewie.

Mom: You’ve been talking about non work related things?

Ben: Yes. Is that okay?

Mom: That’s more than okay.

Mom:  I could just send the recipes directly to her if you’d like.

Ben: I can send them to her.

Mom: It’s just as easy for me to do it Ben.

Ben: Mom.

Mom: Should I reach out to Amilyn for HR purposes?

Ben: You are impossible.

----

Ben: Dad. Can you please have mom forward me the recipes she’s been sending to Luke and Chewie. 

Ben: Without asking any questions.

Ben: I really would appreciate it.

Dad: Sure thing, kid.

----

“Hey, what’s up?” Ben asked as he answered the incoming video call on his cell phone from Rey.

He took in his messy hair, and the plain black t-shirt he was wearing, and realized that maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to answer. 

She looked amazing.

Her hair was up in three separate buns. The tank top that she was wearing was thin and he could see the outline of her black bra underneath the thin fabric. 

The image on his phone quickly shifted as she changed the camera view so that he was staring at a box of groceries on her doorstep.

Oh. 

“Ben. What is all of this?” Rey asked and he isn’t sure if she is amused or annoyed and he really wished that he could see her. 

“The ingredients to the recipes I’m about to send you.” Ben responded with a small shrug. “I wasn’t able to get them to you before you placed your grocery order. And I really couldn’t stomach you only eating ramen for the next week.”

“Ben,” Rey sighed, and suddenly she was back on his screen shaking her head. “You could have just sent the recipes and I could have made another order.”

“Sure,” Ben grinned. “Or I could have done just what I did.”

“At least let me pay you back.”

“No need,” Ben waved his hand in front of the screen. “Honestly, Rey.”

“I don’t even know what to do with half of these,” Rey admitted, holding up a bell pepper. “Am I going to blind myself if I accidently rub my eyes while cutting one of these?”

Ben laughed, running his hand through his hair while he shook his head. “Maybe let’s just start by putting everything away and deciding what we are making tonight.”

“We?” Rey asked, a small smile spreading on her face.

“If you want?” Ben offered, tapping a finger against his counter. “I figured we could make dinner together. I’m pretty sure I can walk you through all of these recipes.”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

----

Ben: Is it okay if I text you about book things? Or would you prefer an email or a scheduled video call?

Rey Johnson: A scheduled video call? Ben. We literally stopped talking an hour ago.

Ben: I just want to make sure you are okay with it.

Rey Johnson: It’s fine. 

Rey Johnson: What’s up?

Ben: I read through what you sent this morning. And I wanted to point out that I noticed.

Rey Johnson: Noticed what?

Ben: That you haven’t finished the scene about whether or not Kira takes Kylo’s hand and are writing ambiguous future scenes that could work either way.

Rey Johnson: No idea what you are talking about. 😇

Ben: Sure you don’t.

Rey Johnson: New number. Who is this?

----

Rey stretched her legs down toward the end of her bed, switching the arm that is holding her phone up so she can stretch her arm out as well. She rolled to her side, setting her phone down on her nightstand, leaned up against the lamp.

“We already watched three episodes of Witcher today Ben,” Rey pointed out, stifling a yawn. “It’s my turn for show choices.”

“You don’t look like you’re going to be up much longer,” Ben pointed out.

“I’m fine,” Rey mumbled, fighting against the heaviness of her eyes. “You’re just saying that so you can get out of watching the next episode of Legacies.”

It had been the same conversation between the two of them, more or less, for the last few weeks. Rey mostly wrote in the mornings and she and Ben had a few early afternoon meetings a week on what she was working on and the progress she had made.

They argue about whether or not Kira is going to take Kylo's hand.

Outside of those meetings though, most of their conversations never returned to work. Which was something since they spent most of their days talking to one another.

In the evenings they made dinner together and talked about what they were going to do once the world finally opened back up. Ben was keeping a list of their ideas. Rey liked imagining that they would go through the list together. 

Neither of them ever brought it up, but Rey hoped that Ben imagined it too.

Ben caved on the binge watching two weeks after the stay home order was in place. Initially Rey had joked that he should try Tiger King or Too Hot to Handle. They downloaded the programs to sync their computers and watched the first episode of Too Hot to Handle together. Watching Ben’s face through the first ten minutes was worth all of her own feelings of embarrassment.

Ben’s ears did turn pink when he blushed. Something that Rey really wanted to see in person.

She was thankful for Ben. Without him she knew that her quarantine quality of life would have been severely diminished, but she wanted to actually see him.

“Hey Ben,” Rey started, squirming around in her bed until she was under her blanket. “When the stay home order finally gets lifted, I would… I really want to see you.”

“Of course,” Ben answered, and Rey grinned at how quickly he responded. “We have a list of things we are going to do.”

“Together.” Rey confirmed, closing her eyes. “A list of things to go do together.”

Ben telling her good night is the last thing Rey hears before falling asleep.

----

Dad: Your mom wants you to invite Rey to virtual dinner on Saturday.

Dad: I get the idea that she isn’t going to take no as an answer. 

Ben: Can you distract her long enough for me to change my phone number?

Dad: Just invite her, Ben. 

Ben: Okay. Fine.

----

Mom: I’d love for you to invite Rey to dinner on Saturday. Your uncles would like to meet her. 

Ben: Why would they want to meet her Mom? I haven’t talked about her with them.

Mom: I’ve talked to them.

Ben: Mom.

Mom: Your uncles decided on lasagna. I’ll send you the recipe.

Ben: I’ll ask her, but I’m not sure that she’ll want to attend.

Mom: I’m sure you can convince her. 😉

Ben: I’m never talking to you again.

----

"You got big plans this weekend?" Rey asked, teasing him. "Should I be jealous you have other people to hang out with. I thought you loved watching Legacies with me."

"I love spending time with you," Ben corrected, a slight blush coating his cheeks. "I could give or take Legacies." 

Rey laughed, her face wrinkling and her mouth open wide.

Ben smiled in return without thought. It was strange to him, how easy it was to smile when he talked with her.

"Actually," Ben started, reaching a hand up to scratch at his neck. "My mom invited you to Saturday dinner."

"Oh," Rey said, looking away from the screen. "Really?"

"Yes," Ben confirmed. "I would say no pressure, but my mom doesn't really take no for an answer."

Rey gave him a small, tight smile. "I would be honored to attend."

Ben sighed in relief. "We are making lasagna. I'll send you the recipe."

"I can't wait," Rey said. "Hopefully I won't do anything to embarrass you."

"Nothing," Ben promised, "Nothing you could do would be embarrassing."

"My family," he continued, shaking his head. "I apologize now. I would understand if you never talked to me again."

"Never," Rey responded immediately. "You're the only thing keeping me sane."

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?" Rey asked, her eyes slightly widening. “Here I was thinking you are just being nice.”

“I’m not nice,” Ben offered, shrugging his shoulders. “You can ask just about anyone that knows me. It’s not what I am known for.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

Ben doesn’t know what to say in response, glancing away from his phone. “So I’ll call you at two on Saturday? The dinner starts at six.”

“It’s a date,” Rey blushed, but smiled at him. “I can’t wait.”

----

New Group Chat Created

Ben: I talked with Rey and she will be there this Saturday.

Ben: Please, please, please, do not do or say anything that would embarrass me.

Ben: This means no baby pictures, mom.

Chewie: I’m hurt that you would think so little of me.

Uncle Luke: Honestly Ben. How little do you think of us?

Ben: Do you really want me to answer that?

Dad: No. 

Mom: But Benjamin, you were such a cute baby with those ears and your hair. 

Ben: Mom.

Dad: Leia.

Dad: Let the kid be.

Uncle Luke: There is that cute picture of him naked and playing in the sprinkler that I always thought was going to be a future hit.

Ben: I’m univitating her.

----

Rey threw another shirt onto the growing pile on her bed. She huffed, closing her eyes as she tried to imagine the perfect outfit to wear when attending a video dinner with her crushes entire family.

Her crush.

God, she felt like she was fifteen. 

Crush wasn’t even the right word to describe what she felt toward Ben. She wasn’t sure what the right word would be. 

She wished she knew where they stood. Logically, she knew that it was a conversation that they should have, one that was needed at this point. But she didn’t want to ruin whatever they had by trying to figure out what was going on with them.

He was there for her. Every day. Without fail. He called her. He texted her. He sent her stupid quarantine memes and videos to make her laugh.

He kept a list of post quarantine activities for them.

She was almost positive that he was on the same page as her. That they were heading toward… something.

She hoped there were at least.

She pulled up Poe’s contact information, hitting the video call button.

“Hey Rey,” Poe responded, a bright grin on his face. “Also, wow, you are naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Rey rolled her eyes. “I’m in my bra.”

“Practically naked,” Poe amended. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t laugh,” Rey began, “But Ben? My editor? I’m going to be attending a… virtual dinner with his parents and uncles.”

“Ben, your editor?” Poe mocked, laughing. “Rey, you can just say your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You guys make dinner and are binge watching two different shows,” Poe pointed out. “You are in a relationship.”

“We aren’t… we haven’t, we haven’t talked about anything like that.”

“Okay,” Poe conceded, holding his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll leave it for now. What’s the problem?”

“I have no idea what to wear,” Rey admitted, switching the camera mode to show him the pile of clothes tossed on her bed. 

“Oh, wow.” Poe shook his head. “Babe. You just need to stop overthinking this.”

“I just want to make a good impression.” Rey bit down on her bottom lip. “I want to look nice, but not too nice for a virtual dinner.”

“I truly think sweatpants and a t-shirt would be appropriate for a virtual dinner.”

“You once told me that sweatpants were the first sign of a girl giving in to being alone forever.”

“Yeah, well, that was before quarantine.”

“Poe,” Rey exaggerated his name, holding onto the vowels for seconds. “Please just help me.”

“Jeans. And what about that yellow top you wore last time you went out with me and Finn?”

Rey nodded, walking over to her closet to pull out the yellow, flowy tank top she wore that night. “This one?”

“That one,” Poe confirmed. “It’s perfect. I think it captures your personality.”

“That’s ridiculous, but okay. Thank you.”

“I expect to be your maid of honor in your future wedding for this.”

“Poe!” Rey shook her head in amusement. 

“Love you! Bye!”

----

“Hi,” Ben said. “You changed.”

“So did you,” Rey noted, nodding at the screen.

Ben looked down at the button down shirt he had changed into. “You look nice.”

Rey smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“My family can be,” Ben paused, trying to think of the right words. “A bit much.”

“Ben,” Rey shook her head. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Just promise me if my mom actually starts trying to show you baby pictures of me that you’ll look away.”

“I can make no such promise,” Rey laughed. “I’m sure you were a cute baby though.”

“I really wasn’t,” Ben sighed. “I am still waiting to grow into my ears.”

“I like your ears.”

Ben glanced down, happy that his hair was currently covering his ears. “I was just thinking that if you wanted a code word, you know, to end the call, now is the time to come up with one.”

“Ben,” Rey laughed his name. “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to love everyone. I’m more worried that they are going to hate me.”

“That’s just… that’s not possible.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I think you might be a little biased at this point.”

“Maybe,” Ben admitted. “But I also know my family. Trust me. It isn’t possible.”

-----

Ben watched as Rey started laughing again, her smile wide and open as she tilted her head back. He could hear Luke and Han chuckling in the background, but he had pinned Rey’s frame as soon as they had merged into the dinner video call.

He had been right, of course, his family loved Rey. It probably should scare Ben at how easily Rey fit in with them. Easily picking up on their different personalities and slightly shifting and overplaying aspects of her personality to win them over.

He wished that she believed that she didn't need to change anything for them to love her. But it made him happy watching her try so hard to impress them. A part of him was still in denial and was convinced that Rey was putting in that kind of effort for reasons that didn't involve him at all.

But a bigger part of him knew that Rey wanted to fit in with them because she wanted to be with him. They hadn't talked about it, but Ben hoped that she knew that he wanted to be with her. 

He needed the stay home order lifted so that he could take her to one of the many locations on their post-quarantine adventure list. Once he was allowed to leave his apartment for non-emergent reasons nothing was going to keep him away from her.

He had already found himself halfway out the door ready to go over to her apartment numerous times over the last few weeks. If the order wasn't lifted soon, he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.

He wanted to actually hold her while they watched Legacies. He wanted to be able to reach out and take her hand and show her the correct way to cut bell peppers. 

He wanted to discover and know all of the little things that she did that were lost over a computer screen.

"Ben?" Leia asked, snapping her fingers in front of the screen. "Maybe you can stop thinking about Rey long enough to join the conversation again?"

"What?" Ben sputtered, hoping that his face wasn't as red as it felt. But judging from the way his mom was laughing and Chewie was grinning at him, he was positive that it was. "Did you say something? I had a… work email that distracted me."

“A work email?” Leia asked, fake innocence dripping from her voice, “Is it important? Should I hop on and read it as well?”

“I was just saying,” Han started, placing his hand on Leia’s shoulder. “That this has been nice and that we hope Rey can make it to one of our weekly dinners once we are allowed to meet in person again.”

“Maybe even two,” Chewie added.

“Or three,” Luke finished.

“The lasagna was great, Leia,” Rey said, pulling Ben’s attention back to the screen. “And honestly so easy to make. I think I could have pulled this one off without Ben’s help.”

“Oh really?” Ben asked, raising his eyebrows. “Those are brave words coming from the girl who once asked if she was going to go blind while cutting bell peppers.”

Rey stuck her tongue out at him. “That was weeks ago. How many meals have we made since then? I’m practically a chef at this point. Maybe I’ll quit writing and open up a restaurant once quarantine ends.”

Ben snorted. “Literally anything to avoid writing a certain scene.”

“That’s not--”

“How is the book coming?” Leia interrupted, an amused grin on her face.

Actually, Ben noted, every single one of his family members had an amused smile on their face.

“Really well,’ Rey responded. “Ben has been a great editor. Even if we disagree on a pivotal scene.”

“She just doesn’t like to admit that I am right.”

“I have no problem admitting that you are right, when you are actually right,” Rey teased, taking a sip from her wine glass. “You still haven’t convinced me.”

"Maybe we should go over the list of reasons that I've given you already again tonight," Ben suggested. "I know you had your heart set on finishing up Legacies tonight, but this might be more important."

"Nothing is more important than finishing Legacies," Rey argued. "Besides you promised we would finish Legacies since we finished Witcher first. You going back on your promises now Ben?"

"Oh, Ben never breaks his promises," Leia said, and Ben glanced down at the bottom of his screen. He had forgotten for a minute that he was blatantly flirting with Rey in front of his parents and uncles. The knowing look on Leia and Han's face was insufferable, and somehow worse than the amused expressions on Luke and Chewie's face.

Ben really wasn't looking forward to reading whatever messages were waiting for him in the group chat he created between all of them. He had pushed his phone as far away from him as possible when Luke and Chewie wouldn't stop going on about how nice it was to finally meet Ben's girlfriend and how pretty she really was. 

At this point, Ben might only ever willingly talk to his dad ever again. He at least tried to get everyone to leave him alone.

He had never regretted creating a group more. 

"Where are you at in Legacies?" Luke asked. "I haven't started it yet, but if I have to stay home much longer, I might start. A lot of my students have been talking about it."

Ben smiled as he watched the animated way Rey responded to his uncle while they discussed the show. 

He wanted to see her. Stay home order be damned, he was going to see her.

----

Chewie: Rey is absolutely wonderful Ben. 

Uncle Luke: You should ask her out soon, a girl like that won't be single for long.

Dad: Luke.

Uncle Luke: What? 🤷🏼‍♂️ Someone needs to be honest with him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben look that awestruck at a person before.

Dad: Did Leia ask you to take over harping at him so Ben would stop ignoring her calls?

Uncle Luke: I’m certain I have no idea what you are talking about.

Mom: I would never do anything like that. 

Dad: Leia.

Mom: But I would appreciate it if my son would pick up the phone every now and then. 

Ben: I’m blocking everyone but Dad.

---

Ben: I have a crazy idea. And you can absolutely, definitely say no if it makes you uncomfortable in any way.

Ben: Also, I am now realizing how sexual that sounded and I am regretting this already.

Ben: I should have thought my words through more there.

Ben: We can just ignore this entirely.

Rey Johnson: Ben. Stop.

Rey Johnson: Maybe I wouldn’t turn down a crazy sexual idea.

Rey Johnson: You’ll have no idea if you keep shooting yourself down before I can even respond.

Ben: Okay.

Rey Johnson: So, what’s this crazy idea? And just how sexual is it?

Ben: It’s not.

Ben: Sexual.

Ben: It might be crazy.

Ben: I really wish I could take back this conversation.

Rey Johnson: I really wish we could be having this conversation face to face.

Ben: … that’s my idea.

Ben: I haven’t left my house in well over fourteen days. I don’t think you have either? 

Ben: And I have a car. So if I wear a mask, and go straight to my car, and straight to your apartment. I mean. The risk is low, right?

Ben: I could also bring clothes, and I could just take a shower when I get there, to lower the risk even more?

Rey Johnson: I thought you said this wasn’t sexual?

Ben: I didn’t mean it like that. 

Ben: I meant a very perfunctory decontamination shower.

Rey Johnson: I’m teasing you Ben. 

Rey Johnson: Come over. 

Rey Johnson: We’ll talk about the perfunctoriness of your future shower in person.

Rey Johnson: [address sent]

---

Kneeling down on the floor, Rey placed another book on her bookshelf, adjusting the snow globe on the edge of the shelf again. She had been keeping herself busy with cleaning since she had sent Ben her address, just waiting for him to arrive. The fact that Ben had proposed it as an idea made her heart swell. She had almost asked him a dozen times over the last few weeks, but each time she managed to talk herself out of it at the last minute.

She was nervous. Rey blamed the wine for how bold she had been in the messages she had sent to him. Now that she was waiting though, with nothing but her own thoughts, Rey was worried that it was too much, too soon. While Rey was fairly confident that Ben asking to come over was a good sign, a sign that she wasn't alone in her attraction, it was hard for her to focus on that and not on the constant intruding thoughts that she was going to be left alone again. 

Ben had been the best part of her days and nights for weeks, and she was scared that he might be disappointed when he saw her. Or that he might decide that her appeal wasn't the same in person. Rey didn't want to lose him.

Not for the first time since the stay home order had been in place, Rey wished she could schedule a therapy appointment with her counselor. A childhood of being left behind and unwanted had left many scars and shadows in her brain. 

Ben had been nothing but kind to her. He flirted with her, he laughed with her, he spent hours on video calls with her walking her through how to make meals that Rey was pretty convinced idiots could handle making without any help. He was patient and good. 

A part of her knew that meeting him in person wasn't going to change anything for the worse, she just needed to remind herself that she deserved good things and good people.

And Ben Solo was a good person. Even if he argued with her over that fact with stories and worries about who he was at his last job, some awful publishing company that took advantage of writers with shady contracts.  

Mistakes didn't define a person's entire character though. And Rey knew all the work he had done to try to make the situation right. He was the reason for the multimillion dollar lawsuit against the company and he was still meeting with lawyers remotely to help bolster the plaintiffs' cases.

A knock on the door pulled her attention from her thoughts. Standing up, Rey brushed her hands down the colorful leggings and pulled down on the large, baggy black tank top she had changed into after dinner. Briefly, Rey considered running back into her bedroom and finding something more appealing to throw on, but then Ben knocked on the door again and Rey remembered that this is the same guy who told her she looked beautiful after she fell asleep during a call and woke up with drool dried to the side of her mouth.

"Hi," Rey greeted him, as she pulled open her front door. 

He was tall and broad, which Rey already knew, but seeing him in person put it in a different perspective. Rey fought against her first instinct to step into the hallway to hug him, her fingers tightening on the door knob still in her hand. 

"Hi," Ben responded and his voice was so much deeper in person. Rey couldn't see his smile because of the black mask that covered half of his face, but she knew that he was smiling with the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. "Can I come in?"

Without a word Rey stepped back to let him in. "You're really here," she said after Ben shut the door. She couldn't stop smiling at him. He held up the duffel bag in his hand as a question.  

Rey laughed, taking the bag from him and setting it down behind the couch. "I thought you were kidding about the decontamination shower."

"The perfunctory decontamination shower," Ben corrected, reaching up to take off his mask. He was smiling as he sat the mask down on the table.  

And oh, Rey had thought he was gorgeous on her computer screen, but seeing him smile in person, nothing was going to beat that. Her computer screen would never be enough again.

"I figured I'd bring clothes just in case," Ben continued, removing his leather gloves. "Whatever it takes for you to be comfortable with me being here. If you want to me to shower, I can do that. Change my clothes? I can definitely do that. If you've got a bottle of Lysol and you'd like to spray me--"

"Ben," Rey interrupted, taking a step closer to him.  "I think I'd really like it if you'd just kiss me already."

Ben stopped talking and looked at her. Rey shifted her weight under his stare, waiting for him to say or do anything. The longer he was silent the more embarrassed she grew. 

She was about to apologize when Ben finally moved toward her and kissed her. The kiss was chaste and slow at first, Ben still closing the distance between their bodies. He placed his hands on her waist, which were warm and large as they slid down her sides.

Rey opened her mouth, deepening the kiss as she pressed herself up to wrap her arms around his neck. She ran her hands through his dark, wavy hair, enjoying the softness of the strands as they fell through her fingers. Ben hummed his appreciation against her lips.

Ben pulled away first, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. "Hi," he breathed, a wide smile on his face.

"Hi," Rey grinned back at him. "I'm really glad you came."

"Me too," Ben agreed, placing a kiss on her nose and then her forehead before he stood up straight and pulled her into his chest. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Me either," Rey said, taking a deep breath in an attempt to commit the smell of Ben to her memory. Placing a kiss against his chest, Rey lowered her arms from Ben's neck and wrapped them around his waist. "You smell nice. No shower needed."

"I'm glad," Ben laughed, his chest rumbling under her ear. Rey loved the way it sounded. "I guess I didn't need the extra set of clothes."

Ben moved his hands off of Rey to pull off his glove. He tossed it on to the table, before running his hands down her back.

"I suppose that depends on what the plan is." Rey said, her voice light and airy. "I could think of a few options where having extra clothes might be beneficial."

"Oh?" Ben questioned. "Want to share these plans?"

"Well, obviously we have some episodes of Legacies to watch."

"Obviously," Ben snorted, shaking his head. "I do have this theory that I'll enjoy the show much more when I'm holding you and can pay more attention to you than the show."

Rey blushed. "Maybe if you paid more attention to the show instead of thinking up these theories you'd be enjoying it more."

"I don't know. I quite enjoy thinking up those theories," Ben pressed a kiss into her hair. "And after Legacies?"

"Dessert. Maybe a game."

"And then?"

"And then in the morning," Rey said, pulling back from Ben slightly until she could glance up at him, tapping her fingers against his spine to try to dispel some of the nerves building up in her stomach. "In the morning, I was thinking maybe you could teach me how to make waffles."

"Waffles? What about pancakes?" Ben teased, brushing a piece of hair behind Rey's ear.

"Sure," Rey shrugged. "Or pancakes. If you stay, I won't be picky. I just, I want you to stay."

"I'll stay."

-----

“Ben,” Rey giggled as Ben moved his lips down her neck. “Ben. It’s 6:00.”

“I know.”

“It’s time for dinner with your family.”

