#WHAT ABOUT THE PRIDE YOU FEEL FINALLY GETTING A RECIPE RIGHT

[krispiecake]

you know when you get those adverts for like protein shake meal replacement bullshit products and people say shit like ‘im just so busy with work i never have the time for breakfast or lunch or dinner or snacks, so this horrible brown powder milkshake is a huge life TIMEsaver!’ and ‘its so convenient! i just swallow a glass of tasteless powder to meet my basic vitamin needs and then i have all the time my employer wants from me!’ and then you have to keep watching the unskippable ad only for the person not to become immediately radicalised by what they were just forced to say. I genuinely cannot fathom how people write these scripts, say them out loud, film these videos, edit them and publish them and nobody involved in that process is going insane. are you even listening? are you reading those words? cant you see the exploitation of workers is forcing you to stop performing even the most necessary of tasks like eating real food? and cant you see we have been so convinced that is normal that there are entire businesses and ad campaigns based on it?

food, actual real good normal food, is a human right, but also part of your culture, your family, your community. Its a source of joy, health, fun, love and creativity. please dont let these fucked up companies convince you its just time that could be better spent slaving away for the rich monsters that hold your contract.

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky - theo nott x reader

A tussle over a vial of Felix Felicis proves to be strangely enlightening

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - argh I had a bit of a rough time ending this fic also why do I kind of want a smutty pt 2 to this ahem ahem insufferable!theo when reader loses a bet with him ahem ahem

tropes/warnings - academic rivals, enemies to lovers (ish), cameo by Mattheo (??), fluff, physical touch, slight angst/yearning

word count - 1.6k

Two weeks. For two weeks you had spent every moment of your free time researching and experimenting to get the right recipe for the Draught of the Living Death down. You had seen the way Theodore Nott had perked up at the mention of the curious potion when Slughorn first mentioned the competition. You felt something stir inside you over the gleam in his eye, and that was when you decided that you absolutely had to win it. After all, who couldn't use a little extra luck every now and then? 

And win it you did. Strangely enough, Theo didn't seem to mind as much as he should have. After a superfluous promise to pass you the vial of Felix Felicis the following lesson, Slughorn dismissed the class. But you weren't satisfied, not when you'd realised a glimmer of an inkling of what Theo might be planning. He took off the moment Slughorn finished speaking, and you scrambled to swipe your things into your bag to catch up with him. As expected, you turned the corner and found the Potions storage room's door ajar.

"You know, I expected better of you, Nott."

Theo stilled, his back facing you, before surreptitiously pulling his hand out of his pocket. "You expected that I would be above stealing?"

"Of course not. But I thought you'd have enough dignity not to stoop this low." You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. "Didn't take you to be so sore a loser."

Surprisingly, your appeal to his pride was ineffective. He turned around and stared at you from under his beautiful overly long eyelashes, his lips twisting into a malicious smile.

"Loser? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the term, Tesoro. You see, one, and only one, of us has today's highly coveted prize." His oily smirk widened. "So you'll forgive me if I don't quite feel like I've lost."

Your face flamed with indignation. "That Felix Felicis is mine and you know it."

Theo took on an expression of faux innocence, splaying his deceitfully empty hands. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about."

You finally snapped. It was one thing to have his aggravating dreamy mug haunting your every waking and sleeping moment, and another to have him outright refuse to acknowledge that you had bested him. You hadn't slaved away the past two weeks perfecting your Draught of the Living Death just for him to nick it from the storeroom. No, you had won, fair and square, and it was time someone smacked that into that swollen head of his. 

You lunged at him, shoving a hand into his pocket, taking Theo by surprise. A second later, his hand closed around your wrist For pockets that did not appear excessively large, it was surprisingly difficult to rifle through its contents, especially with Theo's squirming. 

"You always do this," you bit out. "Since first year you've never been able to stand me getting ahead of you."

"Bold of you to assume you've ever gotten ahead of me, mia cara," Theo grunted through gritted teeth, wincing as you doubled your violent efforts.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, give it up already! I won, you lost. Now give me the vial."

"Finder's keepers."

So engrossed were you in your spirited if awkward wrestling that neither of you noticed someone had stopped by the storeroom.

"Uh," Mattheo started, half-conflicted about whether or not he ought to avert his gaze. "I can come back later."

"NO!" The two of you shouted, Theo trying to wrench your arm away, cursing furiously under his breath in Italian while you stubbornly scrabbled for the vial, hooking him in close by his belt loops. Eventually, after a sharp elbow jab to his rib, Theo's grip slackened enough for you to pull the vial out and shove it into your satchel. 

"Knock yourself out," you said breathlessly to a stunned Mattheo, with your uniform slightly askew and a tinge of pink colouring your face. You left briskly before Theo could recover and wandered to the staircase towards your next class, fixing your hair, still trembling from the adrenaline.

You hurried into the Great Hall for lunch once Charms ended, sliding into a seat next to two of your friends already eating.

"Hey, what did I miss?"

Ivy and Katie exchanged a cryptic look. "What didn't you miss?" responded Ivy innocently, tucking into her slice of Shepherd's pot pie nonchalantly. You frowned at Katie, who seemed to be pointedly avoiding your gaze.

"I don't get it. What happened?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone's talking about it."

"Talking about what?"

"You and Theo getting lucky in the Potions storage room."

You choked on your food, earning a few overly aggressive thumps on your back. "I am going to kill Mattheo."

You found him easily enough, pouring over some dull Ancient Runes assignment in the library. He didn't look up as you entered, fuming, but that was quickly remedied by a sharp smack to the back of his head.

"What else was I supposed to think, L/N? You had his hand down his pants, for Salazar's sake."

"In his pants, you idiot," you hissed. "In, as in his pockets. Didn't the scuffling and the fighting give it away?"

"I don't know," Mattheo said doubtfully, "it's a bit hazy how much actual fighting was going on. If I didn't know any better, and I don't, I'd say I was interrupting a little...something."

You glared at him. "He was trying to stop me from invading his pockets. There was nothing but fighting."

"Right," Mattheo said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because if there were one person stronger than a goddamn Quidditch player, it would be you. Because that's obviously more plausible than the idea that he might just like you feeling him up."

You faltered, and Mattheo took the chance to scoop up his books and leave. "I wasn't feeling him up," you muttered half-heartedly, but he was long gone. And it was true. At no point were your actions motivated by anything other than a righteous desire to reclaim what was yours. But you'd be lying if you said that your mind hadn't wandered, if only for a split second, to what it would be like to be in that exact position under very different circumstances. But it was only inevitable, with the pressing against the hard muscle underneath the coarse fabric and the illicit feeling of running your hands along the most intimate part of his trousers. You groaned, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to erase the memory.

You left the library soon after Mattheo, turning your thoughts around and around in your head.

"You let me have the Felix Felicis."

It wasn't a question as much as a statement of fact. Other than a glance towards you, Theo showed no sign of acknowledging you. He kept that irritatingly cool expression, gazing out at the setting sun and the idyllic sight of the Hogwarts grounds bathed in a soft, liquid golden glow. You joined him at the observation point, your gazes parallel to each other's.

"I don't understand. Why steal it in the first place, then?"

"Why do you even want it?"

You cast your mind around fruitlessly. "It's...it's luck in a bottle. Who wouldn't want it?"

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Theo tilted his head, considering her with his unfairly piercing gaze. "You like getting ahead of me. You like that you have something I want." 

You tried to ignore the way your hair was sticking to the back of what you were sure was your very flushed neck. "So you agree? " you asked, in a voice that sounded braver than you felt. "I get ahead of you?"

A small, almost genuine-looking smile flitted across his face. "On occasion." He turned to face you fully now, his smile turning cocky. 

"Is that where you get off? Being the object of my undivided attention?"

"You wish." You stuck your chin out defiantly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. "Is that where you get off? All those ironic Italian pet names?"

Theo hesitated, blinking, like that was the last thing he expected you to bring up. "Right," he muttered, "ironic."

"So I think it's only fair," you continued, oblivious to the flicker in his expression, "that we call it even. At least for today."

Theo shrugged. "If you say so, mi - L/N."

You nodded, a little taken aback by how easy that was. Now what were you supposed to do? Leave, probably. But for some reason, your feet stayed rooted to the ground. Something compels you to stand there and trace the outline of his face as the setting sun throws harsh yet delicious shadows over the contours of his face.

"Is there something else you wanted?" Theo probes gently, as if he's almost as curious as you.

So much, you want to say, and the crushing weight of the sudden realisation almost knocks the air out of your lungs. All you could think about was how much you never wanted to stop looking and looking and looking at his beautiful face. Where was all this want coming from, and what on Earth were you supposed to do with it?

"No," you say in a small voice. "Nothing at all."

Part 2

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - vu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 1

wc: 4512

a/n: lmk if u want a pu ver pls <3 if there's part i forgot to make gender neutral pls lmk!!

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan had no idea what to do. he'd never been in this position before. he prided himself in being a good friend and specially boyfriend. nothing in this world mattered to him more than his loved ones, which was why he was extremely disappointed in himself at having disregarded you and hurt your feelings in such a careless way. he knew it was your birthday, and he had wanted so badly to be with you, but he had been an idiot and let it slip his mind. there was no other way to put it. it made him sad more than anything, to know that you had spent the night worried over him only to wake up to zero communication from him, having spent a good 14 hours into your birthday without any word from him. he needed to fix this, he just didnt know how.

this was so unlike him. jeonghan had always known himself to be an attentive person. he noticed any time you changed your hair almost immediately, he'd notice new additions to your recipes, he'd take note of any time you switched things up in your apartment, he'd remember any and every important date. even now. he had remembered it, except he had skipped over it due to his idiocy, which really only made it worse.

after getting mocked by joshua for ten minutes as he racked his brain to find a solution, he decided to just improvise. he'd go to your apartment and see if you'd at least let him in to try and explain his way through an apology. he would pull all the dramatics if he had to. there was not a single care for his dignity in his mind right now. nothing would prevent him from showing you his utmost remorse.

only thirty minutes later and he was now outside your apartment window, looking up from his secluded spot inside the complex's garden. he pondered about calling you, but decided that going for a more unconventional route might do the trick a bit better. spotting some pebbles nearby, he grabbed a few, beginning to chuck them at your window. okay, kind of corny, but knowing you, he knew you'd appreciate the thought. he spent an unfortunate ten minutes throwing pebble after pebble until you finally opened your window, sticking your head out as soon as you spotted him down below.

"jeonghan. what the hell are you doing?", you seemed and sounded pissed. but, hey! that was a good sign. at least you were acknowledging his presence.

"my love!', he clutched at his heart, 'let me come see you. please. i want to apologize."

"fuck you, yoon jeonghan. why dont you go treat your hangover somewhere else?", you went to close your window, only to stop in your tracks as he yelled out again.

"wait! do you want me to beg? i will. i love you. i dont care what i have to do. i'll climb to the roof and profess my love for you for all of seoul to hear," yes, he was being overly dramatic, but he was also being genuine. if you actually wanted him to scream out to the world how much he regretted his stupidity, he would. you didnt even have to ask.

but he also knew public displays were a huge no for you, dating an idol and knowing the controversies being known as the significant other of the yoon jeonghan would bring. he was putting you in a bit of a spot. you could either let him up to apologize, or wake up to some ominous article stating yoon jeonghan of seventeen might be taken.

fortunately for him, you chose the former, which now placed him in your living room as you crossed your arms and huffed at him. okay, one step at a time. it was time to put jokes aside and get serious.

"angel ... i'm so sorry," he cooed at you, stepping forward a bit.

"jeonghan, dont talk to me like im a baby. im not in the mood."

"but you are my baby," he pouted at you, "you're my angel, my everything. i'm sorry. i didnt show you how much you mean to me last night. all i want to do is love you and take care of you. you can punish me all you want. i deserve it. but please let me sleep in your arms. im already away from you most of the time. dont deprive me one more day," and he meant all he said. you were his favorite form of comfort, and the thought of you being angry or hurt by him made him scared. he never wanted to risk you being ripped away from his arms, specially not due to his own doing.

"jeonghan ..."

"no, wait. i'm sorry. i shouldve never forgotten. i dont know how it happened. all i ever want to do every day is come back home to you, but i did the opposite on the worst day possible. i'll apologize over and over until you forgive me if that's what it takes. please just let me be with you on your birthday. i dont want you alone. i dont want you sad. i want you happy and content in my arms. please? i love you."

he mustve broken you down, as you landed in his arms immediately after he finished his speech. he couldve sworn he saw you eyes puffy and swollen before he wrapped his arms around you. his suspicion was confirmed just seconds later when he heard you sniffle against him.

"aigooo, no angel. dont cry. didnt wanna make you cry. you're making me look like such a bad guy, baby, making you cry on your birthday," he cooed at you as he held you as tight as possible.

you separated yourself from him, finally looking into his eyes while he caressed your cheeks, wiping any lone tears in them, "im so sorry, angel. forgive me? let me stay, please."

"yes, hannie. i love you."

"i love you so much more," and he'd spend the rest of his life the day showing that to you.

joshua -

joshua had not been this hungover in a while. he wasnt sure how this happened. last thing he remembered was his manager rushing him into a car right after the award show, letting the group know they'd been invited to an after party, and the company had deemed it smart to be in attendance for public image purposes. all members agreed enthusiastically, excited to mingle among their peers and maybe make some new connections in the process. joshua had been the lone member to be skeptical, knowing he had promised he'd be back to the hotel at an appropriate time in order to get on the phone with you and celebrate what was remaining of your birthday with you despite the current distance between you. however, he did not want to get in the way of his members' fun, so he kept any objections to himself and joined them with matching enthusiasm.

his original plan was to roam the party for an hour or so, which wouldve allowed him to get back to call you on time, but ironically, time got away from him. the next thing he knew, he was waking up at 11am in the morning in mingyu's hotel room, head pounding and phone full of unread notifications. he wasnt sure how this happened. the last thing he remembered was being at the party, margarita in hand as he and his members drank their souls away in celebration of yet another successful award show season. it was around three margaritas in that joshua had begun to disregard his phone, and with that you as well. as soon as he saw the dejection in your messages upon waking up, he spammed you with texts and voice memos expressing his regret, but received no response from you. he had hurt you and now you were ignoring him. and with good reason.

joshua knew that there wasnt much he could do from his current location, specially while you were (justifiably) icing him out. so he committed to his next best option. he immediately booked a ticket back to korea, letting his manager know that he'd just be returning home two days in advance to the rest of the members. all they had scheduled left was an interview tomorrow, so his absence would probably not have that big of an effect. five grueling hours later and he arrived to korea, exhausted and still slightly hung over, but with a whole speech planned to beg for your forgiveness.

in the process, he had tried calling you again and again, still earning no response. this disheartened him, making him think that maybe his grand gesture would only be taken negatively. he picked up some flowers on the way, gift he had bought in japan a few days ago in hand, ready to knock on your apartment door. despite the exhaustion, he was here. a day late to celebrate your birthday, but still here nonetheless.

your face upon answering the door had been of surprise, not anger like he feared, but that only lasted for a few seconds until you started to berate him.

"joshua? what are you doing here?"

"baby, i'm so so sorry. can i come in? please?"

you moved aside without further words, gesturing for him to continue talking.

he suddenly remembered the flowers and boxed gift in hand, signaling to them before handing them to you, "oh, these are for you," he felt extremely inadequate, something that was very rare for him. he had practiced a whole speech, a whole profession of love and regret, but now his mind was blank. you just looked so. disappointed. he couldn't stand it.

'i'm sorry. i- i have no good excuse. the party got the best of me and i completely spaced out on our plans. i never meant to forget about you. please believe me.'

"joshua ... this was your idea. you had me waiting all night just to ghost me. you spent my birthday partying without even thinking of me."

he grabbed onto your hands, placing the flowers and gift on the table before doing so. he held onto you as he began to get exasperated in his speech, "there's no world in which i wasn't thinking of you. you're all thats ever on my mind. i didnt even wanna go to that stupid party, but i didnt want to inconvenience anyone. please, i- i wanted to call you. i ... yeah, i got drunk and distracted. and thats my fault. im sorry. i came back early to be with you. to make up for being a dumbass. please let me make it up to you. please? i'll serenade you like i promised. i'll get on my knees. do you want me to get on my-"

you interrupted him as he began to kneel halfway through his speech, slapping at him lightheartedly as he began to get more dramatic by the second. he knew it was hard for you to get angry at him when he started pulling all stops like he did. he came back and begged on his knees, even offered to express his love to you through song. he was making you hold in your laugh. these were all good signs, right?

"you .. you're such an idiot, hong jisoo. i hate you," but he knew you didnt mean it. he could hear and see the smile on your face, knowing he had been successful at wearing you down.

"if you ever do this again, ill date jeonghan instead."

"ouch!", he dramatically grabbed onto his chest, as if you'd just wounded his heart, causing you to laugh, "hannie? okay, can't blame you. he's pretty cute," he chuckled, "but for now ... let me spend the day with my love? hmm?", he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose against yours as you feigned annoyance at him.

"fine," you rolled your eyes, "i'm still mad at you, though."

yeah, he had a lot of making up to do, but this was a start.

jihoon -

jihoon had not stopped beating himself up over his actions ever since you hung up the phone. he had spent the entirety of the day rethinking all his choices leading up to this. he had wanted to go running to you and apologize, but you had specifically asked him to stay away, so he wanted to respect your wishes. still, he felt like complete and utter shit at the way he disregarded you so easily. he wished he could go back in time and slap some sense into himself.

he had always been scared. scared that his job would someday get in the way of your relationship. it had been so hard for him to find someone to love; someone who loved him just as much. and the moment he found you he treasured you more than anything, but now his stupid workaholic tendencies had gotten in the way. he was terrified right now that you'd start to see the error in your choice to be with him. that you'd want to find someone who wouldnt so easily put his job over everything else.

it was now 11am of the following day, and you had not called him yet. he was beginning to get worried. were you icing him out? had he hurt you that badly? he could never blame you for feeling hurt at his neglect, but he could also not help his own feelings of dejection at you ignoring him due to your anger. alas, he still gave you all reason; this had been his own doing.

he waited a couple hours before giving up on waiting, instead choosing to confide in a few of his members to inquire as to what they'd do if they ever pulled something like this with their own significant others. after being scolded for a good few minutes due to his carelessness towards you, they told him that maybe showing up to your apartment as a demonstration of his affection to you (joined by a sincere apology, of course) would make you look his way again.

so now he was here, about to knock on your door with your favorite flowers in hand. he was terrified. the two of you had never fought. there had never been a single time in which you'd hurt each other's feelings. it had all been nothing but love and tenderness in your relationship thus far. he was your best friend, and you were his. yet he had no idea how to communicate to you how much you meant to him, and how much of a stupid mistake his slip up had been.

before he could think further, he forced himself to knock on your door, hoping you wouldnt immediately throw him out. to his surprise, you opened the door and even wordlessly gestured for him to enter. you looked ... sad. you looked the way he'd feel had you ghosted him on his own birthday. yeah, he didnt care much for his birthday, but your absence would wound him nonetheless. he imagined it felt the same for you.

"i ... i'm so sorry. i dont know what to say .. i- i fucked up. so badly. i have no idea how or why i forgot. there's nothing i can do to make up for it, but please know im so fucking sorry."

"jihoon ... how? you picked my birthday of all days to lock yourself in your studio? i've never judged your busy schedule. i understand your career. i respect it. i get that you cant help being busy. your job is too demanding of your time, but for you to ignore me when you had full control of your free time? why?", he could see how disappointed you felt at his neglect; how hurt you felt at him, not only through your words, but through your closed off body language. you were hugging yourself with your arms, not holding eye contact as you stared anywhere but into his eyes. despite your confident words, your demeanor was deflated. and it was his fault.

