#even the Florence one and i fuckin LOVE Florence

[fandomfloozy]

Not to be a swiftie on main: but North West has the chance to do the funniest thing of all time after thanK you aIMee

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

from scratch | chef luca x oc

Summary: Emily Tyler had to completely start over nearly three years ago. She got fired from her job as a sous chef in New York, had to move back in with her mother in Chicago, and the father of her unborn child was a complete asshole. Now she is a private chef for a wealthy family, has her own apartment, and her little boy Henry is the most precious thing in the world to her. But what about her love life? (wc: 10840)

Warnings: single mom!oc, inaccurate cooking and chef world things, food and eating mention, language, i gave luca a last name, SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI (f oral receiving, chef luca king of pussy eating, possibly too many eating metaphors, pinv, use a condom unlike these dummies, Big Boy Luca)

✎……welcome back will poulter phase it's good to see you 🫡 um yeah there's prolly gonna be more of this oops

The only time Emily ever felt truly relaxed was when she was cooking. It was like making art — only this art could be tasted and enjoyed by so many. Who didn’t like to eat? Who didn’t find some comfort in sitting around a table with friends and enjoying some food? If the preparation was the part she liked the most, watching the looks on people’s faces as they took the first bite had to be a close second.

As she cut the gnocchi with the pasta spatula she bought in Florence over five years ago, the ring of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Setting the tool down, she wiped her hands clean of flour before jogging down the entry hall to answer the door. She knew who was there, there was no need to look at the keypad next to the door showing the live feed of the front stoop.

“Hey, Carmy, how’s it goin’?” she asked with a smile as he stepped inside.

He looked just the same as always. Shorter, stalky, covered in tattoos, curly hair falling in his eyes. He smelled like cigarettes — no doubt having smoked one just before he came inside. She always hated that he did that, but he never listened when she advised him to quit. 

“I’m gonna die sometime anyway.”

It made her shake her head even now before pulling him in for a hug.

“S’good, s’good,” he sighed as he patted her on the back, then he pulled away with a look of awe on his face. “This is where you work?”

Emily turned to look into the house as well. She had gotten used to the sight over the past two years. The grand staircase, the baby grand piano sitting perfectly polished in the entry hall, the crown molding, and vaulted ceilings. She remembered that she couldn’t help but gawk in her first few weeks. Now it was like any other house to her. Even if there were ten bedrooms, two kitchens, and an entire wine cellar.

She started making her way back to the kitchen and Carmy trailed after her hesitantly, hands shoved into his back pockets like he was afraid to touch anything. And she really couldn’t blame him.

“Yep, this is it,” she responded. “He owns three businesses here in Chicago and two in Indianapolis — and now he’s running for congress. He bought this place five years ago and completely redid it.”

“Fuckin’ insane,” Carmy muttered under his breath, eyes darting all over the kitchen. With its black and white marble countertops, flat white cabinetry, and beautiful gas-burning stove. It was a home chef's dream. “And the wife doesn’t even work?”

She went to the other side of the island and went back to her work on the gnocchi. She laughed, “Nope. She’s at some mommy and me yoga class right now with their youngest.”

He watched her work for a minute. Her hands moved swiftly and accurately as she rolled out the little balls of dough and pressed them with a fork to get that signature shape. It was just like back when they worked in New York. Like nothing had ever changed. 

Only everything had changed.

“H-How’re things goin’ here?” he finally asked, setting himself gently down on one of the barstools pulled up at the island.

“Good. The whole…Private chef thing is workin’ out well despite what you said,” she replied, glancing up at him through her lashes.

Carmy’s face pinched. “Wh-What did I say?”

“That the private sector is where good chefs go to die.” Emily smirked as she scooped up the gnocchi and placed it in the pot she had waiting.

“Ah,” he huffed, resting his arms on the marble and fiddling with his fingers. “This…This seems like a good gig.”

“The hours are still shit but I get paid way better than any restaurant I ever worked at, so…I’ll take it.” Emily snorted as she began working on the next batch of gnocchi. “They actually just asked me to move into the place above the garage. Said it would be easier for everyone while John’s working on the campaign.”

“No shit?”

She shrugged. “They’re crazy rich people.”

“You considering it?”

“Maybe. It’s nicer than my apartment now. Way nicer.”

Carmy made some noise like he understood and they fell into silence while he watched her work. She was slower now than she was when they worked at Empire. She took her time and made sure every gnocchi was handled with care. He supposed that was what happened when you only had to cook for one family instead of dozens of diners every night. When you weren’t being yelled at or bullied or told you were worthless. He asked quietly what she was making like it might disturb the process. She had a small smile on her face when she described her play on steak and potatoes. Potato gnocchi, steak cooked in herbs and butter, button mushrooms, and fennel. HE wished he could try some. Emily finished the gnocchi and wiped off her hands.

“So, uh…What’re you doin’ back in Chicago?” she asked with a small smile as she leaned on the island across from him.

It was like Carmy stared straight through her as he said, “Mikey died.”

“Oh, fuck.” The smile instantly dropped from her face. “I’m so sorry, Carmy.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine. He uh…He left me the restaurant, so…”

Her brows furrowed. “The beef place?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Emily looked at him in that way he always hated but craved. In that way like she cared. In that way like she would genuinely do anything for him at that moment. She always had understood him. Even when they were in high school together. Even when she came over to his house and had to stand there and watch as his mom lost her mind on him. Even when she saw the worst of him in New York. Even when he did nothing when she got fired.

And Carmen looked right back in that way she knew so well. In that way she knew he was ignoring it. In that way she knew things were shit but she wouldn’t push. In that way she was like the sun he could barely look at. Her family had known the Berzattos since before she was born. How could she not understand him in some almost complete way?

“Do you need anything?” she asked gently.

He licked his lips before he replied. “Yeah, I — I want you to come be my Chef de Cuisine.”

Her expression instantly changed to one that screamed really? Brows furrowed over her blue eyes and her lips downturned on one side. He knew that expression well too. It nearly made him laugh.

“Your CDC? At the…Beef shop?” she questioned.

“I’m thinking about gutting the place,” he said, sitting forward in his seat. “Turning it into something high end. Classic. My own restaurant.”

“Do you have the money for that?”

“Not yet. Maybe in a few years.” 

“Carmy, I love you…” She trailed off and sighed, ringing her hands in the fabric of her yellow apron. “But no.”

“Em, come on, you’re a fuckin’ great chef. Creative, organized, patient. I never understood why Empire let you go. I mean there was that honey incident but that was an accident —”

“Carm, Carm.” He stopped talking and looked up at her with raised brows. “I didn’t get fired because I got honey everywhere and people’s shoes were sticky for a month. And I didn’t get fired because I took some liberty with the recipes either.”

He shrugged. “Then what was it?”

“I was fired because I got pregnant.”

“The fuck?” he was instant in his reply, sitting up straighter in his seat with his face pinched in anger. “What the fuck?”

Emily sighed as she moved over to the fridge to get out the mushrooms for cleaning and cutting. “He who shall not be named, when I told him, said I wouldn’t be as dedicated so he told me to pack my knives and go.”

“What the fuck?” Carmy repeated.

“Yeah,” she sighed again, taking the mushrooms to the sink. “It was for the best. My mom’s here and I found this job…Lets me be with him more.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Henry.” She smiled, showing all her teeth, when she said her son’s name. 

Carmy had seen pictures. He never had thought much about kids but Emily’s was cute. Curly blond hair like his mom, big brown eyes, and dimples on his cheeks. He was curious and, from pictures he had seen, loved to help in the kitchen. Had been helping cut fruit and making sauces since he could hold a spoon. There was a video of him making pizza that he had to show the entire staff of Empire at least three times.

Another silence filled the space between them. Carmy’s eyes were trained on her as she cut the mushrooms from their stems but his mind lost somewhere else.

Then he suddenly muttered, “I still think you’d make a great CDC.”

Emily chuckled. “I appreciate that, but my answer is still no.”

“I thought working in a restaurant was your dream?”

“It was, when I was younger and had no responsibility except myself,” she answered, “I don’t have the freedom to take that kind of risk anymore. I have Henry to take care of. Restaurants have always been risky business and this job is stable. They pay me way more than they probably should and have offered me a place to live for free. I can’t…I can’t give that up.”

More silence. Filled by the soft fump fump of mushrooms landing in the saucepan as they were cut. That was another thing about Emily. She never beat around the bush, she never softened the blow, she never gave any room in an argument. Soft but hard. Kind but stern. It was something Carmy had needed in New York. Back when he thought he was the shit but he was miserable. Back when everything was falling into place but he still felt empty. And then she left…And it was even more empty than before.

“I understand,” he said, quietly. 

She cut her eyes over at him from her spot at the sink. “You do?”

“It’s a good gig. The beef…It could all fall to shit.”

“Thanks, Carm,” she smiled, then added, “If you ever need my help though, just let me know.”

Emily walked into The Bear kitchen with her knife bag thrown over her shoulder to complete and utter chaos. 

Richie was banging on the walk-in door handle with a hammer, yelling about how he was going to get someone out of there. Three chefs were still trying to make food but were clearly behind. Dishes were piled up yet clearly missing elements. All the while the CDC was still trying to call out orders and call for hands amidst the screaming from Richie and the loud banging of the hammer on the metal door.

It was the most chaotic kitchen she had ever seen. And she didn’t expect anything less from Carmen Berzatto.

She knew at least part of what happened from the very loud call she had received not twenty minutes ago. The Bear was opening that night and one of their line cooks had suddenly been fired. She wasn’t about to ask why. All she knew was that Carmy needed her help and that she could give it. So, with her mother there to watch Henry, she left her client’s house wearing a chef’s coat for the first time in nearly three years.

“Cousin! Hey!” Richie yelled when he spotted her standing just inside the back door.

Emily waved with a tight smile, unsure what the hell she was getting herself into.

“A-Are you Emily Tyler?” the CDC called out from the stand.

She walked further into the kitchen with a nod. “Yeah, I am. Where do you need me?”

“On the line. Tina will fill you in.”

Tina was a small, older woman with short curly hair. She had a motherly air about her and seemed calm enough despite the disarray. Emily quickly went to the empty station and unrolled her knife bag. Tina flashed her a smile but got right to business, telling her what to cook and how to plate the dish that was her responsibility. It felt like getting back onto a bicycle for the first time in over a decade. Did she even remember how to do this? Did she remember what the CDC’s calls would mean? Would she be able to handle the pressure? But it was just like getting back on a bike. She remembered just what to do. It felt like second nature to start the dish and get it together.

“Where’s Carmy?” she asked the pastry chef as she put together a sauce by his station.

He glanced at the walk in while fiddling with some needles. “Locked in there.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Halfway through service, she glanced up at the clock. Just beneath it, there was a corkboard hung up. And on a crumpled piece of paper there was her number and clearly Carmy’s handwriting that said: 

If we ever need help, call Emily.

It made her smile.

“So did Carm tell you why he wanted you to stage with me today?” Emily asked lightly as she tied her apron around her waist.

Sydney, the CDC of The Bear, stood beside her behind her client’s kitchen island also wearing an apron. She looked unsure as she tied her hair back with a multicolored silk scarf. But she also looked tired — and for good reason. It was five in the morning. The sun hadn’t even come out yet, the birds weren’t even singing. The large house was quiet and still. All of the lights dimmed save for the kitchen and breakfast nook.

Just another price paid for being a private chef. An absolutely absurd call time to get breakfast on the table before John had to be at work and Cindy had to be…Wherever she was going that day.