“I know,” Ben repeated, placing a kiss on her shoulder. 

“You are distracting me,” Rey complained. “Nothing is ready.”

“The food is ready,” Ben mummered, pointing at the enchiladas that were cooling on her counter. “I’m dressed. You’re dressed. What more needs to be done?”

Rey spun around, pressing her back against the counter. “Ben. It’s 6:00. And you’re still here.”

Ben’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the problem. “I have my laptop. We can just set me up in a different room.”

“You don’t think they are going to notice that the apartment you are in isn’t your apartment?”

Ben was silent, thinking through their problem. “I’ll use one of those zoom backgrounds.”

“You hate them.”

“Yes.” Ben nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“We can just tell them.”

“We could,” Ben conceded. “But then the entire dinner is going to be us listening to my family ask extremely embarrassing and personal questions and I just… I don’t--”

 Rey interrupted him with a kiss, smiling against his lips when she pulled away. 

“Go get set up in my room. I’ll bring the food in,” Rey walked over to the deep fryer, blowing on a still-too-hot tortilla chip before popping it in her mouth. 

Ben had insisted on making homemade tortilla chips. Which really didn’t surprise her.

“We could also skip dinner,” Ben offered, following behind her. He lowered his head down to place a kiss just below her ear, before whispering, “We could have sex instead.”

“Ben,” Rey whined, setting her hands on top of his. 

“Really, really good sex.”

“Go pick a background babe,” Rey said, shaking her head in amusement. She opened the cabinet above her, pulling down two plates. “We’re all ready.”

“Fine,” Ben grumbled. Rey turned her head to give him one last kiss before he walked away to her room.

Dinner was going fine. Better than fine really. Luke and Chewie had spent the first half an hour making fun of Ben’s background, an image of the city at night. Ben had taken the teasing with a smile, saying that he had wanted to try something new. 

The enchiladas were great and the tortilla chips Ben had made were amazing. The wine Ben had picked out for the dinner went well. Han and Rey were talking about cars and Rey was enjoying watching Ben pretend to be annoyed at the focus of the conversation being on Han’s other child. 

No one seemed to be aware that Rey and Ben were in the same apartment, and Rey felt a rush of satisfaction come over her for getting away with it.

Then Rey dropped her wine glass, spilling the liquid down the front of her shirt. The glass broke on the edge of the table and when Rey went to pick it up, she felt the burn of the cut along her thumb.

“Fuck,” Rey shouted, sticking her thumb in her mouth without thought. 

“Are you okay?” Leia asked, a look of concern on her face.

“I’m fine,” Rey responded, blushing. “I’m just a bit of a klutz.”

Rey didn’t even notice that Ben was no longer on her screen until he was in front of her, setting down the first aid kid from her bathroom on the table next to her computer.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling at her hand to look at the cut. He inspected the cut with precision that the small cut didn’t warrant. 

“Ben, I’m fine,” Rey lifted her non-injured hand up to cup his chin and force him to look at her. “It’s no worse than a papercut. It’s not even really bleeding.”

“Still,” Ben glanced over at the first aid kit, opening it up and pulling out the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “You’ll let me clean it. And put a band-aid on it.”

“Sure babe,” Rey laughed. “As long as you admit that you’re doing this for you, and not for me.”

Ben didn’t say anything, he poured a small amount of the hydrogen peroxide on her finger, blowing on it as the chemical bubbled slightly along the cut. 

“Um,” Luke’s voice pulled Rey’s attention back to her computer. Han, Leia, Luke and Chewie were all staring at her and Ben. Rey had never seen such a big smile as the one on Leia’s face. Han smirked, as if he had known the entire time. 

“Anything you two want to share with the class?” Luke asked. 

Ben didn’t look away from Rey’s finger as he carefully wrapped the band-aid around the cut. “I’m at Rey’s apartment. Obviously.”

“And that’s why you had that ridiculous background?” Leia asked. “You didn’t want to just tell us that you were at Rey’s?”

“I was hoping to avoid this entire conversation,” Ben admitted, lifting Rey’s finger up to inspect the bandage. He placed a gentle kiss over the band-aid before gently placing her hand back in her lap. 

“I didn’t think you were supposed to be going around to be other people’s houses during stay home orders,” Chewie teased. 

“Violating the Governor’s directives to get a girlfriend? I guess he is your son after all, Han,” Luke said with a laugh. 

Ben blushed and Rey leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I need to go change my shirt,” Rey said, smiling at the camera. “I think I’ll need Ben’s help. You know, since I’m injured. So we’ll see you guys next week!”

“The ‘barely a papercut’ injury?” Leia teased.

"Better safe than sorry!” Rey exclaimed. She gave them all a tiny wave goodbye before exiting the meeting. 

The screen had barely closed out before Ben’s phone started lighting up with text messages.

“Maybe you should mute the group chat,” Rey said, laughing at some of the messages as the preview popped up on his screen.

“Probably a good idea.”

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” Rey said, sliding her hands around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Always,” he whispered against her lips.

“Now, you were saying something earlier about really, really good sex?” 

-----

Rey grinned as Ben squeezed her hand, pulling her into the ice cream shop with them. The stay home order was finally lifted and restaurants were opening, and even if new, additional social distancing requirements came along, the ability to be standing in an actual ice cream shop with Ben was worth all of it.

Even if they had to make reservations to go get ice cream. It was a new normal, and one she was more than willing to make adjustments for. 

Ben’s smile was infectious as he looked down at the ice cream flavors in the bins at the back of the room.

“I think,” Ben said, glancing up to the man behind the counter, “I would love a waffle cone with strawberry ice cream.”

“How many scoops?”

“Three.”

Rey snorted, shaking her head. “Three? Ben, that’s more sugar than I’ve ever seen you eat combined. You’re going to go into a sugar coma.”

“I imagine you’re eating at least half of it.”

Rey bit down on her bottom lip, leaning up to kiss Ben’s cheek. “You think you know me?”

“I know that I know you.”

“Oh yeah?” Rey raised an eyebrow. “Order for me then. Since you know me so well.”

“She’ll take a waffle cone with three scoops of…” Ben paused, taking one more look at all of the flavors. “Candy lovers delight.”

Rey pouted. He would pick the one she had been ready to order. 

“That’s not fair,” Rey argued as Ben paid for the ice cream. “You weren’t supposed to guess right.”

“I didn’t guess,” Ben told her, pulling out a chair at one of the small circle tables for Rey. “I just know you.”

Rey sat down, reaching into her bag, while Ben sat down across from her. She ran a finger across the journal that she had shoved in just before leaving her apartment. She had been debating when would be the best time to give it to him. 

She pulled the journal out, sliding it across the table.

"What's that?" Ben asked, picking the journal up with his free hand.

Rey squeezed his other hand. "You'll see."

Ben opened the journal, quickly reading through the pages. He smiled at Rey when he sat the journal back down, his mouth open wide as he chuckled. 

She had finished the scene weeks ago, but had been keeping it to herself. Arguing with Ben over the scene had been the highlight of many of her days stuck in her apartment. She didn't want to admit to him that he had convinced her relatively early into their talks.

The scene where Kira finally took Kylo’s hand. 

"It's perfect," Ben said, leaning forward to kiss her. "Absolutely perfect." 

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: Valentine’s Day

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~4.2k Rating: G, mostly. I’ll leave the T/M’ish stuff to your imagination... Time Frame: February of their 2nd year in high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: I couldn’t quite get this one done in time for the official holiday. I kept interrupting the flow with what I believed to be too much introspection, but I didn’t want to cut it completely, so I would write a new part to include it. And I still ended up dumping a bunch at the end. Que zura, zura...  At least it’s still February, so... better late than never?

----------

“Ayumu-sa~n!” a voice called from behind.

The redhead turned to see a raven-haired girl walking briskly to catch up, waving wildly as if it would make it easier to spot her in the mostly empty hall. Running would likely have been quicker, and her excited aura made it seem like she wanted to do so. However, Setsuna was a rule follower, or at least tried to present herself as such, so hastened walking was her best solution.

“What’s up, Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked, pausing by the clubroom door.

“I finished my book, so you and Yuu-san can borrow it now.”

“That was quick.”

Setsuna grinned as she reached the other girl. “It was so good I couldn’t put it down.”

Ayumu leaned down a little. “Did you stay up too late again to do so?” She asked, noticing poorly concealed dark spots under cendrée eyes.

Had the other girl really gone around all day looking like that? Ayumu would have probably said something in the morning had they walked to school together like most mornings recently. However, Yuu had made them late and they had missed their usual train.

“Uhm… maybe…?”

“Geez, what am I going to do with you two?” Ayumu sighed.

“Two?”

“Yuu-chan stayed up too late last night as well, working on a new song again.” Ayumu explained. “Then, she overslept. That’s why we couldn’t meet you this morning.”

Setsuna’s eyes sparkled in a way that made it harder to tell she was actually sleep deprived. “I can’t wait to hear it.” Apparently, her excitement for a new song had overridden her disappointment in not being able to walk together.

“That wasn’t the point.” Ayumu shook her head but couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s enthusiasm anyway. “You two need to take better care of yourselves.” Though she’d fussed over her childhood friend for years, over the last few months, Ayumu had found herself worrying over Setsuna as well, since both girls shared a few bad habits.

“Thank you for your concern.” Setsuna acknowledged honestly, something Ayumu appreciated as Yuu wasn’t quite as responsive in that area. “But I’ll be fine once I move around a bit more.” She made a few motions mimicking the upcoming practice session. “And before I forget…” She reached into her bag.

“Oh, what’s that?” Fluttering paper caught Ayumu’s eye as the other girl pulled out her book.

“What’s wha…” Setsuna looked down. “Eh? Nothing!” She dropped down to fetch what looked like a flyer from a local store. “It’s nothing!” She repeated, stuffing the page back in her bag. “Please forget you saw that.”

“Was that an advertisement for a Valentine’s Day sale?” Ayumu felt a little bad about pressing the issue that the other girl seemed desperate to avoid, but she couldn’t ignore the alarm that suddenly chimed in the back of her mind. “I think I got the same one the other day.”

Pink blossomed across Setsuna’s cheeks as she held Ayumu’s gaze. “… Yes…” She admitted after a moment. “But, uhm… please don’t tell the others, alright? I was hoping to keep it a secret that I was going to make chocolates for everyone.”

The tiny bells became a blaring klaxon. “Do you want to make them together?” Ayumu offered. “I was planning on picking up supplies on my way home today since Yuu-chan has to stay late on cleaning duty. We can make everything at my place if you want.”

The last part seemed to catch Setsuna’s attention. “Do you already have molds and mixing bowls and that kind of stuff?”

Ayumu nodded. “I’ve made chocolates for Yuu-chan for many years, but with exception of the molds, the rest of the equipment is fairly standard for baking.”

“That would save me the expense of buying my own…” Setsuna mused.

Ayumu tiled her head with curiosity. “You don’t already have…?”

“Oh, sorry, we don’t do much cooking at my place since my parents are often busy with work.” Setsuna explained. “We have a few of the basics, but nothing like the double boilers and such that I saw recommended online.”

Ayumu nodded. “We have those.”

“So, you’re alright letting me use your equipment?”

“Of course.” Ayumu smiled. “And I think it will also be more fun to bake together as well.” She decided not to explain her ulterior motive of keeping an eye on the exceedingly enthusiastic experimenter. “If you don’t mind keeping my own secret of what I’ll be making for everyone.”

Setsuna laughed. “My lips will be sealed.” She made a motion as though pulling a zipper closed over her mouth.

With that decided, the two girls entered the club room to begin practice.

----------

“Ah, here we go.” Ayumu pulled a few bars off the shelf. “I’ve used this brand before and it works well.” She made sure the other girl saw the items before she put them in her basket.

Setsuna nodded in affirmation but continued to scan the shelves.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” Ayumu inquired.

“The ones in the ad…”

“Oh, those will probably on display at the end of the aisle. Shall we check?”

“Alright.”

The two made their way to the endcap display.

“After I saw them in the flyer, I checked online and found some good reviews.” Setsuna explained as she picked up a few packages.

“That is dark chocolate,” Ayumu observed “so it won’t be as sweet as milk. But we have plenty of sugar at home if you decide you want to add some.”

“Alright.” Setsuna acknowledged. “Next up is bacon.”

“Bacon?” A new siren wailed in Ayumu’s mind. “Why would you need…?”

“Another reviewer linked to some recipes that suggested adding creative things like bacon instead of normal sea salt.”

“I think, for Valentine’s Day chocolate given to friends, we should stick to the <K.I.S.S.> principle.” Ayumu said the acronym in English.

“<Kiss?>” Setsuna repeated as a question.

“<Keep It Simple.>”

“What about the other S?”

Oh, right… Ayumu suddenly worried if Setsuna would take it as an insult. “<Keep It Simple, Stupid.>” She explained somewhat reluctantly.

“<Keep It Simple Stupid.>” Setsuna considered for a moment. “That makes sense. Love is complicated enough as it is, as shown so often in anime. And Valentine’s episodes always include some sort of drama or misunderstanding. So, keeping things simple is probably a good idea. And kisses are associated with Valentine’s as well. Yes, it definitely all makes sense.” She nodded, having reached her conclusion. “Alright, I’ll keep it simple.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly the explanation I would have gone with… Ayumu thought to herself, but if it works for her and keeps her out of trouble in the kitchen… She also found herself amused by how Setsuna always seemed to view the world through the lens of anime. Or idols. One or the other, sometimes both. It was rather cute, despite its absurdity, or perhaps… maybe because of it?

“I guess that also means no Tabasco sauce, parmesan or pickles?” Setsuna suddenly added.

“No. Definitely not.” Ayumu shook her head. What the heck kind of article suggested putting those kinds of things in Valentine’s chocolate?

“Hrm, I read the Tabasco or any sort of chili could represent burning passion.”

“Are you looking to convey burning passion to the others in the club?”

Setsuna blinked as though having just realized the implication. “Well… burning passionate friendship maybe?”

“Maybe Setsuna-chan is capable of that kind of thing.” Ayumu laughed. “But for now, why don’t we stick with the <K.I.S.S> principle?”

“Alright.” Thankfully, Setsuna didn’t seem too disappointed by having her ideas dismissed.

“So, shall we look at things to use for decoration?” Ayumu offered.

“Yes.” Setsuna agreed with a smile.

----------

“You know, I’m surprised you don’t do this with Yuu-san.” Setsuna commented as the two girls were setting up in Ayumu’s kitchen.

“Yuu-chan doesn’t have much interest in baking, or cooking, really.” Ayumu explained. “For Valentine’s, she just buys chocolate from the store.” She chuckled at memories. “However, she has actually made a bit of a tradition of buying the same kind for a few years now.”

“I can understand that. Traditions are fun.” Setsuna nodded. “And I had originally intended to buy chocolates for everyone this year, but then I got that flyer and it inspired me. I started researching things and got even more ideas and the more ideas I got the more I wanted to try making them myself.” She smiled. “Thank you again for letting me use your kitchen and equipment.”

“You’re most welcome, Setsuna-chan.”

With double boilers arranged on the stove and molds on the counter, the girls got to work. All the while, Ayumu kept a careful eye on what was being put in each pot, ensuring no extraneous ingredients were added. Thankfully, Setsuna seemed to be content with the items they had purchased. Perhaps the K.I.S.S. principle really had struck a chord with her?

Setsuna hummed happily to herself as she stirred her pot of chocolate before dipping in the thermometer as Ayumu had shown her a few minutes ago. “Oh, 31.5 degrees.” She announced.

“Perfect.” Ayumu responded, moving over to the stove. “Let’s give it a quick taste.” She dipped in a spoon. “That’s wonderful, Setsuna-chan. I hadn’t considered using dark chocolate before, but this is really good.” She smiled as the other girl bounced with excitement at the praise. “There’s a boldness that really suits you.”

“Boldness?”

“Here.” Ayumu held out what was left on the spoon. “Taste for yourself.”

“That is really good.” Setsuna agreed. “So, how is it different from yours?”

“Let’s find out.” Ayumu found a different spoon, dipped it into her pot and tasted it before holding it as well.

“Hrm… If mine is bold, then Ayumu-san’s is sweet.” Setsuna giggled as a thought occurred to her. “Not all that different from us on stage as school idols, don’t you think?”

Ayumu felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Maybe…”

“Anyway, yours is really good too, Ayumu-san.”

“Probably not as good as one made by someone like Kanata-chan.” Ayumu thought out loud.

“Ayumu-san.” Setsuna’s voice suddenly became stern.

“Eh?”

“That’s no good.” Furrowing her brow and putting a hand on her hip, Setsuna took on a commanding aura that made her seem bigger than her otherwise diminutive stature. It was something at which she excelled when performing on stage, but this was different. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Ayumu-san. Your chocolate is wonderful, and everyone will be grateful to receive it.”

“Oh…”

Setsuna didn’t seem satisfied with that response. “And I don’t just mean confidence here in the kitchen, by the way. You’re one of the hardest workers in the club, both academically and in school idol activities.” She paused for a moment. “Though I suppose I have read a lot of comments from your fans about how they think your bashfulness is cute and part of your charm. But they also appreciate your determination, so even they would have to agree that you should have more confidence in your abilities. Anyway, my point is that Yuu-san is going to love your chocolates. So will Kanata-san. And Kasumi-san. And all of the others.”

“And Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu couldn’t help a bit of hopefulness in her voice.

That seemed to throw Setsuna off. “I… Well…” Her hand fell from her hip and her brow unknitted. “Of course, myself as well. I just tasted it and told you it was good, right?” She paused again. “It’s not going to change in flavor when it hardens, right?”

“Not really, if we did things right, which it looks like we did. It won’t have as strong a smell when it’s solid, but it will still be good.” Ayumu assured with a chuckle. “Some of the toppings and decorations we’ll add in a bit will compliment things, but the chocolate itself will remain essentially the same as it now.”

“Oh, alright, that’s good.”

“Shall we get this stuff in the molds before it hardens in the pot?”

Setsuna nodded in agreement and the two began the next phase of their project.

“So, how long will these take to cool so we can reuse the molds?” Setsuna asked as she set a tray in the fridge.

“Reuse?”

“For the next batch.”

Ayumu realized that Setsuna still had several bars of unused chocolate. “How many were you planning on making?”

“I wanted to make some for the student counsel as well. And one more.”

“One more?”

“Is that the biggest mold you have?” Setsuna indicated one far larger than the others.

“I think so.” Ayumu picked up the tray in question. She had not personally ever used it for chocolate due to its size, rather for baking small cakes or cookies. “Who would this be for?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she began dreading the answer.

“Oh, uhm…” Pink dusted Setsuna’s cheeks. “I wanted to make a special one for Yuu-san” Ayumu’s breath hitched. Of course it would be for… “and Ayumu-san.” Oh… “If you two don’t mind sharing, of course.”

“No… that’s fine…” A different type of regret crept through Ayumu’s mind.

“I consider you two my best friends.” Setsuna admitted, glancing away somewhat sheepishly. “Of course I cherish the friendships I’ve made with the others in the club, but you two are different, and I wanted to do something different to show that. I actually had you two in mind when I first considered making all these.” She looked up. “Sorry for spoiling the surprise, but I guess that was inevitable when I agreed to come here for this project.”

“Well, it will still be a surprise for Yuu-chan.” Ayumu offered, as she attempted to suppress her unease.

“That’s true.” Setsuna agreed. “I hope you two like it.”

“I’ve already tasted it, so you already know what I think.” Ayumu pointed out.

Setsuna grinned as her usual cheerfulness came back on the rise. And as was often the case, her smile was contagious, so Ayumu couldn’t help returning one of her own, which made her feel better as well.

“Alright, let’s prepare some of the decorations while the first batch cools.” Ayumu said, moving over to the counter.

“Right.” Setsuna agreed as she followed.

----------

“Good morning, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu greeted her childhood friend on the other balcony.

“Mornin’ Ayumu…” Yuu yawned in return, rubbing at her eyes.

“Another late night?”

“Mmm…”

“What am I going to do with you two?” Ayumu sighed.

“Mm? Two?”

Huh, déjà vu. “Setsuna-chan stayed up too late the other night finishing her book.”

Yuu’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she said she was going to let us borrow it when she was done.”

“She gave it to me already.” Ayumu explained. “I’ll let you have it this weekend when it doesn’t matter as much if you stay up too late.”

Yuu pouted and Ayumu couldn’t help laughing lightly at the adorable reaction.

“Anyway, it’s good you’re up in time today. Setsuna-chan and I worked hard yesterday and want to give you your gifts as soon as possible.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. One sec…” Yuu turned as if to head back into her room.

“Just go ahead and get ready, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu called after her friend. “I’ll see you at the stairs in a few.”

“Alright!” came the response from the other side of the divider.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Yuu came barreling down the stairs, buttered toast in her mouth like she was cosplaying an anime character.

“Yuu-chan, your ribbon is wrong…” Ayumu stopped her friend so she could adjust the bow. “There we go.”

“Thanks Ayumu.” Yuu replied with a chewing grin.

“Geez, and you’re getting crumbs…” Ayumu picked two pieces off Yuu’s cheek and ate them.

As if not even noticing, Yuu finished her breakfast and reached into her bag. “Happy Valentine’s, Ayumu!” She said, proudly presenting a package.

“Thank you, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu accepted the chocolate.

Sure enough, they were the same as years prior. She loved the tradition and as such, the brand had become one of her favorites, though she only indulged in it once a year. And, as per tradition, she quickly opened the package, removed one piece and ate it. She then took out a second piece and offered it to the person who had just given them to her.

“Mm, those are always so good.” Yuu commented. “I’d say they’re my favorite, but there is one kind that is better.”

Ayumu smiled as she knew the implications of the compliment, as if Yuu’s expectantly excited expression wasn’t enough of a giveaway. Thus, she reached into her own bag and produced one of the chocolates she had made the previous evening.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Yuu-chan.”

“That looks as amazing as ever.” Yuu observed as she accepted the chocolate. After quickly opening the package, she broke off a sizable piece, split it in two and offered one back to Ayumu. Same as the year before, and the year before that. “Yes, Ayumu’s chocolates really are the best.” Yuu said after swallowing.

“Shall we go meet up with Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked.

“Of course!” Yuu agreed as the two headed toward the station.

----------

“Setsuna-chan!” Yuu called, spotting their friend leaning against the same pillar as every morning since the three of them started walking to school together.

“Good morning, Yuu-san, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna bowed politely as the two approached.

“Good morning.” Ayumu replied with a smile.

“Happy Valentine’s!” Yuu cried, pulling out a package that looked to be the same size as the one she had given Ayumu a little while ago.

“Thank you.” Setsua accepted with a smile that rivaled the size of the gift. “May I open it now?”

Yuu laughed. “Of course!”

Ayumu couldn’t help paying close attention as the paper was removed to reveal… sure enough, it was the same brand. Yuu had given them both identical gifts. And that bothered… no wait, did it actually bother her? Strange. Several months ago, it absolutely would have. But now…

“These are really good.” Setsuna’s voice caught Ayumu’s attention again. “Want one?” She held out a pair.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Yuu replied.

Ayumu dismissed her initial thought to point out that she already had some of her own, due to Yuu having given her a box back home. Instead, she smiled and accepted the offer. Setsuna had melded all but seamlessly into their habits of sharing snacks so of course she would continue now.

