#it's a rice plate place with a menu that changes every day

[luncheon-aspic]

Just as I suspected, my food delivery came like ten minutes after I fell asleep, but seeing the sheer quantity of it for like $10 made it worth it.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Night Off

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: PowerBttmYunjin x SubTop!Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Requested: Ight I couldn’t tell if u write this type of thing or not but can you please do a huh yunjin x male reader smut where they’ve been dating for a while and he help her with her practice then afterwards they get something to eat then go home and have sex thank you

More: Masterlist

A/n: I apologize for the delay in posting this. I've been very busy with school and extracurricular activities, which is why this remained unfinished in my drafts.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

The cool breeze of the early autumn evening whispered through the leaves, playing a soft melody as it danced around the figure standing alone on the rooftop. Yunjin, dressed in a simple black hoodie and sweatpants, her hair tied back in a low ponytail, took a deep breath, savoring the crisp air that filled her lungs. She looked out over the sprawling cityscape, the lights twinkling like stars scattered across the dark fabric of the night. The quiet was a stark contrast to the deafening cheers she was used to hearing from the stage below, but she cherished these moments of solitude. They allowed her to reconnect with the world outside the glitz and glamour of K-pop stardom.

Her thoughts drifted to her partner, M/n, who had been nothing but supportive in her journey. They had been dating for several months now, and their relationship had grown stronger with each passing day. He knew her better than anyone, understanding the pressures she faced and the sacrifices she made for her career. And tonight, as he had many times before, he offered to help her with her vocal practice. His gentle guidance and encouraging words had always brought out the best in her, pushing her to reach new heights with every note she sang.

As she took a sip of her tea, the warm liquid seemed to melt away the stress of the day. Her thoughts drifted back to M/n and the way he had looked at her during their practice session. His eyes had been filled with admiration and a hint of something more, something that made her heart flutter. She knew he had a busy schedule of his own, but he always made time for her when she needed it most. It was a rare gift in their demanding world, one that she treasured deeply.

They had decided to grab a bite to eat at their favorite local restaurant, a cozy little place that served the best ddeokbokki in town. The smell of spicy rice cakes sizzling in the sauce filled the air, making their mouths water as they walked in. The owner, an older woman with a perpetual smile, waved them over to their usual table in the corner. They slid into the plush booth, the familiar comfort of the place wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

M/n ordered their usual - a spicy seafood ddeokbokki for two - while Yunjin picked at the menu, her appetite not quite as voracious as his. She finally settled on a bulgogi rice bowl, her eyes meeting his as she handed the menu back to the waitress. He smirked, knowing she'd end up eating most of his food anyway. As they waited, they chatted about their day, sharing stories and laughter that seemed to resonate through the intimate space.

"Here we go, the best ddeokbokki in Seoul," M/n exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as the steaming plate of rice cakes was set before them. The tangy aroma of the spicy sauce mixed with the sweetness of the dough brought a smile to Yunjin's lips. They dug in, the chewy texture and explosion of flavors a delightful contrast to the quiet evening they'd had so far.

As they ate, their conversation grew more personal, sharing their fears and hopes for the future. Yunjin spoke candidly about the pressure of maintaining her image and the constant need to improve. M/n listened intently, his hand reaching over to gently squeeze hers. "You're already incredible, Yunjin," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You don't need to change for anyone."

The comfort in his words was like a balm to her soul. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. He leaned in, his thumb brushing a stray tear from her cheek, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. The warmth of his touch spread through her body, igniting a fire she hadn't realized had been smoldering all evening.

Their meal continued with a newfound intimacy, their laughter more genuine and their smiles brighter. They talked about their future, their dreams, and the secret moments they shared when the cameras weren't rolling. It was easy to forget the world outside their bubble, especially when their food arrived, a symphony of flavors that sang in harmony with their shared love for each other. They ate with gusto, stealing glances and smiles in between bites, their bond growing stronger with every shared taste.

After they finished their meal, they walked hand in hand through the quiet streets, the cool air a gentle caress on their skin. They didn't speak much, content in the comfortable silence that had grown between them. The city was a blur of lights and sounds, but all that mattered was the steady beat of their hearts and the warmth of their entwined fingers.

When they reached M/n's apartment, the tension between them grew palpable. They stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them like a lock sealing in their secret world. He led her to the living room, where the soft glow of a single lamp cast a warm, inviting light. She sat down on the couch, watching as he moved to the stereo, selecting a playlist of their favorite songs. The first notes of a slow, sensual ballad filled the air, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

M/n turned to face her, his eyes dark with desire. "Let's take this to the next level," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise that sent a thrill through her. She nodded, her pulse quickening as he approached her, his steps deliberate and predatory. He took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet, and their bodies collided with a fierceness that stole her breath. His lips claimed hers, the kiss a declaration of war against the boundaries that had held them back.

Yunjin melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and plane with a reverence that made her feel worshiped. She gasped as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, the sting of pain quickly replaced by the sweetness of his tongue. They broke apart, panting, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. He took a step back, his gaze raking over her before he took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the moon's silver beam that sneaked through the curtains. He guided her to the bed, and she sat, her legs swinging open and inviting. He didn't need a second invitation. M/n knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly untied her shoes and peeled off her socks. The simple act was loaded with erotic tension, each touch a promise of what was to come. He slid her sweatpants down her legs, revealing the black lace panties that clung to her hips like a second skin.

Yunjin felt a thrill run through her as he traced a finger along the waistband. She leaned back, her heart racing as he hooked his fingers under the lace and slid them down, exposing her completely to his hungry gaze. He took his time, savoring the sight of her. He kissed the inside of her thighs, his breath hot against her skin. His mouth found its way to the apex of her legs, and she gasped as his tongue flicked over her clit. She was already wet and ready for him, the anticipation making her shiver with need.

M/n's hands roamed up her body, cupping her breasts through her hoodie. He teased her nipples, rolling them gently between his thumbs and forefingers until they were hard and sensitive. He pulled the hoodie over her head, tossing it aside to reveal the matching black lace bra that barely contained her. He took his time unclasping it, the slow reveal making her squirm with impatience. When her breasts spilled out, he took one in his mouth, sucking and nipping until she was arching her back and moaning his name.

Their bodies were a tapestry of desire, a dance of hands and mouths that knew every inch of each other by heart. He kissed her collarbone, tracing a path down to her navel, his tongue dipping inside to tickle the sensitive spot that made her squirm. Yunjin's fingers found his hair, pulling him closer as he made his way back up, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. When he reached her mouth again, she tasted herself on him, a heady combination that made her want more.

M/n stood, his own passion clear through the bulge in his pants. He took a moment to shed his clothes, revealing a body that was toned and lean from years of dance and exercise. He stepped out of his jeans, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard. Yunjin licked her lips, eager to feel him inside her. He took his time, teasing her with feather-light touches as he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs.

With a wicked smile, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her eyes never leaving his. She took his length in her hand, stroking it gently before guiding it to her entrance. The head nudged against her, and she lowered herself, inch by inch, until he was buried deep within her. She threw her head back, her hair a curtain around them, as she moaned with pleasure. The sensation of being filled by him was exquisite, a feeling she never tired of.

"O-oh, oh! god, Yunjin," M/n gasped, his eyes rolling back as she began to ride him with a confidence that made his heart race. Her movements were fluid, each stroke a masterful blend of passion and power. Her hips rocked back and forth, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. He could feel her muscles tightening around him, a vice grip that only made him harder.

"You like that baby?" Yunjin murmured, a wicked glint in her eye as she watched M/n's reaction to her movements. He could only nod, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched as she took control of the rhythm. Her hips moved in a sinuous dance, her inner muscles squeezing and releasing around his length, eliciting gasps and moans from his parted lips.

"I need you to talk to me, M/n," she purred, her voice a sweet siren's call that sent shivers down his spine. "D-do you like that baby? Tell me how it feels," she demanded, her hips rolling in a mesmerizing rhythm that had him on the edge.

He could only manage to whine, "Y-Yunjin, you're so tight, so warm." His voice was a desperate plea, a testament to the exquisite pleasure she wrung from his body. Her breasts bounced with every movement, the sight making his cock throb even more. Her eyes never left his, a silent challenge that he was utterly incapable of resisting.

With each roll of her hips, M/n felt himself losing control. Her power over him was absolute, and he reveled in the sweet surrender. He felt her getting wetter, her walls clutching him tighter, urging him closer to the precipice of climax. "Fuck, M-mommy," he murmured, his hands gripping her hips, trying to steady himself against the onslaught of sensation.

Yunjin leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she picked up the pace. The friction was delicious, their skin slick with sweat as they moved in perfect harmony. She could feel his cock pulse inside her, a silent declaration of his impending release. She leaned down, her breath hot against his ear. "Cum for Mommy," she whispered, her voice a seductive command that sent him over the edge.

M/n's body tensed, his moans growing louder as he obeyed her command. His hips bucked up to meet her, his release flooding her with warmth. The feeling sent her own orgasm crashing over her, her walls clenching around him as she rode out the waves of pleasure. She collapsed onto his chest, her breathing ragged as she reveled in the aftermath of their shared climax.

For a moment, they lay there, their bodies entwined, their hearts beating in a frantic symphony. Then, with a sigh, she shifted, rolling off him and onto her side, taking him with her. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his cock still half-hard and nestled against her thigh. She stroked his hair, her fingers tracing patterns on his scalp that made him purr with contentment.