Emily had been in the kitchen long before Sydney had arrived. The kids had requested her homemade bread with the dish she was making that morning and she really was a sucker for their puppy dog eyes. So the rustic loaf was already in the oven and close to being ready.

Sydney sighed. “Not explicitly. He just said you were good at making up dishes.”

“Oh, God,” Emily laughed as she opened the fridge and pulled out the ingredients she needed for the breakfast she wanted to cook. “Well, he picked a good day I guess. John is hosting a dinner tonight for the biggest donors for his campaign. He told me to go all out.”

“What’re you making?”

“Salmon Wellington,” she replied with a knowing smile.

Sydney guffaued. “What? How does that even work?”

“Listen, I tried it once years ago when I was working at Ever. The first dish I ever put out there. Andrea Terry called it ridiculous but it stayed on the menu for a few months.” Emily began to chop up the peppers and then pointed with her elbow towards the large tomato out on the counter. “Since you’re here — could you dice that for me?”

She got straight to work, pulling the proper knife from her bag and beginning to cut the tomato easily. They worked in silence for a while. Once the peppers and tomatoes were cut, Emily threw them into a pan with oil and butter. The combination was mashed once it was cooked down and eggs were added into the pan. The eggs were cooked until just done and then Emily added hunks of feta cheese to the top and let them melt.

“That smells amazing,” Sydney added as Emily cracked fresh pepper on top as well as some red pepper flakes.

“Thanks,” she smiled over at her. “This is a recipe I learned in Turkey. Menemen. I ate it almost every day I was there.”

“When did you go to Turkey?” Sydney asked as the timer for the bread went off. 

“After I stopped working at Ever but before I worked for Empire,” Emily sighed, pulling the loaf out by the end of her apron. “One of the best years of my life. I traveled all over Europe. Learned from some of the best in the world.”

“What made you come back to work at Empire?”

Emily looked over at her with a smile as she tapped the bottom of the bread to make sure it was done. “Carmy. He called. Said he got CDC and wanted me on his team.”

“Carmen? Seriously? You dropped everything just because he called?” Sydney scoffed.

“Yeah, I did. It’s Carmy. We’ve…Known each other since we were kids. He’s the one who introduced me to cooking. I would do anything for him.” Emily looked down at her watch. “Now get the jams and juices out of the fridge, please. They’re gonna be down here in like ten minutes.”

They worked quietly. Sydney set the table while Emily finished up with the bread and Menemen. Eventually, the entire spread was set out on the table, just before the Yotter family came down the stairs to enjoy it. They all said their thanks to their two chefs before they disappeared back into the kitchen where Emily broke out a diet Coke and a bit of cottage cheese for herself.

“It’s seven in the morning,” Sydney commented with a grin about her drink of choice. 

Emily sighed. “Sure is.”

“I gotta know. Did you and Carm ever…Ya know?”

Emily nearly choked on her Coke. She coughed and spluttered and thumped her first into her chest. All while shaking her head. 

“No. God, no.”

“Okay, okay, okay — just checking,” Sydney said with a smile.

They moved through the rest of Emily’s typical day. Tending to the garden in the courtyard. It used to be just a patch of grass, but after the Yotters had tasted the fresh produce from the farmers' market, they wanted the stuff as readily available as possible. And gave Emily the free reign to grow whatever she wanted. Herbs, peppers of all varieties, squash, tomatoes, and berries. 

Going grocery shopping for dinner that night. Buying fresh salmon, savoy cabbage,  shrimp for a pâté, beurre blanc, salmon caviar, and Robuchon potatoes. Sydney could picture the entire dish in her mind and worried whether or not they would be able to pull it off. But Emily seemed calm as a cucumber, even going so far as to pick up flowers for a centerpiece at the table. Sydney wished she could be like that when it came to making a dish. Wished she wouldn’t overthink every little detail or 

Visiting her son Henry at her apartment where he was being watched by her mother over the lunch break. He screamed with joy as soon as his mom opened the door, running as fast as his little legs would take him so he could get to her faster. Emily laughed as she scooped up her son, peppering his face with kisses and listening to him giggle. They had mac and cheese with hotdogs and peas for lunch. The eating life of a chef. Just bought caviar but they’re having box mac and cheese for lunch.

“How did you…Do it?” Sydney asked as they say at the dining table, watching Henry play.

Emily looked over at her. “Do what?”

“Have this job and take care of a baby?”

It made Emily laugh softly as she turned back to her son. A thousand memories rushed through her mind. Being exhausted down to the bone. Henry screaming for hours. Her milk drying up from the stress and having to switch to formula. Feeling like a terrible mother. Not knowing how anything was going to work out. She could nearly feel the tiredness of that time creeping back in as she sat at her dining room table. Nearly a year removed from the worst of it. 

Now she didn’t have to cook lunch for them. Now she had Sundays as a half-day and Tuesdays completely off. Now her mother was able to watch Henry instead of paying almost all of her salary for daycare. Now her life as a single mother was finally falling into place instead of completely falling apart.

She looked back to Sydney with another, smaller, smile. “I honestly have no fucking idea.”

When they got back to the Yotter residence they needed to start the prep for the dinner. Deboning and skinning the fish, making the pastry dough, all of the mise en place that needed to happen. Emily was more than happy to have the help. There were going to be ten people at that dinner and usually by this point she would be a giant ball of stress. But with Sydney’s help, she felt at least slightly more calm.

Nearing the end of the day, when the Wellington was only a few minutes away from coming out of the oven and the guests had already been served the soup course, Emily looked to The Bear’s CDC and smiled. 

“There’s honestly no way to become great at coming up with dishes,” she said, “It takes years upon years of trial and error. Knowing what would go well with something. Experimenting and failing miserably. But you can’t give up…Even though you might want to with Carmy around.”

Sydney cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Carm is…He’s the best. Gifted. It’s really easy to feel like you can’t do shit around him.”

“I —”

“Just trust your gut and tell him to fuck off every once and a while.”

Sydney sighed with a grin like some weight was being lifted from her shoulders. The timer went off. The Wellington was ready. And only a couple minutes later did they hear, all the way in the kitchen as they prepared dessert, that all the guests thought it was amazing.

Emily got the call about Ever closing its doors when she was home for lunch. Of course, she felt her heart sink at the restaurant closing and people losing their jobs — but she also felt glad for Chef Terry. She was a hardworking woman, and a brilliant chef, but owning a restaurant was hard work. Stressful. All consuming. Emily understood, maybe more than some, the relief Terry must feel at being free from what she had worked for all of her life.

So, of course, she accepted the invitation to Ever’s farewell dinner. She bought a new dress. Finally got a curling iron. Her mother even offered to watch Henry at her place so she didn’t feel guilty about staying out late or getting some well-deserved rest.

But when she stood outside the restaurant doors that Friday night, she felt like she didn’t belong. 

She was freezing, and her coat felt like it was doing nothing to stave off the chill. Didn’t help that she had no layers underneath the wool. Just her satin, olive green dress. Nearly felt like she was naked standing in the middle of Chicago, shaking in her platform boots.

Everyone in there was going to be working in a restaurant. Or owning a restaurant. Executive chefs. CDCs. While she was just a private chef. No James Beards. No spots in Food & Wine. Just somebody who cooked for a wannabe politician and his wife who couldn’t be bothered to work or be a homemaker.

She shouldn’t go in there. She would just embarrass herself when she was asked what she was doing these days. Three years ago, she was an up-and-comer. Carmy’s right-hand woman. A brilliant culinary mind that, if put to enough practice, would have made it big. But instead, she got pregnant. Decided to keep it. And faded away into nothing. No one. 

What was she even doing there? Standing outside the restaurant where she was told she was a great chef — where she worked tirelessly day and night to be worth something to anyone. 

Now she was nothing to no one.

Emily took one step back away from the door.

“Are you going inside?” a voice asked from down the sidewalk.

The voice had a deep timbre, lilted by a British accent. It made Emily jump as she looked over wide-eyed at whoever spoke. He was smiling slightly, hands raised at his sides like he was approaching a wild animal. He wore black pants and a coat, wavy hair streaked in blond cut in almost a mohawk.

She knew him. 

He worked as a line cook at Ever when she came in as a commis. They only overlapped for a few weeks but she remembered. Remembered that she thought he was attractive but never made a move. In fact, they never even really spoke to one another save for him telling her he needed more of something for a dish. But she still got invited to his farewell party when he went to work at Noma in Copenhagen. 

If only she could remember his name.

She nearly hated that she thought he was still attractive now. Maybe even more so — somehow, despite not having changed much. He took a few steps closer and she reddened to realise she hadn’t said anything yet.

“Y-Yeah, I’m just…” Emily looked back at the front door and tucked her lips between her teeth apprehensively.

“Petrified?” he offered as he stepped up beside her.

She chuckled softly. “You could say that.”

“Me too,” he sighed.

Emily looked over at him with raised brows. “Really? Why?”

“Some of the best chefs have come out of Ever or are friends with Andrea Terry. And they’re all gonna be in there.” He pointed at the door and she got a glimpse of the bell pepper tattooed on his hand. “Fucking horrifying.”

“Do you wanna…Go in together? There’s strength in numbers,” she suggested with a small smile.

He grinned back, showing nearly all his teeth. It lit up his entire face almost too bright for her to look at. God damn it, what was his name? It was on the tip of her tongue. Something with an L? He probably remembered hers and she’s just the dick who forgot. 

“Let’s do it,” he said as he took the few steps towards the door and opened it for her. And as she passed by him he asked, “Wha-What’s your name again?”

Some relief flooded her at the mutual forgetfulness. “Emily — Tyler. We worked here at the same time for a few weeks, actually.”

“No shit? God, can’t believe I don’t remember working with you.” There was something unspoken there in the way he looked at her as they paused beneath the dried fruit and other assorted items hanging from the ceiling. He stuck out his tattooed hand to her. “Luca D’Arcy.”

“Nice to meet you.” She grinned up at him as they shook hands.

Luca’s blue eyes glinted in the dim lighting as they caught on the decorations above them. “Just like it was back then, huh?”

“This one was always my favorite.” 

She reached up and lightly touched the ball of what looked like cotton candy. Just beside his head. He looked over at it with a crooked smile. 

“Excellent choice,” he said. 

Humming lightly with pursed lips, Emily walked further into the dining room. There were already about a dozen people scattered about. Standing with glasses of wine or champagne — chatting about food and restaurants and travels and spouses and children. Everyone was finely dressed and looked like they popped right out their articles in the Chronicle or New York Times or the Michelin Guide. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked out at the sea of famous culinary faces. She was nobody in this room of somebodies. She was even sure Luca had gone on to do amazing things with his talent.

Her breath shook slightly as one of the staff took her coat and gave her a ticket for it. Luca had his coat taken as well, only to reveal his rolled-up sleeves and tattooed arms. A cap, a merman, a nurse, a stick-figure walking up stairs, the Roman numeral four, a rowboat. Random and weird and she wanted to know the story behind every single one.

“Strength in numbers, remember?” Luca spoke low with a wink thrown her way. 

It made her smile but it also made her heart pound even harder.

They ordered drinks. A white wine and a champagne. While they waited, they looked through the picture collage out in the entry hall. Emily laughed and recounted the memory of the day a bag of flour ripped on the shelf above her head in the pantry and it got all over her. There was picture proof to prove it. And Luca told the story about how he cut off the tip of his finger, nail and all, just before service. He had to wear a glove the rest of the time and get it sewn back on the next morning.

“So, what are you doing now?” she asked, drinks finally in hand and standing off in a corner of the dining room alone. 

She knew the question would be asked back. But if it was from him she didn’t really care. 