“Thank you.” She said before taking a bite.

“Ayumu already knows, because she helped me make it, but I have something for you two as well.” Setsuna reached into her bag.

“Woah, that’s not just for…” Yuu started.

“It’s for both of you.” Setsuna finished.

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.” Yuu started unwrapping. “Still, this is amazing, Setsuna-chan. You put a lot of work into this.” She admired the decorations for a few moments.

Ayumu couldn’t disagree. She’d watched Setsuna pour her heart into practically professional level details. What she lacked in traditional taste, Setsuna more than made up for with an exceptional, though esoteric aesthetic.

“It’s almost a shame to eat something like this.” Yuu continued.

Setsuna laughed. “It’s fine. Eating it is the point. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Let’s see…” In a similar manner to what she had done with Ayumu’s chocolate, Yuu broke off a piece, but this time divided it into three. “There we go.”

Setsuna and Ayumu accepted their shares and the three popped their pieces into their mouths at the same time.

Yuu started to chuckle after she swallowed. “Looks like the brand I’ve been giving is going to be bumped down another notch.”

Setsuna tilted her head and blinked with a silent question.

“Ayumu’s is already ahead on my favorites list, but now Setsuna-chan’s is as well.” Yuu explained.

Ayumu found herself wondering about her own list of favorites. Setsuna’s chocolate really was delicious and Ayumu took a bit of pride in knowing she had helped rein in the adventurous chef so as to produce something that good. Also, Yuu was correct that it was better than the store-bought kind she gave. But was that all enough to edge out the sense of nostalgia Ayumu felt every year from Yuu’s gift? Or did it simply bring them both to the same level? Would she feel the same if she had left Setsuna to her own devices where she would have likely used bacon, Tabasco – seriously, what was her obsession with Tabasco? – paremesan, pickels and deities only knew what else?

“Oh, is that the time?” Yuu asked, her attention focused on one of the various displays around the platform. “We should get going so we’re not late to class.”

“Wait,” Ayumu spoke up before the other two started moving “I still have to give mine.”

Even though she likely knew it was coming, even though she had already helped taste test the batch and witnessed the decoration process, Setsuna bounced a little with an excitedly expectant energy. Ayumu noted how similar the behavior was to Yuu’s earlier reaction.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Setsuna-chan.”

Setsuna tore into the package with equal enthusiasm as with the first from Yuu. And like before, a piece was broken off and shared among the three before they started walking toward their school.

While her two friends seemed filled with festive fervor, something else held Ayumu’s thoughts. Certainly, she was happy that her friends were happy, and she was sure to smile when either directed their attention toward her, but something felt off. And not only was it different than what she had felt in months before, she couldn’t decide if it was better or worse.

----------

So, the packages of chocolates Yuu had given the other girls in the club had indeed been the same brand, but in smaller packages. And she had given Ayumu and Setsuna the same size. Did that mean that Yuu viewed them the same?

Ayumu pondered the day’s events as she made her way to her room to prepare for her bath.

Yuu had said, months ago, that Setsuna was not more important to her than Ayumu. And while Ayumu had trouble believing the statement at first, as more was revealed, she came to realize the truth in Yuu’s statement. However, that still did not rule out the possibility that Yuu considered the two of them equally important.

Thus, Ayumu found herself conflicted. On the one hand, there was the old familiar feeling of fear that she might lose Yuu to someone else… not that Yuu was actually hers, but… It was the feeling that had spiked in the days before the festival due to that misunderstanding with Setsuna and the same one she had tried hard to quash after things were made clear.

She didn’t want to be upset with Setsuna though, because as far as she could tell, the other girl had no intentions of stealing Yuu away from her. In fact, Setsuna had been nothing but honest and sincere in her desire to be close friends with both of them.

And that lead to the other hand, where Ayumu had come to truly enjoy the time the three spent together, often missing Setsuna’s presence when it was just her and Yuu. Heck, inviting Setsuna over to make chocolates wasn’t even the first time they had spent time together without Yuu, and there was no denying how much fun Ayumu had that evening.

So, did Yuu see her and Setsuna the same? Did Setsuna see her and Yuu the same? For that matter, did Ayumu see the other two the same? And if they did all see each other the same, what did that mean for them as friends… or lov…?

Despite there being no witnesses around to see her face, Ayumu felt like she needed to hide the fact that she was blushing at the thought of a relationship beyond what she already had with her two friends. And some of the activities that might be involved with such a relationship.

Certainly, this wasn’t the first time she had imagined such things between herself and Yuu, but it was the first time Setsuna had made an appearance in such fantasies. And Ayumu couldn’t deny that the ideas held an amount of appeal. Quite a bit of appeal, actually. Far more than she anticipated.

Ayumu leaned back in the tub and allowed her thoughts to continue meandering through various scenarios, several of which became more than slightly sensual. By the time she was finished with her bath, she was quite ready to crawl under the covers and fall asleep.

But first, she needed to send her nightly message to Yuu. After hitting Send, she was about to set down her phone and don her pajamas when a thought occurred to her. She switched conversation threads and sent a similar good night message to Setsuna. Then, with a smile, she placed the device by her pillow and finished getting ready for bed.

The two other girls had responded by the time Ayumu crawled into bed so she read their messages before pulling up the covers. Finally, as sleep started to take over, Ayumu found herself looking forward to the next day so she could see Yuu, and Setsuna, again.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[takingcourage]

Bring to a Simmer

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 2,200

Summary: Arden attempts to make the inaugural batch of ‘Dad and Arden’s Stroganoff,’ but with Jaime around, staying focused is more easily said than done. 

Note: This is just a silly little oneshot inspired by some optional dialogue from the “remembering mom” diamond scene in Chapter 13. I thought it could be a fun premise for a story, especially with a side of Jaime Lewis there to spice things up. Gosh, I’m going to miss this book. 

This also fulfills a request I received for kiss prompt #8 (the playful kiss on the tip of the nose). 

“I’ve got the onion sliced, pumpkin.”

Up to her elbows in flour, Arden looked over her shoulder toward to check her father’s progress at the breakfast table. “Great! I’ll bring the mushrooms over in just a minute.”

Turning her attention back to the recipe card in front of her, she mashed at the sticky dough again. It never looks this way on Bake Off, she considered, worrying her inner cheek against her teeth. But then again, they’re usually making pastry, not pasta. The thought made her feel slightly better, but she still had very little faith that the pasty substance before her was going to end up resembling anything close to her mother’s stroganoff noodles.

She pried one hand away from the clumpy mass, grimacing at the feeling of her very messy fingers sticking to the paper of the flour bag. How had her mom always managed to make cooking look so easy? Even a simple four-ingredient pasta dough was enough to tempt Arden toward a delivery service.

It’s not about the finished product, she reminded herself. This is about remembering mom and making new memories.

Picking at the excess lumps of dough from between her fingers, she wondered how she’d keep her father involved in the process once all of the ingredients had been chopped. His leg had been particularly bad today, which meant that he couldn’t spend much time on his feet without his trusty cane by his side. Unfortunately, canes and cooking didn’t mix particularly well.

“Can you see Jaime working out there?”

She smiled at his inquiry, lifting her eyes momentarily to catch a glimpse of the man at their fence line. “Yep, he’s hard at it. You’ll be really happy with how it looks, dad. I promise.”

“Your mother would have put me in the dog house if she’d seen how bad I let it get. I just…” His voice grew wistful as the sentence trailed, and Arden had to take a deep breath to steady herself.

“It just didn’t seem as important without her around. I think she’d forgive you.” 

The front yard had been a point of contention ever since her mother had fallen ill. Melinda Gale had always taken great pride in her plants, the perfect picket fence, her trailing ivy – all things that Harry only tended to on her behalf. In recent years, the yard had been gradually falling into a state of disrepair. 

Thank goodness for Jaime and his powers of persuasion. He’d been gently nudging for several months, and after coming home from the hospital, her father was finally ready to accept the offer. Arden was just glad that the matter had been resolved without too much nagging on her part.  

That’s not all I’m grateful for, she mused, sneaking another glance out the window. 

She’d known Jaime was attractive for years, but if possible, he’d grown even more gorgeous to her in the past week. Maybe it was because she’d been out of work and had had more time to appreciate him. Maybe it was because she’d seen every inch of him on the night after the gubernatorial debate and knew exactly what was hiding underneath those work clothes. Or maybe it was because she loved him. That word still made her pulse skip every time she thought it. 

Beyond being very nice to look at and prompting irregular heartbeats, he was also incredibly skilled at repairing fences. In a single afternoon, he’d managed to replace the missing and broken pickets, paint the entirety, and purchase new balusters for the front porch. His abilities seemed to go on without end. 

Arden’s own talents felt questionable at the moment, though her hands were becoming less laden with dough the more she rolled and patted the clump into submission. She gave it a final smack, drawing her hand away slowly to determine whether the consistency was ready for rolling.

Although she’d never assisted her mother in the process of making dough, she did have an idea, more or less, of what the final result should look like. The mass on the counter wasn’t an exact replica, but she didn’t think that her attempt was too far off.

At the table, her dad inhaled a sharp breath, but it was several long moments before his words came. “I’m glad you talked me into this, honey. I think your mom would probably get a kick out of watching our struggles in the kitchen.”

“So do I.” Smiling faintly at the thought, she sidestepped to the sink and began the chore of cleaning her hands.

“And she’d be even happier to see how well you and Jaime are getting along these days." 

Arden yanked the kitchen towel a little harder than intended, causing the cabinet door it hung from to squeal in protest. 

Her father clearly needed something else to keep him occupied.

Carrying in the colander of button mushrooms, she set them before the man without a word. As she traded him for the plate of onion slices, she caught the mischievous grin slanting its way up his face. 

"I’m not as blind as you think I am, Arden.”

“I know.”

“And he’s been looking at you like he wants to haul you off and marry you." 

She knew that too. 

Thankfully, her back was turned by in time to hide the blush spreading over her cheeks. "We’re still figuring things out,” she answered evasively. Pulling the largest pot from the oven drawer, she set about filling it in the sink.

“I know I promised not to tell you how to live your life anymore, but he’s the only man I know who’s good enough for my Arden.” She ought to just kiss him sometime. She’s been half in love with him since they were kids. 

Arden pretended not to hear his thought or his comment over the running water. Her father might claim to have seen things, but he’d missed an awful lot of kisses that had passed between them in the last couple of weeks. Beyond that, he didn’t have the faintest idea that she’d spent the night next door after the insanity of the debate. As she waited for the pot to fill, she snuck another look through the glass.

Jaime was removing his shirt.

Her skin flushed again at the sight of his toned, tanned body. Her hands ached to glide along those perfect abs – to wrap her arms around his neck so she was pressed flush against the heat of his chest. Sleeping with him had been incredible. Waking up in his arms, nothing short of divine. 

They hadn’t discussed their plans for after dinner, but maybe she could talk him into another sleepover…

With a start, she realized that the water was spilling over the side of the pot. She drained the excess quickly, vaguely aware of the sporadic sound of chopping coming from the breakfast table.

Her father didn’t say anything, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye when she returned to the table with the beef. 

_____

 Thirty minutes later, she’d managed to produce something that vaguely resembled stroganoff. Arden counted it as something of a marvel that she hadn’t given up the whole cooking endeavor in favor of just standing and staring out the window. She knew he wasn’t doing it deliberately, but Jaime had been putting on quite a show.

Wielding a paintbrush, standing back to consider his work, wiping his brow – everything he did set her blood on fire. As the evening had worn on, the pan before her received less and less of her attention. The sight through the window had proven too tempting for her to resist. 

His work on the fence complete, Jaime had switched to trimming the bushes in front of the house. As he skirted around the plant, she caught his eye. Arden sucked a breath at his wink.

"I’ll be right back,” she promised her father, hardly taking the time to make sure that he was still cutting romaine hearts for their salad.

Jaime’s eyes were on her as soon as she passed through the door, the shears falling to his side. “The view from the kitchen wasn’t enough, I see. Did you decide it was time to get up close and personal?” 

She rolled her eyes. When she looked up at him again, she was taken aback by the glisten of sweat all over him. With his chest mere inches from her face, she could discern each perfectly sculpted ab, and her fingers twitched with longing at her side. Arden wondered idly how much it would scandalize the neighbors if she started making out with him in her father’s front yard.

Still not prepared for this view?

She reddened at his thought as their eyes met, his sweaty hair obscuring vision from one side. “I’m still getting used to...” she gestured vaguely at his stomach, much to Jaime’s amusement. “But I actually came out to give you a dinner update. It all just needs to simmer for about twenty more minutes and then we’ll be ready to eat.” 

“I’m looking forward to it. I should reach a pretty good stopping place shortly, so I’ll have time for a quick shower before we eat.”

Arden’s mouth grew very dry at the appealing mental images his suggestion graced her with. Distracted, her gaze wavered from his face for a moment – not long enough to satisfy her desire, but certainly long enough to attract his notice.

"You keep looking at my chest, Arden. Is everything okay?” Not that I mind. I’ve only been hoping for this for years.   

Knowing she’d been caught, Arden dropped all pretense and stared openly. She sighed and lifted her face to his. “I’m just thinking again how much I’d like to kiss you right now.”

Jaime bristled with pleasure. “You wouldn’t get any complaints from me if you did, but I am pretty sweaty at the moment. We should probably wait until after dinner.”

Someday, she’d have to tell him that she didn’t mind him being sweaty. In fact, she’d found sweaty kisses with Jaime to be extremely enjoyable just a few nights before. With that memory in mind, she was inspired. “Can I just have one for now?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, uncovering both eyes. The deep brown pools were gleaming with equal parts humor and desire. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Arden tilted her chin, lips poised and eager for contact. Jaime’s mouth was warm and soft as it descended on hers, the salt of his sweat making her relish the experience even more. Body responding of its own volition, she had to pinch herself to keep from throwing both arms around his neck. Even after he’d pulled away, it took a moment for her to regain full control of her senses.

Just as her head cleared Jaime caught her by surprise, leaning down a second time to brush his lips gently across the tip of her nose. 

She wrinkled the bridge instinctively. “What was that for?”

“I couldn’t help it,” he explained. “You’re just so damn kissable, Arden.” 

“So are you. Please tell me there will be time for more kisses later?”

“I was hoping you’d suggest that.” He stretched out his free hand, skimming the pads of his fingers along her forearm. 

“The mind-blowing, earth-shaking kisses that are full of ten years of pent-up desire?”

He chuckled at her description. “You know those are my favorites. And I don’t have any plans for the rest of the night.” 

“Mmmhmmm.” His little half smile was doing funny things to her stomach. It wasn’t long before she’d lost all track of what he’d been saying. 

Should I put my shirt back on? 

His thought managed to get her attention, and she recoiled. “Don’t even joke about that. I’m enjoying the view way too much.” 

“You can enjoy it as much as you want after dinner.” 

“That feels like too long to wait.” She took another step toward him, forgetting both sweat and propriety in her need to touch him. 

“Arden,” he cautioned, though she knew from the yearning on his face that he wasn’t going to tell her no. 

Was that the door?

His thought corresponded with a click from the porch, followed by the beat of her father’s cane.

Their heads swung toward the doorway where Harry Gale stood, watching them both with an arched brow. Maybe she doesn’t need my encouragement after all... After taking a moment to collect himself, he announced, “Your pan boiled over. I got it off the burner, but I’m not sure what to do next.” 

Arden stared at him dumbly. “I was just….I, um.” She swallowed hard and forced her thoughts away from the man beside her. “I’ll come figure it out.” 

Her father retreated back to the house, leaving her alone with Jaime once more. 

“Go do what you need to do with dinner. I’ll finish up here and be in in a few minutes,” he told her, trailing a finger along her inner palm. Before she could pull away, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“See you then,” she promised, breaking the link between them. As she hurried up the porch stairs, she decided that an addition to her mother’s recipe was in order: 

Step 1 - If Jaime is outside, close curtains on the kitchen window. 

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

TWENTY-THREE

The rest of the week passed quickly as you finalized plans for the southern California convention taking place the first weekend of December. When you'd asked what would happen once the convention circuit finished for the year, Misha had reminded you that he was in the middle of filming season thirteen, and that it was likely the two of you would be spending a substantial part of the next several months in Vancouver. Although since he lived so close he often came home on the weekends, so he assured you would have some down time. Not that you minded, spending a bunch of time with your prohibitively sexy boss who you also happened to be sleeping with? It was a no-brainer.

Thursday morning dawned chilly, a cold wind and drizzling rain pelted the worn shingles of your roof. Drawing the Venetian blinds open filled the living room with a grey light and you smiled as your cats appointed themselves door guardians, keeping a wary eye on the crows who enjoyed taunting them from the deck.

Padding into the kitchen you set to work gathering the materials to make cheesecake. It was your favorite dessert, and you saved the lengthy process for the holidays. Reaching up to the top shelf of your cupboards required a step stool, as even on tiptoes the mixing bowls eluded you. Whoever had designed the kitchen failed to realize that putting cupboards above the dishwasher made them out of reach for all but the tallest people.

Straining for the stack of glass bowls occupied your attention. Just as you got a good grip on the lip of one your phone rang. Looking around you in search of the source quickly revealed that you'd left the device on the couch. By the sounds of the muffled tone, it had slid between the cushions. Setting the bowls on the counter you ran into the adjacent room, just catching the call before it went to voicemail.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Collins.” Groaning, Misha sighed on the other end of the call. “You're lucky I need you Ms. [Y/L/N], otherwise you'd be in serious need of an attitude adjustment.” 

The gravelly admonishment made you flush, a crimson heat pooling through your belly. Clearing his throat, your boss quickly changed the subject. 

“So, ahh, I hate to do this but..do you think you could come help us in the kitchen? I may have bitten off more than I could chew with this menu.” 

You were about to tell him you'd be happy to, but he continued, hastily adding that you could bring your sister if you wanted to and that he'd give you a bonus if you'd save his ass. Laughing through the line, you agreed - on the condition that you could bring dessert. “Thanks [Y/F/N], you really are a lifesaver.”

You weren't about to turn down more time with Misha, the salary boost was just an added bonus. He need never know that you had planned on spending the day stuffing your face with cheesecake; deciding to forego the big spread when you realized you'd be spending the holiday alone had saved you a lot of time and money.

Gathering all of the ingredients into a grocery tote along with several mixing bowls, your biggest springform pan and the fresh fruit used for garnish, you moved into your room to change. The bright blue fleece pajama pants littered with sheep that you currently wore didn't exactly feel right.

Not wanting to overdo things, you decided on a pair of soft, plum colored leggings and a form-fitting black tunic top, the hem falling just a few inches past the curve of your thighs. Pulling knee-high, oatmeal colored wool socks on before lacing up your pair of soft leather boots completed the outfit. Spreading a thick layer of dark eyeliner on to accompany the purple and black smokey-eye was just enough to tie everything together, your [Y/E/C] irises framed by the heavier makeup.

Pulling a brush through your long [Y/H/C] hair was enough, you knew if you were cooking that a fancier hairstyle wouldn't last long anyhow.

The highway held few cars, making the drive pass quickly. Pulling into Misha’s neighborhood, you were surprised by the number of cars parked both in his driveway and lining the street. Knocking on the heavy front door left you standing on the porch for a few minutes. After several tries,  you squeezed the handle, and finding it unlocked, let yourself in.

The maelstrom that greeted you was intense. West chased Tom and Shep through the house while JJ sat on the plush rug of the living room and stacked blocks with Maison. Gen and Daneel reclined together on the overstuffed sofa, glasses of red wine clutched in their hands, chatting as they kept a watchful eye on the girls. Rather than being overwhelmed, you felt like part of the family, a smile passing over your face as you took in your surroundings and made your way to the kitchen.

Vicki stood behind the cool marble covered island that dominated the center of the room. The sharp knife in her hand sliced through vegetables with ease. Seeing you walk in, she lowered the blade, and, wiping her hands on the half apron tied around her waist; enveloped you in a bone crushing hug. 

“[Y/F/N]! Thank you so much for coming to help with dinner...you know how Misha can be.” Thinking back to the first night you’d met the Collins’, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “So, what scheme has he thought of this time?” 

Lifting your bags up onto the counter, your [Y/E/C] eyes widened in shock at the thick piece of cardstock Vicki handed across her work station. 

“He..he actually made a menu?” “Where is our host anyhow?” Vicki snorted under her breath in mild amusement, motioning vaguely over her shoulder with the knife she’d taken up to finish her task.

Turning your attention to the set of double french doors behind her, you wandered across the cool wooden floor and looked through the glass. Misha, Jared and Jensen were all huddled around a large grill, where two twenty-pound turkeys were trussed and stuffed with herbs; slowly turning over the open flame. Jared noticed you first as you leaned against the oak door frame, impressed at their dedication. 

“Why am I not surprised that you are actually roasting turkeys over an open fire?” Jensen held up his hands and backed away from the heat, shaking his head while he tilted an amber bottle to his lips.

“Not me, Jared and I are giving him shit. There’s no way Misha can do this and have them finish before next year. We’re taking bets on how long it’ll take until we get to eat.” 

“Supervising, you might say..” Jared quipped as he moved to wrap his arms around you in greeting.

Misha’s attention finally rose from the spit and his eyes met [Y/F/N], a slow smile twisting over his face at the woman standing in his doorway. She looked amazing; a glass of wine in her hand as she smiled back at him, an amused expression on her face. 

“Well boys, have fun out here in the cold. I’m going back inside to surround myself with beautiful women...and cheesecake.” A torrent of wind off of the bay swirled around you as you stepped back into the warmth of the house.

There was a great deal of work to be done for the two desserts you had promised. Melting white chocolate over a double boiler while simultaneously reducing fresh raspberries into a puree forced you to abandon the glass of merlot Vicki had poured you. With those tasks complete you began assembling the base recipe for the cheesecakes themselves, the onyx monster of a stand mixer working overtime to whip the ingredients together. Crossing the kitchen to pour freshly ground coffee beans into the espresso machine for the tiramisu cheesecake took only a moment, the compelling smell warming you from the inside out.

Two hours later, you pulled the hot desserts from the double ovens set into the wall. Lowering the cakes to cooling racks well out of reach of small hands, you sighed; content. The smell of roasting turkey wafted through the open door when you poked your head outside to check how things were going. Rosemary, thyme and orange married together beautifully, a hint of sage rounding out the bouquet. The smug look on Misha’s face at his success caught your eye, his piercing blue eyes lit with satisfaction, that damning smile of his adding to the heat that burned through you.

Setting the expansive table distracted you well enough. A smaller, square oak table had been set aside just for the kids and you found your mind wandering to how it would feel to have your own child joining the others as they clambered up into their chairs. Shaking your head, you huffed at the thought. You didn’t like children. Mentally berating the biological clock that occasionally screamed at you to procreate, you shoved the idea away from your conscience. You could barely take care of yourself, adding a two-legged little gremlin to the mix wasn’t even a somewhat good idea. Pouring yourself a second glass of wine, you settled into one of the twelve heavy chairs that flocked the stretch of dark wood quickly filling with a myriad of dishes.

