#and maybe he used to do it a lot and has the Broth Recipe down

[suckinitup]

mark winters is always most comfortable when he’s in a guardian/caretaker role. I think tide should get to see that. sickfic tidalwave from tide’s pov confuse that dilf with tenderness and shock that mark knows how to make soup. he asks mark why he’s taking care of him and mark says something like “who the fuck else is going to. shut up and eat your vegetables” and tide is reminded abruptly that mark is a dad who actually got to raise his kid from birth and feels jealous about it. wvery time he tries to get up mark just pushes him back down with one hand. wavelength wearing his supervillain mask all the time so he wont get sick too but tide in the throes of a fever has to deal with nemesis wavelength and his punchable battle face constantly bringing him tea and putting on movies so he has something to focus on while he rots. fuckin g imagine

[verilly]

On my knees for some post-Mithrun fluff rn.

POST MITHRUN FLUFF? I gotchu 😎 it’s going to be bullet points b t dubs, just so I can catch the right mind set… THANKSYU 4 THE REQUEST ILY <3

Mithrun x Reader

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

Right. So after canon he heads back to Melini (with you, of course) to scout out monsters and demons with his side hustle of making noodles! So as a noble yourself, you follow him to help achieve his dreams!

However, Mithrun is still ticked off at the part where reviving isn’t a plausible option after death, so he’s extremely careful with you. So much so that after a month or so with you trailing with him on his search for monsters, he tosses you in the noodle shop (with the land he had claimed with his noble blood).

At this point, he’s been so surrounded in his want for monster/demon blood that he hasn’t exactly made any progress with the noodle making… and well, neither have you. So there you sat, alone in a big restaurant, with no customers at all, no one to keep you company or to keep you entertained!

So that’s when you decide to try to cook noodles on your own!

You grabbed as many how to guide’s you could from books all over your country, which included recipes from the western territories all the way to the eastern islands! You even scrounged up some old tattered papers from the ex-canaries, Senshi, and the trash.

Collecting herbs, grains, and whatever monster-like ingredients Laios sent to you through the mail.

You decided to keep most of your habits a secret from Mithrun, or at least as you can from him because you wanted to be the one to teach him when the day comes he wanted to pursue his other desire. You always schedule your time practicing for when he's away, and Mithrun being the man that he is always has a set pattern on doing things. Meaning he always came back home almost at the exact same time everyday.

The only other times he'd come home at a later time is when he gets lost, for he has the time of his life navigating the city streets. (This is rare because he likes using his teleportation magic a lot more than actually walking.)

So on this very special day, once you've decided your skills are up to the test, you served him home made noodles. Not only were they home made, so was the sauce/broth. You were quite proud of making such a delicious meal, now it was time to share your talent with your lover.

"Mithrun, wake up, I have a very special breakfast to share with you!" You say, pushing him back and forth from his sleeping state. You'd waken up hours earlier to prepare for this momentous occasion.

No response.

Maybe you should have planned the scheduling better? This was earlier than usual for the ex-captain to wake up... No! You were his partner, he should wake up for you!

"Mithrun wake up!!!" You groan loudly, stopping all your movements before shoving your face into his blanketed stomach, "Please please please please!"

With no words to utter, Mithrun begrudgingly arose from the bed, sitting right up to face you. You beamed with excitement as he looked to face you.

"Why don't you join me down at the resturaunt floor? I have set up something quite amazing down there." You put a finger to your chin and smile, "Plus I think you'll like it a lot!!"

Down the steps the two of you went, where in arrival was the bowl of noodles you had prepared only minutes before. They were served with scallions, mushrooms, a pantry load of seasonings, and whatever meat you had bought fresh from the market a day before.

"What is this?"

"It's noodles! That I made.. for you... 'cause you said you wanted to make them yourself and.... I can see where I messed up a little, but I did it so that I can help you in the future! When you wish to fufill your desire of noodle making!!!" You sheepishly say, a much smaller smile creeping up on your lips.

"I never said you messed up." He said smoothly, teleporting away from you and into the seat in front of the food. You follow closely behind him, sitting at the seat next to him.

"Go on, take a bite! It'll be all for nothing if we run out of time and you need to go out monster hunting." You tilt your head to the right, clasping your hands together.

He looks down at the meal in front of him, and his good eye flickers up and down between you and the noodles. After a few seconds past he picked up the nice utensils you placed next to the bowl and took his first bite.

"So how does it taste? Do you like it??!"

"I don't feel anything in particular for it." He murmurs calmly.

"Ah." Your world view shatters for a moment, before sucking in your pride, "So what makes you feel that way? I thought it was really good, but our tastes are quite different from each other..."

"It's a little too flavorful for me, but I'm... grateful that you spent so much time perfecting this for me. How long was it? A few months?"

"What!!? How did you know that I was..."

"You can't hide things from me, [name]. You'll never be able to succeed."

You stare at him for a second before collapsing on the table before you, "Arghh! I totally thought everything was going to go great, but as it turns out... Mithrun is just too good for me." You pull the bowl towards you, taking the utensils from Mithrun's hand, "And if you don't like it then you don't need to eat it."

"It's not my taste, but I don't mind. Please, I'd rather not leave any left overs, especially if it's a meal from you." His face seemed to soften as he said those few words, and your face reddened in response, letting out an "oh" as you correct your posture.

"Well then if you have time off anytime soon, you could stay here and I could teach you how to make your own noodles that suit your own taste. Then we could actually open the resturaunt to the people." You say sweetly, looking down at the food, watching it dissapear by each passing minute, "I'm sure every being here in Melini would love to eat food made by the hands of a noble. Maybe even the Canaries can home, I'm sure they'd enjoy a meal made by their captain."

"Mm... I'll stay here for today. My desire's growing after eating this d- uhm. Delicious meal you made for me." He states simply, putting the empty bowl and utensils to the side.

"Alright then." You get up from the seat next to him and take his hand, "I'll teach you everything I know." Another smile perks up on your lips as you pull him to the kitchen.

Mithrun in a kitchen. Who could've guessed?!

He's not very skilled at cutting, buthis use of magic fills in the void quite perfectly.

You help him a lot, which includes taking his hands in yours when he begrudgingly uses the knife.

He likes your touches but not the “weapon” in his hands.

You also teach him to pound the noodles, which you usually put lots of energy into, but for him not so much. You have to fill in for him most of the time.

There will come a day where Mithrun won’t go out on expeditions and instead stays with you in the restaurant, for a long time.

And to him, he wouldn’t want to spend his last few (hundreds of) years any differently.

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

I tried to make it flufffy I don’t know if this is fluff

I hope you liked it :3 pls keep sending me stuff it’ll take like a day - ish for me to fill it out but I def will!!!!!!!

My masterlist is on profile :3

Lots of love, Yours truly.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I absolutely adore Tang River Water au!

I really like the idea that Tang accidentally drank water from this river and became pregnant just out of carelessness. It's too hilarious. An even funnier thing was that now their child is the rebirth of jade emperor. They can never have a break. Poor guys.

But for some reason it became very interesting to me what type of Tang will be during pregnancy? Will it be easy or will he be terribly emotional? Or something else, I would really look at it. I also think that he would really not like that when he tried to eat his husband's food, and then he started to feel sick just from the smell. He would definitely look at his stomach with anger and disappointment "you. traitor". And he would absolutely ask Pigsy to hold his belly in the later months of pregnancy.

I also really wonder how they would behave with their daughter. I know they love her, but I'm sure they're absolutely scared and DON't know what to do. I just want to know what they're planning to do. Will they overprotect her because she is the rebirth of the most powerful being in all of heaven? Or will they hide it? Maybe they will ask for help from heaven?

referencing.

Hehehe! I'm glad you like it!

Tang was just so thirsty after being in the desert (I believe is meant to be the Gobi) that he just leaps into the first water source he can find. Pigsy yells after him but Tang's already gulped down the yucky muddy stream water before Pigsy reminds him that there's a water purifier in the TEA. By then, the remnants of the Mother-Child River had already begun the process.

After his body adapts to the major magically-induced change, Tang ends up using his condition to get out of work/to get pampered on. Emotionally he's ok, just a little more worried than usual. And Pigsy is such an adoring spouse that Tang's symptoms rarely go unattended. Lots of cuddles and tummy rubs in the later months.

Ankles swell: "Oh Piggy~ My feet hurt." Morning Sickness: "I need tea and kisses!" Cravings: (Tang: "I require oranges, bao buns, ramune soda, takoyaki sauce-" Pigsy: "How about I leave you inside the Speedy Panda with 500 yuan and I close my eyes while you go shop?" Tang: "I love you so much piggy.") Smells: "MK you stink. Take a shower or I will literally barf." Painful Kicking: "Cuddle time." >:3

And if the *cicada* part of the Golden Cicada is acting up; he gets into carving/whittling - cicadas etch tree bark to lay their eggs. Pigsy now has many tables in the restaurant defaced with Tang's "masterpieces".

And I absolutely hit Tang with what (he believes) is the worst symptom on Earth; Food aversion. Specifically towards NOODLE SOUP. His husband's own cooking! He's distraught! Something about the combination of broth and noodles makes his stomach turn! Broth and noodles separate? Ok. Together? Instant morning sickness. He suspects its something to do with the texture of the noodles when their soggy.

Wukong: "Maybe your brain thinks its worms." Tang: *turns green and retches*

Pigsy goes out of his way to prepare dishes for Tang that don't set off his nausea, even if it means altering his traditional methods.

Pigsy: "Ok, I've been experimenting with a new dish for a while and I want your opinion." Tang, delighted: "Ooo hoho! You know I'll always be your taste tester, Piggy." Pigsy: *presents the elements of his noodle recipe* Tang: "Huh?" Pigsy: "You seemed really sad to not eat noodle soup, so I made a dry version so that you can still enjoy the flavours. The broth is on the side so you can drink it. The guy from the somen restaurant gave me some pointers." Tang, getting emotional: "You... you changed your recipe for me!?" Pigsy, grabbing Tang's hands: "Our family recipe, Tangy. That includes you and our little critic." Tang: *bursts out sobbing and shovels the dry noodle fixings into his mouth*

The baby - "Bao/宝/treasure or bundle" (also bao buns were one of Pigsy's cooking Tang could eat) - ultimately looks similar to a baby orc from Dungeon Meshi. A mostly chubby human baby with pig features. She has a puff of Tang's dark hair that becomes little black stripes on her back like a wild piglet.

What the baby takes after Pigsy in appearance, she takes from Tang in greediness. Before she's even off milk she'll try taking bites of other people's food. She's bold and confident, hilarious to anyone seeing a tiny piglet chasing Celestial soldiers like she's her own army.

And of course theres the issue of Bao being the reincarnation of one of the oldest and most powerful deities in taoism...

Pigsy and Tang are def the overprotective types, not so much for Bao being a powerful baby, but because every immortal seems to forget that she's still an uber-fragile preemie. Her health wasn't great when she was born (worsened by the circumstances around the birth). The freenoodles parents atleast have experience raising the little chaos monkey that was MK - the only difference being that Bao can't climb so good. Though she does seem to have control over the weather for some reason.

The Celestial Realm has to catch on quickly that she isn't the Jade Emperor anymore - she gets kidnapped atleast once by Heaven's officials needing the Emperor to approve paperwork. Bao screamed and grunted, rampaging around the imperial Palace the whole time.

The Queen Mother is saddened but adoring - her husband truly has passed on, but this little angel is a wonderful new beginning for him. She hopes to reunite in a later life.

Demons in general are pretty hopeful of Bao''s existance. Now that the Jade Emperor has been reborn on one of their kind - perhaps demonkind will be elevated once more? They'll have to wait until she's out of diapers before they start placing bets.

Princess Iron Fan's immediate reaction (after dealing with the shock of losing her estranged father) is to burst out; "HAH!" at the irony. Her father disapproved of her marriage to the Demon Bull King for his race - only to be reborn as a pig demon! The coincidence is hilarious! The Demon Bull fam does visit the baby girl to send their blessings, and offer advice based on how chaotic little Red was as a calf. Bao adores her giant uncle Bull since he's fluffy and big and smells like her baba when he cooks. She also gets super attached to Red Son for similar reasons - though Tang suspects it's because she smells grilled meat on him.

MK adores Bao, and will kill everything in the three Realms if anything happened to her. Bao in turn loves her big bro - even if she bites him and steals his food.

[sixofpomegranates]

➢ Eddie Munson hates fish. And Wayne tried to use fishing trips for them to bond.

{TW: Eating Fish, Fishing (& actually catching fish), Cooking, Vomit (Eddie, bc fish & he’s dramatic)}

Now, Eddie doesn't hate fish. He thinks they're funny—little stupid guys behind glass, swimming after his finger. Had an extensive shark phase as a little boy.

Eddie hates eating fish. He’d rather eat ANY AND EVERY vegetable on earth before eating fish.

He himself has no answer as to why, but his hatred for fish runs deep.

No allergies, just pure hatred, and disgust.

The smell is enough to make him gag. He becomes so violently sick that you get contact sick. Seriously, you have no chance of getting him to eat it. He’s already dry heaving from the look, smell, and thought alone.

And before you can say it, no, it doesn't matter how good you think this one fish dish you can make for him is. He won't eat it—Hell, he evacuates the area when he sees fish.

The only exception to fish is the tuna noodles his mom used to cook a lot when she was alive. It's two cans of tuna, milk or cream, spices (black pepper, salt, broth powder, garlic...maybe thyme), and pasta. It was very cheap to make, and one pot lasted for 2-3 days.

Eating it now unlocks childhood memories Eddie tries to hide away. If you try to make it and nail the recipe (one that only faintly exists in Eddie’s memory as his mom never wrote it down), you have him cry and eat fish at the same time... He’ll also may or may not attempt to marry you on the spot because you thought he was worth the effort. You do that, you're it for him.

Also, you have to cook it without him near. Opening the cans of tuna has him run for the hills. The smell is vile to him. And no, apparently once they're in the dish it doesn't count as fish anymore. (yeah, idk either)

➢ Fishing.

Wayne loves to fish and later prepares the “hunted” fish for dinner (as throwing them back in seems unnecessarily cruel). He tried taking Eddie with him on different occasions at different age stages. Tried to bond with his boy. ❤︎

Wayne doesn't force Eddie to eat fish. It's a boundary his nephew set and he respects it.

He also never forced Eddie to go on these bonding trips with him. Eddie came along because he wanted to spent time with his uncle.

The fishing trips are not actually for the fishing part. They are for Eddie to have a calm moment in nature. To talk about anything and everything that goes through his head (like when he came out to Wayne as bi). Tell Wayne about this new d&d thing the old man tries to but doesn't understand. Swap stories about his mom. To see that there are other activities to do with your dad than stealing a car. (they also listen to a bunch of country music on these trips)

There are two photos of their last fishing trip together in Wayne's photo album:

One is of Wayne holding a gigantic rainbow trout—what a catch!

The other is of Eddie holding a little bass—he caught it on accident. (He had never caught a fish before, having tampered with his hook before leaving for the trip.)

The seventeen-year-old boy smiles for his uncle, but there is pure agony in his eyes and a green tint plastered over his face.

He threw up a minute after the photo was taken.

Eddie swears to this day that his hands were slimy and smelled like fish for a week—They didn't.

He showered, and the smell was gone.

He's just being dramatic.

Ask Wayne, who loves telling the story.

