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jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

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Yes Chef

My fic for the Novigrad Exchange! For the marvelous @ohnomybreadsticks

Ship: Calanthe/Eist Rating: E Summary: Restaurant AU with a healthy dose of smut? I don’t know. I’ll think of a better summary later 😂 AO3 link to come later on!

CW: 18+ smutty time, vaginal sex, oral sex, semi-public (they are alone but in a public setting),

The kitchen was sweltering, the chefs moving around the small space in an intricate dance that only they knew the steps to. The air was filled with a cacophony of smells; slowly roasted barbeque pulled-pork, fried onions and garlic, chocolate brownies. It all wafted around the kitchen in a mess, mouth watering and delicious. For Calanthe, there was nothing better than the hustle and bustle of a professional kitchen. She had been cooking since she was a child, her own grandmother had often let her help around the kitchen and Calanthe had been hooked. There was just something so addictive about creating masterpieces out of nothing. How could flour, butter, sugar become something entirely different? A cake, soft and melting in her mouth, flavours exploding on her tongue, almost better than sex… almost.

The industry itself attracted Calanthe like a moth to a flame. It was undoubtedly a man’s world, and that pulled her in, the need to prove herself, a competitiveness that drove her forward in life. If there was one thing in love she truly loved, it was proving that the patriarchy was absolutely shit. Whenever there was an opportunity to prove that she was better than a man, she took it, and as she grew older she learned how to use that to her advantage. It didn’t take long for her to rise above her rivals. Her ingenuity and skill in the kitchen was unmatched, and she had a remarkable talent for ruling the roost. When she spoke, people listened.

Opening her own restaurant had been a dream come true.

The Jewel of Cintra.

The cuisine wasn’t fancy but it was clever. She didn’t leave her customers hungry and wanting for more, but it was posh enough that she could charge a decent amount. It was also almost entirely locally sourced. That was the hook. Her restaurant supported local businesses, and she had crafted the menu using old traditional Cintran recipes. She was determined to preserve the Cintran way of life, especially with Nilfgaard slowly taking over the catering industry with their new wave recipes that blended old Southern style flavours with that favoured by the North, creating a brand new fusion.

Calanthe hated it. Cintra had a wealth of history and it was being wiped out.

It did keep her on her toes though, she had to constantly think up new ways to stay ahead, networking at conventions and collaborating with other local restaurants and breweries. It was draining but she thrived on it, and her head waiter, Jaskier, was an absolute blessing. He could charm any customer and handled complaints without even blinking an eye.

So naturally she was furious when he’d handed in his resignation. The idiot had been snatched right under her nose. He’d gone and fallen in love with the head chef of Kaer Morhen, a gastro pub in Kaedwan, the pair had met at one of the conventions that Jaskier had gone to in her stead. Two months later, her best waiter had announced he was moving to Kaedwan to be closer to Geralt.

And Calanthe was left to replace him.

The applicants had all been shit. No one could compare to Jaskier, lacking his charisma and easy going attitude. Those who might have stood a chance bristled at the idea of bowing to Calanthe, men who thought they could come into her restaurant and overthrow her.

The misogynistic pricks.

Yes, the applicants had all been shit… until Eist Tuirseach. He was infuriatingly good, handsome, suave and seemed to already be completely head over heels with her. So, she’d reluctantly hired him.

And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

“Good morning, Chef!” Eist waved cheerily as she sauntered into the kitchen. He was helping Lambert wipe down the counters before service started. Her sous chef was a talented but prickly young man, and she trusted no one else to get her kitchen in order when she had her rare days off. He’d been trained under Vesemir from Kaer Morhen, but had been eager to escape Kaedwan. His boyfriend, Aiden was her pastry chef and, when they weren’t flirting up a storm in the kitchen, they were some of her most efficient workers.

Calanthe felt herself blush as Eist winked at her. She blamed the heat of the kitchen. “It’s almost five in the afternoon, Eist,” she shot back.

“Ah, but that is morning for a chef.”

Calanthe scoffed. He wasn’t entirely wrong, she was a night owl, most chefs were, if they slept at all, but she’d also seen five in the morning more times than she would have liked. Delivery days were killer, and when they had parties and events most of the team were in the kitchen early for prep.

“How are the books for tonight, Eist?” She grumbled, getting straight to business. It was easier that way.

“Fully booked as always, Chef. Nilfgaard wishes they could have our numbers. No one else can compare to your skill and talent, not to mention your beauty,” he said with a caddish grin.

The same smile he’d used to charm her in his interview.

________

“Eist Tuirseach?” Calanthe asked as a handsome young man entered her office. He was well built, roguish in looks, and reminded her of a lost puppy. He smiled brightly at her as he took her hand, his grip strong and firm and for the briefest of moments Calanthe wondered what those hands would feel like caressing her body, rough callouses against her breasts.

“Aye, that’s me. The Lady Calanthe?” Eist said, smirking as he cocked his head, making his tousled brown hair fall in front of his eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and she felt a familiar warmth at her core.

Fuck.

Of course he had to be cute. He was the last applicant and she was really really hoping it would be another idiot so she could politely decline Jaskier’s request to leave before his notice was up. She wanted to keep the young waiter for as long as she could.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied. “I expect professionalism in my kitchen, and you will refer to me as Chef.”

And this was the point where most of her applicants had turned tail and run. Eist, however, blushed instead, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and there was a definite hunger in his eyes. “Yes, Chef.”

Calanthe swallowed. “Good, now… I have some questions, and at the end if you have any questions for me, you’ll be given the opportunity. Unfortunately my sous chef got called away on a family matter, but if you’d like a second person here, we can rearrange the interview.”

Eist smiled even brighter, adoration and lust shining in his eyes. “No, I think we’ll be just fine, Chef.”

____________

The bastard hadn’t stopped charming her since, and it was taking all her self control not to let him ravish her in the kitchen. They danced around each other and flirted like there was no tomorrow but… well, she didn’t want to give in. She knew what it would look like; the head chef and the head waiter dating. No. She didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to question her integrity, but after months of being around Eist, she felt weak. The way their fingers brushed whenever she passed a plate over, the easy banter that made her laugh even when she was in a terrible mood at the start of the day, the disappointment she’d felt when Eist had booked off a couple of weeks to visit his family in Skellige.

The kitchen had felt empty without him.

And she just wasn’t as good at dealing with complaints. Calanthe had a short temper, and when people complained, she couldn’t help but take it personally. She got defensive and fought back.

She needed Eist.

She hated Eist.

… Or perhaps she loved him.

“We have a party of eight booked in at half-seven. No known allergies, should be pretty straight forward, but I’ve briefed my team and let your’s know too” Eist hummed, picking up his clipboard. “Most of the other bookings are couples and smaller families.”

“Fuck,” Calanthe hissed. “I hate big groups.”

“I have no doubt that you will be flawless as always, Chef.”

“Getting the plates out in one go is a faff that I could live without,” Calanthe groaned. “Lambert!” She barked.

Lambert looked up from his station, his hair slicked back and his sleeves rolled back to his arms, revealing an intricate tattoo sleeve that went down to his wrist on his right arm, wolves running through the woods. He strolled over to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest, hazel eyes alert and attentive.

“Yes Chef?”

“You’re in charge of the party of eight, I want you working with Eist and his team. No fucking around with Aiden, understood?”

“Loud and clear, Chef,” Lambert nodded then smirked. “Can we fuck around after?”

Calanthe rolled her eyes, swatting him over the head with her palm. “Behave, wolf.”

“What?” he gaped, rubbing the back of his head. “You and Eist are worse than us, and you still claim you’re not together!”

“We’re not together.”

“Not yet, at any rate,” Eist chuckled.

Calanthe shot daggers at her waiter. “Get out of my kitchen, Eist. Before I get you for harassment.”

Eist quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me to stop, Chef, and I will, but you have yet to tell me no. One word, Calanthe,” he paused, giving her a chance to admonish him for using her name whilst they were at work, but he said it so reverently that she was too stunned into silence. “One word and I’ll stop.”

No.

The word should have been easy.

“Don’t,” she whispered, and his face fell, heartbroken, and she could already tell he wouldn’t argue. “Don’t stop.”

She felt her cheeks burn, and the eyes of their audience were piercing into her soul. So, she cleared her throat. “Right!” she snapped. “Back to work!”

The kitchen burst into life once again, giving her the privacy to wink at her waiter. “Later?” he mouthed at her, and she nodded.

The dinner service went by in a blur. It was busy enough that she didn’t have to think about anything but the quality of the food her chefs were serving. She’d rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in, flitting about between stations and helping wherever she was needed, supervising and delegating the tasks, running a tight kitchen as she always did. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a little giddy whenever Eist flew through the double doors, looking like some kind of Oxenfurt actor in his suit, the server’s apron strapped around his waist.

Anticipation curled in her gut, the heat that crept along her skin was from more than just the ovens. There was a hunger in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and she wanted more. She wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked, whether his beard would scratch against her skin.

It was all very distracting, but if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything.

By the time the kitchen was cleaned up, and she’d dismissed the last of her chefs, it was past midnight. Lambert waved her off with a lewd comment and jumped onto the back of Aiden’s motorcycle, the two of them speeding off along the road.

“So,” Eist’s voice came from behind her as they stood in the doorway, watching the motorbike drive off into the distance, and Calanthe spun round in a start. “It’s just us.”

Calanthe smirked, her fingers wrapping around Eist’s tie and pulling him in for a kiss. The waiter groaned and went willingly, their lips melding together in a slow and languid kiss, noses bumping as they explored each other’s mouths. The heat crept along Calanthe’s skin, her heart fluttering in her chest. How had she denied this man for so long? She was already soaking, aching at her core with want, and soon, she grew impatient with the pace of the kiss. Nipping at Eist’s lip, she pushed their bodies together, forcing Eist back into the kitchen and towards the kitchen counter. Another day she would love to take this gorgeous man apart, fuck him over the worktops in her kitchen, but that would have to wait.

She made a mental note to keep her strap in the back of her car.

She had a very good feeling about Eist.

For now he seemed content to please her. He spun them around, helping her to wriggle out of her trousers and ruined underwear before hoisting her up onto the counter. She gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased her clit, slipping inside her wet cunt with little resistance. Calanthe’s head rolled back, her hands gripping the edge of the cold metal counter. The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of their moans and his fingers pumping inside her. It was thrilling, everyone had gone home but there was always the off chance that someone would walk in on them. She moaned, rolling her hips to force his fingers deeper inside her.

“Fuck me, you bastard,” she gasped.

Eist just winked. “Soon, Chef.”

She expected him to finally unzip his trousers but Eist seemed to have other ideas. The waiter fell to his knees before her, pressing kisses along her inner thigh with a soft groan. Her hands threaded into his soft brown hair, guiding him towards her cunt. If he wasn’t going to fuck her then he’d better put that mouth to good use and she was tired of waiting. Eist’s stubble scratched wonderfully against her skin, a reminder of just how strong this man was, and yet he still knelt eagerly between her legs, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“Fuck,” she moaned as Eist’s tongue flicked at her clit, fast and feather light and sinfully good. She thrust forward against his face and he groaned, one hand gripping at her thigh, the other joining his tongue between her wet folds. His fingers pressed inside her as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, moaning as he devoured his feast.

Calanthe’s fingers stroked through Eist’s hair as he ate her out, hips rolling against his face. She felt like she was on fire, her skin so very sensitive and every lick of his tongue had her moaning, crying out in pleasure.

“Stop,” she gasped before she could cum.

Eist groaned but pulled back, staring up at her with dark eyes. His lips were wet and glistening, and he smirked as he wiped his mouth. “Chef?”

Calanthe raised an eyebrow, barely able to catch her breath. “If you don’t get your cock inside me now, there will be consequences.” The waiter closed his eyes and moaned, a visible shudder going through him at her words. With a quick tug on his tie, Eist was once again standing. “If you like eating me out so much-” she purred, “-maybe I’ll have to find something else to feed you with.”

“Calanthe,” Eist groaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Why don’t you show me?” Calanthe challenged.

That seemed to finally spur the waiter into action and he met her lips in a messy kiss, the taste of her own slick on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, desperate and wanton as he fumbled with the zip of his trousers. There was a telltale rip of foil but when he pushed inside her, fuck, it felt so good. She easily stretched around the girth of his cock but he just filled her so completely.

“I’m not going to last, Chef,” he gasped, lips never leaving her’s.

She closed her eyes. That wouldn’t be a problem, she was already so close from all his teasing before. “Get on with it!” she snapped, rocking her hips forward to the edge of the counter.

Every thrust made her cry out, obscene sounds filling her kitchen as they both chased their release. Eist panted as he left messy kisses on her neck, nipping and biting at the tender skin. Her orgasm hit her like fireworks as she clenched around his cock, sparks flying in front of her vision. She gasped wordlessly as he fucked her through the waves of pleasure that just seemed to keep coming. Calanthe swore, the pleasure beginning to wane and her body oversensitive. Eist grunted as he followed her over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. She caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, their breaths mingling as he slowly came back to his senses, slipping out of her with a groan.

She pressed her forehead against his as they panted breathlessly in the otherwise quiet kitchen. One hand gripped onto his shoulders while a leg was still hooked around his waist. There was a disgusting splat on the floor as the condom fell off. Calanthe tried to keep a straight face, she really did but Eist snorted and let out a hearty laugh, his fingers lacing with her’s on the countertop. Mirth bubbled up inside her, a ridiculous giggle escaping her lips as they both looked at the mess on the floor. Soon they were both laughing, hysterically and without any restraint, their post-orgasmic bliss making the whole thing seem utterly hilarious.

“You’re cleaning that up, Eist.”

He groaned, capturing her lips in another kiss with a muffled “Yes, Chef.”

Calanthe rolled her eyes and cupped Eist’s face in her hands. “You can call me Calanthe outside of work, you fool,” she said with a smirk.

And her partner seemed to melt under her touch. Eist’s face lit up in a dopey smile that made her heart skip a beat. He took her hand in his and bought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes… Calanthe.”

#the witcher #calanthe/eist #calanthe x eist #queen calanthe #eist tuirseach #wolfie's witcher writing #novigrad exchange

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vickyvicarious · 4 years ago

Note

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about.

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

#leverage fic #leverage ff #leverage ot3 #hardison/parker/eliot #thiefsome #my fic #anonymous #replies #aah they are hard to write much as i love them

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imagine-loki · 5 years ago

Text

Ragnarok

TITLE: Ragnarok CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3: Reunited AUTHOR: traveling-classicist ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you take care Odin when he was homeless on Midgard (based on the deleted scene from Ragnarok). You take him in and listen his crazy stories about Asgard and Thor thinking he’s just some crazy hobo who needs help. Then one day, Thor and Loki break into your apartment looking for their father. Hela returns in your living room and insanity ensues. RATING: T

AO3 Link: Here

NOTES/WARNINGS: Wow this came out as a big Ragnarok fix-it chapter. These things happen, I suppose. Enjoy, if it’s something that you need. I know some of us feel it.

Also, head to AO3 and please, read the endnote. If you don’t use AO3, I’ll summarize here.

Someone has stolen my material (including this story and my other story, Loki’s Daughter) and every single AO3 authors material and is profiting off of it by marketing an unofficial mobile app called the Fanfic Pocket Library Archive (Unofficial) App. This thing’s been around for several years but as I’m a little new to writing, this is the first I’ve heard of it. I do this for free and receive zero (0) dollars from it. I do it for fun but it’s my intellectual property and no one deserves to make money off of it, especially without my permission.

Please, if you use this app, stop, leave a one star review, report it as inappropriate on whatever store you use (it’s on all the popular ones), and then delete it. This person is hurting fanfic authors like me and many others on this blog! I don’t (and never) encourage sending hate mail to this individual and I don’t recommend you try to contact them directly, please. I don’t know if they know that they’re hurting us but we need to make sure that this app gets taken down.

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Several weeks had passed since Odin had come to live with Theo. They had finally settled into a workable routine. Theo was thankful she could finally work in peace for a full day without Odin bursting into her room yelling about frost giants or the helicopter he thought was an attacking dragon or whatever other mundane event triggered his dementia.

He was content, most days, with reading in the living room. Theo had gotten him a library card and they went to the library several times a week to keep him set up with books. Theo thought about getting him involved in book clubs or other social events but thought he might need a little more time before he could be with other people again.

He no longer spoke about the crazy doctor and he did not bring up the incident that Theo had had with him. For which, she was grateful. All in all, he was a good roommate and Theo enjoyed listening to his stories about Asgard and the battles in the Nine Realms. She was concerned by his comments about the Avenger Thor being his son, but she was not sure what to do about them.

She had asked him how long he had been in New York and he could remember being there for about four years. She assumed he had been upset and displaced during the Battle of New York, like herself and so many others had been. She thought, perhaps, this is where his fantasies about Thor and the Avengers had come from. A lot of people had had psychotic breaks after the aliens attacked. New Yorkers could come back from a lot: freak storms, floods, train wrecks, fires, terrorists, spies. But aliens and super heroes proved to be just a little too much for some.