Dinner played out as if it were the scene in a hallmark movie. The  food was delicious, Misha spending twenty minutes carving up both turkeys before setting large, oval platters of meat at each end of the table. Tureens filled with mashed potatoes, both sweet and gold sat nestled amongst casseroles of stuffing, whole cranberries lending their beautiful color to the tablescape. Massive biscuits rested in napkin lined baskets; an old recipe handed down to Gen from her grandparents. Misha’s homemade wine flowing freely while the kids enjoyed fresh squeezed lemonade, West excitedly telling anyone who would listen that he’d help make it.

“[Y/F/N], where’s your sister? Did she not want to join us?” Jared’s hazel eyes were warm as they turned to you, his fingers laced with Gen’s. 

“She’s decided to stay in Hawaii for another week, actually.” Vicki’s eyes widened as she realized that you’d planned to be home alone today and she grimaced.

“If Misha hadn’t called you to help, what exactly would you be doing right now?” Shrugging, you swallowed another drink of the fruity liquid in your glass before answering. 

“Probably stuffing myself full of cheesecake and watching movies in my pajamas.” 

“What?! There are at least three food groups in cheesecake, it’s a nice, balanced meal.” 

“I’m not complaining though, this turkey is a-maaaazing Misha.”

After hours spent shopping, prepping and cooking the veritable feast laid out before you, everyone was overfull within thirty minutes. Jared and Jensen herded the children upstairs to change into pajamas and get cleaned up while Daneel, Gen and Vicki cleared the table. Back in the kitchen you pulled the fresh raspberry puree and heavy whipping cream from the refrigerator, spreading the fruit topping evenly across the surface of one of the cheesecakes. White chocolate curls and whole berries decorated the outer ring and sides of the confection. 

Adding the heavy cream to a stainless steel charger produced beautifully fresh cream for the tiramisu cake and, carrying them out to the table gleaned the interest of everyone in the house. A concerned look fell over Jensen’s face as he warred with the idea of whether or not he could fit additional food in his stomach. Laughing, you assured him there was plenty and that he could eat it later. With a curt nod of his head, he and Jared followed Misha back outside and you turned questioning glances to the women sitting around you. 

“It’s become a bit of a tradition when we’re all together to light up the fire pit and disconnect for awhile. C’mon [Y/F/N], you’ll see what we mean.” Vicki’s fingers stretched out to envelope your own as she moved to lift several large blankets from a basket by the door. Tilting her head in invitation, you followed her and the others outside where the boys already sat, the small children clambering up into their father’s laps. As you moved to sit in one of the adirondack chairs huddled near the iron pit of dancing flames, Vicki glared at you. 

“Don’t even think about running off by yourself, you come sit with us. You’re family now, whether you like it or not.”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

[badass-queen-of-puns]

Midnight Snack Part 3/Last Part (Kallura One Shot)

Summary: Allura and Keith have floured themselves in a predicament and only the way for them to solve it is with something expected that happens to be revealed. 

Word Count: 5846 (I’m so sorry for this long ass final part that keeps getting longer each time I post, but it had to be done and it’ll be worth it in the end. I promise lol)

Warnings: Lots of FEELS (and i do mean in all CAPS), tons of laughter in between and hopefully a few deaths at the end haha just kidding! Maybe on the inside. XD Though really, you might wanna prepare yourself. 

Please read Part 1 & Part 2 First if you haven’t. Starts with Keith’s then Allura’s POV.

If anything were to be said at that exact moment, now was the time. Yet as they both stood there, frozen is stature, ridiculous expressions covering their flour-pasted faces not a single word was intended to be said. Just silence. The type of silence they would want to take their bayard out and slice it so hard that a sound would be produced right out in front of them. If only they could.

Even as they both showed lack of movement in this sudden predicament, Keith’s expression became plain as day. Not angry. Not confused. Heck, he didn’t even care about the amount of flour that was plastered on his face. The only thing that caught his eye at that instant was the expression Allura wore in front of him right after she sneezed in his face. Utter humiliation. That was enough for him to ignore the reasoning behind his intended arrival with an unexpected fit of laughter coming right out of him.

Come on, Allura. Say something. He’s laughing right at you! Laughing? She thought to herself. You just sneezed in his face! Why would he be laughing? Yes, apology! I need to apologize!

“Keith! What are you doing here? It’s not like you to come to the kitchen that often. I would have assumed you would be in your room or in the training deck--” She felt herself babbling unnecessarily, moving her hands in whichever way she could that seemed like she was clear on the situation. But her words alone wasn’t enough to stop the laughter that was coming out of Keith’s mouth. She began to pout, wondering if he was even listening.

Though for Keith he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t even realize he was laughing until he placed both his arms around his stomach as if the laughter was too much for his body to let out. Like it was a replacement for the hunger he once felt just moments before. On the other hand, Allura’s expression began to display complete hopelessness. This wasn’t how this was suppose to go. She thought, sighing as a warm smile surfaced on her lips, unnoticed. Though it nice to see him laughing for once.

Just as the faint sound of her breath escaped her lips, Keith responds back.

“I’m sorry, Allura.” His voice bringing out a hint of laughter as if trying to hold it in. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you looking like that.” Pointing at her as he said, revealing the reason for his uncharacteristically amused behavior.

Looking like what? She thought to herself as she gave Keith a clueless expression on her face. Seeing that he was pointing straight at her, she looks down seeing her hands covered in flour that she had to touch her face feeling the powdery substance at her fingertips. She knew then that she must of looked like a total mess. A mess that she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of.

Yet as she began recollecting on the flour incident that made her this way, she began to giggle. Ever-so loudly.

Now laughter was emanating from the both of them. Pure, defenseless laughter.

As Allura heard the sound of his voice become more overthrown with amusement than before, it became the same effect for Keith as he suddenly heard hers. You would think that someone would of heard the two as they appeared laughing their stomachs out, but in all truth what happened to be is that the doorway closed shut not too long before the laughter began, sound proofing their voices and insistent laughter.

Got to thank a couple of little mice for that.

“You are just the same, you know.” Allura states the fact, seeing as to that Keith was covered with the same white powdery substance as her, but for some reason he looked better in it than she was. At least, that’s what her eyes were telling her.

“No thanks to you.” He voices, admittingly. He was never afraid to just spit out the truth when needed, but when it came to his own worries or thoughts that was something he knew he would have trouble doing. Especially if the reason for his worriment was standing, giggling right in front of him. He wondered for a moment as he looked at her, eyebrow raised. Why was she here? Why was she awake at this hour? Questions rolled through his mind as she spoke back at him, her amusing smile providing a sense of relief as if the things that he had been worrying about the past few days were nothing but worries. Yeah, just worries.

“My apologies.” Giggles still flowing right out of her, but slowly dying out as she brushes the flour off herself that was on her dress.

“I suppose we both are a mess.” Keith’s eyes gravitated towards Allura’s, allowing a smile take place on his lips that he didn’t think he would have been able to show.

“Mess indeed.” Allura replies, returning the gesture right back. Wide as can be.

Looking back at each other, their eyes unwavering as always with a truth hidden beneath them both. They didn’t need words to know what their eyes were telling them. But how they were to know that they were thinking of each other? Even though, his mind has been filled with worrying about her. Even though, she was thinking about him more than she should. They both placed each other at a distance, close in sight yet far from their feelings could admit in the midst of what they were unwilling to act upon.

Though as the laughter faded amongst themselves, they both knew they should say something to ease into the conversation that opened up for them. Taking the initiative, Keith decides to speak first, already contemplating on what the princess-in-white was up to at this hour.

“Were you…? Cooking something?” He nodded towards the mess that was scattered across the kitchen counter. He tried to piece together the scene that was beside her without revealing too much of his own curiosity underneath that mullet hair of his.

“Umm...Yes. Though I am not sure of the particulars of this certain recipe I am suppose to be making.” Allura replies as she glances at the disaster that was her attempt at baking a delicious treat in the middle of the night.

“What is it that you’re trying to make exactly?” Keith asks, picking up a poorly made piece of dough that one could tell had eggshells sticking out of it still.

She shrugged, unenthusiastically, embarrassed to even say it. “Cinnamon rolls.”

Cinnamon rolls? Keith thought to himself, wondering how she manage to think of something like that to make in the first place.

“I see.” That's all he manages to say as he moves his head around the whole room, looking at it as if he was inspecting her area for anything out of the ordinary besides the fact that the place was already looking opposite of its former appearance. “Any reason you decided to do this?”

Evading the embarrassment of telling the actual truth that his mom was the one who advised her to make such a dish, she quickly says “Uhh..I heard you talking about them one time with Shiro. I thought I might try making them somehow. You’d be surprised what the castle actually has hidden underneath all those cupboards. Especially now that Pidge and Hunk had added some interior modifications to the kitchen’s equipment to suit the right cooking capabilities.”

As she continued on, Keith pondered on the memory, trying to recall that particular subject. Did I?

“I’m not all too familiar with your Earth delicacies as you are to the ship’s providing food sustenance. But it’s always nice to try something out of my element. As my father always told me, ‘You can never dismiss yourself of the opportunity to go out of your mind’s limit of learning.’” Allura continued as she tried situating herself in picking some of the ingredients she was using beforehand, hoping some were still in good use.

Keith listened to her as she spoke, admiring her words of the past about her dad. Someone she lost. She was someone who held the lingering feeling of remembering who he was. Something he often did himself when remembering his own. Someone he wished he didn’t have to lose so soon in his life. As he saw Allura gather herself together in collecting some of the equipment that was still scattered in front of them, he felt himself wanting to say more, but he didn’t know what to say. Yet as his eyes followed the way Allura was gradually getting herself back to making the supposedly complicated dessert, he knew there was one thing he could do and it wasn’t just standing back watching her. If only that was an option. He spoke.

“Well if it’s cinnamon rolls you are making. You’re doing it all wrong.” Swiftly transforming his bayard back to its original form and putting it behind him as he said it.

“What?” Allura turned to him, surprised at his words of sudden interest.

“What you are doing right now with that egg is wrong. You don’t crack them with a spatula like you’re swatting a fly.” He says, pointing to the spatula that was in one of her hands now. The other one holding a uncracked egg that was right below it laid about on the counter.

“Don’t tell me, you know how to make these things?” Allura asks, a bit baffled at the idea of him knowing how to make something that she had been struggling with this whole time. Or in other words, pointing out her mistakes that she was afraid to admit.

He didn’t answer. Before he knew it, his legs were moving towards her direction. Approaching her closely enough that she could not help but blush a bit underneath. Was he doing just staring? Is he gonna say how bad I am at this? I know I am, but I don’t want to just admit defeat here. Even if I look like a disaster. She thought to herself, closing her eyes. Though as Keith’s face began to look serious, he swiftly looked away as she heard a crack of an egg being heard right in front of her. Opening her eyes, she noticed an emptiness in one of hands as she glanced to see that the egg she was holding earlier wasn’t there anymore.

“Hand me the apron.” Keith says, not looking at her, arm reached out in front of her.

She did as he said, taking off the apron that was around her neck. She laid it on the palm of his hand that he held out, their hands grazing a bit as she watched him.

“Pass me the bowl.” He began cracking another egg in the same bowl that was in front of him.

She did that too. Reaching out for one of the bowls that was undamaged in her attempt at mixing prior to the flour incident.

“Show me the ingredients.”

She handed him everything she could. Keith started measuring and adding into the bowl that he was just using. He began whisking everything he put in there with such a serious expression on his face that Allura couldn’t help but watch him in awe. His hands were moving so quickly, she didn’t know how he could do it, but she knew as she watched him entranced at his movements in the kitchen that this wasn’t his first time. In other words, she knew he was skilled in combat, but in the kitchen as well? That was something she did not see coming.

“What?” His voice broke her out the pure amazed trance that lit up in her eyes as she watched him. He noticed.

“Oh! Ummm. It’s just you wearing an apron, looks so unlike you. It’s kind of...cute.” She admitted more to herself than to him, yet still swaying her eyes in a different direction as she said them. Not noticing the short silence that bestilled him as she said that one word ‘cute’.

“Well when you live on your own, you got to know how to take of yourself somehow.” He answered, seemingly unfazed by her words.

Though slowly, his face turned red, turning his head away so she couldn’t see. Yet curiosity got the best of her as she tried peering around to see his expression. Before she had a chance to see, Keith takes off his apron, stretching it out to her in her direction. Wondering if it was something she said as she looks at the apron from his hand that she just gave to him earlier.

“Here.”

“Oh you didn’t have to-” Feeling a bit guilty for him taking it off for her sake, but as to seeing him take another one out of the cupboard behind them, she washes away the thought.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to take yours. You need one too, don’t you?” Oh right. She remembered, looking at the slightly faded flour version of herself. “If you don’t plan to get yourself in a mess again I mean.” He smirks, handing the apron back to her, placing it in her hands as she took it.

“Thanks.” She says as she ties the apron around her neck, but then realizing his words at the end, speaking back. “And of course not! I plan to make them as good as--” She stopped herself before she could say anymore. As your father’s. Her eyes went down for a moment, then straight towards him as she saw him whisking in the bowl that he held like a professional chef would.

“Keith.” Her voice low yet not unheard.

“Yeah?” He glances to her for slight second as he continued mixing

“Was something on your mind?” She changes the subject as she remembers the memory of her and Krolia earlier.

“You know Keith has been worrying about something as well. Maybe if you made him something he would cheer up as well. Don’t you think so?” Krolia’s words place Allura in a questionable state, though for a hidden purpose unknowingly to the both of them.

“I suppose.” Allura says, sounding unsure of herself. So he’s been worrying about something too? I wondered what’s been on his mind? I wonder if he’ll like my cooking if I make him something. No, he’d probably reject it. Oh, Allura. Why do you keep thinking about this so much?

“Though Keith’s dad had a secret to his recipe.” Krolia continues, pulling Allura out of her worrisome thoughts once again.

“A secret?”

“Yes. The reason why his was good than anyone I’ve met while being on Earth for such a short time.” Krolia declares, the voice of her words edging back in this recess of Allura’s mind. That secret.

Staring at her as she asked, he looks away.

“No.” Keith answered, unknowingly to her that it was far from the truth. 

Not wanting to actually say the words, he thought to himself. You have been on my mind. But of course, I’m going to say that. He knew it was something she shouldn’t be worried about, pushing it back behind him, instead he got to worrying on the task at hand.

“Here.” He spoke as he passed her a bowl of ingredients, Allura placed a look of confusion on her face, wondering she was suppose to do. He continued, a softness edging inside his words as he did, “I can make the dough, while you make the cinnamon and frosting. All you have to do is mix these ingredients with this much of the measurement.” Pointing the measuring cup in his hand as he hands it to her.

“If you need any help, just let me know.” She looks at the cup in awe, understanding what she needed to do and glad to actually know she was going to do it right this time.

During that time, they stayed focused on their tasks at hand. Baring minimum to any speaking that both might of wanted to take hold of, yet deciding to peek on the other’s progress when the other wasn’t looking. But for Keith, he knew when her eyes were on him. He didn’t have to look to see if they were, he could just feel it. As did she. Though of course, they were unwilling to admit such an act.

Once they appeared to have finished their cooking tasks, Keith checks on their results, looking at her as he pushed a bit of his hair away from himself.

“You done?”

“I think so. Hope it’s correct. I did follow your directions as ordered.” She replies, holding out two bowls that was mixed with cinnamon filling in one and frosting in the other bowl.

“I didn’t order you, you know. And it looks like you did them right.” Scooping a finger from the sides of the bowls and licking them off onto his lips, a look of satisfaction emerging on his face.  

She couldn’t help but blush at his gesture towards the work she spent making sure was precise as he told her. Was it good? Did I do it right? She thought.

“Not bad.” He spoke.

She smiled. His words weren’t a lot, but they were enough.

As Keith took the bowl with the cinnamon filling in it, he had already placed perfectly neat slices on to the dough that. Allura watched him as he layered the cinnamon on top of the dough, slowly without a mistake slipping on his fingertips as he poured it.

Watching Keith spin the dough mixed cinnamon into a perfect spiral shape, Allura clapped her hands in delight, “Oh! So that’s how they’re rolls!” She tried taking one herself and do the same thing, though it ended up less than perfection. Her face, unamused.

Keith couldn’t help but laugh once again.

“You really haven’t done this before have you?” He says as he looks as if he was about to wipe a tear off his face.

“There’s a first time for everything.” She says, taking another strip of dough to try roll it to perfection or at least what looked like perfection.

As they both began rolling the dough-wrapped-in-cinnamon into the desired shape, they couldn’t help but start getting competitive over who would make the most before the dough was all gone. From then on, their rolling became an intense race of cinnamon roll madness. Both eyes in competitive mode till the last dough was gone but reaching an amount of amusement in their bodies as they did it.

Until it was done.

And the winner was….

“Hah I win!” Allura jumps up at Keith as she slams the last piece of rolled cinnamon dough onto the pan. Keith sulked, ducking his head down, admitting defeat as he noticed that Allura definitely more cinnamon rolls made than he would of thought. But what was on her pan was more than what the rolls were supposed to actually look like. Only a handful actually looked like the cinnamon-y appearance, though of course Keith was reluctant to say anything as he saw Allura’s cheerful face gleaming for her accomplishment. He let it slide...this time around.

He decided to take the newly-made batches into the oven, sliding them straight inside as he closed the oven door shut. 

“If you’d like to do the honors, winner.” Keith announced, pointing to the timer right above the oven.

“It would be my pleasure.” Allura says, spinning the dial for the countdown to cinnamon goodness to begin.

Now the waiting game was taking hold of the situation with silence taking over once more. Both of them felt exhausted from the inside, though it was only Allura whose appearance shown to be more famished than either one of them could of admit. But as they the quietness of waiting for the slowly-baked goods to reveal their true form, Keith felt his eyes drawn back to her once again. 

Her eyes were still amuck from the rolling that had some reminisce of leftover flour traced upon it. But nonetheless, he looked at her like she was the prettiest thing in the room, in the whole ship, probably in the whole universe. Wait, what? What am I thinking about? He thought to himself as he began to think of something else that was on his mind...again.

“Allura.”

“Yes-s?” She startled a bit at the sound of her name from his lips.

“Has something been bothering you?” He asks, questioning himself on the inside. If you want to ask her. Now’s the time to do it.

She was silent.

“No. Not at all. Why do you ask?” Knowing that she was saying the same words right back that he answered just earlier before. Unbelievable. He knew that.

“Because-” He paused on his words, wondering if he should say what has been on his mind for the last few days since arriving back on the ship. If he should say the words he’s been wanting to say since he saw that smile of hers. That if she was hurting, if she was lonely, he would be by her side without hesitation. Always. He looked at her in the eyes, her purple irises seemed lost at that moment, but he knew he needed to say it. He wanted to say it. What do I want? He thought to himself as he said his next words carefully.

“Because you smiled.”

Allura felt Keith’s eyes pull her in shock at the words that left his lips. She did not know how react. But she knew it to be true. She didn’t want to avoid telling what she felt, even if it was something only she can endure. It was only for a slight second that she reminded herself why she was doing this in the first place. Why she was here. To get her mind off it. Off him.

As her sky blue eyes were locked with his, at what seemed like an invisible hold that she couldn’t let go. She managed to break away, telling him in all honest.

“Sometimes I’m just afraid of forgetting.”

Forgetting? Keith thought to himself as she said the word. Thinking how he initially was coming here to forget his concerns with something to eat. The concerns that left him lying awake at night, hours on end because he didn’t know what was going on in her head. Allura continued.

“Forgetting the people that left me. Father. Mother.” She stopped for a moment, catching her breath as she did as if the memory of the place that once brought her so much joy was nothing but dust in the vast universe. “My home.” Keith stared at her, eyes unchanged as always yet a softness was emerging from his irises than he, himself could have noticed. He spoke.

“You know when my dad died. I was just a kid. Besides feeling sad. A part of myself also felt angry. I thought to myself why he would leave me? Why didn’t he come back? What am I supposed to do now? Now that he was gone. I was all alone. There was so many things going through my mind at that time and questions I still had unanswered, especially the part of myself that felt like didn’t belong just back at home, but somewhere else.”

He continued on. She listened.

Only one thought crossing her mind at the time. You are not alone. I wouldn’t let you be. Not again.

“Maybe attending the Galaxy Garrison was a part of that, I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I was going to figure out soon enough. Whether it was on my own or some other way. Meeting Shiro just became a stepping stone in being a bit better than I was. To finding who I was. Meeting the team just added on to that. The Blade. My mom. As well as meeting you.” He smiles in her direction as he says those last words with all earnest. In addition to remainder of his opened declaration of growth, he finished with these words.

“I know I won’t ever forget my dad. He’s someone who will be a part of me till I die. Someone important that raised me on his own, so if you ever worry that you’re forgetting someone. Someone important. Just remember who you are and you’ll remember them right back.”

“Wise words, Red Paladin.”

“Well they aren’t just mine, Princess.” He responds, his eyes adrift as if looking in the distance.

“To tell you the truth, I was a bit jealous of the relationship you were having with your mother. Wondering if only I had my mother back. Would she be like her? Caring. Nurturing. Attentive. But after hearing all those stories about your past. It gives me satisfaction to know you were finally able to find what you were looking for. And for that I’m happy to have you back with us.” To me. That one thought gave her the answer she needed, revealing a smile that was more than Keith could of hoped for.

“In time, I hope I won’t be forgotten either.” Her smile still unwavering and filled with content in her eyes.

One thought crossed his mind as he wanted to say more out loud for her to hear.

I would never forget you.

“Allura. I--”

DING

The sound of the oven timer hitting its designated time broke their trance in revealing their true feelings. But even as it did, they seemed more closer than they intended to realize. Shoulders touching the whole time before they were about to part by the smell of the baked dessert rolling under their noses.

Keith pulls them out from the over as the smell increased, excitement filling up both their faces and stomachs as he laid them out on the counter, waiting for a few moments for them to cool down. Once they seemed cool enough, Keith told her how to frost them. Allura did the best she could, even sticking her tongue out in determination to make it look neat as possible.

It was completed.

Taking a bite at the same time, Allura’s expression became a wide range of delight and splendor as her hard work paid off in the delicious taste that she surmounted in having more. And more. And more. And more than she realized she could eat. 

As for Keith, the moment he bit the swirled treat in his hand, a light smile shown underneath that blank yet slowly breaking exterior of his as a feeling of nostalgia washed through him with each bite.

They weren’t the same taste. He knew that. But the feeling of eating one again reminded him of that day. Seemed like so long ago. But definitely a time he wouldn’t forget. Back when he was alive.

“You know son. You shouldn’t be slouching like that just because you lost a fight. Remind me again how you got into one again?” The voice of a father, hovered over a young child. The young child was bruised in the face yet nothing serious as he sat there on the seat of the kitchen table, contemplating on a response.

“It’s nothing. They were just saying something I didn’t like.” The young boy responded. Something about mom.

“You know, the best way to not to worry about people like that is to know when it’s better to fight when it matters, not when it’s to someone’s interest. Cause if you do then you’ve already lost.”

Ruffling his head into a mess that seemed more than his face at the moment.

“And sometimes the best way to forget about it is with some good old fashioned cinnamon rolls!” A plate clattered in front of him with a huge stack of the homemade snack right in front of him on the table. The smell of fresh baked cinnamon seeping into his nostrils as if waiting to be eaten with one bite.

“Again?” His voice sounded annoyed but not rejecting the offer.

“Come on, Keith. What’s with the face? You know you enjoy them as much as I do.”