More Eddie Munson Content? [Click for Mastlist]

More of me? Nice! [Click for my Main Masterlist]

Want to know my take on a Headcanon? Want to fangirl with me? Want to give feedback? [Click here]

Eddie Munson Taglist: @stardustmunson @eddiessidegirl

[lazilyhereandhazilyclear]

@thesadboisguidetolife tagged me to post my lockscreen, last song, last movie, and last photo (besides my lockscreen, i would imagine), so away we go

lockscreen:

this was made by Rob Sheridan, a graphic designer and glitch artist best known for his work for Nine Inch Nails.

last song:

two days after the release of Telefon Tel Aviv's album Immolate Yourself (one of my favorite albums), band member Charles Cooper died of an accidental overdose, leaving the future of the band uncertain. in the next eight years, the remaining band member Joshua Eustis was a touring member of Nine Inch Nails and worked a lot with Maynard James Keenan's project Puscifer, among other projects. this song is the first song where Eustis was able to return to Telefon Tel Aviv, and the transformative influence of the work he did in those intervening years is obvious to those familiar with earlier Telefon Tel Aviv. he has since released a really great album Dreams Are Not Enough (another favorite of mine). (and right now i'm listening to Around The Fur by Deftones.)

last movie:

seriously weird. i finished it thinking "what the fuck?" and ultimately, i really liked it. definitely not for everyone though . . .

last photo (besides my lockscreen):

sometimes i like to cook, and this bowl of soup i made (khao soi nam naa or khao soi lao) is a rabbit hole to explain. down we go

i only ever take pictures of the food i make, not food in restaurants - maybe if i went to one of those avant garde restaurants i might start - but anyway, a friend asked me what i was making, and i sent them this. i'm reeeaaalllyyy into Thai food, and this is probably the most complicated thing i ever make from scratch (i didn't make the noodles); it's a project with a lot of steps (done over several weeks) and because it's one of my favorite soups, i make large batches of some of its components to make it easier to assemble. this is variously called Khao Soi Nam Naa and Khao Soi Lao. (i found recipes for it, and all the data i'm about to spew, in cookbooks by Kris Yenbamroong, Andy Ricker, and James Syhabout.) in northern Thailand (and in the usa), Khao Soi usually refers to a northern Thai coconut curry noodle soup that's kinda getting well known in the usa, and you can sometimes find it in restaurants stateside, and definitely in restaurants that specialize in northern Thai food. this is not that. in Thailand this is "The Other Khao Soi". it's harder to find in northern Thailand, somewhat easier the closer you get to the borders of either Myanmar or Laos. it's a pork ragù noodle soup (no coconut milk included). the steps involved in making it begin with making a pork broth (the pork i used was subsequently repurposed to make sorta a green chili with some of the broth and a salsa verde i made). then i infused the broth with various southeast Asian aromatics (shallots, white pepper, lemongrass, ginger, cilantro, etc). then i made the ragù: called Nam Phrik Ong, which in Laos and Isaan province (northeastern Thailand) is a pork tomato dip served with vegetables, pork rinds and sticky rice. then the assembly, which is cook the noodles, and then garnish. here the garnishes are (left to right) beansprouts, cilantro, and fermented mustard greens. pickled mustard greens in China, and in packages you can buy, are pickled in vinegar, but in Laos, Thailand, Malaysia, and Myanmar (probably others), they are fermented. so, yes, i fermented the gai choy (Chinese mustard greens). it's one of my favorite pickled vegetables; it has both a wasabi-like burn from the mustard greens themselves, as well as some mild burn from the garlic and chilies i throw into the brine. so, because this is a favorite but also a project (multiple projects), i make the ragù and the pork broth and the mustard greens in large quantities so that all that i need to do is defrost the broth and the ragù and assemble it.

that was a lot.

ok, so, tagging people, i'm gonna ditto @stormesandshowersparttwo and @campcrow2 (i'll dig around to see if you already did this) as well as @adventures-in-mimesis, @angrypsychologist @shys-critter-cage @loyalist-vladdie @thenameren @hes-a-gayy but seriously no pressure (i always feel weird asking people anything remotely personal)

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 4

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.  

Full chapter 4 under the cut:

Chapter Four:

Each date has been something poetic and pulled straight from a movie or storybook. I can’t wait for each moment with Kade and he’s about all I think of. When I’m not at work, I’m either at his sister’s café or he’s at my apartment with me. It took no time at all for me to get used to all of his little quirks and I know we could live together with ease. He knows this too but I think he’s too worried about his sister’s reaction if he were to suggest moving in.

Then again, we haven’t exactly talked about it. Not directly at least.

I know Starla is protective over her little brother though she seems to have a soft spot for me as well. She almost always gives me something for free when I visit the café and she continues to urge Kade to see me.

On my side, there are no barriers. I am ready to accept Kade into my apartment at the drop of a hat. Already, I’ve begun to stock some of his favorite foods and a pack of travel sized toiletries lives in the bathroom for him to use when he stays the night. I have plenty of room in the closet for his clothes and, if he needs more, I’ll throw out whatever I need to.

It’s no problem for me.

I’ll do whatever it takes to make Kade happy.

At the moment, he’s occupying my couch and looking, frustrated, at his laptop. I know midterms are approaching and he’s been studying a lot more than usual for them. And the fast tapping on the keyboard tells me he’s probably working on an essay.

I watch his expression, unchanging, as he types with a fury. Whatever he’s writing about, he holds no love for it. It’s strictly obligation.

By the stiffness of his shoulders, I bet he’ll be sore later. He needs to relax. Take a break even. Though I suspect he’ll reject the advice until after he’s finished.

I cross my arms and wonder what I can do for him. I run through a mental list of options before settling on a rather cliché but effective strategy.

Food.

Since we started dating, I’ve been cooking a lot more frequently. I’ve gotten a lot better at it too and I’ve learned a few new recipes to appeal to my boyfriend’s specific tastes.

One of his favorite dishes of late is udon soup so I get to work on starting it. It’ll be a nice surprise—or so I hope—and it’ll get his eyes off of that laptop screen for a few minutes.  

As I’m chopping onions, I hear his sweet voice call out to me. “What’s a word that means destiny? Not fate but…”

I set the knife down and think. Not fate, I repeat mentally and try and fish for other synonyms. “Serendipity?” I try, shouting back over my shoulder.

“Ummm…I don’t think that’s what I’m looking for…”

I think more. “Kismet?”

“Definitely not.”

I laugh silently and to myself while returning to the onions. My mind is dried up and I shrug though I doubt he’s looking at me. “I’ve got nothing left, Kade. Sorry.”

A pause forms between us and I focus on the food. I have the stock ready so I just need to add the noodles and it shouldn’t take too much longer. There are some fishcakes I can add as well as eggs to poach in the broth (Kade’s favorite part) but, other than that, there won’t be any more bells and whistles. I hope it’s satisfactory.

Then I hear him again, mumbling this time. “Maybe it was serendipity.”

A smile settles on my face as I ask, “Writing about us?”

He laughs. “No.”

I knew the answer already, of course, but I do think we fit the criteria of serendipity. Everything about our meeting feels predestined and I can’t imagine a scenario where we didn’t meet eventually. If not on that rainy Thursday then some other time, in some other way.

And we’d be right here, no matter what.

There is something immensely comforting about that thought.

I prepare drinks as the eggs poach and I set the table quietly and without detection. He must be in the final throes of his paper with how concentrated he appears. It’s quite endearing, really, and I keep getting distracted by his serious face.

With the bowls on the table, I clear my throat. When that doesn’t work, I walk closer. “Got a minute?” I ask, casting my shadow over him.

Kade snaps up to meet my eyes, clearly surprised to see me so close. “Oh…what’s up?” His work mode is very intense and, while I do find him cute no matter what, I feel slightly neglected when I’m not the center of his attention.

To be fair, I did warn him of my jealousy.

“I made your favorite,” I say, hoping to ignite some spark of life back into him.

And, to my sheer delight, Kade sits up and closes his laptop in a flash. “Udon?!”

I nod and do nothing to hold back my smile. To see him so excited for my cooking makes all the hard work and preparation worth it. I can see myself doing this every day until our golden years—never growing bored of the same old same old.

Kade hurries to the table and I pull out his chair for him, pushing him in once he’s sat. I then take my spot across from him and watch eagerly as he takes his first bite.

“So good,” he says as soon as he can. “I needed this.”

“I know,” I respond and bask in the feelings of pride and joy. “After dinner and after you’re done with your paper, I can give you a massage. I noticed how tense your shoulders are while you write.”

Kade’s spoon stops halfway to his mouth and his brows turn up, suggesting he might cry at any second. Despite his proclamation that he’s overly emotional, I have yet to see him shed a tear aside the time we watched a particularly sad movie together.

“You’d do that?” he asks with a tremor in his voice.

“Of course.” It’s no big deal for me—not just because I am glad to do whatever Kade needs but a massage is also a great excuse to touch him. And the sounds he makes when he’s really enjoying a rubdown aren’t bad either.

Kade smiles and drops his spoon back into the soup. “You’re so sweet, Mel. What did I do to deserve you?”

“That’s my line—I’ve got to do what I can to keep up and earn my spot beside you.” And I mean it. Kade’s mere presence is like the sun to me. Without enough of him in the day, I grow weary and depressed. I can’t imagine life without him now that I know what it’s like with him in it.

He blushes and looks down to his dinner. “…You’ve already earned it, you know? You don’t have to do anything special.”

I shake my head. “I want to then.”

Kade and I finish our dinner, sharing fleeting glances that are full of unspoken emotion and a lingering intent. I feed off it and can’t wait until he’s done with his school work so we can get a little closer. There is a magnetism between us and I don’t know if I can resist it for much longer.

I leave the dishes to soak in the sink and stand behind the couch as Kade types for his life. He is going a mile a minute but I can sense the antsy energy around him as he’s just as eager to spend time with me as I am with him.

As he’s finishing, I reach down and clamp my hands around his shoulders, forcing them down and more relaxed. I can feel the muscles straining under my touch and I worry about the long term damage he’s doing to himself by stressing so much.

Eventually, I do manage to get him to loosen up some and I push along the natural lines of the muscles and pull a long, appreciative moan from my boyfriend. I smile and focus on that same spot, pushing again and again to try and elicit the same response.

Kade flips his laptop closed and sets it aside on the coffee table. “Done,” he breathes and leans away from me but only to turn on the couch, giving me an open invitation to join him.

I sit beside him and he turns away from me, clearly still interested in the massage. It’s fair as I was only able to reach his shoulders from my post behind the couch. So, I dig into his back, mapping out the locked in stress and pushing it out, one swipe at a time.

He lets out sighs and moans with each movement and I can’t help the direction my mind travels in. Since we started dating, we have done little more than kiss and hold one another. It’s still early, I know, and obviously if Kade doesn’t want to then we won’t but…

Perhaps now is the time to mention it. The idea of saying something so serious is daunting, however, and I’m not sure I can bring myself to. So far, Kade has been the one mostly leading the relationship. All I’ve done is ask him out in the first place.

My hands rise back to his shoulders, squeezing and pressing. They dip forward, sliding against his collar bone and the tops of his pecs. There is far more tension there than I anticipated and I pull him back, closer toward me.

Kade’s back meets my front and he limply lies against me as I drive my fingers along the long neglected muscles. I can tell it feels good as he leans his head back onto my shoulder and lets out a long, breathy sigh. His adams apple bobs and my eyes stick on it while my hands operate with a mind of their own.

I don’t even realize what I’m doing until Kade’s brow pinches together and his lips part, a gasp passing through them. “Mel,” he moans and squirms against me.

My eyes have to be forcefully peeled away but I need to know what my hand is up to. I look, in shock, at the placement of my fingers on Kade’s chest. I really hadn’t meant to but I am circling a most sensitive area and it is clearly affecting my boyfriend quite a bit.

“I should have asked,” I say on reflex and as a belated apology.

Kade’s breath is shaking but he grasps my hand with his own and opens his eyes to meet mine in a heavy and mesmerizing gaze. “Ask me now.”

I can ask more than just this, I think and gulp in turn. It could break our perfect relationship but it could also enhance it if Kade is on the same wavelength as me. So long as we move in step with each other and retain this beautiful, domestic purity, I can only see us falling further into bliss.

“Can I touch you?” I ask and wait for his response. When he nods, I return my fingers to that spot, over his shirt, and rub against it with more intent than before.

Kade instantly moans and throws his head back against me, as if it’s the most pleasure he’s ever experienced. If our beginning is this intense, I fear more but I also crave it.

“Can I do more than just kiss you?” I boldly follow up before I capture his lips with mine. There is less precision and more wetness than usual. The smacks of our lips echo in the room and it sends a spike of desire through my being.

“Yes,” Kade answers with a husky voice I can certainly get used to.

We return to our kiss, imperfect and passionate and my hand travels from his chest to his stomach. I nearly stop as nerves seize me but with some prodding from Kade, I am able to breach one of our major barriers. My fingers slip under his pants and caress the soft, supple skin that has, until now, been forbidden to me.

Each new inch is beloved and I lose myself in the sensation. What more could Kade show me? What more newness can he make me experience?

I can’t believe this is real.

He begins to breathe heavier, my touches sending him to cloud nine, and I keep my eyes on his face. Those small changes in his expression are all new to me and I drink them each in greedily. I want to be the only one to see this face—to see these vulnerable moments.

I hold him closer as I bring him to the edge of paradise but the moment can’t last forever. He lets out one last moan and his body sinks and grows heavy. I want to repeat the process again but I allow him rest as I know he needs it.

Instead, I pepper his face with kisses and wait for him to rejoin me on earth.

“Mel…” he speaks my name as if I am the only person in the world he needs.

“Yes?” I cradle him in my arms, wanting nothing more than to stay here for an eternity.

“I love you.” His words are deep enough but, combined with the piercing look he shoots my way, I am completely captured in his spell. He could ask anything of me and I would oblige in this moment.

I say the only thing I can think and the only thing that makes sense to reply with, “I love you too, Kade.”

We kiss and it’s so similar to our last kiss that I wonder if we’ll repeat the fit of passion all over again. He pulls back some and takes some more, longer breaths and I give him the space to do it.

As I watch him, unblinking, I have another powerful thought that I can’t keep locked away. “Move in with me?”

His blue-green eyes widen and he looks to me in shock. “You mean it…?”

“Yes,” I answer before he’s even finished. I can’t wait. I can’t stand not having him around every second. I can’t stand not sleeping next to him every night any longer.

Kade’s eyes become even brighter somehow. “I’d love to.”

We hold each other and kiss once more and this time I don’t think we’ll stop.

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 5: An Old Friend

Warnings: this one is mostly fluff, so I don’t think there are any warnings. Maybe references to past trauma? If I’m missing one please lmk!

Author’s Note: Chapter 5!! Enjoy!!

(gif gotten from javierian)

After the little…. predicament with the last mission…. you couldn’t deny that you had gotten closer with the anonymous man you had been living with.

You made pleasant conversation, never too deep, but you felt more comfortable in his company. You had felt the same way with Peli… but this was different.

Your heart rate would increase whenever he would talk to you, and your mood would increase as well. You were excited to get to know him! This man who had taken you in knowing absolutely nothing about you. The least you could do was make him feel comfortable around you, and that didn’t even feel like enough.

It made you happy when he would ask you questions, like “did you enjoy the dinner last night” or “how did you sleep.”

It felt good to have someone be curious and care about you in your present state, not just your past or your abilities. And you loved to ask him questions too.

If you were lucky, he would tell you a story about an old job he did, and those were the best. It was like getting little pieces to a much larger, beautiful puzzle. A puzzle you prayed you would see finished by the end of your time with him.

The best interaction you had, by far, was when he finally ate with you.

It had been a nice day. You guys had stopped for supplies and it felt good to stretch your legs a little bit.

You found a great little food stand that had fresh meat and vegetables, and you knew you could make a delicious meal out of it. You shared your excitement with Mando, who nodded and helped you carry the supplies back to the crest.

Once you made it back and put all the supplies down in the incredibly tiny kitchen, you went to work.

You used amazing spices that you hadn’t tasted in weeks on the meat, and made sure to brown the vegetables in the same pan you used for the meat. That way they would soak up the amazing rendered flavors that the meat left over. After that, you put it all together in a pot and poured savory chicken broth in to mix the flavors.

Your stomach was grumbling at the smell alone.

The kid was hungry too, you could tell by the way he stared at you while you worked, so you made sure to save a hefty serving for him when you poured the meal into serving bowls.

You gave the little guy his serving and set yours right next to his on the dining table. You then carried Mando’s serving to the cockpit to give it to him.

You had an idea…. and you hated how you got your hopes up that he would agree.

You stood behind the pilot’s chair for a moment, until you finally took a deep breath and said, “Dinner is ready.”

Mando spun around in his chair and took the bowl from you.

“This smells amazing. Thank you,” he said and got up to walk to his room. He always ate in there because of his creed, and you felt a pull on your heartstrings every time you would think about him eating all alone. You wanted him with you and the kid. You felt full when you three were together, and Mando eating alone felt like you were leaving him out. You knew what that felt like, and you never wanted to inflict it on others.

This was it. This was the moment.

“Wait,” you said, and he turned back around to you, still holding the bowl in his hands.

Every time he looked at you straight on you felt your nerves creep up your spine and your hands become fidgety. You felt cheesy and stupid. This man was basically your roommate, not some partner you needed to impress.

But why does it feel that way?

“I uh… I was thinking that maybe.. we could figure out a way to eat together? I feel bad that you have to eat alone in your room, so maybe I could.. I don’t know.. turn around? And get the kid to do that as well? If you aren’t comfortable with that I totally get it, I just.. feel really bad that you don’t have anyone to eat with,” you say.

Of course he will say no. Why would he trust someone to just “turn around?” As if they wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse?

Your hopes were sinking every moment he stood in silence, and you weren’t liking your chances.

He looked down at his bowl and then back up at you, and these were the moments you wished he wasn’t so good at hiding his emotions. You wanted to see and feel what he was thinking, but he was impenetrable. He was like a stone wall, and you hated it.

He sighed, obviously thinking about what you said, and you just waited. You didn’t want to pressure him anymore. He can make his own decisions, and you can deal with them.

“If I do that,” he says, “you have to swear to me… you won’t turn around. And you won’t let the kid turn either.”

Your eyes widened.

It worked, you think. How the hell did that work?

“I swear Mando. I will not turn around on any circumstance, and I will do everything in my power to keep the kid at bay. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, I will eat with him away from you just to be safe. I promise,” you say and he nods.