Her attempts to get him to see a real doctor had all come up short. She did not want to force Odin to do something he did not want to do. She still wanted him to have the dignity of being his own person. He was healthy, for the most part, though she had noticed a bit of bodily weakness as of late. She had just chalked it up to the cold weather and old age. She was slowly working on his alcohol habit. He was down to only a few drinks a week now, instead of one a day. She did have to start hiding the booze in her room, though, after she caught him pinching some beer in the middle of the night one night.

She hoped that with a little more time together, he would come to trust her enough to go to a doctor to address his mental state but for now, as he wasn’t hurting himself or anyone else, she was content with him just being content. She enjoyed living with him. She didn’t feel like it was a chore to take care of him. She loved cooking for him and introducing him to new food.

She learned he had something of a sweet tooth so she kept a jar stocked with cookies or brownies or tarts or whatever recipe she could find. He even began checking out cookbooks from the library that had photos of food he thought looked good or familiar.

“Oh, these look like the apple tarts that Idunn used to make for us. Do you think you could make these? Of course, you don’t have golden apples but I’m sure you could find a decent substitute,” he would say.

“Sure! They look easy enough,” Theo would reply. “Check this one out and we’ll drop by the grocery store and pick up the ingredients.”

When they arrived back at her apartment, she unpacked the groceries. To her surprise, Odin came to her side and helped her. He took out the milk and cheese and a few other things and placed them in the refrigerator. She smiled. She’d have to remove the cereal and oatmeal he put in there later but at least he was trying to help.

He placed her cookbook on the island in the kitchen and took the rest of his books to the living room to read. She put on some coffee for him. She had found that he did enjoy a cup of coffee while he read. She set down a mug for him and he thanked her as he pulled out one of his newest books, a book about modern American politics. He went through books very quickly, so he often checked out ten or more books in a single visit. Among them this time were books about the Afghan wars, the Iraqi war, the American revolution, the Civil War, the civil rights movement, another Norse mythology book, and a book about Nordic style knitting.

She returned to the kitchen and started on the recipe for the apple tarts. She started on the dough and made up the apple and cinnamon mixture. She glanced up at Odin and caught him watching her from over the top of her book. When she caught his eye, he quickly looked down at his book again. She smiled and placed the tart crusts in to bake. When they were done, she pulled them out and added the apple mixture on the tarts. When she was finished, she put the tarts back in the oven.

“Okay, those need a little more time and then we can try them out,” Theo said.

“They already smell delightful,” Odin said.

Theo smiled. She enjoyed how happy he had been recently. It was good to see someone who had been so spiteful and angry and confused, be content and happy with life. Even though, he was still rather confused most of the time.

“Nordic Style Knitting?” Theo read, as she picked up one of Odin’s books from the pile on the coffee table.

“Knitting?” he said, taking a closer look. “I thought that said, ‘knighting’. I must be losing my sight.”

“Aw, I thought you were going to pick up a new hobby,” Theo said, a little disappointed. “Knighting? It has a picture of a woman with a knitted sweater on it looking longingly into mid-distance. How did you think this was about knights?”

“Well, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. That’s what the librarian lady always says,” Odin said.

Theo nodded. “Well, I guess that’s true. But if there’s anything about knights in here, be sure to tell me because that would be the plot twist of the century.”

“Hmph, a king does not have time for knitting,” he said.

“Right, well you’re not much of a King of a the Dumpsters now, are you?” Theo said, smiling.

“Well, I suppose I’m not king anymore,” he muttered.

“Are you happy?” she asked. He looked up at her and smiled. His eye shimmered a bit in the light.

“Most of the time,” he said.

She laughed. “Well, that’s the goal, isn’t it?” She leaned over the couch and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be in my room for a bit. I’ll be out when the oven beeps.”

She walked down the hallway to her room and flopped onto her bed, playing on her phone. The apartment filled with the smell of apple tarts. It made her stomach growl in anticipation. She rolled over on her back, phone raised over her face, playing Candy Crush. She completely lost track of time and before long the timer started beeping in the kitchen.

“What is that! Who’s there?” Odin shouted at the oven.

The beeping and Odin’s booming voice made her jump. The phone slipped from her hands and landed like a brick on her face. “Ow,” she groaned as she slumped off her bed to get Odin away from the oven again before he started beating it with her rolling pin.

“Odin, it’s just the timer, remember? Our tarts are done!” she said, removing the rolling pin gently from his hands. She pulled on her oven mits and pulled out the tray. Odin’s hand went straight for one, but Theo smacked it away. He recoiled holding his hand and giving her a sour look.

“Not now, you crazy! They just came out! They’re still hot,” she said.

He frowned at her and grumbled as he stalked to the living room and plopped down on the couch again. She smiled and shook her head. She waited for them to cool before plating a few for him and some for herself and walking into the living room to join him. She set the plate down in front of him. When she looked down at him, he had his hands on his head again like he did when he was upset and frustrated. A book was open in his lap.

“Odin? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” she asked, setting the plate down on the table.

“Asgard is not a place, I know that, but I have to remember,” he said, hitting his head with his palms.

“No, no, we don’t do that, Odin,” Theo said, stopping him. “Just take a deep breath, come on.” She picked up the book from his lap. It was the Norse mythology book. He grabbed it from her and pointed to the page he was on.

“Look, look at her, I know her,” he said, pointing to an illustration of a woman on the page. Theo read the caption, ‘The Goddess of Death, Hela’. She looked up at Odin again. He was clearly in distress.

“It’s alright, Odin, here have a tart, remember? We were excited about these. They smell really good,” she prompted him with the plate, but he shook his head. He was really distressed if food would not bring him out of this.

“They’ve got it all wrong. They’ve got it all wrong! Stupid Midgardians. Not you, Theo! Them!” he said, pointing at the book and fidgeting. “She’ll come back. I do not know when, but it feels soon. Very soon. She will kill me.”

“Odin, no one is going to kill you,” Theo said, coolly, trying to keep a calm tone.

“No, no, she will. It’s been foretold that she will,” he panted.

“Odin, those are just stories. No one is going to kill you. Did you see that guard dog of a landlord I have downstairs? He’s not going to let anyone in that doesn’t live here. I promise, no one is going to kill you.”

“I must speak with my sons. I must speak with them now! I must warn them immediately!” he said. “Asgard is not a place!” He pounded on his head again. “Why won’t they listen! Why can’t I remember!”

“Odin, please, stop! Don’t hurt yourself!” Theo grabbed both his hands and held them. He stared at her. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead. His eye was bloodshot and glistened with welling tears. Theo sighed.

“Listen. Let me help you. Please,” she pleaded with him, holding his hands. “Take a deep breath.”

“Theo—”

“Shut it! Do as I say,” she snapped.

He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Alright, now let it out.” He did so. “Again,” Theo said, softening her tone now that he was listening to her. She made him take several deep breaths in and out until he was calm. She held his hands so that he could not hit himself.

“Okay, I want you to close your eye and focus on your breathing and make all the other little Odin voices stop talking in your head. Frigga too, if she’s in there,” Theo said. “Sorry, Frigga,” she added, quietly.

“This is silly,” Odin said.

“It’s not silly, just trust me, okay. Rule number seven, remember?” she said. He opened his eye and looked at her.

“Fine,” he grumbled, closing his eye again.

“Good. Sometimes this takes a while. It takes me a while sometimes so just tell me when you have them all shut up.”

She waited for several minutes when finally, Odin said, “Alright.”

“Okay, now let’s think about how this started. You were reading your book and you got to this page about Hela,” Theo said.

“I know her,” he said, quickly.

“Okay, how do you know her? Is she your friend?”

“No, no, no, they have it all wrong here,” he said pointing to the book.

“Alright, alright, well how do you know her? Take a deep breath and think hard about it. Don’t let any of the other voices think over you.”

He closed his eye and scrunched his brow, clearly concentrating hard on this task.

“She… She… is my… daughter,” he whispered. “She is my daughter.” A tear slipped from his eye. Theo looked at him, squeezing his hands. He started breathing hard. His eye flicked around and then up at Theo. “She’s my daughter and I forgot about her. I forgot about her!”

“Oh, Odin,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault,” Theo said, rising up to sit next to him on the couch. She put her arm around him.

He put his face in his hands. His body shook with silent sobs. “I’m a terrible father,” he whispered. “To all my children.”

“Odin, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. I’ve done nothing but push them away and lock them up, punish them for who they are, for who I made them to be. They all hate me. They all think I’m mad and foolish. And I am. I’ve been blind to them.” He collapsed into his hands again.

Theo couldn’t help her own tears at seeing him cry. She rubbed his back and squeezed his arm, trying to think of something to help him feel better. She knew that sometimes, when people broke down like this – which many of her former roommates had on this couch – it was often helpful for her just to sit with them and listen.

“I’m sorry, Odin,” she said, softly. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but the fact that you realize that you’ve made mistakes may mean that there’s still time for you to fix your relationship with your children; that you can ask for their forgiveness.”

“You don’t understand, girl,” he said, shaking his head. “What I’ve done to Hela, to Loki…the eons of torture and brutality I’ve put them through… there is no conversation that can fix.”

Theo was a little scared by what he was saying now. She wanted to be optimistic for him and supportive, but she had a gut feeling there was something more going on here that Odin was not telling her.

“Well,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “We can only try. For right now, let’s just have a few tarts and try to calm down. Maybe, you can think about what you would want to say to your kids if they were here.”

He sighed. “I would want to tell them I love them,” he said. He wiped away the tears from his face and took a tart.

Theo looked at him sympathetically. She tried not to cry herself as she took a tart too. She took a bite. She was impressed with her baking. They tasted really good, immediately improving her mood.

“Mmm,” Odin muttered. “My sons would love these. Frigga, too. They loved Idunn’s apple tarts.”

“Do I do them any justice? Even without the golden apples?” she said, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“They’ll do,” he said with a little smile. He looked up at her. “Thank you, Theo.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said, standing to get a drink from the kitchen. As she walked, there was a sudden pounding on the door. “Now, who’s that?”

She walked back towards the door, but the pounding got louder. “Hang on! I’m coming!” she said, shoving the rest of the apple tart in her mouth and swallowing it in one bite. She could hear muffled voices outside. There was a loud bang on the door that made Theo jump.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Knock it off!”

There was another bang and the door heaved inwards. Theo jumped back and reached for the coatrack. The door gave one last shudder before shattering into a million pieces across her entryway floor. Theo slammed against the wall beside the coatrack, as two men casually walked into her apartment: Thor, the Avenger and Loki, the alien that attacked New York. She reached into her coat pocket on the coatrack and pulled out a handgun, pointing it at Loki’s head.

“Do not come any closer. What the hell are you doing in my house?” she shouted at them.

“Father!” Thor said, stepping over the broken pieces of door to Odin who was standing by the coffee table.

“Thor! My son!” Odin said, putting his hand on Thor’s cheek. “Oh, my sons! I love you!”

Theo did not take her eyes off Loki, nor the sights of her gun. Her hand was steady, though her heart was racing. He was looking at Odin with brows raised in shock at his adoptive father’s admonition upon their arrival. He looked back at the Theo with her gun pointed at his head. He raised his hands slowly and gave her a gentle look.

“I apologize for my brother murdering your front door,” he said, slowly. “Please, allow me to fix it.”

He waved his hand and the splinters of the door began to reform on the broken hinges. Theo felt a wriggling sensation under her foot. She looked down to see a large chunk of the door wiggling to get free as if pulled by a magnet towards its comrades. She lifted its foot and it replaced itself, making the door whole again.

Loki stepped over to it and tested it, swinging it open and shut. “There, good as new,” he said. Theo still had the gun trained on him. He turned back to her. “Please, put that down. We’re just here for him.” He pointed to Odin with his thumb.

“He… He was telling the truth… All this time? And I thought he was crazy…” Theo said.

“Well, you’re probably not completely wrong. I’m pretty sure he’s crazy,” Loki said.

Odin ran over to them and grabbed Theo’s arm, lowering her gun.

“Theo! You’re breaking rule number five, young lady,” he scolded her. “No weapons!”

“It’s my house. They’re my rules. And I get to break them when GIGANTIC ALIEN MEN COME TEARING DOWN MY DOOR!” she shouted, pointing at the brothers.

“I do suppose that’s fair,” Loki said, looking at his brother.

“No weapons?” Thor said. “What kind of house is this?”

“Thor, don’t be rude,” Loki muttered.

“A safe one!” Theo snapped. “Now, explain yourselves right now!”

“My name is Thor, and this is Loki—”

“I know damn well who you are! Why on earth would you leave your father here to become homeless? Why would you say you would come for him and then just leave him here with no way to contact you?”

“That’s a good question,” Thor smiled at Theo. “You want to answer that one, Loki?” he growled at Loki.

“Homeless?” Loki said. “I didn’t leave him homeless here. I left him in a home. For old people. A retirement home. Where he could play bingo and mingle with old Midgardians and tell war stories and be cared for day and night their healer nurse-doctor people or whatever.”

“And that retirement home went out of business,” Theo said, standing on her tip toes to be eye level with him. “I guess they don’t have a mailing address for Asgard, do they!”

“So, what, they just turned him out on the street?” Loki asked.

“Yes! They had nowhere else to put him!”

“What kind of place is this? Just throwing your elders out like trash?”

“Welcome to America, sweetie. You don’t have the money to pay for yourself, you go out on the street.”

“Thor, this is not what I intended,” Loki said, addressing his brother. “All I did was strip him of his memories so he wouldn’t rouse the Midgardians’ suspicions, but I did not do this.”

Thor shook his head at him and rolled his eyes and turned to Odin. “I’m sorry that this happened father—”

“No, I am sorry, to both of you,” Odin said.

“What?” both the brothers said in unison. Loki stared at him with surprise, thinking he had heard him wrong. Odin turned his attention to him.

“I am sorry for how I’ve treated you, Loki. For the lies I’ve told you. For blaming you, when I should have blamed myself. Your lawless nature, these storms inside you; you inherited from me. And I would never wish that on another soul,” Odin said, tears in his eyes. “You are my son. I just hope that you can forgive me now after all that I have done.”

Loki stared at him, taken aback by his words. He had no words of his own. He looked at Thor and then to Theo. She crossed her arms, gun still in hand. He stared blankly at Odin, unsure of what to do or say or even what to think.

Thor too was in shock. He looked back and forth between his father and his brother.

“Father, I think you broke him,” he said, chuckling a little, putting his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“I… I…I do not know what to say,” Loki said.

“That’s alright,” Odin said, putting up his hand. “I don’t expect forgiveness right away. Now, Thor, I must speak with you too.”

Thor wiped his nose with the back of his hand, trying to disguise his man-tears. Theo scoffed. Loki was still searching the room for something that could help him respond. He stepped closer to Theo while Odin spoke with Thor.

“What’s in those tarts?” he asked, suspiciously.

Theo turned her head slowly to glare at him, shooting daggers. “Apples,” she said, feigning hospitality. “And a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar. You’re welcome to one if you want,” she said, though a bit scornful. “And you didn’t answer my question. Why did you leave him here?”

Loki looked uncomfortable. “It’s a long story.”

“Start talking,” Theo said.

“I was not expecting this apologetic Odin. He’s never been this way before. Several years ago, Asgard was dealing with an unexpected war with the dark elves. My brother abdicated his right to the throne and Odin was, well, unfit to rule after our mother died. He was willing to sacrifice every Asgardian warrior we had to defeat the elves just uphold some old family grudge. So, I did what needed to be done and removed Odin from power.”

“Jesus,” Theo said, rolling her eyes.

“I brought him here so he would be safe. I removed his memories with a spell so as to disguise his existence. To keep him safe not only from Midgardians but other powers in the universe that might want him dead. I wasn’t expecting them to throw him out on the street!”

Theo shook her head, not meeting Loki’s eyes.

“But I am grateful to you, Theo, for taking him in. Thor is too, though he may forget to say so.”

“Mmm,” Theo grunted. “How did you even know where to find us?”

“Pfft, that crazy second-rate magician that lives on this island too.”

“Oh no, not him,” Theo whined, as a sparkling portal began to appear in her living room behind Loki. Doctor Strange and Wong stepped through.

“I know, right,” Loki continued. “What a knob. He made me fall through one of his stupid portals for thirty minutes while he tried to figure out where you two were. Man’s not a sorcerer. His magic’s more suitable for children than… he’s right behind me…”

“Hello again, Loki. Theo,” the doctor greeted them. Theo cocked the gun in her hand.

#Loki #Lover #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #ragnorok #traveling-classicist #chapter 3

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sweeetmonstrosity · 6 years ago

Text

Lightning Bug

Summary: In which your king finds out you’ve been keeping something from him.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Enhanced!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing and fluff.

Square filled: Caught red handed

Word count: 1529

Link: AO3

A/N: This one is written for my @marvelfluffbingo card. please, judge kindly! As always, any feedback is appreciated! xx

Storms. They were probably the only thing that completely terrified you. There wasn’t really a significant reason for it, they were just something you despised with your entire being.

Whenever a storm was said to be coming in, you tried to get all your errands done in the days before, so you didn’t take a chance of getting caught in the storm. Usually, it worked without any problems. You never had to venture out. But, of course, the worst storm your small town had ever seen came as a complete surprise to everyone and you ended up stuck right in the middle of it.

