#and a madeleine is a small baked treat

[meerkat-sims]

Sugar Valley mayoral hopeful Orion Oreo Spark, his wife Serene Snowberry Spark, and their daughter Maia Madeleine Spark*. Don't let that shy smile fool you, she's one headstrong young berry.

*The couple's young son, Hyas Hershey Spark, is currently away at boarding school.

[nc-vb]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝

it is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. instead, it only proves to make the water levels rise a few millimeters.

pairing -> neuvillette x gn!reader

warnings -> sfw, sad neuvi & reader, smooching

notes -> reader's position is a non-canon one

character mentions -> lady furina, fontaine npcs, non-canon melusine characters

wc -> 2.1k

It wasn’t so often that the paths of you and your lover could so seamlessly cross.

As one might assume, governing a nation is not a walk in the park, nor is it a part-time position. It is a twenty-four-seven, midnight-to-midnight, no-matter-how-small-the-crisis job that someone has to take responsibility for— with Monsieur Neuvillette, the Chief Justice, leading the charge of each court proceeding and Lady Furina as its grandest witness, and you, the Maison Ordalie's Directeur Général, helping them to uphold Fontaine’s values and protecting its honour from outside the marbled walls of the Opera Epiclese, Fontaine is a tightly-run ship that seldom allows for its men to enjoy much free time.

Though when it did, finally exiting the realm of your job responsibilities only then meant having to catch up on your neglected home responsibilities— tackling the towers of only partially rinsed dishes; taking out the trash you just knew would be stinking up your foyer since you’d put it there three days ago (which had been the last time you’d even been inside your home); rewashing the load of laundry you’d run out of time to hang up to dry and now was, most likely, moulding from being left in basket, still damp. Ah, and there’s probably so much more you’d been forgetting about.

This cyclic routine of yours had become nauseating a long time ago, only proving capable of transfiguring your already sour mood into something brazenly foul. Typically, there were very few things to exist that could improve it again, but the soft, muffled knocking on your front door by one of your sweet Melusine neighbours when she realized you’d finally returned home, fortunately, is one of those few things.

More often than not, she would bake once the weekend began, knowing you to be around at least long enough to be able to consume perhaps one of her newly learned confections. Somedays, you’d even been lucky enough to sit and enjoy them together whilst enjoying the views from under your shared garden’s gazebo. Being that you lived on the first floor of a three-floored pied-à-terre with three other Melusine living above you, who had also been found lucky to have much more manageable lifestyles, they often cared for the plants of the garden when you could not.

Even luckier for you, though, was having such kind neighbours that would go out of their way to take care of those aforementioned chores for you. Garden tended; garbage bags mysteriously vanished from the inside stoop; dishes sparkling clean and put away in their respective cupboards; laundry thought a lost cause having been hung up, dried, and folded, awaiting your return for them to be returned to their drawers— none of this had been you. Elsie, your second floor neighbour, had been the culprit, you learn, having rounded up her sisters Elie and Eloie two days prior to your return to surprise you.

“Have you seen Monsieur Neuvillette lately?” Elsie inquires, looking up to you from her place on your stoop. When you step aside to let her in, she shakes her head, lavender-coloured ears whipping about. “I won’t be staying. I only came to say hello and to give these to you.”

“Oh, I see,” you say, accepting the circular tin she raises toward you. Cracking it open a few inches, you smile at the soft treats. “Madeleines! Thank you, Elzie. And, to answer your question, no… I haven’t seen him lately… not even for work.”

“You’re quite welcome. Please find time to share them with the Monsieur today, then. Sedene mentioned he looked restless this morning.”

Without missing a beat, your heart skips one of its own, and your expression twists habitually guiltily. You know full well your absence from him, and vice versa, isn’t to be helped, and that the two of you have had this same conversation many times over. But it never proves to help whenever someone else points out either of your miseries.

You’d always thought the Palais Mermonia to be particularly cold, in company’s sense. It never mattered that it was always full of people, of employees, and even of Lady Furina’s raucous, nails-on-a-chalkboard cackle of a laugh, because you knew its Chief Justice much too well. In spite of his assurances that he would be alright, mind occupied by having to organize new cases and sort out the old ones, it wouldn’t be too long of a time later that you found the skies overcast, and yourself drenched by a sudden downpour.

You supposed, after saying your farewells to Elsie, locking your front door, and making your way to the other end of the Court of Fontaine, that today would be no different. Of course, you remembered to carry your parasol on you this time, accompanied by the tin of fresh-baked madeleines you promised Elsie to eat up. Today, the sky was shining blue, quite literally only minutes ago. So, either something sad or distressing has crossed his path, or, he’d been feeling sentimental again, because it’s raining again.

At the very least, you hope the cause for it to be the latter. This way, it can easily be remedied by you appearing before him, rather than him being consumed by the details of a case so heavily, and for an unspecified period of time. And there have been too many of these as of late that compared to last year’s weather, one might consider the possibility of that prophecy coming true just a little sooner.

Clutching the cookies tighter to you and keeping a firm grip on the handle of your parasol, you hasten across the bridge of the Court Region Waterway untoward the Palais Mermonia, greeting Bruneau and Liath and Plessia as you pass. The main doors are heavy, but even with your arms full, you manage to pry one of them open enough to enter the building.

You don’t both to carry your umbrella with you — it would just be yet another mess the building’s staff would have to trail after you for to clean — and instead shove it into the corner to let it drip there, telling the one guard that you would return for it, and them saluting you in acknowledgement.

Inside the Palais Mermonia has always been a plethora of people, staff and guards and visitors alike, but it is as you’d said— there’s a certain degree of emptiness to it that unsettles you whenever you visit here. Perhaps the grave amount of case files that sat in the archives surrounding Monsieur Neuvillette’s office cast such a dreary spell over the place; having been the one to compile many of them, yourself, for his records, you know firsthand just how dark some of their contents had been— to have to pass those off and share them with your lover had been your major grievance for your position. There’d been nothing you hated more than sitting in during his readings and seeing his expression change from the joy of having you appear to him, to the rage and sorrow of taking in the details of a new case. In those moments, you made sure to hold him a little tighter, a little closer, and speak just a little sweeter to him, a little softer.

The rain would, eventually, subside.

You push open the door to his office as gently as possible, and shut it just as carefully so as not to startle him. Without looking first to confirm, you know that he sits at his desk, pouring over the day’s files and records while it pours outside. His stoicism masked the obvious, though at least, this had been to you only— something was weighing heavily enough on his mind that it’d begun to affect the weather outside. Spending enough time with the man made this easy to tell.

“Neuvillette,” you softly call to him when he’d yet to look up. He jerks slightly in his seat, stiff shoulders losing their tension upon recognizing your voice, and the corner of his lips rise before his eyes can even meet yours.

“My love.”

If having you appear in a room filled with such disheartening unkindness is his relief, yours had always been the advent of a smile on Neuvillette’s face. A rare glimpse of the peace you often find yourself daydreaming over while away, the rush of pure joy you feel at the sight of your lover relishing your presence is nearly akin to the blessing of the gods— you only embrace him tightly enough and hope this feeling reaches him.

Nose pressed into the side of your head, hands and arms cradling you almost impossibly close to him, he breathes you in as deeply as physically possible— yes, his gesture promises.

You raise your chin from his chest and peer up at him, grin lazed and tired but pleased all the same.

“You were finally released from your duties?”

“If it were easy to delegate them to my juniors, it might’ve taken less time to escape,” you muse, hands sliding down his robes to claim his hands in yours— he squeezes them gently, grateful. “No one seems to know how to write a proper report anymore; I feel like I’m grading homework.” Neuvillette laments at the sudden shift in your expression, its complete opposite serving to dim the light in your eyes. By the way your grip tightens beneath his fingers, he supposes it must have little to do with your subordinates, after all.

“It’s… been raining for so long now,” you mumble into him, cookie tin forgotten atop his desk. “I tried to hurry to you, I-I…”

Neuvillette’s hand shifts along one of yours, quick to fit thin, nimble fingers in between your trembling ones. He lifts it, and presses your palm and fingertips into the smooth, porcelain coolness of his cheek— few words are found necessary, you’d both once agreed, as he’d always been a man of sterling gestures over forced sentimentality. In each glance, each touch, each curve of his lips upward, his vehemence never went unnoticed; it’d simply been his brand of love— demure and chaste, but abundant. There’d been no questioning his intention.

“I would sooner give up my position if it meant I could stay at your side at all times, if it meant you wouldn’t cry so much. If it meant you wouldn’t suffer alone.” Neuvillette sighs, a would-be defeated sound if not for remembering who he was standing with. “I… feel useless on days like these when I’m not with you.”

“Justice cannot relent so long as villainy works around the clock. It is our sworn duty to see such justice prevail, after all.” Neuvillette swipes a thumb over your lip, and subconsciously, you lean into his palm almost delightedly. “And you have done so beautifully, and without malice. Every word written in those reports from your juniors, while, written juvenilely, speak of your fairness. Your impartiality. Your ability to see both the truth and the good in all.” He turns his hand, pressing his lips into your palm. “It is admirable. It is my pride for you. It is why, as much as I wish you could stay at my side, as you said, I hope you can see the value and honour you bring in helping to protect Fontaine. I can’t imagine many else doing so well as you do.”

You raise your free hand back up to his chest, and push. A fraction of a single second is spent wide-eyed and confused until Neuvillette’s legs hit one of the many couches within the four walls of his office, and he is forced off-balanced into its plush. Your other hand gone unrelinquished, you fall with him, knees parted to either side of his and dipped deep into the cushion; Neuvillette’s breath hitches unnoticeably, yet at your sudden embolden proximity, his pale cheeks burn with vermillion.

“I’m supposed to be comforting you, you know,” your murmur.

A kiss to his temple, to the swell atop his cheek, to the button of his nose, and to the cleft of his lip— you lower yourself into his lap, parted lips dropping to slot between his and hands rising to thread into his strands of falling starlight, pulling him ever closer into you. It’s not enough, simply consuming him. You only wish to drown his sorrows, by whatever means necessary and however possible. If this means only having mere moments to appear before him, to deliver him sweets and treats of various kinds — not including yourself, of course — and holding him as tenderly as you do now for what seconds you must have left before having to leave again—

Tongue posed at his lower lip, your gaze is brought to the side and through the glass of the window. The rain. It stopped.

“And I can promise… you’re doing a fine job of it, my love.”

© nc-vb 2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[fortheloveofarchons]

Neuvillette bakes some macarons for the others...

Inspired by @onaxart_ on Instagram, Tiktok and Twitter!

Go check her out and give her a follow, her art is amazing!!

C.W. - A Neuvi/Wrio ship - Characters such as Aether, Paimon and Sigewinne are included - Fluff and domestic fluff - Baking - Cookies - Mentioned Navia, Clorinde and Furina

.

.

In the cosy embrace of the kitchen, lies a white-haired man humming a tune while he decorates his cookies. From his many years spent in Fontaine as a human, one of the things he noticed was the evolution of desserts. Although the Chief Justice does not indulge in desserts, his keen sense of perception allows him to understand the joy of sweet food that indulges in human society. 

Rainbow Macarons, Coffee Bavarois, Pate de Fruit, Conch Madeleine, Fruity Trio, Blubber Profiterole, and Fontaine’s famous La Lettre a Focalors are truly artisan crafts in Fontainians’ kitchens. 

As a token of appreciation for the upcoming holiday where people give their friends, families, and lovers their own gift of love, Neuvillette wishes to adapt himself into this special day by making some rainbow macarons. He has heard that making desserts can be a special occasion for humans. It can be a sign that someone’s birthday was afoot, or perhaps a festival. As such, desserts held special places in humans’ hearts, for their dedicated baking was an act of love, a way to show that they were special and worth celebrating. 

Although Neuvillette does not understand how an individual could bring themselves to consume deep-fried foods like Fish and Chips, or oily food like Garlic Baguette, or even grilled food without a sauce to balance out the flavours. 

He’ll never forget those Charcoal-Baked Ajikenakh Cakes, the most dehumidifying food he has ever seen. Truly the worst culprit in the Chief Justice’s eyes! 

While he has heard that Miss Navia’s favourite hobby is making macarons and sharing them with the ones she cares deeply about, he could not possibly ask her for the recipe because he feels distant from her, as if he’s observing the starry night sky from the bottom of the deep lake. Even with Miss Navia’s apology for her emotional outburst and accusations of his cold-blooded heart, his heart still feels an uncomfortable tinge of guilt, for what has happened to her father. 

After all, human emotions are not like water. They do not settle quickly once agitated, nor do they naturally incline towards equilibrium. 

Perhaps, by making these human treats himself, could he understand more about the human experience of trying something new. He has been indulging himself in ceramics, perhaps baking would be something he would be interested in the future. 

With careful consideration, he decided that making cookies would be best instead of macarons. After putting the cookies on a tray, Neuvillette’s dark blue eyes sparkle as he watches the cookies slowly bake inside of the oven. While he waits for them to finish baking, he thinks about who he wishes to send the desserts to. 

One for Wriothesley, and of course, we can’t forget Sigewinne . His eyebrows knit as he remembers. The traveller and Paimon are no exception, and I mustn't leave out Miss Navia and Miss Clorinde. Unfortunately, I only made a small batch, so I don’t have enough to distribute to the Melusines and the others that have aided in preventing the prophecy… A shame. 

Ding! 