“Still at Noma, actually,” he replied after taking a sip of his wine. “Finally figured out what I actually want to cook.”

“And what’s that?”

“Dessert.”

“Oo, a pastry chef, nice!” She laughed and he did too. “De Partie or Sous?”

Luca pumped his brows once. “Sous.” 

“Oh, damn, okay, chef,” she joked for a second then reached out and patted his arm. “That’s amazing, though. Figuring that shit out is so important.”

“Yeah, I mean, the people at Noma have been so great at helping me grow.” He nodded and sipped some more of his wine. “What about you — what’re you doing?”

Emily looked away from him and decided to stare at the painting on the wall behind him instead. She knew he was going to ask. Part of her thought that maybe he would understand her life choices. But what if she was wrong? What if he told her, like any other chef she had spoken to in the past three years, that she just needed to take the risk? That she just needed to get back into the restaurant game. That she was just wasting her potential. 

When she sighed and finally decided to look back at him, he was looking at her with furrowed brows. Concerned and patient. It nearly made her ribs crack.

“I’m…I’m a private chef now,” she spoke quietly just in case someone else might hear. “Work here in Chicago. Keeps me cooking but ya know…Keeps me sane.” 

She decided not to mention anything about Henry. Even though she very well could have or maybe should have. But tonight was her night to be selfish, as her mother even told her as she went out the door. Tonight she was talking to a cute guy she used to work with. Tonight she wasn’t a single mom who hadn’t had a date in three years. What Luca didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him anyway.

The pinch of his brow released at her words. Eyebrows ticked up his forehead like she just said the most interesting thing in the universe. He took another sip of his wine while she took a gulp of her own drink in an attempt to calm her nerves. 

“Private,” he said, “I’ve always wondered about that. What’s a typical day like?”

He wasn’t disappointed. He wasn’t questioning her decision. He was just genuinely curious about the job. It made her heart soar, feeling lighter than she had all evening as he looked at her with a quirk of his lips and his hand in his pants pocket. So she described a day in the life. Four o’clock wake up time, lunch break, gardening, grocery shopping, meal planning, almost event planning.

“And their house is literally insane. Like, baby grand piano in the entryway insane. They even have a separate apartment above their garage with a full kitchen and two bedrooms.”

“Fuck me,” Luca groaned with a grin. “That honestly sounds amazing, Em. Good for you.”

Em. Nearly everyone in her life called her that. Everyone who knew her for more than ten minutes called her that. But when Luca did it? It made something inside of her flutter. Butterflies or moths or something else with wings that were threatening to escape. And they partially succeeded in the way she looked up at him with a massive grin she couldn’t control and inched ever so closer to him without even really noticing. 

He didn’t seem to mind, however. In fact, he seemed to be of the same accord as he pulled himself off the wall to be nearer to her. For her to smell his cologne and the slight hint of wine on him. 

But then he spotted someone over her shoulder and he excused himself with about three different apologies. She told him not to worry and watched him go, seeing Carmy standing out in the hall looking at the collages. 

There really was strength in numbers. She felt alone in a room full of people without him. Not seeing anyone else she knew, she sat down at a table tucked against the wall.

So many days and nights were spent in that restaurant. Doing mise en place, cleaning, eating family meals, goofing around with friends, making mistakes, learning new things, and garnering an entirely new love for food. Ever was her very first fine dining job. Andrea Terry was her very first mentor in how to create a true eating experience. It made her heart heavy to think that after that night there would be no more mise en place, no more cleaning, no more family meals for this restaurant. Ever was done. She was thankful for the place, despite her attempts to block out the memories because they made her bitter. Thankful for it all.

“Emily Tyler,” a voice spoke from across the table. 

There was a self-assured air about the voice. She looked up, startled. Only for her face to fall at the sight of David Fields.

“Chef,” she responded, quiet and small, with a nod.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Thought you would be…I don’t know…Making sandwiches for the hubby or something.” Fields grinned at her, wicked and cruel.

“Nope.” She knew if she said anymore it would just encourage him.

“But, seriously, I heard you’re a private chef now.” He sat down in the chair across from her and she had to resist everything in her body not to groan. “So what’s it like to throw away all your potential?”

Emily glared as hard as she could, but he didn’t even blink. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me? For what? I’m not the one who gave up.”

“You are the one who fired me — for a piece of shit reason, by the way,” she scoffed, crossing her arms.

Fields shook his head. “You need to be dedicated in my kitchen. You couldn’t have been with a kid.”

“Fuck you,” she repeated.

“Is that all you can say?”

“It’s all I’ve wanted to say for three years.” She shrugged, eyes focused on the little candle on the table between them. “I…I was scared, okay? And I stupidly came to you because — because I looked up to you and thought that maybe you could…Help.

Fields’ face softened for the first time.

“Couldn’t tell Carmy 'cause he’s — fucking Carmy. My mom probably would have lost her shit if I told her over the phone. And I thought…I thought you gave even an iota of a shit about me, so I came to you when I didn’t know what else to do, and you fucking fired me. So yeah…Fuck you.”

Some understanding passed between them then. Some pent-up confusion and rage and hurt went up like smoke as Fields nodded and sucked his teeth. He didn’t say he was sorry. And really he didn’t need to. It was enough for him to know how she felt.

Then he got up from the chair and straightened out his jacket. “Have a good rest of your night, chef.”

And she watched him go with tears burning the backs of her eyes. But she refused to let them fall. Blinking them away hard as she twirled the stem of her half-full champagne glass between her fingers. She had imagined that conversation with her old boss too many times for her to count. Sometimes she imagined punching him in the face. Other times she imagined him begging for her forgiveness. But this, what happened at that table, was what she expected. At least she no longer had to picture it. Now it was over and done. She nearly felt free.

Luca sat down beside her with a smile. “They’re about to bring out the first course. You alright?”

He looked concerned again, searching her face for something she hoped wasn’t there to begin with. Sniffing back the last of her tears she smiled with a nod. 

“I’m good. I’m good. Just thinking.” She watched him settle into his seat, legs spread so wide his thigh nearly touched her own. “You don’t…Have to sit here you know. I’m sure there are far more interesting people to talk to here tonight.”

“None as interesting as you.”

He looked at her like he knew that was smooth. And he was right. She felt her cheeks burn as she looked down into her lap.

“Good Lord,” she muttered, hands reaching up to cover her red cheeks.

She heard Luca chuckle from beside her as he leaned in close. “Did it work?”

“Yes, it worked,” she whispered, catching a glimpse of him with a grin between her fingers.

“Come on, now, peach, don’t hide,” he spoke low and sweet in her ear, taking her wrist in his large hand and pulling it away from her face. “Lemme see how cute you look.”

Peach. No one had ever called her that before. And she didn’t know why, but she liked it. Liked the way it made something tingle between her legs. Liked the way he looked at her when he said it. Like she really was the most interesting person in the room. Like he didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Like she was a summer peach sweet and ripe for the taking.

Luca didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he took it and began to fiddle with the turquoise set ring she wore on her middle finger for a moment. Adjusting the way it sat. Then he set it down gently in her lap. 

“Do you do this with all the girls?” she asked, almost sounding like she was out of breath.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. I — actually this is the first time I’ve done this in a long time. Been too focused on my career for all that love and dating stuff.”

“Been a long time for me too,” Emily answered, “Don’t even think I remember how.”

“I’d say you’re off to a pretty good start, peach.”

A few more chefs joined their table. Their conversation was interrupted by greetings, introductions, and handshakes. A few minutes later, Carmy and Sydney joined them. Emily of course hugged them both. Then the table talk started as the first course was brought to their table. About first dishes and when people knew they wanted to be a chef and funny stories from the kitchens everyone had worked in over the years. 

And Emily felt like she belonged among them. Among these accomplished chefs who owned restaurants and published cookbooks. Who tried and failed just like her. Who didn’t judge when she said she was a private chef. Who asked her about her time in the professional kitchen and even remembered some of the dishes she created.

All the while, Luca’s chair had somehow scooted closer and closer to her own. Somehow his thigh became pressed against her own — only a few layers of silk and wool between them. It made her skin feel like she had just been freshly sunburned. Tingly and alive and warm. He caught her eye from time to time. Over the rim of his wine glass. Around the fork in his mouth. It was always some knowing look like they shared some secret. 

And maybe they did.

Then she noticed that Carmy had barely said anything all evening. That he hadn’t even really touched his food — even though it was beautiful and delicious. 

Leaning over so she could look at him past Sydney she asked, “You okay, Carm?”

“Yeah, who are you staring at?” Luca chimed in.

“Just a fucking asshole over there,” Carmy replied, nodding his head at the other side of the room.

Emily looked, and there was the executive chef of Empire sipping on his wine.

“David Fields,” Luca sighed.

“Oh, shit, from Empire?” Sydney looked over at Emily and she nodded.

Luca leaned back in his seat, arm thrown over the back of Emily’s chair. “Yeah, he’s a dickhead.”

“Yeah, he’s the fucking worst — and one of the best chefs in the world,” Carmy went on, eyes laser focused on his former boss across the room. “Total prick. Fuckface. Bastard. Made me very, probably, mentally ill. Dead inside. Cold. Never turns it off. Accomplishes more by ten AM than most people do in a lifetime. I don’t think he sleeps. I don’t think he eats. I don’t think he loves. Hates black pepper for some reason I’ll never understand.

“Did-Did you know he was here, Em?” Carmy suddenly asked, leaning on his arms against the table.

“I did,” she sighed, trying not to notice Luca’s fingers lightly dancing over her bare shoulder. “We…Talked earlier.”

“Oh, yeah, you worked for Empire too,” Sydney said, looking over at Emily.

“Yep. Most intense ten months of my entire life.”

“Oh, fuck, he’s getting up,” Carmy suddenly said, jumping up from his seat and going out into the hall, ignoring everyone's calls of his name and warnings for him to leave David Fields alone.

Sydney sighed as she turned back to her nearly empty plate of food. “Yeah, that’s not going to end well, is it?”

“Nope.” Luca took a drink of his wine.

“Absolutely not,” Emily replied.

Then Christina Tosi, the founder of Milk Bar, leaned across the table with a smile and a hand outstretched towards Emily. “So, I’ve actually wanted to meet you for a long time.” 

“Me?” Emily put down her drink with an unbelieving smile. “Why?”

“I ate at Osteria when I was traveling in Italy four years ago — you were staging there at the time. Girl, I have been thinking about that campfire peach cake with the blackberry compote and pistachio cream every day since.” Tosi patted the table with a laugh. “It was seriously one of the most amazing desserts I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, wow, um — thank you.” She glanced over at Luca to see him already grinning at her. “Gosh, I didn’t think anyone knew I made that dish.”

“I made Fousto tell me.” Tosi winked. 

“Well, thank you, I really appreciate that.” 

Emily would have to remember to make that for her client's family come summertime. She was sure the kids would love it — would maybe even want to help her make it. 

“How did you do it? Those crispy edges that were just a little bit burnt — my God.” 

“They’re not called campfire cakes for nothing,” Emily laughed as the next course was brought out. “The individual cakes are cooked in these small Dutch ovens that are set directly into a fire. They bake for maybe fifteen minutes max and while they’re still warm you add the compote and the cream so it's all nice and melty and delicious.”

“How many times did you catch something on fire?” Tosi asked.

“I think I singed like five aprons that summer.”

The other chefs around the table began discussing how much harder it is to make desserts than savory dishes — how most of them don’t even really like to do it. Christina Tosi had a lot to say about that. But Emily was quickly pulled away from the conversation when Luca put his hand on her thigh. Lightly, he just wanted to get her attention, his touch was gone in a moment. But it made a fire shoot up her spine as she nearly jumped to look over at him. 