"it was- it was a mistake. it was all my fault. i cant argue my way around it. but i love you. i didnt .. i didnt mean to neglect you. you're all i think about. every song ive ever written, even before meeting you, was about you. you're everything. i'm just an idiot. i dont know how to do this ... ive never loved like this. i have no idea what to do when i fuck up. all i can do is promise you to be better. please give me a chance to be better. i'll be more attentive. i know i'm cold, and im not too affectionate, but i love you. i'll make it up to you. please, just dont let this be the end. i'll keep you in my studio with me whenever i lock myself away. won't ever go a day without letting you know what im doing, how im doing. please. i'll do anything to show you."

he worried his ramble mightve been too much, feeling to scared to even hold eye contact with you as he went on and on about how much he loved you. unexpectedly, upon looking up, he found your reddened eyes, with a stuffy nose to match. fuck. had he hurt your feelings again?

"jihoon ... i- i love you. i'm sorry. i cant believe you could ever think i wanted this to be the end. i was hurt and mad- i am hurt, but i love you," you sniffled your way through your short speech, but jihoon heard it perfectly fine. these were the words he prayed to hear from you all of last night as he stayed up thinking about you.

"fuck. thank god," he couldnt help himself in hugging you, holding you tightly against his arms, and sighing in relief at your reciprocation, "i love you. i'll take the week off. let me take you away and show you how much you mean to me. please? will you come with me?"

"yes, jihoon. i love you."

"i love you. you have no idea."

seokmin -

seokmin felt extremely scared. you weren't answering any of his calls. he knew you were physically okay, but he also knew your feelings were hurt, and you were probably extremely angry at him. you had all reason to be angry at him. he ditched you and kept you in the dark all day. on your birthday! seokmin had never been in a situation like this before. he had always prided himself in being the best boyfriend that one could ever be, even sometimes introducing himself as your boyfriend instead of with his own name. except today he had disappointed both you and himself beyond belief.

he knew you'd asked him to stay away for the night, and he'd usually respect your one and every wish, but today he needed to go against the current and go and beg for your forgiveness.

in very non-seokmin fashion, he exited the event just as quickly as he'd arrived, not even caring to say goodbye to his friends. you were his number one priority, after all. specially today of all days. he had his driver stop by a flower shop on the way, hoping the innocent gesture would maybe have you show some mercy on his stupidity.

he showed up to your apartment immediately after, having mentally prepared a whole speech for you on the way there. he was going to tell you how much he loved you, and how this was just a completely stupid slip of his mind, that this would never happen again, but all these thoughts left his mind as soon as you opened the door, eyes swollen and glossy. every rational thought went out the window upon spotting your saddened state causing seokmin's eyes to match your own as he felt himself begin to tear up. he couldnt help himself in immediately embracing you in a tight hug, thanking god when he felt you hold him back.

you two sniffled against each other for a bit, neither of you full on crying, but still being overly emotional at the situation. seokmin mumbled endless apologies against your hair, running his hands up and down your back as if to soothe you. he was over the moon to hear an 'i love you' from you in the middle of your sorrowful mumbles against his chest, doubling the sentiment as he cried to you how much he loved you and how badly he regretted letting you slip his mind for even a second. when he pulled back, he expressed the same sentiment all over again.

"my baby ... i love you so much. please let me make it up to you. i- i brought you flowers!", he finally recalled the flowers he had dropped as soon as you closed the door behind him ten minutes ago, "i know it doesnt make up for anything, but please let it be a start. i'll do anything you want. just want you to never cry over me like this again, baby. i love you too much to make you cry," he wiped at your tears as he said this, caressing your cheeks while he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

"minnie," you pouted at him, "stay the night? please? want you at least for the bit that's left of today."

"today? oh, baby. i'm giving you my whole week. told you i was gonna make it up to you. i'll do everything you want, my love. now let me take you to bed, yeah? wanna hold my beautiful angel to sleep."

he slept soundly that night, knowing you had somehow forgiven him and even given him the privilege to hold you in his sleep, also knowing he'd do anything and everything necessary to make up for his stupid mistake.

seungkwan -

he had put literally everyone else above you. on your birthday. there was truly no other way to spin it. he had never felt more guilt in his life, and it was all completely on him. having even thought of going out with his friends on your birthday shouldve given him the first red flag in his stupid plan. why didnt he just bring you along? god, he was such an idiot. and then allowing mingyu and dongmin to entice him into a two hour long live broadcast just to secure some fanservice was just the nail in the coffin.

he knew he hurt you badly. he had promised you he'd be there, but had just left you in the dark all day. he couldnt blame you for not wanting to see him today, but now he was stuck tossing and turning in his bed as he itched to hold you in his arms. he had called the company immediately after your call, letting them know he'd be skipping the usual dance practice and recordings in favor of being with you, which is what he should've done all day today.

it wasnt long until he grew too restless to simply stay in bed while he knew you were probably in a similar position, except most likely sad and angry. he couldnt help himself when he decided to head to you, feeling bad at calling up his driver at such late hours of the night. the journey to your apartment was a short one, which left him with little time to think over what he'd say to you in order to convey his regret. he didnt care much for what he said, he just wanted to alleviate your hurt somehow.

just as he expected, you were awake, now standing in front of him as you opened the door to your apartment. your eyes were puffy, a huge indicator that you'd been crying. your eyes also wouldnt meet his, with your eyebrows lowered in clear sadness. seeing you and knowing your current state was his fault felt like a kick in the gut. he had never made you cry before, so he was extremely disappointed in himself. worst of all, seeing you cry made him start to tear up a bit himself.

"baby ..."

"what do you want, kwan? i thought you were busy all day," your words carried venom behind them, but your delivery was still of someone who had been hurt.

"no, baby. you know that's not true. i'm never too busy for you. i'm so sorry. i was such an idiot. there arent enough apologies i could give you. i- i never meant to hurt your feelings."

"you still did."

"i ... i know. i'm sorry. i love you. the last thing i ever want is for you to be hurt by me. i never shouldve gone out with my friends to begin with. you're too understanding of my busy schedule, and i dont deserve it. i shouldve made time all day for you today."

"was ... was it that important? being gone today specifically?", you seemed insecure in your question, which only made seungkwan's heart soar at making you feel insecure around him in any way.

"no! no, of course not. i wasnt thinking. i shouldve told them id go with them next time, or taken you with me! i was so stupid, i'm sorry. you're my priority. i need you to know that."

"it's- it's fine, kwannie. i understand. you dont see your friends that often, you-"

"no! stop. dont try to rationalize it. i made a mistake. you dont have to cover for me. i hurt you and i made you feel unimportant when you're the most important person to me. im so sorry. please never doubt that. i get you all to myself so little, and staying away from you was such a stupid mistake."

more tears had started flowing down your cheeks the further the conversation went on. he wasnt sure if it was because you were touched by his words, or because he was failing at making you feel better. as he neared you enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs, he hoped it was the former.

"baby .. don't cry over me. please. i'm just an idiot. you should never cry over me. i only ever want you to feel good things when thinking of me. i- im so sorry."

"kwannie ... i love you. i understand. i know you dont want me to understand, but i do. you have to make your choices when you're as busy as you are, and .. even though it did make me feel unimportant, i get it."

"it'll never happen again. i'll- i'll keep you by my side day and night. let me- please let me keep you to myself tomorrow. just wanna be with you. please?"

for the first time in the night, he saw you shoot him a small smile, uttering the words he wanted to hear most, "yes, kwannie. will you .. will you stay? please"

"you don't even have to ask."

a/n: thank u to everyone who enjoyed this lil series aaaa i hope it was realistic enough T-T sorry if the reconciliation seemed rushed, i just didnt want any of them to end up with an angsty ending hehe also sorry for seokmin's being shorter than anyone's i just cannot imagine that man ever hurting anyone's feelings.

[infiniteimaginings]

I would like a x reader oneshot request for Ray Manchester/Captain Man❤️ from- Henry Danger (I was wondering if you needed a plot and details for the request)

Hard to say (Ray Manchester x GN!Reader)

Summary: Ray has kept the secret of being Captain Man from you, your entire relationship. The feeling of wanting to tell you gets gradually bigger until he's panicking, begging his friends for help on what to do. Is he going to tell you, or is he going to keep his biggest secret to himself? Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: None Word Count: 2.9k A/N: Happy Valentines Day!

It was mid afternoon on a beautiful Saturday in Swellview, within one of the homes the sunlight shined through the windows. The lights weren’t on because the sun was enough for those in the home, that’s why their windows were open.

Ray Manchester was the one who owned the home, he was sitting at his bar attached to the kitchen. His partner of about a year sat in one of the bar stools next to him, that partner was you.

Ray clicked his teeth and turned his whole body to face you, “Why were you so sarcastic about that?” He asked, leaning on the counter as you gently chuckled. 

You shook your head, “I’m just saying,” You began, turning and facing him as he did to you, “it’s a very difficult recipe and..” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. Ray stood up and pointed at you with a smile of disbelief, “You don’t think I can do it!” He accused with amusement in his eyes. You turned your seat around fully and crossed your arms, leaning back onto the counter as you sighed. You eventually nodded, “You’re right, I don’t think you can do it.” You spoke bluntly, to which Ray's jaw dropped. He stood up straight and walked around the short corner to be across the counter from you into the kitchen. He began grabbing pots and pans, “I’ve seen it made all the time, it’s easy.” Ray claimed, his voice echoing from the cabinet. 

Pots and pans were clanging as he set up his area. You looked over the counter with a raised brow to him as he was grabbing a few ingredients. You smiled and shook your head at him, “It’s one of the hardest recipes for people to follow.” You told him hands drumming the countertop. Ray stood up, his hands on his hips in pride, “Beef Wellington is not that hard.” He told you, leaning on his hands against the counter, “I could even do it from memory.” He claimed, to which you broke out into laughter. You held your stomach, “No you can not.” You told him, your laugh causing your words to be a little higher pitched. Ray watched you with an unimpressed expression, but he eventually broke out into a smile due to you doubling down in laughter. He crossed his arms, “I am positive I can.” He continued on with the topic, stepping back to lean on the stovetop instead. You finally collected yourself and looked at him, wiping a tear from your eye. You smiled gently at him, light gleaming through your eyes causing his posture to relax, gazing into your eyes was his favorite thing to do. You inhaled, eyes filled with adoration, “I am confident you can’t.” You told him gently, the comment causing Ray to poke his cheek with his tongue.

A few moments later Ray stood in the kitchen with an apron on that said ‘Kiss the Chef’, he loved corny clothing like that. He had a multitude of ingredients around him as well as pots and pans. You were sitting at the bar still, leaning on your crossed arms, shaking your head as you pulled out your phone. You took a few pictures of him working for later, just to see the before and after of the kitchen. 

Ray was so focused in the kitchen, trying his best to make it from memory, immediately messing up. You hummed, “Isn’t it supposed to be brown on both sides?” You teased and he grumbled slightly, “Shh.” He shushed you, flipping the meat in the olive oil, “I need to focus.” He spoke, continuing to cook. There were times he realized he forgot an ingredient and rushed to the fridge and chopping board so the meat wouldn’t burn. He struggled with the plastic wrap for the meat, forgot what to season it with, and other things. You weren’t upset, you weren’t laughing at him, you just admired how he was so confident in his skills. You smiled at him, occasionally telling him where things were like the mushrooms and the onions so he could chop them up, wiped his face and helped him rinse his eyes when the onions got too much, etc.

He was covered in sweat, breathing heavily as placed his creation into the oven. He closed the oven and sighed, looking at all the dirty dishes and the extra pieces of food on the floor. He looked up at you, “I’ll clean it.” He told you, giving you a lopsided smile. You rolled your eyes playfully, getting up from your seat and walking to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him slightly, “It’s okay, you can take a shower and I’ll clean up here.” You explained. He had worked for a few hours to make a delicious meal for you guys, even if the recipe wasn’t done correctly. He deserved to take a break. His eyes gently softened as he leaned down a bit and rubbed your noses together, “Thank you.” He whispered, hands raising to cup your face.

When he looked into your eyes he paused, searching your eyes for something you were unsure of. He bit the inside of his cheek, taking a deep breath, “I need to tell you something.” He said, holding you close to him, his hands still cupping your cheeks. You nodded, this felt like an intense moment to you, the air felt thick, you weren’t sure why. He sighed, “I…” He paused as your eyelashes fluttered slightly to him. A smile graced his features, though it was slightly weak, “I just love you so much.” He whispered to you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours, enjoying the soft feeling of your lips against his. When the two of you pulled away you batted your eyelashes, scrunching your nose, “I love you too.” You spoke, pulling out of his grasp. “Go ahead and shower, I got this.” You said, beginning to put the pots and pans into the sink to wash them. Ray walked to the bathroom, looking back at you for a moment with a dejected look, but you didn’t notice.

The next day Ray kissed you gently before pulling back, “I got called into work today, so I won’t be back until later.” Ray told you to which you nodded, “Okay, have fun! Tell Henry and them that I said hi.” You told him, smiling gently as you turned your attention back to your show. He nodded and walked out the door to Junk N’ Stuff.

Once he arrived at the store, he walked past the front portion of the store and went straight to the elevator in the back, standing without his typical smile. The elevator plummeted to the very bottom layer it could reach, Ray was not affected by such a drop. The elevator doors opened and exposed Captain man's secret headquarters, the man cave. Rays man cave. There was a large platform that dropped tubed, a large half circle couch, and a computer area with multiple screens on the walls. 

Three teenagers were in the mancave. A girl with brown skin and curly black hair was typing on the computers, her name was Charlotte. A boy with pale skin and brown hair was pulling something out of the microwave in the wall, his name was Jasper. The last teenager was laying on the half circle couch, typing away on his phone. He had pale skin and blondish brown hair, it was far lighter than Jaspers. This specific teenager was Henry, or also known as Kid Danger, Captain Mans sidekick.

The teens all turned their heads to Ray walking out the elevator, greeting the man who waved back. Ray smiled weakly and put his hand up to wave, “Hey guys, I know I’m-” He was cut off by Charlotte who stood up from the computers, “Late? Yeah, it’s fine. We know you were at home with them.” Charlotte spoke, referring to you as she went and sat next to Henry, Jasper doing the same. Jasper made a few kissing noises, immediately stopping when Ray gave him a bored look. Ray sat on the other side of the couch, rolling his slightly, “They said hi, by the way.” He mumbled leaning back in the seat, clearly distracted. Henry aww’d and smiled, “They’re sweet.” He told the man, putting his phone in his back pocket. Ray sighed at the comment, “Yeah…” He trailed off, “They are.” He said, looking at his knees. The teens all looked at each other, “WHy’d you say it like that?” Jasper asked, Henry bumping his shoulder slightly and correcting the sentence, “What’s wrong?” Henry asked appropriately. 

Ray contemplated telling them because ultimately deciding to, “I want to tell them I’m captain man.” He spoke quickly, biting the inside of his cheek, a bad habit of his. The teens eyes widened, Charlotte shifted a bit, “That’s a huge step.” She told him gently and he nodded. “I know.” Ray told them, looking down before looking back to the three genuinely, “But, I want them to know. I don’t want to keep anything from them.” He explained, clasping his hands. The three understood that, they did, honestly. Jasper took a bite of his food a bit, “Then just tell them.” He said simply, the words a bit muffled due to him having taken a bite out of his food. Rays blew air into his cheeks and then pursed his lips, “I’ve been trying to tell them for weeks.” He admitted, playing with his thumbs. Henry tilted his head, leaning forward, “How’s that going for you?” He asked and Ray immediately answered,  “Awful!” He yelled out, putting his face in his hands. He took his face out of his hands, still looking down, “I’ve tried so many time, like last month..” He spoke moving his hands around a bit.

It was late in the night, you and Ray were in bed cuddling as you watched some movie randomly put on. Ray was gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm as you struggled to stay awake. He looked at the screen then to you, you were cuddled up on his chest, your eyes closed. He inhaled, he decided he would tell you now, he didn’t want to wait any longer, he didn’t want to keep the secret anymore. “Hey…” He whispered, you stirred a bit and he chuckled quietly, the rumble of his laughter vibrating from his chest, causing your eyes to slightly flutter open. You hummed a bit in response, your eyes closing once again, “Are you asleep?” He asked you, smiling gently since he already knew what the answer would be and you shook your head slightly, even though you were falling asleep. He pulled the blanket up over you more and kissed the top of your head, “Goodnight sweetheart.” He mumbled to you instead of expressing his secret. He held you a little longer, telling himself he was going to hold on to his secret a little longer.

Ray continued telling the three teenagers of moments he tried telling you about his secret. He was bouncing his leg, “I tried a few weeks ago…” He spoke.

The two of you sat across from each other at the dining table. A vase of flowers was on it, along with a candle, and two plates of your favorite dinner. Ray had taken the time to clean and cook for you, leading you to the table. Tears sprung in your eyes as you sniffled, smiling at the gesture. You kissed him sweetly before sitting down, him sitting across from you. He held his hand out, wanting to hold your hand to which you made his dream come true and put your soft hand into his. He looked into your eyes, looking at you, adoring you. He thought ‘Now is the perfect moment.’ He repeated the thought in his head for a few times but, when you smiled at him he just couldn’t do it. He kept his smile on his face, “You look incredible.” He whispered to you, causing you to giggle slightly.

Ray leaned back in the seat with a grumble, “Yesterday, when I made us dinner.” He groaned, unsure of what to do. The teens all felt sorry for the man, unsure of what to say. Ray sat up, looking straight to his sidekick, “Henry, you’ve told a bunch of people, how did you do it?” He asked desperately, his hands sweating. Henry put his hands up in surrender, “Woah.” The boy spoke, slight offense in his tone. Charlotte put Henry's hands down, “In his defense he didn’t mean to tell any of us.” She spoke, referring to her, Jasper, and Henry's little sister Piper. Henry nodded, “Yeah, I don’t tell people, they just find out.” Henry shrugged, standing up and wiping his jeans, Ray following Henry as he walked to the middle of the room.

Rays eyes were filled with desperation, “Please, I need to know how to tell them.” He begged, causing the other teens to follow. Jasper had long finished his food before he began to speak, ”Why haven’t you told them already? Haven’t you guys been dating for like a year?” He asked genuinely, unsure of why he’s kept the secret for so long. Ray paused, trying to find the words, hands moving around each other. “It’s a hard thing to say, it’s been…” He spoke, pausing, unsure of how to describe it. Henry saw a glint in his eyes and understood what he meant, “Comfortable? Peaceful?” Henry asked him to which Ray nodded. “It’s been nice.” The older man said, “If I tell them I’m a superhero, what if they think it’s too much, what if we break up, what if…” He paused, looking down and hugging himself, “what if I put them in danger?” He asked quietly. 

Charlotte walked up closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “That’s the risk you have to take.” She spoke gently, “What happens if they aren’t aware of your status and someone finds out that they are your weakness?” She asked him and Ray couldn’t find an answer, but the idea made him even more anxious. Charlotte noticed this and gently shook him, “They should at least know, I’m sure they’ll understand, they love you.” She reminded him, causing Ray to let out a huge breath he was holding, nodding a bit. Henry entered the conversation once more, “Just be honest,” He began, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I mean I was honest with them after they found out, they would've been more upset if I lied.” He spoke, Charlotte and Jasper nodding along with his words. Ray understood their advice and overall excused himself, going home to you.

He returned home earlier than you expected so you greeted him with open arms, telling him about the movie you were watching. Ray made himself comfortable on the couch with you, you leaning on him as his arm was around your shoulders. He looked down at you, the light of the movie reflecting in your eyes,  a small smile on your face. You were warm to him, your body heat making him feel a little more relaxed. His hand found yours and he rubbed your soft skin with his thumb, leaning his head on yours. You were focused on the movie but he was entirely focused on you.

Ray flickered his gaze to the movie before saying, “I’m Captain Man.” 