Oh, it’s done. 

~~~~~~

Aether didn’t know what the occasion was when Neuvillette invited him to the Fortress of Meropide. 

Did something happen? 

Why would Monsieur Neuvillette ask me to visit him in this place? 

Unless… Does this concern the Duke? 

Although his heart is certain that this letter would most likely involve Wriothesley, this was not what the traveller had expected when the white haired man gave him a small bag of heart-shaped cookies in Wriothesley’s office. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, this is…” Aether blinks once, twice, and then looks down at his hands, staring at the colourful cookies made by the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Next to him, Paimon is practically drooling from her gifted bag as well, her eyes sparkling with joy from seeing such sweet delicacies in her tiny hands. 

“Well well,” Wriothesley holds the bag of heart-shaped cookies close to his face with one hand, his other hand resting on his waist, eyeing Neuvillette with a smirk. “I never thought that there would come the time where the Chief Justice of Fontaine would give us something sweet.”

“I…” Neuvillette coughs, then folds his arms defensively, making his stance. “I made them myself, and there is nothing wrong in indulging in human festivities.” 

That only made Wriothesley raise an eyebrow to him. 

Meanwhile, Sigewinne has already unwrapped her bag, her eyes widening at the sight of the pink and white cookies that nestled inside like precious jewels. Each one was a work of art, its smooth surface adorned with pink and white chocolate cream and delicate dustings of powdered sugar. 

“Can we eat it now?” Paimon flies down to look at Sigewinne’s bag, her excitement increases from smelling the freshly baked desserts. 

“Of course you can.” Neuvillette says, reaching a hand out for them to try. “Please, help yourself. I hope the flavour is to your liking.” 

Without hesitation, everyone slowly unwraps their own bag, and plucks out one of the cookies of the bag. While Aether, Paimon and Sigewinne happily take a bite, Wriothesley hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at his cookie...

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Congealing Azure Light [碧珀凝光] Date Translation (END 5: Heart-Throb)

“If you don’t teach me, then don’t even think about going back. Lemme guess, your little treat must have already been put into the oven, right?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 5 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! Here's the long awaited last part!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

Where should we start this creative journey of ours…?

⊹ Go to the Kitchen⊹

MC: Since we’re going to be giving it to someone we like, how about we… go to the kitchen and make some tasty food?

Ah Qiang: Yes! I love desserts!

Hearing the words "tasty food", the children instantly perk up, swarming around me. I snuck a glance at Osborn. He was sighing at the taste of freedom.

Ah Qiang guided our little group to the kitchen.

The children all chattered happily the entire way there. However, my ears picked up on a small argument amidst the chattering.

Ah Zhen: Ah Qiang, do you really know how to make desserts?

Xiaodie: I bet he doesn't! All he knows is how to waste food!

Ah Qiang: Who says? I might even be better than you at making them!

Ah Zhen: Why don't we challenge each other then? Boys against girls!

Ah Zhen's suggestion was immediately supported by the other children as voices of affirmation resounded through the crowd. They then formed two distinct groups.

Suddenly, someone tugged me to the side, and I was brought to join the girls. Ah Zhen raised her chin as she stood next to me, shooting the boys a proud look of determination. The boys instantly started panicking.

Ah Qiang: W-We still have big brother Osborn on our side!

Confusion was written all over Osborn’s face as he was pulled into the boys’ group. And I faced a similar predicament, just that it was girls on my side, as we both walked to opposite ends of the kitchen.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Facing the flour, whisking machine, and butter laid out on the counter, I thought long and hard. But, I could only remember how to make cupcakes, no matter how hard I tried. Hence, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

Melt the butter, then add the sugar and flour. The whisking machine whirred as it whisked the mix. Soon, a golden-yellow batter was produced.

I poured the batter into small paper cupcake cups and was just about to put them all into the oven when Ah Zhen walked up to me.

Ah Zhen: And who are you going to give these cakes to, big sister?

MC: To everyone, of course. Because you’re all precious friends of mine.

Ah Zhen: Huh? But Big Brother might get sad if you don’t make him a special gift.

I’d originally intended for him to eat the cupcakes with the rest, but now that she puts it like that… I froze, feeling slightly awkward about it.

MC: He probably wouldn’t… “Sad” doesn’t really exist in his dictionary, haha.

However, she held up her hands and wiggled her fingers.

Ah Zhen: Trust me, big sister! I’m a powerful witch who can read the minds of others!

She then winks before leaving, causing my thoughts to drift to Osborn, who was working in the other kitchen.

MC: He’s neither good with children nor at cooking. He must have it hard…

Yeah, maybe I should make a little something for him. He is a “big kid” after all.

Since I only had a limited time to work with, I decided to go with Madeleines.

However, I had only made them once in my life. I quickly searched up the recipe on my phone and quickly melted the butter and put in the baking powder…

My actions unwittingly sped up when I thought about the look that’d cross his face upon receiving the Madeleine.

Once it was ready, I quickly placed the batter-filled molds into the oven as well.

A wave of relief washed over me as soon as the oven started up.

MC: There! It’s so hot in the kitchen. Maybe I should go out for some air.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The long corridor was empty, save for the children’s laughter that came through the door.

I was happily imagining how the finished cake was going to taste when a door on the side opened, and a hand darted out, pulling me in.

MC: !!!

Osborn: Don't scream. It's me.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Shocked, I shoot him a baleful glare, only to find him looking a little panicked.

Osborn: Quick, teach me how to make a Tiramisu.

MC: Pfft… I knew it!

I was mid-snicker when Osborn approached me threateningly.

Osborn: Quickly! That demon’s waiting for me. A Tiramisu is hard to make, okay!?

MC: I genuinely recommend that you make something simpler instead.

Osborn: You think I didn’t tell him that? Of course, I did! But no, the kid insisted on a tiramisu because it had some sort of special meaning behind it.

MC: Well…

I suddenly remembered the allusions behind a Tiramisu.

MC: Ohhhh! Is he giving it to someone he likes? Wow, never saw that one coming.

Osborn: The kid called “Ah Qiang” wants to make one. He doesn’t know how, so he’s been pestering me about it.

Osborn: I searched up several tutorials on my phone, but there were some things I couldn’t understand, so explain them to me, please?

He held up his phone before me, but I turned away.

MC: But we're opposing teams now. Wouldn’t I be betraying the girls if I were to teach you how to?

Osborn: Oh? So you're not gonna teach me？

MC: No-pe.

I grinned triumphantly. Oh, dear Osborn, you finally got your just desserts!

He probably hadn’t expected me to reject him so brutally, for he rubbed his forehead, seemingly at his wit’s end.

Then, he freezes. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he put both hands against the wall, caging me within the small space.

Osborn: If you don’t teach me, then don’t even think about going back. Lemme guess, your little treat must have already been put into the oven, right?

Osborn: Who knows what will become of them if a certain someone isn’t there to retrieve them in time?

MC: ...Osborn?

Osborn: Hm?

MC: Are you dumb? All ovens come with a timer.

Osborn suddenly stiffens as the realization hits. His eyes flit around awkwardly.

But something soon clicked in his head, and the smile returned to his face once more.

Osborn: Well, don’t you still need to adjust the temperature?

You freeze at that. Didn’t the recipe say something about turning down the heat somewhere through mid-bake?

Now it was my turn to be shell-shocked.

Looking at the muscular arms caging me in on both sides, I realized that I had absolutely no chance at escape. Hence, I shot him a flattering smile.

MC: Fine, fine. You win, boss man. Leave my cake unscathed!

Osborn: And why’s that?

MC: Because… the happiness of many kids are at stake! Do you really have the heart to rip their smiles away?

Osborn: Absolutely.

I stared him down for a long while, refusing to back down, but I eventually backed down in defeat.

I took his phone and quickly warned him in hushed tones.

BANG! Suddenly, the door slams open.

I panicked for a moment, wanting to hide myself out of guilt. However, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide in this empty room.

Ah Zhen was standing just outside the door when she spotted us both. She suddenly pointed at us with a shaky finger and a shout.

Ah Zhen: You two! What are you two whispering about!?

MC: N-Nothing! Hear me out-

Ah Zhen: La la la, I can’t hear you!

She covered her ears, shouting as she ran out of the door. We could hear her loud and clear despite the distance she’d put between us.

Ah Zhen: Big sister got seduced by big brother! She has betrayed us!

My face flushed red, but Osborn only quietly smirked beside me. I swiftly smacked him on the chest in anger.

MC: This is on you!

Osborn: So you were seduced by me? My, I couldn’t tell.

MC: As if!

Osborn: Who knew that kids had such sharp eyes?

Pushing him away, I swiftly made my way out.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The girls all turned to face me with looks of betrayal the moment I got back to our kitchen. It took me a long time before I finally got them to believe me, albeit reluctantly.

A delectable aroma wafted from the oven. I pulled open the glass door and looked inside, only to have my mind blown. 

The cupcakes turned out perfectly white and plump, giving off an enticingly sweet aroma. On the other hand, all the Madeleines that I'd baked had turned into unidentifiable charred lumps.

MC: I really shouldn't have baked them together… I don't think these have any chance of being saved.

I was in the middle staring and lamenting at the product of my wrong choices when a curious head popped up beside me. It was Ah Zhen, who'd followed the delicious smell all the way here.

Ah Zhen: These cupcakes smell so good! What's this though? Chocolate cake?

She reached out and was just about to touch it when I quickly pulled her away.

MC: Uh, those are burnt cakes. They taste terrible, so don't touch them, okay?

Ah Zhen: Oh…

Ah Zhen nodded and left obediently. With the time limit close at hand, I quickly placed the cupcakes into a basket, ignoring the Madeleines that had been burnt into charcoal.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Soon, everyone gathered at the Orphanage’s small lawn with their own baskets of food in tow. 

It was now the peak of the morning when the sun shone the most comfortably. The gentle breeze carried the refreshing scent of the grass and trees alike. We laid picnic mats on the green and lush lawn

The girls were the first to show their creations— An array of colorful and cute cakes, bread, cookies, and sweets.

I took out my cupcakes to add to their brilliant array of sweet creations. Everyone quickly rushed forward and swiped all of the goodies clean once they heard that they all had a share made for them. 

The girls felt confident enough that surely, they’d won this round. They then urged the boys to show their creations too.

Ah Zhen: What did you make, Ah Qiang?

Xiaodie: Which one’s big brother’s? I wanna see it!

Unfazed and unaffected by everyone’s watchful gaze, Ah Qiang and Osborn both produced a beautiful pink-colored box.

Ah Qiang opened his. Inside, was an actual tiramisu. Although it wasn’t very pretty, we could all tell that he’d put in lots of effort. 

They succeeded in making it! I turned to look at Osborn in surprise and just so happened to meet his eyes. He shot me a sly wink.

Xiaodie: Whoa! Cake! It looks really good… Can I eat some!?

Ah Qiang: No, you can’t! This one’s for Ah Zhen.

Ah Qiang bashfully lowered his head in apology, his voice growing smaller along with it.

Ah Zhen smoothly caught the verbal ball while the others gave an envious gasp.

Ah Zhen: Thank you. The witch shall grant your wish.

As Ah Zhen tucked the box safely under her own cloak, the other kids turned their attention to yet another one of the many boxes.

Xiaoqiu: And who are you going to give your cake to, big brother?

Osborn immediately shifted his seating posture into a rather awkward one as he placed a box before me.

Osborn: Try it. I can't vouch for the taste though.

MC: It's for me? Thanks.

I opened the box to see a piece of tiramisu within…

However, Ah Qiang’s tiramisu was decorated with one blueberry, while Osborn's was garnished with a layer of yellow-coloured lemon-flavored fudge.

Xiaodie: Huh? Why's it… the same type of cake?

Xiaoqiu: And what do you know? Ah Qiang likes Ah Zhen, and big brother likes big sister! Of course, their cake's the same!

Osborn’s eyes fall upon me. There was nowhere to hide; my panic was bared in front of him in all its entirety.

Osborn: This thing’s way too complicated to make. After I finished helping Ah Qiang make his, I didn’t have time to try making anything else, so I just went with the same thing.

MC: Oh…

I felt too embarrassed to face him for a while, fixating my eyes on the tiny piece of tiramisu.

Despite it being cut all crooked, and its top layer not being completely coated in cocoa powder, the thought of Osborn putting in the effort to decorate it despite being as clumsy as he is makes my heartbeat race.

Reluctant to speak, I placed it on the ground and snapped several pictures, but it still felt like something was lacking.

MC: Osborn, can you hold it and let me take a picture?

Osborn: More pictures? Snap too many and I might just eat it.

I quickly snatched the cake back and took a small hesitant bite.

Osborn: How’s it?

MC: Hmm… Yummy.

Osborn: What’s with that sigh of relief? Are you really that untrusting of my skills?

MC: Ahaha, of course not~ It actually looks pretty good for your first time!

Osborn: I knew it wouldn't be so bad.

Osborn: Everything turns out fine as long as I’m serious about it.

He smiled and extended his hand towards me with a proud look on his face.

Osborn: Alright, where’s mine then? I’ve been waiting really long now.

MC: Yours?

Osborn: Yeah. Where's my return gift?

I then recalled the plate of charred Madeleines and averted my eyes in guilt.

MC: Everyone has their own cupcake. Didn’t you already eat yours?

Osborn: I don't get a special one?

Osborn moved closer, his eyes bright with anticipation. Faced with such a look, I found it hard to voice the “no” that was lying on the tip of my tongue…

Ah Zhen: There’s something! Big sis (y/n) prepared something for you, big brother!

Ah Zhen’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she magically procures a box from under her cloak under everyone’s curious gazes.

Ah Zhen: Here it is! I knew that you’d be unhappy if you didn’t receive any gift, big brother!

Ah Zhen: So this clever little witch has brought it out for you!

Osborn: I see now. Thank you, clever little witchling.

A bad feeling niggles at me, starting to make itself known. However, before I could react, Osborn had already snatched up the box!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The box was nicely wrapped up in a gold-colored cloth with a floral pattern. He weighed the box with a thoughtful look before facing me with a smile.

Osborn: Now what goodie did you make, and why don't you wanna let me have some?

MC: You won't want to eat it. Trust me!

I quickly reached out to grab at it. There was only one thought in my mind- I can’t let Osborn open it!

He simply got up in the face of my advances and walked a couple of steps away. He undid the cloth covering it and opened the lid of the box.

I quickly chased after him and tried to grab the box again, but he only stretched his arm out before turning around and lifting the box higher in the air. The smile he had on his face oozed with smugness.

Osborn: Now that you’re trying this hard to reclaim this, you’re only making me even more curious.

I circled around him, frantically jumping in an attempt to nab it from him.

But no matter how hard I tried, all he did was dance out of my reach. I was out of breath after a while of hopping about.

Taking advantage of how I was out of breath, Osborn rounded back to the picnic mat and seated himself. Then, he placed the box on his lap, and…

MC: Wait, no! Don’t open it!

Before I could finish, he’s already pried open the box.

My black Madeleines, charred beyond all recognition despite the effort I took to bake it, was out in the open for everyone to see.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Osborn's hand stilled. He looked slightly shocked at the sight.

Osborn: This is… food?

MC: It was meant to be… edible.

MC: I wanted to make them for you, but it turned out to be a failure…

I was ready to slam the lid back down on the box when Osborn swiped a piece of it right under my nose.

Osborn: Still gonna try it.

MC: Wait, no- Hey!

Seeing that he was about to put the black, charred, failure of a thing into his mouth, I quickly reached out to stop him.

But all he did was shimmy a little to the back to completely slip out of my reach.

He narrowed his eyes in mischief as he leaned backward.

Osborn: You've put so much effort into it, it's only fitting that I try some.

Saying so, he put it into his mouth.

It was for a fleeting moment, but I didn't miss the slight furrow of his brow.

MC: How does it taste…?

Osborn: Hm, definitely something I'll never forget in my entire lifetime...

MC: ……

Osborn: But having room for improvement isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Osborn: I’m very patient when it comes to deserts tailored especially for me.

Osborn: I’m looking forward to your next one.

The cheery laughter of the children seems to recede, leaving only his low voice in the background along with the sweet aroma wafting out of the box of treats.

He gently pats my head and gives me a smile overflowing with warmth. I nodded in slight embarrassment.

Osborn: It's a deal then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[sentofight]

the entire dorm was fragrant with the sweet smells of baked goods ! one could even catch a whiff outside the building even ! a joint venture from the second year girls( yukari, fuuka, & the ever excited for any group activity; minako herself ! ) who had completely bogarted the kitchen completely for the day. the trio deciding it would be far more effective, && cheaper, to simply make all the confections they needed for valentine's day--- though it seemed as if they really just had the boys of the dorm to give any to, the rest no doubt going to themselves. a proper way to rev up galentine's day for sure !

of course, that didn't mean that there wasn't any care into those sweets that were going to their male companions. juggling fixing the various mistakes caused by fuuka, minako had taken a specific venture to make a separate set of cookies for her senpai specifically. remembering a passing comment once before that he wasn't the biggest fan of sweets, aiming to make something quasi on theme with chocolate but not so sugary that it would be a pain & a half for him. so after flipping through quite a bit of various recipes in books at the library & quite a few online on the dorm computer--- she had settled on madeleines ! the lot were more like small cakes anyways but easier to eat.

&& with that in mind she'd made sure to make the madeleines herself, little cookie sized cakes that were shaped not in their traditional shell appearance but that of a heart in honor of the holiday. of course being heart shaped was no doubt expected from the bright fool, after all she loved her senpai ! she loved junpei, she loved yukari & fuuka & everyone at the dorm ! all her friends held her heart so why shouldn't she treat them with cute little heart shaped treats ! valentine's day is about love in all it's forms ! delighted to see the batch come fresh out of the oven almost perfect, the lot was half dipped within some semisweet chocolate. half were left to dry, while half were then sprinkled with some nuts for garnish, stuck neatly( as she very, VERY meticulously made sure the pieces laid juuuuust right ) within the chocolate. the other half were then separated once more & that half got a different garnish of white chocolate lines piped thinly for decor.

once done, the madelines were gathered & wrapped up within a cute handkerchief & tied with a ribbon to be put aside so it didn't get mixed up with the other goods & sweets. everything was to be made ahead of time so that early on february fourteenth the girls rushed downstairs & put out all the various chocolates & baked goods upon the grand table within the dinning area in the lounge for everyone to partake in all day ! specific boxes from each of the girls had been placed with everyone's names upon them, each having small bits of fudge or chocolates with silly messages or drawings.

the little bundle of madelines sat upon the boxes from fuuka & yukari, but minako's gift came with a little note rather than just a name of which said:

for senpai, who is very sweet but doesn't like things that are super sweet. - arisato p.s; you have to get all of us white day gifts now haha !

The kitchen was off-limits--a war zone, none of the boys dared to step outside of the rooms, heck some decided to spend their time outside of the dorm fearing for their lives. For Akihiko, he would hate to be locked in his room for hours, so he opt to go and train. It would be a good use of his time instead of holing himself up in his room.

Akihiko went on his usual jog, met some school mates on his way, and even club mates who share similar training regimen. Hagakure visit is a must, too after a long jog.

Junpei had texted him saying that the girls had finished their culinary crimes and he can get back home. It was not like left because of them so he decided to stick around and pay a visit to Officer Kurosawa.

The golden boy was not dense as to what this day hold in meaning. He just rather feign ignorance which can help him avoid unnecessary situations. The girls in the dorm were probably make gifts--chocolate ones for the people they like? Well, he get that it is not necessarily for people you 'love' since he got some chocolates from his foster mother early this morning. How kind of her ... which is another reason he cannot fail on his mission. He is Sanada's soul now.

Going back to the dorm after bidding goodbye to officer Kurosawa, he hoped at least that someone took care of what Fuuka had ... concocted. Whoever the poor fellow will get her mystery food x, may their soul rest in pieces--peace.

The smell is enough to knock someone out with diabetes. Geez, what were they doing? "I'm back," he said swinging the door open. Seems like there were no one in the lounge. "Hm... " he walked toward the dining table where boxes of different red gradient color were placed. "Did they make all of these? Cool." eyes quickly lays on the ones marked for him. "Huh? Me?" he raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"I see. They made for all of us, huh. Well, if we all get knocked out, who is going to save us? Sigh..." what a predicament. Declining a girl's gift is like ... opening gates of hell upon yourself. He'd fight shadows day and night than being placed in a situation like this.

Thinking ...

"Doubt anything in here can kill Junpei, so we might as well have a fighting chance." pure logic, ladies and gentlemen.

"Besides, Mitsuru will do something ... I think," unless she rather see them willow in pain .... she wouldn't, would she? Sigh ...

"Argh, dang it. If it does not kill me, at least it might make me stronger," perhaps. He picked the first thing on top which was the bundle. Something was obvious that it was from leader--just the careful details yells it is Arisato. Always looking out for everyone.

"Let's see... madeleines?" His first impression was a cake or chocolate something. This was not a bad choice in all honesty. Creative and different. To be honest, he could use a little bit more sugar today after his workout but hey, these go well for breaks between studying and training in his room. Definitely, a thoughtful gift.

He picked his share and climbed up to his room to try them out. Arisato's madeleines were chef kiss. All that home economics classes seem to have paid off, huh. Hopefully, the same goes for Fuuka's stuff--and Yukari's.

A smile curled his lips upon seeing the note. Yep, that's their leader. "I do like sweet things, though. Some sweet things." he do indulge in some sweet fries from time to times. They keep the kid in his heart alive. Oh, and pancakes. Pancakes are good.

"White day gifts, huh... Geez, now that's a hard thing to do. I have to think about it from now." he placed the note on his desk to be a reminder for him to not forget about his new obligatory gifts haha. God help him to pick something back for the girls.

valentine's day | i still accept them if u send them ~ | @foolshoujo

[bethestaryouareradio]

A Day to Remember!

MIRACLE MOMENT®

“Volunteering is at the core of being a human.” - Heather French Henry

A MESSAGE from Founder/Executive Director, CYNTHIA BRIAN

The start of autumn was a tremendous extravaganza for volunteers, donors, and supporters who enjoyed participating in the Parade and Pear Festival honoring the 50th Anniversary of the Town of Moraga, the 25th Anniversary of Be the Star You Are®, and the honor won by BTSYA as the 2024 Nonprofit of the Year!

Our BTSYA teens went above and beyond to make September 28th a day that will be remembered. Our Parade Chairperson and 25th Anniversary Party Coordinator, Ella Kalpakjian, decorated a truck with stars, filled it with balloons, and made signs honoring the celebration while volunteers walked behind the drummers chanting our motto: “Read, lead, succeed!” as they handed our Madeleine cookies donated by our sponsor, MB Jessee painting. 