[gogeorgettes]

Fresh Options at Your Local Lunch Café

For those looking for the ideal lunch café, it's time to stop in at Georgette's Grounds & Gifts. At our café, we only use the freshest ingredients to serve our community.

Every week, our team plans new and exciting meals with seasonal ingredients. Our lunch caf￩ offers on-the-go meals as well as creative options on large plates that can be shared between patrons.

Why Choose Georgette's and Sunshine Communities?

At Georgette's, we're part of Sunshine Communities and support people with developmental disabilities. Our lunch café provides opportunities for personal growth and the option to work alongside people from all backgrounds. You can shop with us for breakfast, lunch or a quick snack or coffee.

Get to Know Our Lunch Cafe Menu

Our lunch café has something for everyone. For breakfast, visitors can try some of our great breakfast sandwiches, such as the Sunrise Muffin, our Quiché, avocado toast or an egg and avocado panini (among other excellent choices).

We sell coffee from morning until close, too. We're excited to offer single-serve cups of our seasonal, buckeye, French roast, Georgette's, Georgette's decaf and Jamaican me crazy coffees. We also sell some of our coffees by the bag. Opt for the Anniversary blend or one of several other options to keep our coffee on hand when you're on the go.

If you have time to sit with us and have lunch in our café, you're going to love your special drink options. Pick up a specialty cold brew, smoothies, frappés or cappuccinos. We also serve other favorites, such as:

Hot cocoa

Mexican coffee

Café mocha

Pour-over brews

Blended iced coffee

Italian soda

Of course, no meal is complete without one of our specialty dishes. Some current items on our menu include:

Mac and cheese

Italian paninis

Pick-two combos

BLTs

Monterey spinach melts

Greek feta chicken wraps

Roast beef sandwiches

Ham sandwiches

Ham, egg or tuna salad

Of course, this list isn't all-inclusive, and the menu is always changing with the seasons.

For those looking for lighter fare, we do offer soups and salads in our lunch caf￩ as well. You can try our chipotle chicken club salad or strawberry spinach seasonal salad. We have an excellent pick-two option for people who want soup and a sandwich/salad as well. Make sure to ask us about our soups of the day when you come in to see us.

No meal will be complete without one of our sweet treats. Remember that we have carrot cake (and it's the winner of the 2013 Toledo City Paper Dessert Challenge). We also have Rice Krispy treats, doughnuts, cookies and so much more.

Please take the time to review our menu, which we have uploaded online. If you're in a hurry, you can place your order in advance. We'll have it waiting for you when you arrive. Just give us a call at 419-891-8888.

We are excited to be your favorite local lunch cafe. Whether you want to host a special event or stop in for a quick brunch, we're here and waiting to serve you.

Source URL:- https://sites.google.com/view/georgettesse/home

[mattohonbung]

mama chang

🇨🇳 chinese (hunan, sichuan, hubei)

📍 fairfax city, virginia

📅 July 2023; dinner-ish. 2nd time

🙂 overall: i'm so impressed with the variety of unique dishes on this restaurant's menu; I'm always gonna get a diff experience each time. generally tho, they deliver on mala but not so much on hot-spiciness, and i feel like their appetisers / small plates are less impressive than their larger meals. I wanna try everything on the menu before going back to the dishes that I liked.

more food pix + detailed review under the cut!

🍲 yangzhou meatball stew - ok so we were expecting a bowl of Stew with Multiple Meatballs, and out comes 2 huge meatballs and like no stew. what? it didn't have much going on in the taste department either. bok choy was also just steamed so not anything exciting there either.

this would've been vastly improved with better seasoning of the ground meat, or at least more SAUCE. I won't be getting it again

🍜 suanla rice noodle - neither the noodles nor the bok(?) choy were overcooked. the broth was fine but I wouldn't say it was particularly tasty; we added the soup from the beef stone pot to get more flavor into it lol

this was boring; I wouldn't get it again

🍗 ganghood fried chicken - each piece was crispy and the batter was tasty (good amount of salt) and thin. a standard, enjoyable eat! however the pieces of pepper in the dish just weren't spicy. that's ok tho

I'd order it again. but they also have other kinds of fried chicken dishes that also look interesting, so I'd try those first

🍲 hot + numbing beef stone pot - man this portion was fuckin GENEROUS it was honest 2 god bottomless. the beef and noodles never ended o my god. the beef pieces were large and tender and took to the flavor of the soup nicely, and the noodles were so slippery lol. I to my surprise, I found this stew to be NUMBING AF (we had to take breaks to eat this) but not that spicy? the sensation was so weird. like it made my mouth feel cold and the spiciness kinda disappeared.

it feels like tasting multiple circles of hell in 1 dish. I'd get it again

🍆🧄 eggplant w/ spicy garlic sauce - the biggest mystery of this meal was how the eggplant stayed hot FOR SO LONG. each piece had a wonderful texture- firm but gave way to the teeth; the flesh wasn't mushy and absorbed the sauce nicely. man that sauce was spicy lol it hurt and I kept coming back for more

perfection I'll be ordering this again

🦀🐖🥟 crab + pork soup dumplings - standard! skin was thin enough, and the soup tasted nice and complex. I thought the the meat inside was pretty plain; it tasted more of pork than crab.

I wouldn't mind getting it again, but only after I try every other dish that they have. they have TONS

-----

💲 price: I think the final amount was like $35/person? this place is the 1st floor of an office building and is decorated very nicely so I expected that. as a party of 5, we left VERY FULL, and our only leftovers was the soup of the hot + numbing beef stone pot and the mala eased up on us the next day lol

🗒️ other notes: none of these dishes come with rice; you have to request it (I don't think it costed anything tho). we also asked for their chili oil and it was fragrant but wasn't that spicy. oh well lmao

also we had this meal at a strange time (4pm) and the restaurant was like a little over half-full?? folks know what's up lol

[lagycart]

tokyo tohoku trip - day 8.

a weekend in tokyo, it’s certainly been a while. my friend and i went to nearby cafe for breakfast, cafe de crie, which serves japanese style western breakfast. i ordered the toast with broccoli soup with iced coffee. The toast is fluff and light, it goes well with the scrambled egg and ham. Broccoli soup is too watery though.

After a simple breakfast, i split up with my friend as she has to go for work, which i will join her in the evening for dinner, while i head to ginza to visit the art aquarium museum アートアクアリウム美術館. i bought the ticket online in advance and there’s so no queue and was not too crowded, i’m so glad. the museum is located inside mitsukoshi building and the entrance is slightly confusing when i arrived, however, the staff is helpful to point out how to reach there.

the art aquarium museum has lots of aquarium with various kind of goldfishes in various shapes of aquarium to present the fishes as art piece. the whole museum is dark as colorful lights are used as part of the presentation. I do like the atmosphere very much and it is actually very calming to just watch the goldfishes swim around. each aquarium has so many angles that you can enjoy the fishes, so you will definitely end up with tons of photos, as everything is very beautiful. i like the big aquariums a lot as it looks amazing and is ever changing. there’s also christmas tree in one section which is beautiful with different colors. the main art piece is a 360 installation which combines flowers and many small aquariums, which is super interesting and colorful. as i am an aquarium lover, it was definitely worth the visit, and you can stay here as long as you wish to. the souvenir store has lots of options but i find all the items quite expensive.

after having fun at the aquarium, i decided to head to lunch earlier as i feel that it is gonna be super crowded. 土鍋炊きご飯 おこめとおかず is a restaurant recommended by my friend, which serves japanese set meals and their main dish menu changes every day. i only waited for few minutes before getting a seat, but it was indeed packed. i ordered their lunch for the day, which has sashimi, saba shioyaki, fish head stew, miso soup and white rice. Fish are indeed very fresh and enjoyable, both raw and cooked and the stew is very flavorful that goes well with white rice. The meal is very enjoyable, miso soup is actually very nice with lots of tofu puff and some vegetables.

after lunch, i went to akihabara to help my friend with his trading cards. i spent a couple of hours here buying and selling trading cards at two different store. the area of akihabara is quite packed with people though. i definitely did a lot of walking by now and my legs felt extremely tired.

then, i head back to ginza for my own shopping, the main street of ginza is super crowded by now, there’s people everywhere, both for shopping and for photos as the main street is closed off from traffic during the weekends. all the branded good store has long queues because there’s just so many people wanting to go shopping. for me, i wanted to check out some cool stationery at G.Itoya, but the place is also crowded. as i go up each floor to check out the various sections, it was very difficult to navigate as the store is very narrow and there’s people everywhere. i decided to take a break at the cafe at the top floor - cafe stylo, which also had a very long waiting time.

i stayed in the cafe for quite a long time, watching the sunset from their window while resting my legs and enjoying my coffee and sweet potato fries. by evening, before going to meet my friend at the art gallery that she is at, i bought very nice christmas card from the first floor. it was still crowded but at least it was possible to move around.

my friend brought her friend and i to a korean bbq place, which has korean owners but the menu is tailored for japanese. we ordered few plates if various meat, and the kimchi is so good here. we also enjoyed the cold noodles at the end of the meal. the staff here is very friendly and the meat is so so good with perfect cuts. we were completely stuffed with so much good meat.

we went back to the art gallery to continue our chit chat for a while, it was a nice catch up as my last visit was 3 years ago, and the current exhibition they had on was very interesting too. i definitely had a good time with my friends that night, and after that, we took a bus back home.

exploring tokyo with such a busy crowd on a weekend is actually quite tiring. to be continued...