You were so engrossed into the movie to the point you didn’t hear what he said, you heard his voice, you just didn’t catch the words. You lifted your head and looked at him, “What’d you say?” You asked gently, unaware of how nervous that question made him. Ray positioned himself to be able to look at you in your eyes, “I’m Captain Man.” He repeated seriously, his thumb no longer stroking your hand. You chuckled a bit, “Yeah, sure.” You spoke with a smile on your face. You soon noticed, he wasn’t laughing. Your brows furrowed, “You’re not joking.” You realized aloud, he darted his gaze away from you, arm still wrapped around you. Ray swallowed the lump in his throat, looking back at you, pushing his fingers through his hair, “I am Captain Man and every time I’ve been home late it’s because,” You cut him off, “You’ve been saving the Swellview with Kid Danger who is…Henry?.” Youasked, connecting the pieces and biting your lip. Ray nodded, his heart beating harshly in his chest, he could hear it in his ears, so loud he felt he could barely hear you. 

He pulled out a tube of red blue and silver gum balls and you looked at it curiously. “This is what changes me into Captain Man.” Ray continued, letting you hold it. You didn’t speak for a moment so Ray felt he had to explain even more, “I didn’t want to keep it from you, but if this makes you feel-” “I’m glad you told me.” You spoke, cutting him off once again, looking at him gently. “I’m glad you told me.” You repeated, giving him back his gum and hugging him gently. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, sighing in relief, “I’m glad you’re with me.” He whispered to you, rubbing your back gently.

[spaloonbabooguuscooties]

You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.

half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.

so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff

SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-

but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.

and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.

theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.

elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling

like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be

and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.

and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.

“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”

and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me

and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave

because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.

and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.

and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.

and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO

elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.

and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.

and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.

but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.

so now comes this.

because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.

and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.

anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman

sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !

[ethereal-writes]

Toy Jail (Ft. Lucifer and GN! MC)

Warnings: Romantic relationship

Length: 0.8k words

Genre: Fluff, slight hurt/comfort

A/N: Whoah! First fic in how long? What’s even more wild, I wrote this and am posting it on the same day! And even wilder? It’s Lucifer centric! I’m super excited to start posting again.

As always, if I’ve missed any warnings, please feel free to let me know! Enjoy!

-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer sighed, hanging up his coat. He had finally made it back to the House of Lamentation after a long day of the usual nonsense.

The day had started off relatively calm. He’d spent the first part of his morning in your room, working on his paperwork. His own desk was entirely covered in papers he had yet to even start, so working there would have been virtually impossible. Besides, he didn’t mind spending time with you anyway.

Then it had all gone downhill. He’d been forced to intervene in his brother’s shenanigans once again when he started hearing explosions from the kitchen— they had been trying to follow a recipe exploding cheesecake. Seriously? Why had they thought that was a good idea in the first place?

After he’d dealt with that, Lord Diavolo contacted him, letting know he had some more work for him to pick up. So, off Lucifer had gone to pick it up. At least these papers wouldn’t need to be high on his priority list.

He arrived back home just in time to diffuse a massive brawl between Levi and Mammon. Something about Mammon selling off some of Levi’s figurines or posters or some…sort of anime paraphernalia that had nearly resulted in Levi summoning Lotan.

 By the time that had all been dealt with, he had just enough time to wrangle his brothers into looking vaguely presentable before shoving them all out the door in order to make it to the student council meeting.

Now he was home, exhausted, and he still hadn’t finished the damn papers he’d left on your desk. He made it to your door, knocking three times and waiting until he heard you call for him to come in.

You were sitting on your bed, doing the last few bits of homework you’d been assigned before the weekend. You offered him a smile. “Hey, how was your day?”

He hesitated at your slightly off tone but decided he didn’t have the energy to figure it out right now. “Very long, my love. And unfortunately, still not over.” He turned to the desk to return to his papers…but they weren’t there anymore. He turned to you with a quizzical look. “Have you seen the papers I left here?”

“Your papers?” A slightly…smug look came over your face. “Yes, I have.” You gestured to a plastic tub in the corner of the room, which, sure enough, contained the stack of documents.

“Ah, thanks.” He went to go retrieve them but paused when you held up your hand.

“Ah, ah,” you said, standing up. You gestured to the box. “Your papers are in toy jail.”

“Toy jail?” He repeated. He glanced at the tub, seeing the label on it. “…what does that mean?”

“It’s a common punishment in the human world. When a child leaves their toys out where they aren’t supposed to, their toys get put into a box, or “toy jail”. To earn them back, usually they have to do some sort of chore. I got so sick of everyone leaving their stuff here I decided to implement something similar in my room.”

Lucifer huffed. He really didn’t have the time nor energy to deal with this today…though he couldn’t help but find it a little endearing. “So…you’re punishing me like a child?”

You nodded.

He sighed in mostly false annoyance. “You’re saying that I…the Avatar of Pride, the eldest, one of the most powerful demons in hell…may not retrieve my paperwork from a plastic tub in your room…because you said so…because this is how children are punished in the human world.”

You finally looked up from your homework to give him a smirk. “Uh-huh.”

He groaned, though it was really difficult to pretend to be annoyed when you were looking at him like that.

“And…what is it you’re asking me to do in exchange for their…” bail”?” He asked. He took a seat beside you on the bed, leaning back slightly to look down at you.

“I want to watch a movie with you and order takeout.”

“I…huh?” He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Out of everything you could ask…that is what you want?”

You nodded. A slight frown tugged at your lips. “Yeah. You’ve been so busy lately, you’re overworking again. And…I feel like I haven’t spent time with you in a while. I miss you.”

Oh.

Well, that softened him up immediately, and the guilt pulled at his heart. “…it…has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, I’m just…terribly busy…”

You nodded. “No, no, I know. But…I finished the paperwork you left here while you were gone. It was pretty easy, just…really…really tedious. So…can you maybe spend the rest of the night with me?” You asked hopefully.

Well…he definitely couldn’t say no to that. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to lean against him. “…of course I can, dearest.”

[reverie-starlight]

I've been feeling very down about myself these past few days so here's a small kuroo thought that made me feel a little better <3

gn!reader

kuroo is absolutely the type of boyfriend to be so insanely proud of you for even the smallest of accomplishments. you finally booked an appointment that you've been putting off for a while? he's beaming at you and telling you how amazing that is.

something finally goes your way and you get some good news? he's the first one celebrating, getting up from the sofa when you tell him and raising his fists in the air excitedly, cheering, pulling you up with him.

got the job? passed a test? successfully attempted a new recipe? you're getting endless praise and he's bragging about you to everyone he knows. the proud grin stays on his face for the rest of the day and comes back whenever he thinks of it long after.

and if you're depressed because you feel like nothing has gone your way and you feel just a little bit (a lot) like a failure? he's holding you close and kissing all over your face, not letting those thoughts muddle your mind too much anymore. "baby, I'm always proud of you. just because you feel a bit stuck right now, or you think you're headed nowhere, that doesn't make it true. I am always going to be proud to call you mine." followed by more kisses and cuddles.

because even on the days you don't feel worthy of anybody's pride, even your own, he reminds you that you'll always have his. he's forever in your corner cheering you on, and he'll always be there for you.

like idk, he's just so fucking proud to be your boyfriend.

there's just something about having someone be unconditionally proud of you no matter what. someone thinking of you and immediately swelling with pride? loving you that much? end me. I've never had this before and it was making me emotional. give me kuroo I want to give him a million kisses and tell him I'm proud of him too, he deserves it. can you tell I'm going through it lmao

[starrysvn]

place in me | jung wooyoung

pairing: chef!wooyoung x chef!gn reader

genre: angst, slow burn, fluff, ex2l

word count: 17k

warnings: angsty af, kinda toxic workplace, food, drinking, i know jackshit about cooking apart from hell's kitchen, masterchef and google searches, one (1) sex joke, reader is kinda dumb.

a/n: this has been in the works since march. i gotta stop procrastinating. anyhoww, i cited "m. butterfly" by david henry hwang and reworked one of my favorite quotes ever from "jane eyre" by charlotte brontë bc i luv her. hope u guys enjoy it <3

networks: @cromernet 🫶🏻

playlist: beside you by 5sos, finally // beautiful stranger by halsey, sparks fly by taylor swift, sorry by halsey, back to december by taylor swift, right where you left me by taylor swift, the winner takes it all by abba, haunted by taylor swift, amnesia by 5sos, place in me by luke hemmings

masterlist | navi

During quiet nights you worked best. It had always been that way ever since you were a student and you didn’t think things would change. Not when the kitchen was completely silent except for the slow rumbling of whatever you had on the stove and the swift swish of your chopping knife against the cutting board. You loved listening to music while cooking, but on nights like these, you preferred the muffled sounds of the city coming in from the cracked open window and the occasional humming that left your mouth. 

It was peaceful enough to remember why you loved cooking so much. Not that you ever forgot but, lately, it was hard to find joy in your job. The hustle and bustle of the kitchen kept you busy enough to render your work almost mechanical, punctuated by the quick rhythm of orders coming in. All the loud noises around you sent you into a frenzy more often than not. 

It was on nights like these - in the kitchen of your own apartment, off duty for the evening - immersed in the mellow atmosphere you created, that you wondered if it had all been worth it. The studying, the getting yelled at, Paris… If it had all brought you to this - working in a Michelin star restaurant you had only ever dreamed of setting foot in -  but could never get you anywhere past it. If this was your final dream, your last ambition, then why did it all feel so heavy? 

It was a question you could never answer. You took great pride in your work and in yourself for getting you where you were. You liked some of your fellow chefs, and the reaction your answer got out of people when they asked you where you worked. It lit a match in you, it felt like a pat on the shoulder to your younger self. But when you got home exhausted and so not ready to face it all again the next morning, doubt clung heavily to your mind. 

You turned off the burner with a sour taste in your mouth you knew only your cooking could melt away. Sat down in front of your gamjatang, you took a big breath before diving in. You had avoided the dish like the plague ever since then, but somehow tonight your hands moved for you when reaching for the ingredients. The circumstances couldn’t have been more different than when you last cooked it; you weren’t hungover, it wasn’t four in the morning, and you weren’t halfway across the world with him. 

A memory pushed and shoved to come to the forefront of your mind, one about warmth and love and understanding all washing over you in the tiny kitchenette of a Paris apartment where, with him, you tipsily laughed and slow danced to the music of your hearts beating at the same time.

It wasn’t surprising that it just didn’t taste the same. Recipe and execution-wise it was perfect, you couldn’t count the amount of times you cooked the soup. But it tasted off, somehow. And right now you didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze why. So you just ate in silence, a slight frown on your lips with every spoonful, grateful you only had to load the washing machine before going to bed, disappointed your peaceful night of cooking had been ruined. 

–

“What’s got your panties in a twist today?” 

Park Seonghwa was your favorite coworker. You two started working at Hwang’s at the same time and bonded pretty quickly. He was quiet and focused, a perfectionist when it came to his job and never really contributed to the migraine-inducing bustling crowd of chefs around you. He also would never dare to speak like this when you both were in earshot of the sous chef. You sighed. Apparently, you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and proceeded to grill your junior chef Jongho with more bite than usual. 

“Please don’t say that when Seo’s so close to us,” you flashed him a warning look which was met with a mischievous smirk. 

“We all know you’re aiming for his spot, with the scolding you just did he can only be proud,” the sous chef in your kitchen had the reputation of being even worse than head chef Lee, truly the bane of everyone’s existence. You didn’t want to be like him. 

“Oh, lord,” you shook your head, slowing down your chopping the slightest bit. You’d woken up with a headache after a fitful night of sleep, already frustrated with the world before even facing it. Missing the bus and clocking in late didn’t help either, not when you were greeted with a murderous glare from the head chef. You didn’t mean to be snappy with your junior, but things had inevitably piled up. 

“I don’t even know if I want the position anymore,” you grunted under your breath, earning a soft giggle from Seonghwa.

“Careful saying that out loud, or the vultures will try even harder to take you down,” he knew better than to bump his shoulder with yours, lest he interrupted your furious chopping and ended up being the reason you lost a finger, but did it anyway. The sweet gesture comforted you, surprisingly you didn’t feel the urge to bite his head off. 

“Let them,” you meant the words to sound a little less disheartened than they did, but all of last night’s thinking had seemingly gotten to you. Seonghwa gave you a confused look but could say little before being interrupted. 

“Executive Chef Kim needs to speak to you,” the eyes of the whole kitchen were on you as a sort of stillness descended upon everyone. Even Seonghwa beside you looked surprised, even if less than everyone else. You knew in his head he was probably cooking up some joke about you being the next tyrant sous. 

There were two ways this encounter could go: either fire you or promote you. A conviction that grew stronger when you entered the still-empty restaurant and sat at a table were not only the executive chef, but also the owner and manager, waiting for you. Why would they do this hours before opening? 

“Thank you for joining us,” manager Na said as soon as you sat down in front of them. “As you may be aware, chef Kim and chef Lee have had their eyes on you as a possible candidate to replace chef Seo once he retires.” Her piercing eyes stared deep into your soul. You nodded, almost afraid to speak, wondering why in the world you chose to work for such intimidating people. 

“I’m afraid you will not be taking that spot.” 

A low blow. Somehow, even when you were neither too hopeful nor too enthusiastic about becoming sous chef, the rejection still hurt. It still sent a jolt of disappointment and self-doubt shooting through you. Were you not doing a good job? Were you not up to their standards? 

“However,” you looked up again, your eyes now on executive chef Kim. “Mr. Hwang is opening up another restaurant.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” you mumbled, wheels slowly turning in your head. Manager Na smiled knowingly. 

“I would like to give you the opportunity to become head chef in my new restaurant,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m told by chef Kim and chef Lee that you would fit the position better than the one of sous chef. I trust their judgment.” 

It took all you had not to let your jaw hang in front of them. Head chef? Had they lost their minds? Never had your mind taken the decision for you before you could even rationalize your thoughts. 

“Could I think about it?” 

“Time ticks fast here, you know that chef Y/L/N,” Manager Na’s intimidating eyes were on you again. “We’d like to have an answer in two days at most.” 

With a curt nod, they dismissed you. You didn’t think you had ever made a beeline for the bathroom so fast in your entire life. Surely, you couldn’t go back into the kitchen looking like your cat just died. Everybody would know something was wrong, they would know that the position as sous was still free and you had been shot down. And there was little they could do better than kicking a man when he was down. 

So you sat in the cubicle, trying to calm your shaking hands and regain composure. Act like nothing happened. Betray no emotion. Go back to dicing potatoes exactly one centimeter by one centimeter. Not a millimeter more, not one less. 

Assholes. All of them. They couldn’t have chosen a better moment to tell you this than the most hectic night of the week. And now you’d have to work through it. Through the eyes trailed on you, holding questions and spite and jealousy. Through chef Lee’s and chef Seo’s yelled reprimanding, making sure everything was just perfect for the critic coming in.

Just one more night.

Never had you held on so tightly to such meager consolation. 

–

“You look like you need a beer.” 

Seonghwa’s voice broke the silence of the back alley. After closing, you decided to stick around instead of fleeing home like you usually would. It had been a while since the last time you sat outside the back entrance of the kitchen, alone with your thoughts after hours of noise. 

“I need vodka,” you voiced, not looking up as he took a spot beside you.

“That’s stooping so low, what’s wrong?”

You knew the question would come. Somehow he had not asked anything when you entered the kitchen again with a blank face. A murmur had slithered past as you took your place and started working again. But Seonghwa had just shot you a look, resuming his work as well. 

“They want to make me head chef at Hwang’s new restaurant.” 

“But that’s great!” He was looking at you with those big, wide, excited eyes of his and a genuine smile on his lips. One would think the offer was made to him. You were almost sorry you had to wipe that happiness away. 

“I don’t know if I want that…”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, but not surprised. You sighed. How did you explain this without sounding crazy? 

“I mean… I-” you grunted, hands in your hair. “When’s the last time you felt like cooking?” 

Seonghwa stared back with a slight frown in his brow, eyes bouncing around your face in an effort to understand. 

“Like, really cooking. Without walking into the kitchen and wanting to throw up, or dreading opening time and all the yelling. I know it’s how it is when you work for such big names but fuck. Everything’s too fast and I… it feels like I don’t care anymore, Hwa. They took my passion and stomped all over it.” 

“Didn’t you want to be a high end, gourmet restaurant chef?” 

You stared, mouth hanging open. Of course, you did. It was your biggest dream, your one ambition. It was excruciating that all the pressure was making you break, making you think that you weren’t cut out for this and you had wasted your time. 

“I did, I do.”

“But?” 

“But this isn’t it. This feels like a survival show, where everyone’s out for blood. I understand competitiveness, but I can hardly breathe when we start cooking. Chef Seo is a literal nightmare and I don’t think I can do it anymore in a place like this.” 

“I see…”

“You think I lost my mind,” you let your head tilt back, eyes on the starless night sky.

“Maybe you did,” Seonghwa said. “That doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” 

“I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d hear you like this,” he continued. “You hold such pride for what you do and how you do it. I think Seo might yell at you just because he’s irritated he’s got nothing on you. Half of the people hate you for how well you manage.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed.

“My point is,” he bumped his shoulder with yours. “That it’s indicative of how much this place fucking sucks if they got you breaking. A Michelin kitchen, or any kitchen for that matter, shouldn’t burn out their best chefs.” 

“Jongho is so brave for junioring here,” you deflected, allowing his words to soothe your burning wounds. 

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Yeah, and look at where it got us,” you giggled, smiling for the first time tonight. Seonghwa huffed out a laugh. 

A beat of silence passed. You were glad for Seonghwa. Even though you often joked he was just your favorite coworker, you considered him a dear friend. One of your only friends for the matter. 

“What are you gonna do?” 

“I’ll quit,” you heard his surprised gasp and chuckled. “And I’ll refuse the position. I know head chef sounds better but I know them. Manager Na and Mr. Hwang will only hire straight up assholes and I’d have to deal with it, and not even as executive chef.”

“We’re not assholes!” his hand sat on his chest in mock offense, you giggled.

“We look like assholes and do our job quietly and damn near perfectly, that’s why we’re here.” 

Mumbling something along the lines of I guess so, Seonghwa accepted the heavy truth. In the quiet alley, sitting with your friend, you felt okay. The murmur of the busy city filled your heart as you quietly giggled and remembered your first days working at Hwang’s. Goodbyes were always hard on you, but not this time. You expected gut-wrenching pain and tears and the heavy burden of failure on your shoulders as you accepted your decision. But none of it manifested, not when Seonghwa had snuck one of the most expensive bottles of wine out of the kitchen and launched himself in a perfect rendition of Chef Seo’s latest meltdown. Maybe taking a step back didn’t mean failing, something you never would’ve believed mere months ago. 

-

The sound of freedom equated to the one of your blaring alarms each morning. It had been two weeks since you had quit your job, but you still refused to get a good night’s sleep. Well, except the night you told Seonghwa and you ended up drunk off your faces. 

You rolled over, turning off the annoying alarm, ready to start another day of not knowing what to do. There were few things you enjoyed doing, apart from cooking, when all you were left with was free time and silence. It was nice getting out of the house in the early spring morning to buy groceries, go for walks, and swing by your friend’s flower shop, but it got old quickly. Mostly, you didn’t like how sometimes, while cooking, memories you tried to never think of seemed to resurface on their own. 

When you finally got to the kitchen and there was nothing but eggs in the fridge – it was shopping day – you settled on an omelette for breakfast. Only, halfway through cooking, your mind wandered back there. 

When Chef Berrien asked you to make an omelette you wanted to laugh. You didn’t though, not when you saw the serious frown he was sporting. He was being serious? The absurdity of the situation made you question if dropping everything you had back at home just to fly to Paris to master your craft had been worth it. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you were crazy. 

“Omelettes are the easiest thing to spoil,” he stood resolutely in front of you all. “Only good chefs make good omelettes.” 

Oh god, your mother was right. 

“Good luck,” a smug voice sounded from beside you. 