With over 700 parade participants, when planning our BTSYA performance, we were concerned that everyone would be “in” the parade and there would be no parade “watchers”. We need not have worried as the streets were packed with thousands of smiling, cheering, and clapping onlookers who enjoyed the festive atmosphere and small-town spirit. Our teen videographer and photographer, Sean Kwok, was running up and down the streets capturing the excitement and the pageantry.

When we finally arrived at the Pear Festival, all the teens leaped into action under the direction of our two teen chairpersons, Sharnaya Roy and Keerthi Eranivan, as we were joyfully bombarded with giggling children who wanted to plant seeds to take home to grow, and have a story read to them at our Reading Circle. 

Everyone was given a goodie bag filled with fun stickers and treats. Parents bought books to give as gifts and were offered free bags of potpourri and fresh bay leaves.

When it was time for Be the Star You Are!® to be introduced and honored on-stage as the 2024 Nonprofit of the Year, Ella took to the microphone to express gratitude to everyone who has been a part of our experience of serving the world for the past 25 years. After all the cheers and honors, the Chamber Board and other dignitaries gathered at the BTSYA booth for a raucous ribbon cutting.

Our culinary coordinator, Julia Howe broke out the goodies and we partied and enjoyed freshly baked treats. As we began dismantling our tent and booth, we gave our thanks to our sponsors, MB Jessee Painting, the Lamorinda Weekly newspaper, and StarStyle ® Productions, LLC, who support us yearly at the Pear Festival.  

Tired, but elated, the teens left for Homecoming engagements, dance recitals, SAT practice exams, sports practice, and weekend homework. This was a stellar event and we give our gratitude to the Town of Moraga and all the organizers for including Be the Star You Are!® in this once-in-a-lifetime celebration. If you missed it, we’ll be posting videos on our YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/Bethestaryouareas well as posting photos on our website at https://www.BetheStarYouAre.org

Thank you to everyone who organized, contributed, visited, or participated. We are GRATEFUL.

And that’s a WRAP!

With gratitude,

Cynthia Brian

Founder/Executive Director

Be the Star You Are!®

PO box 376

Moraga, California 94556

Make a DONATION through PAYPAL GIVING FUND and PAYPAL with 100% going to BTSYA with NO FEES:  https://www.paypal.com/fundraiser/charity/1504 2024 Top NonProfit and 2024 NonProfit of the Year! 

DONATE: https://www.paypal.com/fundraiser/charity/1504

TEEN TALK

The Parade and Pear Festival Festivities were organized and orchestrated by Be the Star You Are!® teen volunteers. Here is their wrap-up of this incredible day.

Ella Kalpakjian: Parade Chairperson and 25th Anniversary Party Coordinator

“I had a blast when I joined Be the Star You Are!® in Moraga’s 50th Anniversary celebrations. We attended the parade, where I rode in the back of a decorated truck while my fellow volunteers walked in front. Despite the balloons flying in my face, I couldn’t help but feel joy as I saw my community members watching us drive by. Among the children, we were a big hit because of the madeleines we handed out (donated by our sponsor MBJessee). The parade felt like a momentous event, a culmination of everything I love in Moraga. Saint Mary’s College, Kiwanis, local schools, and even Lamorinda Idol (a local singing competition) all had a place in the parade.

 After the excitement of the parade, we headed over to the festival. Once again, many groups from across the town came together. And this year, there was special pear merchandise and even a cookbook of local recipes sold! 

BTSYA was honored for our 25th anniversary as an organization, and for winning Moraga’s Nonprofit of the Year award. I had the opportunity to speak on stage, and we all participated in a ribbon cutting outside of our booth. It was amazing to feel so involved in my community, and seeing my town come together in celebration made me happier than ever to call myself a Moraga resident.”

See Ella speak on stage: 

Sean Kwok: Videographer and Photographer

“I'm so grateful for the opportunity to have attended and volunteered at the Parade and Pear and Wine Festival with Be the Star You Are! It was so great seeing all of the other volunteers and meeting the locals of Moraga- the town itself has such a friendly and welcoming community, especially with everyone coming out to support us at the parade. Filming and photographing both events was super fun and I had a great time, and I'm so glad to have been there. Looking forward to future events for everything else with Be the Star You Are!® and the community of Moraga!”

Julia Howe: Culinary Coordinator and Radio Host

“As I walked through the streets of Moraga during the parade, I was genuinely struck by the joy in the atmosphere. The sight of so many smiling children, the energy of the dedicated volunteers, the music, and the laughter all contributed to an unforgettable experience. I could truly feel the impact of our efforts at Be the Star You Are!®. It made me proud to represent our organization at the parade, and I feel fortunate to be part of such an inspiring group of individuals every day. One of my favorite moments was helping the kids with the egg-carton planting activity, a metaphor for our “Plant the Seeds of Literacy!” program Their giggles as they created their little projects, choosing seeds and playing with dirt, reminded me of who we are serving. These kids are the next generation, and it’s amazing to know we’re making a difference in their lives, one seed, one book at a time. Thank you so much!”

Keerthi Eranivan-Co-Chair for the Pear Festival Booth and Radio Host

“Volunteering for BTSYA at the Pear Festival and 50th Anniversary Parade was a one-of-a-kind experience. I got to see the real impact of our nonprofit in the Moraga and Bay Area communities. It's truly surreal to see so many people from all walks of life out there supporting what we do as a global charity and helping us spread awareness for literacy. Thanks!”

Sharanya Roy-Co-Chair for the Pear Festival Booth and Radio Host

“Volunteering at the Pear and Wine Festival booth for BTSYA was an incredible experience filled with joy and loads of laughter. Engaging with young kids and community members brought a vibrant energy to the event, and it was heartwarming to see their excitement. Walking in the parade was equally fun and exciting; I loved tossing out madeleines and chanting our motto, "Read, Lead, and Succeed." The enthusiasm from the crowd made it a truly unforgettable day, highlighting the importance of community and the joy of sharing our mission with others.”

BROADCASTING ON THE RADIO

These teens discussed their involvement in Be the Star You Are!® and the impact of participating in the Parade, Festival, Stage Presentation, Ribbon Cutting, and Party on Express Yourself!® Teen Radio. Tune in here to hear their enthusiasm in their own words. Listen at Voice America Network, Empowerment Channel: https://www.voiceamerica.com/episode/151631/the-parade-and-pear-festival-party

You can also tune in wherever you enjoy your podcasts or music: 

Apple iTunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/id481894121

Tunein: https://tunein.com/podcasts/Young-Adult/Express-Yourself-p401071/

Stitcher: https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/voice-america/express-yourself

iHeartRadio: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/256-express-yourself-31136273/

Check our lifestyle broadcast, StarStyle®-Be the Star You Are!® LIVE on Wednesdays from 4-5 pm PT . Listen at Voice America Network: https://www.voiceamerica.com/show/2206/be-the-star-you-are and available on your favorite platforms:

Apple iTunes: 

Tunein: https://tunein.com/podcasts/Motivational/StarStyle---Be-the-Star-You-Are-p46014/

Stitcher: https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/voice-america/be-the-star-you-are

IHeartRadio: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/256-starstyle-be-the-star-you-31083110/

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/embed/show/4zDdwzlsHH44caWiMQdD25

SubStack: https://api.substack.com/feed/podcast/228120.rss

Pocketcasts: https://pca.st/mjw2ng5n

AUTUMN KINDNESS

by Karen Kitchel

A silver lining to saying goodbye to summer is often when pumpkins and the first golden leaves appear.  Instead of lemonade, we might order a spiced latte. While days at the beach are a thing of the past, long drives to “see the colors”  create lasting memories.

How to make it an even better season?  Sprinkle it with kindness.  Pay for the latte of the person behind you in line. See if there’s someone at a nearby living assisted center who would be thrilled to ride along to see the leaves. Candy bars are a rare treat for those who are homeless or live in a shelter.  Scatter some kindness in a way you’ve never done before.

Welcome to Autumn!

Karen Kitchel is the Kindness Coordinator volunteer with BTSYA. She purchased the book, No Barnyard Bullies, as a gift for every kindergarten student where she is a volunteer teacher. www.scatteringkindness.com . She loves pumpkins!

MAKE SURE TO VOTE

It’s a privilege to be an American and be able to vote. Please vote for the best people, policies, and programs instead of voting party. Everyone is important. Every vote counts. We want a country that is caring, considerate, and inclusive with a leader of integrity, character, and conscience.  Your vote matters. United we stand, divided we fall.

Photo and Video credits© 2024 Sean Kwok and Cynthia Brian

Have a SAFE and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Share StarStyle® Empowerment

[jeanbeaux]

ANYONE CAN BE A CHEF

jean kirstein x f!reader

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: tooth rooting fluff, vomit mention, taco bell slander.

a/n: this is apart of @mindninjax’s domestic day dream collab! thank you so much for letting me participate, i am sorry this is so horrendously late. check out the rest of the amazing fics here! bonus points if you catch the cage the elephant reference. yes the title is a psuedo ratatouille reference. thank you to @mitsuyasmistress for beta-ing love <3.

The harsh morning rays of sunlight diffuse through the gossamer curtains of the master bedroom, but the warmth hitting his face still manages to pull Jean out of his slumber. He rubs his bleary eyes with a yawn to see that you’re still passed out next to him, chuckling as he sees your face scrunch in displeasure when you too feel the effects of the sun. He presses a soft kiss to your temple before rising out of the sage green sheets, heading over to the bathroom to start his day. You’re still snoring softly by the time he’s done, so he pads across the hardwood floors on a mission to make breakfast for you both.

The kitchen has been Jean’s haven for as long as he can remember. He’d often toddle around the island with toy airplanes in hand as he followed the aroma of the spices in the stew his mother had simmering, earning a shriek from her when she would catch him reaching up to play around with the dials on the stove. In an attempt to quell the danger of her son’s newfound interest, she placed a wooden stool at the edge of the countertop, so that his little four-year-old body could rise above the top of the marble to see her roll out puff pastry. 

She began to rue that decision every time he would lean over and make grabby hands for the chocolate sticks she had reserved for the pain au chocolat, but as she watched how he would point at the oven and babble in delight as the flaky pastry began to rise, she figured being a little short of the filling was worth it. And as soon as he was tall enough to see the top of the island without assistance, she bought him a chef's hat, making him her official sous chef on Sunday mornings as they baked the treats from her home country.

The weekend bonding activity with his mother turned into something more when they started to bring their confectionaries to the PTA bake sale. No one could believe that sweetie little Jean on Trost Street was the creator of such delectable madeleines, ones that simply melted on the tongue the minute you took a bite. 

He swears he’s never felt his heart swell as it did at that moment, watching as more people kept milling towards their stall, his eyes shining as they would gasp in delight after taking a bite of the buttery shell-shaped cookies, praising how good of a job he did with them. Even snot-nosed Eren was bugging his mom to buy more. It was here that Jean realized that his cooking was something that could be enjoyed beyond the walls of his own home, and sensing the way his mother was looking down at him with pride at how far he’s come, cooking went from a weekend hobby to his passion on that fateful fall day.

Thus, the hours he spent in the kitchen grew, making everything from croissants to coq au vin, and by the time he was 18, he had mastered the art of French cooking. His talents had earned him a seat at the Marley Institute of Culinary Arts, where he sharpened his skills and expanded palette beyond his heritage.

But after he graduated, he found himself dedicating the small cream building he had purchased to be a house of French cuisine, all as an ode to the woman who had made his dream possible. 

Like everything Jean set his mind to, Chez Paradis soon became a success. Every day came with a new challenge — more refined palettes to feed, a drive for new innovative dishes. The added pressure was adding a few knots in his back, but those would finally come loose the day you would sit at one of his white-clothed tables.

You were one of Sasha’s work friends, brought in as a guest on a night of a soft re-opening. The one upside of the woman being capable of eating anything was that she would eat everything, making her the ideal candidate for a new menu tester. You had given him a soft scarlet smile when he introduced himself during the dinner course of the night, and Jean couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked in that crushed velvet dress under the soft lights. 

His palms were sweating as he placed the ceramic plates in front of you, blushing like a schoolgirl as you thanked him for the meal. Jean watched through the kitchen windows as you cut open the goat cheese zucchini quiche, letting go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he watched you process that first bite with a pleasant surprise.  He has faced career-ending critics with more calm, and yet the sense of relief he got seeing your eyes widen as the tang of the cheese dances across your tongue is incomparable.

Sasha drags you to the back once the affair is done, bounding over to the blonde curled sous chef she knew was a little sweet on her to see if they had any seconds, giving you the time to give your regards to the head chef. 

“Was this the best French food you’ve ever had?” Jean joked. 

“It was! It holds a pretty special place in my heart considering it was the first French food I’ve ever had.” 

Jean threw a hand over his heart in mock horror, earning a giggle from you before questioning you further. Turns out the only exposure you had to French food was through the screen — confessing you had only seen the cuisine through Ratatouille which threw another dagger in Jean’s heart, and then he’s insisting you come again, this time a private dinner where he can show you some of his favorite meals.

And then it turns into another and another till Jean finally asks you out — and then the venue of these dinners changes to your apartments. Jean eventually stops cooking by himself, now bringing over brown paper bags full of groceries and a recipe for you two to try. 

It becomes a routine date for you two, laughing in the kitchen as old 2000’s music cranks from the speaker you have set up, Jean wrapping you in a hug despite your protests about his flour-covered hands, forcing you to dance with him as the pie you’ve put in the oven rises.

There’s a magic to those moments that never changes as your relationship grows, even after Jean came by with nothing in that paper bag except a velvet box. 

Because cooking with you is easy, Jean knows you’ll still hold love for him in your eyes even if he serves you Kraft Mac and Cheese. You make him want to venture out and try new things, new spice combinations or preparation techniques — and even if they flop, Jean finds comfort in the cute little scrunch of your nose, motivated to keep pushing further instead of beating himself upon failure.

But lately, you’ve been hard to impress, and Jean finds himself hitting a wall.

Those nose scrunches are accompanied with retching, sometimes even the smell is enough to turn you away from what’s in the kitchen. And what’s worse — you've been sneaking outside for fast food of all things — mouth dropping in shock as he catches you red-handed with Taco Bell after you turned down the enchiladas he had made for you. 

Now, he stands before the stovetop once more in an attempt to impress your changing palate, cracking the egg over the mixing bowl with one hand. 

He hears you walk into the kitchen over the sizzle of the butter, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle against his broad back. The “good morning” you give him is murmured against his skin, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before you walk over to hop on the counter and watch him cook.

Jean is pretty when he concentrates, strong hazel brow knit as he pours the egg, picking up a fork to swirl the mixture rapidly in the skillet. His biceps flex as he tilts the pan towards him, elegantly rolling the egg on top of itself into a cigar shape before setting it down on the plate next to him. 

Jean kisses your forehead, finally returning your greeting before handing the plate off to you. His hands come up to his face as he watches you push the dish around with a fork, steam lightly rising from the egg when you finally cut in.

It’s a simple French omelet, just salt, butter, and eggs. The process makes the meal more than the ingredients do, and Jean figures it’s best to go simple with how you haven’t been able to handle anything as of late. 

The anticipation peaks as he watches you take a bite, and he’s praying that you enjoy one of his childhood favorites as much as he does. Jean’s waiting for the wrinkle of your nose, but it never comes.

Instead, for the first time in forever, he’s met with a smile, you lifting your fork up with glee before taking another bite.

“That good, huh?” Jean grins, leaning in closer to you. 

“Mmmhmm.” You swallow before lacing your free hand with his, placing his palm over your stomach.

“The baby is a big fan of this one too.”

thank you for reading! <3 please do not recommend this on tiktok or repost this work.

© all rights reserved JEANBEAUX 2021. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

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[rosesgonerogue]

I didn’t so much fall in love - It kicked me in the face Chapter Six

Several days later, Marinette was making decent progress on the suits for the Wayne family - she had the bulk of the work finished, thanks to a night of insomnia, now she just had to do the final fittings and line them. It was a bit backwards, but the linings were intricate enough that she didn’t dare do it until she made sure the silhouette was perfect. She hadn’t spent hours hand-painting silk for it to sit wrong inside the suit-coats. 

Bundling up her precious work, Marinette took Leo’s hand, leaving the hotel where a car was waiting for them. 

“Did you bring the tie for Monsieur Alfred, Maman?” Leo asked, a sparkle in his eyes. 

“Of course I did,” Marinette said, showing it to her son. “Do you think he’ll like it?” 

Leo scrutinized the article of clothing before solemnly nodding. “It’s what he needs. He’s… sad.” 

A chill ran down Marinette’s spine - Leo always seemed to know so much more than should be possible. But… “I’m glad that you like to make everyone happy, ma cher.” 

“I want Maman to be happy most of all.” 

Marinette blinked. “But I am happy, Leo. I have you, what more could I need?” 

“You try to hide it, but you get sad sometimes. You want the same kind of happy that grandmere and grandpere have, the happy you get from a person you like a lot. I want Maman to be happy.” 

“Leo,” Marinette murmured, her breath catching slightly. She hadn’t made any attempts at dating since… since Leo came along. In the beginning she’d been an emotional wreck, but she’d put the circumstances of his conception behind her years ago. With love, support, and therapy, she was… okay. 

“We’re supposed to be in Gotham,” Leo affirmed. “It will help you be happy.”

“I’ll…” Marinette faltered, unsure how she was granted such a perfect child. “I trust you, Leo. I’ll look for opportunities. But no one can possibly make me more happy than you do.” 

“Not more happy,” he assured her, patting her hand. “Different happy.” 

That left Marinette blinking away tears when the driver announced their arrival at Wayne Manor. She took the time to thank him before clambering out of the car, Leo in tow. 

None other than Alfred himself greeted them at the door, perfectly composed as always. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, you’re certainly welcome here, but I am currently the only other person home at the moment. The men won’t be available for their fittings for a while.” 

“Thank you, Alfred. And it’s Marinette, please,” she said with a smile. “But this works out perfectly. I wanted to chat with you for a moment or two.” 

“Please come in, then. May I offer you some tea?” 

The three settled down comfortably, Leo gnawing on a cookie as Marinette tried to figure out how to broach the topic of… well, anything. 

“Maman, give it to him,” Leo prompted. 

“You’re absolutely right, Leo,” she said, retrieving a small gift bag. “For you, Alfred.” 

“Miss Marinette, I couldn’t! You are a guest of the Wayne family, you shouldn’t feel obligated to make anything for me!” 

“It was no obligation, I enjoyed it. Besides, it was partially at the request of a mutual friend.” 

He hesitantly opened the bag, gingerly pulling out the tie, his hand shaking every so slightly. It was a beautiful piece of silk, carefully embroidered with intricate peacock feathers, the fabric a deep blue, exactly the same shade as - 

“Duusu,” he breathed. “Is he well?” 

“Would you like to ask him yourself?” Marinette nodded to Leo, who carefully placed a miraculous box on the coffee table. 

“He told me of the other kwami,” Alfred said hesitantly, “and I felt something about you when we first met, but I thought it was just old age effecting me. If you don’t mind me asking, how-”

“Marinette is Ladybug!” Duusu chirped, startling both adults. “You two were taking too long, so Leo let me out.” 

“Duusu, my old friend. It’s been decades.” 

Marinette concentrated on stirring her tea intently, graciously giving the older man the emotional space that he needed and ignoring the tears that were building in his eyes. 

“Alfie! I never thought I would get to see you again!” Duusu chirped, excitedly flying around the man’s head. 

“We’ll give you some time alone,” Marinette said softly, leading Leo out of the room. When the door closed behind them, she patted his head. “You did an excellent thing. I think you just made Monsieur Pennyworth very happy.” 

“We both did, Maman.” 

“We did good, squirt.” 

It wasn’t long before Alfred emerged, cupping the peacock broach in his hands with the utmost care. 

“There is still some time before the family arrives for their fittings. I was preparing to make some desserts to serve with tea. This is not a demand or a request, but if you would like to help, I would not be opposed.” 

“What do you think, Leo? We haven’t gotten to bake since we left Paris. Tikki would probably enjoy some fresh cookies.” 

Before the child could respond, the kwami in question flew into sight. “I think that’s a great idea!” 

********

For once in his life, Tim got home sooner than expected. A meeting had been cancelled, and his personal assistant seemed more worried about his lack of sleep than normal. Admittedly, he’d spent far too much time researching Ladybug. He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around everything he’d seen, not to mention the fact that the entire city of Paris had been able to keep their heroes a secret, especially as tourism had only increased since her debut. 

There was one thing in particular that Tim couldn't stop thinking about. In all of the clips of Ladybug, (and he had watched all of them), there was one move she repeated not infrequently, a certain pivoting high kick that he had recently been introduced to. It was curious that Marinette was able to execute it so well, but it wouldn’t be the first time a civilian had imitated a vigilante’s moves. It was just… curious. 

Also curious was the smells that greeted him upon opening the manor door. Alfred’s cooking always smelled good, but Tim was fairly certain that this was what heaven was supposed to smell like. He couldn’t help but follow the scent to the kitchen.

“Maman, the frosting needs more color,” a small voice said. 

Leo was standing on a stool, stirring his bowl of frosting carefully enough that his apron wasn’t necessary in the least. Tim felt his heart skip a beat when Marinette turned around to help her son with a smile. Her eyes were soft, and unlike her son, her apron was covered in flour and flecks of batter. He swore his knees went weak when those eyes landed on him and she smiled like he was the sunshine in her life. 

It was the way he remembered his mother smiling at his father.

“Leo, Monsieur Tim is  home. Say bonjour!” she said, pointing. “Why don’t you explain what we’re making?” 

“Bonjour, Monsieur Tim. Maman and I got here early, so we wanted to make treats for your family like my grandmere and grandpere make treats for me when I get home from school,” Leo said, his eyes the only indication of his excitement. 

“So what are you teaching Alfred to make?” 

“We’re making madeleines, a personal favorite of Leo’s. But no one does madeleine like a Dupain-Cheng.” 

Tim glanced around smirking. “This looks like a lot more than just madeleines.” 

“Well, Alfred wanted some tips on making macarons, and… I was raised by bakers, making small batches of anything has never been my strong suit. Luckily, I hear sweets don’t last long in the Wayne household.” 

Neither Marinette nor Tim saw the look exchanged between the butler and the boy, but Alfred was soon clearing his throat. “Miss Marinette, I think Leo and I have things handled here if you would like to begin Master Tim’s fitting.” 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“We’re fine, Maman,” Leo interrupted. “Someone needs to tell Monsieur Alfred when to take out the macarons.” 