“Ok,” he mumbles, and you smile at him. A genuine smile. A smile that says all the things you wish you could say, but are too afraid.

You hoped he wasn’t as good at reading people as you were.

“Ok. Let’s go,” you say and he follows you back to the table.

“Ok kid. You’ve gotta turn around for me ok,” you say to the kid and he babbles something incoherent.

“Thank you for the compliment on the food. I’ve known that recipe for a while,” you say with a giggle while turning his chair around.

You turn yours around as well and grab your bowl to set on your lap.

You and the child are now facing away from Mando, eating your dinner, and you couldn’t be happier.

Your belly slowly becoming more full calms your excitement, until you hear a small hiss and the sound of metal scratching the floor.

It’s off. Mando’s helmet is off.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

He did it. He really trusts me to do this.

You hear the sounds of him eating the soup and you swear this couldn’t get any better.

You go back to eating with a huge grin on your face, and you keep the child in your peripheral vision to make sure he doesn’t turn either.

You had connected with him through the force a couple of times since your first meeting. You had gotten better at reading the little one, and you could see just a faint look of understanding in his body language.

He didn’t waver. He didn’t squirm. He just ate as still as he could, and you were so grateful.

Seriously? This was all it took for the kid to behave, you wondered to yourself

Mando mumbling, “This is really good,” shatters through your thoughts like ice.

Mando’s voice. His true voice, just hit your ears for the first time ever, and you wanted it burned into your brain forever. You never wanted to hear anything different.

It wasn’t just the sound of it, but the feeling. You could hear the gratitude in his voice and it sent chills down your arms.

It was him. His voice. Something no one could ever replicate. It was truly his own.

“Thank you,” you say and take another sip of your soup. Your appetite has basically vanished at this point, and your ears just yearn to hear more.

“I think the kid is enjoying himself,” you say, and you pray you get Mando’s rarest gem of all in its rawest form.

And you do.

He gives a soft chuckle of a laugh. “Yeah, I think so too,” he says and takes another bite.

If you dropped dead right now, you would die a happy woman.

How do you even iterate what that felt like? What it felt like to hear this big, scary, metallic man give off something so vulnerable to you.

Had other people heard this at all? Maybe not even since he was a child?

Your hands started to shake from the endorphins and you finished your bowl. You took the kid’s bowl as well and placed it inside your own and just sat. Just soaked in this happy moment that you never wanted to end.

If only you knew how big of a smile Mando had on his face behind you.

~~*~~

A few days pass and the energy on the ship is the best it’s ever been.

You had eaten dinner together every day since then, and you wondered how something so simple could make you so….happy.

Mando was at his pilot’s chair (as usual) and he called for you to come to the cockpit.

Luckily it was pretty late, so the kid was passed out.

You made your way to the cockpit and saw that Mando had an image broadcasting from the ship’s holoprojecter. The image was of a man with a darker skin tone and flecks of grey in his hair. He looked like he had been through a lot, as his clothes were slightly tattered and ripped.

“I’d like you to hear this,” Mando said before pressing play.

The man in the image proceeded to explain how ranks of ex- imperial guards were ruling over his city and they needed Mando’s help to take them down. He proposed that Mando return to Nevaro and bring the child as bait, and once they got near the client, Mando would kill him.

The man said that if Mando succeeded, he would have his name cleared in the Guild and he can keep the child.

The clip ended and Mando turned to face you.

“What do you think,” he asked, and you looked to the floor with knit eyebrows, thinking.

“Bringing the child as bait is incredibly risky, but if you trust that man, I don’t see a problem with it. You can take down ex- Imperial guards no problem,” you say, and he nods.

“I’m just confused how you even know that man,” you say.

“He’s… an old friend,” Mando says, and you don’t like the sound of that.

“We kinda got off on the wrong foot last time we talked,” he said, and you nodded.

“So… he is saying you get to keep the child if you succeed, but we have had him this whole time?”

“There’s something you need to know,” he says, and he goes to explain how he really got the child, and how he has been being hunted by the Empire this whole time.

Throughout the explanation, you listen intently, nodding and keeping eye contact with Mando.

You would think that the fact that the Empire had been on your tracks the whole time would scare you, but it doesn’t.

It fuels you. You three were pissing the Empire off, and there was nothing you liked doing more.

You felt powerful. Unstoppable. For once you were making them mad, not the other way around. And you liked it.

You are not angry at Mando, not even a little. You feel relieved.

This perfect man who had given you nothing but happiness….wasn’t perfect. You had so many demons, and you found someone who did too. Someone who did something bad for the right reasons. You found a good person, who did the right thing because it was right. He had a good heart rather than an ego, and he let you in on something so precious to him. This child.

And you were not gonna let the galaxy rip him away.

Once he finished, you took a deep breath. You looked at him and smiled.

“You know…I am pretty relieved Mando,” you say, and he cocked his head to the side slightly in confusion.

“I thought you looked like that under the helmet,” you say, gesturing with your head to the sleeping green creature behind you, and you laugh.

Mando’s shoulders relax, and his grip on the arm rests of the pilot’s chair softens.

“Seriously Mando, it’s ok. You did the right thing. 99% of people would have just dumped the kid and left. I am proud of you. I am proud to be on this mission,” you say.

“If saving a baby from the Empire gets me arrested, then by all means let them arrest me.”

Mando’s shoulders shake a little. It probably felt incredible to get this off his chest. He had been keeping this from you for a while.

I wonder if eating with me helped him trust me more?

“Ok,” he breathes out of his helmet. “Good. I was hoping you’d stay.”

“Oh I’m staying alright,” you say and he gives a breathy laugh.

“But this is your decision Mando. I am up for going or staying. I know you understand there are risks in both options,” you say, referring to the offer the man on the recording had given you earlier.

“Whatever you want to do. I trust you,” you say and his head snaps back to make eye contact with you.

You give him a weak smile, and allow what you said to sink through his beskar and into his skin.

I. Trust. You.

After a moment, he turns back to his controls and stares into space.

If you’re being honest, you have no idea what you would choose. If you don’t go, the kid will keep being hunted and at risk. If you do go, that man could betray you and get you all killed.

Mando is in deep thought, as are you, and you jump a little when he starts punching coordinates into the controls.

“Sorgan? Why Sorgan?” you ask.

He turns to face back to you, and you can only imagine the cocky smirk he has on his face.

“An old friend.”

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary

[skellebonez]

Writing prompt 78: it’s night in and pigsy has had a hard day at work so Tang planned a small dinner to help him relax. Plus some romantic words.

I had a MIGHTY NEED for some FreeNoodles fluff and your request helped me deliver that so well!

If I had three wishes, I’d spend all of them to make you smile.

Tang glared at the steamer basket and willed it to work faster. To steam better. To make the food he was preparing taste perfect! Unfortunately for Tang he was a human through and through and had little to no say in the matters of whether or not steam cooked through dumplings once they were in the basket and out of his direct eyesight.

... Unless he- no! No he remembered the last time he tried to mess with a recipe! As long as he used a recipe the first time he had no real issues, but it was when he tried to deviant from one the first time that he always had problems. Like last time.

Pigsy was finding bits of exploded fruit for a week.

It would have turned out really good, if he hadn’t turned the stove on too high and used too much oil.

But that wouldn't happen tonight! Not if he managed to follow all the directions and take everything to the table when he was certain it was all ready.

His husband had already tried to enter the kitchen multiple times, insisting that Tang didn’t need to take on all of dinner on his own (”I can help, I’m not that tired” and all that). But the scholar would not let him do that, not tonight.

Pigsy’s Noodles had been horrifically busy that day due to a power outage on a large portion on the other side of the city that hit not only residential areas but also a few other popular restaurants. Everything had been fixed soon enough, but the usual lunch rush was even worse than usual and lasted almost into the early dinner orders. Anyone that wanted food had to either eat things they didn’t have to cook or order out, and low and behold most people thought ordering out was the far superior option.

Which meant that Pigsy was cooking literally all day. Normally he would have a short break, time to let broth simmer and relax for a conversation or to even read a news article or two. Maybe watch something on the TV while he cooked.

But not this day. He never had the chance to even sit down, not over the 5 hour period with no power.

And then the dinner rush hit, not as bad as the excessive lunch rush but just as hectic as always, and until nearly closing both he and MK were going and going and going. At least MK had the chance to sit in his tuk-tuk, resting his feet even a little bit while he was under the same stress as his boss.

Poor Pigsy didn’t even have the chance to sit on one of his own stools until well into the night.

It was by MK’s own insistence that Pigsy head home for the day and let the young man finish closing up on the shop. It wouldn't have been the first time he had done it, and with his own apartment above the store he would have a much faster and easier time getting home as opposed to the 15 minute walk that was ahead of Pigsy and Tang.

And as a testament to just how exhausted he was, Pigsy took that offer with only a little hesitation. Far less hesitation than letting Tang cook their dinner for the two of them, in fact.

Once they arrived home Tang took the initiative, guiding his husband to their couch and immediately setting to work on showing him exactly what he had been teaching himself in secret.

Tang knew that cooking was so important to Pigsy. It was one of the main ways he showed how much he cared for others, how he bonded with MK over the years by teaching MK his secret recipes, how he had shown Tang how welcome he was in his home when Tang had to leave his old home years ago. How he showed Tang how much he wanted him to stay, despite how much he played up that being a “freeloader” was aggravating him (it was a little game they played in actuality, Pigsy never once actually banning him from the store or from getting more food despite the amount that Tang ate free of charge).

And Tang wanted to return that show of affection tonight.

He supposed that was one of the ways he showed affection as well, not only the act of showing how much he enjoyed something others gave him but trying to learn what he could to be included in the future.

And teasing. So much teasing.

Pigsy returned that himself.

The dinging of the timer on the counter startled Tang from his musings and he jumped up in excitement. Finally, everything was finished!

It took a little willpower on his part not to rush through getting the food set out and not burn his hands, but Tang managed it anyway.

Tang was still learning to cook properly, years of quick meals and living alone and being busy with both his education and later scholarly pursuits making his past endeavors lackluster to most people. But he was a fast learner and he started out knowing how to cook most of the basics by heart.

What laid before him on the table was simple, probably very simple to a lot of people... but impressive by his standards. Large perfectly fluffy bowls of rice, a small bowl each of a seafood soup, stir fried vegetables, and dim sum. And all his practice had paid off for those, they looked almost as good as the ones he would by from the street vendors!

He took a moment to just. Look at what he had made. Take in his accomplishments. Be happy with his progress and excited for what Pigsy would think. He didn’t have to wait very long.

“That smells amazing,” Pigsy said from the entry to the kitchen, tired smile etched on his face as he made his way to the table. “It looks just as good too. You really didn’t have to do this yourself, Tang, but I gotta admit I appreciate being able to get excited for someone else’s food again.”

Tang smiled wide, chuckling a bit at the statement. “Well, with how busy you were today you deserve to relax.”

Pigsy hummed in agreement as he sat down, smiling up at Tang in a little confusion as he moved up to stand beside him instead of joining him across the table.

Tang leaned down, taking Pigsy’s chin in his hand and lifting his head up to guide his lips into meeting his own on a soft kiss. He couldn’t help but smile into it, pulling away with a snort of a chuckle and a blush on his face.

“Even after being married all this time you still laugh like that when we kiss,” Pigsy said with a goofy smile of his own, face flushing darker.

“And you still blush like that every time,” Tang replied, sitting across from him with a wider smile. “I’ll never get tired of seeing that.”

“Damn we are sappy,” Pigsy said with a chuckle, shaking his head and smiling wide.

“And you know we both love it!”

The two laughed, digging into their meal with gusto and excitement. And it was amazing. Tang wouldn’t put it on the same level as Pigsy’s, to him nothing would ever match his husband’s cooking, but the soft smiles and the way the other closed his eyes and let the bites he took linger as he seemed to savor the flavors.

And everything was the best at this moment to Tang. Better than it had been in a long while. Just sitting there, enjoying a simple but well made meal with his beloved. Watching him enjoy cooking that wasn’t his own and looking so content and happy and smiling in a way that just made him look so... amazing.

“You know that movie MK had us watch the other day?” He asked suddenly, drawing Pigsy’s attention to him. “The animated musical one?”

“Yeah?”

“If I had three wishes I’d spend all of them to make you smile.”

Pigsy looked at him for a moment before he chuckled, blush taking over his face once again as he buried half of his face into one of his hands.

“Sappy dork.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah... I do love you, Tang.”

“I love you too, Pigsy.”

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Togata Mirio & (A) Midoriya Izuku x (O) Reader Broken Bones and Notebooks

Word count: 3417

Warnings: None. 

ABO (A) Togata Mirio & (A) Midoriya Izuku x (O) Reader Broken Bones and Notebooks

Summary: Mirio finds himself in a hospital. Both Izuku and him start falling for the Omega doctor that takes care of him.

(Full credit to the gifs owner) 

🌻🥦-Izuku had gotten a call while at his agency that his mate was at the hospital. He dropped everything he was doing and rushed over. How did this happen? His mate’s quirk was built to evade attacks so why was his Alpha laying in a hospital bed sporting multiple casts and bandages? 

🌻🥦-His mate was still waiting for a private room to clear up so he was put in the ER. Izu wasted no time tearing open his mate’s curtain and rushing to his side. 

🌻🥦-“Mirio! What happened?” He cried, trying to give his mate a comforting hug without injuring him any further. 

🌻🥦-“It’s nothing, Zuku. I just got a little beat up is all.” The blond tried to smile despite how much pain his body was in. 

🌻🥦-At that moment the curtain pulled back once again. You walked in with a tray of food, wearing a white coat. A happy smile on your face present. You set the tray down on the removable table and put your hands on your hips. 

🌻🥦-“Hello, I’m Dr.L/N, I will be the one taking care of you until you are fit to go back home. I assume you are his mate?” You asked, turning towards the slightly distressed, green-haired Alpha. 

🌻🥦-Izuku blinked back his teary eyes and nodded. 

🌻🥦-“Yes, I’m his mate. Can you tell me how long he will be staying here? Are his injuries really severe?” Izuku frantically asked, worried how long he would have to be away from his mate at night. The thought of going home to a cold bed was already unsettling to him.

🌻🥦-“It seems he has three cracked ribs, a broken leg, a broken arm along with a few fingers. He suffered a blow to the head but his scans came back normal so we are not too worried about that.” You informed, looking at his chart that you plucked from the end of his bed. 

🌻🥦-“Usually he would have to stay here for a few months in order to fully recover but since I am taking over you should be out within three weeks or so.” You hummed, eyeing his X-rays. 

🌻🥦-Mirio beamed at his mate from behind all of his bandages. “See babe! I will be out here in no time.” 

🌻🥦-Izuku leaned down to kiss his mates bruised cheek before turning back to you with a curious look. 

🌻🥦-“How come he is going to recover faster than normal?” He questioned, smoothing a hand down his mate’s encased shoulder. 

🌻🥦-“My quirk of course! I am only assigned to pro-heroes most of the time. Since your mate fits the bill, I am here to help him have a speedy recovery.” You beamed moving the tray of food on the mobile table closer to the pair. 

🌻🥦-“My quirk is unique. It allows me to heal a person by feeding them the food I make. It takes a little time since the food has to digest and distribute my healing nutrients all around your body. Since you have so many injuries it will take a while but you will get there.” You revealed a small bowl of chicken broth. 

🌻🥦-You had made it yourself this morning. Your quirk wouldn’t work if you didn’t make the food within twenty-four hours. So freezing your meals and giving them out to patients wouldn’t work. 

🌻🥦-You were assigned to pro heroes because of this. The higher-ups thought it would be best to focus all your efforts on recovering pro heroes rather than handling multiple civilian patients. 

🌻🥦-“This is it? Just chicken broth?” Mirio slightly whined, his Alpha pouting at the lack of meat. 

🌻🥦-“If you can keep this chicken broth down till tomorrow evening I will see what I can do about getting you some real food for dinner.” You grinned, trying not to snicker at his pouting face. 

🌻🥦-These men might be pro heroes and Alpha’s but despite their intimidating status you Omega didn’t mind their presence at all. It was like she was standing around with an old pair of friends. 

🌻🥦-Maybe it was their calming scents. The blond had a warm scent that reminded you of sun rays reflecting off the ocean. The green-haired Alpha gave off a scent of wet soil and sweet sage. 

🌻🥦-“Thank you so much, Doctor. I’ll be sure to watch him so he doesn’t gulp it down in one swallow. His stomach is an endless pit.” The freckled Alpha lovingly looked down at his battered mate. 

🌻🥦-His Alpha felt a little calmer than when he walked in for some reason but he just assumed it was because he knew his mate was in good hands. It had nothing to do with the sweet scent of fresh bread and ripe fruit coming from the smiling doctor. 

🌻🥦-He brushed it off. His Alpha was just happy his ray of sunshine was okay. 