The man, Thor, who was the reason for the storm, was made to be your nemesis. Being that he is the god of your biggest fear and all. But, when he found you stranded in his storm, he took you to a hunting cabin a friend told him about.

You were possibly insane for going with him, a complete stranger, minutes after meeting him. But your choices were stay in the storm and panic or get to safety. So, he was your obvious choice.

When you arrived at the cabin, you guys talked for hours. After that day, Thor would come back to visit you any chance he got. For six months the more he came back, the closer you two got. So, you aren’t sure when exactly it happened, but at some point, the giant thunderous idiot had captured your heart.

Now, three years since meeting him, you live together in Asgard where he is reigning King. But, even after all this time knowing him and dating, you held onto a secret. The one thing that you always felt guilty about because you never told him.

Your fear of storms.

You always had a good excuse on why you couldn’t go out with him when he needed to take a walk during his little storms. Always found different ways to ignore them when he was fighting with the Avengers. But you could never tell him. You thought he would lose all trust in you.

For three years, that guilt ate away at your heart until you finally decided to do something about it. Telling him wasn’t an option, so instead while he was sleeping you would borrow some of his powers and create small storms. Going near the water on Asgard, you would sit and focus on keeping the storms small and centered around you. It took months to build up to more then just a sprinkle of rain. Hell, it took an entire month to be okay with having the harsh winds or the sound of thunder surrounding you.

This wasn’t something you could give up on though. This was a big part of the man you were in love with, and you needed to prove to yourself you could face your fear. To overcome the very thing holding you back from experiencing life with him, fully.

For over a year, you worked on getting used to the pieces that ultimately created storms. Working hard on controlling your fear so you could get through this.

It was going to be terrifying, but you had to start combining everything into the perfect storm. You had to take it slow and work up the intensity of it a little at a time. Settling on your plan, you sit next to the water and begin to prepare yourself. “C’mon Y/N. It’s like a brownie recipe. First some clouds, then a wave of wind and three pinches of rain, then you mix. Easy-peasy.”

Taking a couple breaths, you began creating the beginnings of a small storm. Letting it surround your body for a few minutes and raising the intensity to your limit, but you don’t quit. You refuse to.

Another deep breath and you look up while whispering, “okay, see? Easy as pie. Now, about a dash of thunder and small splashes of lightning, Y/N. You’re used to this by now, it’s okay.” You let the thunder and lightning roll in slowly. Where it’s barely noticeable at first, then match its intensity to the rain and wind.

As the storm rages on, it makes you freeze in place. This is a lot different than experiencing the elements separately. So much more terrifying and before the urge to quit comes back up, you can feel him behind you.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” You don’t turn around, choosing to concentrate on slowly stopping the storm.

A sigh, then, “bug, why are you out here this late creating storms?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice, feel it clinging to his skin when he touched your arm.

The same moment he touched your arm, you could feel the storm increase to Thor’s normality. Which was about 100 times what you had it as. He felt you jump, and you hated the fact you were still scared. There is no reason to fear the fucking storms. So, stop being a goddamned cry baby and get over them, Y/N!

“Y/N, look at me.” Feeling his hands turn you around, you keep your head down. “Bug, you are scared of storms?” A silent nod from you is his reply. He cups your cheek and murmurs, “why did you never tell me? This is the reason you never liked to go on walks with me, yes?” Another nod and you wait for the lecture, but it never comes.

Looking up, you see a small understanding smile on his face and it makes you frown.

“Y/N? If you don’t like storms, then why are you in the middle of one?” He questions softly, rubbing small designs into the small of your back.

Clinging to his arms, you mumble under your breath, “trying to stop being scared of them.” As you are talking Thor notices your body is completely relaxed. “I don’t like that I can’t go on walks with you or that I have to silence your storms in our room when you are out there fighting to save everyone. Storms, thunder, they are literally a part of you, my love. Being terrified makes it feel like I don’t love all of you, even though I do!”

Giving your waist a reassuring squeeze, Thor hums as he places a kiss in your wet hair. “Bug, I would not ever think you loved me any less for being afraid of storms. I would also hope you wouldn’t think I loved you any less because of it either.”

He pulls away from you and turns you to face the water. Completely calm and swaying together in the middle of the storm, Thor directs multiple bolts of lightning to strike across the sky. You see them but you don’t move. There is no flinching or jumping, you stay unmoving even as everything intensifies a bit more. He smiles proudly and his voice is awestruck as he whispers in your ear, “if you haven’t noticed, you are completely fine in a size storm that even Loki is sometimes scared of.”

Letting the storm settle into a light drizzle you and Thor begin the walk back home when he asks, “how long have you been sneaking out to do this?” Looking down at your feet you mumble your answer. Feeling a pinch to your side you let out a small squeal and say it louder for him to hear.

Stopping right outside the gates he pulls you in and kisses you breathless. “You my little bug, are one of the bravest people I know for facing this on your own.” Thor grabs your hand again and leads you inside to the kitchen after grabbing you a towel, “you are going to sit while I make you some hot chocolate and then we will go back to bed. Sound good, bug?”

Beginning to dry off your skin and hair you nod and drink the hot chocolate he hands you. There is a silence settling around the kitchen. A comfortable silence. The type of silences that you love because words aren’t needed to prove your feelings.

Once you finish your drinks you hug your boyfriend from behind and mumble into his back, “y’know, it’s because of you, Thor. I wasn’t scared out there because I always feel safe with you.”

Your boyfriend turns to you smiling lovingly at you and kisses your temple. “You were calm long before I got there, bug.” He revealed, proudly. “My little bug conquered her biggest fear on her own. If Rogers and Wilson weren’t jealous before, they will be now.”

Letting out a small laugh you let Thor lead you to the room to finally rid yourselves of your wet clothes. As he’s grabbing clothes for you both, you can’t help but be in awe of this man. Since that first day you met him, he has changed your life in ways you could never imagine. You were thankful that he was there that day to save you. There weren’t enough words to describe how grateful you were.

So, instead of using words, you decided to show him know just how thankful you truly were, all night long, in every way possible.

#marvelfluffbingo #thor #thor odison x reader #thor odinson #thor x you #thor odison imagine #thor odinson fluff #thor fluff #thor odinson x you #thor fanfiction #king of asgard #thor x reader #thunderstorm #god of thunder #marvel fics #rae writes

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kirachama · 7 years ago

Text

more than fake (saeran x reader)

summary: in order to get out of a mixer with your friends on valentine’s you tell them that you actually have a date when you don’t. their enthusiasm prompts you to set up a fake date with saeran. well, at least it’s supposed to be fake... right?

rating: 10+ (warning: it’s long. like. 10k long. why did this happen?)

notes: so this is my (extremely late) valentine’s gift for @twofacedhero for @mysmesecretvalentines‘s event. @twofacedhero‘s been following me for a while so I wanted to do something really nice and it kind of... spiraled out of control which is why it’s so late. i’m not used to writing things this long... ahahaha... anyway, i really do hope you enjoy, dear! thank you so much for your patience following me for so long! T_T i hope you had a good start of the semester!

> link to ao3 <

“You know what’s coming up?”

You gulp, but refrain from answering. Seeing as it’s Heeji, your resident boy crazy romantic, who’s talking she can only mean one thing: Valentine’s Day. You knew it was coming soon. How could you not? It seems like every shop you’ve gone to has some sort of display up, adorn with a variety of flowers, stuffed toys and, of course, chocolate. But it feels like you just celebrated New Years and now it’s almost Valentine’s Day? If it’s going to be like this, summer is going to be on you before you know it.

“Valentine’s Day guys!” she exclaims when no one says anything, her voice a mixture of excitement and frustration. “And since none of us are dating anyone you know what that means, right!? We are drinking!”

“Should we organize another mixer?” another friend, Jieun, suggests. “Just because none of us are dating anyone doesn’t mean that we can’t find anyone.”

Heeji slaps her on the back. “That is a great idea, Jieun! I’ll leave it to you to find us some cuties!”

Everyone else around the table starts cheering and chatting happily about the possibility of meeting someone and it turning to something more. However, you’re nowhere near as excited as they are at the thought of a mixer. You’re not against going out drinking with just your friends, but going to a mixer is not ideal. You haven’t really told them about your secret crush on Saeran yet. But going to a mixer feeling the way you do doesn’t seem fair. Not to you, and not to any person who might be interested in you at that mixer.

“Um…” you squeak and everyone’s eyes are on you. You take a deep breath, “I… can’t go.”

“Whaaat?” Heeji whines loudly. “Why not?”

“I…” you try to think of something to say. There isn’t much you can say to keep Heeji from dragging you to that mixer, but you need to think of something, so you say the first thing that comes to mind. “Actually, the truth is… I have a date!”

Everyone at the table stares at you silently. Do they not believe you? Is it because you’re just saying that now? They all glance amongst themselves before Jieun takes it upon herself to say what everyone must be thinking. “You… Have a date?”

“I-I do!” you answer firmly, there’s no going back now that you’ve said it.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Heeji nearly squeals and grabs you by the hands excitedly, her eyes practically sparkling.

“I was… embarrassed…” you mumble, unable to look her in the eye.

“Oh, you know there’s no need for that!” Jieun interjects encouragingly. “I’m so happy for you though! Don’t worry about coming to the mixer, okay?”

“Ah… Are you sure?” The whole point of your lie was to get you out of this, but seeing your friends so excited over this fake date is tugging hard on your sense of guilt.

“Of course! We don’t want to get in the way of your hot date! Make sure you send us pictures, okay?”

Despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you nod. Now that it’s gone this far, you have to see this lie through to the end.

That means you need to find a date.

When you get home from meeting up with your friends, Saeran’s in the kitchen eating some ice cream. This is perfect. If you're going to be going on a fake date, you'd much rather it be with him than anyone else. But before you can go on a date with him you’ve got to ask first. “Hey Saeran?”

“Mm?” he responds as he takes a bite.

“…a-are you free on Wednesday?” you stammer, feeling a sudden wave of nerves taking over you. Even though this isn’t supposed to be a real date just asking him is scary enough.

“…yeah, why?”

“Um, well, I was hoping you could maybe do me a favor…”

Saeran puts down his spoon and eyes you curiously. It’s not too often you come around asking for favors, especially from him. When he doesn’t say anything, you realize that he wants you to elaborate before he agrees to help you out. Which seems fair enough.

“So, uh,” you pause for a second to gather up your courage. “ I.. I was… I waswonderingifyoucouldgooutonadatewithme!”

The words come out in more of a flurry than you intend for them to. Saeran looks utterly confused though, meaning you’ll have to ask again. You take a deep breath and speak again, this time a little more slowly. “I was… wondering if you could go on a date with me on Wednesday.”

“…isn’t that Valentine’s Day?”

You nod slowly, feeling a heat slowly encroaching on your face. Truthfully, you’re a bit surprised that he knows, but then again his brother and his fiancee, the most lovey dovey couple that you know, have probably been talking about it.

He stares wordlessly at you, but you see a pink flush rise in his cheeks. Then he looks away, from you and stutters out, “…w-why?”

“Oh… um…” you laugh a bit from embarrassment. You might as well tell him. “Truth is… my friends wanted to go to a mixer that day, but I don’t really want to go, so I told them I was going on a date…”

Saeran doesn’t say anything and you peek over at him. The blush he had going on is now gone, replaced with a moderately annoyed look. After a moment he says, in a rather abrasive tone, “…so you only want to go on a date so you don’t have to go to this mixer?”

If you were going to be perfectly honest, you’d actually like to go on a legitimate date with him. But… you can’t bring yourself to say it, so all you can do is nod.

“…no,” Saeran answers with a sense of finality and stands, empty bowl in hand. He walks over to the sink and begins to wash it instead of just leaving it for someone else.

You sigh, your heart sinking from the rejection. It would have been too easy, too perfect if Saeran had said yes. You’re not sure if you’d been counting on him saying yes, but you don’t really want to ask anyone else… You’ve made your bed, though, so now you’ve got to lie in it. If Saeran won’t go on this date with you that just means you’ve got to find someone else. You reach into your pocket and grab your phone and start to mumble to yourself, “…maybe I’ll ask Zen… or Yoosung… one of them might say yes.”

“What.”

You nearly jump, surprised that Saeran is still in the kitchen. He’s giving you a dirty look that’s a mixture of anger and disbelief. Under the harsh scrutiny, you start to explain yourself,“S-since you said no, I thought I’d maybe ask someone else…”

He continues to glare at you, “…why do you need to go on a date with someone so badly?”

“Because I told my friends I was!” you answer. Maybe it would have been better to not lie to them in the first place… But you can only imagine how mad… or how hurt they’ll be if they find out you lied to get out of the mixer. “…they asked for pictures, so I can’t just say that I went on a date… I need some kind of proof.”

“Mmm…” Saeran’s expression changes as he seems to be mulling something over. Could he be… reconsidering? You don’t really want to get your hopes up in case he’s not, but if he is… After some internal debate, he finally grumbles “…Fine. I’ll do it.”

“R-really?” you can’t help but stare at him. Just a bit ago he seemed very against the idea. And now he’s agreeing? What brought the sudden change of heart? “You sure?”

“…yeah,” he replies, albeit a bit gruffly. You’re just about to cheer but he raises his hand to stop you. It seems him doing this for you comes with conditions. But that’s okay, you figured something like that. “…you need to give me chocolate.”

You blink. Chocolate? That’s all he wants? You’d thought that he’d maybe demand something more of you. Slave for a day or something like that… But then again, Saeran’s got a bit of a sweet tooth and Valentine’s chocolates are pretty darn good. You always like to buy them when they’re discounted after Valentine’s is over. “Okay, I’ll get you some chocolates.”

“No,” Saeran crosses his arms and gives you a smug look. You do not like where this seems to be going. “I want homemade chocolate.”

All the color drains from your face. Homemade chocolate? He can’t be serious, can he? “Saeran, you know as well as I do that I can’t cook to save my life. It’d be better for all of us if I just bought chocolate.”

Saeran merely shrugs. He doesn’t seem to care in the slightest even though he really should. It’s his own health that’s at stake here. “Homemade chocolate or no date.”

You groan, “…it’s your grave that you’re digging.”

He shrugs again and heads back toward his room, “It can’t be that hard. It’s just chocolate.”

You let out a heavy sigh. That’s what he thinks.

“Ugh…” you grumble quietly as you scroll through recipes on your phone in the living room.

Whenever you think of Valentine’s chocolate, the image of a bunch of different bite sized chocolates encased in a giant heart shaped box comes to mind. However, after a simple web search it appears that homemade valentine’s chocolate extends to more than just candies. It includes cookies, cakes, brownies… almost the entire dessert spectrum. You reach up to rub your temple. This too complicated. Why did he have to ask for something homemade? It really would have been so much easier to buy something.

“Whatcha doin’~” Saeyoung’s voice calls from behind and you turn your head to see him peering over your shoulder, looking at your phone.

“I’m… trying to find a good recipe for a Valentine chocolate…” you answer sulkily.

“Oh?” he circles around the couch and plops down on the other end. Saeyoung shoots you a playful grin. “Who’re you making it for~?”

You give him a flat stare. The look on his face makes it obvious that he knows the answer. He seems to realize too, because he laughs, and says, “I think anything he’d like anything you make.”

You glance back at your phone, eyeing the various pictures of desserts on the screen. He’s right, though, Saeran would like any one of these. Your main concern is whether or not you can make them so that they’re safe for human consumption. Maybe you can, if you stick to just one recipe… But they all seem so good. It’s hard to pick. You groan, “Buying something would be definitely easier.”

“Then why don’t you?” his grin suddenly turns mischievous. “You know, I-”

“I am not buying your brother one of your shady products,” you cut him off before he says anything more. You vaguely remember him talking about making some special candy product for Valentine’s that may or may not involve kimchi chocolate. There’s no way in hell you’re giving Saeran one of those. He’d hate you forever! “Besides, he wants something homemade.”

“Ohh~ Is that so~” Saeyoung’s tone gives you the feeling that he knows something that you don’t. But he always seems to give off that kind of aura. “You know, you could just buy something and say it’s homemade.”

You frown. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it, but you don’t want to lie to Saeran. Even if that means subjecting him to your abysmal cooking. You’ll just have to try your hardest.

“You want to make him something, don’t you~? Is it because you really li-” you promptly cut Saeyoung off, by whacking him the face with a pillow. But just because he didn’t finish the sentence doesn’t mean you don’t know what he was going to say. You feel your entire face heat up from embarrassment..

“I-Is your fiancee making you something too?” you decide to try and change the subject.

Saeyoung shoots you a mocking glance, but still answers your question. “That’s right~ She said it’d have PhD. Pepper in it too~”

You blink. A soda flavored chocolate? That sounds kind of interesting. Maybe she’ll have leftovers for you to try.

“Oh!” Saeyoung exclaims, as if he’s just realized something. “Why don’t you ask her for help? I’m sure she’d be more than willing, especially if you tell her it’s for Saeran!”

That’s actually a good idea. You’ll have to make sure to ask her next time you see her.

Knock, knock, knock.

You roll over on your bed and grab your phone off the side table to check the time. It’s only nine in the morning. You can afford to sleep a little longer. If you don’t answer, maybe whoever it is at the door will leave you alone for now and come back later. You pull the covers over your head and close your eyes again, hoping that you can get back to sleep soon.