Marinette looked surprised. “Well, it seems my son has taken to Alfred. As long as he doesn’t mind, I guess it’s just you and me.” 

“It’s a privilege, Miss Marinette,” Alfred promised. “Go on, you’ve got a job to do.” 

Tim felt inexplicably nervous, and excited, and - did Alfred just wink at him?

Taglist: 

@ii-fox-demon @queen-in-a-flower-crown @novaloptr @saphiraazure2708 @iamabrownfox @smolplantmum @redhoodedtoad @loysydark @slytheringinger300 @finallyaniguana @brokenwordsarehard2 @abrx2002 @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @moonlightstar64  @marinettepotterandplagg @black-streak @purplesundaze @maribat-is-lifeblood @the-fusionist @river9noble @chocolatecatstheron @darkthunder1589 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @dast218 @k-poplunardreams @meanids @changelinggarden @ladybug-182 @pawsitivelymiraculous @zotinha456 @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @somebodyspersephone @spider-person95 @zestyzealot @toodaloo-kangaroo

Author’s Note: 

This might be the last of the daily updates, but I don’t forsee the rest of the story taking much longer to write. We’re pretty much halfway in, so prepare yourselves. I’m also contemplating writing a sequel when Leo is a bit older, that could be a lot of fun. Let me know if you want to be tagged, or if I missed you! 

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Plot Twist” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Embroiled in the aftermath of two very messy break-ups, Crowley and Aziraphale are preparing to film their first love scene together. But how do you pretend to be in love when your love life is falling apart?

It probably doesn't hurt to be in love with your co-star. (2318 words)

Notes: So I made the chauffeur young Shadwell, but patterned after young Michael McKean, who I was desperately in love with back in the day XD Human au, ineffable wives, mention of past Aziraphale/Gabriel, mostly just fluff

Read on AO3.

“Ooo, I get a limo this time. Fancy, fancy,” Crowley mumbles, not nearly as impressed as she’s pretending to be. She’d much rather drive herself in her own Bentley and in her own sweet arse time. But she needs to keep up appearances. 

There are always two eyes and a camera lens on her at any given moment.

Even though it’s the literal buttcrack of dawn, she’s not alone. There are about thirty asshats, armed with cameras, camped out on her doorstep, climbing over each other to snap a candid of her for the gossip sites. A photo of her emerging from her rented townhouse fresh-faced and ready for another day on set will fetch an easy hundred pounds.

But if she looks like she rolled out of bed, drank a bottle of whiskey for breakfast, then fell down a flight of stairs, landing face-first onto a mountain of cocaine? Those pictures would fetch considerably more.

That’s what she gets for going through a horrendous break-up while having the nerve to be rich and famous.

She thought that when the production moved filming away from London and out to California, the buzz surrounding her personal affairs would die down. On the contrary. It seemed to get worse, in part because the states don’t have the same paparazzi laws the UK does.

She can’t sit down to take a proper shit without seeing a flash pop off.

Despite how she feels about her life at the moment, she went for class over crass. She shies away from hard drugs, and she can't justify looking less than her best, especially in public. 

She refuses to let anyone see her sweat.

“Antonia! Antonia! Over here!” the pariahs beckon, some of them whistling for her attention like she’s a dog. “Antonia! Hey, Crowley!”

Crowley.

That’s the one that gets to her - burrows into the roots of her teeth and makes her head pulsate with rage. It keeps her feet moving when she might have stopped to exchange a polite hello, given out an autograph. And the sick thing is these vultures probably realize that. 

That’s why they keep doing it. 

Who talks to people like that? When did it become acceptable to bellow out someone’s last name as a means of getting their attention? Is it too much to ask for them to shove a ‘Mrs.’ in front of it? Have these glorified stalkers forgotten that, if it weren’t for her and stars like her, the only jobs they could get would be snapping photos of families at Legoland for minimum wage?

Ugh. 

Too much thinking too early in the morning.

She could write an entire essay on how much she loathes pap culture, but today, she can’t be bothered caring.

She’s filming one of the most anticipated scenes of her whole career on one of the worst days of her life. 

That’s the hurdle she needs to focus on.

She slaps on a smile and waves, sliding her glasses down her nose only far enough so they can’t see how red her eyes have gotten from crying.

“Oh, ‘ello, loves! I didn’t see you all here! So nice of you to greet me at 5:30 on this fine winter morning! Oh, careful there. You spilled your coffee. And I think you just kicked that poor lad in the face. You wanna give him a hand up there? He’s bleedin’ all over the pavement.”

Crowley greets her guests this way every morning, killing them with kindness, as subtle an eff you as she can come up with when her brain cells have yet to kick in for the day.

Coffee. She needs coffee. About a gallon-and-a-half of it.

And a shot of bourbon might be nice.

Crowley glides through the crowd, an angelfish among sharks, and comes out unscathed.

A man with brown hair, pale skin, and striking blue eyes, wearing a fitted, black uniform tailored to within an inch of its life, opens the car door for her as she approaches.

"Good morning, Mrs. Crowley."

“Good morning, Mr. Shadwell. It's nice to see you.” Crowley slides into the car, thankful when the chauffeur shuts the door. She sinks into the leather seat and tosses her sunglasses aside. “God!" she moans, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want to do this! I want to stay home, eat ice cream, and drink tremendous amounts of alcohol! I definitely don’t want to be snogging anyone today!”

Aziraphale, who had been waiting patiently with a small box of assorted cookies and wearing a sympathetic smile, frowns. “Wow. Thank you, my dear.”

Crowley's head snaps up, her face splotchy, and red enough to rival her hair in seconds. “Aziraphale! I am so sorry! I didn’t know you were …! That’s not what I meant!" She takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. "It's not you, angel. I swear it isn’t. I just don’t feel particularly romantic today.”

“It’s all right. I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

Crowley squares Aziraphale with a stern look. “Wow. Thank you.”

Aziraphale ducks her eyes, her cheeks turning pink as she offers Crowley a cookie from the box. She wonders if Aziraphale made them herself. She often does bake to pass the time. So much so that she's become quite good at it.

Life hasn’t been treating her too kindly, either.

The cookies are delicate little things, intricately frosted in red, green, and white, decorated as bells and angels and snowflakes in honor of Christmas. 

Because it’s Christmas. 

Crowley is having the worst day of her life a week before Christmas.

Sigh.

There is usually champagne, no matter what vehicle the studio sends to pick them up. She wonders where it’s gone, searching about for it. Crowley and Aziraphale rarely avail themselves to it, preferring to wait till after the shooting day is done to have a nightcap.

But today, it feels like a necessity.

Leave it to the studio to not provide them a bottle of bubbly on the one day Crowley longs to drown in it.

“I didn’t know Shadwell was picking you up first,” Crowley says, starting small talk to ease the tension. Crowley and Aziraphale don’t usually have trouble making small talk.

Today is an exception.

“Well ...” Aziraphale clears embarrassment from her throat “... I was just … you know … a few blocks down the way.”

Crowley sits up further, leans forward with interest. “So you did it. You left him. You left Gabriel.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replies quietly. “I couldn’t stay. Not after …” She stops and sniffles, turning her head to hide eyes that must be as red as Crowley’s. Crowley doesn’t know.

She only ever notices how incredible they are.

Crowley rests a comforting hand on Aziraphale’s knee. “I know.” 

“Yeah,” Aziraphale says with a slightly bitter laugh. “So does the whole world. In fact, the photogs knew I was leaving before I knew. You should have seen it. I could barely get past them.”

Crowley pulls a box of tissues out of the side panel and offers her co-star one. “They’re bottom feeders. The lot of them. Try to ignore them.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know,” Crowley repeats, feeling exceptionally useless. She’s in the exact same boat, but her heart hurts more for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale doesn’t deserve what she's going through. She doesn’t deserve such a public break-up.

She doesn’t deserve having her name drug all over social media by an emotionally manipulative bastard who thinks he's God's gift.

Crowley gazes out the window at the sky above. The forecast said it would be clear and sunny today, but it’s cloudy and grey. It matches Crowley's mood. Everything is cloudy and grey.

Well, maybe not everything.

The cookie she's eating isn’t. It’s sweet and crisp and melts in her mouth. It puts a smile on her face.

That helps.

Aziraphale helps, too.

Even gloomy, melancholy Aziraphale helps.

Just being in Aziraphale's presence helps.

“Living in the public eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, though it sounds as much like a statement to herself as a question for Crowley.

“Not on days like today. But that’s the trade-off for being a star, I suppose.” 

“Would you ever give it up?” Aziraphale asks, taking a nibble of her Madeleine.

“I can’t say I would. You?”

“Nnnn ... no."

"There isn't anything else you wanted to do?" Crowley asks, latching on to her hesitation. "Not even when you were younger?"

"Well ..." Aziraphale bobs her head back and forth. "To be honest, I have always wanted to own my own bookshop. Or perhaps work in a library. But that's only if acting didn't work out. Acting has given me so many opportunities I could never have dreamed of. And all the great people I've met? I mean, this is what? The fifth film we’ve starred in together?”

“It is." 

Aziraphale chuckles. "Some of them have been real winners."

"I know! The roles you get offered when you're just starting out are criminal! Let’s see, we’ve been rogue enemy agents from different factions …”

“High school frenemies …”

“Alien co-conspirators …”

“Jealous rivals …”

“And now … lovers.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says bashfully. “And today …”

Crowley smiles. “We get together for the first time.”

Hearing Crowley say it makes Aziraphale’s heart race, her pulse thrumming so fast it disappears.

The day Aziraphale found out she’d gotten the role of Crowley’s love interest and not the ‘jealous ex’ (the role her agent originally pitched for her since they play adversaries so well) was a dream come true. The studio felt the two of them could take their insane sexual tension (the studio's words, not Aziraphale's, although she doesn't disagree) and use it to fuel the plot of their latest 'friends-to-lovers' rom-com.

Aziraphale has always wanted to be a leading lady. Deep down, she prayed that her first time, she'd play opposite Crowley. Now that it has finally happened, the role of her dreams comes with the greatest perk in the universe - an intimate moment with Antonia.

In front of about three dozen crew members, but still. 

It's Aziraphale's chance to indulge her crush, which she plans to savor since it may not come around again. 

Not in the way Aziraphale wants.

As friendly as Crowley is to her, as flirty as she can be, Aziraphale doesn't know for sure whether Crowley shares her feelings.

“If you don't mind my asking, when did she tell you?” Aziraphale asks.

“She didn’t." Crowley snorts humorlessly. "I woke up, and she was gone. I thought she had left for work. She had a table reading at six that morning, so I wasn’t immediately suspicious. Not until I started noticing important things were missing - clothes, toiletries, her contact lenses, her laptop …” 

"Did she tell you why she was leaving?"

Crowley chews her lower lip at the question she'd known was coming ... the answer she's debating whether or not to give. "Eventually." She glances up at Aziraphale, flashes a sly grin, and decides to go for broke. “She left because she thought I was falling in love with my co-star.”

"Really?" And just like that, Aziraphale dies, her heart shrinking into nothing and blowing away on the wind. "W-which one?" she asks, solely for conversation's sake.

This time, when Crowley snorts, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from spraying crumbs all over the interior of the limo, it's genuine. "You, you gumball!"

"Oh. Oh!" Aziraphale’s expression of shock is so endearing, Crowley can’t look at it too long. There's a glow about her. It's like staring into the sun. “That's ... that’s funny. Gabriel broke up with me for the same reason. Because of ... you. At least, that's the excuse he gave on Twitter ... and Instagram ... and Facebook.” Aziraphale's glow dims as she talks about her ex. Their relationship, and separation, weren’t as civil as Crowley’s. In reality, trouble had been brewing behind the scenes for a while. 

She’s glad they finally went their separate ways, but it stings just the same, finding out that someone you once loved, who you thought loved you back, just wanted someone to push around. To control.

"That is funny. Not funny ha-ha. Just ... funny. Who would have thunk?" Crowley goes back to her cookie, taking small bites while keeping an eye on Aziraphale.

Aziraphale glances out the window as the limo slows, approaching the gates to the studio lot. Crowley doesn't follow Aziraphale's gaze.

She doesn't need to. 

She knows what Aziraphale sees by the way her face falls.

Aziraphale had hoped they could slip in quietly, but there's already a mob three feet deep waiting for them. The photographers and fans won't be able to see a thing through the car's windows. The tint on them is darker than dark. Still, the whole lot will be on high alert with them here. 

Inevitably, a handful will slip in. 

They may even find their way on set.

Aziraphale doesn't have the energy to deal with that.

Not today.

“How are we going to get through it?" Aziraphale asks. "Filming this scene? The timing is ... uncanny, to say the least.”

“Think of it this way …” Crowley slides across to Aziraphale’s side, sits as close as they're both comfortable with. Crooking a finger beneath her chin, Crowley draws Aziraphale's attention away from the gathering crowd and over to her eyes instead “… we get to spend the entire afternoon making each other feel better. That's how we're going to get through this. Agreed?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lower, flicker to Crowley's lips unintentionally. When they travel back up, she notices Crowley's eyes do the same. She swallows hard. At this distance from Crowley, from her mouth, Aziraphale only has the wherewithal to say one word. She makes it count. "Agreed."

[alchemyeats]

Blue Spirulina Madeleines 💙 Recipe BELOW and also on our website. This delicious and simple vegan madeleine recipe makes a fantastic treat with added blue spirulina to create a vibrant blue colour. 💙💙💙 Vegan Madeleine Recipe Ingredients (makes around 20 depending on mould size): 1 cup flour 1 tsp baking powder 1/2 cup plant milk 1/3 cup maple syrup 70g coconut oil  1 tsp vanilla essence 100g dairy-free white chocolate 2 tsp Unicorn Superfoods Blue Spirulina Powder Method 1. Preheat the oven to 180C and then grease the madeleine mould with dairy-free butter or coconut oil 2. In a large bowl, mix the flour and baking powder. 3. In a smaller bowl, combine the milk, maple syrup, oil, and vanilla essence 4. Slowly add wet ingredients to the dry ingredients. Whisk until combined, but do not overwhisk. 5. Use a teaspoon to fill each of the madeleine moulds (you can find a link to the ones we used on our website alchemyeats.com). Do not overfill the moulds as the mixture will naturally rise a little. 6. Leave in the oven for 15 minutes. You can use a toothpick to check it is cooked all the way through. 7. Remove from the oven and allow to cool then remove the madeleines from the mould. Leave until they are completely cooled. 8. In a small bowl, melt the vegan white chocolate. Once the chocolate is melted and smooth, add the blue spirulina powder. 9. Pour 1/2 tsp of blue spirulina chocolate into the madeleine moulds and ensure it covers all the mould shell, place the madeleine into the chocolate and leave them to set. 10. You can then remove the chocolate coated madeleines once they are set. (at London, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/COiwBFFJiGt/?igshid=1y2ihg81dx87o

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Sakuraco March 21

I’m so sorry anyone who was waiting for this DX after getting it I realized that I should take a day or two enjoying everything, rather then opening it all at once. I got it Tuesday so my goal was to get it up Wednesday, then Thursday.

So then wouldn’t you know, when I got to begin working on this the first time, my laptop decides it don’t want to cooperate. Anyway, it seems to be fine again so we’re going to get into this. I hope you’re excited!

For anyone who might be unfamiliar with the blog, or hasn’t seen my post covering this new branding. Sakuraco is by the popular Japanese-themed series of subscription boxes from Tokyo Treat. What makes this different from their normal snack box, is that this one is more focused on the local unique items that you usually wouldn’t see outside of Japan, elegant snacks for tea, pastries, pretty utensils, and so on.

As a reminder, I was given an offer that grants me a bonus of 4 items. These seem to range to unique items and some repeats of the box content.

“Over the past year, our team has worked hard preparing Sakuraco and we are eager to finally share our hard work with you! While this year has been full of challenges for many, we hope to bring you a moment of indulgence and cultural discovery that you’ll look forward to every month.“

Before I get into the contents I wanted to take a moment to go over the book. It’s really thick, which made me start theorizing that this could be why the other brand booklets became thinner around this time last year. You might have seen me comment on that in some reviews.

Inside the book you get a greeting page, and a page featuring the team who worked on the box. We get pages covering the items in the box, the month’s theme and various special things about Japan; such as a page on Niigata prefecture, and pages related to Hanami/Cherry Blossom Viewing. Lastly, there is the photo contest page, and some social media stuff. The book also covers the makers of the items, if they are Vegetarian friendly, and have any allergens.

Sweet Sakura Tea

Our first two items are tea drinks, one was a bonus however, so I won’t be going into detail as I can’t exactly tell what it was supposed to be. This one however, was one of the main vocal points of the box, and very exciting! This tea only requires this pickled sakura/cherry blossom flower and very hot water. As you combine the two, the flower opens and you’re free to drink it. You can also re-use the flower to bake with if you wanted.

This tea comes from Japan Green Tea Center in Tokyo. This is vegetarian and includes no allergens.

♥ 

I hope I don’t offend anyone, but I didn’t like this. I mean, I don’t like tea very much to begin with but this doesn’t even taste like tea- it tasted like the salty water I throw together and gargle with when I have mouth work done, or throat soreness. It was really pretty to watch/try, but it’s taste isn’t for me. I guess I just have an immature palette.

Sakura Konpeito

In this box, we’ll also be seeing some items exclusively made for/by it. This was our first of those items, little konpeito (sugar candies resembling little stars, those things Mario collects in the Mario Galaxy series). These are by Sasaki Confections, veg friendly and no allergens.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

You’ve tried one basic konpeito, you have tried them all. I like how these ones are smaller though, and their colors are so pretty~

Sakura Monaka & Strawberry Castella

I decided to only name the items the box  is supposed to have, rather then add in the names of the bonus items. The reason this plate looks so full is because the Monaka came in 2 shapes, and the small pink thing is a bonus item. It’s a little piece of mochi, I think specifically ohagi. It’s small and the very cute, it was also fun to squish both in and out of the package :D I’m not sure about the flavor, it seems to be plain/sugary, but there’s a hint of something vaguely like coconut.

Next up is the baby Dorayaki nearby. Not much to say, it was very basic with red bean filling, just several times smaller than normal.

 - - - -

Next up, the Monaka, which as I said above came in 2 shapes and features a cute print resembling a cup or bowl with a brush used to whisk matcha. This one’s by Ito Confectionery in Nagano, veg friendly, no allergens. Filled with red bean, it has notes of sakura and a thin, melt in your mouth pink wafer outside.

♥ ♥ ♥ 

I like the taste of wafer, which is pretty non-existent. These are especially soft and melty, they stick to your lips a little. I can’t really confirm the scent of the sakura (my nose isn’t very reliable <3< it only works some times), but the red bean filling is very tasty, so I’d like to say it’s in there. I usually don’t entirely enjoy red bean, but it didn’t bother me here.

- - - -

The castella is a thin cake-like sandwich usually filled with cream, in this case strawberry! This is by Nisshindo Confectionery in Nagano, veg friendly, but it has soybeans, milk, egg, and flour in it. The cake itself is made from brown sugar, and it has a very light, airy texture.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It seems kind of plain/basic when you look at it, and you don’t really get much cream. But it was still tasty in a gentle, delicate kind of way. Some people might say it’s underwhelming, but it offers a nice contrast to the other contents and you can still taste the cream. 

Sakura Madeleine, White Peach Castella, & Uji Matcha Castella

(sorry for the lighting, it was the next morning when I took this picture)

The madeleine comes from Ebisu Confectionery in Osaka. Veg friendly, but it has the same allergens as those listed above. You can see an image of it opened in the next pic, but I’ll talk about it here. It has sakura extract worked into the dough prior to baking. It resembles a muffin, or non-decorated cupcake.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I actually can’t remember this one in exact detail, but I know I liked it. It offered that hint of Sakura in a good way, and had a fluffy texture.

- - - -

These other two are another type of Castella Cake, which basically resemble a slice of plain cake. One is made from matcha/green tea, while the other is white peach. Both come from Ash Food Confectionery, located in Okayama. Both veg friendly, but they have the same allergens already listed, plus peach. 

The matcha cake features a red beans baked into the dough, while the white peach uses peach puree.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Both were very delicious x3 the cake was soft and moist, they tasted very fresh. I’m not big on green tea but I didn’t hate that one at all, I LOVED the peach one a lot though. It was sweet and the peach flavor was very noticeable. I’d recommend it out of the two, but both were winners in my book :3

Strawberry Dorayaki & Sakura Strawberry Crepe Roll

The madeleine ended up here because I completely forgot I already took it’s picture. I reviewed it above, so just try to ignore it’s presence here. Also, the plate you see being used was included with the box :3 isn’t it lovely~?

I’ll start with the crepe as there isn’t much to say, it’s in the packaging beneath the other two. It was all broken apart so I left it in the pack until I wanted to eat it. It comes from Nakajima Taishodo in Osaka, veg friendly, typical allergens. It has sakura worked into the batter to provide scent, and thin strawberry filling prior to being rolled up.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Broken or not it still tasted good. The flavoring was light but noticeable, so I enjoyed it.

- - - -

Our dorayaki comes from Hiyoshi Confectionery in Shimane, featuring the semi-sweet, pancake-esque treat (another type of castella) with strawberry jam and red bean filling. Veg friendly, features flour and egg allergens.

The booklet suggests eating this with the sakura tea as it should enhance the flavors of the filling.

♥ ♥

It’s on the dry side, not enough to make someone choke. The pancake outside has a faint maple scent and it’s not very sweet, and I can’t really say I was a big fan of the filling. It only tastes like red bean to me, I couldn’t notice any sign of strawberry.

Peach Sandwich, Red Bean Taiyaki, & Sakura Mochi Monaka

Our first snack comes from Bankokuya in Kagoshima, veg friendly, typical allergens; but oddly, no peach allergen. There is traces of alcohol in it though, which I didn’t even notice. It’s a simple, cake-like sandwich filled with peach cream.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The cake outside has a grainy, sugary texture which I wasn’t a huge fan of. But the cake is soft and the peach filling was sweet and fluffy~

- - - - -

Next up is a Monaka with mochi filling, from Tenkei Confectionery in Nagano. Veg friendly, includes egg. The monaka wafer is filled with a red bean mochi flavored with sakura petals baked inside,

♥ ♥ 

For as much as I like unique textures, I found this to be... too unique for me. The combination of crispy wafer didn’t go with the soft and squishy mochi inside. The mochi wasn’t my favorite either, but it wasn’t bad.

 - - - - -

Our last item here is another Sakuraco exclusive, a red bean taiyaki created by Haraya in Shimame. Veg friendly, typical allergens. Taiyaki is a fluffy, soft snack similar to the dorayaki (minus the maple flavoring), which is usually filled with red bean, cream, or chocolate. There’s even a special pan one can purchase in order to make them, and they are very popular.

♥ ♥ ♥ 

It’s soft and maybe a little dry, but I was mainly impressed with the detail on it, given how small it is. It’s really cute x3 Again, I’m not the biggest fan of red bean, and this was filled with it. So if you like it, you’d probably love this, but if you never tried it before or are like me, it’s sort of a meh thing. 