“Peach cake, huh?” he asked with a smirk.

“I do really like peaches. You got me on that one.”

“Would you mind if I stole your idea?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s like rule number one in the chef’s code. Don’t steal someone elses idea.”

“Yeah, but…What if I named it after you?” Luca cocked his head, little grin on his face as his arm returned to the back of her chair. 

“I’ve never had a dish named after me before,” she replied, trying not to show how affected she was. “An honor. Sure you wanna name it for a girl you just met?”

“The girl I just met is pretty amazing.”

The meal finished and the previous employees and friends of Ever began to mill about the restaurant once more. Emily ended up speaking with Cristina Tosi more about Italy and her stage at Osteria. About desserts she had come up with since being a private chef. About the Milk Bar and Tosi’s cookbook, they didn’t seem so different from one another. 

Eventually, Emily ended up in the kitchen. Memories rushing back to her of late-night prep, family meals, inside jokes, and cut fingers all rushed back to her. Making sure no one was looking, she ducked under the prep table and looked underneath. There, dozens of names were stuck to the bottom of the table with tape. She found her own rather quickly, still stuck near the edge. Her name was written in her usual bouncy letters, bracketed by little flowers she had drawn. Carmy’s tape was towards the middle — letters small and chicken scratch. Luca’s was close to hers, nearly overlapping on one edge. His letters were in all caps and thin. Reaching up, she smoothed down one peeling side. She hoped the next owner of that restaurant never found them.

When she stood back up, Luca was standing beside her with a grin at the corners of his mouth. She knew someone had walked up and she expected it to be him. 

“Looking at the tape?” he asked. 

Emily stepped closer to him, close enough to touch, with a nod. “Do they have something like that at Noma?”

“I think almost every restaurant I’ve worked at does,” he replied, “On Noma’s pantry wall is the signature of everyone who’s ever worked there.”

“Osteria had a book in the owner’s office. So many famous chefs signed that thing.”

“Including you,” Luca said, scooching in even closer — nearly chest to chest.

Emily looked down and shook her head. “I am not famous. I…I’ve gotta be honest. When I was standing outside I almost turned around and left.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a private chef. Because I walked away from the restaurant world and I don’t know…I just felt a little less than, I guess.”

She looked back up at him then and his face was so soft. So endearing and open. His blue eyes bore into her and she nearly wanted to look away. But she couldn’t. It was impossible to. Even as he took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“From everything I’ve heard tonight, you are not less than. You are an amazing, talented chef.” He squeezed her hand again and tugged her into his chest. “Besides, who gives a fuck what they think? There’s an after-party at Sydney’s place and we’re going.”

Emily beamed up at him. “We are?”

“Yeah, we are.” Luca reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and she felt the burn of being seen for the first time in nearly half a decade. “Still can’t believe I never talked to you when we worked together. Wanna kick myself.”

Taking a deep breath to collect herself, regather her thoughts, and stop her knees from turning to mush, she said, “You’re talking to me now. That’s all that matters.”

Why did it feel so natural with him? Most of the time, when a man tried to hit on her, she turned tail and ran. It scared her to think about opening herself up to someone like that again. To open up Henry to someone being in his life with a good chance they might leave. She couldn’t put herself or her boy through that. Not again. But that night, without her son, an entire night, and an apartment to herself, she didn’t feel the weight of all of that. She felt free to flirt and lean into his touch and just for a moment…Just for a moment…She wasn’t a mom. She didn’t have any responsibilities besides her work and herself. She could let Luca, the kind and mellow pastry chef, slip his fingers into her hair and draw her in for a kiss. 

She could let him take her to an after-party with a keg of beer, music, and dancing. She could play dice and win. She could help Andrea Terry and Sydney Adamu make frozen waffles and pizza. She could let Luca pull her into his lap and get yelled at for making out on the couch. She could stay out until two in the morning and come home with a boy trailing behind her — his hands on her hips as she unlocked the door.

It was dark inside the apartment, and Emily was glad for it. In the shadows, he couldn’t see the dinosaurs and play construction vehicles all over the floor. The light over the kitchen island was still on. If he noticed the drawings on the fridge he didn’t mention it. She hoped he would think they were from her client’s children or something like that.

After kicking off her boots, Emily opened the fridge and pulled out a container, attempting to delay what they set out to do to wrangle her nerves into submission. She could do this. She could have a one-night stand. She could do this.

“What’s that?” Luca asked as he leaned against the island with his palms flat against the quartz countertop.

“Rosemary syrup cake with mead cream.” She opened the container and put one out on a napkin. “My client had a bunch of his college buddies over for dinner a couple nights ago. He said to make a manly dessert — whatever that meant.” 

He smiled as he looked at the dessert then he nodded for her to come closer. “Feed it to me.”

She had to stop herself from rubbing her legs together before she walked up to him with the pastry in hand. Looking down at her with a smirk on his pink lips, he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter. Those tattooed hands never left her, fingers bunching up the satin of her dress as he clutched her thighs in his wide palms. For not having done this in a long time, Luca was very good. He could have led her into a burning building and she wouldn’t have cared as she looked into those deep blue eyes. And she tried her hardest to hold that eye contact as she held the cake up to his lips. 

He took a bite and licked the cream off his lips. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned. 

“Fuck me!” Luca licked his lips again and she laughed. “That’s fucking delicious. Can I steal that one as well?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, taking a bite herself. “I worked hard to make this manly dessert.”

“Mm, can I have another?” He pointed at the cake still in her hand. 

She nodded and held the cake back up to him. But before she could finish it off with the next bite, Luca leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted like rosemary, mead, and cream. It made her moan soft in the back of her throat from the taste as well as the feeling of his lips on hers. She could feel his smile against her lips as he pulled in closer, chest to chest, hands eclipsed on either side of her hips. His tongue slipped in easily, more rosemary and cream, as she dropped the dessert and threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging softly. 

One of his hands trailed down and down her leg until he found the slit in her olive green dress. Until he pushed it up and up to find the seam where her leg met her hip. Her hips rolled forward of their own accord, some stunted noise muffled in his mouth as his fingers danced over her inner thigh. Luca broke the kiss just to trail his sugar-sweet lips across her jaw and down her neck — Emily easily tilted her head to the side with a sigh. Hands falling to feel the planes of muscle beneath his shirt and fiddle with one of his buttons.

She parted her legs even further for him at his urging, and she jumped only slightly when he ran his deft fingers over the core of her. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked, peach,” he muttered in her ear.

“L-Like I said…Been a long time,” she replied breathily, leaning back slightly on her hands. “S-Shouldn’t we go to the bedroom?”

“I always have been better in the kitchen,” Luca was quick to reply, but then he looked up at her in his gentle way. “Unless you would feel more comfortable there.”

Emily had had this specific wet dream many times before. Only the face of the guy was a generic blur and his voice always matched the sound of whatever audio porn she was listening to those days. But there Luca was. Tall and handsome and wanting to fuck her right there in her kitchen. Her heart was going a million miles a minute. Would she feel more comfortable in bed? Probably. Did this, right there on the kitchen island, scratch some itch she had wanted to for years? Absolutely.

“N-No,” she finally replied, “Here is…Good.”

“Okay,” Luca laughed softly. “You tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

All she could really do was nod as he leaned back in and kissed her. Soft and slow, taking his dear sweet time as he moved his lips against her own. Something like a growl got caught in his throat as she tugged at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. And he couldn’t help but grin at the way her breathing picked up as he pulled at the zipper of her dress.

She only hopped down from the counter for a second so her dress could easily fall to the floor, and then Luca picked her right back up and set her on the cold quartz. Underneath the dress, she wasn’t wearing anything other than her underwear, and Luca groaned like he had about the cake at the sight of her. 

“Fucking beautiful, peach,” he muttered as he smeared kisses along her neck and collarbone.

At his gentle urging, she laid down on her kitchen island. She could barely breathe let alone think as he trailed his tongue and lips down her chest and stomach. That hand tattooed with a pepper ghosted up her side, only to come to rest beside her chest. His thumb passed over the pebbled flesh and Emily could not stop the breathy moan that escaped her.

“Luca,” she gasped as he nibbled at her hip bone, his hand kneading her breast like dough. 

Her entire body tingled like static on an old tv screen. Her center cried out for attention. She could feel her desire dripping out of her.

He released himself from her flesh with a soft pop. “Doin’ alright, peach?”

“Uh-huh —” But then she shook her head. “Need…Need you to…”

“Need what?” He peppered a line of kisses along the line of her underwear. “Need me to eat you out like your dessert?”

Emily couldn’t nod her head fast enough. He chuckled lightly against her skin, then he peeled her underwear down her legs and kneeled down on the floor. At first, he simply pressed a few experimental kisses to her seam. Making her wriggle and whimper against the counter. But then he parted her with his tongue and her spine curved of its own accord — her hands fisting into his hair as she gasped. 

He dipped his tongue into her hole then swirled it around her clit, like he was eating ice cream, then pulled away to practically pant into her inner thigh. 

Making sure to catch her eye he whispered, “Taste so sweet.”

A moan hadn’t even fully left her lips before he dove back in. Lapping at her like he was starved for it. A craving finally satiated. He groaned into her like she was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Hands gripping onto her thighs hard enough to leave marks. He drove her closer and closer to release with every lick, suck, and kiss. Her hands pulled and tugged at his hair as the pleasure tingled at the base of her spine.

“L-Luca! Oh!” she gasped, back arching off the countertop as he gave her clit a hard suck. “So good — So good. Fuck.”

He groaned into her flesh again and this time it shot all the way up her back and made her see stars. It had been so long since she had been with someone like this. She thought that, maybe, she could get at least one orgasm out of it and they would pass out. But no. Luca was taking his dear time with her — memorizing every sound and every reaction. He was eating her out for God’s sake, something she had to beg and plead with her last boyfriend to do on a rare occasion. But Luca wanted to do it. Enjoyed it, clearly, from the way he shoved his face into her so far she feared he couldn’t breathe. 

Her toes began to curl and her entire being began to feel molten hot as he pulled that sensitive little bud between his lips again. Her breath came out in stunted little gasps as she moved her hips against his face. 

“I’m — I’m gonna —” she tried to get out, tried to warn him. 

But he paid it no mind. He just kept going until she cried out and went stuck still beneath his expert tongue. And didn’t stop until she was pushing at his forehead and whimpering at the back of her throat. 

Luca pulled away with one final kiss to her now oversensitive clit. It made her whine and he laughed softly as he wiped at his chin. She felt boneless as she lay there and stared up at the ceiling, trying to collect herself. But it felt like she was in a haze as he tugged her to sit up and smoothed her hair back behind her ears. 

“That good, huh?” he questioned as he took her hand in his, smiling when all she could do was nod. “Good. Want you to feel good.” 

“Want you to…Feel good too,” she managed to string together as she reached out and tugged at his belt.

“Trust me, I feel great.” But when she cupped him, hard and aching, through his wool pants, his chin dropped to his chest. “Mm, fuck.”

Emily’s eyes widened as she felt the size of him. For a moment, she wondered if she would be able to take him. But then Luca was scooping her up by the backs of her thighs and she didn’t have time to think about it anymore. Not when he was mouthing at her neck like that and asking where her bedroom was. Down the hall on your left. Not when he brought her to release with her spread out on her sheets on his fingers. Not when he revealed hard muscles and even more tattoos scattered across his skin like so many stories. Not when he pushed in nice and slow and gave her all the time in the world to gasp and whine and tell him it wouldn’t fit. 