If there was someone who could push you over the edge Chef Berrien shoved you to, it was Jung Wooyoung. In just two weeks of sharing your working station with him, you discovered that his bubbly personality clashed with your silent brooding. You preferred to work in silence and, apparently, he thrived in chaos. 

“You too,” you grumbled, getting your few ingredients ready. How in the world were you supposed to prove your worth with a fucking omelette? You closed your eyes and sighed, getting to work. 

“That definitely looks… simple,” Wooyoung mumbled as Berrien walked through the cooking stations, pulling faces at every dish. You looked down at yours - a plain, french omelette - then at his - all prettily plated and definitely cheese filled - and bit your tongue.

“He asked for an omelette, not a Michelin star worthy breakfast,” you hastily whispered, wishing he would just shut up for once.

“Aren’t we training to be Michelin star worthy chefs?” came his rebuttal, getting on your last nerve with that pretty smirk of his. 

Pretty? 

You scoffed and shook your head, straightening your back and clearing your throat as Berrien came close to your station. When the chef’s eyes landed on your omelette, a slight frown pulled his lips downwards. As he walked away, you did your best to ignore Wooyoung’s silent snicker and the burning in your cheeks. After the evaluation, you kept quiet for the rest of the day. 

It sometimes happened that you would close off to the rest of the world, and focused only on what you were thinking and the task at hand. Most often when you were cooking, which both helped and hindered your work. As much as you needed to focus on what you were doing, you also needed to listen to orders while doing it. You hoped to get better at managing it, it was why you were here, after all. Though, for now, after a full day surrounded by people, you were happy sitting alone with your back resting against the backdoor to the kitchen. 

“Is the silent treatment payback for beating you today?”

The door flew open, making you lose balance for a second, then came his question. 

“You didn’t beat me, Wooyoung, this is not a competition,” you sighed, keeping your eyes set on the wall in front of you rather than on his figure sitting down beside you. 

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, no doubt with a shit-eating grin on his lips. That did it.

“Just because your omelette got a nod and mine got a frown, it doesn’t mean yours was better!” You all but exploded, finally looking at him. Indeed, he was wearing a smug grin. 

“Well, Chef Berrien would disagree,” you scoffed as he looked at you with shiny, distracting, eyes. Was it the light from the lamppost reflected in them or had the lack of sleep finally got to your brain? You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thought.

“Fuck you too, I guess,” you finally said, turning back around, earning a laugh from him. 

You didn’t want to stop and think about why his laugh pulled a snicker out of you, making you feel so light and at ease. 

“Does this mean you’ll go back to talking to me then?” He asked, sounding a little small. “You’re not mad?” 

Something pulled at your heartstrings, hearing him ask something like that. Did he really think you were mad at him? You probably looked like an asshole for the rest of the day after Berrien barely passed your omelette. 

“I’m not,” you said much faster than you anticipated. “I never was.” 

“That’s good,” he smiled, and you weren’t sure you liked the warmth that blossomed in your chest. 

You avoided thinking of your training in Paris with all your might, and he was the reason why. But it seemed that now that your whole world had turned upside down, your brain could do nothing but. Add that to the list of things you hated about unemployment. A funny smell pulled you from your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the almost burned omelette in front of you. Mumbling curses under your breath, you turned off the heat and plated it. This was why you never let your thoughts take over. 

You ate your spoiled breakfast in silence, deciding to get started with your day and your grocery shopping, mentally listing all the food you’d need. Anything, really, at this point to keep your mind occupied with something that wasn’t him.

It was still hard for you to wrap your head around what Jung Wooyoung meant to you. Or rather, you knew perfectly well and tried to avoid it like the plague. He was a closed chapter you didn’t want to revisit simply because it hurt. Because there was a point in time where he meant the whole world to you, where he was your whole world, and you decided to burn it all down only to choke on the ashes of what it used to be. 

You left wondering if he was still writing pages or considered the story closed and done as you did. Like you had to not to drown in guilt. 

While walking down the street, warm sunlight caressing your face, you asked yourself why it was all coming back to you now. A hollow of confusion had opened up in your chest, and of its own volition your heart chose to fill it with such memories. When Wooyoung came into your life, he did so by taking it by storm; randomly, upsetting all you had ever known, and maybe at the wrong time. That didn’t mean he didn’t leave a sign, a permanent one, on your heart. And now that you were crawling in confusion, he was barging in once more.

Wooyoung was late. It was teamwork evaluation day and your project partner was nowhere to be seen. Chef Berrien had sent daggers flying your way upon seeing the empty side of your workstation, not waiting a second longer to start the class. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole and also to strangle Wooyoung on sight. There must’ve been a logical reason why he still hadn’t shown up when you were supposed to finish your three-day project. If the fucker left you alone to finish cooking lièvre à la royale, you were seriously going to give him the scolding of a lifetime.

Anxiety started to claw at your stomach, twisting it in knots and tugging at them in a way that made it harder to breathe. Under the chef’s pointed gaze you could only stay as still as possible, hoping he’d prolong his very unsubtle speech about tardiness until Wooyoung got here, praying he would, and yet cursing him in your head. 

He still hadn’t shown up when he gave the class permission to start working. You sighed in frustration, walking to the fridge to retrieve the hare you’d cooked the day before with trembling hands. Back at your station, you realized that working while checking the door every three seconds would get you nowhere, and you weren’t about to fail the assignment even if half of your team was missing. 

When the meat was finally cleaned of the jellied liquid it had sat in overnight, and you were preparing to cut it into exactly eighty grams slices - not one more, not one less, Berrien's voice sounded in your head -  the door to the kitchen burst open.

In came a panting Wooyoung, his white chef jacket buttoned up a little crooked, who tried to make his way to your station unseen. It didn’t work.

“Jung,” Berrien’s voice resonated in the hot hair of the kitchen, making everyone stop working for a beat. Too bad no one had time to spare. You started slicing. “I don’t appreciate tardiness.”

“I’m very sorry, Chef-” he held his hand up next to his face, shutting up your partner. 

“You may start cooking,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding the whole time, shoulders almost sagging in relief. “But don’t think I won’t keep this in mind during evaluation.” 

The frustration you’d tried to keep at bay so far flared up once more, and your grip on the knife tightened. Wooyoung silently made his way next to you, washing his hands carefully and using the time to assess how far you’d gotten into the process. You didn’t utter a single word, fuming quietly as you focused on your task and he picked up on his. 

You couldn’t afford to lose time bickering now, and for the first time in a while, you cooked in complete silence, the air around you tense and devoid of the usual jokes he would throw around to lift your spirits. No banter, just instructions and cooking for the next five hours. 

Despite everything, Chef Berrien couldn’t hide how pleased he was with your dish, which didn’t end up at the top of the class only because of Wooyoung’s mishap. As soon as the chef dismissed you, you fled the kitchen.

“Wait!” Wooyoung’s voice called after you, who were already outside and determined to escape to your apartment to avoid cussing him out in front of your fellow chefs, who had already thrown confused glances at you the whole day. 

“Hey, hold up!” He caught you by the wrist, spinning you around. If he wanted to do this here, who were you to deny him? 

“What.” Wooyoung almost flinched at the harshness of your voice. 

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am, I just-”

“Save it,” you cut him off. “Day’s over, damage is done, and we ended up with an alright grade. I don’t want to fight.” 

It was true. For how mad you’d been, you didn’t want to make it worse. You could tell he was sorry by the way he’d cooked in silence, waltzing around you as if you were a bomb ready to go off at any minute. It had taken all your strength not to. You made to turn around and walk away, but he was determined to make you listen to what he had to say. 

“Can you come with me?” He sounded defeated despite the determination in his eyes. All you really wanted was to go home, wash up and rot in bed. You were tired, physically and mentally drained by the day. But your friend – because how could you deny that Wooyoung had become more than a simple classmate in the last month? He’d quietly snuck up on you, surprising you with his cheerful smile and awful jokes, and slowly but steadily carved his own spot into your heart, now beating to the rhythm of his screechy laughter and kind words – was pleading you with his brown, burning eyes and how could you say no? 

Sighing in defeat, you nodded, readjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and watching as his frown turned into a soft smile. Wooyoung took your hand in his, going back into the building, and guided you up the stairs. Transfixed, you stared at your hands; his felt slightly rough from all the cooking but still soft. You ignored the warmth the simple gesture sparked in your heart and followed quietly; you could only hope he wouldn’t get the two of you expelled. 

Finally, you got to the last flight of stairs, legs burning and chest heaving. You hoped he had a good reason to be dragging you up six flights of stairs and potentially getting you in trouble for trespassing. He ushered you to the small balcony, apparently mostly used for storage, and nodded to a shaky ladder perched onto its wall, leading to the roof. You often did this at your apartment too, the one perk of living on the last floor, but suddenly your mouth went dry.

“How did you even have the time to find out about this-'' you climbed the small way up, thanking your lucky star that the building at least had a flatter roof compared to yours. But the words died in your mouth when you finally got your bearings and looked around.

Wooyoung emerged as well, now leaning against one of the chimneys. You sat down, amazed at the view all around you; as the sun set in the West, tinging the bluish sky with hues of warm orange and golden light, you spotted the Sacre Coeur sitting North and the Eiffel Tower immersed in a pink blush down South. A light breeze passed by, blowing a strand of dark hair into Wooyoung’s eyes, taking your breath away. Paris was quite the show from up there. 

“I really am sorry,” slowly, he made his way over, sitting down next to you as he cast his eyes onto the breathtaking view in front of you. “I overslept, couldn’t find my keys, then had to rush here and… I’m sorry.” 

You scoffed, not believing he almost failed the both of you because he didn’t hear his alarm in the morning. Actually, you could believe it, because it was such a Wooyoung thing to do. You couldn’t stay mad for long though, not when you turned to look at him and simply seeing his face bathing in the golden sun made your heart stutter in your chest. Not when his sorry eyes were melting like honey in the light. 

“I wanted to punch you in the face when you came in late,” overwhelmed by his gaze, you looked away. Faintly, you heard him scoff beside you. “But I was also relieved. I didn’t think Berrien would let you cook.”

“I was ready to beg on my knees,” you snickered, Wooyoung elbowed your side. “No, really, lièvre à la royale is a bitch, I wouldn’t have let you cook it alone.”

“Then why did you sleep through your alarm? I was seeing red and had a knife in my hand, do you have a death wish?” You joked, heart singing when you made him laugh. 

“Hey, I had trouble sleeping last night,” he defended himself, hands up as his laughter died down. With a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes, you finally looked back at him, studying his face. Only then you noticed the purplish circles under his eyes, just a bit darker than usual.

“Why?” You asked, trying to sound less worried than how you felt. It was Wooyoung’s turn to avoid your eyes and look out at the Parisian skyline, starting to twinkle in the fast-approaching night. 

“I- well,” he sighed as you kept looking, feeling the air around you shift. The way Wooyoung was struggling to come up with an answer had you feeling like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, buzzing with expectation, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t ponder too long on why your heart was racing or why you felt like you could barely breathe. Finally, he looked at you.

“I like you.” 

Now you truly did find it hard to breathe. 

“I like you so much I can barely focus when we cook, and it’s never happened to me before because I love cooking and I always pay close attention to what I’m doing. I also don’t want to lose a finger, you know? But now you’re around and it’s like I can���t help but look at you. You’re so bright and so passionate, and when you’re chopping vegetables you scrunch your nose a little and it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen-”

In seconds you had your lips on his, pulling him closer with a delicate hand on the back of his neck. Wooyoung froze for only a millisecond before kissing you back. His lips were so pillowy and soft, you kissed him slowly, like you had all the time in the world. Lightly, his hand traveled up to rest on yours, which had moved onto his cheek. Kissing him felt like coming home after a long day. Warm and pleasant like the flame that swallowed your heart, chasing away the menacing grip fear had on it. 

Wooyoung pulled away first if only to plant a small peck onto your lips before smiling. 

“I was speaking,” he said.

“You were rambling.” 

You both started laughing, hearts singing. 

“What I wanted to say is that you shine in your own light and I can’t help but bask in it.” 

The way he was looking at you, in ways no one ever could, could have melted you right then and there. You felt the flush rise to your cheeks, the hand that still rested on his cheek trembling lightly.

“I like you too, Jung Wooyoung,” you smiled. “More than I think I should.”

The quaint flower shop came into view, dispelling the memory, and a soft smile opened up on your lips. It didn’t look like there were any customers, so you stepped in. The colors of the pretty flowers that covered every inch of the walls always managed to put you in a better mood. You walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.

“Coming!” You heard from behind it, somewhere in the back, with a little shuffling and a loud thump. You jumped on your spot, giggling.

“You okay, Sang?” You asked, trying to peep. Your friend emerged a second later, clad in a white shirt, jeans, and his green apron, blowing a piece of his black fringe out of his eyes, a vase full of sunflowers in his hands. 

“Oh, hey, what brings you ‘round?” He smiled, setting the vase on the counter. 

“Just dropping by before going grocery shopping,” you shrugged, smiling back before you started playing softly with the leaves of the flowers near you. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m good, I should be asking how you are,” he raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s the fourth time you visit this week.” 

You rolled your eyes, used to his antics, standing to help when he nodded at you to follow him. The quietness of the shop eased your thoughts more often than not, plus, you enjoyed the company of your friend. Yeosang lived in your same apartment building and opened up his shop early in the morning, around the same time you had to leave for work. Oftentimes you shared a coffee before your obligations called. He complained about horrible customers and you complained about your horrible coworkers. 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” busy with an arrangement, he nodded you to the water lilies to his right. You reached for them with an arched brow, passing them. “A restaurant is opening down the street, if you’re interested in paying rent this month.” 

You huffed a laugh, pretending to be offended. 

“I’ll have you know I save my money, thank you very much.” He stood again, having finished his composition, watching you with an amused expression. “But I appreciate it,” you conceded. Yeosang smiled now, going back behind the counter as you followed.

“You should really check it out, even if it’s just temporary. It’d do you good,” a customer walked in, interrupting your chat. You nodded, leaving him to his work, shooting him one last smile before walking out. His cheerful Have a good day followed you out of the shop and into the now busier street.

Yeosang was right, you knew that much, but you still hesitated as you left the flower shop. There was uncertainty in your steps as you dared to walk down the street, looking ahead to spot the restaurant. Maybe you could go later that day, you could start with something easy like the grocery shopping you needed to do, to ease your nerves. 

That was better, you decided, easing yourself into the day with your routine before upsetting it by facing something new. With newfound vigor, you resumed your walking, headed to your favorite greengrocer. A walk that lasted barely five steps, before you collided against another passerby. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-” 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

As apologies spilled past your lips, your eyes finally caught sight of the person you so rudely slammed into. When you did, you stopped talking, just as your lungs stopped breathing for a long second.

His dark hair looked a little longer, and his smile was just as you remembered, if not a little softer. Breathtakingly dashing like the first time you saw him, even in his worst moments. Because the last time you saw him, things weren’t pretty. You threw around words you didn’t mean only to disappear from his life. Both of you were crying, eyes red and puffy, voice broken as you spoke. You thought you’d never see him again.

To your dismay, you realized right then and there that you weren’t ready to face him yet. You never prepared for the moment it would all come back, simply because you never thought it would. 

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Wooyoung huffed, his polite smile falling in seconds.

“Yeah, me too,” you croaked, still in shock. 

The moment stretched on for what felt like minutes, and was only probably seconds, as you desperately tried to come up with something to say, something that’d make sense. But your brain came up empty-handed, because what if he hated you? He should hate you. What if he just told you to fuck off and left? Just like you did years ago. 

“So, what are you up to?” 

And yet, here he was again, taking your life by storm. There was no way he was standing there, in front of you in the middle of a busy sidewalk, asking what was of your life. You blanked, producing a sort of confused and surprised noise. He had to be joking. You watched as a little amusement flashed in his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. 

“Would you like to catch up over coffee?” 

Your eyes must’ve been wide as saucers, not a single second of this was making sense to you. 

“U-uh… Sure,” you shrugged, despite yourself. 

Was this his way of showing you he was unbothered and had moved on? His long-awaited chance to brag about where he was in life? You didn’t know him as someone who would do that, but perhaps you deserved it. Maybe this was karma. 

Awkward. It was all so painfully awkward: walking in tense silence beside him to the coffee shop down the street, trying to make small talk about the weather, stumbling over your words when ordering coffee, waiting for him to join you at the table near the exit. Just in case. 

“You’re back home?” You finally asked as he sat down in front of you, desperate to find something, anything, to talk about and fill the silence that hung menacingly over your heads. After all, he wanted to catch up. Wooyoung nodded, slowly sipping his drink.

“Oh, you’ve been traveling then,” you mumbled, playing with your coffee cup, not daring to look up at him again.

“I was, yes.” It was hard to wrap your head around what was happening. In another life, this would all have been familiar. It could have been. Sharing a cup of coffee on a Thursday morning, talking about whatever, sharing cool recipes, and planning how or when to try them out. His presence wouldn’t make you want to simultaneously vomit and run and hide. Dug your own grave, huh? 

“Only big names I imagine,” you forced a smile. He shrugged with a huff, a little bashful perhaps. It was all you needed to know you’d guessed right.

“What about you? What brings you here?” Wooyoung asked, pulling you out of your reverie. Despite the small, polite smile on his lips, his eyes were unreadable. Though, deep down, you knew the answer he wanted to hear. That you traveled all around the world and did big things - still were - and worked for big names. Achieved your dreams at the expense of his. The lump in your throat made it hard to swallow, to speak. 

“Worked at Hwang’s for a while…” you managed to say through the bitterness. Wooyoung’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, jaw hanging open.

“Really? Wow, that’s… amazing! Doesn’t it have two Michelin stars?” Some of your guilt evaporated at the surprise and excitement in his voice, a lightness that was quickly crushed by your own disappointment. 

“How’s it there?” There it was, the million-dollar question. You scoffed, bitter, looking at him, watching his face fall a little. 

“I quit.” You shrugged. 

“You? Quitting? What happened to the Y/N I knew?” Wooyoung was surprised, that much you could tell, but there was something else brewing in his brown eyes. 

“Dead, gone and buried, apparently.” 

Your words were nothing but bleak, with a little bitterness still in them. Sure, you did what was best for you and you were proud, but you couldn’t help but feel like you had let him down. And wasn’t that absolutely, wildly foolish? 

“They offered me a job as head chef in their new restaurant, but I turned that down as well,” you rushed to explain, feeling like you had to, missing his furrowed brow. 

“That’s…” 

“Crazy?” You offered, cutting him off. Wooyoung scoffed. 

“Well, yeah, but there must’ve been a good reason,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to justify your choices to me, Y/N.” 

Your breathing faltered at his words and the fragility they held. Wooyoung had muttered them so softly, you could’ve lost them in the bustling atmosphere around you, and somehow both stabbed and healed your heart’s wounds. 

A moment passed before he cleared his throat, speaking again.

“So, you’re unemployed,” you almost couldn’t fathom how quickly he got back to bubbly and upbeat. You nodded, still stunned.

“Great, me too.” Wooyoung smiled while you blinked repeatedly. Was he… happy? 

“My friend told me about this one restaurant opening down the street-”

“They’re not opening,” he said, watching as your face fell. “Not yet at least.” 

You furrowed a brow, confused, about to ask what he meant when he cut you off again.

“I still need to find a co-owner.”

For a moment, you didn’t hear the car, just outside, honking at a group of teenagers crossing the street despite the redlight. You missed the way a barista made a glass fall and shatter eliciting surprised gasps around the shop. You only saw Wooyoung in front of you, his expression between smug and daring to hope, eyes shining with a little fear. All you heard were the words that left his mouth and what they implied, along with your heart ringing in your ears.

“What do you want to do? Why did you decline the head chef position?” You blanched, head spinning, brain scrambling to form coherent words. His eyes burned with a fire in them that screamed determination, one you were used to seeing as he challenged a dish he was afraid to ruin. A fire you used to love so much and that, you found, still made your breath hitch. 