Knockknockknock.

The person at your door knocks again, this time with a little more urgency. You consider trying to ignore them still, but then they knock a third time, and you finally relent, reluctantly raising from your bed to answer the door. On the other side is Saeyoung’s fiancee, grinning cheerfully at you.

“Good morning!” she chirps.

“…morning…” you respond sleepily. “…what’s up?”

She shoots you a knowing grin and leans closer to whisper, “So~ A little birdy told me that you needed some help making Valentine’s chocolate for Saeran, is that right?”

You nod slowly.

The young woman claps her hands together excitedly. “Great! I’m planning on going to the store and grabbing stuff to make Saeyoung’s cupcakes today, so if you’d like you’re welcome to come with!”

It’d be a good idea to go with her. If you do, she might be able to help give you some ideas on what to make Saeran. Plus, it helps that she’s the best cook in the house, so she can give you some pointers so you don’t accidentally poison Saeran. You give her a nod and her smile widens.

“I was going to leave in about twenty minutes, so that gives you time to get ready!” the young woman chortles happily before skipping off.

You shut your door so you can change. As you’re grabbing something to wear it occurs to you that you’ll have to think of an outfit to wear on your ‘date’ with Saeran. Of course, you could just not since it’s not a real ‘date’ but part of you also wants to look decent. Plus, you have to send pictures to your friends, so it’d be best to look as cute as you can, right?

But you can worry about that later, your primary concern is the chocolate. You toss on something decent, grab your phone and wallet and leave your room to go to the bathroom so you can fix your hair and brush your teeth. Just as you’re about to reach out and open the bathroom door, it opens, revealing Saeran. You step aside so that he can move past and he comments, “Are you guys are going to make the chocolates today?”

“…um, maybe. I know we’re going shopping for the stuff for sure today.”

He gives you a smile and you’re not sure if he’s actually means it or if he’s just mocking you, “I look forward to it.”

“I’ll… do my best,” you respond a bit gruffly, heading into the bathroom. God, you hope Saeyoung’s fiance can help you make something edible. If he’s mocking you, that’ll teach him and if he’s not… well, he’ll be happy, which is good too. A win-win situation. You quickly get ready and head out to the living room where Saeyoung’s fiancee awaits.

“Ready to go?” she asks.

“Yep.”

At that moment, Saeyoung bounds out of the foyer, twirling a set of keys on his fingers, “Then let’s go~”

The three of you head to the garage and hop into Saeyoung’s largest and least conspicuous looking car. The ride to the store is rather short due to Saeyoung’s speedy driving so you don't really have time to look up any potential recipes. He drops the two of you off, saying he’ll be back in about an hour or so before speeding off.

You follow Saeyoung’s fiancee into the store, quickly stepping aside to grab a cart to deposit your purchases before returning to her. She walks briskly through the store like a woman on a mission, grabbing things for cupcakes like flour, eggs and…. Potato chips?

“Are we getting some snacks for Saeyoung too?” you wonder aloud. She grabbed Saeyoung’s favorite flavor so maybe he wanted her to pick some up while you guys were here.

“Oh! No, actually,” she giggles. “I thought it’d be cool to top Saeyoung’s cupcakes with chocolate covered potato chips!”

You’re not sure how to feel about ‘chocolate covered potato chips.’ On the one hand it sounds absolutely weird (and right up Saeyoung’s alley) and on the other, the mix of salty and sweet sounds kind of appealing. It’s something you’d have to try to decide if it’s something you’d like or not.

“But enough of what I’m planning, what do you want to do?”

“I… still have no clue,” you admit with a sigh. “I was hoping to find some inspiration at the store.”

“Hmm, I see~” she hums thoughtfully. “Well… do you want to try baking something? You don’t have to make cupcakes like I am. You could try cookies or brownies.”

You can’t help but make a face. There’s something about baking that’s even more terrifying than regular cooking is to you. People have told you that you can get away with fudging measurements and times with cooking, but not baking. Apparently, baking is an exact science where you could mess the entire thing up if you don’t follow the directions to the letter.

Saeyoung’s fiancee laughs, “I’ll take that as a no, then. There are other things you can make that don’t involve an oven.”

“…yeah, but they’ll probably involve the stove,” you grumble.

“If it didn’t it wouldn’t really count as homemade…”

“Good point,” you sigh. “So what kinds of things could I make…?”

“Hm…” she taps a finger to her lips as she thinks. “Well, there’s fudge, truffles… You could probably also do chocolate covered strawberries- that’d be super easy!”

That they would be. You know they sell microwavable kits for chocolate dipped fruit too, so you wouldn’t even have to use the stove. But something about it seems… cheap. It’s a strange feeling. You want to do something easy, but at the same time, you really want to wow Saeran despite the limits of your own capabilities. Either way, you make note of it- you can do it if the other two suggestions don’t pan out.

You pull out your phone and do a quick web search for fudge recipes. That looks simple enough too. It seems you can flavors other than just plain chocolate too. It’d be a little more work, but it seems doable. You open another window in your phone’s browser and search for truffles. The initial result gives you mushrooms so you try again, this time specifying that you’re looking for chocolate truffles. The search results you get this time look far more favorable, but damn those look fancy, far fancier than the fudge or chocolate covered strawberries. One result boasts a list of seventeen easy recipes so you check that. Skimming through the first recipe, you find that it’s kind of similar to the fudge recipe but more effort is required since you’re shaping it too. You scroll through the other recipes, trying to decide if it’s worth the extra effort for these truffles when one particular image catches your eye. That looks kind of like…

“Well, did you find something?” Saeyoung’s fiancee asks, noticing that you’ve been quiet for a while.

“..yeah,” a smile starts to slowly form on your face. It might be a bit hard, but you just might be able to pull it off. And if you can, you just know it’ll be totally worth to see Saeran’s amazed face when he gets what you have planned. “…I think I did.”

When you and Saeyoung’s fiancee get home from the store, none other than Saeran is waiting for the two of you in the kitchen. You have a sneaking suspicion that he wants to get a sneak peek at whatever chocolate surprise you have planned for him. But as soon you get all the groceries in the kitchen Saeyoung's fiancee shooes both twins out the kitchen so you can put the classified goods away. It seems that while Saeyoung knows that his Valentine’s chocolate has PhD Pepper in it, he doesn’t much else about it. And obviously, his fiancee wants to keep it that way.

Once everything is all put away, you head back toward your room since the chocolate making will all be happening tomorrow when both boys are out of the house. Saeran, after getting kicked out of the living room, seems to have settled himself on the living room couch, busying himself with a botany encyclopaedia. Just as you’re about to pass him, he closes the book and looks up at you, “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask something about our… date,” he hesitates on that last word, looking flustered as he says it.

“Sure, what’s up?”

Saeran doesn’t respond right away and after a moment he slowly says, “What were you planning on doing?”

“….to be honest, I haven’t really thought about it,” you admit shamefully.

“…why not? Since this was your idea, don’t you think you should be the one thinking up the plans?” Saeran complains snarkily.

“Well, I’ve been a bit preoccupied since someone requested I make them homemade chocolates,” you bite back. “Trying to make sure that I don’t kill you, you know.”

Saeran frowns, but doesn’t give you a smartass retort. Sounds like you win this one. You sigh and plop down on the couch next to him, “…why don’t we think up something together? It’ll be better that way, don’t you think?”

When Saeran perks up a little you can’t help but wonder if maybe this is what he wanted all along. It makes sense for him to want to have some input on what you do, he probably doesn’t want to be dragged around doing just stuff you want to do when he was already so reluctant to go on this date. You snicker a little and ask, “…do you already have something in mind?”

He blushes, making it obvious that you hit the nail on the head. Does that mean he’s actually been thinking about this date? Maybe, despite his outward reluctance, he’s actually been looking forward to this? Your heart starts to race a little at the thought of it, but you shake your head a tiny bit. You need to focus, and you don’t want to let yourself get disappointed if you turn out to be wrong.

Saeran pouts a bit, but reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. He unlocks it and brings up a window before extending it in your direction, “…maybe we can do this?”

You gingerly take his phone so you can examine what he’s showing you more closely. It seems to be a webpage for a restaurant that’s doing a special promotion for Valentine’s Day. You skim through the details but it seems they’re offering an exclusive three course dinner. Once you see the dessert that’s part of this dinner you immediately understand why Saeran wants to go here. It’s a specially handcrafted ice cream and cake dessert that looks almost too pretty to eat.

“I think that’s fine,” you say, handing Saeran his phone.

His eyes light up, but he still asks to confirm, “…you’re sure?”

“Of course! I mean, you’re doing me a favor by going on this date in the first place,” you reason, then, after a second, you hastily add. “Plus the dinner looks really good, especially the dessert.”

“…yeah…”

“So, we’ll do that then!” you grin, glad that you now have a solid plan for the date. “…oh, but it looks like we need reservations. I guess I should call…”

“I’ll do it,” Saeran says a little suddenly.

“Oh, really? Thanks!” You’re glad that he’s decided to take that on since it’s one less thing to worry about, though it seems strange for him to volunteer so readily. “…is there anything else you want to do?”

Saeran’s expression turns contemplative. He seems to have something on his mind, and you wait for him to voice what it might be. But instead he says, “…no, it’s not a real date, so it’s not necessary to do more than that.”

Is it just you or does he sound a bit… disappointed? He really seemed like he was thinking of something, but apparently not. You mask your own sense of disappointment behind a smile, “…that’s right, huh… I just wanted to know just in case….”

You laugh a little, but it feels a bit forced. Hopefully, Saeran can’t tell. You rise to your feet and say, “Now that we know what to do, we’re pretty much set, right? …well, I still have to make the chocolates, but we’re doing that tomorrow so. Uh.”

God, this feels so awkward now. You don’t know what to say. “I’ll… I’ll try to make sure they’re edible!”

Saeran nods a little and you rush back to your room. Once you get there, you shut the door and lean against it. It’s supposed to be a fake date, so you don’t know why you’re getting one little thing like that get you all riled up. Is it because he showed some interest in it? Because he had an idea? Did that give you hope?

Did you want this fake date to be something more?

When you think about it, the answer to all of these questions is yes. You want him to be interested. You want to have hope. You want this date to be something more than fake. You want all that because you have feelings for him.

Maybe the need for a fake date prompted you to actually ask him, but you didn’t need to tell him it was fake. You could have just said that you wanted to go on a date. Who knows? He might have said yes.

Feeling frustrated, you hold your head in your hands. All you can do now is hope it goes well. Maybe if it does, it can spark something more…

The day has finally come. It’s finally Valentine’s Day. Saeran told you that your reservation at the restaurant was for 5PM, and, despite yourself, you spend pretty much the entire afternoon rifling through your entire wardrobe to find something suitable to wear. You definitely don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, but you also don’t want to look like you don’t give a damn about this date.

Because you do! But you don’t. It’s kind of confusing whenever you try to think of your expectations concerning this date, so you try not to.

“I think this looks okay…” you mutter, looking over your chosen outfit for what feels like the millionth time. What you ended up choosing isn’t the cutest thing you own, but you could probably count it somewhere in your top three outfits. Maybe you should try on one of the other ones just in case.

A sudden knocking on your door causes you to nearly jump and you scramble to grab your phone. You knew the time was getting close but you didn’t realize it was already 4:30! The person at the door knocks again and you answer, “Yes?”

After a minute, the door opens and Saeyoung’s fiancee peeks in, “I-I don’t mean to rush, but are you almost ready?”

“Uh, yeah!” You wonder if maybe Saeran sent her to check on you. If he’s already ready, you don’t want to keep him waiting any longer, but… “Hey, quick question, is what I’m wearing okay?”

She gives you an inquisitive glance and steps into your room to get a better look at your outfit. Her face lights up instantly, and she nearly squeals, “You look absolutely adorable! Saeran’s gonna love it!”

“Ah… I don’t know about that… It’s a fake date, after all.” But despite that, you still find yourself blushing at the compliment.

“Fake or not, it’s still a date,” she chides while wagging a finger at you. “And who knows, maybe it’ll become real along the way.”

Something about her expression makes it seem like she knows something you don’t. The look reminds you of the one Saeyoung gave you a couple days back. You have the feeling you know what they’re hinting at but it’s better not to hope.

“I… guess,” you sigh.

“Now, none of that!” Saeyoung’s fiancee scolds you as she forcefully bops you on the nose. “He’s waiting for you, you know?”

“Tell him I’ll be out there in a minute.”

Saeyoung’s fiancee nods before leaving the room. Once she’s gone, you grab the delicately wrapped box filled with the chocolates you made for Saeran and stare at it. You figured your room was a safer place to store them just in case Saeran tried to sneak a taste. Luckily, all your hard work managed to yield something edible. According to Saeyoung’s fiancee (since you were far too nervous to try them yourself), they even taste good. Part of you doubts her words, thinking maybe she was just being nice, but another part thinks she’d tell you if they were bad, you doubt she’d intentionally poison her soon to be brother in law.

A loud shout from the living room reminds you that you’re on a time crunch and you jam the box into a gift bag and hurry into the living room. As you approach, you can hear Saeyoung and his fiancee trying to soothe Saeran as he gripes about you taking so long to get ready. But as soon as you enter the room, all conversation seems to cease.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you apologize, feeling a bit nervous since everyone’s eyes are on you. “We won’t be late, will we?”

When Saeran doesn’t answer right away, you turn your attention toward him. He’s staring right at you, but he seems to be in a daze for some reason.

“…Saeran?”

“Huh?” he seems to snap out of it. “…it’s not too far, we should be fine.”

You let out a relieved sigh. It’d suck if you missed the reservation, especially if it was because you took too long to get ready. Saeran waves you over toward him so you can leave, and you realize that he actually put some effort into his appearance for this date. His normally unruly hair has been combed down a bit, and he’s decked out in a suit, tie, blazer and all. It makes you kind of wish you’d actually gone with your number one outfit.

“Uh…” you debate whether or not you should actually say something or not. Saeran glances questioningly down at you, and you gulp. Might as well. “You look… good.”

Saeran’s eyes widen and he averts his gaze, an obvious blush spreading across his cheeks. “…you…too.”

That, in turn, causes you to turn red. You weren’t expecting that. “I… I’ll give you the chocolates after dinner. Don’t want you ruining your appetite.”

Saeran looks a bit nonplussed that he has to wait, but doesn’t voice any complaints.

The two of you stand there, somewhat awkwardly, for a moment, before Saeyoung strides over, draping an arm around both yours and Saeran’s shoulders. “Now kids, you go out there and have a good time, but don’t stay out too late~”

Saeran swats at his brother, but Saeyoung evades the attack, giggling as he flees to safely behind his fiancee. Clearly annoyed, Saeran shoots a glare in Saeyoung’s direction before ushering you toward the garage. When you get there, he grabs a set of keys off the wall before leading you to one of Saeyoung’s cars, hitting the remote to unlock it as you get close.

“Wait a sec!” you exclaim, stepping around Saeran, putting yourself between him and the car, “We’re taking one of your brother’s cars?”

“Yeah. So?”

You’re just surprised is all. Saeyoung treats his cars as if they’re his babies. But then again, if his ‘precious little brother’ asked to drive one you can’t really see Saeyoung turning him down. “Wait, can you even drive?”

Saeran clicks his tongue, “Of course. Did you think my brother was going to drive us around?”

If you’re going to be honest, yes. You laugh a bit nervously instead of answering and Saeran lets out an exasperated sigh. He steps past you once more and around to the passenger side of the car. Wait. Didn’t he just say he was driving? You’re about to ask when he opens the door and motions for you to take a seat. Stunned by the sudden gentlemanly gesture, you merely gawk at him. After a moment, Saeran clears his throat, and you hurriedly sit. “Th-thanks…”

Saeran shuts the door as soon as you’re in the seat and moves to the driver’s side. He slides into his seat and puts the key in the ignition, turning the car on. Then, Saeran takes a deep breath before he pulls out if the parking spot.

The ride to the restaurant teaches you two things: one, Saeran indeed knows how to drive and two, it had to be Saeyoung who taught him. No other sane person would drive like that and live to tell the tale. Because of that, Saeran manages to get the both of you to the restaurant a couple minutes before the reservation time.

Just like he did when you left he comes around and opens the car door for you, this time extending a hand to help you out. Hesitantly, you take his hand and set the chocolates down on the seat. You immediately note how sweaty his hand feels. Is he nervous? Or something else? He gently tugs you out of the car and leads you to the restaurant, his hand still firmly holding onto yours.

Inside, the restaurant is packed with at least a dozen other couples obviously waiting to get a seat. Saeran merely walks past them and up to the hostess, who greets him with a smile.

“I have a reservation at five for two,” he tells her smoothly.

“Your name?” the hostess asks automatically.

“Saeran Choi.”

She stares at him for a moment before looking down at the computer in front of her and after a second says, “It’ll be just a moment, sir.”

Saeran nods and steps away off to the side. You follow after, stopping so you’re standing side by side. The notification sound from your phone goes off and you reach into your bag to pull it out. Of course, it’s a text from Heeji.

hope ur date is going well! Don’t forget the pics u promised!