“I’ll make it fit, peach,” grumbled against her jaw as his fingers connected with that bundle of nerves once more.

No, she really couldn’t think about it at all once he was buried to the hilt and she felt so fucking full. And she told him so — it made him twitch inside her into something no boyfriend had ever found before. He made her see stars and constellations and entire planets as he hit that spot again and again and again. Until she screamed and cried and couldn’t say anything other than his name.

And when he spilled inside her with a groan and his hand so soft around her throat — she felt on the edge of consciousness. Tired down to the bone but in the best way possible. 

She didn’t even bother to say anything as she curled into his chest and let him pull the covers over them both. In the back of her mind, she knew she should have told him to leave. Told him this was fun but it was time to go. But she just couldn’t. It felt too good, too natural, too everything for him to leave her bed after that. It almost felt like he was supposed to be there.

And in some ways, she told him so, when he kissed her forehead and she burrowed deeper into his embrace.

Luca woke up before her the next morning. The sun was up and looked like it had been for hours. Her bedroom was a mess of clothes and empty water bottles. It made him smile to see a photo collage of all her travels and some of her favorite dishes on the wall. 

But it made his brow furrow to see pictures of a baby up there too. 

Maybe it was her nephew or something?

Luca was careful as he got out of bed and put his clothes back on. He didn’t want to disturb her — she looked so peaceful. Tangled up in a homemade quilt with her hair fanned out on the pillow, mouth slightly open as she breathed deeply. He smiled as he looked at her, not really wanting to leave but knowing that he should.

Then he spotted a notebook and pen on her bedside table. Probably filled with recipe ideas and dreams scribbled down in the middle of the night. He only thought for a split second, knowing if he did it any longer he would chicken out before he scooped up the notebook and wrote down his number on the next available page.

Out in the main room, he gathered up his coat and shoes, noting the toys scattered about the space. Dinosaur figures, little construction vehicles, plushies of some cartoon dog he didn’t recognize.

Maybe the nephew had been over recently and she hadn’t had time to clean up?

He wanted to stay and study the space. Learn just a little more about her before he left. But he didn’t want to be there when she woke up. Didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her.

So he went out the door with his coat in hand, smiling to himself thinking of the blush on her face or her reactions to his touch. Emily really was amazing. Talented, accomplished, confident, calm, and sincere. He wasn’t a praying man, but as he walked down the hall to the elevator he hoped that she would text him.

Pressing the call button for the elevator, he stood back with his hands in his pockets. It had to go up five stories, so it would be a bit of a wait. And while he did, the door to the stairwell opened.

An older woman with grey hair and a toddler stepped out. He wore a backpack that was a little too big for him and she looked tired but happy. The woman smiled at Luca as they passed and he returned it with a nod. He even waved slightly at the little boy and he did so tentatively back.

The two of them went down the hall from whence he came and he watched them go. The boy was cute, with curly blond hair and a freckle-covered face. He reminded Luca of someone but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Not until the older woman opened Emily’s apartment door and the little boy ran inside with a shout of “Mommy!”.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

[poolnoodling]

hiiii so good to see you back!!! about the little fanfic draft file names game, would you mind sharing a little about concrete??? and/or maybe DRAFT_CHERRY??? their titles are very intriguing and i’d love to hear more about them :D

ahh hi i love you. thanks so much. it's been a minute right!!!!!! i'd love to share some info/glimpses of both.

concrete feet ok so this title is taken from florence and the machine's heavy in your arms which. strong vibe for this angsty canon fic (threw some abo in there too why the fuck not) in which i wanted love (see: gojo satoru) to be a condemnation, a death sentence, rather than a blessing. this fic explores power dynamics in a heavy heavy way - Getou was a stock-motion doll. Gojo’s fingers manipulated his frame. His thumbprints a permanent whorl in the soft plasticine flesh of Getou’s inner arm - a huge step away from my usual lovey dovey equal partnership vibe. on that whimsical note :)

It’s only the following day that Getou returns from a mission to find Gojo in his room, cross-legged in front of his chest of drawers. About him is Getou’s underwear, strewn carelessly, and in his palm sits the plastic orange bottle, like a pilfered conch shell Gojo can’t work out if he wants to probe for meat or toss back into the ocean where he found it. 

At Getou’s appearing, which he does not explicitly acknowledge, he takes his time tucking the bottle back into the cotton recess from which he extricated it. 

“I was looking for my sweatbands,” he offers by way of greeting, smoothing Getou’s clothes back down like compacted earth over a sapling. 

Ridiculously, Getou has to remind himself he need not ask permission to enter his own fucking room; he still crosses the threshold with stifled hesitation. “I don’t have them,” he replies plainly. 

Silence wedges itself between them, personified. It looks between them expectantly.

Ask me, then, Getou thinks. Just ask.

Gojo does regard him, then, with a tilt of his jaw. And for all of Getou’s exhaustion, for the new tinge of humiliation he’d found bleeding at his corners, he feels, with an unstoppable vehemence, that he could hit him. The expression on Gojo’s face – the source of Getou’s immediate and blood-hot fury – is pity. He is certain of it. 

Gojo shuts the drawer carefully, slowly, and Getou trembles in the doorway. 

“I’ll check laundry,” he says lightly on his way out, letting their shoulders brush, and heads uncaringly in the wrong direction.  

fun fact - this scene directly follows from another snippet i have somewhere else on my blog :) i can't wait to finish this fic and show you guys just how fuckin insufferable i can make gojo be

and as for Cherry! idk why i named the draft this. the fic is so far title-less, but has a cherry coke/pink neon/sour candy vibe in my brain. this au is a little grimy, a little lighthearted, a little bratty. maybe a bit of an indulgent description-fest rather than plot heavy or a character study. and i'll be honest, i've absolutely stalled at the smut scene so as it stands it's about 10k of extended foreplay in one way or another.

Satoru’s wearing one of Shoko’s baby-tees, which he'd pulled stiff and static from the dryer. On him, it’s cropped. Navel poking above his jeans. Hem flat against hipbones, ruching when he twists. In the reflection, he’d seen Getou looking at the base of his spine when he’d ducked down. He’s got a birthmark there, latte-coloured, that boys like to trace with their tongues.

and

Over her shoulder, through the curtain of her chestnut hair, he finds Getou's eyes. Bodies, smoke, coloured light, forming the traffic between. He’s loosened his hair; Satoru wonders when. Loosened his attitude, too, because he sips his cup right-handed this time, eyes unblinking over the rim, by now understanding the challenge: be the last to look away.

and

Her mouth touches the conch of his ear. “You’re a shameless whore.” She’s laughing, but he still burns and she knows it. “Using me. It doesn’t even have to be much; I know you. You’d probably be content just to watch him fuck me, wouldn’t you?”

“Content? It’d be agony.”

“Exactly.” She gets him.

i think u get the picture. shoko features heavy in this one...... wink wink

thanks again for the ask!!!!!!! hope you guys enjoy these snippets......... god knows it has been too long since i posted anything of mine

[blood-mocha-latte]

so i made a quiz a minute back and there was a question about my guinea pigs and a lot of people. followed up on that and wanted to know more lmao. AND if you've been here for even .5 seconds you are aware that i. love talking about my pets so let's get into it

i. Perdita Sue

name: -- perdita for 101 Dalmations (since she's black and white) -- sue for Sue Hendrickson (a world renowned paleontologist)

fun fact: as stated by the quiz she fucking. loves her water bottle. when she was a baby we were worried she had a blockage in her throat because she kept slamming it back against the wall of the hutch REALLY LOUDLY and her sister didn't do that. so we took her to the vet. nothings wrong. maybe it was just a thing when she was a baby no. no she just really fucking loves her water bottle and likes making it really loud

worst experience: she cut her paw open on a piece of hay when she was about a year and a half old and was bleeding SO FUCKING MUCH i almost missed a class final to stay home with her. she was fine lol

best experience: she likes to shake hands. i have a photo of this somewhere. if you put your hand down in the hutch she'll run over and put both her paws in your palm so you can "shake" them it's the funniest fucking thing

ii. Mei Rosalind

name: -- mei for my fiancee's middle name lmao (lenora-mei) -- rosalind for Rosalind Franklin (biochemist who discovered the structure of dna)

fun fact: again as in the quiz, she likes sunbeams. a whole fuckin' lot. like, too much. it was about noon and i walked into the room they're in and she was on her back. lil paws in the air. and i thought she was Fucking Dead but no. she was just sunbathing

worst experience: she once sneezed in my mouth and i thought i was gonna die

best experience: when i was studying for my organic chem final she slept on my desk the whole time and just generally kept me from Flipping The Desk and giving up lmao

iii. Meg Helen

name: -- meg for meg jay (clinical psychologist on adult development) -- helen for. helen keller. bc she's blind

fun fact: the only guinea pig we got from a pet store, who we weren't actually going to get. but she was curled up in the corner of a too small cage and was obviously miserable, so we ended up biting the bullet and adopting her. took her to the vet, vet told us she is The Most Blind Animal she has ever had the pleasure of meeting. take that as you will

worst experience: we got her when she was just a little over a week old and she had to be quarantined from the others. we ended up having to switch off and sit with her at night because she'd cry the whole time and she has the saddest fucking wheek

best experience: she has the croakiest voice of all time. we're pretty sure it's the same genetic inbreeding problems that made her blind, but it doesn't hurt her and it sounds Hilarious. when she finally got out of her quarantine hutch and to her real one (which is 45 feet squared lmao) she didn't stop popcorning and squeaking for fifteen minutes. i cried my fiancee cried i took a video and sent it to my parents and they cried it was a day

iv. Piper Florence

name: -- piper for the pied piper of war because she's the leader and the others follow after her like she's the. the pied piper -- florence for florence nightingale because again if you've been here for more than .5 seconds you know that i am a. healthcare bitch

fun fact: once jumped out of the hutch and then just stood in the middle of the room because she didn't know where to go. is Best Friends with meg and shows her where everything is in the hutch when we have to change it/replace objects. she does not like sue and ignores her. just doesn't like her there's nothing to be done

worst experience: we thought she had ovarian cancer about a year ago because she was lethargic/sick/swollen etc for a long period of time. tracking her poop what she ate all of that etc etc. turns out that she had a cyst which was still a fucking nightmare, but hey at least it wasn't cancer

best experience: when my fiancée got really sick a few years back piper would just sit on her chest and purr. it was cute and needed and she's fuckin BEEN there man she's basically our dog

anyways that's it. congratulations if you got through it all lmao. i also have four cats (i am. not good at fostering) and a dog so maybe i'll make a post about them idk. ok bye

[misterbaritone]

Saw Thunderbolts* last night. Shorthand review: it was aight. 6/10, 7/10 if I’m being nice. Carried extremely hard by my Love-hate relationship with The Sentry(who was adapted shockingly well). No idea if it lives up to that hype some folks have it but it was solid.

Not so shorthand review?

My main gripe going in is that it wasn’t the the Thunderbolts lineup I’m used to(I prefer the team led by Baron Zemo) but that was a nerd Nitpick.

I came a bit late so I missed the first few minutes, but overall the comedy was good, the casts was good even if I don’t know what they’re from outside of osmosis. That said, John Walker is fuckin hilarious. Didn’t watch Falcon and Winter Soldier so all I know is A. He’s Captain America understudy and B. He domed some dude with a shield. But yeah he’s a fuckin riot. Yelena is fine as frog hair(which one of you niggas was hiding Florence Pugh’s fine ass from me?) and a serviceable protag. She’s funny and I feel for her lil unfulfilled life arc. The rest were alright, cool to see Bucky’s still got his Winter Solider steez.