***

🌻🥦-A few days had passed and Mirio was already looking a little better. The first thing your quirk healed was his head. He was even more bright and smiley now that his headaches were gone. 

🌻🥦-He had proven that he could hold down liquids so he was approved for solid foods. You were sure his Alpha was very excited about the news. 

🌻🥦-You knocked before walking into his room, he had been upgraded to a private room and moved out of the ER. Izuku was sat at his mate’s side writing away in his notebook. You walked in with two trays and a happy smile. 

🌻🥦-“Hello, good morning!” You hummed, setting down the two trays on in front of Miro and Izuku. 

🌻🥦-“Hey, Y/N!” Mirio beamed, sending you a dazzling smile. 

🌻🥦-“Morning, Y/N,” Izuku replied softly not quite looking you in the eye, still not used to talking to females even though he has been a pro hero for years now. 

🌻🥦-“I brought you some pancakes and bacon. There is enough for you too Izuku.” You hummed revealing two plates to feed the Alphas. The tray was nearly overflowing with food but Alphas had big appetites so you knew they would clean the plates no problem. 

🌻🥦-“O-oh you don’t have to do that Y/N. I am sure another patient needs it more than I do.” He blushed, refusing the food. 

🌻🥦-“Nonsense. I know that the new mission you went on took a lot out of you. Plus I have seen you favoring your right hand. I hope you didn’t strain it too much.” You said, giving him a knowing look. 

🌻🥦-He flushed and pulled the food closer to him without further complaint. 

🌻🥦-“How did you get him to do that Y/N? Usually, I have to force him to rest and recover after a mission.” Mirio said, amazed you got his Alpha to comply so easily. 

🌻🥦-“An Omega secret.” You winked, smiling at the two before leaving. 

🌻🥦-Both Alpha’s left in a daze while they ate their breakfast. 

***

🌻🥦-“Come on! We have been looking for an Omega even before the accident. We want an Omega to complete us and she could be the one. Why not ask her out and see how it goes?” Mirio asked, his blue eyes shifting around trying to meet his lover’s emerald eyes. 

🌻🥦-“She is just nice to us because it’s her job. We have no reason to believe she will actually be interested in us once you are out of the hospital.” Izuku let out a small huff, his Alpha was telling him to pursue the Omega doctor but his self-doubt and nervousness were taking over.   

🌻🥦-Izuku’s eyes shifted all over his notebooks page, trying to distract himself from the conversation and the warm flush creeping up his face. 

🌻🥦-“We don’t know until we try. We don’t have to ask her now but just think about it, will you? This near-death experience really made me realize that I want to pursue everything my heart desires. I want to come home to my Alpha and my Omega. Maybe a few pups as well.” Mirio grinned, picturing the sweet scene in his head. 

🌻🥦-His Alpha was already bouncing with joy at the idea. He was already picturing your eyes looking up at him after a long day. 

🌻🥦-They had been on a few courting dates in search of a third partner but they all had ended with neither Alpha satisfied. His Alpha was telling him you were their missing piece. 

🌻🥦-“I’ll think about it, Alpha. We shouldn’t rush things though. You still need to recover. No Omega is gonna want to go on courting dates with us if I have to wheel you in.” Izuku laughed, picturing him rolling in his mate, at a coffee shop, sporting two casts.  

🌻🥦-“Really? I think it will add to my charm. No one can reject these baby blues when I am weak and injured.” He pouted his lips and widened his eyes at his lover. 

🌻🥦-Izuku giggled before leaning over and pecking a kiss on his lips.

🌻🥦-“I guess I can agree with that.” 

***

🌻🥦-“I brought lunch! It has plenty of meat so your Alpha will be quite pleased.” You grinned, opening up the door, Mirio was propped up on the bed. 

🌻🥦-You smiled at the blonde before noticing the greenette was absent. 

🌻🥦-“Where is Izuku? It’s odd not seeing him by your side.” You asked, setting up the tray in front of him. 

🌻🥦-“He had to go to the office for a while. He has been putting off a few things to stay with me so now he has to go in for a bit and catch up.” He said, sending you a big smile, the tinge of sadness was lurking in his eyes. 

🌻🥦-You couldn’t have your best patient getting sad on you. 

🌻🥦-“What do you call a pig that does karate?” You asked, lifting the top of the tray. 

🌻🥦-“What?” He lifted a blond eyebrow. 

🌻🥦-“A pork chop.” You replied, cutting your hand through the air. 

🌻🥦-You were glad your quirk had healed up his ribs or the belt of laughter really would have done a number on him. His loud chuckles was a welcomed sound, the slight sparkle in his eyes even more. 

🌻🥦-“I didn’t know my doctor was also a comedian.” He breathed, clutching his chest with his uninjured arm. 

🌻🥦-“I am many things.” You winked, pushing his plate towards him and setting in the chair by his bed, where Izuku usually sits. 

🌻🥦-“You are staying?” His blond brow went up again, his good hand already picking up a fork. 

🌻🥦-“I have to make sure you don’t eat your whole meal in two bites. I remember your mate saying something about your bottomless stomach. I can’t have my patient choking on me now.” You laughed, pulling out a small notebook from your white coat. 

🌻🥦-You would work on tweaking and editing some of your recipes. 

🌻🥦-Mirio’s Alpha was already purring upon hearing you were gonna stay and keep him company. His human half was delighted as well. 

***

🌻🥦-He had finished his lunch and his mate was still not back. His Alpha was pouting at his other half being gone but something else was bothering him too. It had been a few days since Izuku had given him a good scrub down and his dirty hair was starting to bother him. 

🌻🥦-He was known to take multiple showers a day when he was well. Now that he was injured and couldn’t exactly take as many baths as he pleased he was feeling off. 

🌻🥦-“Y/N could you wash my hair? I can wait until Izuku got here if you feel uncomfortable doing it.” He said, look at the Omega sitting by his bed. 

🌻🥦-“Mirio, I’m a Doctor, washing someone’s hair is the least uncomfortable thing I can do to a patient. Would Izuku be comfortable with it though? I know how territorial Alpha pairs can get.” You questioned, tilting your head. 

🌻🥦-“I am sure he would understand. You don’t have to worry about him going all Alpha on you. We wouldn’t have been going on courting dates to find our third partner if either one of us was easily jealous.” He smiled, strategically letting you know they were poly. 

🌻🥦-For some reason, your Omega purred happily at the news. You shoved her aside and professionally nodded your head and smiled. 

🌻🥦-“Well, that is good to hear. Would you like to do it here or in the bathroom?” You asked, taking off your white coat, you didn’t want to get it wet. 

🌻🥦-“The bathroom. I would like to keep my bed dry.” He grinned, reaching to grab his crutches leaning up against the bed. 

🌻🥦-He had his head in the sink while you intertwined your fingers in his hair and massaged the shampoo in. You took note of is soft hair the moment your fingers threaded through it. 

🌻🥦-You Omega was already sighing in bliss at the texture. Omega’s loved soft and silky things. 

🌻🥦-It seems you weren’t the only one enjoying the feeling. The poor Alpha was putty in your hands. If the chair he was sitting in disappeared he would slump to the ground. 

🌻🥦-You had a soft spot for the Alpha so you continued to massage his head even though the shampoo was already worked in well enough. Izuku walked in while you were doing so, he paused at the bathroom door. 

🌻🥦-Mirio had told you his mate would be fine with it but that didn’t stop your Omega from letting out a tiny chirp. Izuku had been nothing but nice to you. You were a bit embarrassed at your reaction but you knew of about Alphas and their aggressiveness when it came to someone interfering with their bond.  

🌻🥦-During your residency, you had treated a few cases of the unlucky ones caught flirting with a person’s Alpha. 

🌻🥦-Mirio had immediately opened his eyes at the sound. He sat up fast and seemed ready to fight off whoever it was that made you chirp. You didn’t know how he was gonna do that with two casts but it made your Omega swoon. 

🌻🥦-Once he saw it was just his mate he released his breath. 

🌻🥦-Izuku widens his eyes in surprise and put his hands up to show you he meant no harm. 

🌻🥦-“Y-you’re fine! I’m not mad! I know it is your job.” He rapidly said, taking a step back. 

🌻🥦-“You sure do know how to make an entrance, Zuku.” Mirio laughed, leaning his head back in the sink bowl. 

🌻🥦-“I’m sorry, Izuku. I know you wouldn’t hurt me but I have seen way too many Alpha attacks with my occupation.” You nervously bit your lip. 

🌻🥦-He is a Hero and you chirped in fear at him! You felt a flush crawl up your cheeks. 

🌻🥦-“It’s fine, Y/N. I understand.” He reassured, clutching a familiar notebook in his hand. “I’ll just wait by the bed.” 

🌻🥦-You nodded before getting back to scrubbing Mirio’s soft hair. You rinse and conditioned his hair quickly. When you were done you wrapped a towel around his neck and lead him back to his bed. 

🌻🥦-Izuku looked up from writing and gave you a small smile. You flash him one back before taking the towel around his mate’s neck and began drying his hair.

🌻🥦-The Alpha was in a state of bliss again. Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t a tiny bit jealous. He wanted to feel your soft hands against his hair too.

🌻🥦-“What are you always writing in that notebook of yours Izuku?” You asked, talking your eyes off the blonde for a second and giving him a curious look. 

🌻🥦-“I have been asked to review a few students from UA and come up with way they could possibly improve their quirk. I am just going over the notes I made and writing down what I think could help them.” He said, lifting his notebook and showing you a sketch of a student’s quirk and small paragraphs going over their strengths and weakness. 

🌻🥦-You were done drying Mirio’s hair so you walked around the bed and peered at it over his shoulder. This student had an ice quirk and could only make the ice stay frozen for a limited amount of time. 

🌻🥦-Izuku had draw lumps of ice that the student was only able to manifest. They reminded you of huge hail balls. It said that the student was working on their arm strength to be able to throw them at opponents. 

🌻🥦-“Mmm. What if the student could shape their ice into a morning-star ball? It would be harder for a villain to ignore if icy needles were stuck in them rather than a chunk of ice bouncing off them.” You said, tapping your chin. 

🌻🥦-Izuku was star struck looking up at you. He was glad you were peering up at the ceiling in thought, not noticing the look of pure awe on his face. When he had gone out on dates with Mirio all the Omega’s seemed to only like him because of his hero status. 

🌻🥦-None of them cared all to much when he started rambling about certain heroes or making notes in the tiny notebook he carried around in his pocket. They certainly didn’t engage and offer any ideas to him. 

🌻🥦-They kinda just ignored him while he scribbled away and focused their attention on Mirio more. 

🌻🥦-He was completely bewitched. A quick flash of him and you cuddled on the couch going over his notes in his notebook while you offer advice every now and then. You asked him about what you could do to add to your meals to help improve them, also taking notes in a small notebook.

🌻🥦-“That is a great idea, Y/N. I’ll write that down. Thank you.” He blushed, quickly scribbling down your idea. 

🌻🥦-He might have been a little hesitant before but now his Alpha was howling at the idea of asking you out. He shot his mate a look and instantly knew his mate was already on board.

🌻🥦-Now they just had to find the right time to ask you out. 

***

🌻🥦-It was Mirio’s final day at the hospital. You were bringing him his discharge papers. You knocked on the familiar door and walked in. Your Omega was already whining at you. She didn’t want that Alpha’s to leave.

🌻🥦-But the Alpha was as good as new. He had gotten off his casts already and the only things left on his body were a few light bruises and scratches. 

🌻🥦-His mate stood by him, helping him put on a cornflower blue jacket. A black bag on the bed told you that he was already packed up and ready to go. They both turned to look at you when you walked in. 

🌻🥦-Mirio was sitting on the bed with his back facing the door so he had to strain his neck to look over. You could have sworn a sparkle was present in both of their eyes when they looked at you. 

🌻🥦-You didn’t want to jump to conclusions so you convinced yourself it was admiration for helping the blue-eyed Alpha get better. 

🌻🥦-“It seems our time has come to an end boys. I can say that besides the corny jokes, you were one of my best patients yet.” You grinned, thinking of all the cheesy jokes he told you. 

🌻🥦-He said he had to outdo your joke by making you laugh harder than he did. So far all he got out of you was a few snickers and chuckles. He made it his life’s mission to see you wheeze in laughter.

🌻🥦-“I don’t think so, Izuku and I were thinking, would you like to come out to dinner with us? We feel like it is time for us to feed you for a change.” He offered, his smile still on his face but you could see the slight nervousness on his face. 

🌻🥦-This offer was clearly more than a simple thanks. Poor Izuku was fidgeting where he stood, not looking you in the eye. 

🌻🥦-Your heart warmed at the two anxious Alphas. 

🌻🥦-“Sure. I would love to.” You agreed, your Omega yipping with joy. 

🌻🥦-You couldn’t wait to see how this turned out. 

This is my first time writing for this pair so feel free to tell me how you feel about them! Thank you for the support. Please reblog and leave a like. Both really help keep me motivated to write. 💛💚

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ Episodes 5-6

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

⇢ script form (name: lines) are the interviews

Episode 5

she was in the back oh hoseok and taehyung’s car with a book open on her lap

“makdung-ah, have a sandwich”

hoseok handed her a sandwich which she blindly reached for and nearly knocked over, making hoseok shout and taehyung shocked

“got it! i got it! sorry, i’m a mess”

she was laughing and settled back in her chair, sandwich in hand and focus on her books

she saw seokjin in his sunglasses and choked a little “hobi oppa, where’s the water?”

they were talking about taehyung’s mixtape at some point

“oppa’s music is really nice, though. the stuff you let me hear is really good, i love listening to them” “thanks, aegi”

“look at you guys and your mixtapes. am i the only one who’s going to promote solo as an idol?”

hoseok and taehyung just laughed at her “we’re your biggest fans”

“we’re heeeeeere! my trampoline!”

hoseok opened her door for her and helped her out. she took her small carriers, still two because one held all her equipment while the other held her clothes and some skincare and makeup

“is it necessary to bring work here?” jungkook asked her

“i mean, you never know when ideas will pop up, right?”

a few minutes later, you can see her running up to the cars again “my guitar’s still in the car!”

miya: honestly, i was just excited to be able to relax again. i don’t think i ever slept that much anywhere else. the oppas say it’s good for me *laughs*

the first thing she did when she got in her room was to pull her blanket from the carrier with her equipment and take her plushies out of her backpack

she put them down inside the mosquito net “alright toph, koda, time for you guys to rest from the long drive”

she ran over to the upper house “yoongi oppa! can i help with the food!” “that would be much appreciated, princess”

she’s chopping up vegetables quickly, drawing hoseok’s attention

“sometimes, i forget you’re a good cook because of how clumsy you are. hyung, you know she nearly dropped her sandwich in the car earlier?” “oppaaaa, don’t tell them thaaaat”

she was grilling some marinated pork chops in the kitchen while the older members were outside. hoseok stopped by, and she cut him a little piece for tasting

“perfect as always, makdungie”

jungkook punching the broth behind her distracted her the slightest bit by making her laugh “oppa, you’re hyperactive today”

she brought the huge dish of marinated pork out to the table and yoongi had her taste the dakgalbi

“ooooh it’s smokey, i love it!”

she made sure to get the bowl with what looked like the least amount of noodles which yoongi noticed and made up for it by giving her a lot meat

meanwhile seokjin looked at her “i still can’t believe you won’t tell us how you make the marinade for your pork” “that’s a secret between me and yoonsungie oppa”

she ran off after eating saying she had to brush her teeth

right after she did, she ended up sitting by the deck with her guitar playing random melodies and writing them down

seokjin surprised her by arriving and going straight into the canoe

“oppa?” “i hit a ball into the lake by accident” “well, looks like a home run”

she laughed when his canoe hit the deck before setting her guitar down and helping him out of it

“oh god, i’m sleepy”

she headed up to the main house with seokjin where jungkook was half asleep

she settled next to him and somehow they made themselves fit into the small bench. they just passed out despite the other members being quite loud

hoseok and seokjin were trying to wake the two maknaes up. seokjin picked her up from jungkook’s grasp and she just ended up wrapping her limbs around him and burying her face in his neck and going back to sleep

“oppa,” she mumbled while seokjin was hitting jungkook with the foam roller, “this game is so violent. and loud. and making you move a lot”

“aigoo, you two won’t be sleeping in the boat house later at this rate”

next you see of her, she’s in the kitchen whisking eggs and talking to herself

“this whole process can’t be aired to protect my fried chicken recipe,” she looked at the nearest camera “please keep it a secret, editor-nims”

while jungkook is filleting the fish, they overlay the sound of her frying the chicken

“simple fried chicken when done well is worth a lot”

seokjin walked in, yoongi close after

“oppas, i’m making chicken! what else are we having for dinner?”

seokjin patted her head “you did well, princess. what about doenjang jjigae?” “oh, sounds good!”

yoongi helped her bring the plates of fried chicken out to the table which she began to set for them

jungkook hopped out to have her taste some of the sushi making her grin

then he threw her over his shoulder

“stop hovering over the chicken and come inside to help taste stuff!” “but the bugs!”