[tianarpowell]

Tiana thought Olivia’s diet sounded pretty good, actually. Often the simplest food was the food you really wanted to eat. “When I’m cooking at Third Street,” said Tiana, “I’m preparing the smaller dishes for the plates. So I’m making mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, that kind of thing. One of our most popular sides is our fried rice, and I’m actually a pro at that now. But the other chefs are doing seafood, kebabs, street tacos. They’re all experts by now.” Telling Olivia about Third Street made Tiana wish she could justify eating there herself. The food could be right up her alley, depending on the menu item.

“My family’s from New Orleans! I still remember the way it felt living there. Like every day could be different.” Redwood Hollow made her feel like every day was important—two different vibes, for sure. “I can’t believe you’re from Scotland! Girl, that’s cool! I would love to hear your stories about Scotland and New Zealand.”

Olivia seemed to change when Tiana mentioned her father. Tiana knew how that was, hearing about someone else’s losses. “You’re so right, Olivia. Pain is a funny thing like that. It surprises you, then it makes its own place in your life.” She appreciated that Olivia had said something about her dad’s passing; some people didn’t try.

Now Tiana wished she had paper and a pencil herself, so she could write down “Miss Marple.” “Oh, that’s just perfect! Cozy books are the best books.” And Agatha Christie, too… Tiana had lot to work with now. “You’re so nice, helping me out like this.” Tiana wanted to ask Olivia about her friends and family, but she found herself asking about her life as a student instead: “So what’s it like, reading and studying for school? Do you prefer the book learning to the other stuff they have you do?”

.

"That's so cool! What kind of stuff do you cook there?" Olivia asked. "I don't have a super refined palate... I mostly eat sandwiches, soup, meat with potatoes and salad, that kind of simple stuff. But I love trying new things!" She was a woman of simple tastes, truly. But having a cook for a friend may be a good reason to start expanding her culinary horizons.

"You've been here for a while! Where did you live before moving here?" Olivia was always intrigued by the life stories of people who weren't Redwood locals, such as herself. "I'm from Scotland, personally, but I've lived in New Zealand for a while, too. And then back in Scotland, and then we moved here, to Redwood Hollow," she explained with a quick twirl of her wrist.

The mention of Tiana's father's passing surprised Olivia a little. She gritted her teeth briefly, nervous as to how to broach the subject, if at all. As much as she wished to work on Criminology, she still felt she was rather unequipped to talk about such matters. "Oh... I'm sorry about your dad," she said quietly, as her smile slipped away. "I sort of know what that's like. It's never something you can quite be prepared for. And the sadness, it just lingers on, and... Well, you do learn to make some sort of peace with it, in the end." At least she believed she did, Olivia thought, even if the mystery of her mother's disappearance still gnawed at her.

"Well, Holmes is king in my book, but I'd really recommend starting with the Miss Marple stories. They're just perfect for cozying up next to a sunny window or besides a fireplace," Olivia smiled, happy to change the subject. "And working up from it, Death on the Nile is a classic, too. Anything by Agatha Christie is just great for beginners, really."

[riboism]

frontier psychiatrist- [discontinued]

pairing: yunho x f!reader genre: angst, thriller, suggestive? still not sure yet

warnings: mentions of mental illness, reader is a psychiatrist and yunho used to be her patient, abduction, stockholm syndrome if you squint, themes of violence

wc: 0.9k

disclaimer: the actions portrayed in this story are NOT reflective of those who suffer from BPD, depression, or anxiety as a whole. please do not generalize people suffering from these illnesses based on what you read in this story. this is all purely fictional.

a/n: I’m still not sure how many parts I will be adding to this series, or if I’ll even continue it. this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now so I’ve decided to post it. feedback is much appreciated! I don’t really know what I’m doing with this.

series m. list

“that boy needs therapy”- the avalanches

Yunho placed your dinner plate in front of you. White rice, grilled asparagus, and what looked like a grilled chicken breast, were all carefully placed onto the plate. 

“Tried out a new recipe for the marinade,” he said as he filled your glass with wine, “thought maybe you were tired of the lemon basil so I thought I’d change it up tonight. I hope you like it.” 

Yunho shuffled around you, carefully adjusting the small floral arrangement at the center of the table before taking a match and lighting the tall candlesticks that stood next to it. The soft jazz ballad filled the dining room, a nod to when you told him how much you enjoyed jazz music during his therapy sessions. He always put a lot of effort into making these dinners special for you; he wanted you to know that you were well cared for and that everything you could possibly need was right in front of you. 

He finally sat down and placed a napkin on his lap. “Please,” he said, motioning you to start eating. You picked up your utensils, still getting used to the feel of the cool metal against your fingertips. Usually, your hands were restrained in shackles and Yunho would have to cut your meat for you and feed you himself. You remembered spitting out every morsel of food, making him huff in frustration before he’d storm out, leaving you all alone in the dark and cold corner of his basement. 

After showing some changes in your behavior, Yunho allowed you to join him for dinner upstairs. The dining room was small but comfortable. The warm glow from the candles and the yellow lightbulbs from the wall sconces gave you a false sense of security. 

You chewed on the chicken breast, savoring the fresh taste of rosemary along with the sweetness of maple. You had to admit, he was a fabulous cook.

 “It’s delicious Yunho. Thank you.”

Yunho blushed at your compliment, pleased that you enjoyed his hard work. He made sure to be extra attentive to you, noting what you liked and disliked so that he could adjust his menu accordingly. 

Suddenly, you saw a flutter of white in the corner of your eye. Your eyes darted to the window, alarmed to see snowflakes falling. Yunho followed your eyes, chuckling when he saw the flurries collect onto the windowsill. “Look at that, the first snow of the season.”

You frowned a little. It was already winter and you had no clue. You couldn’t remember when you stopped keeping track of time. All you remembered was thinking that it was useless and that there was really no point in knowing if it was a Saturday or a Sunday. The days just blended into each other and Yunho had become your clock. You knew it was morning when he’d come down with your eggs and coffee. And night time when he’d wish you goodnight from behind the basement door.  

“Dr. Y/L/N? Are you alright?” 

Your head snapped back at Yunho. “Oh, yes, I’m fine, sorry…It’s just been a while since I’ve seen snow.” You raked your fork over the rice, playing with your food as you thought about your favorite snow days. How badly you missed going outside and feeling the cold air against your cheeks. You hated shoveling out your car after a bad storm, but now you thought there was nothing you’d rather be doing than plowing snow off your driveway. 

Yunho shot you a worried look. You reached over and placed your hand over his, giving it a small squeeze. “Really, I'm okay.” He wasn’t sure if he believed you but your warm smile melted his heart and he soon forgot about the whole thing. 

After dinner, Yunho walked you back to the basement. You hopped off the last step, looking down at the sad, dusty old mattress before you. Yunho had tried his best to make your space as homey as possible, but nothing could make the eerie environment any more comfortable than a prison cell. You turned around, looking up the stairs at where your captor stood. 

“Yunho?” 

“Yes, Doc?”

“Can I…” 

Come on, you thought to yourself, you’ve been holding back for weeks, just do it already!

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to continue on. “Do you think I can sleep in your room tonight?”

You tried hard not to shiver at the thought of Yunho’s bedroom. It was the one room you never wanted to unlock, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Yunho’s eyes widened at your request.

“M-my room? You want to sleep in my room?”

“Yes.”

He looked as nervous as a teenage boy on his first date. You watched him fiddle with his fingers while he weighed the pros and cons. 

“I don’t know Doc…”

“Please,” you moved up a step, careful not to get too close, “It’s just…It gets so lonely down here and sometimes I can’t sleep. And I like it upstairs, I like being with you. I feel safer when you're nearby.” 

Yunho’s heart fluttered. He took a deep breath as he mulled over your sudden request. Of course, he trusted you more now, but he still had his doubts. He worried if escape was still on your mind. The first few months were tough for him and you, but then there was a shift in your behavior. You were more caring, thankful, and accepting towards him. He figured you finally understood that this was for the best. He couldn’t have been happier. 

After a short while, Yunho finally gave in and nodded his head in agreement. “Okay. You can sleep in my room tonight.”

taglist: @hyuckilstan​ @ateezsatinysworld

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                                                                                       chapter 2 →

[jodiie-leighanne]

Warnings. This one will not be everyone's cup of tea; it involves very detailed smut. Both between M/F and M/M if you're not into that dont read it. You have been warned.

"Good Evening Mr. Malfoy, Your usual I presume?" Smile gracing her lips as she twirled a pencil in between two fingers on her right hand, the left held a blue ringed notebook. 

Remaining leant back in the chair, head cocked to the side as I  drank her in. Absorbing everything she has to offer in that skin tight skirt. 

My god.

"Mr Malfoy?" Sights switching from calves back to her angelic face freckles scattered and wisps of brown mould her features. Brows creased at my silence. 

Masking it with a chuckle, moving out of my longued position, elbows leant on the table in poor manners. "Sorry Elisa. Yes, just the usual. Unless you have something .." Taking a sharp inhale, licking my lips at the wild thoughts. "Something else to bring to the table, that would please the palate?" 