“How do you know I enjoy them so much?” He raised an eyebrow to his father, sitting up straight as he did.

“I’m your dad, of course I would know! Plus, you wouldn’t be taking one if you didn’t.” Pointing to Keith, who already had one in his hand.

“Whatever you say.” Keith retorted back, little bit of red showing in his cheeks as he was about to open his mouth eat it.

Before he could, Keith’s dad snatches the cinnamon roll right as Keith was about to bite it. Mouth wide open with emptiness, his eyes widened in shock as he looks at his dad like it was worse than getting punched in the face.

“Hey that one’s mine!” Keith shouts, trying to reach for it with his small arm as his dad held is arm up higher away from him.

“Not if the other one eats it first. You gotta be quicker than that, Keith.” Keith smirks back, accepting the challenge as his dad’s laughter began to fade out.

Back into his memories.

Keith finished up the cinnamon roll he had in his mouth and began taking another, though pondering on the late memory as a young child. He knew that memories like that won’t fade out so easily, even people as he looked towards Allura who was still enjoying the treats in her hand and into her mouth.

On the other hand as much as Allura was enjoying her delicious desserts to her heart’s content, she wondered if Keith was enjoying as much as she was. It was one thing for him to help her out in making this dish so late at night. But to know if actually liked them was another. Though as she caught a glimpse of him eating one, she saw the one thing that set her mind at ease.

A smile. 

One she knew was of pure joy and contentment. An answer that had her remembering the last bit of words that Krolia told right before they parted ways in their unprecedented conversation.

“What was it?” Allura asked, wondering her previous question. Was there really such a secret? Krolia answered, closing her eyes for just a moment as if she was thinking about the past. A time that once made her so happy that she wished she could of stayed in. 

She opened her eyes, revealing a quaint smile on her lips as she spoke, “The secret to why it was so good though wasn’t because it was good to eat. It was good because he had a reason to make it. To cheer me up. To make me happy. He was making them for me, that was actually one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Cause every time he gave them to me, he gave them with a smile.”

“Sometimes when you see a smile of someone you care for. You know it’s more than you could of hoped.”

“It was a smile of someone I loved.” Loved. The vague image of the person that’s been clouding her mind appeared for a second, though disappearing as she shook the thought out of her head before she could identify it.

“Though you look like someone who doesn’t have to worry about such things just yet. But if you do, you know where to find me.” Krolia takes off, leaving a clueless Allura to her thoughts once again.

I think I found my own secret too. But that I’ll just keep to myself..for now. The realization processing through her as if the answer was always staring right at her in the face, she began to wonder if it was the same for him. She asked.

“Keith, you sure you haven’t been bothered by anything recently?”

Keith stopped for moment, who was already cleaning some of the dishes that were in the sink that have been used.

“There was.” 

“Was?” Allura asked, tilting her head a bit to the side.

“Yeah, there was something on my mind a lot and I felt I wasn’t too sure of myself on what I saw was true but after being here, doing something that reminded me of who I was before. And what I was worried about before too. I think I finally found my answer.” It was you. The realization formed a smile on his face to look at her, who Allura in return looked back in confusion.

“Oh is that so?”

“I actually got to thank you for that.”

“Me-e. I don’t think I did much, but I’m glad to know you are feeling better than before. You shouldn’t lose that look on your face. It’s more to my liking, I’d say.” What look? He thought, unaware of the smile that lifted her spirits. Yet there wasn’t much that needed to be said after that as both their answers were just within reach. But this time, they both knew it. 

As they both finished cleaning up the kitchen area, trying to make it as spotless as possible that no one would have known of their messy presence. Allura thought she might want to save the remainder of the the cinnamon rolls for the paladins when they finally awoke, but then again they would of probably wondered how she them, deciding to keep the delicious snacks to herself for now.

“I just wanted to say my thanks in helping me out with this. I couldn’t have done this without your help.” Allura says, turning to Keith who looked about done with cleaning the part of the area he was in.

“It’s no problem.” He says to her as he stands in front of her, very closely without warning. Though he pulls himself back just as his face was in close proximity of their noses touching, “If I’m ever in the mood for a midnight snack, I’ll let you know.” Keith says as he walks out the doorway, taking a piece of cinnamon roll with him. “Though with your cooking habits, I think I’ll know sooner than I can sleep.” Waving a hand goodbye behind him to her as he walked out. Noticing that emptiness again at her fingertips, she shouts.

“Hey! That was--” 

The doors closed shut. Her voice barely coming out as she replied.

“Mine.”

Leaving a blank Allura, blushing more than her heart could take. This time, she definitely knew why.  

As the night may have ended, it was just the beginning for both of them.

--------Mini Bonus Epilogue-----

The steps of the red paladin reached back to his room as he sat back onto his bed. He sighed yet giving off a smile that revealed the result of his late night escapade into the kitchen. Undetected by anyone on the ship. Except one.

“How were the cinnamon rolls?” A voice rang in his ears right behind him.

“Not as good as Dad’s but just the same feeling.” He answered without question. Wait a second. “You told her didn’t you?” He questioned her as he turned his body around to see Krolia lying comfortably on the same bed next to him, the same way she looked when he left.

“What do you mean? I just happen to say some things and she listened. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Her words sounding prepared as if she was waiting for this to happen.

“Right...” His voiced out slowly, unconvinced.

“Jeez, Keith. If you want to ask the girl out, you got to ask her. Not think about her till your stomach growls.”

He shrugged at her words, shifting himself on his backside as his eyes stared up onto the ceiling.

“Baking is good start though.” Krolia spoke. Keith closed his eyes. 

“Yeah. It’s a start.” He muttered to himself as his eyes finally drifted off into slumber.

“Next time, though you might want to be more quieter in doing so. I think the whole ship might of heard your boisterous laughter.” Krolia slips those words out, just as one last smile appeared on her face for the remainder of the night, along with the wide eyes of Keith’s who were taken aback by her sudden words that made them open. At this point, sleep wasn’t on Keith’s side tonight.

In the end, maybe those doors weren’t so soundproof after all. Or perhaps, Krolia’s ears were just too well enhanced-in-hearing to not eavesdrop on her son’s alone time with the princess.

Either way, it was a night they all wouldn’t forget.

OMG. It took me some time but i finished!!!!!! gosh you do not know how happy this makes me. finally finishing a work that only took me bout a week to do, that’s legit writer goals, pat on the back for me! Especially it being Kallura, like HECK YESS, they deserve each other! lol I thank everyone who have enjoyed this story as much as I did! and it you’re ever interest in seeing more of my writing works in the future. Just give me a follow! This one thing has given me a lot of hope in my writing capabilities again and I def plan to do more in the future! maybe do an actual full voltron fic. You never know? lol. Well hope to hear you all thoughts on this last piece of this fun story. Till next time!

[glassbangtan]

Anniversary Gift {Kim Namjoon}

Words: 2702

  Notes: I felt like writing fluff, and I love Namjoon. So here you go.

  Summary: You want to do something nice for Namjoon on your third anniversary with him. You forget the part where you’re just as much of a clutz as he is, meaning making pancakes isn’t as simple as everybody says it is.

   Warning: Floooooof.

   Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

   Oftentimes, people wondered what made you and Namjoon so compatible. The two most loved up people in the room – what made you two like each other so much, to the point where you planned on spending the rest of your life with each other?

   For a long time, it was a mystery even to the two of you. You loved everything about him; his song writing skills, his perfect laugh that he would always try to cover up with his hand, his dimples which popped even at the slightest quirk of his lips. Maybe it was the way he always managed to call you at least once a day when he was away on tour, or send you the odd ‘Good morning’ tweet, even when your time zones were messed up. You would receive it in the middle of the day, and yet it still meant the world to you.

   Other times you would think it was because of his intelligence. The way he spoke English, and the way he translated for the other boys as you watched on in complete admiration of the man you were so happy to call yours.

   But it was days like this where the true answer to the complicated question of why really showed through, because it was your anniversary.

   Three years together was a long time. Three years of him going on random tours, three years of long distance, three years of craving the other person beyond any other feeling in the world – but at the same time, it was three years of absolute bliss that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

   For the first time in three years, Namjoon and you were actually spending your anniversary together. He had cleared his schedule, and you yours, to simply spend the day together. Whether it meant sleeping in each others arms for the entire day or going out and getting completely wasted – it didn’t matter to you. As long as Namjoon was with you, it would be worth it.

   All week, you and Yoongi had been planning the surprise anniversary breakfast that you had tried so hard to organise on your own. Yoongi had found you at three am, in the dorms one day with your head in your hands as you ran through a seemingly endless list of breakfast recipes, all of which were either too hard or far too simple for you to even think of making up. Thus the reason Yoongi was now standing beside you, on the morning of your and Namjoon’s third anniversary, pondering over a printed out list of ingredients and a method which haunted you.

   “You know,” Yoongi says after a moments silence. “Maybe we should just order food.”

   You grunt, snatching the page out of his hand and looking over it yourself. Chocolate chip pancakes didn’t seem like that big of a deal to make – your mother used to make them for you almost every morning with barely even a complaint – but you weren’t your mother, and you certainly weren’t a chef.

   In fact, the answer to the previous question as to why you and Namjoon loved each other so much, was most likely because the two of you were so alike in the fact that neither of you could do anything without messing it up at least once first.

   “What is so difficult about putting chocolate chips inside of pancake batter?” you ask, keeping your voice low as to not wake Namjoon.

   Yoongi shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that difficult. It’s the fact that it’s you cooking with me that is gonna mess it up.”

   “Not if you don’t mess around.”

   “Also if you don’t trip over your two left feet, just like you always do.” You roll your eyes and shove Yoongi with your shoulder, before setting the recipe down and getting to work. It couldn’t be that difficult, surely. You knew how to make pancake batter, and the only added ingredient was a few chocolate chips popped into each pancake you planned to make.

   Namjoon would enjoy it. As you bobbed around the kitchen, dodging Yoongi who had decided to put on an impromptu rap show in the middle of the kitchen, you can’t help but grin at the thought of Namjoon coming down to see the work you had put in. For months you had been telling him you wanted to do something special for him, pay him back for the work he had been doing all this time, but he had always insisted that it wasn’t that big of a problem for him if your anniversary was just spent inside the house. As long as you two were together, nothing could really go wrong.

   But the thought of not doing anything plagued you like you couldn’t believe. The least you could do, you thought, was make him breakfast. If you could just get past that small task, that would be okay.

   “I really don’t trust you lighting the oven,” Yoongi says when you press the nobs down on the hob to get it to light. You ignore him, waiting for the flames to stay put. Surprisingly, you get it on the first try. Off to a good start.

   And so you begin with everything. Making the pancake batter, pouring it into the pan, adding the chocolate chips and soon, everything was cooking. It was all working out well so far, and you couldn’t help but grin at your own work.

   Yoongi watched you with a look of amusement on his face, silently giggling that high pitched giggle he always had in the morning. You look at him, raising a brow in question.

   “You’re so proud of yourself for making pancakes,” he comments.

   “I’ve never made chocolate chip pancakes before.”

    “All you did was add chocolate chips to pancake batter.”

   You glare. “Please stop underestimating my hard work. This took guts.”

    Yoongi scoffs and nods, pushing himself off of the counter. “So now what?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Well, this isn’t it, is it? A few pancakes and a good morning kiss?”

   You blank, staring at the rapper as if he had just slapped you in the face. “I got him some Ryan merch-” You cut yourself off, understanding just how strange you sound. Three years, and the most you could do was make some chocolate chip pancakes.

   Three years of being treated like a princess, and the most you could do for the man who blessed you was give him some chocolate chip pancakes?

   “Son of a bitch,” you hiss to nobody in particular. Yoongi raises a brow, looking at you as you walk towards the hob and take another utensil out of the bottom drawer. “Help me make a cake.”

   Yoongi’s eyes widen, him spluttering on air. “Wait, what?”

   “A cake, Yoongi!” you exclaim, clicking your fingers in his direction. “Come on. We haven’t got long before Namjoon wakes up.”

   “Y/N, I don’t think this is a good-”

   “How do you make cake batter? Does it need to be prepacked?” You’re already zooming around the relatively sizeable kitchen, dragging out every utensil and tool which looks like it could be helpful in cake baking. You had never before baked a cake by yourself – people often told you it wasn’t a good idea due to your clumsiness – but there was a first for everything, and today you were determined to try.

   Yoongi doesn’t argue as he  pulls up the simplest cake recipe he can find. The two of you read through the ingredients together, silently cursing when you realise that you have no icing to top off the master piece which you were sure you were about to produce.

   “I’ll go get some,” Yoongi declares, pulling his keys off of the key holder and tugging his coat on over his shoulders. “Don’t set anything on fire, or so help me God-”

   “Hurry up, Min Yoongi!”

   He yells his goodbye over his shoulder before the door closes behind him, leaving you alone with the cooking goods and the bubbling sensation of anxiety which is rising in the pit of your stomach with every passing second.

   Truth was, you didn’t know when the pancakes were meant to be done. For a few moments you just sit and watch them, gazing down at the bubbling mix as you try to time the moment they could possibly be edible – but it never seems right. You watch the corners go brown, the batter becoming thinner and thinner as the chocolate chips melt into it.

   “Flip it,” you outwardly tell yourself. You pull up the sleeves of your fluffy pyjama shirt and grab the handle of the pan. Yoongi had told you not to do anything, but you could hardly just let them burn, right?

   You think of all the movies you had seen before, how they had flipped the pancakes with so much grace and without the need of a spatula. You debate on using one, go against it and instead simply turn your body to face the wider area of the kitchen to give you more room. Silently counting down from three, you jolt your arms upwards, sending the barely cooked pancake batter through the air.

   You yelp when the tiny remnants of the uncooked batter come splattering down on your exposed skin, making a burning sensation quickly travel up the length of your arms. Tears blur your vision as you drop the pan with a bang which immediately makes you cringe at the volume of it – there was no way Namjoon hadn’t heard that.

    You find yourself following it to the floor, your knees buckling beneath you as you scrub at the burn makes which now dot your skin – there only minor, barely noticeable against your tanned complexion, but they still hurt like hell.

    You curse to yourself, curling up in a ball against the kitchen cupboards as you cradle your burning arm in your other hand. You’re too worked up in your own pain to notice the fact that you had just thrown a towel in the air, and it had landed on the now open flames of the hob.

   It’s the sound of the fire alarm which makes you realise. Your eyes widen, a yell of panic escaping your throat as you bound up, the pain suddenly ignored and replaced with a thick layer of panic, which you don’t make subtle with your yells and cries for assistance.

   Because, sure enough, the towel is now in flames and is spreading pretty quickly across the counter top.

   “Y/N? Y/N, get away from that!” you hear Namjoon yell behind you before arms are grabbing your waist and hauling you behind the counter. You cover your face, barely able to watch the mess you had created as Namjoon throws water over the minor fire, patting it out with another towel at the same time.

   Once the sound of flames has died down, you look at Namjoon through the cracks in your fingers. He’s shirtless this morning, wearing nothing more than plaid pyjama bottoms which hang low on his waist. His pink hair is a mess, if you can even call it that. Namjoon had always managed to make bed head look extremely attractive.

   “Aish,” Namjoon finally hisses, turning to look at you with wide eyes. You search his arms for any sign of damage, but nothing shows up. He had simply put the fire out and gotten on with it. “What are you doing?”

   You grit your teeth, lowering your hands to reveal a large, rectangular smile. “I was – uh – making breakfast?”

   Namjoon raises a brow. “Breakfast?”

   “For you. And me. And maybe Yoongi, if he hadn’t left before you got up.”

   “Yoongi was here?”

   “Yoongi was helping me make breakfast,” you reply, and Namjoon starts to slowly smile, dimples popping. “He was making sure I didn’t set fire to the house.”

   “He did a good job.”    “He went to get icing,” you explain, trying your hardest to fight your way out of this minor predicament. “If you could just do me a favour and go back to bed so we can pretend this never happened, that would be great.”

   Namjoon chuckles, shyly ducking his head down as he does so. You pout, watching him as he approaches you with his arms open wide, beckoning you in for a hug which was purely meant for comfort. He knew you had tried hard. He also knew how long you had wanted to do something for him, though he didn’t understand why. Everything you did was a gift for him, and he never wanted you to go out of your comfort zone just to impress him.

    You fall hostage into his arms, letting your head rest underneath his chin as a groan of annoyance escapes your lips. Annoyance at your lack of cooking skills, annoyance at the fact that the world, once again, had to go against you even though you had planned this so well.

   Namjoon rests his chin on the top of your head, pressing a firm kiss to your hair. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

   “Of course I do.” The answer is simple. He never failed to show you just how much he loved you. “I love you, too.”

   “Did you get hurt?” he asks. “The flames didn’t touch you, did they?”

   “Oh, no,” you reply, pulling away but you keep your arms on his waist as his stay limp on your shoulders. “I was already on the floor from being burned by the pancakes I tried to flip.”

   Namjoon closes his eyes, that perfect smile reappearing on his face. “I literally can’t leave you alone for two seconds without you injuring yourself. Let’s see the burns.”

   You pull away and show him your arms, letting him drag you over to the tap. He takes great precaution in rubbing the cold water into your skin, the feeling soothing against the previously blistering burns you had suffered.

    “Happy anniversary,” you mutter. Namjoon grins.

   “It’s off to a great start.”

   “You don’t have to flatter me. I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I?”

   Namjoon raises a brow, his fingers still rubbing small circles into your arm as he leans over the counter and presses a chaste and morning kiss to your lips. It shocks you for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for you to melt into the kind gesture.

    He pulls away all too soon, a smile still playing on his features. “Honestly, you just being here with me makes it perfect. The best gift you have ever given me is three years with the love of my life. You don’t need to make me gormet breakfasts in bed or buy me expensive gifts – just be there. That’s all I need.”

   You open your mouth to reply, a warm feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach that only Namjoon could ever pull out of you. With his philosophical reasonings behind every event in life to the way he rapped with so much passion, to the way he held your hand, to the way he just did anything. He always managed to make you feel some kind of way that you were almost embarrassed to admit.

    But no words come out before the front door is opening, Yoongi yelling as he walks through it with multiple bags of cake-toppers and icing.

   “For gods sake, Y/N, you can smell the smoke in the god damn hallway! What did you -” The Daegu boy stops in his tracks when he sees you and Namjoon standing by the sink, your arm submerged in cold water.

   He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m leaving. Here’s your cake stuff.” With one final wave, Yoongi throws the grocery bags on the sofa and turns to leave. He halts in the doorway, turns to look at the two of you over his shoulder, before he says, “I can see why you two fit so well together. You’re both hopeless.”

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 1, Part 1: Me vs. the grocery store

Hi again. It was really nice to hear from some of my friends and family in response to my post last night! I’m really excited to know that some people are down to read my long-ass posts about plants. I’ve also had several people offer me cookbook suggestions or even offer to have me plunder their own stash. Thanks for being my enablers, guys! (No seriously, thank you, I love you all sm.) Also, I can now reveal that my grandma texted me this morning to confirm she did indeed read my first post to its end. She’s the best!!!! This blog is rapidly evolving into a dual-purpose food/my grandma fan page and I can’t be sorry for it. 

So it’s Friday afternoon as I write this but the day I’ll be writing about is actually Wednesday. Can you tell it took me a little while to get going with the actual blogging part of this project? Anywho, I woke up Wednesday and after taking some time to wake up with a coffee, I flipped open my shiny new How Not to Die cookbook to the pages with the 2-week meal plan. I scanned the lists of recipes, already nervous. There were so many listed for every single day. I’m used to preparing dinner each night and eating leftovers for my lunches. For years my tried-and-true breakfast almost every single day has been two hard-boiled eggs and a piece of toast. So I’m really only used to having to prepare a fully involved meal once a day. You wanted to do this, I reminded myself. You have the summer off. You have the time! Trying to calm my nerves, I opened up the notes app on my laptop and began typing the names of the suggested recipes. There are no page numbers referenced on the meal plan pages, which would have made things a lot easier, just sayin’, Dr. Greger! I found the recipes and opened the grocery list Google Doc I’ve shared with my husband since we moved in together. I started typing up a shopping list. 

This was more than 48 hours ago at this point, but luckily I did stop to write down some initial thoughts. I shall share them with you now, verbatim: 

How the f@#! am I going to buy everything we need for all this? How will it fit in my fridge? Will I spend literally all day prepping all of this? Am I even going to be able to find everything I need for these recipes? 

...

16 recipes compared to my normal 4, MAYBE 5. Eating this way is obviously the vanity project of the wealthy wtf

...

It’s only two weeks. I can spend 2374623645 dollars on food for just half a month right? right?? It’s normal to spend money on hobbies? Gah

...

What the hell is date sugar?

...

I am definitely using vanilla extract instead of buying a giant vanilla bean Fresh turmeric? Where would even sell that? Ground sounds just fine to me

I noted that I began this process at 8:55. At 9:21 I wrote:

I give up… because I can already tell I’m going to be buying WAY too much produce to fit into my crisper drawer. The original plan had been to stock up enough stuff to carry me through until Monday but I can see now that’s just not going to be realistic at all. I’ll stock up on enough stuff to get me through to Friday night. I don’t want to grocery shop on the weekend if I can help it. I’ll just go again on Friday. Then I’ll probably have to go again on Monday, maybe Tuesday if I’m lucky. That’ll be three grocery store stock-ups in one week. I wanted a hobby, didn’t I?? Time to go back and redo my list to only reflect recipes for the next three days then.

I put a break in my recipes list. Alright. That brings me from 16 recipes to 8. Feels much more manageable. I look at the huge list of ingredients I amassed on my Google doc and decide it’d be easier to just delete it and restart from scratch than go through and try to remember what I now do and don’t need. 9:30.

9:45 - done. Still a LONG list. This is only for 2 days plus a dinner. But to be fair I did include stuff for a couple of desserts.

I’m a tad concerned by how none of these recipes call for ANY salt.

I was more than a tad concerned, actually. But I had my mission lined out. It was time to head to Big Y. 

Of the common local grocery store chains in Connecticut, Big Y is probably the nicest one. My husband and I used to frequent Stop & Shop but we stopped because the produce kind of sucked and anyhow the set-up of Big Y is a lot more appealing. I drove on over to the Ellington Big Y, hopeful that I’d be able to find the majority of the items I needed, but also aware that I’d probably end up at Whole Foods later that day. 

I’d been so focused on getting together my massive shopping list and hustling out to the store that I hadn’t attended to my basic personal needs with as much care as usual. I realized two things almost immediately as I crossed the parking lot: I kinda had to pee, and I was also sort of thirsty/hungry. Should I get a lemonade or something from the cafe? I wondered briefly then decided against it. I’d be fine til I got home, surely. 

Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in the produce section. I bagged up two heads of lettuce and an even bigger head of red kale. I bought the biggest container of baby spinach they had and then also the biggest bag of regular spinach. Cilantro and parsley. Scallions. And that was just from the greens section! I was already tired by the time I got to the natural foods section, and I had only shopped for stuff whose location I already knew. 