“I-I just want to make good food and not run a kitchen of overworked, stressed, miserable and spiteful people,” you settled on, not daring to look away, not even when he leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips.

“How’d you like it to open a restaurant?” 

“Let’s open our own restaurant,” you laughed at his words, turning your head to catch his enthusiastic smile and bed hair all over the place. He was so beautiful, bathing in the morning light of your room, that your heart jumped and hurt and sang all at once. 

“What?! Is this post-nut clarity?” Wooyoung laughed, pulling you with him.

“Way to ruin the moment, love,” he quieted down. “I’m serious, though,” he was looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes, and such adoration that sometimes it was hard to fathom it was directed at you.

“Mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster, Jung,” you found yourself saying, giggling when he pulled you into him, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was quiet for a while and you reveled in the warmth of the moment. Wooyoung often made you feel like anything was possible, like right now, huddled in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets despite the impending class you needed to leave for. 

“I think we’d make it,” he whispered, quite believing the words he was saying. “And if it all starts falling apart we can hire chefs to cook and be the owners. Live somewhere tropical, rebuild our relationship…” 

“That’s so sad, we wouldn’t be cooking at all!” you laughed, hiding in his chest and hearing a fake offended hey! from him. “You dream too big, Woo.”

“And you dream too small, my love.” He guided your face in front of his with gentle hands, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you until you were left breathless. When you pulled away, you finally saw the stars dancing in his eyes.

“I do have dreams,” you almost whispered, treading lightly on your own aspirations, opening up your heart for someone else to see. Someone who would understand and not call you crazy. Wooyoung nudged you, an expectant smile on his lips. “I want to travel all around the world and learn from the best of the best. Life’s a classroom, I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

“Never?” he asked, not quite surprised, but more like impressed. He understood. You let out an elated giggle, almost cursing yourself for behaving like a schoolgirl. 

“Never.” unable to resist, you pecked his lips once. 

“That’s a wonderful dream, love.” 

One of his hands came up to rest on your cheek, cradling it gently, looking at you as if you were the most prized possession of his. All over, warmth wrapped you up, and rose to your cheeks that he was still grazing his thumb over, light as a feather.

“I want to open a restaurant someday, ” he whispered, so close to you, looking into your eyes and sending sparks flying in your chest. “But I think I might just follow you to the ends of the world.”

His lips crashed on yours once more, sending your heart racing more than his words had. This might’ve been the closest you’d ever felt to heaven, with Wooyoung wrapped around you, canceling any and everything else. You knew, right then and there, that the fall was going to hurt like nothing had ever before. 

Consommé was the most devilish dish you’d ever had the displeasure of cooking. And yet, its intricate cooking process demanded every last bit of your undivided attention. That was why you were sweating away in the kitchen, trying to achieve the perfect result through your rusty memory of the process, although you had no need for it. Well, except not thinking of your morning. You’d rather remember Chef Berrien’s voice as he dictated the recipe and the endless ways you could ruin it, than your encounter with Wooyoung. 

A shiver ran down your spine, tingling all the way, when his words, the ones from earlier and the ones from back then, echoed in your mind; clashing, fighting, and leaving behind scorched earth. 

You could hardly believe this was your life right now. Accepting would mean tying yourself down to this place, to Wooyoung. You let the thought simmer in your head, waiting for the familiar claustrophobia to bloom in your chest, suggesting you to run and never come back.  

It didn’t come. 

Instead, the thought of leaving pulled at your heartstrings. You liked it here. You liked your morning coffee shit-talking sessions with Yeosang, you liked meeting up with Seonghwa on his days off, you liked your greengrocers and the walk back through the park near home. You liked your apartment, you finally liked the disposition of your tools in your kitchen. You liked the thought of working with Wooyoung. 

You dropped the ladle, splashing your skin with the hot soup. You hissed in pain, clutching your hand to your chest before assessing the damage. You walked the short distance to the sink, running your hand under cold water.

Well, you thought, there goes the clarification process. 

-

You skipped breakfast with Yeosang that morning. For one, you were late despite the alarms, and, most importantly, you needed to talk yourself into actually meeting Wooyoung at the restaurant. The day before you’d left him with the promise of letting him know about the offer. You preferred not to think about how, for just a moment, you could see the determination falter in his eyes. Again. Wooyoung saved his number in your phone before letting you go. 

After taking care of your slightly burned hand, you stared at your phone for all of twenty minutes before finally crafting the perfect text saying you’d meet him at the restaurant at ten. 

And now, five minutes to ten, you were running down the street, dodging people left and right, trying to get to the closed-down restaurant. You couldn’t count the amount of sorry’s you’d thrown around when accidentally running into someone. Finally, the sign came into view, and so did Wooyoung. 

“You made it,” he sounded vaguely surprised and you tried not to let it get to you, or to let it show on your face. 

“So,” you cleared your voice after nodding. “How’d you find out about this?” He gestured for you to follow towards the entrance, producing the key from the back pocket of his black jeans. 

“I used to like this place,” he easily opened the door, leading you inside the empty restaurant. From the outside the restaurant didn’t look like much more than a hole in the wall, but the inside was spacious enough. A small restaurant, fitting maybe twenty tables at best, but you liked the idea. By the looks of it, it must had been recently renovated. Wooyoung switched the lights on, allowing you to see better. “When I got back the owner told me he was thinking of closing, and I asked if he wanted to sell. He made a pretty good offer.” 

“Huh,” you were still looking at the anonymous white walls and the few sleek black tables left behind, making your way to what you knew to be the kitchen. Stepping in, you gasped. It was perfect; an island kitchen slightly bigger than you’d imagined. Almost gleaming in its silver glory it stared back at you, inviting you in. You didn’t even mind the checkered floor as you walked across the space and took it in. Wooyoung stood by the door, leaning against its frame with his hands in his pockets, watching. It looked like he was holding his breath, and you knew why. 

“What do you think?” his voice was just a little bit hesitant. You turned around with a smile. 

“I love it,” you offered, noticing how he seemed to ease up the slightest bit. 

“Ah, I knew you’d fall for the island kitchen,” Wooyoung scoffed, walking into the space as well.

“Not my fault it’s the best type of kitchen,” you raised your hands, hearing him snort.

“Debatable,” he muttered, now standing in front of you. There was amusement dancing in his eyes, a spark you realized just then how much you’d missed. 

It hit you then, square in the chest, how much you really just missed him. He still seemed to know what you wanted even before you knew yourself. It happened then and it was happening now. Being in the kitchen with him felt electrifying, your hands itched to start cooking. You looked around once more, seeing yourself bustling around in this kitchen, Wooyoung at your side.

Never once did you regret the choices you’d made; your love for food had brought you all around the world, learning and cooking in the most beautiful kitchens, earning your praise felt like the biggest reward. Believing in yourself and your skill, your craft, and being able to perfect it was all you really needed. Maybe it was time to stop and breathe for a while, and put your experience to use. Because, no, you never regretted where your choices took you, except losing Wooyoung. Your compass, the one who never lost sight of your heart. 

“Let’s do it.”

Wooyoung looked at you as if you’d grown a second head, letting out a surprised sound.

“I saved quite a bit in the last few years and we could ask for a loan. Quite frankly, I’ve always wanted to run a kitchen on my own terms,” you could hear it in your voice, the ambition faintly coming back to it, something you hadn’t heard in a while. You smiled seeing Wooyoung straighten up. 

“We’d be running it together,” he lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. You mirrored his stance.

“That’s good with me,” Wooyoung smirked. 

“Then let’s do it.”

-

Oftentimes you asked yourself how you ended up here. You believed it almost impossible that you were, once again, sitting in front of Jung Wooyoung at an ungodly hour of the night, eating food you’d made as the radio softly played in the background. What was even less credible to you was how you were sitting in your restaurant, yours, discussing menu plans. 

A month strong into the planning and designing, you were proud to say that you and Wooyoung were… friendly. Like coworkers were. Almost like long-lost friends would be. But it was fine because you got to stress Yeosang nearly every morning about how sometimes you both would slip into old habits and bicker like you used to and how that would confuse you. Then you’d talk Seonghwa’s ear off one night a week in front of your drinks, rambling on and on about how you’d catch yourself staring at him, blushing like an idiot, stumbling over your words. 

Safe to say that your friends were tired, but deep down it surprised and comforted them to see you come back to life bit by bit. 

It was all hard to wrap your head around because the last time you saw him still burned in the back of your mind. It was the giant elephant in the room you could never address, you could never pretend to not see. But Wooyoung was great at turning a blind eye, you realized. And you couldn’t really blame him either. You never expected to be in this sort of situation, you had quite literally run from it. 

But you were afraid of misstepping, of crossing a line.

So, now, there you stood, at a crossroads; talk about it and watch this newfound truce crash and burn, or pretend like everything was fine. For now, discussing the menu with your co-owner would have to do. 

“I think we should add that!” Wooyoung all but yelled, slamming his chopsticks down. 

“And I’m telling you that I know the area!” You rebutted, swallowing your bite, before carrying on with your point. “There’s at least three other restaurants that do that, what’s missing is a gourmet place.”

“Will you let it go?” He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. “If we get there, we get there, if we don’t, then we’re still making fantastic food!” 

Wooyoung had a point, you knew he did. A valid one at that. 

“You’re insufferable,” you conceded, rolling your eyes and resuming your eating, trying to hide the smile pulling at your lips. 

“You love it,” he winked, picking up his chopsticks. 

And just like that, he threw you back into your loop. How could you simply let it go when this felt so familiar? When it reminded you so much of how you were? Light and carefree. Happy. You hadn’t noticed your eyes roaming around his figure, taking in his long dark hair pulled back by a ponytail, the way his eyes seemed to shine in the dull light coming from the stupid lamp he’d insisted on bringing in. 

This was his dream, wasn’t it? You remembered, because how could you forget the endless hours he’d spend talking about his own restaurant, managing his own kitchen, creating dishes, and cooking his favorites? You could tell by the small smile he sported as he ate, looking around the room with star-filled eyes. 

You didn’t know quite how you fit into this. You never amounted that one conversation, years ago in your Paris apartment, up to anything more than daydreaming. Though, right now, the moment felt tangible, you could grasp it in your hands if you wanted to. He'd given you a new dream to chase right when you thought you were over. 

“You’re looking at me weird,” Wooyoung waved his chopsticks in a circle around your face, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” your eyes fell back to the almost empty plate, moving the last bites of food around. 

“I didn’t say it was bothering me,” his voice was lower, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart drop. When you looked up, you didn’t know what to make of his expression. It looked like he was contemplating his following words, and you were all but hanging from his lips. He stayed quiet, eyes downcast on his plate, and shot you a short smile. 

You let the radio fill the silence between you, allowing the thoughts to pester your mind. Though, like a cup overflowing, there was little you could do to cage them and push them down.

“Wooyoung, were you-” his eyes rose to meet yours, and you stopped for a second, mulling the question over, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth before spitting it out as if it were a seed that ruined your bite. “Who were you going to open the restaurant with?”

His wide eyes told you all you needed to know, and yet his stunned silence pulled another set of words out of your lips.

“You said you needed a co-owner first…” you rasped, almost shocked you were still talking through the cotton in your mouth. Wooyoung set his chopsticks down, trying to hide the way his hands started trembling, sighing.

“We made a good team, didn’t we?” his voice was quieter, wondering. He shot you an uneasy smile, so short and so small you almost missed it. “I know you’re a great chef and we want this to be a great restaurant.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, feeling the weight of memories unloading on both your shoulders, their presence demanding the unwanted plunging into deep, murky waters. “Does it have, uhm… does it have anything to do with-”

“Let’s not open that can of worms, mh?” He cut you off immediately, sounding a tad harsher than he had before, rubbing salt into your matching wounds. 

“I just-” It felt like you were gasping for air, grasping at any lifeline you were afforded, lost in the swirling sea that were his pained eyes. 

“I know.” 

A mangled victory, or a loss, the way his voice sounded resolute. It allowed no space for you to counterattack, to try and pry any other thought out of him. And you accepted it, simple and plain, with no complaints. You had no right to. Nodding, you averted your eyes, affording him space. 

“I-” Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conflict in his mind was reflected on his face clear as day. Before his eyes were back on you, they looked around the room. “I missed you.”

Bearing his heart, that was what he was doing. It felt like, despite everything, he was still offering you a small piece of it. Your breath caught in your throat. Three words that held huge implications and a heavy past. One right answer, a truthful one, that could sound highly hypocritical of you. But you had to say it.

“I missed you, too.”

Wooyoung smiled, small and tentative, but still as warm as sunshine. You smiled back. 

The night was as cold as you felt despite having his arms wrapped around you, offering you shelter from the biting wind. Tonight the twinkling lights of the city below you couldn’t offer their usual comfort. You knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened your mouth to speak; you’d be breaking his heart along with yours. But you had to, hadn’t you? Wooyoung would understand. 

“Don’t you want to stay here forever?” He mumbled in your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. You kept staring out at the Parisian lights, heart sinking with every beat. 

“I-” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing there was a way to prevent the hurt you were about to put him through. Never mind about yourself, all you cared about was him. Always him. Then why are you doing this? Sounded something in the recess of your mind. You shushed it. The lump in your throat formed out of the blue, making it hard to utter the next words.

“I wish I could,” you whispered, hoping your words would get lost in the wind, bracing for impact when you felt him tense and pull away from you. A gust blew by, chilling you to the bone now that he wasn’t holding you anymore. The look in his eyes sparked burning regret in your heart, setting it aflame.

“What do you mean?” 

He had taken a step back, confused eyes searching for yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you were about to break all the promises you’d made right along with his heart. What a coward.

“I was offered a job in New York,” you began, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “I took it… I leave next week.”

When you finally mustered enough courage to look back at him, you saw betrayal shining clear in his eyes, swirling in disbelief, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. It was almost as if you could hear his thoughts, and each of them cut a deeper wound. 

How could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I would've been happy for you. We could’ve made other plans. 

“Were you just going to disappear from my life forever, then?” He spat, a little angry, a little sad. 

“No, Wooyoung, I-” you tried to reason, knowing very well that no excuse would hold. He scoffed bitterly, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jacket like a hurt kid. Already hard to talk through the burning in your throat, the tears springing in your eyes didn’t make the task any easier.

“Save it,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for there,” he made to go, but you couldn’t let him, not yet. 

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” He stopped dead in his tracks; you’d said the wrong thing. But you couldn’t hide your hand now that you’d thrown the stone. “Is it not our dream to learn and travel when all of this is done?”

Wooyoung shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, and to some extent, you couldn’t either. 

“No, I wouldn’t have, Y/N. It may be your dream but it isn’t mine. Not anymore, not since I met you. So, yeah, I would’ve given it all up,” he all but yelled, each word was like a punch in the gut. Despite the noise of the city below, the beat of silence that lingered sounded louder than any of it. 

“Go to New York, love. It’s your dream after all,” he conceded, voice dying down and broken, softer, like some sort of realization had dawned upon him. He blinked away his tears, still, you refused to let yours fall. 

In a second he was close to you again, his smell and warmth engulfing you once more. A sob broke through you when you felt his arms wrapping around you tight, and another was pulled from you when one of his hands came to softly rake through your hair. Wooyoung surrounded you with all he was, holding you tight, almost as if he loved you. Almost, you thought, because you knew the difference, for you had felt what it was to be loved – truly loved – by him. But you went and broke it. Now, you had to put love out of the question, and think only of duty. You had made your choice, after all, and he knew it too. 

“Goodbye,” in an instant you were left on your own, cold, and watched as he walked away from you, his whisper resonating in your soul, breaking it with each echo.

If you chose to follow your dream, then why did it hurt so much?

-

Sundays used to be your day off. You’d wake up at midday, usually to a ray of sunlight harshly shining into your face until you could no longer bear its warmth. You’d roll out of bed and lazily proceed to tidy your apartment and rot on the couch for the remainder of the day. Now, though, you were a restaurant owner and Wooyoung insisted you should stay open on Sundays because two out of three of the restaurants in your area were closed. So, you rolled out of bed, taking just one second to admire the first rays of sunlight shining through the fading, dark night sky. You sped through your routine and breakfast, having sacrificed that slot of time in favor of five more minutes of sleep. 

Despite the fast-approaching summer, the morning air was still rather chilly, and much quieter than the rumbling of cars and city rustle that you were used to. You didn’t have to squeeze past sleepy teenagers and angry old ladies on the bus and got to choose which seat to sit in. You didn’t mind early Sundays. 

In no time you’d open the restaurant. Today you’d convinced Seonghwa and Yeosang to drop by for lunch; you needed them to test out the menu you and Wooyoung had carefully crafted. Of course, at the mention of free food, both of them agreed, so there wasn’t much convincing involved after all. A sort of test run before the grand opening. 

The restaurant stood before you in the quiet street, looking close to the eye. You smiled proudly, producing the key from your bag, opening the door, and closing it behind you after walking in. The room was quiet, the only indication of someone being in there was the rustle and faint light coming from the kitchen. 

“Hey, Woo,” he was already there, setting out pans and pots. You walked in, reaching for your jacket. 

“Hi!” Although his head was hidden in a cupboard, you could hear his cheery voice loud and clear. “Are you ready?” 

When he emerged, he was sporting a happy smile, contagious enough to make you chuckle.

“As I’ll ever be.” 

Wooyoung smiled at you, beckoning you over to the station where a copy of the menu lay. You sure had your work cut out for the day. Up until then, between the furnishing and taking care of the more bureaucratic aspect of opening a restaurant, cooking together hadn't been common. You were thrilled to finally share the kitchen with him again. 

“Hey! The rolling pin is there to keep you off my half of the counter,” you huffed, trying your best not to let your irritation show. Not while you were trying to close dumplings perfectly. 

“Oh, come on!” He protested, “I can’t believe you’d still do that, look at how much space we have!”

“Yeah, and somehow, you’re still taking up most of it,” Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, finally moving a few of his bowls and pans to make space for you. 

“Gee, thanks,” although you weren’t trying to rile him up, you still ended up falling back into old habits.

“Oh my-” he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, moving a couple more things, “You’re the bane of my existence.”

“You literally asked me to be your co-worker!” You laughed, shocked, but amused.

“And there’s not a day I don’t regret it,” with his nose in the air, trying and failing to hide a smile, Wooyoung resumed his meat slicing. You scoffed, not really offended. It was so easy to breathe when things felt as light as they did. A smile threatened to open up on your face, but you had an act to keep up. 

Silence used to be rare between the two of you, yet you liked it now. There was no awkward space to fill anymore, not a single word to be wasted. You worked in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, chuckling at Wooyoung’s occasional jokes and exchanging instructions. It felt good. It felt like it used to. 

“Are you nervous?” You asked him as you finalized the prepping for the second course. Wooyoung looked up, flashing that smile of his that could rival the sun.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Are you?”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the bowl under your nose. The sauce you prepared to marinate the fish had a pungent note it shouldn’t have had. You didn’t notice him slipping closer to you, right at your side. Wooyoung was leaning on the counter, facing you. 

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” his voice aimed to soothe, and it did, sweet like honey. “Are you or are you not one of the best chefs in town?” 

You looked up at him, scoffing, ignoring the heat on your face that his closeness brought along. 

“See, now you’re exaggerating!”

“I’m not.” 

“Are, too!” A soft laugh escaped the two of you, and when he looked at you, eyes so full of hope and happiness, your breathing stopped for just a second. “But you’re right, it’s gonna be okay, I’m just… I don’t know, I want them to like what we made.”

“They’re gonna,” he shrugged. Only when you gave him a questioning look he answered. “Because we made it.” 

It looked like Wooyoung still knew what to say and when to say it to put your nerves at ease.

-

“Can I have some more?” 

“Me too!”

“You can’t ask that!”

“Says who?” 

“Alright, we’ll make it,” Wooyoung quelled the discussion that was about to start quickly, coming back into the kitchen with empty plates.