Raising a brow as Elisa blushed hinting she got the innuendo. If she did, her professionalism didn't falter once as she straightened up her posture. 

"Actually, Chef is trying Mediterranean style chicken thighs, glazed and tender, with a side of seasoned rice" Pencil hoovered over the paper patiently waiting for my decision to be made. 

"Sounds divine. I'll have that thank you, and another scotch" Nodding she scuttles away, watching her leave is my favourite pastime. Every Friday eight pm sharp I'm here, my usual booth tucked in the far back corner. Clambering of chairs, drunken chatter and obnoxious laughter. A sea of suits on every table as the dimmed lights give a certain feel to the room, singers and dancers fill the stage front centre. Cigar smoke fogging the air. 

My marital partner had quite the word to say about my choice of dining. Preferring far more sophisticated settings. But this, this right here is exactly what I need after a week of gruelling business deals and fake smiles. 

A loud beep sounded, its time. Snickering as my padded thumb ran over my lips somewhat keeping me in check.. Staff of the establishment tapped their wands thrice chanting. Strong gusts brewed, warping the room. Grasping the edge of the table to keep steady as we swirled. The evident change in lighting from bright white to shaded maroon, made me giddy. 

Now the real fun begins.

The waitress returned in due time with the meal, and a change of attire now watershed was subsiding. I didn't know what looked more appetising than the steam food placed on the table, until my globes settled at the bare bodied brunette.  Smirking in appreciation of everything as her full breasts hung above the chicken, mindlessly hoping they would smear with sauce so I could clean her attentively. 

Ah, did I forget to mention this is a special kind of restaurant that has a required taste, which I could feast on. Welcome to Sirens, by day it's a five star prestigious diner. Oh, but by night the fine minxs of the world appear to be touched, teased or dominated.

Stage adorning a quaint band now replaced with an erect pole, females of all varieties dressed in barely there lingerie. Heels that reach skyscrapers bedazzled in jewels. 

Dabbing my chin and lips with a napkin as I push my clean dish to the side. I all but inhaled my meal, the quicker it's finished the quicker i can get to why im really here. Elisa pops back up out of air, wiggling her chest as she does. Clicking her fingers vanishing the plates and cutlery. Laying down a tablet which is the equivalent to a small computer on the table cloth.

"Is dessert on the cards tonight?" She speaks suggestively. 

Smirking wide, I shoot my greys to her. Amusement filling my expression. "Of course, I've always had a sweet tooth"

"Hmmm, well let's make sure you get a cavity tonight then shall we?.."

"I don't know why you bother with this menu, you know exactly what, no should we say who I want" And it's not the woman before me. Don't get me wrong, her creamy skin makes me want a taste. Not tonight though, the one I sink my teeth into is just the top tier, the creme de la creme of sweet innocent tight cunt…

"I'm sorry she isn't available tonight" 

I'm a brat being an only child and I will always get what I want. "Impossible, she never breaks our schedule"

"Sir, I know. But she is with someone.."

"I'll double his payment"

"Sir please.."

"Triple.."

"There's plenty of others.."

"No, I want her" Tone sharp and demanding, the girl jolts back at the volume. Sighing,I try a different approach.  Reaching a gentle hand out to glide up her forearm "Come on Lissy.. don't you want to please me"

This time her shield drops beetroot in colour, thighs rubbing as her breath hitches. 

"Of course I'll see what I can do" As she runs off to solve this issue, I rise from my seat in search of the one my cock is heavy for. 

They call her Victoria, I call her my secret.

Drifting round tables to the black leather doors, nodding at Seb the bouncer as I push open the entrance. Heading for her room, Last door to the right. I know it like the back of my hand. Not bothering to knock, I enter, there she is. 

Fucking hell. 

Hips jutting on top of a man sprawled on the mattress bound to the bed. Mask covering his sight, seeing as he didn't budge when I entered, she must have deafened him. She takes sight, hearing, and movement. I know this because the first time we met she did the same to me. Victoria is the only woman here strong enough to be in control. To belittle, humiliate and undignify arrogant fuck wits; like myself. Earning her a fuck tone of galleons. 

The crowd favourite and mine. 

A chuckle flees her lips as she realises I'm here, my cologne is distinctive, "I wondered when you bust your way in here?"

"Am I that predictable?" Shoulder pressed to the door frame as I took in her outfit. Leather smothered skin, stockings that are begging to be torn apart by my teeth. 

"And some"

With that she lashed her riding crop to his chest, speaking in her native tongue. As the bloke beneath tenses and gurgles from thrill. Rippling muscles defining, strands of jet black dripped with sweat. Faulting in my stance at the erotic scene. That's when I notice the dragon's tale twisting around his bicep, a red smaug portrayed on strong shoulder blades. Back not visible but I knew because I had one identical to the man before me. 

Knuckles blanching white as my fist clenched. Stare following his left hand a silver band nestled three fingers in. 

Hoarse snarls left my throat, "Did you know" 

The fire haired bitch throws her head back, grinding her hips down harder. Sounds of moisture echo. "Of course I knew, quite the covert operation you two have" 

"Undo the spells.." 

"Now why would i"

"Undo the-fucking-spells" Edging forward to loom over them, as Victoria cussed wandlessly lifting her magical ties. As the blindfold vanished before doe eyes which remained squeezed shut. Smiling brightly with a groan. Despite my vexation, the woman continued doing what she is paid to do. 

Grasping her hips, he pushed into her. Until I cleared my throat, dragging him from the pits of pleasure to the fire resonating in my irises. Lashes fluttering to identify who else was with them. One last groaned sentence of pleasure before the shock hit. 

"Fuck, you are something.. shit" Now he sees me. 

"Hello Darling, how are you?" Kneeling down beside the bed on my hunches, to stroke lean digits through his dishevelled locks. What an interesting turn of events it is. 

"Love, it's not what it looks like.." He cowered back, a quake to his breathing.

"Funny that, looks like the dick of my gay husband is inside a woman"

Surprise, surprise I have a husband. Didn't expect that, did you? Draco Malfoy himself is dating a man. Basically, after fucking my way through school woman just didnt tickle my pickle like they used to. During college I may or may not have dabbled in the changing room with a quarterback. Eventually i came to terms with my bisexuality, i embraced it fully. 

The man buried deep in a glorious fuck hole well he wasnt just a one night stand he meant far more. When my heart beat and throbbed as hard as my length I knew this was my destiny. Grant Robins, a tanned, ebony haired English major stole my morals and beliefs and squashed them beneath alligator loafers. He was my professor only a few years my senior, wicked smart. Not to mention absolutely fucking gorgeous, when i fell behind and took extra classes it was innocent until it wasnt,. That fine Monday after hours when I was stuffed to the hilt of cock, down on my knees pleading for his load to taint me. That day I found myself screaming for daddy and I'm not talking about Lucius. 

We are both switches, over the years I've taken on the role of dom and he is my little deer. Happy, satisfied in our marriage and sex life. So, how did we both end up unfaithfully fucking the same girl. 

"Tut-tut boys, seems you clearly have a lot more in common then you thought" 

"You shut up" I    ndex pointed at the pouty beauty that corrupted our souls, slits narrowed as I eyed up the slit in between her legs. Shaking my head, flincing forward to grasp my lover's jaw in my grips. Growling, against his lips the reminstents of metal and juices smothering them. 

Naughty deer. 

"Whilst that display was interesting, I know you can scream for me baby, can't you?" Grant's hues searched my face for an answer,”Want me to take you like the man you are, yeah?" His skin crawled with goosebumps so i continued, "Slip your cock into my tight arss, whilst I ride you just like she did, hmm?" Breathy feminime moans cut through i'm assuming from the twitching cock being hugged by her walls. 

"Love, ple-please" 

"There he is, good boy" Rising to my feet, i signal to Victoria to move causing my man to groan in loss of warmth “Go sit on the sofa would you sweetheart” Smirking she glides to the couch, leaning into it winking as she guides her knees up heels pressed into the suede material. Two fingers sucked into her mouth, I can feel myself straining. She is a filthy, filthy girl. As soon as they entered her drench hole, I lost it. Casting a vanishing spell on my clothes cock slapping the skin off my stomach as its unleashed weeping with want, lip pulled into my teeth as i take a palm to stroke some tension away , shifting gazes down to the squirming form beneath me, lust drooping his eyes, I'm going to make them disappear to his skull.

 Leaning down as he chants murmured pleas, palms pushing his legs wide pushed to his chest. I let a trail of spit hit his cock admiring the veins bulging, sculpting it to a masterpiece. I am way above average but when i say the girth on him is intimidating i mean it. The saliva slid slowly down his balls landing right where I hoped it would, on his puckered hole. Electricity soared through me as I felt my own watton hole mositen, a giggle came from my reaction. The harlot in the corner cast a lubrication spell.

Taking that as a push, I straddled my husband. “Do you want this darling? You want me to help you ruin me?” Rapidly nodding he sighed a `please`. Lifting up I lined his still hard dick against me, sinking down to break the barrier, wincing at the burn. Grunting at the stretch, god i'm a whore for him. Flitting my eyes to Victoria her jaw slacken, fingers now at a third pumping fast sights never leaving us. 

Grants hues disappeared, his breaths picked up rapidly thundering as I swallowed him whole. Sack rested on his abdomen, beginning a steady grind. Nails from his fingertips cut through skin as he held me tight. Neither of us every lasted long the attraction was too deep, the want to fuck eachothers brains out hourly too raw. 