she ended up inside tasting yoongi’s jjigae

she stayed off to the side mixing a bunch of sauces together for the chicken if the others wanted to flavor it

jungkook came and playfully put some of the honey soy sauce on the sushi and tried it

“wah, hold on, that’s actually good” “oppa, save the sauce for the chicken!” “there’s also garlic parmesan and teriyaki!”

miya: it felt nice to have a lot of us in the kitchen. there were so many things going on both creative wise and, well, cooking wise. i usually cook alone at the dorms or with one other person, but being with a lot of people gives it a more chaotic but homey feel. it’s… it’s a very warm feeling”

there were compliments passed around for the chicken, sushi, and soup and she just had the biggest grin on her face while eating

seokjin placed a small plate in front of her “these pieces don’t have wasabi, so you can eat it”

“let’s have yoonmi’s marinated fried chicken tomorrow!” “oh, good. i already marinated them in the fridge for tomorrow, anyway”

yoongi pulled the soju bottle away from her “that means no drinking tonight, princess. we want you awake in time to cook lunch”

she headed for the boat house after dinner

Episode 6

jimin popped into her room while she was settling herself in bed. he crawled into her mosquito net with her and began tucking her in

“i haven’t done this in a while”

miya: jiminnie oppa had a habit of tucking me in before sleeping back when i was younger. we got older, though, and i started staying in the studio later, so he never got to do it much anymore. it was pretty nostalgic, and i felt like i was fourteen or fifteen again

“i though jinnie oppa wanted to play baseball with you” “i told him i’d come back after checking in on you”

he settled her plushies on either side of her head which made her giggle

“you’re growing up way too fast, aegi. i can’t believe you’re an adult now” “i guess so”

he kissed her forehead “you’re still our makdungie, though. sleep well, alright?”

she smiled at him “good night, oppa”

jimin: i think i didn’t enjoy yoonmi’s childhood enough. one minute, she’s a little kid who barely reached my chest. the next, she’s twenty years old, a successful actress and soloist alongside being in bangtan, and she has a boyfriend, too. i know she’s still my baby, but i feel like time flew by way too fast

the next day, she walked into the upper house kitchen to find seokjin and yoongi cooking. she was still rubbing her eyes, and her hair was a mess

“aigoo, our princess is still sleepy”

she walked right into seokjin’s arms and closed her eyes while he slightly rubbed her back

“should i cook the marinated fried chicken?”

yoongi patted her head “we have a lot of dakgalbi, it’s okay”

she settled on the table facing yoongi while he grilled, chin in her hands as she tried to stay awake on the table

yoongi woke her up and placed a fork in her hand knowing she’s too sleepy to properly use chopsticks

she ate in silence, eyes half-closed

jimin chuckled at her “sleep well last night, aegi” “mhmm yes, oppa”

when they finished lunch, she headed straight for the common area in the main house with her book

she sat reading in between jungkook and namjoon while they painted

“oppas, how’s the weather gonna be today?” “really nice, apparently”

she closed her book for a while before getting up. she silently made her way over to the boat house where she started doing her hair and makeup.

“i’ve got to do a self-photoshoot before i let the nice weather go to waste”

a few minutes later, she’s out on the deck with her phone on a tripod on video mode. she sets it up and presses record before posing by the fence

“god, i hope this comes out pretty”

she moves around a little before checking her phone

“ooooh these are kinda good. okay let me put on a dress and take pictures by the flowers”

jungkook glances at the view again a few minutes later and lets out a laugh when he sees yoonmi in a dress all done up and posing in front of her phone

“i didn’t think she’d actually do the self-photoshoot”

nearly twenty minutes later, she’s back in her loungewear in between namjoon and jungkook taking screenshots of herself from her mini self-photoshoot

she looked up and just watched jungkook paint

“it’s amazing how you can just do that” “i’ll teach you if you want to try” “maybe tomorrow”

she headed inside the common room and continued reading in there

when the sun started to set, she headed over to her room to put her book down

she washed off her makeup and headed up to the upper house

[sourwormsaresour]

Hc's on La Squadra's favourite foods?

Sorry this took a while! Finals are right around the corner and I wanted to to look up foods to make sure I was presenting them accurately. 

Illuso, the proud Spaniard he is, is a paella connoisseur. The man has a huge paella pan specifically to make paella and he spends his spare time perfecting the art of making the best paella in the world. Every summer once a year he brings the pan out, orders a ton of ingredients, and makes a large batch of paella for the team to eat in a nearby park. Weeks or even months before "paella day" Illuso would be ordering ingredients in advance, and spend hours preparing everything. He would even go as far as grinding the saffron himself, making the broth early in the morning, and refusing anyone else from helping. Formaggio and Ghiaccio constantly whine about how long it takes, to which Illuso always replies “Paella doesn't wait for anyone- YOU wait for it.” But it’s all worth it in the end when the sun is setting and everyone's huddled around the open fire chowing down on paella and drinking alcohol they bought from the nearby liquor store. Illuso wouldn't say this out loud, but he loves these moments with his team.

Prosciutto doesn’t have a specific favorite food but anything rich and heavy or similar to classic French cuisine is his go-to meal- maybe Cabernet Braised Short-Ribs with Creamy Mash Potatoes to soak up all that sauce. He loves the kind of big meals that you would love to take your time eating late into the night and pair with a glass of wine. Growing up, he had a tough relationship with food because his mother often controlled what and how much he could eat; being a child actor also didn't help. So it took him a while to rebuild that relationship into something healthier, and that led him to like foods that can guarantee a nice food coma afterward. He doesn’t eat these types of foods often though (he still has those feelings of guilt when he eats them) and prefers his comas to be undisturbed, but he will eat these foods on occasion. He and Formaggio are food coma buddies and you would often find them after a big meal napping on the same couch together. Sometimes the other members join along too. 

Gelato is a soup lover and loves a classic Minestrone on a cold day. As a kid growing up poor and having to care for his siblings ever since he was young, Gelato quickly learned how to make meals given whatever was available. Hot soup was the easiest and often quickest thing to make that used leftovers and can keep his siblings and his bellies full and bodies warm during the winter, so soup became his go-to for cooking and ultimately his comfort food. Gelato would often make soups in his spare time as a way to also destress and cook at night with minimal noise complaints. He loves all types of soups: bisques, creams, broths, purees, chowders, anything that's warm that you can sip is a soup for him to eat. He also goes heavy on seasoning, mainly because it helps hide bad flavors that might have come from the leftovers but also sees having access to fresh spices as a sort of wealth status in his eyes. Whenever the team is in a financial pinch, Gelato makes soups to mitigate costs on food and they often end up being very tasty in the end.  

Melone likes Palak Paneer and Saag Paneer, but he also loves to eat anything South Indian or vegetarian South Asian. This is mainly because his meals are often plant-based and he loves spicy foods in general. Melone likes to incorporate various types of spices into his meals and learned how to make South Indian food himself using local ingredients. He and Illuso would often visit Lombardy or Rome to shop for spices, which lets them interact with the South Asian communities of Italy frequently. You can catch them often gossiping with the local aunties or exchanging recipes with the grandmothers they got to know. One of his favorite pastimes is trying new recipes he learned from them, experimenting with spices into other foods, or making fusion foods based on recipes he learned; it's usually a hit or miss, but it’s often an adventure to get there. Melone occasionally flexes on his teammates for handling spicy foods better than everyone. 

Risotto has a major sweet tooth, so his favorite foods are desserts. In particular, he loves Pastiera and always looks forward to them during Easter when his aunt makes them. From the crumbly crust to the orange flower scent that fills his nose whenever he takes a bite, Risotto enjoys every bit of it. Ever since he began work as an assassin, he's been trying to find bakeries that can make the same Pastiera he loved and even tried to make it himself; all turned out to be bust. Nothing beats his aunt's version and he honestly can't bake if his life depended on it. Yet every year around Easter time, Headquarters gets a mysterious delivery of Pastieras with no address that surprisingly tasted like Risotto's aunt's recipe. Everyone assumed one of the neighborhood grandmothers decided to give them an Easter present and testing the dessert showed no traces of poison or anything malicious. Yet Risotto knew where the Pastiera came from. Despite the memories of his past often bringing sadness whenever he remembered them, eating the Pastiera every Easter always put a smile on his face.

Sorbet is a stickler for authentic Carbonara. However, you have to make it exactly like it should be made: with the best guanciale, expensive Pecorino Romano, fresh handmade pasta, nothing more or less. Sorbet himself isn't a great cook but he knows how to make carbonara and would often make it whenever the ingredients needed are available. He refuses to substitute anything in the recipe and will savagely criticize you if you use regular bacon or, God forbid, garlic, in your carbonara. Like some of the other members, Sorbet would also spend his time perfecting his recipe, but doesn't do it as much due to the simplicity of Carbonara's ingredients and his refusal to add anything that would ruin the authenticity of the dish. However, nothing can beat his mother's carbonara. He hopes that one day he could make a carbonara that is just as good as hers. 

Formaggio loves to eat Pizza Fritta. He grew up eating a lot of processed, high-carb foods as a child in the working-class due to convenience and cost. Both his parents worked long hours and struggled to get by often, which made him eat premade foods often and make do with it. As a result, he finds foods that are full of carbs very comforting and once thought he invented something when he fried pizza dough for the first time. That's when he discovered Pizza Fritta and often made it because it filled him up quicker, has more richness and flavor than "healthy" foods, and fried food is just addicting to eat. At one point he made it a business that he ran with his childhood friends where they would make Pizza Frittas but then stopped when they realized they weren't selling well. Formaggio still enjoys eating and making them, experimenting with whatever toppings he can get his hands-on, and he has his own "secret" dough recipe he refused to give out. Sometimes he makes batches to give out to the team and would steal ingredients from the other team members whenever he makes them. They always tell him he could just ask for ingredients but he never does.

Pesci's ideal meal would involve eating whatever fish he just caught after a long fishing day and maybe some premade side dishes to accompany it. Growing up in a family of fishermen led him to enjoy the experience of waking up in the early morning to go out to sea, catch fish into the noon, and returning to the beach where you set up a grill or fire pit to cook your dinner. Depending on the fish and how the grill or fire pit is set up, Pesci loves to cook it in any way he can: grilled on a stick, steamed with herbs, fried up in thick batter, anything you can think of. Prosciutto and Risotto often join him on his fishing excursions, mainly because they're the only ones who can tolerate the constant waiting that fishing had and the aesthetic of fishing and cooking your food without fancy equipment (looking at you Illuso), but Pesci doesn't mind it. He's just glad that he has some friends to join in and keep him company when he’s at sea. Prosciutto and Risotto would fish along with him, but let Pesci work his magic when it comes to cooking the food afterward. 

Ghiaccio is down to have a really good hamburger with everything on it- the kind that has a juicy fresh patty, melted cheese, flavorful sauce, and crisp vegetables to balance everything out. Like Prosciutto, he also grew up with a controlled diet; it was more of not allowing him to eat foods that would compromise his health, like processed sugars and unnecessary carbs. Ghiaccio never had a chance to try certain foods until he became an assassin and now he loves eating things he wasn't allowed to eat before. He's still conscious about what he eats because he's still into having a healthy and athletic lifestyle, but he loves that feeling of rebellion when he's eating what looks like fast food. Late-night drives involve him getting an order of burgers and fries and eating them while speeding down the freeway; one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding his burger. He also loves a good chicken sandwich, and would probably cry in joy if he ever had a chance to try In-and-Out or Chick-Fil-A. 

[genshin-garbage]

Shit Stew

Lumine is sick, and when she’s sick she especially misses her brother. Luckily, she has Paimon and her boyfriend Venti to cheer her up with some... questionable food.

“Hnnnngg” Lumine rolls on to her back. She’s been burning up since this morning. Venti brings over a pail of cool water and a wet cloth over to her bed. As he puts the cloth on her forehead, Lumine groans out more in her sleep.

“Aether... no... don’t leave me alone.... come back...” Lumine’s breathing becomes heavy so Venti nudges her a little to wake her up.

“Lumi, wake up.” Lumine opens her eyes, she was sweaty and confused, “Hey Lumi, don’t worry, it’s just a nightmare, I’m here.” Venti holds Lumine’s hand as to reassure her.

“Venti? When did you get here? Am I sick? I feel like shit.” Lumine tries to sit up but is gently pushed back down.

“Paimon let me in. I hadn’t seen you today so I was worried. You have a fever love.” Venti brushes his fingers through Lumine’s hair. “Are you ok? You had a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I had a dream about my brother again. I miss him a lot. He would take care of me whenever I got sick.” Lumine brings Venti’s hand to her cheek, “Your hand is cool, it feels nice.”

Venti blushes, “You should go back to sleep. Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

Lumine smiles, “I’d like that.”

So Venti sings her a sweet song from Mondstadt’s past and slowly, Lumine fell asleep. Her body was exhausted but she didn’t seem to be having a nightmare. His song reached its end and Venti got up to leave the room to allow Lumine to rest.

“Is Lumine going to be ok?!” Paimon raced up to the bard as soon as she saw him exit the room “Poor Lumine looked awful!”

“Shhhhh, dear Lumine is asleep so I’d advise you to keep your voice down to a peep. She should be fine after some rest, but perhaps we can do something to ease her pain.”

“Hmmm.” Paimon thought about what they could do. “Oh! Paimon remembers Lumine mentioning a stew her brother would make whenever she was sick. Maybe we can make her that. I’m sure Paimon can find a recipe in one of Lumine’s cooking journals.”

“A splendid idea. She seemed to be missing her brother so I’m sure she would appreciate something that brings memories of her brother.” Venti nods “Alright then, let’s find that recipe.”

Paimon and Venti shuffle through Lumine’s bag of books. Eventually they find a book made from a material that can’t be found in Tevat. Using what Paimon knows of Lumine’s native language (which is surprisingly a lot), they decipher the title to be “Aether’s original recipes”.

“Hmmm, keep turning the pages, I’ll tell you when to stop.” Venti flips through the pages slowly until they reach the page they were looking for.

“It says “Sick Stew”. This should be it, though it has some strange ingredients.” Paimon reads it out loud, “Hot slimes, spicy chilies, meat, grounded dry grass, broth made of a cold plants and bugs from hot climates. Paimon thinks it sounds more like a potion than a stew.”

“You’re right but it’s worth a shot. How bad could it be?” Venti said with a smirk.

It was so much worse than either of them had anticipated.

The actual cooking process was fine, the instructions were clear enough. However when they tasted the stew, not even Paimon could stomach it.

“Paimon thinks it tastes like vomit, and it’s aftertaste is like if the sound of scraping your nails across a chalkboard had a taste.” Paimon groaned in between spits. “It’s so awful.”

“I concur.” Venti held the trash can close just in case he vomited, “We followed the directions to the tea, so what went wrong..”

“Venti... Paimon... What’s that smell” Lumine’s voice was heard from the kitchen. “I’m hungry, bring me some of whatever you’re making.” Venti and Paimon went wide eyed, the smell was awful and yet she still wanted some? How congested was she?

“Should we?” Paimon asked Venti who was staring at the pot.

“I guess, we can bring it to her and if she thinks it looks bad to eat we can just get rid of it.” Venti grabbed a bowl and spoon and placed it on a tray, he also grabbed some water and went into Lumine’s room.

“Venti?! What’s wrong?! Did I get you sick?” Lumine looked worriedly at Venti, who’s face was pale due to the smell and lingering aftertaste of the stew.

“I’m quite alright love, me and Paimon made a stew that your brother would make for you.” Lumine slowly sat up as Venti placed the tray onto her lap.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, Paimon can get something from Good Hunter.” Paimon said as she floated to the other side of Lumine.

“No! It actually smells amazing! Thank you.” She takes a deep whiff of the smell and digs in. After a few bites Lumine starts to cry.

“Ah! Is it that bad? Please don’t cry! You really don’t have to eat it love.”

“No! I- I love it! It tastes just like how Aether would make it! It’s really good!” Lumine holds the bowl protectively as she eats it. Her skin seemed to regain some color as she digs in. Paimon and Venti stare in both wonder and horror as she enjoys her meal, wondering how she managed to enjoy the monstrosity.

When she finally finished her meal she yawned and put the tray on the bedside table. She kisses Venti on the cheek “I love you so much, thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome love. We’ll let you rest now.” Venti turns to leave the room.

“Wait!” Lumine grabs onto Venti’s wrist “Please stay. Come sleep with me please.”

Lumine looks at Venti with puppy dog eyes and he easily caves, “If that is what my lady wishes, I’ll stay. I’ll sing you another lullaby too.” He takes off his shoes, hat, and cape and crawls into the bed. He holds Lumine’s body against his and hums a tune. Paimon also crawls into bed with them, opting to curl herself up against Lumine’s stomach from on top of the covers. When the girls were asleep, Venti placed a chaste kiss on top of Lumine’s head.

“Sweet dreams my beloved traveler.”