Shit! That’s right! You said you’d take pics for them, didn’t you? Since the two of you are still waiting to be seated, it might be a good time to take a quick picture. The lighting in the lobby is relatively bright, so the picture should come out fairly well. “Hey Saeran?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you mind if we take a selfie real quick?” you ask, clapping your hands together to plead with him.

“…why?”

“To commemorate our date, of course!” you exclaim, then add, as an afterthought. . “…also because my friends are asking.”

Saeran gives you a deadpan look, ordinarily that would mean no, but you can’t let that deter you. Part of the reason you’re on this date in the first place is because you need visual evidence. You give him the good old puppy dog eyes, hoping that maybe you’ll be able to sway him, “Come on, please? Just one little picture?”

It doesn’t seem like Saeran’s going to relent, so you start to think of ways to possibly barter with him. But to your surprise, he gives in rather easily, “…okay, fine.”

You let out a small cheer and open the camera app on your phone. It’s set to the rear-facing camera, so you have to switch to the front-facing one. Once that’s set, you scooch closer to Saeran and angle the camera so that the both of you are visible. You raise your free hand and make a little finger heart with your thumb and index finger. Then you nudge Saeran with your elbow, “Hey, you do it too!”

“… why?”

“It’s cute, don’t you think?”

“I… guess.” But despite his reluctant tone, Saeran still raises a hand, mimicking the gesture. You adjust the camera a little more before giving him more instructions, “Great! Now smile!”

You beam widely, then hit the shutter button in the side of your phone a second later. The screen flashes and you hear a click, meaning the picture’s been taken. You relax from your pose to check the picture you’ve taken. Unfortunately, Saeran isn’t sporting the huge grin you’d been aiming for, but there is a faint smile on his face. You like it. It’s very… Saeran.

He peeks over your shoulder look at the picture and after a second asks in a confused tone, “You’re not gonna ask to take another one?”

“Nope!” you chirp, attaching the photo to a text you’re sending to Heeji. “I actually think this one came out pretty nice!”

“Even if I’m not smiling like an idiot?”

“Yep.” You hit the send button . “This suits your personality better.”

Saeran turns red and looks away from you. “…will you send me a copy of that picture too?”

You blink. Now it’s your turn to be confused. “Why?”

He turns even more red, “I… just… it’d be just useful is all!”

“For… what?”

“I-in case I need to tell someone I have a girlfriend or something!” he nearly spits at you. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to you, Saeran doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to make up a girlfriend for any reason. But none the less, you send him a copy of the picture.

The hostess calls for the two of you and you walk back up to the desk. You notice a few of the others waiting to be seated give the two of you envious stares. Most of them were there before you, so you can only guess they didn’t have a reservation and are stuck waiting until either someone doesn’t show or if someone leaves early. You can only imagine how long the wait must be.

The hostess grabs a couple menus and leads you to wherever you’ll be sitting. She asks a couple standard questions like how’s your night been and if it’s your first time at the restaurant which Saeran answers. You kind of thought it when you got here but now that you’re walking through the restaurant, you realize that this place is really fancy. When you get to the table, the hostess pulls out one of the chairs for you, and you sit as she moves around the table and pulls out the other for Saeran. Then she hands you both the menu and reaches for the napkin on the table. With a graceful wave of her arm, she undoes it and places it neatly on your lap, then does the same for Saeran. Yep. This place is totally fancy.

“Narae will be your server today,” the hostess informs you. “She’ll be over in just a moment.”

Both you and Saeran nod before looking back at the menu. You recognize it as the special Valentine’s menu that Saeran showed you a couple days ago. At the time, you’d only really paid attention to the dessert since you figured that’s what he wanted to come here for, but the appetizer and entree choices look really good too…

A young woman, who you assume is your server walks up to the table, “Hi guys, I’m Narae and I’ll be your server for the night. Can I start you guys off with some drinks? Some wine perhaps?”

“Just water is fine for me,” you answer. You don’t really feel like drinking right now.

She looks at Saeran who says, “Water for me too.”

“Would you guys like some Perrier? Or is just regular water alright?”

“Uh… just regular water is okay.”

“Alright!” She bobs her head up and down cheerfully. “And are you guys ready to order or do you still need a couple minutes?”

“A couple more minutes, please.”

“Okay! I’ll get your waters and put your appetizer in the meantime! ” The waitress reaches over and takes the two wine glasses off the table since you and Saeran won’t be having any need of them. When she’s gone you redirect your attention to the menus, trying to decide on an entree. Luckily, the entree choices for this special Valentine’s menu is limited to just two, but…

“The steak and the ravioli both sound really good…” you lament, unable to choose. “…which one are you gonna order, Saeran?”

“Mmm… Dunno…” he responds, eyebrows scrunched as he examines the menu himself. If anything he’s probably more focused on the dessert than the main course so he may not really care either way…

“… hey, I’ve got an idea!” you exclaim suddenly. Saeran gives you an inquisitive look and you explain. “Why don’t you order one entree and I’ll order the other and we can try both!”

Saeran just stares at you blankly. Was that a bad idea? Was it too… couple-y? You raise your hands, ready to take back what you’ve said, but before you can, Saeran nods a bit, “…yeah… That’s fine.”

“Awesome!” you cheer, glad to have solved that problem. Is it just you or has Saeran been more amicable since you left the house? You would have figured he'd be a lot more reluctant to agree with you on anything given the situation. But this entire time he's been... nice. Like he's trying to be a good date, despite the situation.

As if on cue, your server reappears by your table, she pours water in your glasses from a pitcher and asks, “Are you guys ready to order?”

“Yes!” you look back down at the menu even though there’s no need to since you know what you want. “Can I get the pasta and he’ll have the steak?”

“Of course!” The waitress smiles, apparently committing the orders to memory. “How would you like your steak, sir?”

Saeran looks up and answers after a beat, “Medium rare.”

“Excellent! I’ll go put those in right away! The first course should be coming up soon!”

“Okay, thank you!” you smile, and the waitress bows a bit, taking the menus from both you and Saeran before walking off.

When she’s gone you glance over at Saeran, who’s just sitting there quietly. It’ll be awkward if you both just sit here silently the entire meal, so until the appetizer comes, you’ve got to try and think of something to talk about.

“So, this place is really fancy!” you say, looking around at the interior. “How’d you hear about it?”

“A famous pastry chef works here,” he explains. “I saw a special about her on TV.”

“Ohhhh.” That makes sense, despite how good the other courses are, the both of you are really here for the dessert. “Is that why it’s so busy here?”

“Maybe.”

“Then it’s really good we were able to get a reservation on such short notice!” With all those couples that had been waiting, you have the feeling that maybe the restaurant starts taking reservations for Valentine’s at least a couple months in advance. A triumphant smirk slowly spreads across Saeran’s face. You stare at him, confused why he’s got that look on his face. Then it clicks. He did something, didn’t he? You shoot him a suspicious glare and lean closer so that no one nearby can hear you. “Did you do something?!”

Saeran gives a noncommittal shrug, which, to you, is the same as admitting guilt.

You groan, “Saeran. Didn’t you see all those people waiting? You can’t just ha-”

“Wait a second,” he raises a hand to cut you off. “I didn’t hack anything.”

You throw him a pointed stare. “Really?”

He gives you a pouty glare before looking away. “…the day you asked to go on this date I called about a reservation.”

You blink. That means he’d been thinking about coming here before you even discussed it? You’d realized he’d must have wanted to since he so readily suggested it, but you didn’t think he’d actually been thinking of it since the very beginning… Maybe that’s why he’d been so eager to make the reservation instead of letting you do it.

“They were full, obviously,” he continues, grumbling as he goes. “But I called everyday to ask if anyone had cancelled. Eventually someone did and they gave me that person’s slot.”

When he’s done, he looks away from you, blushing once more. Finally, you ask, “…did you really want to come here that badly?”

He nods, still refusing to look at you.

“I… see… I’m sorry for accusing you of using… unsavory methods to get this reservation,” you bow your head down. He must have been really happy when he’d scored that reservation. The dessert here must really be out of this world if he called everyday trying to get a reservation.

One of the waitstaff comes over to your table with a tray, and you figure that must be the appetizer. You’ve maybe been here around ten minutes, so you're a bit surprised it's come out so quickly. Then again since there’s only one appetizer the kitchen is probably cranking it out, especially since it’s such a busy night. The waiter places a bowl of soup in front of the both of you with a cheerful “enjoy!” before walking away.

You look down at the soup, the menu said it was some kind of bisque. It looks kind of creamy. You pick up your spoon and slowly bring it to your mouth to take a small taste. Luckily, it’s not so hot that you can’t eat it… and in fact, it’s really good! You quickly finish off the bowl of soup and find that Saeran has done the same.

Almost as soon as you’re done eating the soup, the entrees arrive. You’re so glad that you suggested that you both of them since they look absolutely delicious. You pick up your fork and examine the ravioli. They’re a bit big to eat in one bite, so you’ll have to use the knife. To be honest, since you use chopsticks to eat most of the time you've only used a knife a handful of times. Since it’s pasta, your fork should be enough to cut it, right? You look up at Saeran to see how he’s doing and find he’s actually pretty good with a fork and knife. Noticing that you’re staring, Saeran looks up at you, “What is it?”

“Oh, just admiring your skills,” you reply honestly.

He smirks at you, “Do you want me to cut your pasta for you?”

“I-I’m fine!” you squeak and Saeran laughs. He looks down at the piece he’s just cut and spears it with his fork before raising it up and holding it toward you like he’s trying to feed you. You stare at the steak and then back up at Saeran. He’s not really….

“Come on, you said you wanted to try it, right?” he tells you in a teasing tone, but despite that his eyes look oddly earnest. Wait a second. This was supposed to be a fake date, wasn’t it? But doing something like this… it makes it feel so real. You’d figured he’d just cut a piece and put it on your plate and you’d do the same… “Well…?”

Either way, you shouldn’t leave him hanging. Shyly, you lean forward and tentatively eat the steak off his fork. As soon as it’s in your mouth you pull back to your seat, and chew the steak slowly. You’re far too embarrassed over what just transpired to even register the taste of the steak and you don’t want to ask for another piece.

“What about mine?”

You redirect your attention toward Saeran, and he’s giving you a shit-eating grin. That little…He’s totally teasing you! Well, two can play at that game. You raise your fork, cut one of the raviolis on the plate in half and thrust it toward his face. In a sickeningly sweet voice you say, “Say ‘ahh,’ sweetie~”

This time it’s Saeran’s turn to stare at the food being presented to him. He turns bright red as he contemplates what to do. After a moment, he lurches forward and eats the ravioli in the same manner as you did just moments before. You smile and ask, “So, how does it taste?”

“…it’s good,” he utters quietly, looking adequately flustered after you tossed that attempt to tease you right back in his face.

You grin victoriously and pick up the other half of the ravioli on the plate and take a bite. He’s right. It is good. The both of you finish off your respective entrees without exchanging another bite with one another. When you’re done, someone comes by quickly and clears the plates off the table. Now it's time for the thing that you’ve both come here for: the dessert.

A couple minutes later, your waitress comes by with a plate and what looks like a metal ladle. When she sets the plate down, the thing on the plate isn’t the dessert Saeran showed you online. Instead, a shiny, bright red, heart shaped candy-like thing is taking up most of the entire plate. You look up at the waitress in confusion, but she gives you a playful smile. She pulls a lighter out of her pocket and ignites it under the ladle, waving it back and forth, heating it, or whatever is in it, up. After a minute or so, she puts the lighter back in her pocket and pours the contents of the ladle over the candy heart. The liquid in the ladle drizzles down the sides of the heart, melting the candy away. You gasp softly when the cake that you’d been expecting is revealed beneath the candy heart. The waitress chuckles at your reaction and places a pair of spoons down for you and Saeran.

“Please enjoy, guys!”

When she’s gone you look up at Saeran, wide eyed, “That was really cool! Did you… know that was going to happen?”

He slowly nods.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Would have ruined the fun,” he chuckles, picking up his spoon.

You grab yours and reach to take a scoop of the cake. To be honest, you’re a bit hesitant. It really is too pretty to eat, but you know if you don’t make your claims now, Saeran will just eat it all. When you take a bite, you realize that it tastes every bit as good as it looks. Between the two of you, you finish the cake in record time. Once you’re done, the waitress comes by once more, check in hand.

“How was it, guys?” she asks, setting the check down on the table.

“It was good!” you respond happily. “Thanks so much!”

She laughs a little, “Well, glad to hear you enjoyed it! I’ll be back for the check in a few!”

The waitress walks off, and you reach for the check but Saeran swipes it out of your grasp. “Hey!”

“What?” his voice is all nonchalant. If anything, you should at least pay for dinner since you were the one who invited him at all.

“Let me pay,” you tell him firmly.

“No.”

“But why? I’m the one who invited you!”

Saeran shifts a bit, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “‘Cause I said so.”

“But!” you cry in protest.

He pulls out a few bills and stuffs them in the folder. “No.”

“At least let me pay half or something,” you try to reason with him, reaching out to try and grab the bill from him, but his arms are too long and you can’t grab it. He quickly waves the waitress over, and she comes by, moving so she can take the bill without you getting too close to it.

“Do you need change, sir?”

“No, you can keep the change.”

“Thank you so much, sir! I hope the two of you have a good rest of the night!”

“Thanks! You too!” you smile, before throwing another glare at Saeran. There was no need for him to pay for dinner, or at least all of it. He merely ignores you and rises from his seat with you following suit. The two of you head out of the restaurant and back toward the car. Once again, he opens the door for you, and this time you sit without hesitation, grabbing the bag of chocolates off the seat before you settle down.

As Saeran moves to the driver’s side, you remember that you didn’t make any plans beyond dinner, so unless you think of something spur of the moment this (fake) date is pretty much over. You can’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the thought. It’s been a little bit awkward at times, but it’s also been kind of fun, and you’re… not really ready to let go of that yet.

Saeran sits down and starts the car and you contemplate whether or not you should say something or not. The worst he could possibly say is no, but that refusal also could imply a more profound rejection. But it’s better to have tried than not, right? You take a deep breath.

“Hey, Saeran?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you…” you falter for a second, before taking another deep breath. “…I think there’s a ferris wheel nearby, right? Do you wanna… maybe go?”

Saeran thinks for a moment, then he says, in a slow voice, “…it might be crowded too… couples like that kind of thing, don’t they?”

He’s got a point. It is Valentine’s Day after all. There will probably be a pretty long line. You sigh, but it can’t be helped. “…I… I guess we should just head back then! I’ll give you your chocolates when we get home!”

Saeran briefly gives you an odd look, before shifting the car into reverse. He pulls out of the parking lot silently, his face scrunched up like he's thinking hard about something. When he turns onto the street you realize he’s driving away from Saeyoung’s house, but not toward the ferris wheel.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” is the only answer you get out of him meaning you’ll just have to wait.

As he drives, you reach into your purse to check your phone. Apparently, Heeji showed that picture you sent her to your other friends, because some of them texted you too. All of them are really supportive, which is really nice, though you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt since this was supposed to be a fake date, but… you glance at Saeran, who’s focused on the road before him. It certainly doesn’t really feel that fake, but you can’t get your hopes up either.

“Hey.”

You look at Saeran, confused. “What?”

“Close your eyes for a minute.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do it!” Saeran insists, then adds. “…please?”

“O…kay…” you agree and close your eyes. You can feel Saeran turn the car, and the he begins to slow before coming to a complete stop. “…can I open them now?”

“Not yet. I’ll tell you when.”

You hear the door open and shut on his side, then a moment later, your door opens. You reach for your seatbelt and undo it before tentatively reaching for Saeran’s hand. When you find it, he gently tugs you out of the car.

“Oh, bring the chocolate too,” he instructs.

You nod and hold onto the bag. Once you’re out of the car Saeran shuts the door behind you and leads you somewhere. You can hear a distant chatter, so wherever he’s taken you has people, but it doesn’t seem that… populated? But it is a bit of a walk. You shiver a little from the cold. The sweater you’re wearing isn’t doing a good job of keeping you warm, but made to look cute, not functional. Saeran suddenly stops walking, and you nearly bump into him.

“Saeran?” The uncertainty in your voice is evident.

“Just a second.” He lets go of your hand, taking away the small source of warmth you had. You hear a rustling sound and then you feel something warm drop on your shoulders. Is that Saeran’s blazer? He put his jacket over you to keep you warm? The pitter-patter of your heart begins to accelerate. That’s just… not fair.. This isn't a real date… But he just keeps doing things that make you question how fake it really is. You almost open your eyes, but Saeran puts his hand over your eyes. “Wait a little bit longer, we’re almost there.”

“…okay, but are you gonna be okay? Aren’t you cold?”

“…I’m fine,” Saeran replies, grasping your hand once more, this time a little tighter. He pulls you so that you’re closer to him, and that heart rate of yours just jumps through the roof. This is really too much…

You walk a little further, turning every now and then, but eventually Saeran stops moving. Have you arrived at your destination? You’re still not sure where you are. But it smells kind of… floral? No… But something like that… Kind of outdoorsy. Are you at a park or something? You wait for Saeran to give you the okay to open your eyes, though, just in case.

“Go ahead and open your eyes.”