Slapping of skin sounded as Grant's legs wrapped into mine, keeping me there, keeping me on him. Chest leaning down to capture his whining lips, his cries of sheer pleasure. At that moment it was us as our abs signed rubbing one another. Teeth grazing, clashing, inhaling each noise that slipped out right now the world could burn and I wouldn't care if it was just us, me and him. 

“Please-Please Draco - oh fuck” The husk in his moans as he calls for me is enough to make me cum unaided. Sweat dripping onto each other, a scream emits from the sofa. Reminding me we are not alone. Both our eyes followed to see the cause of this triangle, spurts of arousal drenching her surroundings, Nippes tugged and twisted between picnher grips. My speed became animalistic i fucked that dick limp, growling grant came hot and rapid inside me as his hand tugged me free of the pain i felt from the hardened muscle. My release hit me like a freight train spasming out of control at the hands of him. White thick seed soaking his skin. Whilst he paints my insides. 

Collapsing onto his heaving body, heads tucked into crooks of each other's necks. Musty aromas suffocate the air. 

Patronising claps break the calm silence. "Bravo draco, bravo" 

"Now that you've brought your hubby to a whimpering wreck let's get some things established" Digits dig into the tendrils of my hair yanking it back to face the mistress. 

Tongue darting out to lick a stripe from my neck to my jaw, nipping the tight skin before pushing my face closer to Grant, following the movement she whispers directed to the shuddering dark haired man,"See him?” Hinting to myself “Your oh so macho, strong and fucking godly husband?" Grant's eyes flicker back and forth between us, "It's a lie, isn't it. He likes to show off but really he is a pathetic little puppy" Shoving my head away she cackles, Striding to the centre of the room "Kneel for me Draco". Exhaustedly I push myself up and drop as requested. "Good, that's my good boy" 

"You, Kneel beside him" On shaking legs my husband joins me. 

"Fucking hell this is a sight gentlemen I must say" I bet it is “Seperate your knees” in sync we do, hands behind our backs. Gazes cast down to the wooden floor, wincing as my sensitive tip grazes the cold floor.

“Now now, my obedient babies, let's see who can make my vocals shatter” The brazen female steps forward, plush thighs touching both our cheeks. As she smirks down, “On your back Draco your mouths on me, and you darling dove, Wrap your lips around him”

And that's how the night continued in to the wee hours of Saturday morning. 

Victoria was the missing piece we never knew we needed. 

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself. 

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant. 

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already. 

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression. 

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy. 

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing. 

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics. 

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day 

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[lovestraykldz]

icstay | chanlix

summary: it's another fall without him, and felix can't help but continue the habits he's started since the last day with chan. cw: implications of death                      i can’t stop thinking about you ,, rain taps the windows of the cafe as the door opens every so often; customers ordering, drinking, and leaving. the leaves resting on the cement outside become soaked and more fall from the rain pulling them. autumn’s crisp air visits the cafe with each customer, the place staying warm for only a few moments at a time. another fall without him. it doesn’t surprise me that more people walk in once school hours end. the shop is pretty well known around seoul as the menu doesn’t have much of a limit to it. he actually introduced me here our first year of high school. i take a sip of my earl grey tea and finish my coffee cake. outside, a high schooler says something to his friends and drops down to tie his shoe. he stands up and rushes to catch up to them, walking into the cafe seconds later. their group adds to the noise already bustling in the evening rush. i overhear one of them talk about visiting a pc room after they order and they’re all in. “i’m sorry. i can’t.” the others pester him as to why and he says, “my brother just got back home and he said he’s cooking tonight. i’ll go tomorrow.” his friends mutter okays and wave him goodbye as he goes home to his brother. my phone buzzes on the table and i almost feel something. hey, i just came back from uni. do you want to go out for a meal? my treat! i reply with an enthusiastic sure and turn off my phone when he says to meet him outside my complex at 18:00. after an hour or so, the cafe calms and my sister comes over from behind the counter. “hey,” she smiles lightly. i look to her as she sits in the seat beside me. nothing is said for a few moments until she sighs. “i have a date tonight, so,” she pauses, bites her lip carefully and continues. “i won’t be home until late. you don’t have to stay up.” i nod and take the last sip of my earl gray tea, taking it to the kitchen behind the counter. she follows me and asks if i’m mad. i shake my head. “why would i be mad?” the kitchen door opens and her coworker kihyun puts his things away as his shift is finished for the day. he leaves us afterwards and we’re in an awkward silence. “because it’s the fall..” she trails off and i can’t help but make a remark. “it being fall doesn’t mean anything. you find someone when you find them and you don’t let them go until you know. don’t make the same mistake i did.” the air stills and she looks at the floor like it’s the one she’s having a conversation with. i wash the mug and plate and leave them on the rack to dry. i look at the clock and it strikes a quarter to 18:00. “i have to go. have fun on your date. see you tomorrow,” i say and dry my hands, making my way home to change into something a bit more fitting for the occasion. i turn my phone on right before i walk into my apartment and jisung texts me a second later as i’d timed it. i’m downstairs! :) i reply an okay and slip on a pair of jeans, a white tee, my converse, and his hoodie. when i reach the front door of the building, i see jisung whistling and looking around. he sees me walk out and waves with a smile. “hey! how’ve you been?” he asks. i tell him the truth: okay. he nods and smiles as if okay was something spectacular to be. i ask him the same and says he finally got his own apartment and he’s going to adopt a puppy soon. he goes on about his future dog as we make our way to the restaurant. upon entering, the waitress at the front desk asks us how many and jisung answers a table for two. we’re seated after minute and given our menus. “your waiter will be with you soon,” she smiles and walks back to the front. i take out my phone and turn it off, setting it on the table beside my chopsticks. jisung notices and asks. something clicks and i ask myself like the protagonist in a drama, why’d i turn my phone off? “habit,” i answer simply and he nods, almost taking note of it. i stand by my action and keep my phone off but still ask myself why i’d turned it off. “felix,” he calls my name softly. i look up from my menu. “what’re you going to get?” he asks, tilting his head to the waiter waiting for me to place my order. “can i get pork belly and stir-fried rice cake,” i order and jisung follows with his and the waiter takes our menus, saying our orders will be up soon. he looks over at me with a slightly shock and confusion in his eyes. “you like pork belly?” he asks. i nod, asking myself why i ordered pork belly if i was already planning on eating stir-fried rice cake. do i even like pork belly? jisung seems to take note of this too, and he puts it aside bringing up how uni’s going. “it’s good,” i lie. i haven’t gone to classes since two weeks ago. my professors have emailed me saying if i don’t show up next week, they’ll either drop or fail me for the semester. i can’t tell him, though. he’s the only one treating me like i’m not broken and the moment he hears this i know he’ll try fixing it. he sighs, dropping his head and says my name as if i’m a child in trouble by his father. “have you even gone to your classes?” he asks, his eyes are now closed. i hum a yes and he looks up, a bit angered. “felix. please,” his expression goes soft. “tell me the truth. how’s uni? how are you?” he breathes carefully as if his breathing will push his questions to push me off the cliff. suddenly, finally, i feel something. i don’t know what to say. i want to say that uni sucks; that i’m not doing so well; that it’s getting harder to get out of bed again; that i can’t stop ordering the food he ordered on our dates; that i can’t stop turning off my stupid phone becasue without him i have no one i need to text; that all i can smell is his damn cologne; and that all i want to see his stupid face one last time. but all i can do, is cry. i don’t make a sound, and nothing falls, but the tears form heavily. he sees our waiter with the food and asks if we can get it to go. the waiter nods and goes back to place everything in containers. when he comes back with our take-out, jisung pays quickly and we leave. once we reach my apartment, he starts opening the bags. “do you want to watch a movie?” he asks. i agree and put on howl’s moving castle, hiring the volume enough so we can watch it from the kitchen table. once the movie finishes, we get up and i start clearing the table and sink for the night. “hey, jisung,” i mumble. he hums softly in response. i put the dishes down and let the water run as i ask, “how’d you get over minho?” i look over and he has his head down, maybe thinking. he looks up and smiles lightly, “i didn’t. sometimes, you just learn to live with the memories they leave behind. it took me a while to start smiling again,” he pauses and looks down again. “the last year of high school and starting uni weren’t the best. i couldn’t get up; i didn’t want to. all i wore for months was his cardigan he left behind.” jisung sighs and leans against the couch, still smiling softly. “i’d even check my phone a lot; i thought he’d text me or something. don’t even get me started on the pictures,” he chuckles. i let my head down and think, so, i’m never getting over him ,,? “thing is,” jisung continues. “it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. i know i didn’t lose him like you lost chan. can’t imagine what it’s like.. i’m sorry.” i shake my head, “it’s not your fault.” “it’s not your fault either,” he sighs, standing up. “i should go. it’s getting pretty late. i’ll text you. keep your phone on tomorrow?” i nod with a faint smile and he smiles back, waving and leaving to his place. i’m alone in my apartment for a couple more hours till my sister gets back, so i decide talk as if he’s still here. “hey, chan,” i try to smile. this is stupid.. but it’s all i have. “i hope you made it to the happy place you always told me about.” tears start bubbling up. “i miss you, a lot. i still wear the hoodie you gave me for my birthday. it’s still really soft,” i chuckle lightly. “i hope you’re not mad that i’m using your cologne on the hoodie.” there it is: the first tear i’ve let fall since that day. “i miss you so much, chan. fuck!” i let out, going to the ground. “how can i forget you?! i can’t stop fucking thinking about you!” i try to breathe, and let out one more cry. “i can’t stop thinking about you..”                                                  ☽ !disclaimer!: i wrote this without knowing if chan is passed or not, so i myself am not sure what the situation is.