Sakura Senbei, Sakura Shrimp Senbei, & Sakurasen Cracker

Believe it or not, but we do get some savory items in here too! I love rice, especially when it’s in senbei form like this. These are each made by different companies and locations, so let’s start with the mini-sakura, shall we?

These are by Sakurado Confectionery in Niigata, and surprisingly are not veg friendly- because they include shrimp, flour, soybeans, and gelatin. They include soy sauce flavoring.

♥ ♥ ♥

Besides being really cute, they were pretty good. I wanted to love these and thought I would... but there is a shrimpiness that I could identify even without knowing it was in them. I used to like shrimp but for some reason I can’t stand it now. It bothered me a little, but it wasn’t a deal breaker.

- - - - -

Our rounded senbei comes from Sugi Confectionery in Aichi. It’s not veg friendly, and is made from flour, soybean, and squid. It has a mellow flavor and is a season limited edition item for Spring only, featuring the taste of Sakura.

The sakura-shaped senbei is from Kanazawa Kenroku Confectionery in Mie. Contains shrimp, not veg friendly.

♥ 

I felt the same way about both of them honestly. I tasted the fishiness so I really couldn’t tolerate them very much. Especially the round one, it’s crunch bordered on being unpleasant for me, but I loved the puffy-crunch of the other one. While they weren’t my favorites of the box, my mom (an avid seafood lover) liked them, in fact I think they perked her up a little that day when I gave them to her. She returned from chemo and was pretty hungry. 

Yoshino Kuzamochi

I saved this item for last because I was the most excited for it! This one comes from Nakajima Taishodo again. Kuzamochi is like a stiff jello, usually with little taste that you enhance using things such as a caramel, maple, or brown sugar sauce and/or kinako powder, which tastes a bit like peanut butter in my opinion. It contains soy beans (you roast them to get kinoko powder), and is veg friendly.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I know it doesn’t look very aesthetically pleasing (I made a little heart on top though~) but it tastes so yummy! The plain kuzamochi didn’t have much flavor, but adding both the sauce and kinako really adds to it. The brown sugar makes it sweet, while the kinako adds a gentle, toasty earthiness. The texture might be a little off-putting to some, given it’s jello-ish consistency, but I loved it.

Opinions

Content - 3 out of 5. One thing was broken but otherwise everything was great. I did have a couple of items I didn’t particularly like the taste of but it was so exciting to try everything! 

Theme: 4.5 out of 5. It was an elegant feeling box, by that I mean, seeing all the flowery inspiration and items. It was kind of nice how the first box they made actually matched up with the name, but that was probably just a coincidence. There was a couple of items that didn’t fit the theme, but that’s a bit trivial.

Total Rank: 8 out of 10 Cuties. For the first box, I thought it was just lovely. As I said, I had some complaint over taste but you can’t please everyone. I was so excited to get this box, everything was fun to try, and I love learning more about Japan so I appreciate how full our booklet is x3 I can tell they put a lot of effort into making this box, so I can’t wait to see what else they have in store for us!

[silentexplorer18]

2019 Draco/Reader Secret Santa Fic Exchange - Sugar and Spice and Everything Not-So-Nice

Note: This is my fic for @eltanin-malfoy‘s 2019 Secret Santa Fic Exchange.  It has been such a pleasure to take part in this exchange, and, hopefully, it will be the first of many more to come!  I don’t know who my person is yet, but, to you, lovely person, wherever you are, I hope that you enjoy it!  I don’t know if this is the direction you were intending the prompt to go, but I thought it was super fun to write.  Merry Christmas!  :)  And a giant thank you to @eltanin-malfoy for allowing me to take part in this exchange!

Prompt:  “Draco baking for the reader.”

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warnings:  Being too sugary sweet (ba dum cha)!  :)

Read it here on AO3.

~

Of all the things that Draco Malfoy had faced in life, the last thing he expected to battle was the kitchen.  From facing his father’s scrutiny to tolerating Aunt Bellatrix’s zealous adoration of the Dark Lord to the fall of the Malfoy name and discovering the need to reassimilate himself - albeit quietly and somewhat awkwardly - into functioning normally after the war, nothing compared to the catastrophic events unfolding in his typically pristine kitchen.  Baking was not Draco’s forte.

He couldn’t fathom how you’d become quite so excellent at the craft he now discovered to be so ridiculously complex.  Always relinquishing the cooking to you, the thought of it being particularly difficult had never crossed his mind.  He’d always known you were a remarkably bright witch, so he hadn’t found it odd in the slightest that you brandished a wooden spoon as skillfully as you did a wand.

However, in the hours he’d recently spent coated in ingredients, Draco had realized he’d underestimated you.  A lot.

Baking was hard.

Yet the bright wizard was not one to be defeated quite so easily.

Countless times he’d witnessed you in the kitchen, whizzing away across the wooden floors as you produced piles of lovingly made goodies.  Those days, he’d always teased you about it, hostility ebbing into his voice as he reminded you that the Weasleys and Potters surely had their fair share of confectionery from the previous week’s escapades.  The next morning, he’d be met with a cheeky remark as you bounded out the door, delicately wrapped parcels cradled to your chest.

He secretly adored your generosity.  Although he would never admit to it, a few extra red tins would appear in the cupboard after you’d announce your recipe of the week.  Even more would appear when you mentioned wanting to mail a package to Mrs. Weasley or Neville.  Although the professor could procure ample treats at Hogwarts, nothing quite compared to your creations.

Yet today, on this chilly winter afternoon, the blond had decided he’d bake something for you.  On occasion, you’d come home exhausted from work and desperately craving a pastry or cupcake but be too exhausted to put up with making a batch.  Rather than bake something for you - cooking had never been a skill Draco had needed nor wanted to practice - he would cuddle you up and delight you with movies and back rubs until you fell into a peaceful slumber in his arms.  Spending time with him was something you cherished, and even though sometimes you would’ve enjoyed a delicious treat from your husband, you never pushed him to bake for you.  Couples certainly didn’t need to share all their interests, after all.

Your persistence in the kitchen, arguing to use muggle cooking methods rather than leave it all up to magic, was something that both fascinated and exasperated Draco.  In an attempt to make you proud, he was opting for the magicless route as well, a choice he now found to be messy and uncoordinated.

With an unamused groan, he scraped the newest batch of deformed cookies from the baking trays, staring in defeat at the items that littered the counters.  Charred cookies and raw batter greeted him, blobs of flour smeared across the floor, and a set of poor formed cupcakes stared at him in utter disgust.  How you were capable of whipping out madeleines and toffee, cookies and fudge, tarts and pretzels, along with the most glorious cakes, he’d never know.

Glancing at the clock, he knew you’d be coming back from the Weasley’s soon enough.  The surprise was meant to be a plate of delectable goodies, not a haphazard kitchen in need of cleaning.  With a wave of his wand, the mess began to disappear, bubbles foaming in the sink and water splashing across the dishware as his shameful first attempts were whisked from sight.

~

When you arrived home a short while later, the all too familiar sound of rustling parchment greeted you.  Draco was perched in his favorite chair by the window, eyes casually skimming over the news.  He seemed to glow, cast in the grey evening light with the upholstery, a color one could only describe as that of gillyweed, arching above his back and curving around his sides.

He glanced up from his reading as you rubbed the chill from your hands, wedding ring glinting ever so gently.  That sight made him smirk, the way you cherished the delicate piece of silver, an emerald in the shape of a tiny dragon egg perched across your flesh.  For a moment, his mind raced back to the day you stood before him at the altar, a mirage of elegance and perfection he could finally touch after the war.  You were everything he’d ever hoped to find, filled with intelligence and wit and a level of affection he was scarcely accustomed to receiving.

“Have fun with Weazelbee?” he asked, lips curling into an expression a tad more mischievous.  He knew you hated it when he teased the trio.  They were civil now, more or less, kind yet cautious, and he knew you enjoyed their company.

Your lashes fluttered with the roll of your eyes.  “Ronald is doing quite well.  As is Hermione.  However, their children are quite boisterous this holiday, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps it was all the madeleines you’ve been taking them.”  His comment was a tad wry, but you let it slide.  Draco, though mocking in your approach to muggle cooking and baking, always assured you that your results were remarkable.  You needn't fear he disliked them.

“I wouldn’t think so.  Hermione’s been hiding those for herself,” you smiled, slipping onto the couch comfortably.  “Anything noteworthy?”  Reaching behind you, your hand grasped for one of your favorite fuzzy blankets.  With a sweet smile, you snuggled up with it as Draco scanned the paper.

“The latest quidditch scores are decent, not as good as previous years.  A magizoologist is coming to London with a demonstration on proper care of common magical creatures that have been found in densely populated cities as of late.”

“Magical creatures?  Here?”

He grimaced up at you.  “Nifflers and such.  But not around here,” he shuffled the papers.  “They’ve been spotted in some business districts causing trouble.  There’s been quite a lot of thefts in those jewelry stores near the Ministry.”

“Oh my,” your brow furrowed.  “Is Pansy’s business okay?”

After the war, Pansy had obtained a small shop in lower London, resolving to spend her years as a vendor for second hand robes and pawned jewelry.  However, as her business grew in popularity, she’d needed to move locations, finding a medium sized shop that would provide ample room for her jewelry counters and increased stock.  Quite often, you’d pop by the building with a parcel of goodies she could offer her patrons.  Truth be told, most got eaten before the both of you had even finished your teas.

“She owled earlier today,” Draco confirmed with a nonchalant wave to the small stack of mail.  “It appears her shop is hectic from the season but doing well.  She did encourage you to bring another box of chocolate eclairs, though.”

“Ah, yes.  She does adore those,” you sighed.  “I hope she can wait a few days,” you met your husband’s quizzical gaze, “I wanted to take Molly a Christmas pudding first.”

He nodded in understanding, eyes traveling back across the morphing photos and blaring holiday advertisements.  “Speaking of,” you smiled, rising, “I’m going to start on that.  She should be expecting me for tea tomorrow.”

Draco smirked at your stretching figure, adoring the way your fingertips danced through the air.  Lashes fluttering and lips curling into the most beautiful of smiles, he couldn’t help the swell in his heart as he watched you recede into the kitchen.

Knowing you would be busy the next day, he reevaluated his plan.

~

While you were munching away at breakfast the next morning, Draco waltzed into the kitchen and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.  “I’ll see you later, darling.  Have a nice time at tea.”

“Where are you going?” you asked, hand muffling your voice as you attempted to hide the food in your mouth.

“I’m just going to run some papers up to the Ministry.  Possibly stop by Zabini’s and say hello.”

With a nod of understanding, you waved him off.  “Have a nice day!  I’m leaving in a bit, too.”

He vanished.   The pop echoed through the air in his wake.

Draco spent all day in a muggle library reading information on baking.  Although he usually wasn’t one to read in their libraries, muggles had cookbooks galore, and it was precisely the reading material Draco needed.

It seemed so simple on paper.

If only reading about it could solve his problems.

~

For three more days he tried his hardest to create a delectable creation to no avail.  He was halfway to giving up entirely, but the thought of how radiant your smile would be when you came home to a plate of treats drew him to persisting.  He just wanted to do something to make you happy, something to remind you that he cherished your love for cooking despite his tendency to jest.

Thinking he’d give it another shot, the blond set the ingredients on the counter, flipping through one of your many recipe books with a dismal face.  Muttering the recipe aloud, his voice masked the gentle sound of the floorboards creaking as you came down the stairs.

You paused a moment, watching him with a curious gaze.  He seemed frustrated, eyes scanning the various ingredients that you definitely hadn’t left on the counter.  Dropping a spatula, he gave an exasperated sigh.  Pale hands rubbed against his tensed brow, down his tired face.  “Why can’t it just work?”

“Draco, honey?” you called, stepping into the light.  “What are you doing?”

He froze.  Like a deer in headlights, he stared at you with the most alarmed of gazes, cheeks turning a violent shade of red under his fingertips.  He’d thought you’d left already to visit Pansy.  Through the distant rumble of the shower water, he was positive he’d heard you slam the door shut.  Clearly his ears had heard wrong.

“Draco?” you prompted again, concern ebbing across your features.

“I just-” his voice caught, “I was, well, trying to bake something.”  His voice seemed to ring loudly in the air, and he nearly cringed at the unsettling volume of it in the otherwise silent space.

You approached him cautiously, glancing toward the recipe book in confusion.  “Trying to bake what?”

“Hallongrotta,” he mumbled.

Your brows arched.  “Why?  If you wanted some so badly, you could’ve just told me.  I would have doubled the batch I made for Neville the other day.”

Sighing, Draco ran a hand through his hair.  “They’re for you.  I was trying to make them for you.”  His voice lowered as his eyes left your face, dropping to the polished floor bashfully.  “I remember how much you like them.”  As if things couldn’t veer farther from the plan, his face continued to redden at the look of surprised delight that had washed over your features.

Your happiness seeped from your skin, dancing across the countertops and warming every corner of the kitchen in glowing joy.  Draco was baking for you!  And trying to make it a surprise, no less!  It was as if Merlin himself had smiled down upon you.  “You’re making cookies for me?”

Your grin was contagious.

“I’ve been trying to for a few days,” he admitted sheepishly.  “I can’t seem to get any of them right.”

“What’s been wrong with them?”

He chuckled, glancing back toward the simple yet disastrous ingredients beside him.  “What hasn’t been?”

Grasping his hand, you shot him a playful glance, smile adorning your cheeks.  “Would you like my help?”

“I’d love it.”

~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it!  I really loved writing this fic, and I definitely take after Draco and his lack of cooking abilities (but I can boil water, so I’m fine!).  Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to everyone, regardless!  I hope everyone is doing well this festive season, and I look forward to continuing writing with all of you in 2020!  Have a great day!  We’ll probably talk again before the year is out, but this will probably be my last fic of the year, so for everybody that just reads my stories and doesn’t chit chat with me here on the blog, I wish you a lovely end of the year (and decade!), and hopefully I’ll see more of you again in the new year! :)

[maryanntorreson]

The 12 Days Of Cookiemas: Holiday Pastries From Around The World

There’s something about the holidays that make cookies an inevitability. As the temperatures dip down, baking cookies is an excuse to turn on the oven and fill the kitchen with both warmth and the smells of vanilla and cinnamon. Cookies are a great way to feed gatherings of people, without the need for cutting or slicing. And as the evenings get darker and we start to stay inside more, they’re a welcome escape. Traditional Christmas cookies are nostalgia wrapped in sugar.

Another great thing about cookies is how varied they can be. It’s tempting to always stick with the same pastries your parents made, but that limits your possibilities. To help you diversify, we looked at some of the most popular cookies in other countries. Presenting the 12 Days of Cookiemas, with recipes for traditional Christmas cookies from around the world.

1. German Pfeffernusse

Pfeffernusse are very popular throughout Germany and the Netherlands during the holiday season. The name literally means “pepper nuts,” which sounds far less appealing than they actually are. They’re similar to gingerbread, but thicker, softer and covered with a firm sugar icing. The snowball appearance gives them an extra wintery look. You can buy them in many stores in the United States, but nothing beats the homemade kind.

2. Argentinian Alfajores

Alfajores are kind of like Oreos, but also they’re nothing like Oreos. These pastries are two soft cookies held together by dulce de leche, and the combination is delicious. The origins of this cookie apparently go back to Spain over 1,000 years ago, when a slightly more rudimentary form of the pastry was made. The recipe traveled to South America during the colonial era, and they were really perfected in Argentina.

3. Polish Kołaczki

Photo by Kurman Communications, Inc. via Flickr. License.

Perhaps the greatest feature of kołaczki is that they’re very versatile. The exterior is constant — a cream cheese dough with a nice flakiness — but the inside can be whatever you’d like. Whether filled with almond spread, strawberry or even Nutella, kołaczki are a delicious cookie. Poland, the Czech Republic and other countries all claim to have invented this pastry, but its exact origin is lost to history. You don’t need to know where they’re from to eat them, though.

4. British Stained Glass Cookies

Don’t worry, there’s no actual glass in stained glass cookies. It’s essentially a sugar cookie with holes cut into it, where you add crushed candy that’s heated to turns into a “pane.” So it’s literally a candy window. These cookies are great to eat, but they’re also used for another purpose: decoration. You can put a hole near the top and put string through them. Some people hang them on their Christmas trees or in their windows. Of course, you can also just eat them, because some people might think it’s weird to have stale cookies hanging around your house.

5. Eastern European Rugelach

Rugelach, traditionally a Jewish pastry, is not explicitly associated with any holiday. Yet it seems that as December rolls around, these cookies start to appear. They often makes an appearance at holiday parties, regardless of the host’s religious affiliation. They’re kind of like mini croissants, with dough wrapped around jam, cinnamon, chocolate and nuts. The filling is variable, but the enjoyment is not.

6. Austrian Vanillekipferl

Vanillekipferl are almond-flavored pastry crescents. Their origin is a bit muddled, but they’re popular in Austria, Hungary, Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Poland. It’s believed that the cookie’s crescent shape is based on the Turkish crescent moon that you can see on Turkey’s flag. They were made like this to celebrate the Hungarian defeat of the Turkish in one of several battles in the Ottoman-Hungarian Wars. This is clearly not the most holiday-friendly story, but hey, they’re cookies. Vanillekipferl are eaten year-round in Austria, but they’re considered a holiday treat in most other countries.

7. German Zimtsterne

Yes, we chose two cookies from Germany, but these are worth it. After all, Germany is famous for traditional Christmases, so it only makes sense they would have the plentiful traditional Christmas cookies. Often called cinnamon stars, these cookies are made from almonds and cinnamon. In the old days of Germany, cinnamon was a rare spice, and so these cookies were considered a specialty item. They became associated with Christmas because it was the time of year when people splurged on the finer things. They’re always shaped like six-pointed stars, so let them light up your dark night.

8. Italian Anginetti

Italy has no shortage of small cookies for the holiday season, but anginetti are a particular favorite. They’re pretty typical drop cookies with a slight lemony taste, but there’s something irresistible about the glaze with the sprinkles. The sprinkles also give them a very festive look that make them a colorful part of any cookie plate. They’re also a lot less heavy than your average cookie, so you can eat more without feeling guilty.

9. Finnish Joulutorttu

This is a treat of many names. Joulutorttu literally translates to “Christmas tart,” but they’re more commonly known in English as prune tarts. Don’t let that name scare you away. Prunes are not always bad, and these cookies prove it. They cookies are also called pinwheels, thanks to their whimsical appearance that is formed by folding the dough in a certain way. They’re particularly enjoyable when paired with a cup of coffee.

10. Scottish Shortbread

Shortbread seems are a pretty lackluster cookie when judged on looks alone, but it’s hard to beat the buttery, crumbly flavor. These cookies are great whether you make them yourself or buy them in a tartan tin. Shortbread also has history: they’ve been around since medieval times in Scotland. Their popularity is sometimes credited to Mary, Queen of Scots, who apparently enjoyed them during her reign in the 16th century. This story, while fun, is probably false. These traditional Christmas cookies predate Queen Mary’s reign.

11. Mexican Biscochitos

Are those wedding bells I hear? Why no, it’s just biscochitos. These are usually called “Mexican wedding cookies” outside Mexico, and they are indeed heavily associated with matrimony. That doesn’t mean you can’t have them whenever, though, and they are a nice treat in cold weather. These tend to be very simple to make. Biscochitos are flour, nuts and a few other ingredients are baked together and then rolled in powdered sugar.

12. French Madeleines

The French consider madeleines to be a small cake, but we’ll call them Christmas cookies for simplicity’s sake. These spongy pastries are not for the novice cook, as the recipe is a little complex. Fortunately, you can also buy them at any French bakery. Madeleines can be made in a few different flavors, like chocolate and lavender, but lemon ones are the most common. Madeleines are some of the prettiest cookies in existence, so they’ll work very well for your Instagram. They’re best paired with a cup of tea and a novel (maybe even French novelist Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, where madeleines play a central role).

The post The 12 Days Of Cookiemas: Holiday Pastries From Around The World appeared first on Babbel.

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[badchoicesposts]

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 18

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar), Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season. Some of the dialogue was taken directly from Book 1 of The Royal Romance but was changed a bit to fit my fic.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @indiacater, @alexintheskyy, @jared2612

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

It was freezing out. December was in full swing and as the snow fell softly outside, Ali was glad to be in the safety of Drake and Liam’s apartment, trapped on the couch within a blanket burrito of her own making. Winter was her favorite season and there was nothing she loved more than being cuddled up under warm blankets while there was a slight chill in the air of the apartment. Drake had been scarce recently, and Ali had suspicions that he was seeing someone even if he refused to confirm it. Liam, however, was due back home from work any second, and she was eagerly awaiting his return. 

As she was reaching for the remote to change the channel, the door opened and the man who was plaguing her thoughts walked in bundled up in a long, black, wool coat, and burgundy scarf in attempts to block out the cold, New York air. There was a slight sprinkling of snow covering his clothing, and as he saw Ali curled up on the couch, he was filled with both envy of her warmth and amusement at her ridiculous appearance. He quickly shrugged off his coat, pulled the blankets off of her and dropped down on top of her small frame. She jumped at the intrusion and hastily reached over his back to throw the blankets back over them.

“What are you doing?” she half-screamed, her body now shivering along with his. 

“I was cold,” he said with a chuckle, resting his head on her chest. 

Ali smiled down at him and relaxed as she felt the material of his suit jacket under her fingers. She loved the playful side of her boyfriend that not many got to see. However, not seconds later, she jumped again as Liam pushed her shirt up, gripping onto the warm skin of her sides with his cold hands.

“Your hands are freezing!” she said. 

She squirmed underneath him in attempts to get away from him, but the weight of his body on top of hers kept her firmly in place. 

“Stop touching me with your disgustingly cold fingers,” she whined, still trying to push him away.

“But, you’re so warm,” he spoke into the soft material of her shirt. 

By now his hands were beginning to warm up, and although she wanted to be petty and continue to complain about his actions, her heart softened as he closed his eyes and attempted to wrap his arms around her. Ali moved her own hands up from his back and began to run her fingers gently through Liam’s blond hair, causing his body to melt closer into her.

“You’re so lucky that I love you,” she teased.

“I know.”