[heyheydidjaknow]

It’s 200 words under my quota, but, in my defense, I don’t think it makes a ton of sense to make it longer for a variety of reasons. Also, y’all get it a day before the deadline. Please, god, let me write something to lighten up the gloom at some point.

Chapter 7

You were wondering before; yes, apparently it cracks, not splatters like you thought it would.

You are not sure how that is the only detail you remember about today. Some things happened before, you are sure. You do not remember those things, but you know there was more that happened.

As soon as the deed is done, you start climbing down the fire escape. You jump down the last story down onto your hands, wiping the blood off on your jeans as you sprint out into the street, running and busting through the front door. You scramble up the steps towards the front of the building, taking your bag and smashing it through a window to climb through. You hear the cries of combat above you as you grab Murakami by the ankle, crimson staining his skin as you swing him back onto solid ground. Electricity flows through your veins as you grab a shard of glass off the metal balcony, sawing at the rope and cutting him loose. You pull the gag out of his mouth, pulling him, staggering, to his feet as you both start back down the stairs.

He is saying something. You do not hear him, the sound of muffled screams and shattering bones ringing in your ears like a gong, his face tattooed onto your eyelids. A part of you notes how strange it is that you are not being followed; then again, it is not you they are after.

The walk is surprisingly short, you think. You push the door open for him as you both walk inside.

“Murakami?” You hear your voice call out to him.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Do you have a bathroom?” Why are you so quiet?

“Yes.” He walks behind the counter. “Right in the back.”

“Thank you, sir.” You walk to the back of the shop, pushing the appropriately labeled door open and walking to the sink. You start scrubbing the blood off your hands, scraping what had dried from under your fingernails as you look up at yourself in the mirror. You blink, perplexed by your expression. You look corpselike, the dim lights of the tiny bathroom casting long shadows across your features. You reach up, feeling the structure of your face. Your fingers gently pull your skin out of place to confirm that, yes, that is you.

Your digits are ice against your skin.

You remember more details than you wish you did about what transpired the minutes before. You remember how much he strained not to shake underneath you. You have muted memories of talking of some sort, but when you try to focus on the memory, your ears fill with static.

‘I must have dissociated or something,’ you reason to yourself, trying to cling to your own body as you relive that scene in your head.

You remember the sounds he made before you let go. You remember how his shirt was drenched with sweat as Leonardo tried reasoning with your enemy. You remember how he had squirmed underneath you, how odd you found that; he must have known that he would not be able to make it out of this unscathed, you are sure.

You feel your fingernails graze your now pale complexion. Paler than usual, anyways; you were never the observant type.

You remember securing your position with one foot against the edge of the building, your heartbeat irregular as you held him there, knuckles going white around his clothing and skin. You remember hearing what you thought was a laugh as you leaned forward. Oh, how he had tremored, eye to eye with his executioner.

“If you knew what was coming next,” you murmured into his ear, “you would thank me.”

You had promised yourself not to look over the edge when you dropped him. There was nothing you could do about the sound.

Your middle and ring fingers feel at the ledge of your eye sockets. They gently tug your eyelids apart, holding your eyes open as you stare yourself blankly in the eyes. A lump rises in your throat as your limbs tingle from the excess adrenaline.

‘I killed a man.’

You wipe your face off with your sleeve as you shut off the faucet. You flick your hands dry, wiping the excess on your pants as you walk back onto the main floor, collapsing in one of the stools and resting your head on the counter. Time is swirling together now. Is that normal? You do not know.

‘You solved a lot of problems.’ You close your eyes, replaying his last few moments on repeat. ‘If he survived, he’ll never be able to do ninjutsu again. Taking only Xever down will be a cakewalk by comparison, and Karai… there’s no way Shredder can get allies to the states that fast.’ You hug your sides. ‘The episodes after next, besides the Stockman ones, cannot happen, meaning I have more time to come up with a game plan regarding Karai’s arrival. I doubt he considers us much of a threat, even now, so as long as I can figure out how to get the guys to survive next—’

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ceramic thump of a bowl being placed in front of you.

“You must eat, my friend. Food heals the mind.” He smiles gently. “Your murmuring speaks to your distress.”

You look up at him, sitting up properly despite yourself. “Thank you, Murakami.” Your fingers wrap around the handle of the spoon. It shakes violently in your hand; you place your hands on the table, for now, not trusting yourself to not spill the broth over yourself.

“Would you like me to lend you my ears?”

You hum in discontent. “I’m alright.” You chuckle dryly. “You should probably sit down more than I should; you must be in quite a bit of shock after what happened.”

“That is true.” You watch him pour himself his bowl. “Yet I feel as if we’ve experienced equivalent amounts of pain over both of our lifetimes.”

That made you smile, if only weakly. “Hardly.” You fold your hands together, scratching at a piece of dried gore that you had apparently not gotten off the back of your hand. “You have quite a few years on me, sir. The stories you could probably tell would make my head spin.”

“My life has, thankfully, been rather peaceful.” He sets the bowl down next to you, sitting and starting to eat. “I came to New York when I was a young man, and I’ve run this shop since then.”

You hold your hand up to see if the shaking has lessened; it has, slightly. “And your family?”

“Thankful for my health and wellbeing.” He smiles. “I see them, still. They live farther downtown.”

“For your sake, I’m grateful.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure they will be quite excited by my story.”

You slow your breathing, taking a sip from the bowl and humming softly. “Did your mother teach you to cook?”

“She did, although,” he nods, “I must admit that her food will always be better than mine.”

“I feel that.” You smile shakily, taking another bite. The dryness of your throat does not lessen. “I’ve been trying to get some family recipes down for at least two months on my own, and every time it’s just not the same.”

He nods slowly. “As always is the case with these sorts of things, I’m sad to say. It doesn’t get better with age, I’m afraid.”

You rest your head in your hands, closing your eyes. You can still hear him. “That totally sucks.”

He laughs. “Yes, well,” he sighs, “that is the nature of getting older.”

He reminds you too much of people you knew for you not to smile at that. If nothing else, this conversation serves as a slight distraction, some sort of relief from the ringing in your head; you do not even know how you would talk to the Hamatos about this sort of thing. They may be the only friends you have right now, but they are hardly known for their tact or reassurance. You do not want their advice to let it go or to hear that this whole thing will pass. They cannot understand this, you do not think. “You know what?” You take another bite. “Getting old, from where I stand, seems completely and totally overrated.”

He smiles. “You remind me so much of my son; he used to say the same thing before he left for college.”

“And after?”

He clears his throat. “’It’s not totally overrated.’” He chuckles. “He has a wonderful little girl. She has the sweetest voice you’ll ever hear.”

“I guess that’s true.” You pause. “It just feels like, sometimes, I’m never going to be that old, you know? Never have kids or a life after high school.”

He nods. “I’ll tell you this right now: every adult you’ll ever meet has had that same thought. There’s no way around it; everyone has that sort of doubt.” He sighs. “But there are a lot of adults out there with kids and lives, so we must be doing something right.”

Maybe Murakami does not fully understand what you mean, but you feel better, talking to him. You might have talked to Yoshi about this, but you doubt you would want to; he seems too high up, almost, too important to bother with this sort of thing. “I guess that’s true.” You sigh. “It doesn’t make it seem any more possible, though.”

“Well, there isn’t anything I could say that could make that change.” He takes another bite. “But never forget that things, no matter how bad they are, have to get better eventually. Life comes in waves, and if you stand your ground against them, the calm will come.”

You pause, sigh. You reach into your bag, pulling a wallet out and placing a twenty onto the table. “Thank you, sir.” You finish your food, getting to your feet. “I’m sorry about roping you into all of this. Hopefully, at least, the others will be able to help you more and keep break-ins to a minimum.”

“You don’t have to pay.” He smiles. “You saved my life, after all.”

“I insist.” You rub the back of your neck. “Besides, the guys are probably going to come to see if you’re alright in a bit, and I don’t want them to raid your kitchen.”

He laughs. “For the young men that saved me? I owe them my life itself. Gyoza is the least I can provide.”

“Still.” You start towards the door, pulling it open. You look back at the man.

‘This is worth it.’

You wave back at him. “I’ll see you later, Murakami.”

“I look forward to when we meet again.”

You close the door behind you, starting up the street towards your apartment.

You feel sick.

Table of Contents

Chapter 6 part 1

Chapter 8

[lovelylogans]

I’d like to request “There was never an us.” for Moxiety, because I never see betrayal-type angst with that ship

hell’s kitchen

“after a good dinner one can forgive anybody.”—oscar wilde, a woman of no importance

ao3 | other fics on tumblr | coffee?

warnings: food mentions, spice mentions, bickering-type arguing, mostly fluff but please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairings: moxiety, not mentioned logince

words: 1,437

notes: ohhhhh my god. oHHHH my god. okay look when you say “betrayal-type angst” my brain just went NOPE and as such uhhhh here’s this. takes place after “cohabit” in the wyliwf verse. thank to @teacupfulofstarshine for the “funny names will not save you” line, and also the title!

one of the best parts of living with virgil—other than falling asleep in his arms every night or pressing himself up against virgil’s back, or waking up snuggling him just about every morning, or, like, cuddling on the couch during movie nights, or, like, everything, everything about it—is the fact that he gets to eat virgil-made food all the time.

it. is. fantastic.

he has, of course, offered to help in the ways he can, and pointed out that virgil doesn’t have to cook all the time but virgil always waves him off, pointing out that it’s something he loves to do, and cooking for logan and patton means that he gets to branch out from the usual menu at his diner, which means that patton gets to eat a lot of things he’s basically never heard of before but is now an ardent fan of, like scaccia for dinner and ossetian khachapuri for breakfast.

and if he doesn’t feel like it, it means that patton can sub in with his (admittedly much more basic) cooking, like spaghetti or pizza. sometimes, logan cooks, mostly in preparation for college and eventually living on his own, and that’s always fun to watch virgil guide logan through some basic recipes, and if none of them are up to cooking, they’ll order out (usually from al’s pancake world or anywhere but virgil’s, since virgil admits he’s kind of sick of eating his own diner food.)

doing more dishes in exchange for really good food is a more-than-fair trade, in patton’s mind. there are sometimes misses, like when virgil makes ema datshi and the three of them go red in the face from the sheer amount of spice, drinking nearly a gallon of milk between all of them in an effort to kill the fire in their mouths, but those are few and far between. 

so when he comes downstairs to virgil dishing up a bowl of mac and cheese for dinner one night, saying that he’s trying out a new recipe, it’s not suspicious, necessarily, but it is a little tame. patton guesses he’s left the middle-eastern food kick he’s been on for the past couple weeks and wanted to do something relatively low-effort; he has kind of been doing a food world tour for quite a while.

but patton smiles up at him, and kisses him on the cheek, and thanks him for dinner, and then goes to call logan down for dinner, because he’s locked himself up in his room to do intensive research for a story for the franklin. 

by the time logan’s come down, virgil’s setting out bowls of some kind of salad, which like, fine, patton guesses, because one of the other drawbacks (or benefits, his doctor and virgil would probably say benefits) meant that virgil got to serve them a lot more healthy side dishes or main courses than he would have had to in the diner, since they aren’t ordering and paying for their dinner.

“hey, kid,” virgil says. “research going okay?”

logan takes a deep breath, which makes patton tamp down his grin. oh, that means they’re in for a lecture.

(logan is a fantastic journalist, and he’s going to do great things out there in the world, but patton thinks that maybe, after he wins fifty thousand pulitzers and maybe a nobel prize, logan would make a great teacher. or at least, in the midst of winning fifty thousand pulitzers, patton hopes that he’ll do some guest lectures at a university, or something, telling all the future bright-eyed journalists about his own adventures and how to best chase a story.)

so logan speaks about the various rabbit holes his research has led him down between bites of mac and cheese and salad and sips of water, fielding questions from virgil and patton, at one point getting up and grabbing a notepad to jot down some kind of idea that patton’s question sparked in his head.

logan talks about his day, too, even if it is mostly in the realm of talking about what happened in his franklin class, and virgil talks about his day too (”taylor,” he growls, “is up to something” which makes logan’s ears perk up and jot it down on the notepad, because the pair of them are… well, he would say menaces, if taylor wasn’t so taylor, not that he’d ever say that out loud.) and so does patton, even if his day was mostly dull—really, the most exciting thing was an update on pau-pau, one of michel’s precious dogs.

but it’s a good family dinner. it’s a nice family dinner, the three of them talking and laughing occasionally. it’s good company, good food, and patton is happy.

at the end of dinner, logan goes back to his room basically as soon as he can, frowning down at his notepad and jotting down more notes even as he’s going up the stairs, and patton laughs a little after him, shaking his head.

“workaholic,” patton says affectionately. 

“well, he didn’t actively start researching during dinner, that’s an improvement over last week,” virgil suggests, and patton snorts, shaking his head, before he retreats back into the kitchen and goes to gather up the bowls.

“dinner was really good,” patton says brightly. “the mac and cheese tasted different, but that’s probably ‘cause it’s not kraft.”

“oh, good,” virgil says, and hands over the cup that patton’s reaching for, before patton even asks. “it’s a new recipe, i was hoping you two would like it.”

patton tilts the empty bowls so that virgil can see, before he moves to start rinsing out dishes to stick them in the dishwasher. “well, it was a big hit.”

“good,” virgil repeats. “i’m glad—um, i used milk, salt and pepper, yellow onion—”

patton hums, to show off interest; virgil likes to talk what goes into each recipe, if patton’s not in the room while he’s cooking. mostly because virgil likes to know what’s in everything he’s eating, but hey, it’s interesting enough to patton too, because virgil’s passionate about cooking.

“—vegetable broth—”

“vegetable broth?” patton repeats, because he thinks that the water rushing over the dishes is distorting his hearing.

“uh-huh,” virgil says. “um, gruyere, parsley on top, zoodlesandbutternutsquash—”

patton shuts off the water and turns to face him.

“what was that last part?”

virgil looks abruptly sheepish.

“…zucchini noodles and butternut squash,” he says.

patton gapes at him.

“i mean, you liked it,” virgil points out, fumbling over his words. “so now whenever i serve it, i know you can’t use the excuse of not having liked it—”

“you,” patton says, “snuck me a healthy dinner. in mac and cheese.”

“you liked it!” virgil says defensively.

“you betrayed me. in my own house!” patton declares, mostly joking but also a little affronted.

“our own house,” virgil says, and patton’s lips twitch up, because virgil’s using his sentimentality against him, that jerk who cares deeply for patton’s health!!!!

“there was never an us,” patton says dramatically. 

“they’re zoodles!”

“a funny name won’t save you now,” patton says, haughty. “this settles it.”

“settles what?” virgil says.

“i will accept,” patton says, “ice cream from lucy’s as a gesture of apology.”

virgil throws back his head, laughing, and patton traces the long column of his throat with his eyes. virgil reaches over to swat patton with a dish towel. “i thought you were actually mad!”

“not mad,” patton says. “annoyed, maybe, and just a little. it’s mac and cheese, virgil, you already had a side salad!”

“eating healthy isn’t gonna kill you,” virgil says. “the opposite, really.”

“you’re impossible,” patton says, which would probably be more convincing if he wasn’t smiling.

virgil grins back, leaning down to press a kiss to patton’s upturned lips. “i love you very much.”

“impossible,” patton sighs up at him. “how am i supposed to be annoyed at you for being thoughtful about my vitamin intake and taking an active concern in my health because you generally care for my welfare, and you’re so cute at the same time?”

“it’s a talent,” virgil says smugly, and patton snorts a little, before thwacking him with the same dish towel.

“go,” he says, a laugh still around the edges of his voice. “i have chores to do.”

“if you say so,” virgil says, disappearing around the corner, and patton hesitates before he turns, just a little.

“i wasn’t kidding about the lucy’s!” patton calls after him, still smiling despite himself, and turns back to the dishes.

even if the dish itself was full of betrayal—and he won’t admit this—the mac and cheese was pretty good.

[sooibian]

Flambé (Preview)

poster and edits/collage credits to @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt !

🍜 pairing: kyungsoo x fem!reader

🍜 description: pull up a chair. take a taste. come join us. life is so endlessly delicious. - ruth reichl

🍜 themes: fluff, crack (ish), slight angst, a lil bit of spice (in the future), rivals to lovers au

🍜 word count: ~ 2.8k

🍜 a/n: a little preview of a chef kyungsoo story that i've been working on. while i have the plot fleshed out it'll honestly be a while before the long one/two-shot comes out since a lot of research goes into the details. and....i write at a snail's pace. thank you for your patience and lmk if you'd like a tag in the updates!

this story is inspired by a lot of random yt videos and netflix's shows - street food and chef's table.

tagging *deep breath* @j-pping and @changshapatrol (the real rotten banana is here!)

___________________________________________

Water bobbed in frenetic bubbles in a massive ancient stone pot that was perched atop a fort of raging wood. Amidst brutal peals of thunder, a gushing stream rose from a nearby hill, obscuring the shrill cries of the sacrificial crab.