Slowly, you do as he says. The first thing you see is an assortment of bright pink, red and white lights strung up on all of trees. It looks almost like a Christmas display. You look around and it seems you were kind of right- wherever he brought you has all sorts of flowers and other various plants all over, but it seems a bit excessive for a park. “A garden?”

Saeran nods.

“It’s so pretty…” you take a few steps forward to take in the lights. You didn’t know that there were places that did light displays for Valentine’s Day too… It’s really nice. There are a bunch of other couples walking around but the garden is so large that it doesn’t feel crowded at all. “Thanks for bringing me here, Saeran!”

He gives you a tiny smile and approaches you again, ushering you to follow him. Saeran leads you down another, much smaller pathway until you reach a bench. Then he sits down and motions for you to sit down next to him. When you do so, he holds out his hand and you figure he must want those chocolates now. Hesitantly, you hand him the bag. Saeran takes it from you and reaches in, pulling out the box.

“You went all out on the wrapping, huh,” Saeran comments, gently touching the perfectly tied ribbon.

You laugh, albeit a little nervously, “Yeah… I actually had a lot of fun wrapping it up all nice and pretty! Doesn’t account for taste, though…”

“Mmm.” Saeran pulls at the ribbon and you watch with bated breath as he lifts the cover off of the box. You breathe a tiny sigh of relief when you find that all nine of your little truffles didn’t get messed up at all during their time in the box, though you did try to make sure to wrap them well. “These are…?”

“They’re chocolate truffles!” you begin to explain. “I ended up making a bunch of different ones since I wasn’t sure which you’d like best. There’s a strawberry one, a mint chocolate one, a brownie one… when I was looking at pictures of them, they kind of reminded me of scoops of ice cream, so i thought it’d be a good idea… Though I don’t know… Maybe I went kind of overboard making so many different kinds…I do hope you like them though…”

While you’re rambling, Saeran moves his hand so that it’s hovering over the different truffles as if he’s thinking of which one to eat first. He finally chooses one and gingerly picks it up with his thumb and forefinger. Then, he looks at you, “Hey, open up.”

“Wha-” Saeran stuffs the truffle in your mouth while you’re speaking, forcing you to eat it. This taste… it must be the cookie dough truffle. You have to admit that it’s actually pretty good. This is probably the first time you can say that you’ve made something edible. And not just edible, it even tastes good too! Feeling proud of yourself, you can’t help but grin as you swallow. It’s probably not the healthiest thing to be able to make, but at least it’s something.

“So how was it?” Saeran inquires with a serious look. “Was it good? I’m not gonna die if I eat one, right?”

You laugh again, this time more earnestly, “It was good! You’ll be fine if you eat one! But that was the only cookie dough truffle in the box…”

“Oh…” Saeran looks down at the box, then back up at you. “It’s fine.”

You blink. “Are you sure?”

He nods, then he stops moving, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Just as you’re about to ask, he leans down closer to you, closing his eyes as he approaches. He softly presses his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. Then, after a moment he pulls back, his eyes fluttering back open. He offers you a hazy smile, “…you’re right. It was good.”

You open your mouth and try to say something but no words come out. Did he… He totally did… He just kissed you! You feel all the air in your body escape you and you sag back against the bench. Saeran kissed you. And he said it was good…

While you sit there, stunned over the kiss, he picks up another one of the truffles and pops it in his mouth. You snap back to reality, waiting to see what he says about it. Then you can ask him about that kiss.

“…this is pretty good,” he remarks, grabbing another and eating it. You’re relieved to see that he likes the chocolates that you worked so hard on, but now your focus is elsewhere.

“Saeran, why did you kiss me just now?” you demand, getting straight to the point.

He stops munching on the truffles to look at you, “…isn’t it obvious?”

Your face feels warm and you look away, feeling a bit embarrassed, “But wasn’t this supposed to be a fake date?”

“…maybe to you,” he answers in a meaningful tone, causing you to look back at him. “But it’s been real to me this whole time.”

“…what…?”

His expression grows more exasperated, “…do I really have to write it out in crayon for you?”

“I… uh… yes.” At this point there are some rather obvious conclusions that you can draw, but you’d much rather hear him say it so that there’s no doubt. Saeran sighs, and draws closer once more.

“…will you make me these truffles again next year? Not as a someone asking for a favor, but as my girlfriend?” he asks, looking you directly in the eyes.

“…yes,” you nod your head up and down vigorously.

He grins at your response and leans in for one more chocolate flavored kiss.

#mysme secret valentines 2018 #mystic messenger fanfic #saeran choi #mysme fanfic #saeran x reader #god if i had the time i really would work on this more #idk about saeran here either #omg #anyway i really went up to the wire with this one #weeps #it's 11PM on the 20th here

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Starting Over Chapter 17 ~The Gathering~

Claire felt like she was floating by Jamie's side, the warm, firm hand at her back the only thing keeping her grounded. He introduced her to guests as they garnered curious attention, delaying the inevitable meeting with his parents. After a quick glance to the far side of the garden, she saw Jamie's family busily fussing over food and serving drinks from a makeshift gazebo, still unaware of her presence. She tried to focus on the words exchanged, names and faces, glad that Jamie was doing most of the talking.

To her surprise, no one so far recognised her from the tabloids' stories. Maybe they were trying to be polite and didn't want to bring it up. Whatever was the case, there was an evident fascination when Jamie made it apparent she was with him. A hand was constantly and strategically placed at the small of her back, subtly sliding down now and again. Or pulling her in, whenever a man, young or old spoke to her, staking his claim in primaeval fashion. And the way he looked at her when she spoke, there was a softness in his expression she'd never seen before.

The last time she was here in Lallybroch, she'd been entertaining kids in a stifling doggie's costume in Geillis' place and was a week away from marrying Frank. So much had happened since then and she felt like she was caught up in a whirlwind that wouldn't let up. After Jamie had asked her to come and live with him in London and be his girlfriend, it had been like a culmination of her youthful daydreams coming true. But she wasn't naive. She knew she was setting herself up for an epic heartbreak.

Instead of fleeing far and fast from a renowned playboy and commitment-phobe, she'd decided to show him that being in a relationship wasn't so bad. Between agreeing to be his date at the televised British Sports Award and being his girlfriend, she'd intended to prove to Jamie he didn't have to spend his life wondering what it's like to be with someone. It would be her gift to him, as their time together would be his gift to her. She intended to hold at least a small part of herself back in the process, to dampen the blow when he eventually left. Or found someone else more compatible who would embrace the world of celebrated public figures. Or realised definitively long-term commitment weren't his thing, insecurities or not.

The more time she spent with Jamie, the more he unveiled a part of him whether it was a piece of the past, a hope for the future, or a vulnerable side. In more ways than one, he'd proven time and time again he cared. How many times had he shown up for her? Too many to count in such short space of time. In the past, she'd thought herself in love with the cocky rugby sensation, but she was precariously falling for this newer, more complex man and way deeper than she ever could have with her youthful ideal of Jamie.

A hand touched her face, and she looked up. She realised they were alone now and Jamie was staring back at her. He had several days worth of scruff, lending him a rugged edge, the afternoon sun highlighting the worry in his eyes.

"There ye are," he murmured. "Are ye ready?"

Claire mentally shook herself. "Yes, of course." He was giving her an odd look, probably noticing too much, and she didn't have the nerves to explain what was going through her mind. So she gave him her best smile. "I'm ready ...whenever you are."

His eyes searched her face, teeth sinking onto his lower lip. "What's going on in that pretty head of yers?"

"Food and drinks."

He suddenly laughed out loud. "Is that so? And here I thought ye were thinking about us."

_ Unbelievable! _ One minute he seemed so unsure, and in the next, he was cocky as sin. "Aren't we going to see your parents or have you changed your mind?"

"Changed my mind? Never." He grinned, his boyish charm pulling her in once again as he tapped an index finger on her nose. "My parents would never forgive me if ye left Lallybroch without seeing them." Then he straightened up and looked beyond her head as if seeing something there. "Do ye remember that day when I saw ye wearing that bloody awful doggie costume?"

A giggle snuck out. "How could I forget? I gave you some harsh upbraiding that day."

Jamie took a closer step in her direction. "That day, before ye took off yer mask, yer voice sounded familiar, and it reminded me of a time or someone I'd met before."

"Oh, but we've met before your nephew's birthday," she reminded him. "I treated your injured hamstring during a game ..."

"No." He blew out a breath, taking her hand in his. "I meant, it felt like I knew ye very well ...on some deeper level. It really bothered me a lot after ye left. And then that day when ye were trying to escape yer wedding, and ye fell into my arms, I realised I dinnae ken ye from anywhere. I just knew ye. Am I making any sense? Ye were familiar to me even though we hardly knew each other."

She stayed motionless for some time, his deep and even breathing the only thing she was conscious of. Her innate curiosity dared her to look into his eyes and interpret his expression and demand him to explain further. Instead, she smiled and stared at the hollow of his throat. "James Fraser, you are really good at this relationship thing. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say, you've done this before."

He cocked his head to the left, trying to catch a glimpse of her eyes. "I'm glad to know I'm doing something right," he whispered.

This time, she looked up and her eyes locked with his. "So far, you're earning brownie points by the bucket loads. Keep it up and ..."

"What?"

"I'll take you out on a date, Beauchamp-style!" she teased.

He arched an eyebrow, apparently very intrigued. "And what exactly is a Beauchamp-style date?"

A loud voice interrupted their private moment. "There ye are!"

Jamie shut his eyes and quickly planted a kiss on her forehead. "_ Ah, fuck! _Here we go! Remind me later where we left off."

Laughing, Claire turned and saw Rabbie coming their way.

"Ye keeping Claire all to yersel', aye?" Rabbie scolded, punching Jamie on the arm. "Ma was wondering what's keeping both of ye so long."

"Got held up by guests," Jamie shrugged, slinging an arm around his younger brother's shoulders. "I see ye're responsible for the cocktails. I can't believe Jenny is letting ye handle the drinks after ye replaced Da's vintage whisky with tea. Did ye trade yer balls for the privilege?" Jamie grinned.

"Fuck off, Jamie," Rabbie said, good-humouredly, shoving Jamie's arm away. Then he winked at her. "Joe says ye eat a lot of veggies. We have some grilled veggies on skewers." He pulled her in for a quick bear hug and a peck on the cheek. "When I told my pals, Jamie was bringing a lass home, of course, naebody believed me. Weel, it looks like ye just won me fifty quid." He slapped Jamie on the back. "I'm curious, Claire ... what do ye see in my brother? He's mardy most of the time, and on top of it all, he's ginger!"

Claire grinned. "It's all about the freebies in rugby, ye ken," she mimicked in her best Scot's accent. "And I'm banking on Jamie to introduce me to his former teammates. There's one there I'd been crushing on for ages."

Jamie grunted, and Rabbie roared. "I doubt that he'll introduce ye to his rugby mates, Claire. Better not warm up to that idea." He put an arm around his brother and knuckled his belly.

Jamie smirked. "Where's wee, Jamie?"

"He's taking a nap. He got sore belly after I fed him ice cream. Jenny doesnae know, but dinnae tell her though; otherwise, she'll throw a fit. C'mon! Ma and Da are waiting."

Jamie and Claire walked hand in hand behind Rabbie laughing. The easy camaraderie and playful banter between the brothers nicked at Claire's heart, causing a dull ache. From the stories she heard, the Fraser family seemed very close-knit, and she wondered what caused Jamie to be wary of relationships.

They approached the gazebo, and Claire noticed that the guests have clustered in groups at the tables scattered across the lawn.

"Ma, they're here!" Rabbie announced, grabbing two clean champagne flutes from the table and preparing Buck's Fizz.

A woman tossing salad turned around and smiled. She was wearing a simple button-down white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbow and loose linen beige pants. Her auburn hair was neatly pulled back into an elegant chignon, and her cornflower-blue eyes lit up the moment she saw them. She gave Jamie a soft reprimanding look. "Ach, Jamie! It took ye long enough." Then her eyes met Claire's, and she beamed. "And ye must be Claire. Let me take a look at ye." She wiped her hands on a teatowel and came around the long table.

"Ma, we got held up by guests and introductions. Ye ken what it's like with the people in Broch Mordha."

"Never mind that," she said, waving a hand at him. "So what do we have here."

Jamie turned to Claire, amusement fanning out on his face. "Ma, this is Claire. Claire, my ma, Ellen."

"Och, but ye are so bonnie," Ellen said, pulling her in for a long hug. And then she held Claire out by the arms and smiled at her warmly. "I've heard so much about ye from Willie and Rabbie. I can see now why my darling boy is besotted. Ye have such pretty eyes and the palest skin I've ever seen." She took Claire's hand and squeezed it. "Ye must be hungry, dear."

"Famished," she smiled, glancing at the spread on the table. "Did you make all these? They all look scrumptious."

"Och, no," she laughed, linking their arms together. "Jenny made most of it. It's all easy summer recipes and mostly salad. The most laborious work is happening at the barbecue. I left it to Brian, Ian and Willie to do the grilling." She led Claire through the garden and patted her hand. "Ye'll meet Jenny soon enough. Her wee boy has a bit of a sore tummy and wants his mummy." They walked towards the barbecue area, talking about Jenny's cooking skills and Claire suggesting fennel tea for her grandson.

The garden was extensive, just the way she remembered it, with flowering bushes bordering it. The tables they passed were protected from the summer heat with huge umbrellas, and some of the younger guests, preferring the sun on them, were sat on the open grass. At the far end, was a large barbecue made of bricks fit for a professional chef, complete with chimney and a countertop for prep work.

When they finally got there, Jamie and Joe were already assembled by the grill, animatedly and loudly conversing with Willie, Ian and Brian about sports.

Willie saw them first. "Claire! Ye came." He gave her a hug and a loud kiss on the cheek, followed by Ian, while everyone spoke at once. She was fast becoming used to their trademark hugs, and if she wasn't careful, she could easily fall in love with Jamie's family.

A broad-shouldered man hunkered over a bag of charcoals looked up and smiled. He looked like an older version of Willie and Rabbie and nothing like Jamie at all, except for the clear blue eyes. His dark hair was peppered with grey, but his face looked youthful. When he stood up, he was as tall as his sons, his age and experience bestowing him a more commanding presence.

"Ah, Claire, we meet at last! I'm Brian." Instead of taking her extended hand, she was treated to another Fraser bear hug while Jamie grinned at her over his father's shoulder. When Brian stood back, he smiled warmly and took a glass of Buck's Fizz Rabbie was holding out and offered it to her. "Welcome to our family home. What do ye think of Broch Mordha?"

She took a sip of her drink and watched Brian flip some steaks on the grill. "It's stunning and peaceful. Thank you for having me," Claire replied.

"Not at all. During the summer, Ellen loves to host parties, and it's a perfect excuse to get the whole family and friends under one roof. There's always the odd one from the village that makes it to the invite list, and I personally think, some of them are only here to pry on Jamie," Brian explained, as he plated some cooked meat and vegetables into separate platters.

"Now, now, dear," Ellen cut in, placing a hand on her husband's back. "Ye ken well the folks around here are protective of our Jamie." She turned to face Claire. "The people here are just a curious lot, ye ken. They mean no harm even if they seem like ...how shall I say it? Inquisitive."

Rabbie chortled. "Inquisitive?! That Laoghaire is a bloody pain in the arse. She has been bugging me for days asking me if Jamie is seeing someone." He looked at Jamie and tipped the bottle of beer at his brother. "I think she fancies ye."

"Robert Brian Gordon Fraser! Watch yer language!" Ellen scolded. "Laoghaire is a nice girl, and I didnae raise ye to be so uncouth towards our guests." Even though she gave her son a disapproving look, Claire could see the love radiating from her eyes, seemingly happy to have her whole family in Lallybroch.

Willie threw a beer bottle cap at Rabbie. "Ye're just miffed 'cos it's Jamie she fancies and not ye."

"Miffed? That'll be right, ye bawchops. That lass is as bright as a five-watt bulb. If I start talking to her about anything other than celebrities and fashion, her eyes start to glaze over."

"Rabbie! That's enough," Ellen gasped.

"What? It's true, ma! She thinks Mona Lisa was painted by Leonardo di Caprio." All the men laughed, including Brian, but they sobered instantly when Ellen frowned at all of them. Unrepentant, Rabbie continued. "And just the other day, she asked me for the name of the boat in the film Titanic."

Ellen glared at the younger Fraser. And then at her husband as if to tell him to do something.

It was becoming obvious Brian was trying to suppress his own laughter but was failing miserably. "Here. Take this," Brian said gruffly, passing the platter of meat and vegetables to Rabbie. "This should haud yer wheesht."

The rest of the lads turned and busied themselves, smirks on their faces still evident. Each grabbed a platter to put on the buffet for the guests while Ellen looked on disapprovingly at them, letting them know talking about other people in a bad light will not be tolerated.

"Lads will be lads," Ellen clucked her tongue. "Come, lass, let's get ye something to eat." She pointed to the big table meant for the family. "Ye're sitting with us, that's if ye can stand all the raillery and wisecracks from my boys."

"I'm quite used to it," Claire smiled. "And I've heard worse. Growing up with my uncle, he's often in the company of mostly men from the archaeological sites. Although they're like family, some of their banters and stories aren't for the faint-hearted and those easily shocked."