Two of his friends had joined yours for lunch, not that the food was lacking, but it seemed that Yeosang and San had promptly bonded over their love for one particular dish. Gamjatang, which wasn’t even on the menu, the two were just bottomless pits, apparently. The only one coming to your aid with restaurant etiquette was Seonghwa, whose reprimanding went unheard. Hongjoong stuck to silent side-eyeing, which barely helped. 

“Should we consider adding it to the menu?” Wooyoung joked, coming over to the stove where you stood, already heating up what was left of the broth from the previous batch. You thanked your lucky star you had some ready, or else they’d had to wait hours to eat.

“Let’s make it available only after eleven, though.”

He laughed, reminding you how you closed at midnight while washing and cutting up the mung bean sprouts, crown daisy leaves, perilla leaves, and green chilies you needed to add later on. You went for the pork bones, potatoes, and cabbage leaves.

Wooyoung set his bowl of vegetables close to the stove, ready for you whenever.

“Do you need more seasoning base?” He asked as you put your portion of ingredients into the pot. 

“Yeah, there’s not much left,” you looked at him, waiting for your word to start. “Thanks.” 

He smiled, getting to work quick.

As everything simmered and cooked, the two of you stood in front of the stove, silent, side to side. Outside, you heard your friends all talk and laugh, but they sounded miles away. Once again, you thought you knew what was running through his head. The night when he taught you how to cook the dish, the way he followed your every step with an encouraging smile. How your heart fluttered when he kissed your lips right after his first bite, saying that there was no way he was ever going to cook it again if yours tasted much better. How one night you tipsily tried to cook it together, almost spilling the batch of broth you saved in the fridge and ruining it all, but could only laugh until your stomachs hurt because somehow it was the funniest thing ever. After all, they plagued your thoughts as well. 

When the timer went off and he looked at you like a deer caught in headlights, you smiled, trying to ease away the tension that had bubbled up, going to kill the flame and plate the dish. 

You passed him a full bowl with shaking hands, praying he didn’t hear the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Maybe you should take away the wine,” Seonghwa sported a light frown on his lips when you made your way to the table with the other bowl in your hands. You furrowed a brow, noticing the way San and Yeosang were giggling a little too loudly, and how the former was particularly flushed, only after setting the dish in front of him. 

“Good idea,” Wooyoung snickered, scurrying back into the kitchen with the bottle. You watched him go, debating if to follow or give him space. You decided to stay, asking your guests how they liked the food. 

Seonghwa ended up giving you precious input and feedback, over the laughter coming from the opposite end of the table. It made you smile. Despite how interested you were in your friend’s recap of the things he appreciated the most about appetizers, you couldn’t help but glance a little worriedly at the kitchen doors from time to time. Wooyoung was still in there.

“Alright, we should go,” Hongjoong, who had simply complimented your cooking with a polite smile, spoke up after a while. San protested a little but stopped his efforts to stay pretty quickly when his friend said he was going to have no ride home. 

The two made their way to say their goodbyes to Wooyoung in the kitchen, leaving you with your friends. 

“We should go, too,” Yeosang stood, walking over to the doors with you and Seonghwa. 

“Thank you guys for coming,” you quickly hugged them both. “Drop by whenever.”

“You know I will,” Yeosang giggled, making you smile. 

“Keep it up!” Seonghwa said, walking out first. You waved them both off, and when you turned around, you were faced with San and Hongjoong. The former complimented your food, saying he’d bring over friends and family, rambling a bit. You giggled as he spoke, thanking him. 

“Thank you for having us, the food was delicious,” Hongjoong watched over San making his way out of the restaurant after saying his goodbyes, turning to you with a small smile. “Can I ask one thing of you?”

Your brow furrowed, but you nodded quickly. He sighed.

“I know you two have a complicated past,” he started, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. “And I see you’re doing great despite it, so, please, just… don’t hurt him again.” 

“I would never,” you were furiously nodding, suddenly your throat felt a little dry, hands all clammy. 

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiled, walking out as well, leaving you dumbfounded and staring at their disappearing figures. 

You waited in silence for a while, mulling his words over in your head. When you turned around and saw Wooyoung leaning against the kitchen door’s frame with a bright, wide smile adorning his lips, the sight almost gave you a heart attack. He laughed loudly seeing your spooked reaction, making a smile appear on your face. His laughter only served to make your heart stutter like butterfly wings, having barely recovered from the surprise, making you giggle as well. 

Wooyoung looked so happy that you felt you could burst at the seams. 

“They liked it!” You could barely contain your excitement as you locked up and started to make your way over to him, almost with a skip in your step.

“They did,” he smiled back, eyes scanning your figure until you were right up in front of him. Not even thinking twice, you let your arms sneak around his shoulders, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. You even swayed side to side. Wooyoung laughed happily, his own arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“I’m so happy,” you murmured when your excitement quelled. Your chin was resting atop his shoulder, and his on yours. When he spoke, quietly, you could hear the smile on his lips right against your ear.

“I’m glad,” he said. “Me too.” 

It was quiet. For the first time since that morning there were no friends laughing at the table, no bickering in the kitchen along with the sizzling of the pans, chopping on the cutting board, and rumbling of the pots. 

Just you and him. 

Your heart was still racing, over the moon for the success of your menu, but also quickened by his close proximity. Once realization struck that you’d pulled him into you, you were quick to let go, though his arms around your waist wouldn’t let you wander far.

“Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” the look in his eyes was enough to send your heart to your feet, air stuck in your lungs, and take you back in time, just for a second. It was all it took for you to want to pull away from him as if you’d gotten shocked. You found that you couldn’t. Not when Wooyoung held you a little tighter, searching for anything in your eyes that would prompt him to stop leaning even a breath closer. 

Frozen in time, in your spot, your grip on his kitchen jacket grew impossibly strong. 

When his nose softly brushed against yours, as if he’d sensed your mind wandering far and wide and wanted to bring you back to him, and you saw how his half-lidded eyes were holding a simple question, you pulled back.

“Should we get to cleaning up?” 

Wooyoung’s eyes closed, for a fleeting second, before he started nodding.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be here all night,” he cleared his voice, arms falling from around you. He offered a smile so small that it barely showed, the moment gone as soon as it came. You watched as he disappeared behind the kitchen doors, shoulders dropping and eyes falling close. 

You gave yourself a moment, just one, to relish in his closeness. The closest he’d ever been to you in years, something that used to be so familiar and still sparked the same goosebumps, the same erratic heartbeat. You sighed, following after him. 

-

You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t for a good week. 

Between the imminent opening of the restaurant and the newfound awkwardness between you and Wooyoung, your head was so full of swirling thoughts that, as soon as you closed your eyes, it prevented you from enjoying one singular night of rest. They just kept going, growing into a never-ending spiral of what-ifs and exploding into a hurricane of beating yourself up. 

By now you’d given up on trying to make sense of your feelings. All you knew was that you wanted to keep Wooyoung to your side, co-worker, friend, or lover, it didn't matter. Now that he was back into your life, you didn’t want to risk losing him again. Though, it got increasingly hard to ignore how you wished he would stay with you once you closed the restaurant. How you wanted him to hold you like he used to, how you wanted to tell him every day just much of your love and devotion he had. 

It was still dark outside when you closed the door to your apartment behind you. Almost without thinking, you’d thrown the covers off of yourself and gotten out of bed, put on the first clean clothes you found, and got out of the house. The cold, crisp air of the night hit you right in the face, waking you up like an icy splash of water would have. You pulled your jacket closer around your body, starting the walk to the restaurant. The keys jiggled in your hand, one of the few sounds in the lonesome streets. 

Your heart had decided the way for you before your mind could catch up.

You’d always found solace in cooking. It allowed your mind to relax, and think about what was right in front of your nose, slicing through all your doubts and worries like a knife. With each step you followed, each accomplished passage towards the perfect result, you felt lighter and lighter. Then Wooyoung came along. Never could you have predicted that something else in your life would’ve been able to bring you the same comfort and brightness as cooking. 

Whatever peace and happiness you’d found in your passion, you’d also found in him. He set you alight. You’d been dumb and wrong enough to think that the feeling that came along with him could be replaced. 

But how could it? Once you let go if it, of him, Wooyoung had haunted all of your what-ifs. All of your darkest nights could only brighten up if you thought of his infectious laugh, his soft kisses, and his kind words. 

Reaching the restaurant brought you back out of your thoughts. You were here now, by some fateful design, with him again. You’d do anything not to lose your brightest star again. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You closed the backdoor behind you with a jolt, not expecting Wooyoung to be sitting at a table, illuminated only by the light coming from his beloved lamp. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Ever so slowly, you made your way to him, trying to calm your racing heart. He raised his shoulders, avoiding your eyes a second later, shrugging as if he had no answer to your question. You sat with him, noticing just then the few papers scattered on the wood. 

“What’s on your mind?” The question fell from your lips in a quiet whisper, almost afraid to disturb the silence hanging in the air. You still knew him, after all, maybe even more than you gave yourself credit for. He sported that furrow in his brow, the one that lightly creased his smooth skin, that only showed up when something had been bothering him. 

“I-” he sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they didn’t waste a single second to find yours. Your mouth went dry. 

“You know what I hate most? That sometimes I hate you, sometimes I hate myself, but always I miss you. And I never stopped torturing myself with the same questions over and over, why would you go? Did our dreams mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you?” A bitter, void laugh fell from his lips. “But you’ve gotta move on, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

Heart in your throat, you were left speechless in front of his innermost thoughts. Thoughts you never imagined could be plaguing his mind still. But how could you miss it now? His eyes were begging for answers, after all this time, as if the dam had finally broken. You couldn’t bear to see them be so pleading, so misty. 

“That’s not true, I,” the words died in your mouth as you choked on them. “You must know it,” reduced to a whisper by the weight of truth, you tried to salvage what you’d so carefully rebuilt.

“Do I?” He sounded so helpless, your brain scrambled in all directions to find a way to convey how so untrue it all was. “You left me, Y/N, and sometimes I'm still there.” 

A gasp left your lips, his words squeezing the air out of your lungs. 

“We’re doing it now, isn’t it enough?”

Wooyoung shook his head, shoulders dropping in disbelief as he scoffed. Despite the dim light, from across the table, you could see his red-rimmed eyes begging you to catch on. You did, you had the second he started speaking, but you’d still said the wrong thing. 

“You’re so dense,” head thrown back, hands on his face, you waited for him to speak again. “Tell me why did you go.”

Not a question. Up against the wall, you felt the way your heart fell to your stomach, how nerves were tugging at it painfully. He needed this, and you were willing to give answers.

“I didn’t think,” you started, feeling so small under his gaze. “The only thing on my mind was that I’d made it. Selfishly, I thought you’d understand. I… I never meant to hurt you, and I know it sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. And when you told me to go, for a split second, I thought we could make it. I realize now how stupid I was. How there were at least ten ways in which I could’ve handled it better. I wish I’d fought for us,”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I-” Unshed tears started to run down your cheeks, wetting your mouth with salt. “There’s nothing I regret more than letting you go.” 

“We were meant to be, love,” his broken whisper was a sinking stone in your chest. Lifting your eyes to meet his, you saw the tear tracks on his desperate face matching yours. 

“But we were not meant to last,” there were few ways you could describe how your heart was hurting as you muttered the words, hand reaching forwards on the table. You didn’t think Wooyoung would hold on to it until he did. Fingers intertwined, you both held on painfully tight as if by letting go you’d get lost in the current the sea of your words had provoked. Each other’s buoy in a storm of unsaid words and unresolved, muddy feelings, so strong that with nothing they could tear you apart. 

You cried immersed in the dark silence of the restaurant hall, the place that crowned your dreams, listening to the other’s quiet sobs. 

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” you choked out again, trying to find his face past your tears. Wooyoung reached out to brush them away, his hands just as soft as you remembered, if not more careful. The moment his skin grazed yours, a shiver ran down your spine, electrified by such simple contact. His hand lingered for a long second, cradling your cheek before all you felt was its cold absence.

He stood up first, only to walk around the table and stamp a kiss on the crown of your head, his hand holding your shoulder. You froze, barely hearing how he murmured something about seeing you in the morning, barely breathing. What you did hear was the closing door, a sign you’d been left alone with your thoughts in the dimly lit room, knowing your ignorance had broken his heart again.

-

You didn’t know how to fix it. 

Standing and cooking side by side felt off again. You were walking on eggshells, treading on a fine line to avoid ticking off another bomb. If the weight of apologizing had been lifted off your chest, something much heavier now resided upon it. Knowing something had changed yet again, all because of how you’d acted. What you’d said. 

“You want to make ramen noodles? From scratch?” 

In the middle of cleaning up part of the station, you couldn’t help but let surprise seep into your voice. Wooyoung stared, nodding. 

“I thought we already made enough to last us at least two days…” You let your words fade out, not wanting to start an argument. His jaw set and you realized your efforts had been in vain.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, at least until our new hires come in,” he shrugged, going to preheat the oven. He really was serious. 

You wondered why he was going through with this; you ran out of kansui, which was already hard enough to find, let alone expensive. In its absence, you’d need to prepare a substitute for it: baking soda that had to be baked in the oven for at least an hour to act properly instead of the kansui. It was such a waste of time when you had more pressing matters to attend to. Ones that didn’t need the help of your brigade. 

Breathing in deeply and deciding that keeping peace was essential, you assessed how Wooyoung was just lining the baking sheet with parchment paper and spreading the baking soda over it. You went to retrieve the whole wheat and bread flours you’d need in an hour, trying to keep frustration at bay. You’d think about the salt and riboflavin later. When you came back with the sacks, Wooyoung was already cleaning the rolling pins and pasta machine. With a grunt, you set them down on the counter, watching as he jolted in surprise.

“I’ll go call our supplier while we wait on the oven,” you really didn’t mean for your voice to sound so clipped. He seemed not to care, simply giving you a nod and going on with his task.

You left the kitchen almost stomping your feet in frustration, sitting down at the table furthermost from it. Whatever game Wooyoung was playing, it needed to stop now. You had tried time and time again, in the last few days, to get anything out of him. To try and patch things up and salvage them as best as you could. But you guessed he needed time, and with the opening just around the corner, you decided it was best to let him be. As long as you could work well together, everything would be fine.

Except the wall he’d put up was so high that you felt it was impossible to climb it or break through. 

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality, reminding you that you needed to find the supplier’s contact and call, murmuring something about being closed to whoever had just come in. 

“I figured,” the voice made every hair on your skin stand, plunging you back into prickly, cold, anxious times. As you looked up, you could barely believe your eyes.

“Mr. Hwang,” his name left your lips in an incredulous whisper. 

“It’s been a while,” he looked around, coming in. His eyes were inspecting thoroughly everything they could lay themselves on, scrutinizing all that might be out of place, or all that wasn’t, and had the ability to spark envy in an enviable man. “Nice place.”

“How may I help you?” 

“I have an offer to make you.”

Wooyoung nearly stumbled on his feet. When he’d walked out of the kitchen to see if anything had come of your call with the supplier, the last thing he’d expected was seeing you sat at a table with your old boss, having a chat, exchanging laughter. He’d quickly retreated, leaving you to it, seeing red. He didn’t need to know what was going on, nor did he want to. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he stared, unable to do anything else, at the timer of the oven ticking by. Every second you sat out there, was a second he needed to reason with himself and find out what the menacing grip that held his heart was. All Wooyoung knew was that he wished you’d walk through the kitchen doors, a bright smile on your face, ready to get back to work. 

And when you did, he couldn’t quite figure out the look on your face. He was dying to ask what Hwang wanted, no matter what it was, he needed whatever words you’d utter to soothe his burning curiosity. But you never spoke, keeping up your diligent work even past the timer dinging, through the kneading of the dough, its thirty-minute rest, and the several compressions through the pasta machine. He observed you carefully, like he always had, as you used a long knife to cut the noodles by hand as he was occupying the noodle cutter of the machine. Were you slipping through his fingertips again? His eyes on you had always felt like an encouraging, gentle caress. Always looking after and out for you. Wooyoung never noticed or wasn’t fully aware, that sometimes they still did. More often than not you felt the need to step away, or look away, under his gaze, caving in under his affection. 

You felt that you didn’t deserve to be looked at so tenderly, not anymore. 

He searched for words to say as the several pieces of dough were turned into noodles, but nothing came to mind. Nothing sounded right, not even in his head. Wooyoung let silence win this battle, preferring to let the whirring of the machine and the slicing of your knife talk, trying to work out all the tangled threads that were his thoughts. It was easy to mess up the noodles and have them stick together in an unsalvageable way; then you’d have to make them into dough again and put it through the machine, compressing it until it was ready to be cut up. He tried to treat his thoughts with the same care as noodles to avoid starting over. But Wooyoung wasn’t having the same luck. 

Your muttering from the other side of the kitchen prompted him to look your way, struggling to find some space in the refrigerator for your sheet-pans. He hid his smirk, tossing the last of his noodles with cornstarch.

“Why?” You turned around, hands on your hips, irritation barely at bay. Wooyoung raised a brow, doing his very best at pushing your buttons.

“Why did we make so many fucking noodles when we are stocked full?” 

“Because we need them,” he shrugged. “They’re tedious to make from scratch, it’ll make our lives easier.”

“Then you make space for them,” you huffed, hastily walking over to the dishwasher to start filling it with the utensils you’d just finished using. 

“What did Hwang want?” 

Wooyoung bit his tongue, watching how your back straightened at his question. He’d tried to sound casual, but the question turned out to be anything but. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, the longer he did, the more his nerves tested his peace of mind. Wooyoung watched as you froze, halting your movements, before turning to face him again. The furrow of your brow as you raked your eyes over him accelerated his heartbeat in mysterious ways, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Nothing important,” but it was to him. Wooyoung’s thoughts had taken him places he didn’t want to revisit. His heart had been swallowed with an all-consuming and unkindly familiar pain at the idea of you leaving him behind. Hwang had offered you a lot in the past, afforded you to realize your dreams, he knew that much. What could he give you, then?

“Then why did you take so long talking to him?” One way or the other, Wooyoung had to exorcize the sinking feeling in his chest along with the overpowering green monster resurfacing with all its might. The only way afforded to him now was to venomously spit his words to you.

“I’m not trying to put us in a hard place with our number one competitor,” you closed the loaded dishwasher behind you, coming closer to him, clouding his senses. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes and you lifted a brow, crossing your arms. 

“Fine, be that way,” you carelessly threw the towel that was resting on your shoulder upon the counter. “He came back to try and persuade me to work for him again.” 

And there they were, the words Wooyoung had feared the most. Someone who would whisk you away from him again as he watched helplessly, feeding into his fears. 

“I said no, Woo…” your voice put a halt to every thought drowning him, your eyes full of the same softness your voice was. Giving up the fight, extinguishing the fire of his worries, at the cost of your disappointment. You swallowed the bitter bite. “Did you really think I’d go back, that I’d leave this? That I’d leave you?”

His silence was answer enough. You nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Well, I wouldn’t.” 

You weren’t going to let him think like that, not now. 

“I wasn’t happy there, and there’s not a single thing he could offer that would make me as happy as you do.”

Wooyoung watched, stunned into silence, while you got rid of your jacket and murmured something about still having to call the supplier. The timid smile you gave him, eyes full of warm hope, moved something inside him that had been slowly waking up ever since you bumped into him down the street months ago. 

-

For so long, he’d tried to move on. In the end, it turned out that you wanted different things from him, and he had to accept that. Wooyoung couldn’t convince you to stay if you wanted to leave. So, with his heart aching and bursting at the seams with the hope that eventually you’d be back, he let you go. There was no way he could describe how he felt when he saw you again. Surprise struck him, leaving him disoriented for a long moment before his mouth spoke for him. As if his body had reacted to the presence of yours, remembering what it felt like to have you close. 