Also was that Taskmaster that got a bullet between her eyes in that scene in the vault? Huh.

The main event that even got me to see this thing was our boy Robert Reynolds aka The Sentry. And I gotta say he was adapted pretty damn well. They strip down a lot of the fluff and bullshit from the comics and keep the core of the character idea of “mentally disturbed man gets power he reasonably shouldn’t” and work it. I’m glad I read up on the guy before I watched.

Though the movie doesn’t do any better a job of explaining how a super soldier serum turns you into half Exploding Suns Golden Guardian, half shadowy extinction event but its comic book stuff can’t sweat every silly thing

Once ol Bob finally gets his powers “working” he’s Sentry as you know him. Unphased by the opposition and generally all powerful. But then when Bob sees how strong he is the other sides of his personality come out, the confidence then the arrogance then all at once the Void(which was built up p well in my estimation). Speaking of Void, this was the first and only time I’ve ever been terrified of the thing. In the books he’s just another space monster for the heroes to fight but here? Dawg When he suddenly turned that lil girl into a shadow I actually jumped a bit. Mfer was cold blooded.

They beat him the way I expected(fighting from the inside, Letting Robert over come it) but the ending of the film threw me off. Didn’t expect that Valentina broad to clutch that dub. Also that post credits scene got me wondering if the Team is gonna be called the west coast Avengers at some point. Also it took my homeboy tipping me in that Fantastic Four are coming from another universe so there’s that.

Definitely a good time, not in a rush to see it again but a good time nonetheless. Personally can’t wait to see Bob pull the Golden Guardian out his ass again. Also I hope they don’t backpedal on the blonde hair. They were makin riffs on it and I want them to stick by the design cause hey, comic accuracy is cool.

[darththrog]

when the final whistle blew I couldn't stop myself from crying like I didn't even feel that sad at halftime cause we actually played good?? Tho adiyemi made me want to slap tf outta him with that chance like bruder like i understand the pressure but its a cl final ...also fulle, brandt everyone becoming blind all of a sudden.

But it really hit me on that carbatajuill goal. And then maatsen's mistake...that's when it totally hit me. I had hope until 85th minute and then the fulle offside that made it even worse. After the FT I just cried like fuckin Florence pugh in that one movie and I switched off the tv cause i couldnt bear to see those bums lift the trophy and then i cried myself to sleep...

But may 27 takes the cake on this one this time it actually is a lighter blow cause I'm kinda proud of them. We played good football and honestly were the better team. I'm happy at the fact we came all this way. Sure it could've been the best underdog story if we won, but it's Madrid. It's impossible to beat them in a final and like they've did it 14 times this is our first time.

And it kills me to see Marco lying on the ground just like he did 11 years ago...this was such a poetic script I wanted so bad to win it for him and see him smile and cry out of happiness, but football isn't a fairytale and happy endings always don't come.

I don't blame maatsen, I don't blame fulle, I don't blame adiyemi(I kinda do), I'm just so so so proud of this amazing team. I'll always love them whatever happens but I know it won't be the same without Marco...he gave everything to us and we couldn't repay him.

Sad but proud. Heja BVB 💛

[surpriseroundtellyourfriends]

RED STITCH LOVERS... REPORT!!!

(Thoughts on the finale below! NOT spoiler-free!)

What a fantastic finish cap to a fantastic show. You may have seen me complain about the endings to the other arcs before, but you won't see me complaining about this one. We wrapped up just about every loose thread (no pun intended), and those left dangling seem to be saved for the afterparty.

Notable highlights:

THE ISABELLE AND IAN SIBLING MOMENT... I was so happy multiple people drew it; I want to animatic it. I cheered so fuckin loud, tbh. Ian IS the shitty older brother, and Isabelle is his darling twin sister who will keep him in line, and together they will murder their Uncle Hunterpalm <3

(I am specifically referring to him comforting and teasing her while she cried into his shoulder but ALSO, what is more sibling-coded than planning how to commit a murder and hide the body together?)

Unexpectedly delightful dynamic between Cadmus and Hutch. This whole time, Cadmus has been the only party member who really HATES Hutch with a vitriol, and the animosity with Cadmus trying to steal a buff from him (albeit while saving his life) was just so good. And then Hutch using his overclass to full-restore Cadmus (WHO FINALLY GOT TO NOT DIE DURING A FIGHT) and offering to help get revenge on Vice afterwards? Really good stuff.

(And like, we NEEDED that confirmation that Vice was gonna get his just desserts. I would've thrown hands if we didn't.)

Lots of good polycule bits. "If you were hitting on me, you're gonna have to get in line. There's forms and stuff." I fucking love these science freaks.

THE GROUP HUG... even though Florence was not technically a part of it, I'm pretending she was.

On the note of Roob being gone for so long—much as I also wanted them to get back, tbh? I think it provided an EXCELLENT excuse for (non-combat-planning) roleplay. Some of the best moments likely wouldn't have happened if Roob hadn't dipped.

God bless Craigor for INSISTING they all go out and get ice cream. In my head, Craigor's vital role in the found family is that he keeps everyone sane by forcing them to indulge in small pleasures like dairy queen.

Cadmus removing Florence's stitch for her was such a good casual moment of intimacy. It's like letting someone do your makeup for you, only in a more brutal and fucked-up scenario because it's RSR. Nobody fucking look at me I love their friendship and will talk about it for ages

I actually like how Isabelle's "dry anger" finally broke into crying. It feels more in-character that she's been trying to act tough and uncaring this whole time, but really, she's just overwhelmed. I also like how it's more obvious now when she's being possessed by Venutia. HUGE "the souls of the innocent" "a bagel!" energy.

On that note: there's a moment I've always loved where Isabelle uses a Beam of Unreality and deletes several rock fans, and Connor says to Cadmus "stick with me here: there might be something more dangerous to your health here than the goddamn rock and rollers," to which Cadmus (who didn't see the beam) replies "who, Isabelle? she wouldn't hurt a fly!"

What I'm saying is, I want that moment to happen again but now with both Isabelle and Cadmus having the knowledge that she IS a monster. But they both choose to keep quiet about it. That's Cadmus's work daughter, he is not losing ANOTHER person in his life—

ISABELLE IN GENERAL WAS GREAT THIS SESSION. HER BIG SPEECH? A+. GOOD JOB, SIX, YOU GAVE A CONCLUSIVE THEME AND CAP TO THIS SHOW THAT HAD THE BALLS TO BRING UP THE QUESTIONS JELLO WOULDN'T.

Carol/Carmen in general was a really great antagonist. Sympathetic in nature, simple motivations that make sense to her character, and still a massive bitch who needs to be stopped. I don't have any brainrot over her but I felt the need to acknowledge her since, y'know, the whole series kinda hinged on her.

Congrats to that one person for getting their rat canonized

in conclusion,

RSR good

[jades-typurriter]

Tell us more about Fiora and Heather!!

ALRIGHT SO

even though fiora is kind of the main character of "Shear Bliss" (NSFW Warning!) we kind of have to start with heather because they are, contrary to appearances, the older of the two of them by FAR

heather's original refs, designed and drawn by @sacrednanners on twitter!

theyre actually significantly older than fiora. like, by several millennia.

they were actually born on one of the smaller islands in the mediterrannean about 3200 years ago, a period during which, according to greek mythology, the gods were still directly fucking with people all the time. according to Oedipus Rex, the gods stopped doing that after looking at the colossal mess they made in the events of that play (+ the trojan war), so if i wanted to be able to point at the existence of magic in greek mythology instead of coming up with my own magic system, i had to pick a date from before then (more specifically, its the estimate i saw for the setting of The Odyssey, and Circe was a direct inspiration for their character, so thats what i went with :) )

after picking up their tricks, they started traveling from island to island and city-state to city-state, using their magic to trick people into believing they were a minor deity or nature spirit of some kind. as it turns out, that sort of thing is a good way to land "guest of honor" status at those old greek festivals (and also lots of offerings of food!) they picked up their taste for being pampered and adored there, and once they had run out of places to keep up the con had their fill of greek life, they also toured lower egypt, doing much the same, and then so on and so forth in other places

they've maintained their youth for so long using their magic (which is, in turn, maintained with all the worship they used to collect with the "lesser divinity" scam). nowadays, they get all the attention they need through less direct means than showing up to a rager in person: a VERY strong digital presence. in addition to modeling work, they run a highly successful instagram and are a popular livestreamer, bringing in a comfortable amount of money from donations, sponsorships, etc. (that said, they still fuckin love a good rager).

fiora's original reference, also by @sacrednanners, and the first panel of the sequence from Shear Bliss, by my bestie @mae-lizzowski

fiora, on the other hand, is totally mortal and also (apart from working in and around hollywood) totally normal. she was born in a rural community, moved out to work as a tailor, and through a combination of factors (working hard in a decade where that made a difference, having a steady supply of any colored thread she could need immediately on-hand to rapidly iterate on a client's request, and some lucky connections) was able to build up enough savings and reputation to set up her own boutique.

she met heather through her work, when they were working their way up to their current popularity (which, to be fair, wasn't much of a long process; in fact, it was suspiciously quick) and heather wanted to go straight to the big names to get some nice clothes for themself. for as obnoxious as they can be as a customer, they're good at telling where exactly The Line is, and they don't cross it with fiora. with that absolute minimum of respect met, enough reoccurring business between the two of them led them to develop a rapport---while the streaming gig is relatively new, heather's been one of fiora's most reliable customers for going on 30 years! even if she can't stand them sometimes, thats plenty long to get used to somebody.

her wool, pivotal to her work though it is, is also fairly normal. no magic involved, just a quirk of her genes. both of her parents had white wool, and even her son doesn't share the mutation!

(her son florence is his own character btw, as opposed to like an off-screen piece of characterization for fiora. imagine being raised by both a hardass like fiora and a diva like heather. imagine this kid just turning 20 and not only breaking into the fashion business as well, but rubbing elbows with celebrities and going to parties and shit. hes such a menace and i love him)

anyway ty for letting me ramble about the two of them ily bestie

[glowwormsmith]

Spell Your URL

I was tagged by @thefathersbride to spell pout my URL. Thank you for the tag, friend, I always appreciate the tag, even if I'm not as active here as I used to be😊

Tagging @nightwingshero @deputyash @teamhawkeye @meatcrimes @dolphinitley @chazz-anova @unclefungusthegoat @swannscroft @decertatio @lulu2992 @alexxmason @seasidefanasties and to whoever sees this and wants to do it! No pressure, as always😊

Rules: Spell out your URL using song titles that can describe your muse/OC/pairings, then tag as many people as there are letters in your URL!