Chanting a spell, you lifted the enormous crustacean by its pincers and lowered it into the growling, pitch black utensil. Blubbering helplessly, it lodged its claws at the rim of the pot in desperation - seeking escape. The sound of your maniacal laughter reverberated through the cave as you thrust it back into the violent undulation with the flick of a bladed-spatula. 

All of a sudden, a wave of unconsciousness swept over you. You felt your skin singe as boiling water started to fill up your lungs. 

You were alone - at the bottom of the very same utensil.

“Help!” frantic, you staggered up, gasping for air. But the bladed-spatula wielding crab, who was now free and hovering over you, roared at your defenseless form.

Maybe your spell didn't land, you thought. 

“Please, Chef!” you whimpered. 

In one swift motion, it swooshed down to your eye level. 

Bushy black brows sprouted on its forehead, just a little over a pair of big brown circles for eyes. Then came the nose, followed by a bloody red mouth that snarled at you.

zzzz... 

“Late again?” It drawled in a jarring tenor.

zzzz...

zzzz...

zzzz…

4:00 a.m., your phone blinked.

In a sleep befuddled state, your hand reached out for the wailing device. ‘Late again’, Chef’s cold, deep voice sounded in your consciousness as you wiped the droplets of sweat off your forehead.

Chef. 

Doh Kyungsoo had insisted on the title and you'd defiantly refused to call him that. What business does a man working at a Kalguksu stand in Gwangjang Market have, being called a chef. You'd seeked redressal with the higher ups. The owner. Your aunt.

"Aegiya, he has something that you don't."

"A dick?"

"YAH! He has a degree in culinary arts. It's only befitting that we give him the respect his degree deserves!"

"Imo, haven't you watched Parasite? Anyone can forge documents these days and if so then why is he here? He could very well get a job at Four Seasons like Hyun Jin. Think, Imo. Think!” 

“Exactly! With forged documents, he could be anywhere. But he’s here, no?”

“Maybe you’re just easier to manipulate.”

"Chef. You're calling him Chef."

Every time the egotistical madman opened that darned mouth of his, it made you want to knock him down with a roundhouse and beat the living daylights out of him. 

But, with a deep breath, you always resisted the temptation. 

Because one day, one glorious day, you’d take over your aunt’s business and the very first item on your agenda would be….well, the obvious. With a glimmer of hope, you floundered out of your comforter, muttering every cuss word you’d learnt...and crafted in the course of working with the devil himself.

.

.

.

“Ahh 3000 is a bit too much for cucumbers", he said to the middle aged vendor, flashing a boyish grin. 

The face of sourcing had drastically changed in the last six months since Kyungsoo’s arrival. Prior to his dictatorship, your aunt had a tie up with some of the local vendors who’d hand deliver the produce every single day, without fail. Guess Kyungsoo didn’t fully comprehend the benefits of customer loyalty. ‘There could be better quality ingredients out there, Sajangnim...economically priced, I might add’, he’d convinced your aunt using his military corporal voice. No matter if it meant awkward break-ups with the vegetables ahjumma or the prawns ahjussi. You had to do the dirty work.

And tag along for the routine 5 a.m sourcing runs. Every morning, he greeted you with an accusatory ‘you’ve killed my cat’ expression.

You groaned, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. If only he’d quit flirting with every woman in the market and hurry up! The purchases had long exceeded the capacity of your humble cart. Flailing your numb arms awake, you urged him to speed up with a nudge of the knee but he glared at you like you’d asked him for a kidney. 

Kyungsoo had a tendency to overbuy but never would he help with a single bag. ‘I don’t like to sweat’ was his excuse. Which was pretty ridiculous considering he spent over ten hours a day overseeing a scorching frying pan. But you knew better than to argue. Because as much as you loathed every fibre of his existence, he terrified you a little. The man possessed the duality of a psychopath. As fierce as he was in the Market, ruthlessly competitive even, he was quite the sweet talker. And you could bet your life on the fact that every woman - whether or not a rival - would take a bullet for him.

“Ahdeul-ah”, the woman cooed at him, making your insides violently contort, “you know how tight the market is these days. But I’ll throw in some more only for you.” 

The additional weight of three kilos on your right arm ended your sourcing run for the day.

***

“Chef”, huffing, you said to him on your way out, “I had a late night last night.”

“And I need to be privy to this little nugget of unwarranted information because?” He paced ahead of you at his usual lightning speed.

“No, I meant, could we stop”, panting you continued, “could we stop for a quick cup of coffee.”

Halting abruptly, he turned around to look you in the eyes, “No.”

“Asshole!”

“I heard that.”

.

.

.

Monday at Choi Yoonsun’s was busier than usual. 

It went by in a daze amidst a cacophony of a sizzling girdle, clanging of pots and pans and your aunt’s relentless vocalization inviting customers to the stall. Having served thousands of bowls of Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu, you heavily relied on muscle memory to get you through a workday’s demands.

Despite its chaos and commotion, you quite enjoyed working in the Market. 

Not being particularly skilled at much and having nearly flunked out of high school, cooking was the one thing that defined you. It was your safe harbour. You’d lost your father in an accident at the tender age of ten and your mother was forced to work long hours to put food on the table. So you honed your culinary skills, little by little, because you thought it vital for your own well being as well as your mother’s. 

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

At the end of yet another gratifying day, you left a wet towel soaking in vinegar for Kyungsoo to clean the iron girdle and proceeded to tend to the dirty dishes. 

“Yahh!” Imo called out for Kyungsoo and you, thumping her hand on the table, gesturing for you to join her.

“Ahh! Imo, there’s a huge pile of dirty dishes!” You cried, only to turn around to find that ass-kisser already at the table, schmoozing with your aunt. Hastily taking off your grubby apron, you washed your hands and wiped them clean with a rag cloth. Straightening your black shirt and flattening unruly flyaways, you rushed toward the table but she was already up and ready to leave, “We’ll have dinner together tonight. I want to have a chat with the both of you.”

“But -”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupted, wagging a finger in your direction, “this one’s had a late night last night -”

“Chef! So I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight. As if seeing you every day of every week wasn’t enough already!” 

An overtly saccharine smile spread across your face and his jaw tightened in response.

“Aish….you two...I’m leaving now”, she sighed, shaking her head, “see you both in two hours.”

.

.

.

Kimchi jjigae, pajeon, tteokbokki, jajangmyeon, some leftover bibimbap with sides galore from Hong Lim Banchan Stall. She clearly had something important to talk about. 

But the vibe at the dinner table just didn’t sit right with you. 

The reason could be the bespectacled black hole of negativity that was seated besides you in all black clothing but there was something off about Imo. 

She was being a little too...nice.

Fear gradually started to settle in your bones. Was she finally closing down? Was this delectable fare an attempt at softening the blow? After all, she’d settled her husband’s debts and her sons were doing well for themselves. Quite well, in fact. One of them was a banker and the other even went to culinary school and was working as a chef at Four Seasons’ Chinese restaurant. It only made sense for her to trade the Market’s gruelling ways for some much deserved peace and quiet.

“We’re closing down the stall”, she said coolly.

It was like a punch in the gut.

“Imo -”

“Aga”, she said resting her chin on her hand, “the Market’s given me everything. It’s given me a sense of pride...a sense of independence. It put my family back together. I used to think that I’m nothing without my husband and my sons...but the Market gave me an identity.”

A million scenarios cascading through your head drowned out your aunt’s voice. Would you now have to go back to Bucheon? Or invest in a stall of your own at the traditional Gwangjang that’d never accept your big and bold ways with cooking? And to start from scratch? With a new recipe? Kalguksu with a twist, perhaps? But you had no insight into your aunt’s special broth. She’d barely even let you whip up the hand-cut noodles.

You realized that you weren’t the only one caught in the eye of the storm. Kyungsoo’s eyes were scarily fixated on the bowl of jajangmyeon before him. His seemingly miserable state gave you a fleeting sense of relief and it was right in that moment that he chose to say something unpalatable.

“Sajangnim, you’ve worked too hard. It’s time for you to reap the fruits of your labour. We’ll be fine you don’t have to worry about us.”

Of course he’ll be fine. 

All the stall-owners in the Market have been vying for him ever since the day he set foot into Choi Yoonsun’s. Whereas, you had nowhere to go. The world conveniently assumes your aunt hired you only because you were her poor sister’s daughter who she sought to help financially. Not because you had what it took to be there and survive.

"Did I say I was ready to retire?” She laughed, eyeing Kyungsoo quizzically, leaving you dumbfounded. 

“Here’s the thing..I met up with a friend last month. She was looking for a buyer for her little family run marinated crabs restaurant in Gangnam. So I took out a loan, made her an offer”, balling her hands into fists she sighed, “put in the deposit...and the place is pretty much mine now!”

“IMO!”, you yelled, “why did you scare me like that! I thought I was laid off!”

“Well, it’s a big move, I’m not sure the two of you are ready to make...requires a tonne of work and I may not be able to pay half of what you earned at the Market for at least two months until we open! It’ll take us two years or so to break even and only then will I be able to afford you a pay raise. I could help you get a job at the banchan stall since you love seasoned spinach so much and Kyungsoo stands a chance at even managing one of the Pakgane stalls!”

Pakgane was the mung bean pancake stall that had gotten so popular that the owner had managed to branch out of Gwangjang. So even your beloved aunt believed that you’d make for a better “help” and Kyungsoo, a Manager. 

Ugh!

“I’m coming with you”, you said firmly, “I’ve saved up a little and Mom will gladly pitch in, if need be...”

At this point, you’d expected Kyungsoo to be ready with his luggage considering the little sycophant he was but his expression was stoic, eyes still glued to the jajangmyeon bowl. It filled you with insane hope. 

He was going to jump the ship...finally!

“Chef...”, you couldn’t resist, “you don’t have to worry about us...I’m more than enough for Imo. You may...”

He shot you an angry glare making you chew on your unsaid words. But you wanted to rile him just a little more. So you excused yourself to bring a bottle of ketchup and squeezed it generously atop the stack of pajeon while eyeing him maliciously. 

Ketchup. 

The tangy, unassuming condiment was the sole reason Kyungsoo despised you. As this dinner marked the end of his torturous regime, you celebrated with ketchup - lots of it - right in front of his nasty eyes.

.

.

.

Steam swirled in different directions and at every twenty metres a contrastive redolence tickled your olfactory senses. Experiencing Gwangjang as a customer was a far richer experience compared to the donkeywork involved in a life as a vendor. 

A proper send-off was essential lest Kyungsoo decided to stay, even if it burned a hole in your pocket. You planned on giving him a final tour of the Market where he (and you) could say his goodbyes while receiving a premium fuel of vitamins, minerals and carbs. 

A whole lot of carbs.

“Let’s start with Pakgane”, said Kyungsoo, with a skewered sausage in his hand.

You shook your head in response. You wanted to start with the best and mung bean pancakes weren’t it. This was going to be a farewell he’d never forget.

With every step you took, the aroma of scallops drizzled with butter and cheese grew stronger. You started your tour by ordering two portions of the delectable street food which set you back considerably. But you were too elated to care. You refused Kyungsoo’s offer to pay as the woman set the scallops on fire with a blow torch.

“Do you know what that technique’s called?” Kyungsoo gave a little nod in the direction of the aflame food.

Another teachable moment.

You’d made a firm resolve to not let any of his condescension bog you down so with a sweet smile, you replied, “No, Chef. I do not.”

“Flambé. But minus the alcohol. Do you know how they manage that?”

The ahjumma came to your rescue and you jumped to collect the order. You could’ve sworn that you caught the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

***

The Market supposedly looked the same as it did fifty years ago and you quite enjoyed eating your way through it. The tour made your heart grapple with nostalgia even though your partner’s personality was akin to a mug of insipid coffee.

Although you’d spent only a little over a year with Choi Yoonsun, the goodbyes were long and hard. Some of the vendors squeezed you and Kyungsoo in heart wrenching hugs, the others gave you a little cash to help you through the transition and for some of the food, you paid in smiles and love.

After a gastronomic fiesta that entailed tteokbokki, pajeon (minus the ketchup - you did it Kyungsoo’s way), sashimi, kimbap, different types of banchan, a thousand more teachable moments, the both of you ended the day on a sweet note with hotteok. 

The ahjussi wished you both luck, making you choke back tears. 

Kyungsoo noticed.

“Are you…. Is the hotteok spicy? No, I mean it’s obviously not...erm”

The dam of your tears burst. 

You were going to miss this place. Even the less appealing aspects of it. You were going to miss the kimbap unnie who greeted you with a hug everyday, also the snooty mandu ahjumma who could hardly stand the sight of you. You were even going to miss washing dishes in the winters with water that was supposed to be ice and the sweltering summers which had you sweating through every layer of clothing. 

Hell, you were even going to miss Kyungsoo.

“No”, you sniffled, “No, no Chef, it’s nothing. Take care of yourself. As much as I’m glad that our fateful working relationship has met its rightful end, I truly, genuinely, wish you luck. And learn to smile more often, yeah?”

“Are you dying?” He gleamed.

“What? NO! What? You’re leaving. What is wrong with you?”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“You! You’re not coming with us to Gangnam!”

“Says who?”

“Your stupid face that looked like it was hit by a freight train when Imo broke the news last week!”

“I’m not leaving?” He mused.

“This is no time to joke, Chef. You are leaving!”

“Says who!”

“Your stu-”

“Stupid face? I wasn’t planning on leaving at all. I’ve even found myself a place close to the restaurant. Oh yeah, sorry for having misled you. It was really just - my stupid face.”

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 6

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing and some fluff

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 4,625

Catch up with Chapter 5

**

Laying in the guestroom of Chris Evans’ rental is one of the few places you’d never pictured yourself being. The décor was very hotel chic which made sense since it was rented out by a private owner with lots of turnaround. Best to keep things neutral rather than themed. The bed was soft and the linens were plush so you could not complain.

It was such a weird feeling to be in his space but not be with him. He was essentially somewhere in the condo and you were here. In a room. Doing your own thing. Or resting, or whatever. He had insisted. Who were you to complain about more sleep? Wasn’t like you could work. Chris confiscated your well used script and laptop once he gave you a brief tour of the place.

“If you’re in such a hurry to get back to work, you have to get better. No sense in tiring yourself out and being sick longer. That’s just more missed days.”

Damn him and his common sense.

You put your phone on the dresser that was located across the room from you before snuggling back on the bed. Out of sight out of mind.

Apparently, you did manage to sleep as your eyes slowly opened to a dark room. It felt colder although you aren’t sure if the temperature in the condo has dropped due to the setting sun or this mystery virus sending a chill to your bones. Either way you’re cold and you realized your error of not packing a sweatshirt. The sweater you had on was warm, but it was thin and not as cozy as you would have liked.

Getting out of bed, you ran your hands through your hair to tame it as best as you could. You shrugged on your coat that you left on the bench in front of the bed and made your way out of the room.

The TV was on ESPN or the like in the distance as you heard a list of scores for some sport or another. If you were being honest, your brain wasn’t all the way there, so you really didn’t care.

“Oh, hey,” Chris said, sitting up from is half laid down position on the couch. His eyebrows and forehead scrunched low in confusion. “You going somewhere?”

“I’m just kind of cold. Should have packed a sweatshirt or two,” you said, taking a seat at the end of the couch, your hands going into your pockets.

Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, walking to the hallway to check the temperature. “It’s seventy-two in here. Want me to bump it up?” he calls out.

“Seventy-two? Would have guessed it’s sixty.” You shake your head even though he can’t actually see you. “No. No, it’s fine.”

He comes back in the room stopping in front of you. Chris’ hand reaches down, hesitant at first, until his palm touches your cheek. Damnit if your breath doesn’t catch in your throat. He removes it quickly, touching your forehead with the back side of the same hand.

“You’re a…,” he licked his lips, taking a deep breath in. “You’re a little warm,” he said withdrawing his hand. “You need a sweatshirt! I’ll grab you one,” he shouted, practically running away.

Chris Evans was going to be the death of you. The two of you are friends but you can’t help but let your mind wander to that space that says maybe there’s something more. But this is your whole life. This is your career. You’re finally making enough money that you can actually put some away. You no longer have to sling beers to make ends meet. It’s a real adult job and now that you’re in your early thirties, it feels like what you need to do. So, what you need to do is stay focused. Besides, this whole feeling could be the fever talking.

Chris is suddenly in front of you again, apparently you had zoned out and didn’t hear him come back in the room.

“Red or blue?” he asked, holding a sweatshirt of each color in his hands.

“Can I see something in green. Perhaps a hooded number.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he chuckled, throwing the blue one at you.

Tugging off your coat, you slip the sweatshirt over your head while you assume Chris is returning the red one to his room. It’s warm and cozy and smells a little like him. Not that you’ve smelt him. You’ve just picked up on his cologne when he’s near you. Yeah, not weird at all.