~~~

Ali pulled her covers up to her chin and stared out the window in her room from her spot on the bed. The sun had risen a few hours ago, and she knew that she should be getting ready for the second day of the Apple Blossom Festival, but she couldn’t seem to find the courage to get out of bed. Last night had been good. It was fun, and she genuinely enjoyed herself. But, for some reason, she broke down in tears as soon as her head hit the pillow. She was exhausted and scared, and having to come home to an empty room after being surrounded by people all day made her feel isolated.

A loud knock startled her, but instead of answering the door, she sunk further into her pillows and pulled her blankets tighter around her body. The knocking persisted, and when she still didn’t respond, the door opened.

“Why are you still in bed?” Bertrand asked, as he and Maxwell walked into the room. 

Ali didn’t have a good answer for this. She didn’t know how to explain to them that she didn’t feel like she was strong enough to get out of bed. She didn’t know how to tell them that she felt like she was falling apart; that she knew someone was literally out to get her while she was pregnant with the future heir to the throne, and it was mentally exhausting. All she wanted in that moment was Liam. She wanted to run into his arms and have him tell her that everything was going to be okay, but she knew that once he found out about her pregnancy all hell would break loose. He couldn’t be strong for her right now. She needed to be strong for herself. 

“I’m getting up now,” she said instead, throwing the blankets off of her body.

“The best dressed lady today will be crowned Apple Queen. The title itself is mostly just for show, but it is important in terms of impressing the people and gaining their favor,” Bertrand said, urging her to move faster.

He shoved a garment bag into her hand that she hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“What’s this?” she asked, placing it down onto the bed so she could unzip it.

“I was able to procure a historically accurate rendition of a Cordonian peasant’s best gown from the country’s most prestigious stage production company,” he said.

Ali pulled the blue and white dress off of the hanger and went into the bathroom to change. Bertrand wore a satisfied smile on his face when she emerged. 

“You are guaranteed to become Apple Queen in this dress,” he said, as Ali fiddled with her hair.

“Are you ready?” Bertrand asked, giving her a once over, his eyes lingering on her face. 

She nodded in response, and the three of them made their way out to the orchard. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but make sure not to pout in front of the cameras,” Bertrand whispered, looking back down at her face again.

The fact that Bertrand was still being his usual, pushy self was reassuring. It made her feel normal on the outside, even when her mind was bustling with chaos.

The air was buzzing with excitement when they stepped into the orchard, but Ali couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. The thought that someone was watching her was unsettling.

“Ready to show off your baking skills?” Hana asked, cheerfully.

Lizzie groaned from beside her. The dark-haired woman was wearing large sunglasses and was obviously hungover from drinking too much the previous night.

“Yeah, I am actually,” Ali said happily. 

If there was one thing she was happy about, it was that her love for baking was finally being put to use. Although, it didn’t slip her mind that it was kind of ridiculous to be baking in the middle of the orchard. 

“Good, because right now you need to focus on impressing the queen. Let everything else fall away and make House Beaumont proud,” Bertrand said from his spot next to her. 

He and Maxwell excused themselves, and Madeleine sidled up next to her.

“Lady Alison, it’s so good to see you. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to join us in the festivities today,” she said in a sweet tone that Ali recognized as anything but nice. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. 

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. You’ve just been looking a little… sick lately,” the other woman commented with a smirk.

“Have I?” Ali asked, wondering if Madeleine actually knew something or if she was just trying to intimidate her again.

“Yes, and I noticed that you left the festival quite early yesterday evening. I have to admit I’m beginning to wonder if the pressure of the season is starting to get to you.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I feel just fine, Madeleine,” Ali said, ending the conversation. 

The pie baking competition was easy. She spent most of it taking orders from Olivia, but she felt no need to fight the duchess on this. Olivia seemed to know what she was doing and arguing would have only slowed the process down. It was the Apple Queen ceremony that had Ali completely flustered. She felt like she was suffocating while she stood with the other ladies as the crowd cheered them on. 

“Lady Alison will be this year’s Apple Queen,” Regina said, pulling Ali out of her thoughts. 

Ali wiped the surprised look off of her face and smiled at the crowd. 

“Wooooo! Go, Ali. Party like it 1299! All hail the Apple Queen from the Big Apple!” Maxwell yelled from somewhere in the crowd. 

Ali held back a laugh as she approached Regina for the “coronation”

“Queen Regina, it’s an honor. Thank you all for electing me to represent you as the Apple Queen,” she said, meeting Bertrand’s eyes through the group of people. “I’m happy to accept this esteemed position, and I will treat it with the utmost respect.”

He nodded proudly at her, a genuine smile on his face. She went through the rest of the ceremony with a new surge of confidence. She knew that if Bertrand, the most difficult person to impress, was proud of her, then she had done something right. 

“As your final honor, you are entitled to a kiss, my queen,” Liam said, approaching her and kneeling before her. 

Ali looked down at him, the adoration in his eyes evident, and her mood came crashing back down. Time seemed to stand still in that moment. The pride that she had been feeling just moments before had been replaced with a feeling of guilt for not telling him about the baby. The seriousness of their situation was once again brought to her attention and hearing him call her “my queen” brought up a negative emotion that she couldn’t quite place. It was a cross between longing and dread. Longing for the day he could officially call her that, but dread at the thought that everything would come crashing down and that day would never come. 

She remembered all of the good times they had shared together: the two of them wrapped up in each other’s arms in bed, Liam mocking her for being afraid of a nonexistent ghost, their first “I love you”. Then the bad began to come forward: her crying for him at the airport as he got on a plane back to Cordonia, every night she couldn’t sleep without him the first few months after he left, the press cornering them the morning after the bachelor party and Liam dismissing her. A look of confusion passed over his face at her troubled expression, but she quickly wiped it away and forced on a smile. 

“Prince Liam, I humbly accept your offer,” she said, 

Liam rose to his feet and kissed her cheek gently, his hand squeezing hers in both a comforting and questioning manner. The crowd began to disperse as the Apple Queen ceremony came to an end, and Regina approached her, a diplomatic smile on her face.

“It’s time I head back to Applewood Manor, but please feel free to enjoy the festival as the reigning Apple Queen. Past queens have been popular at the apple bobbing contest.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The queen walked away, and Ali visibly relaxed. 

“There’s our glorious Apple Queen,” Maxwell said happily, pushing past groups of people to get to her.