I spent some time figuring out which seeds/nuts I needed that Big Y sold by the weight. It’s a really convenient and cool system, except the stupid sticker-printing machine is sort of finicky. I must have spent a solid ten minutes before I had the correct amount of almonds, cashews, pumpkin seeds, etc. Okay. Now I needed to look for some stuff that I genuinely had no idea where exactly it might be. I knew they likely were somewhere in this natural foods section, I just didn’t know where. Stuff like hemp hearts and nutritional yeast (sounded gross but it was called for in quite a few recipes). I found them eventually. Cool. Now I needed canned tomatoes and beans, but Dr. Gregor really wanted me to be sure I bought cans without a BPA liner. Seriously? Was that really going to be the thing that would make or break if I lived to see 100? But I didn’t want to half-ass the Dr. Gregor lifestyle. It was only for two weeks, after all. After way too much time studying the shelves of tomatoes and beans, I ended up with two cans of diced tomato that cost twice as much as the brand I normally purchased... and the same exact generic brand of beans I normally went for, because none of the beans at Big Y seemed to be BPA free. Whatever. I was hungrier and grumpier by the minute. I wanted to stuff something into my mouth full of sugar and gluten and whatever other chemicals were out to kill me, stat. Almost done. Just had to find frozen okra (vegan gumbo, y’all! Stay tuned), and also miso. I wasn’t too worried about the miso. Big Y has a decent Asian foods aisle... one that I paced up and down at least four times before accepting that they didn’t seem to have miso. They also didn’t have date sugar, a key ingredient to a no-bake brownies recipe I wanted to try. I have a major sweet tooth (can you tell?) and the idea of two weeks without chocolate bars or ice cream was something I refused to entertain without some sort of chocolate dessert option. Okay. No miso, no date sugar. I also hadn’t been able to find “whole wheat tortillas - no salt added” anywhere in the store. So, I’d be going to Whole Foods. I had figured as much. 

I checked out with a whopper of a bill and tried not to die too much inside at the fact that this was only two and a half day’s worth of groceries. After all, I had needed to stock up on several crunchy hippie type pantry items I hadn’t already owned. Thank god I already had a pretty sizable spice collection or my bill would have been even higher. I tried not to think of how this wasn’t even everything on my list. Not only did I still need to go to Whole Foods, but I needed to go to the farm stand. 

Shout-out to Johnny Appleseed’s Farm in Ellington. Sam and I love them, and they love us back! Okay, they love Sam back because he told them once that he had gone onto Google and fixed an incorrect listing stating they were permanently closed. They really love Sam for that. They have no idea who I am unless I walk in with him. But that’s okay. Every late July through October, Sam and I buy as much of our produce as possible from Johnny Appleseed’s. I stopped over there to load up on tomatoes, onions, peppers, carrots, and an ungodly amount of zucchini. The woman ringing me out seemed amused. “Lots of squash,” she commented. “What’re you cooking?” I stared at her, trying to remember. The recipe planning I’d done only a couple hours ago already seemed such a blur. “Zoodles,” I managed finally. “You know, like when you try to pretend you’re eating pasta but it’s actually vegetables?” She chuckled and nodded. “You make your own sauce from scratch too?” “Usually,” I told her, feeling a sudden pang of longing for a nice meaty bolognese. Wow, I really wasn’t going to be cut out for this meatless life for long. I told her goodbye and got into my car. It was sweltering outside and 10x worse inside my black interior car. I now definitely needed to pee and I was starving. Home couldn’t come fast enough. 

Of course, before I could eat my lunch I had to go through the battle of trying to fit all of this produce into my refrigerator. Even with the clearing out of the usual cartons of eggs and older produce that I’d tossed earlier that morning, it was definitely a game of Tetris trying to fit all of the extremely perishable items I’d just purchased into my fridge. I didn’t even entertain the thought of trying to fit all the vegetables in the crisper. Just to fit them in the fridge itself was an accomplishment. Thank god I hadn’t been quite stupid enough to try to buy enough groceries to last us through Monday. Dear lord, I was really going to have to go back in two days and do this again? You chose this, you chose this I sang to myself repeatedly in my head as I grabbed the container of my last non-vegan meal for two weeks: zucchini turkey meatballs, romano cheese, and marinara sauce over spaghetti. It was damned good. This is still healthy, isn’t it? Do I definitely have to give up cheese, Dr. Gregor? 

Now came the time for my final real dessert of the next two weeks. Something I end up binging on far too often when Sam leaves me at home unsupervised for too long: Aurora honey nut granola with chocolate chips mixed in. It’s so good!!! And I definitely went especially overboard that day knowing it was my last sugar binge for awhile. 

Alright. It was time to head to Whole Foods. The closest one to me is in Glastonbury and a solid 25 minute drive away. The air felt heavy and oppressive as I headed out into the heat. Ominous dark clouds hung low in the sky. I could feel the nasty air pressure in the depths of my sinuses. Blah. Almost done, I told myself. The parking lot at Whole Foods was mobbed. Why are so many people out on a random Wednesday afternoon, I grumped to myself as I narrowly avoided running over a perfectly nice young family (sorry, strangers!!) and found myself a spot. I walked inside and immediately started rubbing my arms up and down. It was freezing. One thing I love about Big Y is that they keep a lot of their refrigerated items behind doors. I forget how cold other grocery stores are. 

I don’t go to Whole Foods very often. I knew where the ethnic condiments were but had no clue where I might find “whole wheat tortillas, no salt added.” I wandered the entire length of the store twice over and finally found a small selection. They really didn’t have much to offer in the way of wraps. Too many carbs for the Whole Foods shopping crowd, I guess? I settled for normal whole wheat tortillas that did indeed have salt as an ingredient. What do you want me to do, Dr. Gregor? I’m only one person. I at least then found the date sugar no problem. Okay. Cool. Only the miso left. 

I wandered into the Asian condiments aisle... and essentially repeated the same pacing act I’d done at Big Y, except I went back and forth even more times because I had a hard time processing that Whole Foods wouldn’t have what I needed. I mean, they’ve got some weird stuff there! They have like 5 different brands of ghee! Miso sounded like such a basic Asian condiment to me. We’ve all heard of miso soup, no? But it was nowhere to be found. Ugh. Fine. I’ll go to the Asian market in East Hartford. It’s not that far from here anyways, I tried to reassure myself. I could feel a sugar crash hitting my bloodstream. I wanted a juicebox and a nap. 

I checked out and made my way to Je Mart. I wandered up and down their aisles and couldn’t seem to find miso there either. It finally occurred to me that I was obviously missing something here. Like I really should have done at Big Y in the first place, I pulled out my phone and Googled “Where do I buy miso in the store?” Within 5 seconds I realized I’d been looking in the wrong spots of the stores the entire time. Miso isn’t a bottled or jarred condiment like Sriracha or curry paste. It’s actually sold in plastic tubs in the refrigerated section. Look near the tofu, the infinite wisdom of the Internet advised. I turned around and what do you know, literally right behind me was the refrigerated section with the tofu. And within five seconds I spotted it: a tub of miso!!! I grabbed at it ecstatically and scanned the label. Was this the white miso that Dr. Gregor had specifically demanded? It didn’t specify, but it looked pale enough for me. And it was only $5 for a pretty decent sized tub. I handed my money gleefully to the cashier and went on my way. Finally. 

I got home and put away my new purchases. It was about 2:20pm and I was beyond exhausted. I really shouldn’t have eaten that much granola, I thought morosely as I flopped onto the couch. I wanted to rewatch Forks Over Knives (it’s on Netflix!). If I started now it would end right around 4, a good time to start trying to actually prepare some of the meals I’d worked so hard all the day just to shop for. 

I’m not saying that I napped for the entire documentary because I definitely didn’t. I remember some parts of it. But can I guarantee I didn’t nap at all? No, no I cannot. 

This was another long post, so obviously I’m going to need to give us all a break and stop here before going on to Part 2, in which I’ll finally talk about cooking and eating these recipes. These first couple of posts have really just been a lot of exposition, I promise I’m going to get to the meat of the plot soon! (pun intended) 

For now, here’s a picture of the miso I drove all over the state searching for before finally acquiring for the very reasonable price of $5 (fyi - Big Y does have miso but it’s red miso and it’s $7 so I guess all’s well that ends well): 

[artistic-nacho-blog]

Sanders Sides One-Shot

The sentence prompt is: It seemed like a really good idea yesterday.

Trigger warnings: Cursing, being cornered, panic, anxiety(ofc),negative thoughts, sick family members, and family members walking out.

Relationship: There is no actual relationship, but it hints at prinxiety, logicality, and some slight anxceit, but nothing major.

A/N: So, this was honestly supposed to end in a completely different way! Like, Deceit was not even going to appear in this one... I appreciate constructive criticism, and if there are any other warnings I should add, please let me know.

Word Count:4,137 (Not too shabby)

If you guys want a second part, fill free to tell me, I was originally supposed to end this on a bad note, but yolo I’ll probably end up doing it anyways cuz it’s not like I even finished the actual sentence.

An annoying beeping sound jars Virgil from his less than peaceful night’s rest. Turning over, he slaps his hand on his alarm clock a few times, making sure to turn off his alarm. He peels his eyes open slowly, looking at the time.

05:30

He groaned. Why did he think it would be a good idea to leave showering in the morning? Virgil pushes himself out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. If he woke his dad up, it would be the end for him.

‘After all, your good ol’ dad is tired only because of you.’

He floundered over to his closest, pulling out the first clothing options he could find because it’s not like matching mattered when you wear all black. Unless your blacks end up not matching, then you are just screwed.

Once Virgil finished his shower, he put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a black Evanescence shirt, and his signature black hoodie. He checked his hair once more, making sure his bangs were evenly spaced apart, before exiting his bathroom.

Virgil walked down the stairs, the smell of pancakes dulling his senses. He looked to his right, where his dad was cooking chocolate chip pancakes.

“Dad, should you really be cooking today.” He didn’t need to get up, he could have made a hot pocket or something.

“Do you not appreciate my signature pancakes anymore? And here I thought you would like the surprise ingredient,” his dad leaned heavily on the counter, over exaggerating his movements in the process.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Oh my god dad, don’t be so dramatic.”

“But I’m not being dramatic!”

“Sure you’re not.”

Heaving a laugh, his father turned back to the task at hand, expertly flipping a pancake onto the plate. Virgil clapped, making sure to let out a quiet whoop in the midst of cheering.

“What is going on here?”

Both males freeze and slowly turned around. Virgil’s mother looked them over with a hardened gaze, her eyes zeroing in on Virgil,

“I thought I told you two,” she started out, both of them looking down guiltily at her staccato like words, “No cooking chocolate chip pancake without me! How could you do this Brent? I trusted our secret mix with you!” She then grinned mischievously at the two. Her brown eyes lighting up,

“’Guess I’ll need to eat them all, that way our recipe will not get out in the open.”

“Mom, no!”

“Love, ca-we can work this out, think about what you’re about to attempt to do!”

She chuckled, “Attempt? Honey, I’m going to succeed!” She took off, running full speed, laughing evilly, in an attempt to grab the pancakes on the platter. Brent screeched something about the “sharing is caring rule” before grabbing the platter and taking off in a random direction.

Virgil chuckled at his parent’s antics. Waltzing up to the stove and flipping a pancake currently on the pan. He watched in amusement as his parents took turns chasing each other, his mother taking a bite of a pancake each time she got her hands on the platter. How is he this lucky to have such amazing parents?

‘More like how did such amazing parents have you.’

He quickly flipped his pancake onto a plate, today was not the day to deal with this.

Virgil and his parents laughed at the table at the clever joke his father told. Who knew not all dad jokes are bad jokes? He took one last bite of his pancake, ultimately eating the last pancake standing.

Virgil checked his phone screen, his eyes widening,

“Crap!”

His parents flinched. Brent caught on quickly, looking at the clock and shaking his head as he darted upstairs and into his office. His mother on the other hand,

“What? What is it? Did you hurt yourself? Too many pancakes?”

Virgil pointed to his screen when it lit up again, showing his mother the time,

6:53.

He glared at his phone screen, hissing. “I’m going to miss my bus.”

Virgil headed for the stairs. “I gotta get my stuff mom! I’ll be right back!” Diving into his closet, he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He darted across the room, grabbing his headphones, stuffing them into his bag, along with yesterday’s homework. Multiple craps and shits were whispered in under a minute.

His father’s footsteps thundered down the hallway, he barged through his door,

“Normally I would knock, but we are on a time limit today, Virge.”

“It’s fine, do you have his present?”

“I do!”

“Fantastic.”

“Was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Dad.”

“Sorry.”

Brent placed a swift kiss onto his forehead whispering words of encouragement as Virgil practically flew down the stairs.

Virgil ran into the kitchen, placing a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

“Bye mom, I love you!” He called out as he started to close the door. His mom cautioned him about crossing the road, with him promising to be safe, he finally left his house.

Running is so not his thing. Why did he have to miss his bus? He couldn’t be sweaty when he gave his crush their gift, that’s just a disaster waiting to happen.

Multiple thoughts overtook his mind as he ran to his school. Well, it was more like jogging, but still, it was running to him. Don’t judge! Virgil saw the school in the distance, he decided he was close enough to walk now, given that he still had around twenty minutes before the tardy bell would ring.

How was he going to give his crush their present? He knew he couldn’t just walk up to him and go,

“Hey, I know I stopped talking to you and my group of friends for two months and counting, but that reason was because I completely and utterly fell in love with you, but I am too much of an idiot to come to terms with that, so I ducked out.”

Or even worse,

“You know all those times I was a dick to you? Yeah, those. It was because you were being too cute in the moment for me to comprehend, so I usually ended up storming away or fighting you. So, sorry ‘boutcha! But hey! Look at this ring I bought that my father and I busted our asses to buy for you, cool huh?”

Fat chance of that working out.

He could always leave it in his locker anonymously, but that wouldn’t solve anything.

He looked down at the gift in his hands, a dull gold ring sat in the middle of his pale hand, the ring had an intricate flower design, as well as a sword’s hilt on the underside of the ring. His father worked overtime and graveyard shifts to help pay for the pricey antique.

He gave it another once over before shoving it in his pocket, Roman would never even like this! How stupid was he? Thinking this was a good idea. Virgil looked up just in time from missing a light pole. He briskly walked around the pole, putting his headphones on and selecting shuffle. He smiled when his favorite band started to play.

Virgil sighed as he pushed open the high school’s main doors. Oh well, he can always keep it for himself, yeah his fingers maybe too thin for the ring to fit, but rings on necklaces are popular right now, so it won’t seem out of the ordinary to randomly walk into school with a ring on his neck. Besides, it’s not like anyone would notice, he doesn’t have friends anymore.

He made his way to the gym, sitting on the far end, away from everyone’s too loud conversations. Why do they need to practically shout when they are so close together?

Virgil stole a few glances to his old posse of friends. Logan seemed like he was faring well, his tie matched Patton’s shirt, which is pretty cute he guessed. Patton must have told everyone a joke, because when he looked at Roman, his eyes lit up with humor. He burst out laughing, and everyone around him was quick to join.

‘Look how happy he is without you.’

Virgil sighed, closing his eyes in a meek attempt to block out that thought. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring directly into Roman’s hazel hues. Gasping softly, he lowered his gaze at his phone, opening Tumblr and flicking through it, not really paying attention to what he saw on the screen.

God he’s such an idiot! He stared too long. The others must think he’s an absolute freak! Maybe if he apologized for the fight he had with them, they would take him back?

‘You’re pitiful if you actually think that would work, they must hate you.’

He swiftly looked up to see his past partners in crime chatting away.

‘Knew it.’

‘Good,’ he thought bitterly, ‘it’s better this way.’

A loud buzzing jarred him from his thoughts, only calming down once he realized it was just the bell.

He jostled his hand as he made his way down the busy hall. He kept rubbing the ring, treating it like a fidget cube. He cringed when one of his less favored song started to play. He took his hand out of his pocket, switching to a new song.

Heading to his first class, mythology, was a blur. He was deep in thought, thinking of all the different scenarios that his anxious mind could phantom.

It took thirty full minutes for him to realize. His teacher Ms. Marshal was talking about today’s lesson, unmindfulness and forgetfulness.

Ms. Marshal basically skipped to the board after calling role. “Now that we have covered Hades, we will get into the five rivers of Hades.” Virgil looked on, only paying attention part time, “We are going to start with my favorite one, Ameles potamos, which translates river of unmindfulness.”

Virgil looked out the window, reaching into his pocket to thumb his ring, he dug around in his pocket for a moment before realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His ring is not there.

Good.Fucking.Job.

His breathing picked up as he frantically searched through his belongings, covering every inch. He searched the ground following the path he walked into his desk. Nothing.

His ring that his father worked double the amount for, all those part time jobs over the summer for nothing. He can’t help but pray to whatever’s out there. Let this be a realistic dream, a nightmare, he passed out. Hell, anything is better than what’s happening to him right now.

He can barely breathe, this wasn’t happening. It was not happening!

He flinched when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see his petite teacher gazing at him with concern. He looked around to see other students working, thankfully only one or two were watching his mental break down.

Ms. Marshal whisper to him, asking something, but it was too fuzzy for him to hear,

‘You can’t even listen properly.’

He gasped out a soft “What?”

“Do you need to go outside for a moment?” Virgil softly nodded, collecting his thoughts best he can when she motioned to the classroom door. He crept quietly out the door, his teacher in tow.

Once he was outside his teacher asked him a few questions,

“Are you okay?” Nod.

“Do you need to leave?” He shook his head.

“Do you need to be alone for a moment?” Another nod.

She gave him a stiff nod, sending him one more glance before entering the classroom once again, leaving a statement hanging in the air, “If you need me to send a friend out, I will, so let me know.”

‘Ha, what friends?’

The door made a click sound, notifying him that it closed. Past his tears, he can make out two shaking hands. He slid to the floor, wondering what the hell he did to deserve this. After a few minutes of collecting his thoughts, he picked himself up. He needed to find that ring.

After another minute or two to regain his composure, he got up on unsteady legs, and started his search.

His ring had to be here somewhere. After multiple futile attempts at finding his most expensive possession he collapsed next to a trash bin, fresh tears pouring.

As he was about to get back up, a set of firm hands grabbed Virgil’s shoulders, making him flinch for a second time that day. A crisp voice found its way to his ears, slightly calming him down.

“Virgil? What happened? Can you hear me?” He nodded. Who’s here?

Blinking away his tears, he looked up to see Logan with a worried Patton in the background. Why the flying fuck are they here? It didn’t matter, what mattered was Virgil being a complete fuck up for losing the ring.

“Virgil, are you having an attack?” No? Why are you asked dumb questions?

Virgil glared lightly, choosing a more polite approach than he would have liked, “No. Why are you here?” He shrunk down into his hoodie, he did not want to be here right now.

Logan adjusted his glasses as Patton calmed down, breathing a sigh of relief.  Patton gave him his ‘disappointed dad look’ and Virgil shrunk into his hoodie some more. Patton can be more threatening than he realizes.

“Well, kiddo-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Shush. As I was going to tell you, Logan found this nifty ring in the hallway-“

Ring?

“Where! Where is it?” Virgil was instantly freaking out again.

It had to be his ring!

Logan told him something but he wasn’t listening, he needed to know!

Patton looked baffled at Virgil’s outburst.

“Kiddo, it’s okay, we were on our way to turn it in at the office, when a boy with this neato snake charm walked up. He seemed like he was in a rush, too! Maybe we-“

“Patton you are getting off topic.”

“Sorry. Thanks, Lo. Well he said that it was his ring that he lost earlier this morning, so we handed it off to him.” Virgil shut down. His thoughts halted, his breath caught in his throat, and his body was too stressed to continue shaking. What? His ring. His gift to the one he loved ‘oh-so-much’.

No, Virgil. It could be a different ring.

‘Were you ever that lucky, though?’

“Patton.”

“Yeah kiddo?”

“What did the ring look like?”

Before Patton could go on about the ring, Logan provided the answer he was hoping to not hear,

“It was a dull golden ring, it also had floral designs-”

Virgil got up hastily, as if a snake bit him. He felt queasy and the shaking came back just as fast as it disappeared.

“Oh my god,” he started out, he saw black dots enter his vision, he couldn’t control his breathing anymore. Please. Let it be a joke. It’s a terrible prank and they knew about the ring the whole time.

“Virgil.” Who?

“Virgil.” Who is that?

“Virgil!” He snapped out of his dazed state,

“Hu-huh. What?”

“You zoned out, kiddo. Are you okay?” Patton, it’s just Patton.

He searched around for a moment, someone was missing from the picture.

“Wher- Where’s Logan?” Patton shifted closer to Virgil, slowly putting an arm around his shoulder.

“He went to get the nurse, but I just texted him that you’re okay, so he should be coming back now.”

“Where’s Roman?” In the months that he had been apart from his friends, he never saw the three separated.

Patton glanced down the hall to see Logan and a tall guy coming their way.

“Roman’s in a different class right now, so he didn’t find the ring with us.”

A single “Oh” left his mouth.

When Logan and the boy came close enough, Virgil noticed how tight his grip on the boy’s arm was. Patton seemed to notice that too, but he didn’t say anything.

Once Logan came close enough to talk quietly, he started a mini rant,

“I found this heathen,” Logan gestured to the guy, “roaming the hallways. He did not have a hall pass, but he did have a lot of metal bands.” Logan shoved the boy’s jacket down, showing off tons of stitch-on inside pockets. He pulled a few items out, just to drop them onto the floor.

Patton gasped loudly, Virgil’s eyes widened significantly. These items were very familiar to both of them.

One by one, more pockets were emptied, class rings showered the hallway’s dirty floors. Logan continued,

“I watched him fill his pockets with the class rings in the teacher’s lounge. He is also the one who said the ring that is presumably Virgil’s was his.”

Patton looked on, shocked at what he was seeing, “Kiddo,” he choked out, “why would you steal class rings?” His eyes filled with tears as he continued to gaze at the multicolored rings.

The boy’s amber eyes grew cold, the once petrified person transformed into a hardened shell, “None of your business. If I wanted to be questioned, I would have just made a shit-load of noise as I took ‘em.” Logan blinked, seeming to try and keep his composure.

“I do not understand. There is absolutely no gain in taking rings.”

“Yes there is!”

“Kiddo, how? Stealing is wrong! This could get you a one way ticket to prison!”

“I have my reasons, trash.”

“You will not speak to Patton like that! He was simply trying to get an explanation!”

“Shut up! I don’t need to explain my reasoning, clod.”

“But you do have a reason that can get you out of trouble?”

“Of-fucking-course I do, Sherlock!”

“Don’t talk to Logan like that! He just wants to help!”

“Then tell us!”

Three heads whipped around when the ever silent teen Virgil shouted, seeming to have forgotten him. He took large, quick steps towards his target, who took a two steps back for every step forwards Virgil made.

“Tells us why you took the rings.”

Logan and Patton looked on as Virgil backed him into a wall. Once the boy couldn’t go anywhere, he tried to seem bigger by raising his shoulders and neck. But unluckily for him, when Virgil stopped slouching and rose to his full height, he had a good four inches on him.He planted a hand on the wall, trapping his target.

Virgil seethed, his nostrils flared out slightly,

“Listen buddy,” the boy shrunk back down.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you can’t just go parading around, stealing people’s rings! Do you know how much one of those costs? Like four hundred freaking dollars!”

The boy looked anywhere but Virgil’s direction.

“What’s your name?” Confusion passed over Alastor’s face. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why should I tell you, bitch?”