Tucking your hands inside the sleeves to keep warm, you lift your feet onto the couch in a half laying half sitting position. Chris stops in front of you and gives you a small smile.

“What?” you asked.

“Looks nice on you,” he replied innocently enough.

Think about your fake fiancé, Y/N.

“Well then, I may just keep it,” you shrugged.

He plopped himself down one cushion away from you on the couch, his body bouncing a bit when he landed. “Well, duh. You got your germs all over it.”

**

Clanging noises from the kitchen woke you. Apparently, you had fallen asleep again, you just weren’t sure how long you were asleep. You eased your body off the couch and padded your way into the kitchen.

“Hello sleepy head,” Chris greeted you before turning back to the stove. “I made you some soup. Had to call my ma to get the recipe.”

How is this guy single?

“You called your mother for a soup recipe?” you asked, reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

“Course! You’re sick. Soup always makes me feel bettah.”

“What did you tell your ma?” you asked in the best accent you could muster.

“I told my ma that my friend was sick and I wanted to make her soup,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Do you tell your mother everything?”

“I do. So, watch yourself Y/L/N,” he replied with eyebrows raised, giving the pot another stir. “Go relax. I’ll bring you a bowl in a few minutes.”  

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking back into the living room and taking a seat on the couch.

**

Dinner actually ended up being quite good. Chris knew what he was doing in the kitchen, much to your surprise. You ended up eating two bowls of soup. Skipping lunch and sleeping all day apparently amped up your appetite. The warm broth helped warm your body, even if it was only temporary.

You tried your best to stay awake to visit with Chris. He was telling you stories about his family and from what you could remember, they sounded like a close-knit group. But this darn virus was keeping your energy level at zero. When you had dozed off on him twice, Chris ordered you to bed and you willingly went without complaint. You kept the sweatshirt on. Strictly for the warmth of course.

**

Knocking on the bedroom door woke you the next morning.

“Come in,” your groggy voice called. You were honestly too tired to get out of bed despite all the sleep you managed to get yesterday and overnight.

Chris walked in, sticking close to the door. “How are you feelin’?”

“I’ll live.”

He chuckled at your response.

“What?” you asked, voice coming out a little whiny.

“Just sound so cute,” he shrugged his shoulders. Your mouth dropped open. In shock? In protest? You weren’t sure. “You’re so stuffed up.”

He wasn’t wrong, but still. Cute? Pfft.

“Well, yeah. I’m sick.”

Damn. I really am stuffed up.

“Which is why I called you out for the day,” he said, walking over to the window and opening the blinds.

“Chris…”

“Y/N…”

“I can’t miss again. They’re going to fire me.” You were full on whining now.

“They’re not gonna fire you,” he said crossing his arms over his chest. “They don’t want sick people there especially since you interact with a lot of key people. I already called Monica and she’s fine. Just rest today. I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow if you do.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But I want my script back. At least let me take pictures of my notes to send to Monica. You need all the help you can get,” you sassed.

“Smaht-ass. I do just fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed. “Will you please get me my script? I promise to stay in bed while you’re gone.”

“Tuck that bottom lip away missy. I’ll get your damn script. You want breakfast too?”

You gave him a small smile. “I could eat.”

**

Chris came home in a grumpy mood and you had no idea how to cheer him up. If he was one of your friends back home, you’d be out for drinks, but you were sick. Not to mention, with the amount of cold medicine you were taking, mixing alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea.

After the initial door slam, you came out of your temporary room to see Chris sprawled out on the couch, leaving zero room for you. It was his house, what were you going to say? You took a seat on an upholstered chair across from him, crisscrossing your legs.

When he didn’t say anything after a few minutes, you started. “Bad day of filming?”

He let out a loud breath and ran his open palm down his face. “You could say that.”

“What happened?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can we just watch some TV for a bit?”

“Of course,” you replied. You got up from the chair, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and dropping it on the ground. You eased yourself on it, grinding your butt into it to get comfortable.

“What are you doing?” Chris sighed out.

“We’re watching TV. I’m just getting comfy.”

“Get up here!” he said, sitting up straighter with one bent leg still on the cushion.

You pulled yourself up and settled into the couch, your legs curling up sideways. Your foot touched his and he pulled back.

“Sorry!” you squeaked.

Chris muted the TV and faced you. “No, I’m sorry. Keanu said something to me today and it’s botherin’ me.”

“What did he say?” you asked softly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Chris licked his lips. “He thinks we’re too close. Said I’m too close to you and it’s not right.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked.

You honestly were dumb founded. What a weird thing to say to someone. What did too close mean anyway? You and Chris were friends and co-workers. You were the script supervisor so you worked closely with him daily.

Chris groaned. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s cause you’re engaged.”

“That’s ridiculous.” The fingers of your right hand automatically finding the engagement ring. “I’m allowed to have friends. You’re allowed to be friends with non-single women.”

“Damn right I am,” he said more confidently.

“We’re adults. We’d know if we were crossing lines. Clearly we aren’t.” Chris nodded in agreement. “What brought that on?”

“Monica asked where you were staying. I told her my place and since Keanu was right there, he heard and brought it up to me as we were wrapping for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed out. “If I thought this would have caused problems, I would have made Monica deal with my sick ass.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about his opinion. It just bothers me that he thinks he has a right to interject.”

“Still…I don’t want to cause problems. Maybe I should just head back to the hotel.” You stood up and started to walk to your room. Chris jumped to his feet and was quickly right behind you.

“No. No. No. We aren’t doing that. There’s nothing wrong with you staying here,” he said to the back of your head.

You picked up your bag and put it on the bed. “Chris, it’s probably for the best. I was going back to my room tomorrow anyway.”

You grabbed the change of clothes you stored in the dresser bringing them over to the bed. Chris placed his hand over yours, stopping you from folding up the shirt.

“Just stay. Going is only going to prove his point.”

He was right. Leaving is pretty much admitting you staying there is wrong.

You grabbed on to his hand that was pressing down on yours and turned to face him. “Okay.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

You nodded your head and followed him back out into the living room.

**

Back on set the next few days, Monica avoided you as much as she could. She’d text you from ten feet away to ask a question, despite sharing a room with her at night. It was insane, but if it made her feel better, you’d put up with it. You were feeling 80% better. It was just that stuffy nose that didn’t want to leave your body.

Being around Keanu felt odd all of a sudden. You tried to act as you normally would, sharing a small joke or an anecdote about something you read, but it was hard to feel at ease. Now that you knew he was watching you, you didn’t know how to act around Chris. So, you did what you probably shouldn’t do. You avoided him. Of course, you couldn’t avoid him completely since you were working with him, but when he would find you on set, you brushed him off.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, catching you while on break.

“Better,” you answered simply enough.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Yep.”

This wasn’t going to work. The last thing you needed was the studio catching wind that something funny was going on. But Chris was your friend. Becoming one of your good friends over the last month. There needed to be a middle ground.

A week later you were feeling pretty damn guilty for keeping any conversations with Chris on the professional side. If he found you to chat, you made sure someone else was with you. Often pulling Monica or David into the conversation whether they liked it or not.

Y/N: Can we talk?

Chris: Now you want to talk? Should we text Monica to see if she wants to join us?

Yeah, you deserved that.

Y/N: I’ll bring cookies.

Chris: Where? And only because you’re bringing cookies. None of that sugar cookie crap either.

You decided on the coffee shop you been frequenting since coming to town, making a quick stop at a bakery along the way to pick up a couple of chocolate chip cookies for Chris. You picked out a two-seater table away from a group of college students that seemed to be studying.

Winter made it easier for Chris to blend in, but it was never hard for you to spot him. Not with that smile that always seemed to be on display when he saw you. Dark gray wool coat with the collar popped up, red scarf wrapped around his neck twice, and black shades on his face, he thought he was in disguise. You waved him over as soon as he walked through the door. He quirked his mouth at you, knowing he was easily spied. He held up his finger indicating he was going to grab a drink. You placed the package of cookies in front of the open seat so that they were the first thing he would see.

Chris walked over a few minutes later, removing the coat but keeping the scarf in place.

“Your cookies, sir.”

“I accept your bribery. For now.”

“Thank you. It’s my, “I’m sorry I’ve been an ass” apology,” you replied.

Chris gave you a frown, bringing his to go cup to his lips and taking a hesitant sip.

“I wouldn’t say ass, but…” You took a sip of your own beverage, waiting for him to continue. “Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong because if I’m being honest, I miss my friend.”

Now you really did feel like an ass. The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like he did anything wrong.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…Keanu’s comment really got to me. This is my first film with Stone Lite and if this goes well, my contract gets extended. If Keanu thinks we’re being unprofessional, who knows who else thinks that,” you replied, running your hand through your hair.

Chris nodded his head, a sullen look on his face. “I honestly don’t think they’re going to drop your contract because you and I are close friends.”

You debated about telling him your secret. He probably didn’t know about the studio’s unofficial hiring practices. But would he keep it to himself or would you find yourself without a job? You weren’t sure if this lie was something that was easily forgivable. It was starting to feel like not just a simple lie anymore. You shook your head out of your thoughts and attempted a smile.

“You probably right. I’m just being paranoid,” you said, deciding to keep your secret to yourself. “But maybe we keep our hangouts a little more private?”

Chris chuckled. “That sounds worse!”

You gasped but then chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. “Okay. Okay,” you said between laughs. “Not private, but maybe we dial down our friendship when we’re working. I mean obviously Keanu has a problem with it.”

“I don’t think we are doing anything wrong, but for your sake, I’ll keep our hangouts to myself. Does that work?” he asked, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

You gave him a genuine smile and nodded your head. “Thanks, Chris.

**

Chris and you did dial back a bit on the joking and hanging out on set. Most of your interactions were with other people around. It seemed to do the trick as Keanu and Chris seemed to ease back into their friendly banter and not another word was spoken over the next two weeks.

The small touches that the two of you generally exchanged were now absent and a part of you was missing it. Chris would laugh at something you would say and rest his hand on your forearm or shoulder. Now he’d shove his hand in his pocket or behind his back. When you’d discuss the script with him between takes, his hand rested on the small of your back. Now he’d cross his arms over his chest and leaned in. It was different, but respectful.

Chris no longer came to your cubical unless it were to discuss a scene that would be shot the next day. You missed your impromptu lunches spent at your desk. When the two of you did hangout, it was spent at coffee shops further away from the studio and your hotel. Uber and Lyft became your go to mode of transportation. Since Keanu and Chris lived in the same building for this film, you didn’t go back to Chris’ place much to your disappointment. Sometimes just watching a movie on a comfy couch was a lot better than doing so on your cheap hotel bed alone.

**

Filming was breaking for three nights and most of the crew were going home for the weekend. You were a tad bit excited to have the room all to yourself. You planned to do some sight seeing with your free time. Gastown, Chinatown, and Capilano Suspension Bridge Park despite it being winter were on your list.

Filming wrapped early in the afternoon and those not leaving until the next morning decided going out for dinner was something that should be done as a large group. You reluctantly let Monica drag you with her and two others in a Lyft headed across town to a restaurant that also served as a video game arcade. Your mind instantly went to an arcade with kids running around the space with sticky fingers, but you were pleasantly surprised to see it was an adult’s only atmosphere. Rather than ticket dispensing nonsense games, there were classic arcade machines such as Pac-Man, Ms. Pac-Man, Mortal Combat, and Super Mario Bros.

You weren’t drinking and no amount of peer pressure was going to make you budge. David bought you a drink and you quickly offered it to Lydia, one of the stylists. You grabbed a non-alcoholic drink called raspberry fizz from the bar. It looked like a fancy drink without the regret. The last thing you needed to do was drunkenly talk about your sex life again.

Chris mentioned he was coming tonight as his flight wasn’t until seven the next morning, but you hadn’t spotted him yet. Keanu was staying in town over the short break; his girlfriend Alexandra had already arrived in town for a visit. He had mentioned they wouldn’t be joining the group for dinner, but they would be by for a drink later.

Everyone sat down to order, deciding that game playing could wait until after dinner. Twenty minutes in to appetizers and conversation, Chris walked in with Maggie. They sat together at the far end of the table from you, where the only available seats were located. They looked cozy sitting close together, sharing whispers, and laughs. A small pang of jealous hit your heart. It was unexpected and for a moment you regretted not having an actual drink. He hadn’t mentioned anything between the two of them to you, but you knew of her crush on him. Besides, the two of you never really discussed your love lives besides the initial questions about Travis when you and Chris first started to get to know each other. Chris saw you starring in his direction and gave you a wave. You gave him a small smile and nodded your head before turning away. Next to you, Lydia’s in a conversation with Tim, one of the other actors, and you do your best to join in.

Your co-workers are drunk and with Chris wrapped up conversation with others, not to mention Maggie by his side most of the night, you’re ready to go back to the hotel. You bring up the Uber app on your phone and request a car. You look for David and find him in an intense game of air hockey. After he scores a point, you pull him into a side hug to say goodnight.

“You taking off already? I owe you another drink.”

“Give it to Monica. I’m good for the night. Say hi to the wife for me,” you replied as you backed away.

“Will do! See you next week,” David called a little too loudly. You were sure it was because the large number of beers he had already consumed.  

You found your coat still hanging from the back of your chair at the table. You slipped it on and waved goodbye to Monica who only lifted her glass to you. You’re half way through the door when someone grasped your mitten covered wrist. Turning around, you were met with the blue eyes of Chris.

“Where are you goin’? Don’t talk to me all night and now you’re sneaking off?”

You allow him to pull you back into the warmth of the restaurant, checking your phone for the car with your free hand. Surprisingly Maggie isn’t next to him. You’re pretty sure it’s the first time she hasn’t been all night.

“I’m not sneakin’ off. You were busy,” you shrug a shoulder.

Chris stops pulling you once you reach your groups table, sitting down and starring up at you as you stand.

“Take a seat. Please.” You sigh but do as he asked. “I wasn’t busy. Always have time for you. Besides, I wanted to say goodbye since I won’t see you for a few days.”

“You looked pretty busy with Maggie tonight. Didn’t realize you guys were so close.” You couldn’t help yourself. You sounded pretty damn jealous and you would be over analyzing your words all night.

Chris scrunches up his whole face and blinks slowly once and then again. “With Maggie? She’s just a friend. Barely a friend. She needed a ride.”

“Well, Maggie thinks you’re hot. So…” You weren’t even drinking tonight so you had no excuse for your loose lips.

“That’s nice. But she’s a kid,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Not interested.”

“Okay then!” you replied a little too loudly. You take a peek at your phone and see that your car is here. You stand up quickly and hug him while he’s still seated. “My car is here. Gotta go!” Before he can even hug you back, your feet are moving. “Have a good few days back home!”

Chris texted as soon as you got into the car.

Chris: Well, goodbye to you too.

Chris: 😢😡

Y/N: I’m sorry! My Uber was here.

Chris: Trust me, there’s nothing going on with Maggie.

Y/N: It’s not my business. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Y/N: Safe travels!

Chris: Quit being a weirdo

Y/N: It’s all I know

Chris: That’s true. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Chris: Text me when you get back to your room.

Y/N: I will

**

The three days you had off were over far too quickly, although you did manage to hit the three tourist spots on your list. You also found a great Chinese restaurant that you wanted to eat at again a couple of more times before you wrapped in three weeks.

This week you were on night shoots again. The studio had rented out a book store and restaurant in a smaller town outside of Vancouver. Even though these were mainly interior scenes, both businesses needed to be closed in order to film.

Chris had wanted to grab coffee earlier in the day, but you and Monica had to be at the studio to meet with Hugh and his assistant to go over the two scenes filming tonight. Chris had been pretty quiet during his time off; you were pretty sure he was feeling guilty for his lack contact.

Monica and you had arrived early at the location to get situated and to match up the script with the interior of the restaurant. You were helping with wrangling the ten or so extras when Chris arrived already dressed for his scene.

“Welcome back to Canada,” you said walking up to him, Chris giving you a big grin. “Did you have a nice trip back home?”

“Always a good time when I’m home sweetheart. How about you?”

“Yep. Checked out Gastown and a couple of other places. It was nice to explore.”

“How’d Travis like it? First time here for him, right?” Chris asked.

You gave him a questioning look. “Travis wasn’t here.”

His eyebrows raised high on his head. “He wasn’t here? I thought that’s why you weren’t going home because he was comin’ here.”

“No, ah, he was working,” you quickly said.

Fuck! Why hadn’t I thought of that. Oh yeah, because you don’t actually have a freaking fiancé!

“He never visited you on set in LA, hasn’t visited here, you didn’t go home. Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course, I do, Chris,” you sighed. “It’s just hard when we’re both working. But, uh, he’s coming to visit for a couple of days next week.”

Why did I say that?!

Chris slapped a hand down on your shoulder. “That’s great! Look forward to meeting him.”

You gave him a smile and pointed back to the group of extras with your thumb before turning away from him. Grabbing your phone out of your back pocket, you quickly typed out a text to Travis as you walked away.

Y/N: I need a favor.

Chapter 7

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