[electrickoushi]

cook me up some love

a/n: my first work in my valentine’s series! i literally wrote this at 6am because i woke up and couldn’t sleep, so if something doesn’t make sense.... please ignore haha. thank you for reading :) 

pairing: miya osamu x suna rintarou tags: fluff, like 4 suggestive lines, the word kink twice at the end wc: 1.7k 

Rintarou can’t remember when or why he agreed to working as the cashier at Onigiri Miya on Valentine’s Day, yet here he is, ringing couples up who are actually getting the chance to enjoy their special day. Naturally, his sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu though, who had planned a special surprise for his boyfriend all along.

The restaurant smelled like spices and ingredients and whatever the hell else Osamu put into his cooking.

Rintarou clicked the button on the register with his index finger to open and close the drawer with a ding each time. His face rested on his hand, squishing his cheek and molding his expression into one of pure boredom.

“Excuse me.”

Rintarou looked up to find a couple waiting to pay for their meal. He wordlessly took the receipt, entered the total, took their money or swiped their card, gave them their change if they had any, stabbed the receipt onto the pointy thing, gave them another receipt, wished them a Happy Valentine’s Day, and returned to playing with the register.

This happened countless times until Rintarou felt the angry eyes of his boyfriend on his back. He gulped. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with Osamu when it came to his cooking and restaurant.

“Rin, please stop that. I've had multiple customers complain about you.”

At least he’s still using a nickname, which means I can’t be in too much trouble.

“Sorry.” He clicked it again, the register drawer flying open.

“Rintarou!” Osamu growled.

Oh, he was in for it now.

Osamu was already sweaty and stressed from being the head chef of the kitchen. His boyfriend’s antics that were driving away customers was just the cherry on top to an already difficult evening.

“You, watch the register,” Osamu snapped. “I need to have a talk with Suna here.”

Oh God, last name basis. That’s bad.

He dragged the faux cashier into the storage room where they wouldn’t be bothered and Osamu could properly yell at him without disrupting the customers.

At least, that’s what Rintarou thought.

Instead, when Osamu shut the door, he turned around and hugged Rintarou.

“I’m sorry for making you work tonight. I know you’d rather be at home, watching a movie or something.”

Rintarou was surprised but wrapped his arms around Osamu’s shoulders. “I just want to be with you. I hate seeing all these couples enjoying their Valentine’s Day while you’re stuck in the kitchen. I hardly ever get to see you.”

Osamu kissed his boyfriend’s cheek, taking in a whiff of his cologne. He ran a hand through Rintarou’s brown hair and felt him soften at the touch. “I know, but I have a surprise for later tonight. Didn’t you wonder why I decided to close early on such a profitable night?”

“Nine is considered early?”

“For a day like this, yes. So just work a few more hours for me and then we close, and I’ll have your surprise all ready. Can you do that?”

Rintarou found himself nodding along, enjoying the way Osamu’s hand felt running along his scalp and his hot breath tickling his ear. Osamu’s other hand was rubbing small circles on his waist.

“You know,” Rintarou started, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand to lead it higher. “I think it’s pretty soundproof in here, as in no one would hear us if we just-”

“Shit, I forgot I have something on the stove. Okay, see you later!” Osamu kissed him once more, this time on the lips, and shut the door behind him.

Rintarou gaped, realizing he just got played for the fool he was. Like a child, he was placated by the promise of a surprise. And to think, he believed he got the less evil twin.

Rintarou stepped out of the storage and resumed his position as cashier. The dinging stopped now that his mind was focused on something else. Namely, being fucked in the storage room of a restaurant owned by his boyfriend.

“Sir, can we pay now?”

God, he really needed to stop spacing out.

“Yeah, sorry.” He rang them up and told them to have a good night.

Every so often, Osamu would come out of his kitchen and check on Rintarou. It was under the guise of affection but he knew that Osamu was just making sure he wasn’t aggravating any more customers.

It was 8:45 when Osamu had flipped the sign and told the hostess to stop letting people in. Hopefully that would mean people would leave relatively soon, but some stayed until they were explicitly told to get out by an employee. That was Rintarou’s favorite part of the job.

The fifteen minutes passed by so slowly that Rintarou started to think the clocks were broken. He missed Osamu.

Yikes, when did I start sounding like such a simp?

Only one couple was left, and they had been sitting there for a good hour. Rintarou would know because when he got bored with playing with the register, he would people watch. This couple in particular seemed to be in a brand new relationship, the stage where you asked surface level questions and gave surface level answers.

By 9:05, Osamu walked past Rintarou at the counter and towards the couple.

“Hello, we are closed now, and I see that you two have finished. I hope you enjoyed your meal. If you could just pay and leave please, I would greatly appreciate that.”

“We wanted to order dessert,” the woman said, looking at the desert menus posted on each table.

“The kitchens are closed.”

The man interjected, “You’re the head chef, right? The Miya that runs this place. Can’t you just whip something up? It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Like I said, sir, the kitchens are closed.”

Rintarou watched the exchange. He knew his boyfriend could handle it since he’s dealt with so many rude customers over the months. That didn’t mean Rintarou liked seeing his boyfriend get stepped on though. Being nice and polite was very much an Osamu thing, but Rintarou never believed in such diplomacy.

He got up and walked towards the table. “Get out.”

Osamu and the couple looked at Rintarou.

“How rude. Are you going to let your employee talk to me like that? He should be fired,” the man said, glaring at Rintarou.

The brunette wasn’t fazed. He just glared back, using the same stone-cold expression he used to intimidate his opponents on the court.

“He’s right. Get out of my restaurant and don’t ever come back again,” Osamu sneered, fed up with their behavior. They had no right to treat Rintarou like that, or himself, for that matter.

The couple shuffled out of their booth and walked away, the woman’s heels clicking on the ground. Osamu rolled his eyes and took their dishes.

“Sorry they didn’t pay,” Rintarou said. If he hadn’t butted in, Osamu might have gotten somewhere with them, but patience was never his strong suit.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you got them to leave.”

Rintarou followed Osamu as he walked back into the kitchen and dumped their dishes into a giant sink. He rolled up his sleeves before spraying the food off them and slotting them into their giant industrial dishwasher. Rintarou felt like he should help, but he just watched, enamored with the simple action of his boyfriend doing dishes.

A few minutes later, the hostess came up to Osamu and said something in his ear. Rintarou didn’t even realize she was still here. He couldn’t hear what they said over the running water, but it must have been something important since Osamu nodded and dried his hands. He shut the water off and smiled at Rintarou.

“Close your eyes.”

“I do not want to run into a hot stove and die.”

Osamu slapped two hands over Rintarou’s eyes. “Walk forward. It’s literally a straight line from here.”

Rintarou did as he was told. He was led to a table by his boyfriend who was grumbling about how he walked at the pace of a grandpa.

Osamu removed his hands, and Suna blinked rapidly to adjust to the lighting. He looked up to find Osamu with his apron on and a pad of paper in hand. The table was set for two, even though neither of them needed a menu.

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya. My name is Osamu, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you started with a drink?”

Rintarou cracked a smile. “Osamu…”

“Since you won the boyfriend lottery, everything’s on the house today and will be cooked by yours truly.”

Well he wasn’t going to say no to that.

Osamu bent down, briefly shedding his character. “You want your regular?” he asked, tucking the pen and paper away.

Rintarou nodded and Osamu stood back up. “That’ll be right up, sir.”

The nice hostess brought him a glass of water while Osamu worked his magic in the kitchen. Rintarou sipped on his water before getting up and changing the music on the speakers since he had boyfriend privileges.

The cheery pop music shut off and was replaced with his and Osamu’s shared playlist. Arctic Monkeys floated throughout the restaurant.

Sitting back down, Rintarou waved goodbye to the hostess. She waved back and wished him a Happy Valentine’s Day.

Only a few seconds later, Osamu came out with two plates of steaming food. He set the plates down before sitting down himself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rin,” Osamu smiled before shoving a ginormous bite of rice into his mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Samu.”

They ate and talked happily, remarking on various customers and incidents that happened during the day. Drinks spilled on tables, people dined and dashed, minor fires that almost burned the entire place down started in the kitchen, the usual really.

After they ate more than enough leftover heart-shaped cookies, Osamu cleared their plates and dumped them in the sink, deeming them a problem for tomorrow.

He did some owner stuff that Rintarou never bothered to understand before shutting the lights off in the kitchen.

“How’s the storage room looking?” Rintarou asked, side eyeing his boyfriend.

“We can just go home, you know. Or is it a kink thing?”

Rintarou admitted unabashedly, “It’s definitely a kink thing. Put your apron back on. I’ve dreamt of this moment for a good four hours now.”

Osamu shoved the keys back into his pocket and dropped his bag on the closest chair. He dug his dirty apron out, letting his boyfriend drape it over his neck.

“Suna Rintarou, you sure are something else.”