No, Wooyoung wasn’t surprised that he so readily welcomed you back into his life. You were trying, that much he could see, but he was, too. There was a battle going on inside his head that left him frustrated and confused when it came to you, to his feelings for you. His thoughts laid their armor down only in your presence. His heart knew you were the only one he’d ever truly loved. A love that bloomed at the wrong time, a fragile flower that didn’t survive the winter. Wilted and withered, you’d left him to mend the gashes. 

He did, only if it meant learning how to be without you, burning with the hope that one day, if the time was right, together you could grow flowers anew.

The chance was right there for him to take, and yet. It had taken him just a couple of hours after closing the kitchen to decide he needed to see you, and set things straight once and for all. 

“What are you doing here?” 

The sun was just about to set, gilded light flowing into your apartment from the window, bathing you in its gold. Wooyoung’s breath caught. For a fleeting instant, nothing else existed besides your confused pout and his erratic heartbeat. 

“Can we talk?” 

You nodded, opening the door wider to let him in, gesturing for him to follow to the kitchen. The sweet aroma hit him first, enveloping him, and he saw the cutting board in the sink after. It didn’t take him long to figure out you were making blackberry jam. 

“You’re stressed,” the words left his lips before he could realize he’d spoken them, your head jerking in his direction as you kept stirring the pot, only to nod right after. 

“Well, yeah, the opening’s just around the corner now and we-” your eyes fell back on the stove, briefly avoiding his. “What did you want to talk about?”

Wooyoung hesitated. He didn’t know. Rather, he was sure he needed to make things right. Clean the suffocating air of uncertainty when it came to you and what you were to him. What he was to you. You two were always good at dancing in the dark but now, in the light of day, it was hard to fall back into rhythm.  

“I’m sorry about the noodles,” he bit his tongue. Way to start. 

How could he say what he wanted to when his head was on fire? Still, you were there, waiting, occasionally stirring your jam, making his heart skip. Wooyoung sighed.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving.” 

Your hand halted its gentle movements, he saw your knuckles turning white. 

“Wooyoung-”

“No, let me say this,” he was pretty sure his lungs almost failed him when you turned to look at him, wide eyed, hanging onto his words. “I don’t really know how to act around you. At first, I wanted to be mad. Just a little bit, but found out quickly that after the anger was gone, there wasn’t much left. Just the part of me that wondered if you’d ever come back, if you missed me like I missed you. And if I push all the confusion back, it’s as easy as breathing. I never expected to want you with me as much as I do.” 

You turned off the flame, walking closer. 

“I never meant you any harm,” you were picking at your fingers, almost subconsciously, just like Wooyoung’s hand reached out to twine with yours, halting your nervous motions. “I‘m sorry that I let you down, and that I hurt you.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand with a small sigh, eyes cast on them. “We weren’t meant to last.”

The words bitterly echo in the quiet kitchen, almost lost in the burbling coming from the stove. Wooyoung was tempted to let go of your hand and walk out the door, fragile like a house of cards, as if it cost him his whole heart to tell you the truth. To expose his confusion in fear it may be an imposition.  

“No, Woo, not when I was so confused and only put my dreams first. Not when we had so much that we would’ve held each other from,” your watery smile hit him square in the chest, your words feeding his worries. “But I think we were always meant to be. I still… I’ve always held so much love for you.” 

Wooyoung stopped breathing, letting the sweet taste of your words wash over him.

“Can we start over?” you asked, tentative, searching his face for any sign that you may have crossed a line. “I want to be by your side, at your pace, we’ll be whatever you want us to be. I wasn't ready then but I am now, and I know it'll take time but I want you to know that I'll be there. No matter how long, I'll always be there.”

The unruled hope, that he’d been fighting to keep at bay, finally broke free and sparked a fire in his chest that swallowed up his heart, holding it in a fierce grip, burning. Your hopeful, misty eyes told him more than words could, more than he could ever dare to imagine. He had longed to see them from this close again. 

“Didn’t you say that mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster?” 

Behind the carelessly amused shrug of your shoulders, your untamed smile shined with bright happiness. The hand that wasn’t holding his tentatively rose to cup his cheek and Wooyoung wasted no time in leaning in and basking in its warmth.

“I think we’d make it.” 

Your promise was enough for him. Wooyoung rested his forehead against yours, finding home in your sweet perfume once again. You were finally back into his arms, to hold and to love. Once your lips met his hesitantly, almost afraid at first but feverishly at last, the sweet and pleasantly tart taste of your kiss assured his head and heart that everything would be alright.

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 15 - Sweets

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

For todays prompt I've gone with fics that prominently feature sweets/baking

The Boy Next Door by @monbons

Rated M, 46,862 words

Simon is a disaster. An utter disappointment. (Or at least, he feels that way.) Looking for a fresh start and some direction, he moves in with his Gran, who happens to live next door to the most mysterious boy Simon has ever met. A boy who never leaves his home. A boy no one ever visits. Determined to befriend his lonely neighbour, Simon ends up changing both of their lives in the process.

Camomile Sea by @sillyunicorn

Rated T, 6,274 words

Baz is content with life. He's got a cuddly cat, supportive friends and family, and plenty of GBBO to watch. What happens when he matches with someone with a sweet smile and puppy dog eyes on a dating app?

At the speed of light by @orange-peony

Rated E, 26,330 words

The bell goes ding, and I close my eyes. I hear the scraping sound of the chair in front of me. I inhale deeply as I try to mentally prepare for another five-minute-slot of pure agony as another imbecile tries and fails to seduce me. “I’m an arsonist,” I declare, my well-rehearsed opening line to discourage the next loser. “Nah, I reckon you’re just an arse,” the stranger in front of me replies. I finally open my eyes, and my vision is filled with a mass of bronze curls, freckles and moles. He’s sitting there with his legs spread wide, jutting his chin out and waiting for me to say something, a dare in his blue eyes. I try to ignore the fact that he’s a fucking wet dream come true and raise my left eyebrow at him. He’s not even wearing a pin to signal who he might be interested in. And he just called me an arse.

The Bother about Brownies by @aristocratic-otter and @hgari

Rated T, 4,845 words

Baz is tasked with creating a dessert for the triplets' school cake sale. Brownies are such an easy recipe. What could go wrong? Everything.

Large Black Coffee by @basic-banshee

Rated G, 19,280 words

“I glance at the cup before I raise it to my lips, and one eyebrow goes up when I see what ridiculous insult he’s written on the cup today.” Every day Baz comes in to get coffee, and every day he finds a new insult on his cup.

Pancakes and... CPR? by Takitalks

Rated M, 1,219 words

Baz wakes up to the sounds of Simon dancing around the kitchen, cooking pancakes with headphones on. But what exactly is he listening to?

Without Complexities or Pride by @mandilorian

Rated E, 15,463 words

Baz and Simon are heading to a garden party organised by Daphne in Oxford. Baz's parents are trying, so what's the harm in showing up and spending the night. Nothing interesting ever happens at a country house party, right? (So many things can happen at a party, it turns out.)

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[antonsgf]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ bf!anton pt. 2 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

bye this is so long overdue oops !! part one is here !!

bf!anton likes to send you little texts throughout the day just to update you on what he's doing while on schedules and he most definitely miss you :(

he would also send tik toks and .5 pics of his hyungs just for funisies and you should send some back !!!

speaking of tik toks, yall would spend hours creating some !! your drafts are filled with 100s of silly little videos

especially trendy couple vids like this one :))

bf!anton would definitely bring you around to hang out with his hyungs and of course they would tease him !!

but don't worry because you would definitely defend your man if needed be !!

like imagine one night yall are having a group movie night and you're all snuggled up next to tonny and giving him a smooch on the cheek

next thing you know eunseok is like "ugh get a room :P"

without a beat your response would be like "damn bro i would be mad too if i didn't have someone kissing up on me like get a gf :P"

everyone is like ":O ohhhhhh shit!" "you finally met your match hyung :)" lmao you and eunseok would go toe to toe !!

you gets down and you dont play about your tonny !! it's all jokes though so no worries :))

aside from that anton would feel so much pride and happiness from the sight of you getting along with his hyungs esp sohee !! but like sohee was lowkey his wingman tho LMAOOO

tonny is an unconfirmed taurus venus, which in my delulu head means one of his favorite things to do with you is taking a nap or cuddling which leads to said naps !!

he just give top tier cuddler like !! his arms look so warm and welcoming adafklhfjhafjhd

imagine yall cuddling up all nice and peaceful !! you're wearing one of his t-shirts and he's holding you all warm and snug throughout the night against his chest ahhh !! i would simply just die right then and there fr !!

the next morning you wake up with his arms still around you and you're like stuck physically because his arms are locked in !!

it's always the same scenario of you two being like

"ant we gotta get up :3" "ahh just five more minutes baby :3"

his sleepy self would refuse to let go because being bed with you is like paradise !! and he doesn't want it to end...unless...

"i'll make your special yogurt parfait you like for breakfast :)"

he would relunctantly let you go but only because how could he turn down his special greek yogurt parfait that he is more than capable of making himself made by the love of his life ???

and it's not even all that !! you literally found a recipe on tiktok and made it for him one day !! now he texts you every now and then wishing you were around to make it !!

"babe it's literally four ingredients ??" "but it's not the same when you don't make it :(("

food would be another part of his love language because we all know how much our boy loves his snacks !!

and how could you deny your boyfriend from a treat that's handmade from you ?? like make it make sense ??

thanks for reading and waiting lmaooo !! might make make this a series but no promises !!

feel free to send me asks or let me know what yall think :3

♡ kimmia ♡

[tenjikubaby]

i say let them cook 🔥🔥🔥

I have returned from the dead. Happy Izana and Mocchi anime debut + other Tenjiku member crumbs! Here, have a post that has been cooking in my drafts. 

RAN

Ran, cooking for himself, would go for easy, “lazy” recipes if ordering takeout wasn’t an option. If he’s cooking for you, though, he would want to impress. He’ll browse a bunch of recipe lists on his laptop and pick the most impressive-looking dishes thinking that cooking them “can’t be that hard.”

Goes on a trip to the grocery store for fresh ingredients, but soon finds out, after procrastinating his cooking that a) he got the wrong condiment/spice, or b) got the wrong cut of meat, or c) forgot a very important ingredient so Rindou kinda just finds his usually calm brother panicking in the kitchen because he doesn’t really want to disappoint. He soon regrets ever appearing because Ran sends him to the grocery store to get the right ingredients. 

Rindou’s troubles did not end there because Ran had him help out in the cooking process when the guy just wanted to play video games.  “Rindou, which one is the cilantro again?” “Rindou, slice the carrots.” “Rindou, why aren’t the slices even?” “Rindou, this is too salty. I think you oversea—” and poor Rin kind of just loses it.

RINDOU

He and Ran have the money to constantly eat out or order takeout, but ever since Rindou started following a diet, he’s learned to cook healthy dishes for himself. He’ll probably want to fix up something healthy for you too. What can I say, he cares about your health! Might actually scold you if he finds out you’ve been eating fatty stuff too often.

Rindou proposed the idea to you without thinking and didn’t expect you to agree so now he has to deliver! The pressure he feels to perform is no joke--like Ran, he would rather eat coal than disappoint his expectant S/O.

He’s a decent enough cook, more okay with getting his hands dirty than Ran. He’s no Kakucho, but he gets along just fine. If he can make food that’s edible and nutritious, then that’s good, right? But because of you, Rindou finds himself watching a bunch of how-to videos before the day of the house date.

Will be over the moon if you liked what he made! Eats up the praise and feels really good about himself. Does a dorky little fist pump and a deep sigh of relief once out of your sight. 

SHION

Shion always goes for fast food/junk food if not eating over at someone else’s place or bullying people into giving him money for food. This guy cannot cook. He’d have to ask for help from another S62 member for this. He tries to ask Mocchi, Mucho, Rindou, and even Izana but they all just refer him to Kaku. Shion would rather die before asking someone younger than him for help. I mean, Kaku is already stronger and better than him at fighting and he’s bitter about that. It takes you telling him that you’re looking forward to his dish that he finally gives in, swallows his pride, and asks for help.

Shion was a difficult student. He’s the type to keep insisting that he already knows all the procedures and cooking terms only to fail at them horribly. It takes all of Kaku’s patience for them to get through the recipe. 

When he gets something right, Shion starts to idealize cooking. He imagines himself finding a new passion in cooking, imagining Gordon Ramsay praising his dish, and running his own restaurant but this all stops when Kaku tells him to fry an egg.

IZANA

If he’s feeling stressed about preparations, the other Tenjiku boys have no choice but to help or else he’s going to make it everyone’s problem. They can even pinch stuff from your feast if they want.

Probably saves a bunch of recipes and has trouble deciding which ones to cook for you because he wants to make them all. Kaku helps him settle on a few easy dishes (”No, Izana. We can’t make Risotto. That’s difficult for beginners.”)

I’d place him at a spot higher than Rindou and Ran if we were to rank them all. Izana doesn’t really need that much help figuring out how things are done if he’s never done them before. Would feel more confident attempting to experiment in the kitchen. Has a thing for decorating too.

To buy ingredients, he would use his gang money to get everything he needs. For you, he’ll go for fancier/pricier than what he usually gets for himself. Would not just cook one dish as well. Would make up an entire feast for the both of you. Likes a dinner date with lights and everything. Might even play his guitar for you or put on a movie.

KAKUCHO

You don’t even need to ask Kaku to cook for you because he’ll want to do it the moment he falls in love. Anniversaries are where he’d prepare a whole candlelit dinner for the two of you. There’d be a full-course meal consisting of food you both enjoy.

Like Rindou, Kaku can be health-conscious (though I’d say Rindou is stricter on himself), and would want to make nutritious stuff for you. He’s got this double standard where he’s okay with eating really unhealthy food from time to time but doesn’t want you to do the same.

He’d be more prepared than the others. Kaku takes note of any allergies you may have, or ingredients that you love/hate. He knows how to deal with picky eaters too. If you hate some veggies because of their texture, then he’ll find a way to make them you-friendly.

MOCCHI

I headcanon that he goes to the gym with Rindou and Kaku and has traded recipes with them once in a while though Mocchi would eat anything from healthy to unhealthy, because he can “work it all off” anyway.

Mocchi’s a great cook. His dishes are more of the homey, hearty comfort food type. He learned to cook from his mom, so a lot of the stuff he makes were recipes learned from her. It’s also kind of a way for him to share his childhood with his loved one/s.

If you like corn like he does, then good for you! He’ll find a way to put corn in any and every dish he makes. For him, you just can never go wrong with corn. But if you don’t like corn, he’d be unable to comprehend that fact for a while before deciding to adjust his recipes for you.

MUCHO

Mucho would be great at desserts. He dreams to run a cafe someday, so he has learned to cook and bake and make coffee early on. In fact, I think he’d make you try a lot of these recipes before putting them on his future cafe menu. 

He takes this all really seriously and it’s endearing. He asks for your constructive criticism after you try the food and makes sure to create a good ambiance where you’re eating too. To top it all off, he’ll even play some relaxing instrumentals in the background!

Each dish in the meal complements each other wonderfully. He selects the perfect side dishes to go with what, and the perfect drink and dessert to go with it all. It’s such a well-planned meal and you can tell he really put thought into it. 

There is a soft smile on his face as he watches you enjoy the food. He’s a big Acts of Service guy, I just know it. 

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Movie night

Ace x reader (she/her)

Chapter 4 of And they were roommates - Modern AU series

It was late in the evening, and Ace stood outside your room, his heart pounding harder than it had any right to. He had spent the better part of the evening psyching himself up, trying to convince himself that this was nothing more than a friendly invitation. A simple movie between roommates. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He knocked on your door, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Hey, you there?” The sound echoed in the quiet corridor, and for a moment, he wondered if you could hear the nerves in his voice.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened, and there you stood, curiosity written all over your face. “Yeah?”

Ace forced a grin, willing himself to look casual. “I was just wondering... if you wanted to watch a movie together. I thought it might be nice.” He cursed himself internally—nice? How lame could he sound?

Surprise flickered across your face, but you quickly masked it with feigned casualness. “Watch a movie? Sure. What did you have in mind?” You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as if to hide the excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

Ace felt a rush of relief wash over him; you had agreed. “Great! I was thinking, maybe something light and fun. How about a comedy?” he suggested, trying not to seem too eager.

You nodded, a small but genuine smile playing at the corners of your mouth. “Sounds good to me. Let me just grab some blankets and pillows, and I'll join you in the living room.”

As you retreated into your room, Ace let out a slow breath. He could hardly believe this was actually happening. He moved quickly, almost as if rushing would prevent him from overthinking, and started arranging cushions on the couch, adjusting the space for comfort, all the while trying to shove away the nervous energy bubbling inside him. He set out snacks—chips, popcorn, a couple of beers. It kept his hands busy and his mind somewhat steady, though nothing stopped the thrill buzzing in his chest.

Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep your heart rate under control. Spending a cozy evening watching a movie alone with Ace could be either a recipe for disaster or a sweet torture. A part of you was thrilled by the idea, while another part whispered warnings of vulnerability and unspoken feelings. Nevertheless, you found yourself smiling, strangely eager for the evening ahead.

By the time you emerged from your room, carrying a pile of blankets and pillows, Ace had composed himself, though not entirely. He watched as you entered the living room, your gaze falling on the array of snacks he'd set out and your eyes lighting up in a way that sent a warm rush through his chest.

“Thanks for getting all this ready,” you said, your smile widening, making him feel as if he had accomplished something special.

Ace chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No problem. Oh, and I also have a couple of beers, if you're interested.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You really thought of everything, huh? Sure, I’ll have one.” There was a playful tone in your voice, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at having anticipated your needs.

You settled down on the couch, arranging the blankets and pillows around you with a comfortable ease. Ace joined you, trying to maintain some distance between you.

He handed you a beer, and as your fingers brushed against each other for a brief moment, both of you felt a jolt of electricity. The world outside faded away as you quickly drew your hands back, laughter escaping in nervous bursts.

Ace cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. He reached for the remote to start the movie, his voice steadying as he asked, “So… ready to press play?”

You took a sip of your beer, the cool liquid did little to calm your nerves, but it gave you something to focus on. “Yep, ready when you are.”

Ace caught himself sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. The glow of the TV illuminated your face, your eyes flickering with every change in the scene. He caught himself focusing on the subtle smile that appeared whenever something funny happened, more fascinated with your expressions than the movie itself.

You, too, found yourself risking quick glances in his direction. And each time your eyes met, there was an instant flurry of heat before you both looked away, feigning interest in the movie.

About halfway through the movie, you made a sharp, sarcastic comment about one of the more ridiculous scenes, your dry humor cutting through the tension. Ace let out a genuine laugh, the sound breaking the invisible barrier that had been building between you.

“You really have a biting sense of humor sometimes,” he said, turning toward you with a wide grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Your playful banter ignited a back-and-forth exchange that flowed effortlessly, like a well-rehearsed duet. “What can I say? I like to keep it real,” you quipped, leaning back on the couch and crossing your arms playfully. “Someone has to point out the obvious.”

From there, the awkward tension melted away as your playful banter ignited into a back-and-forth rhythm that felt effortless. Your laughter mingled with his, and soon, the distance between you on the couch had shrunk to almost nothing. You shared the snacks, your hands brushing now and again as you reached for popcorn or gummy bears.

Soon, movie nights became a regular feature in your evenings. Whether it was a comedy, a thriller, or a drama, you found yourselves on the couch more often than not. The pretext of watching a movie became a flimsy excuse to spend time together, each night filled with the same warmth and laughter that marked the first. And each night, as the credits rolled, there was always a little less distance between you than the night before.

Next chapter

[zoeykallus]

Hey I absolutely love your writing and wanted to ask you if you could do a batch ,rex,Wolffe,Gregor Howzer x reader

I just had my finals and I absolutely nailed it

I got one of the best scores in my country and will be able to go to every University I want and my family celebrated with Champagne (my parents sister aunt etc.) what would my clone and I do and how would they act in such a family moment (the first or second time they see my parents and don’t know my other family members)

I would really love to see this and you would make me so happy.