"Ah, poor darling. Jamie told me ye were orphaned at a young age," Ellen squeezed her arm and gave her a solemn smile. "Ye must tell me all about yer adventures and how ye came to Scotland. But first, we eat. Go and sit down and I'll finish up the potato salad."

Claire was about to follow Ellen when two tugs at her dress grabbed her attention. She glanced down and found wee Jamie looking earnestly at her. Recognising Jenny's son from his fifth birthday party, Claire smiled. "Hello there," she said, crouching down and extending a hand. "You must be, wee Jamie. I'm Claire."

Wee Jamie looked her over with a keen curiosity only a child exudes. She waited patiently for his response. After a few heartbeats and glances to their audience, his face broke into a grin, and he planted a wet kiss on her cheek, his arms going around her neck. "Hello, Claire. Are ye an angel?" he asked, scrunching his nose and stepping back to get a better look at her.

"Oh." Claire was caught off-guard. "Actually, no. I'm a doctor," she replied, doubtful if she said the right thing to the child.

"I think ye are an angel because uncle Jamie said ye fell from the sky."

Willie hunched down next to the boy and whispered loud enough for Claire to hear. "She is an angel working as a doctor. But don't tell Claire about uncle Jamie snogging the dog at yer party. Otherwise, uncle Jamie will be in big trouble."

Wee Jamie's eyes widened, and his hands flew over to his mouth, causing the brothers and Joe to laugh out loud.

"Weel then, it looks like approval has been granted," an amused familiar voice said.

Claire straightened up and came face to face with Jenny, who was half a head shorter than her. It was a wonderment for Claire that Jenny didn't inherit her brothers' height even though, her features bore all the hallmarks of the Fraser genes.

Jenny hugged her and whispered in her ear. "So happy to see ye without yer doggie mask on."

Claire grinned. "You know!"

Jenny smiled and winked at her. "Aye, Rabbie told me." And then she leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "And thank ye for bringing our Jamie back to us. We've all been so worried about him this past year. He looks healthier and happier now, thanks to ye," she said, clasping her hands.

Claire felt the heat crept up her face. "I didn't do anything, Jenny," she admitted. "It was Jamie who helped me." She didn't mention the wedding nor Frank as she wasn't sure how much Jenny knew about her story.

Jenny's blue eyes sparkled. "Either way, it doesnae matter. I'm just so happy that Jamie is in a better place than he was before. Now, come and let's eat."

She glanced over to Jamie and saw him watching her with a peculiar expression on his face. Concerned, she walked over to him. "Is everything alright?"

"Aye," he nodded, his thumb caressing her cheek. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead, he took her hand. "Come, Sassenach, let's eat. I'm hungry."

Determined to enjoy this day and the lively company, Claire didn't press Jamie and let him guide her to the table. The hours passed with grilled meat, prawns, assorted salads and wine. By the time the guests have left, and only her, Joe and the family remained, a gentle buzz hummed in her blood, fueled by delicious food, great conversations and fine whisky. Jamie had edged his chair closer to her, and his hand now rested on her thigh. She glanced up at him as he enthusiastically delivered a rugby anecdote, relishing the laughter that erupted around the table.

Jamie looked happy and contented to be with her and surrounded by his family, a far cry from what he used to be all those weeks ago. He was attentive and caring, and all during their meal, he often touched her hand, made sure she was alright and kissed her on the cheek every time he got up. No one asked questions about how they got together nor mentioned anything about her story in the tabloid papers. It was as if, her and Jamie's troubled past had been forgotten or totally erased. Not wanting to mar the lovely time she had by examining every detail of her day, she leaned her head against Jamie's shoulder and allowed herself to relax.

She was beginning to get drowsy when Jamie's phone rang. Lifting her head, she watched him grabbed his mobile.

"It's my agent, Forbes," Jamie explained, looking down on the screen before answering.

Everyone hushed in deference, and Jamie nodded gratefully.

"Hey, mate, how are ye?"

As if sensing something momentous was about to unfold, nobody talked nor moved, except for Brian, who got up and refilled his son's glass with whisky. Even wee Jamie stopped making vrooming sounds with his toy truck and looked up at his uncle.

Squeezing her hand, Jamie looked at Claire and smiled. "Aye, aye, we'll be there in Glasgow for the award's night, and I'm bringing my girlfriend with me," he said to the phone.

"Aye, ye heard me right. I'm bringing my girlfriend."

There were a few nervous laughs around the table, as eyes landed on Claire. She shrugged and smiled, letting them know she understood that it was unusual for them to see Jamie with a girlfriend, let alone hear him say it.

A long silence followed, and Claire watched the different emotions that flittered across Jamie's face, wondering if it had something to do with the network job. In the end, his expression became too impassive to read as he listened and waited patiently for his turn to speak.

"No! Not happening!" Jamie snapped, suddenly standing up and walking away.

All eyes remained on Jamie, watching him pace back and forth at the other end of the lawn. Judging the way he walked and the rigidness of his back muscles, Claire could tell Jamie wasn't liking what was being said on the phone.

Not knowing what was happening, everyone at the table could only speculate with the worried looks being exchanged between them. Claire tried not to think the worse and occupied herself by playing with wee Jamie on the grass.

A good ten minutes passed by before Jamie came back.

"Jamie, lad, what is it?" Ellen was the first to ask. "Did ye no' get the job at the network?"

Jamie let out a humourless laugh and looked at his mother. "The directors want me for the job, alright, and they dinnae mind me bringing Claire to the awards. But they dinnae want her sitting next to me in the front row nor photographed with me by the press."

Claire stood up and smiled at Jamie, relief spreading across her chest. "Jamie, it's alright. I don't mind if I'm not photographed with you, and I'm happy to sit anywhere at the awards if it means getting you that job." And she meant it. After her picture had been splashed across the newspaper a few weeks ago, she'd already decided she hated the intrusion. She was perfectly happy to stand in the shadows and let Jamie shine. "Besides, I'm not made for the limelight, and I'm hardly photogenic. I'll be cramping your style," she joked, hoping to ease the strain etched on his face.

Jamie blew out a breath and dragged a hand down his face. "It's a PR thing, Claire. They want me to be photographed and sat next to another sports celebrity."

Jenny shooked her head and raised her hands in the air. "Why do ye look like as if it's the end of the world or something? And who is this other sports celebrity? "

Everyone waited with bated breaths as Jamie looked at Claire nervously. "Geneva Dunsany," he whispered.

"What?!?" the whole family asked in unison.

Joe looked confused. "Whoa, who, what?!? Who the hell is Geneva Dunsany?"

Claire knew exactly who Geneva Dunsany was, after having followed Jamie's career right from the start and read every article that had been written about him, including all his supposed women. Geneva Dunsany was a three-time gold medallist and part of a rowing quartet team representing Great Britain and was the only woman to have ever been linked twice to Jamie. She was tall, elegant and attractive and she'd won Sport's Personality of the year twice in a row and awarded damehood by the Queen for her contribution to British sports. How in the world would she ever be able to compete with the British sports' poster girl?

She'd seen this coming, and even though she hadn't expected it this soon, she resolved to be alright about this. _ Ah, well, it was good while it lasted. _

Grabbing a glass of whisky from the table and not caring who it belonged to, she raised a glass to Jamie and forced a smile. "Hey, at least, your date is in shipshape." She gave him a two-finger salute and downed the whisky.

It was supposed to be a joke on Geneva's rowing skill, to lighten things up, but Jamie didn't find it funny at all. In fact, to her astonishment, his face looked like thunder, and he looked like he was about to throttle her.

_ Uh-oh! _

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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fitnesshealthyoga-blog · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/12-wellness-instagram-accounts-to-motivate-you-in-2019/

12 Wellness Instagram Accounts to Motivate You In 2019

If you are one of those people who see a new year as the opportunity for a fresh start, you may have already spent some time thinking about habits you’d like to break or form as we start 2019. Though you can probably think of many healthy habits you would like to adopt in the new year, have you thought about how you can give your creativity a fresh cleanse with new and exciting sources of motivation and inspiration?

With 500 million daily users, it is no surprise that Instagram is a huge resource for finding inspiring content.

Check out these 12 amazing wellness advocates who will be sure to supply you with a healthy, fresh dose of motivation in 2019.

1. @livewellwithlo

Hawaii living Lauren Kissee takes to Instagram to promote wellness and healthy, mindful living. “Pursuing a life well-lived,” Lauren shares tidbits into her life in the form of yummy recipes, awesome eBook resources, and natural skincare tips, with lots of color sprinkled in!

2. @thefashionfitnessfoodie

There is no shortage of hilarious, fact-checking sass on Lucy Fountain’s account. Lucy is a wellness advocate whose career is centered on putting a stop to the scams and “quick fixes” by providing real truth and encouraging a balanced, forgiving, health conscious approach to wellness.

3. @saraclarkyoga

Sara Clark uses her passion to do more than just live a solo-focused healthy life. Instead, she uses her voice to inspire others to do the same through promoting yoga, mindfulness, and meditation. Sara spreads positivity, inspiration, and hope through her platform, and frequently teaches yoga in NYC.

4. @paleoglutenfreeeats

Kaylie of @paleoglutenfreeeats features the most mouth watering paleo and gluten free recipes, and she is sure to include chocolate as frequently as possible. Follow her for a solid dose of healthy sweet treat inspiration, because who doesn’t want to be encouraged to eat brownies for breakfast?!

5. @wellandfull

Just in case you follow a plant-based diet and have been eating more beans and rice than you can stand, check out Sarah’s inspiring creations over on @wellandfull. Sarah incorporates creativity into her dishes to create meals that are almost too pretty to eat!

6. @charlotttequeen

If you’re looking for some beautiful, bright meal inspiration, Charlotte is your girl. She keeps it real, and features everything from salads and veggies to burgers and pancakes, because #balance. A big fan of dispelling Instagram’s false image of “fit,” she is a fan of speaking it how it actually is through side-by-side comparison images.

7. @rocamoon

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DECEMBER FITMAS CHALLENGE!! 💥 It’s that time of year again, who’s ready to get their fitness dancing shoes on with us!? Haha happy December 1st everyone!! (Cannot believe it’s already here🙃)… ok soooo for all you who are keen & I hope that’s lots of you again 😜 I left it up to you guys to vote what we should do & it sounds like the 1000 burpees killed ya last year!? Haha so by popular vote “25 FOR 25” it is! . ✨ Basically the goal is to move that bod of urs & do something active for 25mins each day until Christmas Day! 🎉🎁 You can personalize it how you like… whether it’s a simple walk or run, dancing in the mirror at home, or a quick & intense HIIT workout- it’s up to you! If anything the goal is to just get moving and trying to push urself a little extra this season whatever it is!🏋🏽‍♀️🤸🏽‍♀️🧘🏽‍♀️🏄🏽‍♀️🚴🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️👍🏼 If you r wanting a lil more guidance I will be posting the days workout on my story for you the night before, which will be a combo of 25mins of activity or 25 reps of set exercises. . YOU IN!? Comment a Christmas tree 🎄 if you are & tag ur buddies, fambam, lovers, or whoever to get in on it with ya- it’s much easier & more fun that way to keep each other accountable🙌🏽 . Some of my fam in NZ have accepted the challenge again so I’m super stoked!! Oh and would love to hear any of ur fav go to exercises below & maybe I can incorporate them somewhere along the way. . ✨document & share!..share in the comments of my posts what u r up to, or share pics/vids/boomerangs, whatever on ur IG stories or feed & tag me @rocamoon + use hashtag #25FITMASDAYS so we can all see & be inspired!! That’s if u want to 😉 . ✨PRIZES! For a little extra motivation & fun there will be a prize each week. I’ll announce on stories & gift to people who are participating!! Maybe things like workout gear, energy bars, glasses, swimsuits- we shall see if anyone even joins in haha😝 Alriiiiiiighty let’s do this 💪🏽💪🏽 today will be mellow, starting with just a 25min quick paced walk while u mentally prepare & commit to a better version of urself for the next 25days.. .btw don’t think you r gonna get away with doing no fitmas burpees Just yet 😜🔥 #25FITMASDAYS #merryfitmas #tistheseason

A post shared by Mona-Jane (@rocamoon) on Dec 1, 2018 at 6:20am PST

In addition to posting beautiful imagery with views to envy, Mona-Jane of @rocamoon doesn’t fall short in the motivation category. A huge fitness (and ice cream!) lover, Mona-Jane encourages her followers to take advantage of the great outdoors through living an active lifestyle. She frequently posts fun workout challenges to inspire her followers to get up and get moving!

8. @thehealthmason

The Health Mason, also known as Allie, is a wellness advocate passionate about the topics of mental health awareness, all things balance, and keeping it honest. As an ED survivor, Allie is a believer in using food as medicine. Follow along on her journey for all things recipes, skincare, and lifestyle!

9. @saltsandandsmoothies

A fantastic source of knowledge on the power of plants and holistic living, Amelia Whelan provides her followers with incredible recipes and a gold mine of holistic living tips. She promotes wellness through conscious and intentional living, sharing loads inspirational and thought-provoking content along the way.

10. @spinach4breakfast

Sisters Maria & Alyssa took to their blog to document their health and wellness journey and provide a tool for anyone looking for a bit of inspiration. Focusing on all things health, wellness, and motherhood, these sisters know the importance of balancing intuitive eating with sweet indulgences.

11. @cultivatewithkruti

Kruti Shah of @cultivatewithkruti is a yogi, plant-based recipe developer and food stylist who uses her passion for health and wellness to share mouth watering creations with others. When she isn’t busy cooking up tasty dishes, and promoting health, wellness, and mindfulness, she is busy pursuing her Master’s Degree in Occupational Therapy.

12. @eatgoodfoodandmove

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I’ve been craving some fancy dairy-free nachos and this plate did NOT disappoint. The @CholulaHotSauce cashew sour cream took it to the next level 🙌🏼🙌🏼They were so good I might have made them twice already😬 This is one of those meals that will impress your friends and make you seem like a fancy master chef 💁🏻‍♀️but is actually super simple and can be whipped up in just under an hour. Although this recipe as written is vegan, swap out the beans and corn for ground turkey taco meat and you are good to go for a Paleo or Whole30 approved meal. [ad] MAKE THIS PLATE: CHOLULA CASHEW SOUR CREAM: (Adapted from @ohsheglows cashew sour cream) -3/4 cup water -1 1/2 cups cashews -2 Tablespoons lemon juice -2 tsp apple cider vinegar -pinch of salt -5-6 Tablespoons Cholula Hot Sauce (depending on how much flavor you want) DIRECTIONS: 1. Soak cashews in boiling water, for at least an hour. Blend all ingredients together in a high-speed blender until the consistency is smooth. 2. Sweet potato fries (I think they are easier to pick up than circular shapes): Preheat oven to 425, wash sweet potatoes, cut into wedges/fries, brush with avocado oil and use s&p. Cook for 40-60 minutes, stirring halfway through. 3. Top fries with: baby tomatoes, avocados, black beans, black olives, fresh corn, jalapenos, a squeeze of fresh lime, cilantro, and the Cholula sour cream

A post shared by Katie White (@eatgoodfoodandmove) on Jul 26, 2018 at 7:24pm PDT

“Good food can be both nourishing and delicious,” says Katie White of @eatgoodfoodandmove. An advocate of real food combined with movement (especially yoga), Katie doesn’t let Celiac disease keep her on the sidelines. She whips up creative dishes that are nourishing, gluten-free, AND absolutely delicious. Her sweet potato nachos sure do sound pretty good right about now.

Whether you are an experienced wellness professional or you are just beginning your wellness journey, it is important to fuel yourself with a sense of motivation. Instagram is an endless source of inspiring content, especially when it comes to health and wellness. Follow along with these awesome accounts to begin the new year fueled up on motivation and ready to tackle your goals.

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#current health news usa #health news united states #health news usa #Fitness Training

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foodtrails25-blog · 5 years ago

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Gluten-free cake made with Coconut flour topped with fresh cherries and Hazelnuts, made with Coconut Flour. Vegan and Gluten-free, without any synthetic sugar..

This has a moist and yumm Chocolate Cake with the goodness of Coconut flour, nutty Hazelnuts and fresh cherries on top. The recipe is with egg but you can also bake the eggless version of this cake.

Incase you are looking for a gluten-free, low carb cake recipe or something with healthy flour for your kids, you can bookmark the recipe.

My kids one of the favourite Chocolate cake with Hazelnuts and Cherries..

Delicious and ohh.. so chocolatey cake, for my chocolate loving kids..There vacations are going one and most of the time they are home except a few activity classes. I keep my stock of homemade goodies for them , so that they have something to munch on when they get hunger pangs in between meals or something to have with milk. Instead of getting the store bought stuff, they love having homebaked stuff. My elder one loves to gorge on cookies, cakes and stuff like that but fortunately she also now knows the importance of healthy and calculated eating . My eight yr old follows what the elder sis does. They do love to get goodies once in awhile from stores but always look forward to what I bake for them.