[outoftownagain]

The best restaurants in Santorini, Greece

This, of course, isn't a definite list. We didn't even try a fraction of what the culinary world of Santorini has to offer and I am sure there are plenty of equally fantastic or better places. But by these 5 restaurants stood out for us and came recommended by other travelers and locals.

Hope you're not hungry!

---

1. Μεταξύ Μας / Metaxi Mas 9FQ5+H2 Exo Gonia, Greece www.santorini-metaximas.gr

Metaxi Mas is a must whether you take a taxi, rent a four-wheeler, or simply walk from the charming village of Pyrgos. (We were advised very strongly against doing the latter by a very nice lady at a souvenir store: "It's not possible to walk, it's in the next village! But it is a wonderful restaurant, you must make it there regardless," she said. We did it anyway and it took about half an hour of walking downhill.) And just like pretty much everyone we spoke to about Metaxi Mas promised, it is absolutely amazing. You won't find your regular horiatiki and moussaka here, but by the time you make it here, you've most likely had enough of those and will be excited to take a quick break. You'll also have a change of view, because the cozy terrace is overlooking the airport and the less photographed side of the island, which may be slightly less iconic but gorgeous nonetheless. We started with Smoked Fish in a Chickpea Stew and the moment we tasted the dish, we knew that it would be the best meal on the island. We continued with Shrimp saganaki finished with ouzo, tomato sauce, fennel and feta cheese, which I will remember for a long time. And then, for a finale, a Spicy fried pork with Assyrtiko Santorini wine (which we were about to learn all about at a nearby winery, Santo Wines) with peppers, onion, garlic, Santorini cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and boukovo—red pepper flakes. Were we full? Of course. Did we want more? Absolutely! It was our last day on Santorini, so we knew we wouldn't have time to return to Metaxi Mas, so we asked our lovely waitress if she could suggest just one more, small dish, simply because everything was so delicious that we'd love another bite. She said that her favorite thing on the menu was Oven-baked asparagus with Cretan graviera cheese and estragon, and we thought that a little asparagus appetizer would be a perfect finishing touch to this feast. Little did we know that the "small dish" is in fact a huge plate filled with lots and lots of hot, melty, delicious cheese (with a little bit of asparagus buried deep under). It was way more than we wanted but way too delicious to leave behind and a taxi to take us to the wine tour at Santo Wines was already waiting. We might have burnt our mouths a little but we finished the asparagus and our wonderful waitress brought us a dessert packed to go because she knew we had to go. If you're in Santorini right now and looking for some delicious food, I couldn't be more jealous of you!

---

2. To Psaraki Vlichada Marina, Vlichada 847 00, Greece www.topsaraki.gr

Near the southernmost tip of Santorini, at the end of Perivolos beach you'll find the charming Vlychada port. Arguably the best place to view it from (and definitely the most delicious one) is To Psaraki taverna. You'll have to drive or take a taxi there but the place is worth the trip. The actual restaurant is very nice but you really want to sit at the bright blue terrace across the street, which overlooks the port and the sea. Eating at To Psaraki feels like finding a hidden gem andt also like being on a Greek postcard at the same time.   The food is delicious and it starts from the very beginning—each table receives a bread basket and a portion of Santorini tomato paste with olive oil and oregano. (There is a tomato paste museum down the road, but it was still closed due to Covid when we visited.) We continued the feast with Fresh Greek mussels steamed with wine and spring onions (it's hard to imagine a more perfect dish to go with the view of sea and a distant smell of a seaport) after which a gorgeous Grilled Octopus arrived. Can't say that we were hungry anymore, but our main dish — fresh and homely amberjack was only about to be served. Accompanied by vegetables, tomatoes and a lemon, it was wonderful.

The restaurant overlooks the port and a short walkaway is Vlychada Beach with black sand, a beach bar and some amazing view of the cliffs, which makes it easy to spend a whole day in this small area.

---

3.  Kokkalo 25is Martiou 25, Thira 847 00, Greece kokkalosantorini.com

We arrived in Santorini midday and after the initial shock caused by the overwhelming beauty of the view from the plane, then the taxi and finally from our suite, we were ready to eat. We picked Kokkalo purely because it was the closest recommended restaurant from our suite. It did take some climbing (everything in Santorini involves countless stairs and hills) and then a short walk along a busy, narrow street, but the place was 100% worth it.

We were greeted by a very friendly and quirky lady with a very particular sense of humor and a tray with 2 glasses of strong, local liquor. Day drinking it is! After hearing that we just arrived on the island, she was quick to recommend a local specialty—Santorini tomato fritters. "If you're going to have them, you need to have them here," she said, "we have cooking classes and we teach how to make them here." Tomato fritters are very tasty, but to be completely honest, it is one of those dishes that you try once and don't necessarily need to order again anytime soon.

We also got the Santorini Greek Salad and Chicken Souvlaki, which were both absolutely delicious and anyone could eat them every day for a long time. The presentation of the chicken deserves a special shoutout—it is definitely an attention-grabber when it arrives at the table.

Kokkalo is totally a great spot—it may not overlook the volcano, but staring into the flat side of Santorini with Anafi island in the distance is a pure pleasure! Mix that with great food, chilled wine and lovely service and you have a fantastic experience!

---

4. Roka Mpotsari 6, Oía 847 02, Greece www.roka.gr

I'm not gonna lie, Roka was a bit of an accident (a great one though!) We hiked from Fira to Oia and we completely underestimated the time it would take us to complete the hike considering all the stops for wine, snacks, photos and views. They say that the hike takes from 3 to 6 hours and it did take us 6 hours (we're fast hikers but we stopped A LOT along the way to enjoy the views and wine) so when we finally got to Oia, we needed to eat before the sunset and most places were either booked or still closed because of Covid. We basically ran to check out Roka and it is semi-hidden in a maze of small, charming alleyways so we got a little lost trying to find it. We were greeted by a man who looked like he could be in a movie about a mafia-ran restaurant: white shirt and a tie, a sceptical gaze, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and a brutal silence. He turned out to be our waiter and luckily he turned out to be very friendly, much contrary to our first impression of him.

We were seated at the small back patio lit by the setting sun and overlooking the sea and some less touristy parts of town and the island. The food was absolutely delicious yet presented in a slightly pretentious but cheesy way. It is not taverna food and obviously the chef is aspiring to a higher level of a dining experience. To start we were served rusk with olives and delicious tomato paste, which we learned was typical of Santorini, famous for its cherry tomatoes. Then we continued with ‘Imam Bayaldi’ with eggplant, shrimps, ’Oyzo’ glaze and chilli garlic mayo and Mushrooms Ragout on a sourdough bruschetta with caramelized onions, cream and gruyere sauce. Those two appetizers were quite Huge And Totally Satisfied Our Post-Hike Hunger, But We Had Two More Dishes Coming - Main Courses This Time.

Skioufikta - Traditional Greek Handmade Pasta with Caramelized Onion, Eggplant, Zucchini, Tomato and ’Xinoturi’ From Ios, which was light, delicate and delicious. The shape of pasta is a bit like cavatelli and is a perfect vessel for the summer flavors of this dish. Fresh Dorado Fillet came with fantastic Parsnip Puree, Braised Leek that melts in your mouth with Hazelnuts and was topped with long, thin crisps that gave it an additional texture. Satisfied and excited, we ran to the nearby Castle of Agios Nikolaos for a spectacular and unforgettable sunset.

---

5. Naoussa Fira Santorini Next to the Central Orthodox Cathedral of Fira Town Mitropoleos Fira Town, Thira 847 00, Greece naoussasantorini.restaurant

When we arrived at this gigantic taverna, it was empty, with the only two guests eating at a table near the windows. We decided to sit at the other table with a view—right next to the couple finishing their dinner. It turned out to be a quite an unfortunate choice because those guests were an extreme example of a married couple who goes out to talk to other people in bars and restaurants. We spent the entire dinner listening about the wealth, success and amazing life of our co-diners, all the houses, apartments, businesses and countless trips all over the world were described in detail whether we wanted it or not. We also learned the history of their relationship including tidbits like: "Would you believe that after not seeing me for 2 weeks my husband chose to take me out to eat sushi instead of taking me to the bedroom straight from the airport?"

But back to the restaurant, the food was delicious and the sunset view (when we managed to look away from our interlocutors) quite terrific. We started with Dolmades, which are vine leaves stuffed with lemony rice and happen to be one of my favorite small dishes. The leaves are the best when they're delicate and not veiny, the rice needs to be moist and the entire thing is best served room temperature or slightly warm. So good! We also had a tuna salad with hard boiled eggs, which looked a bit like mess but was packed with unexpected flavor. We finished with a whole fish, which was absolutely perfect.

We did drink a lot of wine and we took our time eating, listening to the forced stories and admiring the sunset. At some point the initially empty dining room filled up completely and then it emptied again. It felt like we experienced the whole circle of sunset dining crowd.

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 7: A Salad

The Storybrooke Sequel to Golden Cuffs

Rumple makes dinner for Mrs. Gold

Read on AO3

Cooking was a skill Rumpelstiltskin shared with Gold. In the old world, the women who’d raised him had shown him all their tricks of brewing and baking and making the most of anything on hand. They told him that a boy needed to be able to do for himself just as much as a girl would. When he’d married Millah, he’d known more recipes than she had. They’d laughed about that--during the brief time when there had been any laughter between them. Even before she left him and Bae, the task of feeding them had often fallen on him.