“I heard you out there. Thanks for cheering me on,” she said, punching his arm playfully.

“Well, somebody had to do it, but I’m actually here to tell you that Liam’s waiting for you in the manor’s conservatory. It’s across the estate.” 

“Thanks, Max. I’ll head over there now. Hey, can you meet me later? There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she said. 

She had made up her mind. Maxwell had been in her corner since day one, and she needed to tell him. He shot her a confused look, but nodded anyway. 

The conservatory was beautiful. As Ali entered it, the smell of flowers and plants overtook her senses, and she stopped to breath it in for a second. It had a calming effect on her. The sun shone through the entire area through a glass ceiling, and it gave her an odd sense of being both outside and inside at the same time. She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe before walking further into the conservatory. 

Liam was standing in front of a large fountain in the middle of the conservatory.

“Ali, thank you for meeting me,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m fine,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in hers.

“You didn’t look fine in the orchard,” he persisted in a low voice.

“Really, I’m okay. It was all just a bit overwhelming.”

“The ceremony?” 

Ali nodded in response but didn’t meet his eyes. Liam sighed softly, his concern clearly evident.

“I spoke to Drake,” Liam said, softly.

Ali’s head snapped up. Drake wouldn’t tell him about the baby. There was no way.

“He voiced a concern that the person who tipped off the press about your ‘relationship’ with him may try to hurt you again,” he said.

“And you agree with him?” she asked, quickly recovering. 

“I have learned to trust Drake’s instincts. If he believes something is wrong then I know he has reason to.” 

“I think it may have been Madeleine.” 

“Why do you think that?” Liam asked, shocked.

“She said some things earlier. Maybe she was just being passive aggressive, but they didn’t sit well with me,” she said.

Liam nodded and pursed his lips in concentration. 

“I’ll have someone look into it.”

Ali nodded and pointed in the direction of the door. She was trying to get out of their as quickly as possible, her discomfort and paranoia dictating her every move.

“We should probably head back,” she said, already turning to leave.

“Wait!” Liam said, causing her to turn back to him. “Are you sure everything’s okay. You still seem upset.” 

Ali sighed. She knew that then would have been the perfect moment to tell him, but as she looked up at him, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“Can you hold me?” she whispered, finally breaking down and needing his arms around her. 

Liam looked down at her and pulled her glasses gently off of her face. He placed them into his jacket pocket before pulling her into his arms. Ali buried her face in his chest and willed all of her anxieties away. 

“What’s bothering you, my love?” Liam asked, his voice was gentle, soothing.

“I just… have a bad feeling,” she said, moving out of his arms and wiping away a stray tear. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing. If there’s something causing this feeling you know you could tell me, right?” he asked, placing his hands on her arms to keep her from turning away from him. 

“Of course, I know. There’s just… a lot going on,” she said, nervously fiddling with one of the buttons of his white shirt.

“You mean with the season?” he asked.

She nodded, and reached into his pocket to pull out her glasses. 

“We really need to get back out there. Madeleine already noticed that I left the festival early yesterday. I’m sure other people have too,” she said. 

Ali reached up and pulled Liam into a gentle kiss. It was slow and soft, and she tried to pour as much of her love into it as possible. 

“I love you,” she mumbled against his lips. 

“I love you too,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the conservatory. 

They parted ways when they made it back to the orchard, and Ali took Regina’s advice and found the apple bobbing contest. 

“Hey, are you going to participate?” Lizzie asked, her sunglasses now off as she chewed an apple. 

“Yeah, Regina said that it’s pretty popular with Apple Queens, so I figured I might as well give it a shot,” she said, with a smile. 

The crowd cheered enthusiastically as a little girl in a peach dress pulled her head from the bucket, a large apple clenched between her teeth. 

“Lady Alison, would you like to go next?” the woman in charge of the booth asked.

“Yes, I would love to,” Ali said, tying her hair back. 

She saw the press gather around them enthusiastically as she took off her glasses and handed them to Lizzie. Ali took a breath and picked out an apple before placing her head in the large basin. Her teeth closed around the Cordonian Ruby, and she once again fought back a gag as she raised her head, the press snapping pictures the entire time. 

“Oh, these really are terrible,” Ali mumbled to Lizzie under her breath as she took her glasses back. 

“I quite like them, actually. But, they’re definitely an acquired taste,” she responded as they linked arms and walked away from the booth. 

After she decided that she had spent enough time at the festival, Ali left the orchard and made a beeline for her room, ready to lie down. 

“You wanted to talk?” Maxwell asked, already waiting by her door for her. 

“We should talk in here,” Drake said, opening the door to his room and nodding for them to come in before she had a chance to respond. 

When Ali entered the room she was surprised to see both Bastien and Charlie waiting for them there. 

“What’s going on?” she asked confused. 

“Maxwell mentioned that you wanted to talk to him earlier, and I figured now would be a good time to tell you our plan,” Drake said. 

“Why am I here?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, what did you need to talk to me about?” Maxwell piped up. 

Ali was beginning to get overwhelmed. She had originally only planned on speaking to Maxwell, now she was standing in a room full of men, and she was being forced to talk about something intimate with them.

“Ali, why don’t you take a seat?” Bastien said, placing his hand on her elbow and leading her to a chair in the corner of the room. 

Ali took a seat and looked up to Drake for reassurance. He simply nodded at her, and she took a breath. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Maxwell and Charlie simultaneously dropped their jaws, and the former snapped his head back and forth between her and Drake.

“The two of you?” he asked, gesturing wildly between them. 

It was Ali’s turn to drop her jaw in shock. 

“No!” she said, grabbing the cushion that was behind her and throwing it at him. 

It hit him square in the face, and Drake let out an amused chuckle. 

“I’m sorry! You just looked over at him before you said it so I assumed,” Maxwell said, trying to defend himself. 

“Ew! No! I looked over at him because Drake was the only one that knew. Or at least, I thought he was.”

“Hey!” Drake said, offended, “I know we’re just friends, but I wouldn’t say ‘ew’!”

“Really? You want to have this conversation now?” Ali asked sarcastically. 

“I just think “ew” is a bit of an exaggeration,” Drake said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ali rolled her eyes and was going to respond when Maxwell spoke up instead.

“Liam doesn’t know?” he asked. 

Ali looked down at her hands and picked at her fingernail. All of the energy she had from bickering with Drake now suddenly gone.

“Wait. What do you mean you thought Drake was the only one that knew?” Charlie asked. 

“I got a tip off that someone was trying to sell pictures to the press of Drake buying a pregnancy test, and Ali throwing up after the Regatta,” Bastien began. “We assumed that the person following them that day is the same one who tipped off the press after the Derby. We don’t know for sure that whoever’s doing this is dangerous, but we need to be extra cautious now that she’s carrying the future heir to the throne. Charlie, you’re Ali’s new guard. I need you to stay close to her at all times and look out for anything suspicious.”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie responded, serious again. 

“Ali, you need to tell Liam,” Bastien said softly, now turning to her. 

She could see the sympathetic look in his eyes as he spoke. His demeanor now calm and reassuring instead of authoritative like it was before. 

“I know,” she responded, nervously biting her lip again. 

“Why haven’t you told him yet?” Maxwell asked cautiously, afraid of setting her off again.

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do. Constantine already doesn’t want me to become queen. How do you think he’s going to react when he hears that I’m pregnant?” she said, gripping tightly onto the arm of the chair she was sitting in. 

She was getting increasingly agitated and uncomfortable at the situation she was currently in. The four men exchanged nervous looks, and this only served to irritate Ali even more.

“Don’t do that! If you have something to say then just say it!” she said angrily. 

“You’re right. We don’t know what’s going to happen when everyone finds out, and it most likely won’t be good,” Bastien said, approaching her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But, Liam needs to know. He can help you through this.”

Ali visibly deflated. 

“I know. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Look, none of us know what you’re going through, but we just want to help. Get some rest tonight. You can think about talking to him tomorrow,” Drake said, as everyone began walking to the door. 

Ali nodded and got up from her chair as well, wishing she could just curl up and sleep through the next nine months. 

[theavengerfairy]

One Step Closer - Chapter 4

Previously known as “Gravity”

Aaravos adored games, especially when those games involved real risks and consequences. Every sparkling fiber of his being would vibrate with excitement as he carefully ushered each pawn into place to create a grand masterpiece that he alone could see unfolding. At times, one of those pawns might start to shift out of alignment, operating of its own accord instead of by the will of its master, but it never took more than a few polished half-truths to lure the insurgent back into place. Patience was the key to success, and if being imprisoned for longer than he cared to calculate had taught him anything, it was patience.

Things may have seemed placid in Viren's cell, but as his grub-like vassal clung to the shell of the mage's ear, Aaravos sensed that the castle was still abuzz even at this late hour. He could feel the reverberations of marching feet through the stone floor and walls, and he could faintly hear the whispering of a gentle wind overtop of Viren's muffled snores. Most importantly, however, he could sense the baleful nip tainting the air as something wicked steadily closed in on the dungeon where it sensed its master's presence.

"It would seem that your phantoms have returned." he crooned smoothly, fully aware that Viren could not hear him from the realm of dreams. "Do not fret. I will take care of everything."

Peeling itself off of Viren's ear, the little caterpillar inched its way across the mage's cot and then up the cell wall until he reached the grate in the ceiling. After wiggling through with ease, it only had to wait a moment or so in the deserted courtyard above before being blanketed in shadow as four pairs of blank, glowing, purple-tinged eyes peered down at it from within towers of churning smoke that vaguely resembled the shape of elves. To anyone else, these creatures of shadow would've been terrifying, but the little caterpillar raised itself up and stared right back at them with an air of haughtiness.

"Your master is resting, but it is not yet time for you to do the same. You still have work to do." Aaravos crooned without a hint of hesitance even though the phantoms could easily trample the caterpillar beneath their heels if they wished too. Why? Even though they could, he knew that they wouldn't, for just like the mage who had summoned them, they were also drawn to the power emanating off of him.

"Your master's possessions have been scattered across the land in an attempt to control him, and one of these relics could be your and his undoing. Bring back the coin in which your leader is imprisoned, the leader who in his pride led you all to your deaths, and you will soon have your rest."

Though their faces showed no expression as the shadows continued to listlessly sway back and forth in the wind, Aaravos could sense their reluctance. It seemed even as phantoms, traces of past loyalties and autonomous thought still lived on inside them; this, however, was not a major problem for him.

"Why do you hesitate? Does it not anger you that the one responsible for your demise now has a chance to return home to the open arms of his family while yours grieve your loss? He made the call to move forward with your mission knowing full well that your chances of survival were slim, and now he simply gets to walk away from that while your blood, the blood of those who trusted him, stains the floors of this palace? Should he not suffer a fate worse than death?"

One by one, a change swept over each ghost, their eyes glowing brighter as their previous uncertainty was burned up by the flames of bitterness; it was a light and a heat that Aaravos never grew tired off as he drank it in again and again.

"Go. Find your leader's coin and its brothers. Justice will not be denied."

-----------------------

"Can I skewer him?"

"No."

"What about mildly maim him?"

"No."

"...Can I at least give him a bad enough gash that he'll need stitches?"

"No! The last thing we need to do is draw attention to ourselves by being petty and starting a fight."

"He kidnapped Callum and Maddie!"

"And we are going to discreetly get them back. We fight only as a last resort."

"Ugh, fine!"

It wasn't that Anora couldn't understand Rayla's desire for payback, but retribution never just ended once the scores were even. Having to worry about a vengeful party pursuing them would only further complicate their already complex quest, so for now retaliation, though tempting, was not an option.

It hadn't exactly taken the two elves long to realize that something was wrong, but true to the stories Madeleine had told Anora about Midan, the blacksmith's son indeed proved to be a slippery serpent to catch. Despite managing to procure adequate disguises and sneak into town fairly quickly, Midan was already gone by the time they found the shop and discovered the note that Madeleine had managed to tuck amongst the tools in the back room without getting caught. The fact that they had to ask around about the location of the artisans' fair before finding someone that actually knew only added further to Midan's head start, and while Anora and Rayla probably could have caught up with him if they were on their own, Zym's restlessness meant making occasional stops during their journey, thus allowing the scoundrel to remain one step ahead of them.

By the time they arrived at the fairgrounds, the festivities were already in full swing with more humans crowding around exhibits and mingling between stalls than either elf had seen in her whole life. From this resulted their current situation of hiding in a dense thicket of shrubs not too far off from the line of tents, Rayla keeping watch while Anora attempted to coax Zym into a basket that the younger elf had "borrowed" from the back of an unwatched cart.

"It's only for a little bit, cutie, I promise. Come on! You want another treat?" Grabbing one of the fresh figs from the rations in her bag, Anora placed it inside the basket. "There, now you've got a fig, an apple, some berries, and some milkfruit, a feast fit for a prince. What do ya say, Zym?"

After a moment of thinking as critically as a baby dragon could, Zym tentatively sniffed the mouth of the basket before apparently being won over as he hoped inside with a happy trill. Once she had secured the lid of the basket in place and carefully shrugged the case onto her back, Anora fixed her hood and cloak and stuffed her hands into her gloves, Rayla following suit.

"I still don't see why we can't just split up and meet back here. We'll cover more ground that way." Rayla grumbled as she fiddled with the pink finger of her gloves that had been stuffed with leaves and a twig to mimic a fifth finger. A surprised sputter sprayed from her lips when Anora suddenly appeared in front of her and began smudging dirt over her markings to complete her disguise.

"Midan is smart. If he notices the same two hooded figures frequenting his booth, he might become suspicious, and the longer we're here, the higher our chances of getting caught become. We need to find them, come up with a plan, execute it, and then leave as quickly and quietly as possible." With her and Rayla's tattoos concealed beneath a layer of grime, Anora briskly exited the safety of the shrubs and beckoned Rayla to follow her with a small jerk of her head. "Come on!"

Zym thankfully stayed contently quiet in the basket as the girls crept past the outermost tents and into the fray, heads down and senses alert. After passing several stalls from all of which the heavenly smell of baked goods wafted, it dawned on them that the booths were probably arranged according to trade, meaning they would not have to scour the entire grounds so long as they found the designated area for the blacksmiths. The density of the crowds and the scarcity of maps or directional signs to promote more sales as s wandered aimlessly about ensured that their task remained somewhat difficult, but the smell of burning timber and the ringing of many mallets hammering away at different metals eventually drew them to the right place. As the fourth stall on their left came into view, Rayla was the first to catch a glimpse of those familiar green eyes beneath that mop of fluffy, brown hair, and it didn't take long for them to lock back onto her.

Callum pretended not to notice the two elves until they had crossed over to the stall, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling as he made his way over to the booth's counter as casually as he could. Casting an apprehensive glance back at Midan, who was busy chatting with two reasonably attractive dames at the other end of the stand, he made sure to grab a few odd bits and baubles as he went.

"Hi ladies! What can I help you with?!" he announced quite loudly, depositing the knickknacks onto the counter with a harsh clamor, and to his relief, Midan didn't even spare him a look of disdain. Picking up one of the miscellaneous trinkets scattered in front of him, he held it out as if showing it to the two elves, his voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned over the countertop. "I can't talk long without Midan becoming suspicious. Where's Zym?"

Rayla jerked her head toward the basket while Anora took the trinket from Callum and turned it over in her palm. "Are you alright? Where's Maddie?"

"She's in the back and we're both fine other than being a little tired. In fact, she's been tinkering with something since our arrival last night that she believes will distract Midan long enough for us to slip away."

Pride dressed Anora's lips with a lustrous shimmer like the most beautiful of rouges. "Why am I not surprised? Is there anything that we can do to help?"

"There's one more thing that we need but haven't been able to get since we're constantly being watched."

"What do you need?"

"Wildflowers. Lots of 'em."

Rayla's nose wrinkled at the absurd request. "Flowers? What are flowers going to do?"

"He's allergic." Anora muttered, nodding at Midan as theories about Maddie's plan began to take form in her mind. "He obviously can't see us giving them to you."

"Bring them to the back of the tent and toss a rock through the back entrance to let Maddie know that you've made the dropoff. She'll tell you the rest of the plan, and I'll do what I can to keep Midan busy in the meantime."

Rayla groaned under her breath. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Why do you always assume that I'm going to do something stupid?"

"Because you usually do something stupid!"

"You two are cute, but let's save the flirting for a less precarious time, yeah?" Out of the corner of her eye, Anora noticed the two maidens who had been preoccupying Midan's attention were departing, meaning that the louse would be on them in moments if she and Rayla stuck around for too much longer. Setting the trinket that she was still holding back down on the counter, she extended her hand to Callum, who shook it as soon as he realized what she was doing.

"Don't push yourself too hard. You'll need whatever energy you have left for hightailing out of here."

Callum's eyes remained locked with Rayla's until she and Anora were swallowed up by the throng of festival patrons. Gathering up the samples that he had brought out, he spun on his heels and beelined for the curtains separating the front of the tent from the workspace in back. However, just before he could cross the threshold and disappear, he was yanked to a stop by Midan's hand firmly clamping down on his shoulder.

"Don't tell me you spent all that time talking to those two clients and didn't sell anything?"

Callum swallowed thickly to push down the anxious butterflies fluttering in the back of his throat. "They...They said that they had some other errands to run first and would come back if they had the money."

"Let me handle the transaction when they return. I want to make sure that the payment is...authentic given their haggard appearance. Business is going to slow down as the crowds congregate at the indoor attractions to escape the heat of the day, so go wash off and polish those samples. I trust the cleanliness of those bums as much as their money."

--------------------

The sun hung just above the tops of the tents on the far west side of the festival grounds, painting everything with a golden glow.

"Blasted sun. No matter where I stand, it's shining in my eyes." Midan grumbled sourly, shielding his face with his hand as he stumbled about half-blind. "Clem!"

"Um, it's Callum."

"Whatever. Go scrounge around in the back and see if you can find anything to block out that darn sun!"

"Uh, you got it!"

As Callum slipped through the curtains in the back room, Madeleine raised her head from the two small metal tubes sitting in her lap and locked eyes with him. At his nod, she rose, handing him one of the cylinders and held the other to her chest as she left her comrade to gather both their things.

"Midan?" She winced as she poked her head through the doorway right into a particularly bright ray of sunlight.

"Why aren't you working?"