Aloha!

Firstly, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here! Secondly, CONGRATULATIONS! That's so awesome! I'm proud of you and so are our clone men 😁

The Bad Batch/Rex/Wolffe/Gregor/Howzer x Reader HCs - Proud Family Moment

Mostly Fluff

_________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Hunter

He is so happy for you! Hunter is very proud, but also a little nervous to meet your family. He dresses up neatly and brings souvenirs for everyone. He wants to make a good impression.

Flowers, chocolates, champagne, even balloons for you. Even though he might get some critical looks at first, among other things because of his rather conspicuous tattoo on his face, his smart, calm, and kind nature quickly wins over your family.

The way he treats you and looks at you, full of respect, pride and affection, quickly catches everyone's attention. He cares for you, reads your every wish from your lips. Hunter has quickly won not only your heart.

You are the center of the attention, and Hunter is happy to see how happy you are.

Echo

He may seem a little stiff at first, but that's because he's nervous and wants to do everything right. He is immensely proud of you. Echo has brought food, homemade of course, only the finest and other small gifts for you and your family.

It takes a little while, but he finally thaws out and feels really comfortable with you and your family. He even exchanges a few recipes with your aunt and has a pleasant man to man conversation with your father.

Echo feels honored that you and your family let him participate in this moment, and he also thanks you, very solemnly with a little speech in which he also speaks very proudly, about you and your success, which is applauded and well received by everyone.

Wrecker

The hearty giant takes all hearts by storm. He makes jokes, takes care of the drinks for everyone and every time your eyes meet, he beams at you proudly, lovingly.

Your family likes him very much, he is so open and warm. He is not too shy and quickly gets into conversation with people. He speaks highly of you, how much he likes you is more than obvious, and this goes down well with your family.

Wrecker is very grateful for the invitation, he likes that you include him, he likes to be a part of you, your life.

You don't have to worry about anything today, Wrecker serves you from front to back, and he does it with pleasure.

"Let me do that for you!" he says and gets you something to eat, "I'm so proud of you, sweetie".

Tech

He is incredibly proud of you. Tech has often studied with you and gone through your study material with you.

At the party with your family, however, he is unusually quiet at first, afraid to say the wrong thing or to make a mess with his special way. But he gradually thaws out. His gentle, intelligent manner is very well received.

He talks a lot and your family asks a lot of questions, fascinated by the knowledge Tech carries around with him.

His smile is small, almost gentle, but his eyes light up every time your eyes meet. Tech is very proud of you and incredibly grateful to be here to celebrate with you and your family. He's never had much of a real family, aside from his brothers, but this feels like home.

Crosshair

You could not persuade him to come to the family celebration. Crosshair wrestled with himself for a long time, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He is just not ready yet. However, that doesn't change the fact that he is incredibly proud of you.

You have a date for the evening, after the party. Corsshair is there much too early, waiting on the street corner with a feeling in his stomach as if he had swallowed a big stone. He feels he let you down when he declined the invitation.

He waits until you come out, waves to you. Crosshair has flowers for you and a fancy bracelet, a small gift for the successful graduation.

"Are you mad?" he asks as you smile and put on the bracelet.

You look at him questioningly.

"What, why?"

"Because I wasn't at the ceremony," he says meekly, still feeling the rock in his stomach.

You kiss his cheek and say, "No Cross, I'm not. You're not ready, and that's okay."

A small smirk appears on his lips.

Rex

He is so proud, has told everywhere about it, no matter if people want to hear it or not, somehow he always manages to slip your degree into a conversation.

You're already afraid people won't like you anymore because they're constantly being chatted up about you by him.

Of course, he comes to the family party. Disciplined, polite and decent as Rex is, he is well received by your family.

He pushes chairs, helps people out of their jackets, pours drinks for the women present, and is, as always, a gentleman. He quickly becomes the center of attention, even when he doesn't want to be. Every now and then he throws you a wry smile or a wink, while your aunt hangs on his arm and asks him a thousand questions.

You can't blame her, how could anyone not like Rex?

Wolffe

Oh, he is very proud of you, very happy about your success. But he would rather celebrate with you alone.

At first, he doesn't really want to come to the family party, he thinks he would only disturb them, but you can persuade him. Of course, he has flowers for you and a bottle of fine, sweet wine from Naboo.

The stoic, serious Wolffe is looked at quite critically at first, partly because he seems so gloomy and serious. But he and your father strike up a conversation, and slowly the good Wolffe thaws out. You watch them for a while and are fascinated by how lively they talk, they seem to get along very well.

Wolffe's gaze briefly wanders to yours, he smirks and winks at you, his way of saying that it was a good idea for him to come along.

Gregor

He is enraptured, totally thrilled.

"That's great, I'm so proud of you!" he exclaims, twirling you around.

Of course, he comes along to the family party. Gregor is just a little shy for a moment, but quickly finds his way in and into various conversations with your relatives. You hear his sweet giggle over and over and smile in satisfaction.

He helps your father at the barbecue, in between handing out drinks, happily contributing and already feeling almost at home himself.

He is so gentle and at the same time full of energy that you can only watch him grinning. Gregor beams at you as your eyes meet. Gregor is very proud of you and very happy to be here and celebrate with you and your family.

Howzer

You are so disappointed. Howzer canceled at short notice, an unexpected mission is coming up, and he has to leave the planet. Actually, you are still happy, you are proud, and rightly so. But the fact that Howzer had to cancel at such short notice drags your mood down quite a bit, against your will.

With a sigh you enter the house, having bought some cake, when you see that everyone is in the garden. And if your eyes don't deceive you, Howzer is there too. You hurry outside and stare at the people present, your family, Howzer.

There is a large pavilion set up in the garden, a buffet table, benches and tables, all decorated with balloons and flowers.

It turns out Howzer lied to you to surprise you, he planned all this with your family behind your back from the start, got the decorations, seating, drinks and the pavilion.

He beams at you, "Congratulations sweetie, we are all very proud of you. Sorry about the little white lie."

You push the cake into your aunt's hands, who almost drops it, and you fall around Howzer's neck, who hugs you warmly.

[matenrou-fan]

May I request Diavolo and Lucifer in a poly relationship with a female baker reader?

Diavolo x fem! baker! s/o x Lucifer

femreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff;;

-Ooh, poor Barbatos.. He has a competition now right here..

-Well, but can I really call it 'competition' if we all already know the winner? Of course it would be you. Because both your boyfriends are waiting for your baking more than for holidays.

-"Mm.. This pie that you made today, s/o.. It's absolutely fantastic!" - Diavolo laughs, with his casual loud tone. - "I haven't eaten something so sweet for centuries! And the dough is so soft it's like it's melting in my mouth.."

"Oh, Dia, stop it.." - You can't help but chuckle too, as it's really hard to stay calm and serious when the young Lord is smiling like that. - "You literally had a little tea party with Lucifer yesterday, aren't you? I'm sure Barbatos treated you two with no less yummy things.."

"Great considerable skill, even if it was developed and gone deeper through a hundred years, will never withstand a pure savour of real love.." - low chuckle escapes Lucifer's lips as he looks at you. - "It more feels not like the softness of the dough, but more like the softness of your caring heart, s/o.."

"What a great way to compliment, Lucifer!" - Diavolo gets surprised along with you, then titters shyly. - "Ahh, now I want to amuse s/o with my grateful words too.. Or maybe a kiss would be better to show my appreciation..?"

-It doesn't matter if baking is your job or just a hobby, your boyfriends would spoil you with presents to help you improve your skill and learn something new.

-And they both will choose everything themselves. For example, Lucifer can just ask (order?) Satan checks the library or bookstore for new recipe books for you, because his little brother knows these places inside out. Yet he prefers to go all alone, slowly exploring store shelves, flipping through different books. He will try to find something with only new interesting recipes, or with the things you say you wanted to bake..

-And Diavolo can just rely on his loyal servant's taste, as Barbatos is really good at finding high-quality spices and seasonings for his own cooking.. But your lover would go with his underling, to choose something himself, that he thinks would please your soul. Hm, aren't you talking about these expensive sprinkles a few days ago?

-Uh.. But there's so many magic items in Devildom, who knows what ended up in your arms this time?

-"Hm.. These strudels you made this time, darling. They're so much sugar.." - Diavolo mumbled, quickly draining his cup of tea. - "Even for me.. It's so sweet.."

"Was something in your mind when you baked it, s/o..?" - Lucifer also seems so unpleasant after a few bites, cause he had less sweet tooth than your other lover.

"I'm sorry.. Apparently, the baking soda I added this time had some magic effect.." - with blush on your cheeks, your gaze was fixed on a small package, too ashamed to look at your beloved demons.

"Mm? There's a small footnote.. If someone will use it for cooking for their lover, the level of sugar in the final product will increase depending on the strength of their love.." - Lucifer gets behind you and leans closer, reading over your shoulder.

For a moment you all froze.. How can you not notice this small note?! Yet then a prideful demon smirked, watching as your face got even more red:

"Oh.. how sweet of you, s/o.."

"I.. I have no choice but to savor every last bit of your love in that case, s/o.." - Diavolo nods as his cheeks also get redder, and he places another piece of strudel in his mouth with a more pleasant face.

"I also suddenly have an appetite for more.."

-I also totally can see Diavolo willing to learn something himself to understand what you're talking about, just because he gets kinda jealous when see you chatting with Barb about some new topping you find.

-"Oh! Yes, I do understand..!" - sparkles of joy flash in his pale yellow eyes, making it shine almost like gold. - "You're talking about bicarbonate of soda, aren't you..?"

"Hehe, no, dear.. It's cream of tartar, actually" - a small smirk appears on your lips. You were showing them both the new ingredients you bought for your next dessert, and it looks like Diavolo gets really interested. - "Well, but your guess was kinda close.."

"Since when did you start to understand something in baking? Or at least try to understand, Diavolo?" - your other lover smirks too, looking at different bags in your arms.

"W-well.. I just thought if I would know more I would be able to support s/o more in her interest.." - a small blush appears on Diavolo's cheeks as he looks away, shooting his eyes with furrowed brows in embarrassment.

"Oh! Then maybe we should ask our little darling to teach us?" - Lucifer's amused gaze meets yours. - "What do you think about it, chef?"

-Kitchen in House of Lamentation survived enough things already, so it turns for Demon Lord's Castle's Kitchen now. Cause it's gonna be an interesting experience..

-Lucifer would try to do everything accurately and carefully. He's an avatar of Pride, after all, he wants to surprise you with his cooking skill and receive some praise and compliments from you. When Diavolo would be more goofy, using this quality time not only to learn something but just to fool around with you.

-And everything ended up with Lucifer also playing along with your antics, forgetting about his role as strict partner, and actually enjoying some silly time. Yes, he will also love corny things like smearing each other's noses in cream or getting the whole kitchen in flour..

-"Huh.. I always scold my brother for this mess they always make in our place when it's their time to make dishes.. But it turns out I'm no better than them.." - Lucifer mumbled with furrowed brows and crossed arms after you three calmed down, and was just standing, catching your breath, all in dough, cream and glaze.

"Hahaha! But it was absolutely delightful, wasn't it?" - the loud laugh of Diavolo thundered through the whole kitchen, as he was even more excited and playful than usual now. - "I'm sure it would be the most delicious thing we all ever taste..!"

"Well, we will know after half an hour.." - you giggle, looking at the working oven. - "I think this time would be enough for us to clean at least part of this mess.."

"You're right.. Just please, never tell my brothers about this thing.." - Lucifer's voice gets quieter as he looks at you with a soft gaze. - "I don't want them to know about this side of me.. It's our little secret, okay?"

"Then maybe we should keep the whole situation confidential?" - Diavolo chuckles, his fingers on his lips. - "Despite the fact that I do want to brag a little about our ultimate cake, I also wish that this tea party would be enjoyed by just the three of us.."

[sombredancer]

Enemies/Rivals to Lovers recipe

(with the mild version aka Pride and Prejudice and the tragic version aka Romeo and Juliet) Step 1: The main heroes are on the opposite sides of any scale (the grumpy one vs a cheerful one, a kind and stupid one vs a cunning and vile one, a demon vs a god, a master vs a servant, people of enemy states or absolutely different cultures etc.).

A cheerful and funny little bird demon-yao Qing Qing and a grumpy and stone-faced deity of Netherworld Xue Qianxun Step 2: They are forced to communicate with each other without a chance to avoid it (e.g. an arranged marriage, being trapped somewhere together, working as a mole in the enemy camp etc.).

Asura King Xuan Ye plays out damsel in distress to get undercover into Heavenly Realm and his future lover Ran Qing is the one who "rescues" him.

Step 3: One party get impressed by unique character features of other (e.g. the person is the only one who isn't terrified by other's scary reputation, the only one who treats other party well etc.).

Even kings and princes are in absolute terror seeing Gwi - an immortal all-powerful vampire, and only Hye Ryung hates him so much that dares to bicker, scold and deny him. Step 4: One of the parties takes the first step towards another and that melts another`s heart.

Even if Hou Ling Changjin hurt Princess Bao Zhu for her miraculous blood, she still cares for him and doesn`t hold a grudge.

"You are injured!"

Step 5: Here come mutual pining, UST and moral sufferings "what is more important: to fulfil the mission / to be accepted by the society / whatsoever or to love?"

Gong Shangjue doubts if he can indulge himself being gentle with the girl he likes if she is an assassin from the enemy clan.

Shangguan Qian adds Shangjue`s favorite flowers into her tea and thinks about her mission of taking him down.

Step 6: It`s time to confess the feelings.

Leader of a diabolic sect Li Chenlan comes to save his beloved who hated him and tried to kill him and promises her to be her sword and shield. So romantic!

Step 7: The parties try to solve the problem that keeps them apart. If the problem is internal (it has something to do with beliefs and prejudice of a person), here it will be solved and «happily ever after» begins.

Despite of his low social status Hao Du ventures to participate in the competition, wins the right to marry the princess (who he is in love with) and dares to be honest explaining that he did it not only in order to save her from a Barbarian prince but because he truly wants to be with her. Step 8: If the problem is external (there is a large-scale conflict and the parties are just some insignificant participants of it), one of the parties sacrifices themselves to solve the problem.

Before saving the world by the cost of his life Demon God Tantai Jin engraves his name on his own tombstone placed next to his beloved wife's one, so in the future she could mourn him in a suitable place.

Step 9: In a satisfying story there is a magical reward of party's brave deed, which is a happy end.

Demon Lord Dongfang Qingcang sacrificed himself in order to save the girl he loved and died but his girlfriend (who happens to be a Goddess with abilities to resurrect the dead) nurtured a piece of his primordial spirit for 500 years and brought him back to life. Side note: If you want to add some chili pepper into your story, you can break this scheme any step from Step 4 on: pining could be one-sided, UST could never ever be resolved, characters could prefer their goals to love or maybe death or other circumstances would do them apart against their will.

The Wolf and Ma Zhaixing finally got together but the cruel world couldn`t allow it to last anytime long.

Bon Appétit! Your Enemies to Lovers story is well-baked!

Also you can see: Asian dramas and Love tropes Asian dramas and my favorite types of characters Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 1) Asian dramas and relationship dynamics (Pt. 2)

[blacksailskmeme]

Black Sails Kink Meme 2024 Round Up: May-June

Hi there pirate fam!

As of today the Kink Meme has collected 130 prompts and 26 fills! Wow!!! 🥳🥳

As I said, I’ve decided to do a round up post for each month the kink meme is live, showcasing those fills submitted to the collection monthly.

We skipped a separate May roundup because things had quieted down for a bit, but in June y'all popped right back up! Happy Hot Kink Meme Summer, we'll be here all of July as well, accepting prompts and fills alike! ☀️☀️

Here ya go: all the fics submitted in May and June gathered in one place for your convenience and enjoyment! ✨

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Flames of Desire By John Silver, SilverFlint, 4183 words

(For PROMPT #71: silver pre series writes filthy rpf of him and captain flint (think kidnapped by the pirate styles bodice rippers) and then he actually ends up kidnapped by flint and tries to seduce him bc of course he does and flint Resists but silver keeps throwing himself at flint until he finally gives in 😈)

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Flavor, SilverFlint, 4088 words

(For PROMPT #72: s3-s4 break, Silver likes how Flint smells sweaty and ripe after they do sword drills on the cliffs, so he keeps distracting with questions or bullshit ship tasks Flint after training so that he doesn't have time to wash up before his other meetings. culminating in flint clocking what's he's doing, getting fed up, and making Silver give him a tonguebath one morning. Copious sweat and armpit hair licking is a MUST.)

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Recipe For Disaster, Silverflint; Silver/Others, 5655 words

(For PROMPT #50: Bad Cook Silver accidentally aphrodisiac poisons the crew. Take it any direction you want, but my idea is that he buys a sketchy potion in a port somewhere, planning to put it in Flint's food because he wants Flint to be helplessly attracted to him for manipulation/blackmail reasons. However through shenanigans, it ends up getting added to everyone's food BUT Flint and, oh no! the whole crew is horny for Silver. Flint, who did NOT get dosed (but maybe thinks he did?) has feelings about this.)

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For Her, FlintMadi, 1433 words

(For PROMPT #26: Madi is eaten out while menstruating. Dealer's choice who is slurping her up, could be multiples)

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Enter Leviathan, Silver/Sea Monster; SilverFlint, 2742 words

(For PROMPT #4: The War Ship is guarded by more than men. They have somehow captured a sea creature and are keeping it under decks. It gets loose during the interrogation, and Flint (still tied to the chair) watches as Silver gets tentacle fucked into oblivion.)

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first prize, SilverFlint, Silver/Others, 4088 words

(For PROMPT #94: some sort of s1/2 au. Flint is fucking Silver, but sometimes he lets a chosen few members of his crew have a go at Silver if they did well on a raid. Lending and voyeurism (Flint watches), Silver feels a mix of humiliation from being used like this and weird messed up pride from being such a Prized Possession that he's being given to people as a prize)

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Bot Love, FlintHam; SilverFlintHam, 5293 words

(For PROMPT #84: Inspired by the porn bots flooding the tumblr black sails tag. Modern AU. POV James. Thomas uses tumblr because he runs an account posting about bawdy quotes from poems/classics. James thinks it's ridiculous (social media at all, that is). One day he looks over Thomas's shoulder and sees such a porny advertise (something along the tacky line of "who wants to play with my cute butt") featuring a picture of Silver or well, parts of his body, in a tantalizing position. Thomas realises that James is very very turned on by it (James is angry about being turned on but damn, that's a really nice ass) and clicks the link. This is followed by a steamy video chat with Silver fucking himself with a huge dildo on his bed. Meanwhile, Thomas gives James a handjob or blowjob or... more (your choice). Bonus points if Thomas pays Silver a very generous tip in the end and if they end up exchanging contact details for a meeting in person (Silver, a poor student, sees his chance to become the sugar baby to these two obviously very rich and hot couple)

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Close Combat, Miranda/Anne, 3261 words

(For PROMPT #117: Miranda and Anne fight sex :) maybe a Miranda lives au or just set sometime in s1 or 2, but Miranda decides she wants to learn how to fight. flints fight style doesn't work for a thin woman, and Miranda hears about how skilled and feared Anne bonny is, so she seeks her out for training. during the course of the training, the sexual tension grows and then breaks and they have nasty rough sex on the ground - something neither of them could get with flint or max who love them too much to be rough nd dirty with them)

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Captain's Treasure, SilverFlint; Silver/Others, 1883 words

(For PROMPT #94: some sort of s1/2 au. Flint is fucking Silver, but sometimes he lets a chosen few members of his crew have a go at Silver if they did well on a raid. Lending and voyeurism (Flint watches), Silver feels a mix of humiliation from being used like this and weird messed up pride from being such a Prized Possession that he's being given to people as a prize)

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Thanks again to all of our May and June contributors! Here’s to more unapologetically smutty, kinky fills for July~~ 🥳🥳