“Excuse me?”

Silence, then a quiet,

“Alastor…”

Virgil glared at him. “Well, Alastor, I hope you realize unless you have a good damn reason for stealing all of those rings, which must have my ring that my father worked his ass off for in it, I will report you. And then you can say bye-bye to your little life of stealing people’s shit.”

Alastor stayed silent, as if his shoes were more interesting than what’s going on around him. Virgil looked over him one more time, before leaning his body off the wall and making his way to the office, anger controlling his anxiety. Thank you adrenaline.

‘It’s sad knowing you’re only this gutsy due to adrenaline’

“Wait!” Alastor cried out, transforming into a helpless teenager,

“You can’t tell anyone! I swear I’ll do anything you want me to!”

Patton and Logan looked on, seemingly curious as to what their used-to-be friend will do.

Virgil stopped and turned pausing to act like he was thinking,

“Why.Did.You.Steal.My.Ring.” The words where uttered like a statement, rather than a question.

Alastor took a deep, raspy breath before opening his mouth fully,

“My mom’s sick…

“And my dad left last week.”

Patton made a confused noise,”Left? Like a vacation? That’s not a very soli-“

“No!” Alastor shouted, causing everyone to jump,

“He walked out on use ‘cause her insurance wouldn’t cover the costs. He left ‘cause he’s a shitty dad.”

Patton gasped as Logan shuddered. Virgil looked on blankly. Logan and Alastor watched Patton’s face morph from confused, to horrified, then back to confusion.

“But that doesn’t explain it? How does your old man leaving cover for you stealing class rings?”

Virgil shook his head as he walked towards Alastor,

“Yes it does, Pat. How do you think his mother is still in the hospital?” Patton gasped once more, understanding flashed in his eyes.

“You-you stole the rings to pawn them off didn’t you?” Silence was the only answer they needed for verification.

Alastor slowly walked towards the rings, “You can have your ring back,” he bent down, picking up Virgil’s dull ring, “I watched you drop it in the hall this morning, I was going to get it, but these two beat me to it.” He gestured to Logan and Patton. Logan holding a sniffling Patton close.

Virgil held open his palm once Alastor got close enough for him to drop it. He inspected it carefully, making sure no harm was done, before securing it in his pocket once more.

“Thanks,” he nodded his head to the pile of class rings on the ground.

“What about those, you going to turn them in?”

“I don’t have a say in the matter, do I?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

Virgil chuckled. Alastor reminded him somewhat of Roman, he was witty and  he would do anything for the ones he loved, even if it meant breaking the law.

‘But he wouldn’t go this far.’

He quickly shook his head, as if it would clear that thought.

“You can turn them in how ever you want to, but I know Logan won’t let you leave with them.” He sent a look towards Logan, who was fussing over a calmed down dad friend.

Alastor nodded curtly, “I’m sorry or whatever.” He pushed out the words softly.

“I don’t need your sympathy, though,” he continued on.

Virgil let a puff of air escape him, “Noted.”

As Logan came over with the rings in a bag, Alastor looked at the bag, obviously confused.

“Weird right? He keeps a plastic baggy on him at all times, he even has extra in his backpack.” Alastor just smirked, enjoying the new information given to him. He probably‘s like you, no friends.

‘But no one at home to go back to.’

He cringed at the thought.

Before Alastor could walk out of his reach, Virgil gripped his arm,

“Wait.” He paused, wondering how to say this without seeming like it was out of pity, “If you want, you can sit with me later at lunch, I always sit alone, so it’s not like it would bother anybody.

Alastor’s eyes widened a fraction, before he looked at Virgil in shock, “But I tried to steal from you! Are you normally this clueless?”

Virgil merely shrugged, “The offer still stands. Come if you want, but it’s your choice.”

After the day’s episode of crazy, Virgil sat in the courtyard, anticipation riding on his back.

It’s not like he would actually-Oh my god there he is!

Alastor caught Virgil’s gaze as he sheepishly walked over to him, sitting on the brick wall behind them.

A simple, “Hey” Came out of Alastor’s mouth. Virgil awkwardly shifted on his spot on top of the wall. How did he think this was a good idea again?

‘Because he’s all alone.’

Virgil squeaked. “Hi.”

“So, those two guys helped me put the rings back in the cases without the teachers knowing.”

Virgil blinked in shock,” Seriously?

“Yeah, it was mostly because I was the only person who looked after my mom.”

“Oh.”

“In the end, they ended up threatening me before they would help me, though.”

“Why did they threaten you?”

Alastor’s eyes widened, his pale cheeks almost immediately turned five shades redder. Virgil stared, while he may be observant, he was dense as shit.

Virgil then craned his head towards a round table near the edge of the courtyard, watching as Roman, Logan, and Patton sat down in their respective areas. Roman’s smirk vanished for a second, before being replaced with a soft smile, a few white glistening teeth showing through. He let out a puff of air.

He looked back at Alastor, grinning as he kept missing a fruit with his fork. Not missing the small growl he let out when it fell off his tray and onto the floor. Virgil let out a chuckle, giving one of his pieces of fruit to Alastor, chuckling all the while.

Although Virgil’s plan never got put into motion, at least he had someone to call a friend.

A/N: Glad that got finished! Deceit’s name has a meaning to it, I just forgot cuz I’ve been writing for hours on other future fics/one-shots. Thank you for reading, and please tell me how I did!

[jastiss-blog]

Be Mine - Promptis Valentine's day exchange

Hey folks.  I decided to participate in this year's FFXV Valentine's day exchange!  My person is on Twitter, so I'm posting here for your enjoyment (and so that I can have a link to tweet... Or something).  I've never written Promptis before so I hope it's good!  SFW, no warnings involved.

Another Valentine’s day alone, from the look of things.

Prompto heaved a melancholy breath before stuffing more salad in his mouth.  The surrounding room was still, not another soul in sight.  At that point, he was used to being alone.

But… why should he be?

His parents were often away due to work, leaving money for food and other necessities when they left.  A loner by nature, he didn’t have many friends to fill the void.  Of course, he had Noct and by some extension Ignis, but that was about it.  With school being past him, he often spent his days wandering with his camera, taking shots of whatever caught his eye.  Perhaps he should take up vocational photography to keep himself busy.

As Prompto fell into the darkest reaches of his mind, arm and mouth mechanically moving to finish his meal, he didn’t notice his front door open and close, nor did he see his visitor until they leaned into his line of sight.

“Hey loser,” Noct said in greeting.  “I could have been some guy here to steal all your things and… you look like you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Finally perking up, Prompto blinked rapidly, vision focusing in on his best friend just as a blush rose in his freckled cheeks.

“Ah, heh…” he chuckled nervously, picking at the hem of his vest.  “J-just lost in thought, I guess.”

Noct huffed a laugh himself, leveling a playful punch at his friend.  “You’re always in the clouds dude.”

Settling himself across from Prompto, Noct fell silent, an almost contemplative expression upon him.

“What’s up?” Prompto prodded, trying to quash his anxiety.  “Usually you come in here with a lot more snark.”

“Thinking about what game I can own you in today,” the Prince smirked in response.  

“Dude, no way,” the blond pouted, jabbing a lettuce-laden fork in Noct’s direction.  “We both know I am the superior gamer here.”

“You wish,” Noct teased.  “What are you doing for the lame holiday coming up?” It took a moment for Prompto to figure out what the Prince was referring to.  “Uh, you mean Valentine’s Day?”

“The lamest of them all,” he clarified.  “Do you have a daaate?”

“As if anyone wants to date me,” Prompto mumbled, frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

There was a flash of something in Noct’s eyes as he frowned as well.  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.  Anyway, I don’t have a date either; wanna be mine?  Uh, you know, my bro date.”

The blond wasn’t entirely sure his friend wasn’t being facetious, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.  Secretly, he hoped Noct was being serious.  The truth was, he had growing feelings for the sleepy Prince, yet was always too shy to make any moves on it.

“Yeah, ok, very funny,” Prompto hissed sarcastically. 

"Don't make me beg," the raven-haired boy wheedled.  "Do you want your prince to spend a holiday all alone?"

He was actually serious.  Prompto's heart leapt into his throat and before his brain could think anything through, his mouth was already working.

"Well, no!" he cried quickly.  "You could come over here and have dinner with me!  Play some video games, destroy our friendship playing that one game you hate... it'll be a great day!"

"You're going to cook dinner," Noct deadpanned.  "Well, sure, why not?  Wanna head over to my place for some gaming?  You could probably crash there, too."

As the pair walked along the city, enjoying the brisk midwinter day, it finally caught up to Prompto that not only had he agreed to this so-called "bro date," but he also offered to cook dinner.  Now, for some that wouldn't be such a bad thing but honestly... Prompto had no idea how to cook anything that would be remotely appropriate for Valentine's Day.  He could make a mean salad, sure, and some basic proteins but he wanted this to be special and maybe convince Noct for it to be more than just some bros enjoying being single together.

As luck would have it, when they arrived at Noct's apartment, Ignis was there, cleaning the kitchen.  When Noct went over to set up the game system, Prompto slowly sidled up to Ignis, a conspiratorial look set upon his innocent features. "Yes, Prompto?" Ignis asked, not looking up from his task of scrubbing the stove, which miraculously was filthy, despite Noct never using it.

The younger boy jumped, forgetting that Ignis' perception was second to none.  A nervous chuckle squeaked out of him at the prospect of presenting his unconventional request.

"Uh, hey there Iggy," he began, voice wavering slightly out of nerves.  "You, uh, you got a second?"

Ignis finally looked up, peering down his nose at Prompto, one eyebrow arched.  "No, Prompto, I will not engage in pranking Noct."

A full belly laugh erupted from Prompto, then.  Of course Ignis would assume he was up to no good.  Hell, it was usually true.  

"No, no, nothing like that!" Prompto wheezed as the laughter died down.  "I need some help with something.  Like, genuinely."

"Indeed?" Ignis queried, voice pitching higher in interest.  "What can I assist with?"

Anxiety rose within the gunman, soaring to such heights that he considered abandoning his quest and ordering food on the day instead.  Ignis was fully aware of Prompto's skittish nature, opting to set down his cleaning supplies and fully face the younger man.

"It's alright, Prompto," he soothed.  "If it is within my power, I'll help.  Tell me what's going on."

"Well, I uh... I may have accidentally offered to cook Noct dinner for Valentine's Day and-"

"-and you've no idea how to do just that?" Ignis supplied helpfully.

“Not a clue, dude,” Prompto groaned, a defeated frown upon his lips as his brow furrowed.

Ignis huffed a gentle laugh, smiling fondly down at the boy.  “I would be happy to assist you in gaining the requisite knowledge for your endeavor.”

“Uhh... so that’s a yes?” Prompto asked, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Absolutely,” the adviser confirmed, still smiling.  “I’m proud of you for finally acting upon your feelings.”

The smaller blond jumped back dramatically, furious blush rising upon his cheeks as he clutched his chest.  “W-what?  What are you talking about?”

Jade eyes fixed him with a nonplussed stare.  “Really, Prompto?  As if no one else can tell you’ve harbored feelings for Noct for some time.  You’re transparent, as they say.”

“Never been good at keeping secrets,” Prompto admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat.  “D'you think he knows?”

“Doubtful,” Ignis replied, turning back to his cleaning.  “The only one more oblivious than you is Noct.  Now, along with you; I’ve this rarely-used kitchen to clean.  Shall we meet up tomorrow at your residence?”

“You’re going to make me get up stupid early, aren’t you?” Prompto asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Of course.  Prompto, I'm not entirely sure why they refer to you as 'sunshine boy' if you never see the sun," Ignis confirmed.  "I must rise early.  My Ebony needs me."

There was a pause as Prompto steadily flushed crimson.  "What - 'sunshine boy'?  Who the hell calls me that?!"

"My lips are sealed," Ignis dodged, lips curled into a villainous smirk, eyes twinkling in mirth.  "Now, shall we say eight sharp?"

"Eight," Prompto groaned, dropping his head in anguish.  Noct had better consider himself lucky.  "Fine.  But only because this is important!  I am never getting up early for fun."

"PROM, come on, what's taking so long?  Afraid of getting your ass kicked?" Noct yelled from across the room, game already loaded and waiting.