Girls by girl in red

“I’ve been hiding for so long, these feelings they’re not gone / Could I tell anyone?” for Iris

Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men

“You’re gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear / All that’s left is a ghost of you” for Layla Rook and Eli/Hudson

Out of My League by Fitz and the Tantrums

“‘Cause you were out of my league, all the things I believed / You were just the right kind, Yeah, you were more than just a dream” for Maddie and Sanji

Wherever I Go by OneRepublic

“I know I could lie, but I won’t lie to you / Wherever I go, you’re the ghost in the room” for Iris and Faith

What Kind of Man by Florence + the Machine

“You do such damage, how do you manage? Tryna crawl in back for more / And with one kiss, you inspired a fire of devotion that lasted 20 years / What kind of man loves like this?” for Tess Rook-Shepherd and Jacob

Opheliac by Emilie Autumn

“Whether I swim or sink, that’s no concern of yours now / How could you possibly think, you had the power to keep me breathing as the water rises up again / Before I slip away” for Iris

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn’t you love to love her? Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and who will be her lover?” for Layla Rook

Maroon by Taylor Swift

“And I wake with your memory over me / That’s a real fuckin’ legacy to leave” for Tess Rook-Shepherd and Jacob

Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA

“Do I really see what’s in her mind? Each time I think I’m close to knowing, she keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time” for Tess Rook-Shepherd and Hazel/Fern Shepherd (her daughters)

Medusa by Heather Dale

“Damn ‘em all, I create my own perfection / Damn ‘em all in the face of their rejection / Damn ‘em all, well this dog will have its day / My garden’s full of pretty men who couldn’t stay away” for Iris

I’m Still Here by John Rzeznik

“And what do you think you’d ever say? I won’t listen anyway, you don’t know me / And I’ll never be what you want me to be” for Kotone Starling

Trouble by P!nk

“You think you’re right, but you were wrong / You tried to take me, but I knew all along / You can’t take me for a ride / I’m not a now, so you better run and hide” for Layla Rook

Hurt by Johnny Cash

“I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel / I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real…Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything” for Iris

[crimeronan]

So I THINK I know already.. but which songs on the Princess Luz playlist are about Hunter?

i've got so many OC asks to answer but i am so slepby and i'm a sucker for music so i reply 2 this quastion instead. i don't think i actually even posted the playlist over here so here it is. that girl sure can sad. sorry for making your life suck so bad luz i swear i love you so much

anyway. u probably DO know, it's pretty obvious what songs are about hunter versus belos versus luz's self-hatred. but i will give u the names and most relevant bits of the lyrics because i FUCKIN LOVE ME A GOOD CODEPENDENCY TRAUMA SONG WITH POETIC NONSENSE LET'S GOOOO WOOOOOO

people who haven't read the main fic can glean at least some of the vibes from these snatches of lyrics probably. sorry for making everything edgy horror about sad people. i will do it again.

gun in my hand - dorothy

why did love put a knife in my heart in my bed, in my head, in my heart was it for redemption or was it for revenge? was it for the bottle? was it for the ledge? was it for the thrill of pushing my hope to the edge?

chasing twisters - delta rae

i lost hope when i was still so young had an angel on my shoulder but the devil always won (...) feel the lives that i have taken, what little soul that i have left and oh, my God, i'll take you to the grave the only love i've ever known, the only soul i ever saved

frozen - within temptation

i can feel your sorrow, i sacrifice you won't forgive me but i know it'll be all right it tears me apart that you will never know but i have to let go tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? can't tell the reasons i did it for you

politics of love - rise against

i hear your voice in the wind it follows me, it cuts right through the noise as we spin on dance floors made of ice so rest your hand in mine steady now, ignore the sound of breaking lines the cracks beneath our feet as time runs out

heavy in your arms - florence + the machine

are you strong enough to stand protecting both your heart and mine? who is the betrayer, who's the killer in the crowd the one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound my love has concrete feet, my love is an iron ball wrapped around your ankles over the waterfall

ship to wreck - florence + the machine

don't let the curtain catch you 'cause you've been here before the chair is an island, darling, you can't touch the floor and oh, my love, remind me, what was it that i said? i can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed and oh, my love, remind me, what was it that i did? did i drink too much? am i losing touch? did i build this ship to wreck?

close to heaven - breaking benjamin

hate, lost inside, i dare to dream, faithless lies caught in the web, i will face the weak within so i'll stay unforgiven and i'll keep love together and i'll be yours forever, i'll sleep close to heaven i'm coming home, i'm coming home, i'm coming home

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

What are some songs you have picked out for Sidra? /What are some key songs in her playlist?

Anon you have unironically bestowed upon me the greatest gift any writer on tumblr could ever receive: Being asked about OC playlists.

I am going insane as I type this. I hope you have a wonderful day and that some of these tunes will be to your liking!!! ❤❤❤

I also added some of my favorite/most relevant lyrics where applicable because I couldn't stop myself, hope you don't mind!

Zoë Keating - Escape Artist

The first song on Sidra's playlist, it perfectly captures her entire vibe. I love the crunchy sound of the cello, the deep notes, the tense anticipation that never quite gets resolved, and the stoic melancholy of this melody (pretentious).

Madi Diaz- Ashes

Captures the vibe of Sidra and Reese's (human FWB) doomed-from-the-start relationship.

LP - Muddy Waters

Mostly on here because I think it's pretty but also I imagine Sidra's singing voice sounds about like this.

Florence + The Machine - What the Water Gave Me

Self-explanatory inclusion, one of the songs that inspired the vibe of the faery wip from the start. Also fits Sidra's semi-suicidal attitude throughout the book.

Ruelle - Take It All and Up in Flames

More vibes, but the lyrics also fit quite well for Sidra's journey.

Lord Huron - Way Out There

Did a whole edit of this one.

Woodkid - Iron

A soldier on my own, I don't know the way I'm riding up the heights of shame I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest I'm ready for the fight, and fate

Some of the lyrics work rly well but the fuckin SOUND of this is everything. Also the name, obviously.

Heilung - Krigsgaldr

Coexistence, conflict, combat Devastation, regeneration, transformation That is the best I can do for you I see a grey gloom on the horizon That promises a powerful sun to rise, melt away all moons It will make the old fires of purification, purification Look like dying embers, look like dying embers

This song is 9 minutes long and the English bit in the middle is so hardcore, but this is my favorite bit of it because it encapsulates a lot of Sidra's purifying but also terrifying rage.

Florence + The Machine - No Light, No Light

Honorable mention to this even though it's technically in my Sidra/Val playlist. This is every #deep person's sad romance song so it's mine as well. BUT! I can't not include it because it's the entire reason Val has blue eyes lol and inspired like 90% of their dynamic back when I was only starting the story.

The rest of the songs are pretty much soundtracks from The Witcher 3, and Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice.

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Her Song part 37

Bonjour, Mon Ange. I went for a run. I'll be back in time to make breakfast. Je t'aime!

Florence read the note and sighed, grumbling about the lack of warmth being emitted from the other side of the bed. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and dialed her favorite number. It only rang once.

"Hey, love! How did you sleep?" I pant through the phone, out of breath from my run.

"I slept fine. But I would've been much more happy to wake up next to you," she complains cutely.

"Désolé, ma belle. The open road was just calling my name," I joked, turning the corner onto my street. "I'll be home in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, love."

"Oh wait! I'm listening to this song called 'Washington Lilacs' by Zach Bryan. I think you'll like it."

"I'll listen to it right now," Florence grinned, remembering your old tradition. "See you soon."

When I returned to our apartment, I smiled seeing Flo and Syd dancing around the kitchen, gathering things to make pancakes. It had been two months since the incident with Ben, and life had been bliss. Flo had officially moved in, and her and Syd were almost inseparable. Syd's cancer was another story.

"Hey, babe, how'd you sleep?" I greet Syd, picking her up and swinging her around.

"Good! I had a dream that you and Flo got married and we moved to France!"

"Oh my, that's quite the dream," I gasp dramatically.

"Quite the dream, indeed," Flo adds on. She approaches and places a quick kiss on my lips. "Go shower, you smell. I'll cook breakfast."

"How rude. Fine, but don't burn the place down."

"No promises," she shouts as I make my way towards the bathroom.

~

After breakfast, Syd settles on the couch to watch some cartoons while Flo and I clean up, dancing around the kitchen in perfect unison.

"So, I've been thinking," I begin.

"Oh, that's scary."

"Shut up. I'm being serious. What if we moved? To a real house. I love this place, but I'm ready for more. And I want it to be ours. A clean slate, you know?"

"I'd love nothing more, Y/N. But this is something we should take our time with. Are we talking the outskirts of the city or the French countryside?" she asks, referring to Syd's dream.

"I don't know, honestly. I just want to start a life with you." I quickly realize how serious this conversation is, then blush thinking about the ring in my nightstand.

"I'd go anywhere with you, darling."

"And I you, mon amour."

I flip through the mail, tossing the junk and setting aside the bills. One letter catches my eye.

Dear Y/N Y/L/N, It has come to our attention that Sydney Fleur Y/L/N may have received less than desirable care as a patient of Dr. Adriel Lancaster. Dr. Lancaster's medical license is under investigation. There is a possibility of a malpractice lawsuit. Please contact us to make an appointment with our legal team. Best wishes. The American Board of Medical Specialties

"Holy shit," I whisper to myself.

"What? What is it? Is everything okay?" Florence questions.

"It's- it's- I don't even know! Read it! What the fuck?" I whisper-shout.

After reading it, Flo looks up fuming. "Good. I hope that bastard gets his license revoked and lives in a fucking cardboard box. He should be put in jail for what he did to our daughter. I mean what kind of fucking doctor breezes over extreme neurological symptoms like that? It's fucking ridiculous," she rants.

"Flo," I cut her off. "You just said 'our daughter.'"

"What?"

"Our daughter. You called Syd 'our' daughter."

"Oh. Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to overstep-"

"I could kiss you right now."

"Huh?"

"You've been to hell and back with me and Syd. I'm glad you think of her as your daughter, because she is your daughter. I love you Flo. We're a family."

"I love you too," she whispers as tears well up in her eyes. And once again, I think of that ring in my nightstand drawer.

~

"So basically, we're gonna sue this motherfucker for everything he's got," I explain to Ash over the phone.

"Well as you fucking should. That piece of shit probably got his fucking medical license from a monkey high on crack. Honestly, what kind of-"

"Yeah, I know. Trust me," I mumble.

"Hey, you know none of this is your fault, right?"

"Logically, yes, I know. But it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. I mean, I knew something was wrong yet I still listened to that asshat. That's not very 'motherly instincts' of me."

"We're supposed to trust our doctors. We have to in order for the good ones to save lives. Unfortunately, not all doctors can be as good as Amelia Shepherd, and sometimes things get fucked up. That's not your fault, you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"I wanna hear you say it."

"It's not my fault," I comply reluctantly.

"Good, now I'll see you tomorrow. We need to discuss your plan to propose. We need to woo this bitch."

"Oh, Lord give me strength."

[creacherkeeper]

for sleepover saturday (time isn’t real) 4, 5, 9, and for florence 22, 25, and 30 🥰🥰

time isnt real!!! its nearly saturday again so lets just pretend this is sleepover saturday!!!

4. What's your favorite part of DMing?

i find it all so incredibly enjoyable but i think the best part is making things that are so Targeted for pcs / players and then they go crazy over it <333 like wow i get to be telling stories that are specifically for my friends!!!! and like yalls level of investment has been sooooo rewarding it makes me more emo & feel more loved than i can say <333 ive been a creative all my life but nothing has felt as good to make as lost township

5. Do you have a favorite NPC? Or type of NPC?

evil question ,,,, and like genuinely i really enjoy most of the npcs. like i find something to like or be interested in with all of them or else why would i hand them off to yall. ive definitely spent the most time with lizzie just bc of player engagement (yall know who you are)(she did not even have a character sheet in arc 1) but i think its unfortunately obvious my favorite archetype is dyke paladin with religious trauma and many things wrong with her. and i wont apologize for that.