Years back I started baking with all-purpose flour. Now slowly and gradually I have stopped using all-purpose flour(APF) or maida.The shift was gradually towards Whole Wheat Flour + APF, then only Whole wheat flour and then gluten-free flour like Almond flour. It’s been a long time now that I am using it for baking cookies and cakes, check out this Orange Cake or Fudgy Almond Chocolate Cake with Almond Flour.

Baking with Coconut Flour..

I recently started baking with Coconut Nut flour and am happy that kids too like the nutty coconut taste that one gets in coconut flour based cookies and cakes. Coconut Flour is gluten-free and is very low in carbohydrates and rich in protein and fibers.

Since it is a gluten-free flour, it is not easy to work with it. Baking with Almond Flour is much easier than Coconut Flour. This flour is very dry and absorbs lot of liquid. The resultant bake can be quite crumbly and dry. The texture of the final bake is of quite different texture than the WWF or Almond Flour.

To get the good structure and texture in coconut flour bakes, many recipes use lot of eggs. Eggs hydrate the flour and give structure to the final bake.

Pair it up with other gluten-free flours like Almond Flour, Hazelnut flour or add 2 tbsp of tapioca flour or cornstarch to every 3/4 Cup of Coconut flour to enhance the taste and baking properties.

You can also bake egg-free coconut cakes and muffins, but the result is quite crumbly and will be on drier side. Any of the egg replacers like Flax Meal, Chia Seeds or buttermilk( prepared with any plant based milk and vinegar) are good.

Nutritional Value of Ingredients used in this gluten-free chocolate cake..

This gluten-free cake has Coconut Flour that is rich not only in proteins and fibre , low in carb but also exceptionally rich in manganese, an important mineral for bones.

Though Cocoa powder does not have any direct health benefits, but is is rich in polyphenols. To know about the health benefits of Cocoa click here..

Hazelnuts are a rich source of vitamins and minerals like vitamin E, manganese and copper. Additionally, they have a high content of omega-6 and omega-9 fatty acids. Also, these have high content of Omega Fatty Acids. To more about nutritional benefits of Hazelnuts click here..

Kids love cherries and I added finely chopped just to add on to the taste of cake. Cherries are rich in antioxidants, Vit. C and minerals. Know more here..

Let’s see how I made this gluten-free low carb Chocolate Cherry and Hazelnut cake..

Chocolate Cake with Hazelnuts and Cherries(with Coconut Flour)

Gluten-free cake made with Coconut flour topped with fresh cherries and Hazelnuts, made with Coconut Flour. Vegan and Gluten-free, without any synthetic sugar..

¾ Cup Coconut flour

2 tbsp Cocoa Powder

1/2 Cup Coconut Sugar (any natural sweetener)

2 Eggs

¼ Cup Olive Oil (or Coconut Oil)

¼ Cup Finely Chopped Hazelnuts

Finely Chopped Fresh Cherries

½ tsp Baking Powder

2 tbsp Cornstarch

Preheat oven to 325°F or 162°C.

Sieve together flour, baking powder, cornstarch, cocoa powder and salt.

In a mixing bowl, mix oil and sugar.

Add egg and extract and beat well.

Add flour mix and fold flour with egg mix.

Fold in half of chopped nuts.

Transfer the batter to 6" cake tin.

Top with roughly chopped cherries.

Bake cake in preheated oven at 325°F for 25 minutes.

You can use walnuts instead of Hazelnuts.

#gallery-0-4 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-4 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

It’s Monday again, linking my Chocolate Cake with Hazelnuts and Cherries to my facebook group Foodie Monday Bloghop where the theme this week is #202KuchMeethaHoJaye(Let’s have something sweet!!). The theme was suggested by Renu where all the participating bloggers have to prepare something with Chocolate as main flavour or ingredient.

Do check Renu’s wonderful blog who blogs at Cook With Renu where she has lots of healthy and delcious cakes, breads and other bakes. There are also, vegetarian dishes not only from Indian Cuisine but from all across the globe.

Make this gluten-free low carb cake for your loved ones. I am sure they will like it as much as my family likes it.

If you and your kids love chocolate, so check out these delcious Chocolate desserts recipes from the blog.. Classic Brownies, Fudgy Almond Chocolate Cake(Egg-free), Chocolate Pudding(Egg-free and Gelatin-free ).

Do visit my social media accounts.. FB, Pinterest and Instagram. Whenever you make this, do post on my FB page or tag me on Instagram(#foodtrails25). Pin the recipes for later reference.

If you like my work, then do hit the follow button and subscribe to the blog to get notifications on new posts and share the blog with your loved ones.

Thanks for stopping by and keep coming back!!

Chocolate Cherry and HAzelnut Cake (with Coconut Flour) Gluten-free cake made with Coconut flour topped with fresh cherries and Hazelnuts, made with Coconut Flour. Vegan and Gluten-free, without any synthetic sugar..

#Baking with Gluten-free flour #Coconut Flour #featured #keto cake

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santaprofit5-blog · 6 years ago

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Our Favorite Feature Stories of 2018

[Photographs: Clay Williams, Vicky Wasik, Jennifer Burns Bright, Adam Kuban, Max Falkowitz]

For most of our readers, the feature stories on Serious Eats aren't the biggest draw—some who know us strictly for our recipes probably don't even realize we publish anything else. But when we looked back at all the features we produced this year, we were struck by both their number and their variety, and it was gratifying (especially for the feature editors among us!) to watch as the whole staff pored over the list and everyone rushed to call dibs on their favorites.

Granted, a "feature" on Serious Eats can mean a lot of very different things: a guide to a particular ingredient, or category of ingredient, or cuisine; an exploration of an odd American regional food or the history behind an iconic international one; an interview from our Obsessed series; a personal essay; a reported investigation of a segment of the food industry.

What we hope these all have in common is that readers will get from them not just what they were expecting when they clicked on the title, but more—we want our personal essays to be personal, but also teach something; we want our guides and other service-oriented pieces to be informative, but also buoyed by a strong voice and sense of humor.

Whatever category they fall into, the features described below are the ones that most resonated with the Serious Eats staff in 2018. We were fascinated by, among other things, the winding and sometimes bizarre history of soy milk in the US, the care and labor that go into making a traditional Japanese breakfast, the baking ingredients we absolutely needed to add to our (apparently understocked) pantries, and a glimpse into the mind of a veteran brewmaster. After you've read this list, we hope you'll find yourself similarly hooked.

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

If you know me, you know that I consider BraveTart to be nothing less than a bible. It's the first baking cookbook I've ever made multiple recipes from, and the only baking cookbook I've ever given as a gift. Every anecdote, brownie, cake, and homemade Oreo provides insight into Stella's soul and genius. And the more I learn, the more I want to learn, which is why I love this post about the pantry items Stella considers essential for baking. Knowing the exact ingredients she uses has definitely given my baking an edge, and when I combine those ingredients with her can't-fail recipes, I know I can achieve the very best version of everything I make. In Stella we trust! —Ariel Kanter, director of commerce strategy and editorial

The Baker's Pantry: All the Staples You Need to Make Amazing Desserts »

[Photograph: Clay Williams]

In the early years of Serious Eats' existence, pizza was a large part of the site's bread and butter, except that instead of bread and butter, it was bread and tomato sauce and cheese. The editors and writers of old SE covered 'za so exhaustively for so many years that, at a certain point, it felt like there wasn't much left to say. After you've written nearly every conceivable recipe, explored every significant pizza joint nationwide (plus thousands of pretty insignificant ones) in more passionate depth than any other publication could ever hope to, and basically written the book on the subject, what else is there?

That's largely why there's been so much less pizza coverage on SE in recent years—the archives speak for themselves. But that's also why it thrilled me to see pizza come roaring back in this great two-part series about pizza in one of its meccas, New York City. Written by Ed, with major assists from pizza experts Adam Kuban and Scott Wiener, the first part (linked below) catches us up to 2018 after several years of Serious Silence on pizza, while the second is a perfectly curated list of some of the very best places to grab a slice citywide. —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

State of the Slice, Part 1 »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

This isn't exactly a typical feature story, but by the time I'd finished reading, I'd gained much more of an understanding of how to assemble a Japanese breakfast. Sho takes readers to his grandmother's breakfast table in Japan before breaking down the significance of the meal, one component at a time. His writing is funny and warm, and it makes you feel as if a close friend is standing by to assist when this breakfast turns out to be much more complicated than you'd anticipated. —Elazar Sontag, editorial assistant

How to Make a Japanese Breakfast »

[Photograph: Max Falkowitz]

Mezcal is hands down my favorite liquor—I just love the smoky layer it adds to any cocktail. Reading about how painstakingly difficult it is to produce and distill mezcal made me fall that much more in love with the spirit itself. Max takes us through the entire journey, from the agave plant to how mezcaleros capture the smokiness that I adore so much. This very thorough and admirable mezcal bible makes me want to hop on the next flight to Oaxaca. —Grace Chen, office manager and associate podcast producer

The Spirit of Mexico: A Guide to Mezcal »

[Photograph: Jennifer Burns Bright]

As much as I love oysters, my previous knowledge of them sadly didn't extend much beyond "they taste good and sometimes make pearls." Jennifer's article has changed that for me (or brought me out of my shell?). After reading the story of the Olympia oyster and the immense effort it takes to get them on your plate, I'm now deep-diving into the world of bivalves. Their history is fascinating, but I'm mostly grateful for their comeback, because it's now the oyster I look for on any raw-bar menu. —Joel Russo, video producer

This Small West Coast Oyster Is Making a Big Comeback »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

There is no argument that New York has one of the richest and most ethnically diverse food scenes in the world. This practical list makes global fare (hello, Cuban-Chinese!) accessible on a budget. I keep it bookmarked on my phone as a cheat sheet for casual nights out, when the answer to “Where do you want to eat?” is “I don’t know, but it’s gotta be good and cheap.” —Maggie Lee, UX designer

15 Under $15: Great Bites in NYC That Won't Break the Bank »

[Photograph: Chris Low]

The idea for Becky Selengut's entertaining and informative guide to the Pacific razor clam was originally hatched by Sho, who never met a mollusk he didn't like. But when I took editing responsibilities on it, it became my baby, and though it required a fair amount of coaxing into being—including coordinating a West Coast–based clamming/photography excursion, carried out at twilight, and waiting months on a shipment of live Pacific razor clams to our New York office so Daniel could test out Becky's shucking directions—it felt like a huge triumph when it was finally finished and published.

Okay, maybe my toil isn't enough of a reason for you to read this article, so here are a few real ones: To me, it represents a combination of practical guidance and instruction, "I didn't know that!" fun facts, and personal investment by the author that's ideal in a feature story. Reading it, you understand not only that Becky is an expert at gathering and cooking with these clams, but also that she loves this subject matter. Even if you'll never eat a Pacific razor in your life, it's a joy to read, especially when paired with Chris Low's lovely, moody photos of that evening clamming expedition in the PNW. —Miranda Kaplan, senior editor

Fat, Ugly, and Delicious: A Guide to the Pacific Razor Clam »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

In a totally different vein from the Pacific razor clam guide, Nadia Berenstein's story on soy milk's journey from a symbol of technological progress, to a health food for religious zealots and hippie environmentalists, to international success and semi-acceptance by the American mainstream, is a great, quirky ride. It's hard not to love a serious food history in which farting emerges as a major theme. —Miranda Kaplan, senior editor

A Brief History of Soy Milk, the Future Food of Yesterday »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

When Tabitha Blankenbiller pitched us a story about cooking from the American Girl doll cookbooks, I was immediately sold. One of my male counterparts, however, who grew up so far removed from the exorbitant price and captivating realism of the American Girl doll "experience" that he wasn't even sure what American Girl dolls were, was skeptical, to say the least.

I think it speaks volumes that we both wound up enthusiastic about the finished piece, which captures the peculiar zeitgeist of the American Girl doll generation with remarkable accuracy and a cutting humor. It's an irreverent bit of writing that will nonetheless resonate with anyone who has something to feel nostalgic and complicated about. I'll admit that the opportunity to spend a full day of my job building a teeny-tiny kitchen and grooming American Girl dolls for our epic photo shoot was something of a bonus. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

The Great American Girl Doll Cook-Off »

[Photograph: Adam Kuban]

I really enjoyed Sho's Obsessed interview with Slice founder Adam Kuban. As a pizza-loving Serious Eater, I'm certainly the target audience for this interview, but beyond that, I find Adam's story admirable: He's turned his obsession into businesses, twice (and he's still working at it). —Paul Cline, VP of product

Obsessed: Slicemeister Adam Kuban Deep-Dishes on His Pizza Dreams »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

I am so happy that amaro has gone mainstream. It used to be really hard to find here in the States, but not anymore. This piece is a great introduction to the perfect digestif, and gives a good rundown of the big-name amari on the market. —Sasha Marx, senior culinary editor

Amari 101: Your Guide to Italy’s Essential Bittersweet Liqueurs »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

Sherry is one of those things folks are always trying to pair with dessert, but despite my background as a pastry chef, I don't know my way around sherry well enough to offer up any meaningful suggestions. Getting to know the various styles and sweetness levels was tremendously helpful in bettering my understanding of how to pair sherries with dessert in a way that will offer the best complement or contrast, rather than hitting all the sugar-sweet notes. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

Sherry 101: An Introduction to the Hippest Old-Person Drink Around »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

My path to the discovery of good beer was similar to Garrett Oliver's, in that I drank swill all through college before a revelatory experience opened my eyes shortly thereafter. I became acquainted with the wider world of interesting beer while working as a server at Teresa's Next Door in Wayne, Pennsylvania (a 2018 James Beard Award semifinalist for Outstanding Bar Program). The restaurant had an exhaustive beer list, and I was forced (*ahem*) to taste every beer that rotated through the taps, discovering the complexities and nuance that defined the brewing world beyond Budweiser. Everyone at the restaurant, including me, owned a copy of Oliver's canonical The Brewmaster's Table to learn about styles of beer and how they pair with food.

So I was very excited when Sho's Obsessed interview with this great brewmaster popped up, and the read did not disappoint. The dude is smart as hell and really knows his craft. He speaks so well about the past, present, and future of brewing and his own personal experience, but you can tell he's also brimming with insightful commentary on much more. Oliver's keen mind makes for a fascinating profile—my favorite Obsessed interview of the year. Now, off to find the cut material... —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

Obsessed: Garrett Oliver on Brewing Better Beer »

[Photograph: Vicky Wasik]

A pretty well-known fact about me around the Serious Eats office is that I love pasta. It's even my spirit food in my masthead photo. Every single Italian recipe that Daniel has made has been photographed (and, most likely, devoured) by yours truly. This comprehensive list not only reminds me of all the tasty bowls of pasta I've eaten, but actually gives me the confidence that I can cook a lot of them on my own! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

The Essential Steps to Mastering Italian Cuisine »

[Illustration: Misha Zadeh]

I admire this piece by Porochista Khakpour immensely, and I feel very lucky for having had the opportunity to work with her. Khakpour is an accomplished novelist and memoirist—her most recent book, Sick, was published this year—and I could read her writing on any subject. While her Nowruz piece is nominally concerned with how meaningful the Persian New Year is for her, what I find so appealing about it is that it is ultimately about how being Iranian is an essential part of her American identity, which I believe is a particularly valuable bit of insight in light of the conversations taking place across the country about immigration. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

A Time of Plenty: Celebrating Nowruz in America »

[Illustration: Tram Nguyen]

I really love the way Mithila Phadke writes, not just about the food in this piece but in general. I think this piece illustrates the range of her voice, and how it can be used to talk about both weighty and light things. What I most like about this piece, though, is that while much of the focus is on her grandmother's cooking and, of course, on her loss, it also manages to deftly underscore how little is understood of the vast and varied cuisine of the Indian subcontinent, even (and especially!) by those who grew up there. I grew up in New Delhi, and I found it incredibly edifying; I hope you all do, too. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

Ajji's Cooking: Preserving an Unsung Cuisine »

[Video: Serious Eats Video]

D. Gritzer's guide to mortars and pestles has everything I like about our service-oriented features. First of all, it goes deep—way deep. Who knew how many kinds of mortars and pestles there were, from every corner of the world: Japanese, Mexican, Thai, and Mediterranean ones, just for starters? Plus, there's plenty of history in the post, all of it engagingly presented to the reader. Finally, Daniel explains in one word what a mortar and pestle does better than more modern inventions: it crushes. Just like Daniel's story does. —Ed Levine, founder

How to Pick the Best Mortar and Pestle »

[Photograph: Jai Williams]

Interest in Lao cuisine appears to be quietly but steadily building across the United States. If, like me, you're naturally curious about it, or if you suddenly find yourself seated before a Lao menu, whip out this fun primer so you can discern muu haeng from siin haeng and learn what goes best with jaew bong. —John Mattia, video editor

A Guide to the Essential Dishes of Laos »

[Illustration: Annelise Capossela]

As a reformed picky eater, I identified so strongly with Irina's story. There's a lot of flexing in food media about the babies of chefs and writers who will eat anything put in front of them because they're the kids of good eaters. But I find the image of Irina's son eating two mac and cheese sandwiches a lot more compelling than those overdone flexes: It speaks to discernment, judgment, and developing your tastes on your own time. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

The Kid Is All Right: In Defense of Picky Eating »

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Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/roundups/favorite-features-2018

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