Prompto bounded away, plopping down next to Noct and taking a controller.  "As if, buddy.  Game on!"

~~~

The following day, Prompto anxiously bobbed from foot-to-foot, checking his clock every few moments as he waited for Ignis to arrive.  The adviser had texted to let Prompto know he would be stopping at the store to acquire ingredients for the meal.  The whole affair was making the photographer twitchy; he hoped his parents had insurance to cover total loss should the worst happen.

At eight o'clock on the dot, the doorbell rang, causing Prompto to jump (not because he had fallen asleep standing up, no way!).  Opening the door revealed Ignis clad in a simple button-down oxford and dark wash jeans, an apron draped over his arm and a paper bag in hand.  When Prompto tried to peer inside, Ignis simply bumped him out of the way with his hip.

"Good morning to you as well, Prompto," he greeted, a small smile playing about his lips.  "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"Anxiety," Prompto said by way of explanation.  "Also, I fell asleep standing up waiting.  So, technically, I was."

A deep rumble conveyed Ignis' amusement as he slipped off his shoes and made for the kitchen.  Once there, he placed the bag upon the counter along with the apron, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves before placing the apron about his waist.

"Alright, Prompto," he began, retrieving ingredients from the bag.  Prompto noticed something wrapped in paper.  "I've procured some lovely barramundi for you, as well as some Leiden potatoes.  If you're feeling particularly amorous, you may cut them into hearts.  Otherwise, roasting them in quarters is acceptable."

"This sounds complicated already," Prompto groused, glaring at the ingredients with disdain.

"It's a rather easy recipe," Ignis countered.  "You'll be fine.  Just watch me and follow along."

It was not fine.

Fish ended up on the ceiling as it flung past Ignis' face, raining flakes upon the bespectacled man.  To his credit, he simply stared in bewilderment, mouth set in a thin line.  Prompto couldn't help but laugh; he had warned Ignis, after all.  It wasn't his fault the man didn't believe him.

"Perhaps I was mistaken," was all Ignis said.

After writing down an extremely detailed step-by-step guide and explaining where they went wrong, Prompto felt like he had a minor grasp on what he was supposed to do.  As not to waste ingredients, he opted to simply study the written recipe, assuring Ignis that he was a giant help, despite their failure.

"Don't hesitate to contact me if you require help," Ignis offered.  "I'll help in whatever way I'm able.  I do wish you luck, Prompto."

On the day of, Prompto sure needed that luck.  His anxiety was sky-high, causing him to reach for his meds, staring into the bottle at the pills within.  Eventually, he decided against it; this was going to be a pivotal day and he didn't want his senses and emotions dulled.  Hopefully, it would be a day to remember.

Somehow, he managed to perfectly grill the barramundi and decided to go all out, cutting the potatoes into hearts.  With any luck, Noct would catch his meaning.

As usual, Noct arrived with a flourish, throwing open the door without so much as a knock.  Prompto huffed, choosing not to turn away from plating their dinner.

"You could knock once in a while," he complained, hoping Noct could hear the frown in his voice.

"Hmm," the Prince hummed, "don't see why I should.  This is basically my home, too.  So, what's for dinner?"

Always so straight to the point.  Prompto held back a chuckle, turning to motion for his best friend to have a seat.

"Sit down," he commanded.  "I'm finishing plating it."

"Plating?" Noct loosed a low whistle.  "You sound like a regular chef.  Been talking to Specs a lot?"

The blond turned, placing two plates on the table.  "Ta da!  Anyway, yeah, so maybe Iggy helped me with it.  I figured you'd want more than a salad."

Noct's ocean eyes widened in shock.  "Prompto, this looks great!"

Flushing, Prompto sat down abruptly, eyes cast down at the food.  "I, uh... th-thanks.  Hopefully it tastes good."

Silence fell as the two dug into their food.  To Prompto's surprise, it was actually very good, and if the noises coming from Noct were any indication, he agreed.

"Are these... heart shaped potatoes?" The sleepy prince blurted.  "You really took the bro date seriously, didn't you?"

Though the photographer knew it was all in jest, the part of him hoping today would change the nature of their relationship took the innocuous comment as a serious blow.  He was out of his seat in an instant, fleeing to the sink, where he leaned heavily on the countertop, staring into the darkness of the disposal as dark thoughts swirled in his mind.  This whole idea was so stupid.

"Uhhh... Prom?  What's going on?"

Prompto pointedly ignored his friend, filling a cup with the coldest water the tap would allow, reaching for his meds and popping the correct amount.  The cool water gave him chills going down, but sadly did nothing to calm the inferno of panic raging within him.

When a hand landed upon his shoulder, Prompto whirled, crazed periwinkle orbs meeting quizzical deep azurite.

"This was such a stupid idea!" The blond hissed, vision blurring with unshed tears.  "Just... you can finish it, I'm not going to kick you out or anything but like... I think I need to be alone, dude."

When Prompto made to retreat to his room, Noct stopped him with a firm grip on his forearm, dragging his friend back to bring them face-to-face.

"Tell me what the hell is going on," Noct demanded.  "I don't understand."

Trapped.  The meds wouldn't take effect soon enough to pull Prompto from the feeling of 100% terror as he realized he was stuck, forced to face feelings he wasn't quite ready to confess, especially if they weren't reciprocated.  Breathing became difficult, shallow, muscles spasming rapidly.

"Prom, grounding techniques," Noct reminded him, grip loosening.  "Come on.  Breathe."

Focus.  Five things I can see.  Noct, fridge, door, table, shoes.

Breathing slowing.  Muscles relaxing.

Four things I can smell.  Barramundi, potatoes, lemon, Noct.

Pupils returning to normal.

Three things I can touch.  Counter, Noct, sink.

It was enough to calm.  Though still upset, Prompto was at least able to focus and decided it was then or never.

"Dude, like... I can't believe you don't get it," he rambled.  "All this talk about some 'bro date' but... look, I just... I didn't want this to be a bro date, Noct."

Confusion lit Noct's eyes, but Prompto plowed on before he could get a word in. "So I made you these dumb potatoes shaped like hearts 'cause I have no idea how any of this works and... dude I don't know.  I don't understand why you don't get it!"

"Don't get WHAT?" Noct shouted, interrupting the train wreck Prompto was speeding toward.

"Noct, for fuck's sake, I wanted this to be a.. a real date!"

Silence.

Prompto buried his head in his hands, completely missing the wonder written plainly upon his best friend's face.  Slowly, as if in a dream, Noct moved to pry them away, the touch of his fingers against Prompto's jolting like crackling lightning.

"Prom, come on," he whispered reverently.  "Look at me."

Timid bloodshot eyes peered through pale fingers, eyebrows knitting together at Noct's tender smile.  Muffled, his voice came out harsher than intended.  "What?"

"Why didn't you say something?" Noct queried.  "Instead of going through... all this?"

Finally dropping his hands, Prompto frowned.  "I-I don't know.  I was nervous.  You're my best friend, buddy."

"Well, I hear that the best relationships start as solid friendships," Noct quipped, a broad smile inching its way onto his lips.  "Since we're putting things out there, I guess... uh, well, there's something I've always wanted to do."

Prompto didn't get a chance to ask what the one thing was before Noct leaned in and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss upon his lips.

Hands down, it would forever be Prompto's favorite Valentine's Day.

[chasholidays]

You're awesome for doing this again! How about: Clarke is internet crushing on a food blogger and flirts with him over the comments, but he doesn't put his real name online and she has no idea what he looks like. ALSO, she's real life crushing on her BFF's brother Bellamy. Surprise - they're the same person. (please and thank you, I love all of your work!!)

Not to be completely shallow or anything, but Clarke starts reading Grumio’s blog because of a screenshot of his hands.

His hands are the only parts of his body that are really visible on any part of his website, but they’re more than enough for her to decide to follow up on him. She’s always had a thing for hands, and Grumio’s are basically perfect. Clarke is aggressively here for smart boys with perfect hands who know how to cook.

Granted, he knows how to cook in the dorkiest way possible, but Clarke’s kind of into that too. She likes people who are passionate and dedicated, regardless of what the passion is for or the dedication is to.

Unless it’s passion about racism or something. Fuck that.

But Grumio is passionate about Roman cooking. Well, okay, he seems to be passionate about Roman culture in general, but the focus of his blog is on researching and recreating historical cuisine using period-appropriate ingredients and tools. It’s not really the kind of thing Clarke is usually into but, again, he has amazing hands. Every once in a while, he’ll do a video, and even though he just plays music in the background instead of speaking, they’re still pretty much her favorite thing to watch.

And, yes, she knows how sad that is. But Grumio is interesting. He’d have to be, to have gotten the following he has. He’s a popular internet dork who cares deeply about history. She’s not the only one who thinks he’s cool.

Which is probably why she decides to tell Bellamy about him.

There is an irrational part of Clarke that feels wrong, talking to Bellamy about Grumio. After all, Grumio is her internet crush, and Bellamy is her real-life crush, and it feels as though talking about one to the other is crossing the streams. But Bellamy teaches Latin, so she’s brought him up a couple times in her comments to Grumio, and it seems only logical to bring Grumio up to him.

If she’s honest, it’s felt logical for a while, but she was putting it off, and Bellamy reminds her of exactly why as soon as she does it.

“Have you heard of Cooking with Grumio?” she asks, and he frowns in a way that suggests less that he isn’t familiar with the blog and more that he’s confused she that she is.

“Have you?”

“No, I put together a random string of syllables and hit a real thing. You know about it?”

“I’m a Latin teacher,” he says, voice gently teasing. “My students have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Okay, yeah. I probably should have seen that coming.”

“I appreciate the head’s up anyway.” He takes a drink of his beer, and Clarke’s worried it’s going to turn into an awkward silence, but instead it turns into an awkward question. “How did you find it?”

“How does anyone find anything on the internet? I followed a link and liked it enough to add it to my bookmarks.”

“Oh wow, it’s on your bookmarks,” he teases. “That’s the real sign of internet dedication.”

“What, do you not like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s cool, I guess. I approve of anything that’s educational but tricks kids into thinking it’s fun. I just didn’t think it would be your thing.”

“He’s a good writer,” she says, trying to be just as casual. “And it’s interesting. Just because I’m not an ancient Rome enthusiast, it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a cool project.”

“I guess so. Well, thanks for letting me know about it.”

“Even if I’m the thousandth person to tell you.”

He smiles; the expression looks a little off to Clarke, but she can’t really figure out why. It’s not like they’re really friends. Clarke is friends with Octavia, and Octavia is close to her brother. They see each other a few times a month, and Clarke tries very hard to not be into him, because, again, Octavia is close to her brother. There’s nothing inherently wrong with dating a friend’s sibling, but given how Octavia and Bellamy grew up, it’s more like dating a friend’s surrogate father figure. Which is definitely a little weird.

None of which matters, because Bellamy’s not interested in her anyway. He’s just an incredibly attractive person she hangs out with sometimes, and they end up talking mostly by default. Everyone else is kind of paired off.

“Hey, you could always hit the Latin thing I haven’t heard about. Stranger things have happened.”

“Are there Latin things you don’t know about?”

“If there are, I wouldn’t know, so–”

She laughs. “So I’ll let you know if I find any other cool blogs.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it.”

*

Comments on post You Asked, Grumio Drank Until He Was Okay With It: Time to Bake Bread

Sea Geez Have you seriously never made bread before???

GrumioDon’t judge, I’m not much of a baker.

Sea GeezReally? Why not? Baking is basically all I’m good at.

GrumioI don’t know. It seems boring. I like trying to figure stuff out, and when I’m baking, I basically have all the answers. Add this much, and if you add any more, you fuck it up.

Also, yeast weirds me out.

Sea GeezYeast weirds you out?

GrumioIt’s ALIVE.

Sea GeezYou eat meat. You know what meat is, right?

GrumioAnd in a life or death situation, I’d probably be fine killing my own food. But I still feel bad for yeast.

Sea GeezThat’s actually kind of adorable.

GrumioThanks, I try.

*

“So, uh, did you see that Grumio post about Saturnalia?” Bellamy asks. He sounds so profoundly awkward, she can’t help smiling.

“Are you trying to make conversation? Because you’re a lot better at it when you’re not trying. That was so awkward.”

“Thanks. I was just curious. I thought it was pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I liked it too. If I were better at cooking, I might try some of it out.”

“Really?”

“I feel weird reading a food blog where I never try to make any of the recipes. Like I’m missing out.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking oddly nervous. “I’m not a bad cook,” he offers. “If you ever found one you really wanted to try, I could probably help out.”

It’s the first time he’s ever made any offer to hang out with her one-on-one, which is simultaneously awesome and kind of–suspect. Which is ridiculous, obviously. She and Bellamy are friends. There’s nothing at all suspicious about his offering to help her with cooking. That’s a normal, friendly thing.

“Have you made any yourself?”

“Again, Latin teacher. I do them all the time for school events. The kids love seeing stuff they recognize from Grumio, honestly.”

“So, do you have any favorites? Anything you want to show me?”

“I could probably come up with something. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to,” he adds.

He’s so nervous. About offering to cook for her, of all things.

If it’s suspicious, it’s the best kind of suspicious.

“No, that would be awesome. Was there something in the Saturnalia post you thought would be good? Anything you recommend?”

“The Roman cheesecake balls looked pretty cool. I could probably come up with something else to go with them.”

“A full Grumio meal?”

He smiles a little. “That’s the idea.”

*

Comments on post Walk Like an Egyptian, Drink Like a Roman

Sea GeezTop three recipes you’ve ever made?

GrumioThat’s like asking me to pick my top three children.

Sea Geez1. Is it?2. How many children do you have?

GrumioI see your transparent attempt to trick me into giving out demographic information and I’m not falling for it. But good effort. Here are some of my favorite recipes for your effort.

*

Clarke’s never actually been to Bellamy’s apartment, but when she told him about the incredibly sorry state of her kitchen, he invited her over to his place instead. There is something of a datelike feeling to the whole evening, and she’s doing her best to not read into it. After all, they’re already friendly, and this is a logical way to take it a step further to being actual friends.

It’s not a date. Definitely not a date.

When she knocks on the door, he just calls, “It’s open!” and when she goes in, she finds him in the kitchen, apparently reviewing his giant pile of ingredients.

“Wow. You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.”

She makes a show of looking at his crowded counter tops. “Yeah, that’s just clearly a lie. You went to a ton of trouble.”

“I saved the receipts, you said you’d Venmo me.”

“Yeah, but–it’s still a lot of effort. Not just money.”

“I like cooking,” he says, with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“You say that now, but you haven’t seen how shitty I am at cooking yet.”

“You can’t be that bad,” he says, with the confidence of someone who has never witnessed her in the kitchen.

“Don’t jinx it,” she says. “What am I doing?”

It should be unspeakably awkward, being not just alone with Bellamy, but in his kitchen, but to Clarke’s surprise, it’s actually pretty fun. He really is a good cook, obviously familiar with not only cooking in general, but all the recipes he’s showing her. And even though she’s about the farthest thing possible from an expert, Bellamy is mostly patient, and at least amused when she fucks up.

The two of them agreed on a menu without much trouble, and it is cool, seeing the dishes she’s seen online come together in real life.

And as she watches him chop some herbs, she realizes exactly how much what she’s watching resembles what she’s seen online. Her jaw drops, and before she can think it through, she says, “Holy shit, you’re Grumio.”

He freezes. “What?”

There’s no going back, so she just has to plow forward. “I recognize your hands.”

“My hands?” he asks, incredulous.

She should have noticed before, honestly. Of course Bellamy has nice hands, he always has. She’s caught herself on more than one occasion watching the way he gestures when he talks, but it’s hard to really identify someone from their hands alone. It’s seeing the way they look in action, cooking, that’s so familiar, and somehow she’s sure. Bellamy’s list of dishes was very similar to the one she proposed. He was always a little shifty about the whole thing. It makes sense, for all it feels impossible. Grumio could be anyone, but somehow, he’s Bellamy.

“I was going to tell you,” he says, slumping.

“When?”

“When I figured out how. I didn’t think anyone I knew actually read it. O mentioned it once but just, you know, she saw a link.”

“So no one knows?”

“You know.”

“No one else.”

He shrugs, a little awkward. “I didn’t want my students to know, so it just seemed easier to not tell anyone.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Fuck, I can’t believe you recognized my hands. I didn’t think they were that special.”

“Maybe I’m just a big fan.”

“Are you? Do you comment or anything?”

Part of her wants to lie, but he easily could have denied his own identity, so it’s only fair. “Yeah, um. Sea Geez.”

He stares at her, and then starts laughing. “Holy shit. Seriously?”

“What?”

“You’re my favorite commenter.”

A warm glow of pride fills her chest. “Well, you’re my favorite Roman food blogger.”

“Thanks.” He turns his attention back to the chopping, deliberate. “This was, uh. The best way I could figure out to use it as a pickup. If I’d know you were Sea Geez I would have just asked you out, honestly.”

“Really?”

“You were definitely flirting with me.”

“You were definitely flirting back!”

He grins. “I was. So—did this work?”

“This?”

He gestures to his kitchen. “First date.”

“Does Octavia know it’s a first date?”

“Fuck, she always knows when I have a crush. It’s the world’s most annoying super power. She knows.”

“Then yeah,” she says. “Anything would have worked, honestly.”

“Awesome. Go check the meat, will you?”

“Romantic,” she teases, and he just raises one shoulder, smiles.

“I thought so, yeah.”

*

Comments on post First Anniversary Dinner for Poppaea

Helen of Troy, NYWow, that’s a really nice spread!! Poppaea is a very lucky woman. I hope she appreciates you ;)

GrumioYeah, don’t worry, I’m pretty sure she does.

Sea GeezWell, who wouldn’t?

[noctisyoulikeahurricane]

The Light-Bearer and the Void-Beast

-Prompto’s TV Show?!-

(Chapter 4)

~POV Prompto~

Prompto woke with a start as he realized he was not in the tent. He felt heavy clothes on him and when he looked down, he discovered he was wearing some sort of snow gear? When he returned his gaze away from his clothes and looked around, a vending machine with the words, “Ebony,” on them rested behind him. Why was this machine here? Why did he have snow gear on? What is this place?

When Prompto got up, everything suddenly seemed very quiet. He stood at the end of an office-like hallway. The only sounds he could hear was the rise and fall of his own breathing. The silence felt deafening as his footsteps fell silently as he moved through the hall to the first door.

Prompto tried to open the first door in the hall, but the handle wouldn’t budge. He shrugged a little to himself and moved onto the next door. It swung open quietly, but the light from the hall didn’t break past the doorframe.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all...” Prompto said sarcastically to himself. Nothing but blackness greeted him when he looked inside the other room. He carefully put his foot through to test if the floor felt solid, and when it did, he went through the door and into the room.

Once Prompto walked away from the door, the door slammed shut on its own accord. Prompto braced for something bad to happen, but for a few moments, not a thing happened. Prompto opened his eyes and lost the words he was about to say. Stars shone above for a while before a harsh wind started to pick up. His arms went up to buffer the sudden cold wind that moved against his face, but then Prompto gasped in surprise.

He no longer wore the winter clothes. Instead, a long navy blue suit adorned his arms and shoulders. A matching set of dress pants were also present. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why is he suddenly dressed so formally? A bright light broke his trail of thought and he lifted his hand to prevent himself from seeing spots. The sudden roar of clapping thundered ahead of him as an unfamiliar voice introduced him.

“And here’s the man of the hour, Prompto Argentum!” We welcome you all back to the show!” The announcement said in a singsong voice. Prompto made his way downstage over to a desk and waved at the audience. Prompto did not recall moving however. A familiar happy chirp caught his attention and he looked off to his right to see Alyssa curled up on a comfortable looking chair with leather armrests next to his desk. Somehow her presence calmed him down. Prompto’s movements were his own this time.

“Yes! We are back with our very special guest, Alyssa, the Queen of the Stars! We will continue with the interview now to get to know our guest a little better.” Prompto said, recalling his lines easily. Alyssa watched him in interest, still seated so that she faced the audience still.

“So Alyssa, what brings you to our show tonight?” Prompto asked. He suddenly remembered that she couldn’t speak, but before he could do anything, Alyssa seemed to abruptly have the ability to talk to Prompto’s shock.

“A messenger by the name of Gentiana brought me to you and your friends after I arrived on this world. Do you not remember my friend?” Alyssa said. For such a tiny dragon, her voice held so much power!

“Oh, right! We already went over that in our last interview, my bad!” Prompto chuckled and the audience laughed with him.

“We were trying to figure out something correct?” You might have to remind me. Prompto said once the audience calmed down.

“I am trying to find a way to restore my magic. We ran out of time earlier to discuss ideas.” Alyssa responded in kind.

“Oh, that’s right! Well, I have a few ideas on how to help, but we might need to change things up a bit!” Prompto said enthusiastically. He motioned to the left of both of them and motioned for Alyssa to follow him there.

A pedestal stood out from some sort of game area. Off to the left of the podium seemed to be a chair and table combination with a button on the table. A dark LED screen hid the bottom half of the chair from view, probably for some sort of score-keeping.

Once the two were situated, Prompto decided to clue in the audience on what was happening. He straightened his red tie, then swept his hands in a way to point the crowd’s gaze in the direction of the spinning wheel nearby on the wall.

“Ok folks, here’s how this works. Our esteemed guest will guess a color and when we spin the wheel, the pointer on the wheel will tell us if our guest can move onto the next game. There are four colors: red, blue, green, and yellow. These four colors represent what game will come next.” Prompto started to explain.

“Each color represents one of our group members, excluding our guest. Blue represents Noctis, green represents Ignis, red represents Gladio, and yellow represents me! If our guest can guess what color the wheel lands on, we get to go to a different game altogether. If the color is predicted incorrectly, then we have to do an activity in order to progress. For example, if the wheel lands on blue (Noctis) and Alyssa does not guess this color, we have to go fishing. If green (Ignis) is landed on and not predicted, then we will have to cook up a recipe. If red (Gladio) is spun and not chosen by our guest, we will have to train with Gladio. And finally if yellow (Prompto) is spun but not picked, we will need to ride chocobos! Oh I really hope we can ride chocobos!” Prompto said excitedly.

“Okay Alyssa, what color do you think the wheel will land on?” Prompto asked. Alyssa thought a moment, tapping her little claws on the table. She picked the color blue and they examined the wheel. 12 sections of alternating colors spun quickly before landing on green (Ignis).

“And there you have it folks! We will be getting our queen’s magic back by making something divine to eat! We will be back after these messages!” Prompto said. The dream faded to black as Prompto woke up with a start.

Prompto picked up his phone to take note of the time. It was a normal time for him to wake up at surprisingly. He got up a bit disoriented as he started getting up for his morning routine.

However, he nearly yelped when he opened the zipper of the tent only to be met with Gentiana waiting for him outside. Luckily she shushed him before he could wake anyone.

“Prompto, your dreams are giving you guidance in this situation. Your new dragon friend is unconsciously giving you and your friends aid on how to help her. Please, see if you and Alyssa can beat the game she provided for you.” Gentiana said, then disappeared.

Prompto decided that the others needed to know about this as soon as possible. He planned to explain the situation once everyone woke up. However, he soon realized that he would need to wake the other two once again after a few hours. Prompto wondered if the shenanigans would happen again, and couldn’t hide his amusement as he entered the tent.

He saw Alyssa already awake when he ducked inside. Noctis tried comically to coax the small dragon off of the top of his head. Prompto couldn’t help but laugh at the display. Oh why didn’t he have his camera in his hands right now?

Once everyone had breakfast, the group chatted about what Prompto discovered about the gameshow dream and what it meant for them.

“Perhaps we should make a special meal tonight?” Ignis suggested. Alyssa’s ears twitched forward in interest.

“But what are we supposed to make?” Noctis asked.

“Maybe it needs to be her favorite meal?” Gladio thought out loud. They all knew that meals could boost their stats, so maybe that would work with their dragon friend? Alyssa made a happy chirp at the mention of favorites.

“Okay, so what can we make that you like?” Prompto asked Alyssa, who had curled up to rest on his lap. Alyssa had a notebook and a pencil on a nearby armrest this time so she could answer questions.

“I’m not a picky eater, but I do really like sweets.” Alyssa wrote. Prompto read the information out loud for the others.

“What kind of treat do you like the most then?” Ignis asked in an amused manner. Alyssa wrote an answer.

“I really like ice cream actually.” She scribbled. Alyssa’s tail swished happily.

“Do you have a favorite flavor?” Noctis asked her. Noctis’ face arranged itself in interest in the idea of ice cream as well.

“I like berries, but I also really like chocolate too.” Alyssa wrote. Prompto read aloud the dragon’s notes each time since he could easily see the notes. Ignis snapped his fingers after thinking for a moment. His expression softened a little as he began looking forward to making the next dish.

A few minutes later after writing a shopping list and packing up camp, the group made the short trek to the Regalia. Most of the supplies were already acquired, but they all soon discovered that the berries were much harder to come across.

“So what do we do now?” Prompto asked. The group made a pit stop to refuel and stretch their cramped up legs from the drive over.

“We should ask around to see if we can find anything about the berries. We don’t know if someone has some to sell or if we have to go out and find them. We have most of the ingredients already.” Ignis sighed.

“Maybe the cook at Galdin Quay knows something? She did mention a dish with berries in it before right?” Gladio said as he crossed his arms in thought.

“I suppose it’s worth a try.” Noctis said with a smile. They all piled back into the car after that. The ride over, with the exception of the wind roaring past their ears from having the top down on the car, was a quiet one. The weather felt clear and sunny! The sun warmed everyone’s skin as it welcomed them.

The calming waves soothed the five friends as the salty air cleared their thoughts. Their feet clicked against the wood of the the long pier on their way to the famous restaurant. They chatted a little with their friend as she worked and found the location of the missing ingredient.

The group told their goodbyes as they headed out of the seaside restaurant. By this time, it was just a bit after midday, but they still had a bit of a drive before they could get the berries.

Conversation lost in the wind passed the drive along, helping the trip feel much faster than it actually was. Alyssa sighed as she became aware of how close the others connected with each other. She felt a bit homesick, but decided to keep it to herself for now. The only one who noticed was Noctis, but he didn’t comment on it.

After a long struggle, the last ingredient acquired, and a short interruption to set up camp as the last of the sun’s rays faded behind rocky cliffs into night, Ignis got to work with the ingredients for the ice cream at last. Alyssa observed quietly as she perched on Ignis’ shoulder. She watched curiously as her tiny mouth watered in anticipation as the scent of the mixture came her way. Noctis had to use ice magic in order to speed up the process of freezing so they could enjoy the treat at a decent hour.

They all started eating the ice cream, but not before admiring Ignis’ handiwork. The treat was purplish red in color and speckled with the seeds from the berries and wrapped up with a quick dip into melted chocolate. A sprig of mint was placed strategically near the popsicle stick for decoration upon serving. Everyone dug into the ice cream at the earliest opportunity then sat in contentment afterward.

“Okay that was the absolute best feeling after a day like today.” Prompto declared happily. Alyssa gave a happy sigh as she finished the last bit of her ice cream. Noctis chuckled a little amused with her antics.

“I think she agrees with you.” Noctis said. Alyssa’s scales seemed to sparkle and glow softly in waves to everyone’s surprise.

“Whoa...What was that?” Gladio asked.

“I suppose the dream seems true then. That looked a lot like when Noctis gathers magic into flasks.” Ignis commented.

“Oh, it really did look like that!” Prompto agreed. Noctis found himself curious, but kept his thoughts to himself in that moment. Once it got late, they all made their way to bed and hoped that tomorrow held another way to help their friend again.

[gray-autumn-sky]

Start of Something New, Chapter 10

@doqweek Day 5- “Teach Me.” When Roland wants to have a family dinner outside on a nice spring day, Regina decides to teach Mal how to make a pie--and things get messy.

For @the-alpha-incipiens who requested flirty cooking with the line “I’ve never been so attracted from you” and the line “you think you’re funny?” from my prompt list. And for @x-wishes-on-fallen-stars-x who suggested meringue. 

Previous installments of this verse can be found HERE.

Roland has quickly learned the benefit of having three parents--the option for majority rule.

It was a warm spring day--one of the first of the year that didn’t require long sleeves or jackets--and Roland was set on eating dinner outside. Regina had been hesitant, reminding him that it wasn’t summer yet and that they’d have to pull the furniture from the garage and clean off the barbeque--and, she’d really hoped to make it all seem more work than it was worth. But Roland had remained excited, and both Mal and Robin readily agreed to it--voicing that it sound like a wonderful idea--and it was two parents against one; so dinner that night would be served on the patio, no matter how much she hated the idea.

Robin had decided on barbecued ribs--and though Regina had done her fair share of grumbling about the whole ordeal, she had to admit that they smelled amazing now that they were on the grill.

Through the window, she watches as Henry and Roland sit at the patio table, chatting with Robin about something she can’t quite make out but seems to amuse them as they peeled potatoes for the potato salad. Mal is standing beside Robin, fiddling with the little burner at the side of the barbeque, trying it get it to ignite so they potatoes could be boiled outside on the patio instead of inside in the kitchen--because according to Roland, it was just more fun that way--and she watches as a bright smile stretches across Mal’s lips when the burner ignites--and a moment later, she sees Mal turn back to the house.

“I suppose if we’re boiling potatoes,” Mal says, entering the kitchen. “We should have something to boil them in.” Regina grins as Mal flips on the water, filling the pot. “This always takes forever…”

“The water?” Regina asks, looking over at her as a chuckle rises into her voice.

“Boiling it.” She sighs. “I don’t know how you and Robin enjoy this.”

“Cooking?”

Mal only sighs in response, tapping her fingers as the pot fills.

“I could teach you…”

Mal blinks as she turns to face her. “Teach me…”

Regina shrugs. “It’d help pass the time,” she murmurs, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of eggs. “I already have the pie crust made and the filling is easy.” She pauses. “We could make the meringue together.”

“Oh…” Mal hesitates as she turns off the water. “I don’t…”

“It’ll be fun,” Regina cuts in, her voice insistent. “Come on.”

A grin curls onto Mal’s lips as she nods. “Let me just go take this out to the boys and… I’ll be back to make meringue.”

A victorious little smile edges onto Regina’s lips as she goes to the cabinet to retrieve the rest of the ingredients. It’s not that Mal doesn’t know how to cook, it’s just that she doesn’t have much experience with it and the recipes in her wheelhouse aren’t all that varied--after all, for most of her life she’d lived in a world so different than the one they lived in now, and after coming to Storybrooke she’d taken a room at Granny’s, and there’d never been much of a reason to learn.

When Mal returns, Regina rubs her hands together, prompting them to get started.

“So, this is actually really easily,” she begins as Mal cocks an eyebrow. “First, we have to separate the egg whites from the egg yolks.”

“And… how exactly does that happen?” Mal blinks, “Aren’t they all… mixed up in there together?”

Regina’s lips purse. “Let me show you.” She cracks an egg and slowly drains one the whites from one half into the other, careful to keep the yoke separate. “See?”

Mal nods, and reaches for one of the eggs. “I… think I might need a little help with that. It looks complicated.”

Regina’s rolls her eyes. “You’re so transparent.”

“What?” Mal feigns. “I’ve never done this before.”

Regina sighs, but nonetheless, reaches around her, holding Mal’s hands in hers. Together, they break the egg and separate it--and she can practically feel Mal’s smile when she leans back into her as they stand almost side-by-side at the counter. Regina reaches for another egg as Mal drops the shells onto the counter--chuckling softly as Regina’s eyes follow the shells--and Regina’s fingers rub at her wrists as she does the next egg and then the next.

“What comes next?”

“Um… well, they have to sit for awhile--that’s how they get so foamy--so we should probably get started on the pie filling.”

“Didn’t you say that’d be quick?”

Regina nods. “It only takes a few minutes.”

“Hm, well, maybe we could… do something else while we wait?”

Regina grins. “The point here is to make a pie.”

“Sure…” Mal agrees as she turns and leans against the edge of the counter. “But I happen to know that you are a very skilled multi-tasker.”

“Am I…”

Mal nods again and this time, her hands find Regina’s waist, pulling her in. Regina can’t help but smile as her eyes fall to Mal’s lips--and then, she takes a breath and turns out of her hold, chuckling softly as a little whimper escapes Mal.

They make the filling and leave it in a bowl, and Regina does her best to ignore the way Mal touches her--soft, feather-like strokes as she pretend to pay attention to Regina’s instructions.

Letting out a long breath, Regina crouches down to retrieve the hand-beaters and shoves them toward Mal. “You’ll like this part,” she insists.

Mal frowns at the appliance. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Leaning onto the tips of her toes, Regina kisses Mal’s cheek. “You beat the eggs, I’ll grab the sugar.”

Mal pouts, but nods, carefully plugging in the beater. She sighs as Regina looks back at her from over her shoulder as she reaches for the bag of sugar--and then, Mal turns the beater on. Regina grins as the egg whites start to fluff--and her grin warms as a surprised smile edges onto Mal’s lips as the eggs begin to fluff.

“Keep mixing while I add the sugar.”

Taking a short breath, Regina begins to add the sugar and free hand slides low on Mal’s back. Mal turns to look at her, her brow arching. “I thought we were making pie.”

“We are,” Regina says, her voice very matter-of-fact. “But you said it yourself, I am a very skilled multi-tasker.” Mal chuckles softly as Regina’s lips slide against her jaw, and she turns, ever so slightly in an attempt to catch her lips--and as she does, her finger pushes down onto the beater’s gauge--and before either of them realizes it, merengue is splattering up from bowl and onto them.

Mal gasps as Regina pulls away, grimacing as she turns off the beater. “Something tells me that that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Regina’s eyes widen as the back door opens--and Robin immediately bursts into a laugh at the sight of them covered in meringue. “Oh,” he murmurs, looking between them as he laughs. “I can honestly say, I’ve never been more attracted to you.”

“You think you’re funny,” Mal spits back, wiping a patch of sticky meringue from her cheek.

Robin continues to laugh as he rounds the counter, pecking both their lips as they try to clean up. “Beautiful and tasty,” he says, looking between them as he leans against the counter. “What ever did I do to get so lucky?”

Both Regina and Mal sigh, audibly annoyed, as they continue to clean up--and then, a grin edges onto Regina’s lips as she reaches into the bowl, smiling triumphantly as she flings the meringue at Robin.