9. What's your favorite thing your players do?

interact with the world and the plot in ways that are less about moving the plot forward and more about really inhabiting the characters. like arc 1 was very much a contained murder mystery and i think yall still did a great job with yalls characters but were very focused on Solving The Plot and i feel like in arc 2 yall have really stretched your wings and let your characters loose in a way thats just so so fun. has it taken forever to get to plot reveals Yes but its so worth it when yalls little guys are just being insane on screen for hours at a time

for florence:

22. How do they feel about the rest of the party?

ough,,,

cass: so intimidated. but also curious? quiet middle aged woman with some sort of strange foreign magic florence doesnt recognize and i think florence Wants to talk to her but will not approach first. shes clearly going through something but has mostly been keeping to herself and florence is not gonna be the one to break that

divine: she wants to be in divines good graces so bad,,, shes a wittle scared of divine but in the like. outcast girl vs popular cheerleader type of way and she definitely thinks of divine as the leader of the group. as wolf vs deer shes trying really hard not to scare divine but is maybe showing her belly a little too much. she thinks that if divine doesnt like her the rest of the party will follow suit. just feels kind of dumb and tongue tied around her

onion: shes so fuckin scared to talk to onion now. she already just really didnt know what the vibe was and then found out onion was fey and was like cool fairies are real i guess and then onion went into the First flashback and she snapped him out of it and onion immediately changed the subject to talk to her about lizzie and let her know lizzie is okay which she appreciated but is feeling very mixed up about, especially rolling so high on onion to get ,,,, A Vibe with onionlizzie. AND THEN THE SECOND FLASHBACK HAPPENED BECAUSE SHE WAS TRYING TO BE NICE TO HIM and now onion seems Unhappy and is Booking It and florence is like okay !! i fucked up !! dunno what to do now !! so shes probably just not gonna try to talk to them again unless they approach her first and she has a very clear direction for how the conversation should go. she feels sooooo bad but is also. Worried. not a good thing to get triggered by babyboy!!

tenny: she has no fucking idea how to feel about tenny. she knows tenny isnt human and tenny seems to have some sort of connection to animals / monsters and she knows tenny was being held captive in the blasting company so theres clearly Something going on there. but tenny is really keeping to her little squad and i think again its like. florence will talk to her if tenny approaches her first but shes not going to make first contact because her role in this group feels so tenuous already

will: shes autism imprinted on him. i think will is the only one in the group she actually just feels comfortable around and shes wondering why he's so different from oliver. she had definitely heard of him before while in silvermoon and then actually meets him and hes just very kind and caring and reassuring and shes definitely going to stick as close by him as she can. shes nervous or unsure or intimidated by everyone else there but will tried to calm and reassure her after she triggered onion and seems to be the person trying to take care of everyone on the trip. dog bonded to that sad old man. shes also hoping that if shes good with will maybe oliver will be less scary at her

25. Do they believe in love?

fucked up question. i think she thinks that love is duty & work & effort & loyalty and that its not meant to be easy or always fair but you just stick it out anyway and put more elbow grease in until it works. i think shes very used to being the one putting more of the work into relationships and does not necessarily see that pattern or that its a problem. shes dated and shes had flings but shes never had romantic love and she does not think its in the cards for her. she has her sisters back and she thinks she just needs to be grateful for that and not ask for more

30. What are their thoughts on justice?

interesting ... i think florence thinks justice is like. a nice ideal to keep in your head when youre making decisions but ultimately not a force thats like. Real. in the world. shes seen too many bad people be celebrated and too many innocent people suffer to think that justice is something that actually has any power in the world. the wolf pack is much more about Balance than any sort of actual goodness or fairness so even her temple never really purported itself as having justice as an ideal. the closest to that in wolfsden is sidewinder and florence has seen firsthand that his domain is not really enforced in any way

[maddstermind]

10 Songs!

Thank you for the tag @kaiafosterwrites!!!!

Rules: Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favorite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best (they might be the same lyrics), then tag 10 people.

My aubie playlist is a goddamn disaster but we're doin' it regardless! And then we'll see if I even have ten people to tag...

Cassandra - Florence + the Machine Take me back Oh drunken gods of slaughter You know I've always been your favorite daughter

The Rockrose and The Thistle - The Amazing Devil All the pins inside your fretted head And your muttered whens and hows All your mother's weaves and your father's threads Let me rob them of you now

What About Love? - Heart You've been hiding Never letting it show Always trying to keep it under control You got it down, and you're well on your way to the stop But there's something that you forgot What about love?

Hammerhead - Penelope Scott All I really know is that I'm never coming home And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you so

Monster Town - Go! Child Is this another dream? Or just a nightmare? Unnerving, concerning, who's out there? The clock isn't set to last My time is fading fast I can't keep running into spirits of the past

Eat Your Young - Hozier Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

Noble Rot - The Ballroom Thieves Give me back my freedom; I'll leave you the revelry I was more than waspish, I spoke out of turn What I do with all my bridges, that ain't none of your concern

The Outsider - Marina and the Diamonds I'm good at protecting what they wanna take Spilt the milk at breakfast, hit me double hard And I grinned at you softly 'cause I'm a fuckin' wild card

Good Morning - Go! Child The year is gone but I am not It seems my rope was longer than I thought

Nothing Will Come of It Joe - The Altogether And I've got demons You've got dreams You hear love songs But I hear screams!

Alright! Huzzah, ten songs! And now to try and tag people.

Of course, this will be an open tag to anyone who sees this and wants to participate, but I'll also pester @worldsfromhoney, @thoughtofhouses, @the-grim-and-sanguine, @planets-and-prose, @halleyuhm, @username-cause-i-need-one, @saintedseraph, @365runesoftheamalgamations, @k-v-briarwood, and @erieautumnskies!

[lacunalunatic]

Here, have a short story!

Totally not me compensating for a comic lol.

╔══•●•══╗

Somewhere in the city, a small impish creature sat in a booth, the glass door slid over to muffle the conversation in privacy. In front and behind, other callers had their private conversations as well at the public telephone room, one of many dotted all over. He tapped his cigar against the small table in front of him, gray ashes dusting and littering the surface without a care. Through the earpiece, he could hear the telltale sounds of a typewriter clacking, and eventually a small ding!

“…recorded.”

A small pause.

“Maurice…it wasn’t difficult again, was it-“

“Ay! That was only a couple of times, and I still blew em’ down. I’m fine,” Maurice interrupted sharply.

“…weellll, I heard from down the grapevine, a bit of news I don’t think you’ll like,” the voice came hesitantly on the other end.

“What? What is it?”

A sharp hiss-in of air on the other line. “You’re…getting a new partner, congratulations, hooray!”

“WHAT?!”

The furious scream was just loud enough to make the attendant at the counter of the room turn with confusion to look at his booth, staring at him in suspicious concern. Maurice hissed at them, flicking a split-tongue that made them jolt and hurry through a door behind them, likely just for employees. Maurice turned his attention back to his call.

“Brie, I don’t need no goddamn partner, tell them to stuff it!”

“Mo, you know I can’t actually do that! Besides, I think this is actually a good thing! Jobs will be easier and quicker for you!”

“You say that like I’m an old-timer-Feh! I don’t want to have to drag some wet-behind-the-ears pup!”

“Oh hush, it’ll be fine. They want you to meet them at drop location 4H tomorrow at noon,” Brie continued on. Maurice grumbled, clawing at his face in exasperation.

“One last thing.”

“What?”

“Please stay safe. I love ya.”

Maurice sighed. “Love ya too, sis.”

The demon gingerly crammed the mouthpiece back into the booth, deflating with a long heave. He looked out the booth window to see that the same attendant was back out, whispering to the ear of a manager and pointing at him.

“Alright, alright you fuckin’ mugs, I’m going!” Maurice yelled, waving them off as he stormed out. Sheesh, is there nowhere where he would get a damn break?

———

Drop location 4H was an old alleyway in Lancaster, the west section of the city. In there, Maurice waited in the shadows and occasionally watched common folks walk in the street nearby.

“C’mon, c’mon, you’re fucking late already-“ he mumbled, looking at a watch that just struck noon.

In almost comedic timing, a fiery red symbol etched itself on the brick wall opposite to him, flames screeching and hissing. Once complete, the bricks within the circle fell away, opening a dark tunnel in which a tall figure stepped out, jaw set square.

“Uh…” Maurice began, slowly looking up. “You the guy?”

Said ‘guy’ looked down, his black shades reflecting Maurice’s face back at him. Suddenly, a crooked smile erupted, a hand held out.

“Well, it’s finally nice to meet you! You’re Maurice, right?”

“Well, yeah-“

“Splendid! You’re a lil’ shorter than I reckoned you to be!” The other said, vigorously shaking Maurice’s hand and quite literally, Maurice himself.

“Ey, the Hell you mean by that-?!”

“Oh, cool yourself old man! The name’s Florence, and I believe we got a hit today, don’t we?”

Maurice grumbled, yanking his hand out. “Just one today. C’mon, you lug, and follow me. Better not fuck it up-“ Maurice whispered that last part to himself, clearly irritated by this…jolly sack of bones.

“Oh, have no worries, Mo-“

“‘Mo’?!”

“-this will be a clean and easy one, yep. Very, quick,” Florence finished ominously, reaching inside his suit jacket. From there, Maurice could see the familiar shining glint of a revolver. Perhaps…this newbie knew what he was doing.

If he even was a newbie at all.

[hotdadlicense]

top 5 albums??

laurel....... i love you.

CURRENTLY??? aka the albums featured most heavily in my personally crafted playlists these past few months

gag order - kesha happy i would quite honestly die for you. you are on REPEAT baby girl

dance fever - florence choreomania and daffodil im holding your hands until the end of time. also mermaids but thats technically a b-cut i guess

tell me i'm alive - all time low you're in the car it's late at night you're listening to this album. u know what happiness feels like.

high road - kesha i downloaded u in like 2021 and u still feature on like every playlist i make. love you forever and ever and ever.

mainstream sellout - mgk 100% blame my sister for my mgk phase whatever this album bangs and again i downloaded u in like 2021 and you're still making it onto like all of my playlists. thanks.

OF ALL TIME????? uhhhh

two lefts don't make a right... but three do - relient k (cos i was raised in a christian household and was not allowed to listen to non-christian music so relient k and superchic[k] and switchfoot pretty much owned me. also they all still slap i fuckin still listen to them regularly! they feel like home and childhood, especially this album? also their christmas album is one of the first ones i break out every november/decemeber)

so wrong it's right - all time low (cos they were like the first band i "discovered" when i started listening to non-christian music when i was like 11 or 12 or whatever and this album really REALLY changed the course of my life in MANY ways. like i don't even know the girl i'd be today if i that fake dylan efron on myspace didn't have dear maria as their myspace song. its been like 16 years now and me and my sister were just having a breakdown last night trying to organise seeing them again cos they finally dropped aus tour dates. all cos of this silly album. literally again they feel like homeeeee

between two lungs - florence and the machine (cos when i was a young little dumbass and in my supernatural phase aka when i was like 13, i watched a ship video on youtube between dean winchester (supernatural) and trish wellington (harper's island) becos i wasnt aware of me being #bi yet but i was slightly obessed with ruby 1.0 on supernatual who was played by katie cassidy so naturally i went through and watched like. all of her shit. and this ship video had blinding - florence as the song and i was like. oh this is it. this is me entering a new phase of my life. and i was right. and over the years i dragged my sister in it with me and we've seen her every time she comes to aus together and everytime blinding comes on in the car my sisters like 'idk why you love this song so much but yes we can listen to it. even though she has better songs' anyway. feels like home x3)

idk i could probably put kesha or mgk in here as well given the #stats of my last two year reviews on apple music and just the patten of songs in all the playlists i've made in the past 2+ years but it's still too soon. they're still fresh in my heart. and i'm too baby to commit. yet. and i know there's like homesick - adtr and can't stop won't stop - the maine and even the fucking high school musical soundtrack but like. idk nothing really deserves to be on the same tier as those three above so. TOP THREE BABY.