"I'm waiting for the last order to cool down enough so I can polish it." Raising one hand to shield her face while blinking rapidly to quell the tears that welled to defend her eyes from the bright assault, Maddie just barely made out the Midan's silhouette and strode over to him. "I just wanted to talk to you about an idea I had for a new product."

"You're being unusually considerate. You heatsick or something?"

"No. You and I may not like each other, but your dad is still my business partner. He's going to need all the extra cash that he can get for his medical expenses, right?"

"Touché. Tell me what you've got."

"I can do better than that. I built a prototype during my lunch break!" Tucking the braided cord attached to the bottom of the tube beneath her thumb to hide it from sight, Maddie held out the gadget for Midan to see. "I haven't decided on an official name yet, but for now I'm calling them celebration starters!"

Midan squinted at the cylinder. "...It's an embellished pipe."

"Wrong! It's much more than that!"

"Is that so? How does it work then, little genius?"

"Like this!"

Without missing a beat, Madeleine pulled the string attached to the celebration starter as far as it would go and then released it, aiming the barrel directly at Midan's face. Wildflowers of all colors shot into the air with a pop, and the noise was soon followed by three others just like it as more flowers filled the air. The festival-goers all gasped in delight as the fragrant petals rained down on them, but Midan's reddening eyes had bugged out in horror.

"You little-" His exclamation was cut off by a thunderous sneeze, Madeleine springing just beyond the reach of his fingers when he made a mad grab from her.

As much as she would've liked to stick around and relish over her fine work, Maddie speedily vaulted herself over the counter and sprinted into the crowd. Catching a flicker of Callum's scarlet scarf in the evening light somewhere off to her right, she veered off in that direction, focusing all of her strength into her legs until she had caught up with him, and together they ran towards the chosen meeting place: the eastern entrance of the grounds. Their feet had already begun to burn like they were running over a bed of hot coals by the time the pillars decorated with many colorful banners and other ornaments rose into few, and just as they flung themselves down at the base of the one columns in order to catch their breath, Anora and Rayla burst forth from the sea of people, panting heavily as they refused to slow even slightly.

"Get up! We gotta go!" the latter shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Before Callum could ask what was wrong, the crowd parted for a portly man with a crimson face marred by an angry scowl as he charged after the two elves with his son and daughter flanking him.

"Thieves! Thieves!" he bellowed.

Anora grabbed Callum and Maddie by their arms and more or less dragged them to their feet while Rayla continued to run, her fist pressed against her chest as something glittered inside. The prince's mouth hung agape, his eyes darting from his friends to their pursuers.

"What did you guys do?!"

----------------------------

Moments earlier...

It was a beautiful sight that Anora would've liked to enjoy, the flower petals dancing through the air like snow after being launched from Madeleine's invention, but she and Rayla dutifully slipped the now empty gadgets into their belts and ducked behind a wall of stalls. Keeping their heads down and bodies low to the ground, they zipped along their predetermined course completely unnoticed aside from catching the attention of the occasional small child who was quickly shushed by a preoccupied parent, and the steady sinking of the sun created many long shadows that stretched out to offer them additional cover. However, it soon became apparent that they had forgotten to consider one particular detail when it came to their seemingly seamless plan: Zym.

Having been startled out of a deep nap by the loud pops of the celebration starters, Zym clawed quite furiously at the lid of the basket, and with a few good swipes, he managed to tear a hole just large enough for him to wiggle out of. His little feet scarcely touched Anora's back before he unfurled his wings and sprang into the air, giving neither elf much time to react as he glided through the air and scampered through the back entryway of a large, deep indigo tent as soon as he touched the ground.

When their minds finally processed what had just happened, Rayla and Anora dug their heels into the dirt and swerved in the direction of the tent, halting just a few inches shy of the opening in the wall of cloth.

"Zym! Come back here! You can't be in there!" Rayla called as she peered into the darkness, searching for any sign of white down or icy blue scales that should've stuck out like a sore thumb against the shadows of the tent. All she was met with was a soft, anxious whine from the dragonling, the origin of which she couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I don't think he's coming out on his own," Anora muttered, sliding the basket off of her back. Taking the lavender scarf that hung around her waist and laying it out flat on the ground, she placed the busted lid on top of it and wrapped it in the soft but fairly sturdy material, tightly tying the ends to ensure that it didn't come loose. Tucking the lid under her arm, she handed the barrel of the basket to Rayla. "I'll try herding him back towards you, but you'll need to be completely silent if we don't want him to bolt. Think you can do that, Moondrop?"

"...You're kidding, right?"

"I know, I know. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Hearts hammering against their ribs, they slunk into the belly of the pavilion, their soft, careful footsteps sounding more like the stomping of elephants to their own ears. When their eyes adjusted to the dimness, they found that the inside was mostly filled with an array of colorful tapestries decorated with what had to be the most degrading depictions of different kinds of elves that either girl had ever seen. Towards the center of the room stood three ornately carved, wooden pedestals topped with soft pillows, and above each one hung a series of banners that could just barely be read from where they stood if they squinted.

"...Haunted Coins from Xadia?" Rayla scoffed with blatant disgust, "Are you serious?! We don't even have haunted coins! Who would actually believe this nonsense?!"

"You'd be surprised," Anora remarked absent-mindedly, having already dismissed the laughable exhibit and resumed her scouring for the baby dragon. As soon as she noticed a pale shape crouching behind the base of pillar closest to them, she pointed it out to Rayla followed by drawing two arcs in the air that eventually met at a point in front of her. Rayla immediately understood and began to close in on the pillar from the left while Anora took to the right.

"Zym," she called when she was close enough to see the tip of the dragonling's nose poking out from behind the pillar. "I know you're a bit spooked right now, but we have to go before we get caught. There will be no more loud, scary noises, I promise."

Zym's answer was a shrill, suspicious yip, nostrils flaring slightly when Anora entered his line of sight. Slowly dropping down into a crouch, the elf held her hand out to him as she inched closer, not daring to glance at Rayla to ensure she was ready and risk Zym realizing what they were up to. Fortunately, Zym's attention remained fixated on Anora as he shuffled his feet uncertainly while Rayla tiptoed up behind him, basket held out in front of her. They had him cornered, and when Anora lunged forward, Zym spun on his heels and fled straight towards the mouth of the basket. At the last moment, however, he spread his wings and splayed out his little limbs, his front claws grabbing onto the rim, and using the edge as a foothold, he propelled himself upward at a slight angle. Anora leaped into the air before he could get very high, wrapping her arms around the prince's middle and pulling him to her chest. Unfortunately, she hadn't paid much thought to her trajectory in her haste, and thus she came crashing down on top of the pedestal, which proved to be much flimsier than it looked as it crumbled beneath her weight.

"Yep, that's definitely going to leave a mark." she groaned, rolling onto her side and then up into a sitting position all while Zym flailed in her arms. Rayla was by her side in the blink of an eye where she held the basket steady so Anora could place Zym inside.

"He's a little fighter; I suppose that's a good thing though." the Oceancry elf remarked as she secured the lid once more and slipped her arm through one of the vessel's straps, hoisting it up onto her back again. Shifting onto her knees so she could stand back up, she jerked to a stop when something resting on the bed of splinters beneath her snagged her eye.

"Rayla...you said Xadia doesn't have any haunted coins, right? Then why does that one have a moving face on it?"

"You mean your reflection? Besides, that isn't even a Xadian coin..."

"Rayla?"

The color drained from Rayla's already pale face and her eyes widened to the size of two full moons as she stooped down, unable to believe what she saw. Staring back at her was a face she knew all too well despite being clouded with a fear that she had never seen adorning those features before, and as she gently scooped the coin into her trembling hand, she watched the terror melt away and sheer relief rise up in its place.

"Runaan..." she whimpered, hand clamped over her mouth as she fought back the urge to break into tears. Suddenly, it felt very hard to breathe, as if the weight of the entire world was pressing down on her lungs. "...how did you...what...who did this to you?"

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

Anora's head snapped up to behold a middle-aged man and four children of varying maturities looming in the main entrance of the tent. The man, obviously the owner of the tent, glared at them with two small, beady eyes that peered out from behind bushy brown brows and bulging cheeks, grinding his feet into the dirt as he prepared to charge. Snatching up the pillow from the remains of the pedestal, she hurled it at the man, nailing him in the face.

"Rayla, run!"

With their father momentarily disoriented, the two eldest children, a boy and a girl, rushed at them. Glancing upwards, Anora noticed how the weight of the numerous tapestries was causing the roof of the tent to sag, so she grabbed the closest one and yanked it as hard as she could. This proved to be just enough strain as the center of the tent caved inward, cutting them off from their assailants. Brought back to her wits by Anora's shout, the commotion, or a combination of the two, Rayla closed her fist tightly around the coin and barreled back out into the open with Anora close behind her.

[lizzybeth1986]

What are your overall thoughts on Madeleine as a character including what transpired between her and Hana? I've felt iffy about her, but I'm not sure how to phrase that. I think you can better articulate and explain than I could 😅

Not to boast…but you’ve come to the right person (besides @callmetippytumbles who has made excellent points time and again about how the writing centers Madeleine in ways that they should have been centering Hana). I have written A LOT about that issue especially. Here are some of my meta on that if you’re interested:

Brushed Under the Carpet: Madeleine as an Alternate LI (this was written after TRR Book 3 Chapter 9, where they were subtly hinting at making them a ship).

QT on Book 3 Chapter 16 (Tbh thankfully the bit I was predicting here - Madeleine getting the coming out story that should have been Hana’s - wound up not happening, though part of it could have been from them having to scrap the entire idea after the backlash).

How Do You Fix Hana’s Characterization in TRR? (this essay listed a whole set of changes both to help strengthen Hana’s storyline and to give her the attention and validation she deserved but didn’t get in the actual story)

This replay to an ask posted after 3 of the 4 writers on the team claimed Hana was the kind of person they would marry.

A lot of this illustrates my problems with Madeleine on a level of characterization (and Tippy covers the aspects that deal not with Hana, but with Madeleine's half-baked redemption arc and how the narrative tries really hard to convince us that she does her job well, even when she isn’t doing it properly).

With regards to Madeleine herself, I feel like they started out fully intending that the reader hate her and view her as a rival, before turning the tables and establishing her as “innocent” of the conspiracy (though still extremely unlikeable). In narrative structure, the bachelorette chapter had a lot of striking similarities to the Lythikos chapter where you found out about Olivia’s painful childhood before she mocked Drake about his missing sister. I feel like the aim was to make us see Madeleine in a different light, while still remembering why we dislike her.

Somewhere along the line (with Hana’s chocolate scene) they went too far, and Madeleine went from unlikeable to completely repulsive. After that, the team attempted to completely backtrack, by cramming in a sympathy arc for her and after the “hazing process” excuse, what she did to Hana especially was never addressed again. Suddenly she was the patriot who would sacrifice her life and happiness for Cordonia, a figure to be admired and pitied. A woman who was immensely talented and did her job well [even when she actually didn’t]). Most of her characterization, really, consists of retconning.

But I have no interest in Madeleine, or her characterization. I just don’t. No, what I’m going to touch upon today is narrative treatment.

–

Rival figures are important in a story. They’re a foil to the main character: sometimes they exist simply to make the MC look better (ew), sometimes they’re there to show the MC what the larger society in their world is like, and what challenges they may face, and sometimes they’re an unexpected ally after the MC figures out the problem goes way deeper than the rivalry with them. So if you have a rival who behaves badly, treats the people around her badly? That in itself is not really a bad thing.

It makes me hurt for the characters at the receiving end, but as long as long as the narrative validates their experience on its own initiative, and allows them space, I will be fine. If I’m shown bullying and abuse in a narrative towards a character, I’m going to want to see the person hurting from this:

1. have support. Immense support

2. have a friend circle that will protect them and put them first

3. have opportunities to talk about what this is doing to them

4. have opportunities to push back against the bully

Personally the bully’s journey or whatever is of no importance to me. I simply don’t care. As much as possible I would not care about what grand monumental realizations they get behind the scenes, or what their rotten-egg-smelling guilt looks like. What matters to me is the person bullied. I need to see them win. I need to see them thrive. I need to see them receive support and validation.

One example I can give in terms of that being done well, is Penelope. Penelope is treated like a servant by Madeleine, called names, forever reminded she is good-for-nothing and useless and can’t do anything right. The bullying is constant and puts an already anxiety-ridden Penelope under additional pressure, to the point that when we meet her at Portavira in Book 3 she is VERY reluctant to return to court, and panics when certain things remind her of Madeleine’s behaviour. You have to coddle and cajole her with promises that Madeleine would never be able to do anything to her, and that she can bring her Emotional Support Animals with her to court. If we choose not to address her concerns, our friends will do it on our behalf. Drake Trauma-Minimizing Walker himself, is shown reassuring her the moment they meet in Portavira:

So it is very possible, even if the rival/bitchy character is expected to not feel remorse, and still retains a huge portion of her bitchiness, that we can still get a satisfying arc where the person in pain has support and care, and can thrive.

In Penelope’s case, perhaps the only downside may be that, while the narrative is clear about Madeleine’s bullying and its impact on Penelope, it still keeps Madeleine comfortably away from this narrative so she doesn’t even have to engage with it. She herself doesn’t exactly face consequences. The truth doesn’t even touch her.

But we don’t feel the pinch of this, so much with Penelope… precisely because PENELOPE is validated, given support and is given the space to completely refuse to even go with them if the MC doesn’t make great efforts to support and be nice to her (this, even though she has herself harmed us). She is allowed to get upset if we even question her on not following the dress code of our bachelorette, because it reminds her of Madeleine’s. She is even ��rewarded” with a guy, no matter which playthrough.

And not every character is going to be a Penelope who will require that level of coddling from other people. So it’s not always about the MC and others needing to constantly protect and reassure such people. Sometimes it’s just simply about whether said character is allowed to push back against the bully. Hana gets a small measure of this when she’s allowed (but only on one occasion, that too a 30 diamond scene that wasn’t even coded properly later) to tell Olivia exactly what she thinks of her (and Olivia is allowed to say shit about her even after that, without Hana ever being allowed the same space again).

Now the thing with Hana (with regards to Madeleine) is…that they could have easily given her space to push back. Easily given the MC opportunities to protect her. Easily ensured that Hana didn’t have to engage with Madeleine if she didn’t want to. Have her whack friends fucking remember what she was put through at least!!!

Let’s go through how that could have been done one by one:

Pushing Back: One of the most bizarre choices the TRR team made was the give the scene about Liam telling Hana he would get her back to court (ergo, that Hana returned through Liam’s help, not Madeleine as the latter kept claiming) to Drake! He gets to narrate this story to the MC, but Hana herself is never allowed to acknowledge the fact or even talk about it. If she were, she would have at least (at the very least!!!) been given chances to hint at Madeleine twisting the truth, implied as much to Madeleine or to the MC, pushed back in her own unique way. The narrative not only pushes the truth of her return in DRAKE’S scene…it also never gives HER the opportunity to do anything actively against Madeleine’s very obvious twisting of the truth. Just so that Madeleine would continue to have way more power over Hana throughout. The bullying occurs much before the incident in Italy, but Hana herself is expected to stay silent.

Support: Now it’s not as if Penelope gets to push back on her own to Madeleine during this time either (except for a few comments here and there). But Penelope does get plenty of support and eventually protection. Does this apply to Hana as well?

Technically, you could view the fondue party scene that took place after the “chocolate allergy” incident as “support” - but at best it’s very weak “support”, and at its worst it really just a scene revolves around all the other characters (especially around gaining Olivia’s friendship), with a hurt, frightened Hana hovering in the background of the scene.

The MC has the option (option!!) to “call Madeleine out” on the events of the previous night when they’re in Paris, but it mostly results in Madeleine pretending it was a test of some sort (which the MC never bothers to contradict even though she knows better). The best case scenario is, well, that…and the worst case scenario is that Hana never really finds out even that, up until the end.

Speaking Out and Validation: Not only does the narrative not address the bullying after it has happened (until the very end of the series), it uses Hana - the woman who was harmed - to minimize its impact as well. On the one occasion you actually do get to talk to her about the night of Madeleine’s bachelorette party, they make Hana say (if you state that you don’t remember anything from that night), that "the tequila brought out Kiara's mean side, and Madeleine's fun side". Madeleine’s “fun side”, presumably, involves her laughing over targeting, torturing and breaking the vulnerable women in her court I suppose. (also, way to do Kiara dirty while forgetting what Madeleine did, PB!)

Further ahead, the MC and her friends promptly forget about this - Hana is expected to help the MC extract important information from her without even bothering to find out if she is comfortable or not, for instance. The forgetfulness gets to the point where, in the epilogue, (when Madeleine repeats to Hana what she’d told the MC back then) the MC acts like it is the first time she is hearing about Madeleine’s intentions to break Hana.

So forget about getting validation, for a large chunk of the narrative Hana wasn’t even allowed to view her own experience with bullying as painful. And if anything, her friend circle didn’t mind putting her needs and comfort last when it suited them.

The biggest problem about the storyline that involves Hana and Madeleine is the question of who should be getting more space and development, and who actually does. The time and energy spent on Hana navigating a court like this which such threats over her head…is spent instead on literally everything else. The time that could have been spent working on Hana’s background and childhood history…was spent to build Madeleine’s redemption arc instead (ironically, Adelaide starts feeding us with that sympathy arc in Shanghai, Hana’s home).

Effort was spent on extolling Madeleine efficiency and great work, even though there was very little of it to be seen. Effort was spent on making Madeleine look patriotic and not power-hungry, in making it clear to us that her father’s rejections left an impact on her. Even the story involving her attraction to Hana revolved more around HER, not around the woman she hurt. Was the same effort put into exploring Hana’s own struggle in court? In how she feels when people hurt her? In whether she is comfortable doing certain things? I think we all know the answer to that.

The key to why I hate Madeleine’s story so much isn’t that she’s a horrible person. You can be a horrible person and still have a compelling story. You can be a horrible person, and unapologetic about it, but still have the narrative validate what the people you had harmed went through.

It’s that the narrative and team knows and acknowledges her toxic behaviour, but only for a character that they like. They conveniently decided to cherry pick who would be comforted and given reassurance, and who would be forced to praise her bully for her ‘patriotism’. I should have been spending way less time on Madeleine’s redemption and coddling Penelope, and more time on making Hana feel safe in a largely alien place where she has no one but us - and where she is staying only for our protection. My problem is that they didn’t consider Hana’s pain important enough to even address, much less validate.