Once he’d gained the powers of the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin had been able to conjure up feasts beyond imagining. He’d delighted in pulling food out of the air, grand dishes he would never have tasted as a poor spinner. But Bae had insisted that he liked the old meals better, the food his papa had made with his hands. So he had tried not to use magic for a while. For Baelfire’s sake, he had tried.  

For Gold, cooking had been a necessary art. There weren’t many restaurants in Storybrooke, and their menus quickly grew tiresome. Though he could easily afford a private chef, Gold disliked the invasion of allowing another person into his home. Why should he trust some stranger in his kitchen, handling his food? Gold took pride in the self-sufficiency inherent in creating his own menus. Cooking required patience, preparation, and a deft hand--all traits he valued in himself. 

And, as with most things, it was a way to flaunt his wealth. Not everyone had the time and resources to master the art of haute cuisine. Gold could spend hundreds of dollars on a set of copper crepe pans or custom-forged knives. And he would only bother with the rarest ingredients--the freshest vegetables, the leanest cuts of meat. The style of this world was to present individual bites of food on plates large enough to hold a whole dinner. At fine restaurants, a three-bite portion could cost more than a family’s weekly grocery bill.

Disparities like that amused Gold to no end. His cruel, spiteful nature liked wasting money as much as he liked having it. He would season his food with costly saffron and white truffles--and then throw half of it away, uneaten. No one in Storybrooke knew about that, of course. But Gold knew. It gave him a twisted satisfaction to compare his own extravagant asceticism with the panicked thrift of every working-class parent who looked with grateful eyes at the 99 cent kid’s meal at Chicken Little’s.

Because of course Gold had no actual appreciation for fine foods. Bastard didn’t take joy in any of his possessions or his privileges. He just liked having things that other people couldn’t afford. Things that other people wanted, and envied him for having.

Mrs. Gold came into the kitchen through the door that led out from the patio. Relying on his cane, Rumpelstiltskin had only been able to carry the box that held his dagger and the chipped cup. But his wife held a bag of groceries in each arm.

“I’ll set these down and go get the rest!”

She flounced off, an impressive feat considering the height of her heels. Belle had had difficulty the first time she’d worn shoes like that. It had been his task to teach her how to walk, how to dance. They had come to love dancing together in the ballroom of his castle. On the day of their wedding, they had danced for hours.

But in this world he was crippled again. On the night Mr. and Mrs. Gold had wed, she had danced with every man in Storybrooke except him. 

Small as she was, even hobbled by her footwear, Mrs. Gold was capable of mundane tasks that would cause him agony. Whether Gold liked it or not, his life was easier with her around. 

Perhaps that was why Gold liked to make her life so difficult. 

When she came back to the kitchen, Mrs. Gold busied herself with the groceries and Rumpelstiltskin began to make dinner. Without thinking about it, he pulled out a drawer for a cup into which he could measure out chicken stock and wine and something called arborio rice. Gold had already planned to make risotto, and Rumpelstiltskin had no reason to object. He let Gold’s knowledge guide him through the process. On his own, he didn’t know where ingredients were or how to operate the massive hearth--no. Gold’s kitchen had no hearth, just a stove. It was powered by something called natural gas. 

A twist of a knob, and Rumpelstiltskin summoned up a circle of blue flame. On top of the flame, he placed a heavy, enamel-coated saute pan. It was so clean it looked like it had never been used. But he knew it had been. This pan was one of Gold’s favorites. 

Into the pan, he drizzled a stream of oil. The bottle said it was imported from Italy. Rumpelstiltskin assumed that was a marker of quality, or at least expense. He felt Gold in the back of his mind, offering up exactly how much the best extra virgin olive oil cost per ounce, not to mention the price of shipping directly from Tuscany.

Rumpelstiltskin pushed Gold away with memories of a time when even butter was an unspeakable luxury. From the time he was a boy he had learned to pour off grease and lard and meat drippings into a clay crock so it could be used again when needed. Fat had been a precious commodity in the old world. Animals didn’t have much on their flesh and people had even less. The idea of being choosy about what the grease tasted like--or even if it had gone rancid--was ludicrous.  

Behind him, Mrs. Gold had the refrigerator door open and was putting away the food she had bought earlier.  

“Can you hand me the chopped leeks?” Meticulous as a machine, Gold did the preparation for his meals days ahead of time. Half the glass containers in the refrigerator were full vegetables he had minced to a paste or diced into perfect uniformity.  

“Yes, Mr. Gold!”

She bent at the waist to search for the container he requested. With obvious intent, she hollowed her back and stuck out her pert, round, arse. His hands itched to touch her. He wanted to squeeze that soft flesh or deliver a sharp smack against her pretty skirt. Nothing too severe. Just enough to make his wife yelp. Just enough to let her know that he was looking. 

Instead, Rumpelstiltskin looked away.

Surprisingly quiet in her heels, Mrs. Gold set some food on the counter beside him.

“I got out the butterflied chicken breasts as well, Mr. Gold. Was that correct?”

“It was.” He said what Gold would say, made the menu Gold had planned. “And you’ll serve the same sauvignon blanc I’m using to make the sauce. It should all be ready in less than twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful!” She smiled like he had given her a gift. “After I put away the groceries, may I set the table for both of us?”

He heard the question inside her question. Every night, Mrs. Gold set a place for her husband at the head of the dining room table. Where she ate depended on how he felt about her on any given day. 

“Yes, dear.” Rumpelstiltskin unwrapped the chicken from the butcher paper and added it to the sizzling leeks. “I want my wife close to me tonight.”

****

  While Gold had control of the actual preparation of food, part of their routine was that Mrs. Gold had to plate the food and bring it to him in the dining room. It stroked Gold’s ego to be served by a beautiful woman, to have his wife at his beck and call. He got to use his power. Pretend that he was some kind of lord of the manor. 

A sad little king of a sad little hill.  

Rumpelstiltskin sighed as he sank into the carved wooden chair at the head of the table. Like everything else in this house, the table was an antique masterpiece, stately and dark. A red damask table runner spanned the length of it, breaking up the shine of the polished oak. Two thin tapers burned in crystal candle holders on either side of a centerpiece of silk flowers. Even with the candles, the room was an ocean of darkness.

They were soy candles. Rumpelstiltskin hated knowing that. Soy melted at a lower temperature than beeswax, so these candles were relatively cooler, more tolerable on bare skin. By the time the meal had ended, quite a pool would have melted down. Hot wax, ready to pour over a naked body, if that was what Gold decided he wanted for dessert. 

He looked to his left, to the chair where Mrs. Gold would sit. Both places at the table were set with polished silver and gold-rimmed crystal goblets. Linen napkins were wrapped neatly into engraved napkin rings. The bone china plates were currently in the kitchen. Most people in Storybrooke only saw this level of grandeur at black-tie events. Like weddings. 

“Here we are!” Mrs. Gold burst into the dining room with a plate in each hand. She was still wearing her high-heeled shoes. She had been wearing them all day. Didn’t her feet hurt?

Rumpelstiltskin almost stood to help her. But the second he put weight on his ankle he winced and sank back into the chair. His cane was leaning against the table’s edge. By the time he thought to grab it and stand up properly, Mrs. Gold was already placing a plate in front of him.

“Thank you for permitting me to join you, Mr. Gold. I hope you’ll find me pleasant company.” She poured some chilled white wine into his glass. Her voice wasn’t quite as bubbly as it had been earlier. She seemed more subdued, like she was trying to be seductive. 

Rumpelstiltskin took a drink. 

It was only when he set his wine glass down again that he noticed that Mrs. Gold’s glass was empty. She hadn’t poured anything for herself. Though she sat in a chair, her hands were placed palms-down on the table top, on either side of her plate. 

Oh yes, that was a rule. She wasn’t allowed to start eating until Gold did.

“Well, then.” Rumpelstiltskin shook out his napkin and placed it in his lap before he cut into the chicken and leeks. 

In the silent dining room, he heard the half-sigh that came out of Mrs. Gold. She was relieved, wasn’t she? Grateful that her husband hadn’t changed his mind about tolerating her presence. 

Swallowing his first bite, Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to speak. But what could he say? What could he offer this woman? How could he undo the damage of twenty-eight years of living like this? 

But he had to try. 

He looked up at his wife. And for the first time, he paid attention to what was on her plate. There was nothing but green leaves. No chicken in white wine sauce. No pan-fried leeks. Not a single grain of risotto. 

“What are you eating?”

He heard his own voice come out in a thin, deadly whisper. He gripped his fork, too tightly to be natural.

Mrs. Gold saw that. She dropped her own fork onto her plate and looked over at him with wide eyes. “I--it’s a salad, Mr. Gold.” She lowered her gaze and sat with her hands in her lap. If he concentrated, he could see her trembling.

A salad. 

Of course it was. He had seen her bring it in with the other groceries, a plastic tub of pre-washed baby spinach. Cheap and easy, just like her. It was part of their routine, one of Gold’s rules. Every night for dinner, all Mrs. Gold was allowed to take for herself was a plateful of salad greens, with no dressing. Anything else she ate, he would have to expressly permit or give her himself.  

Sometimes Gold liked to make her beg for every bite until she cried.

He took a breath. He didn’t speak. He willed his pulse to slow down to a reasonable pace. He kept his voice controlled. He couldn’t frighten this poor woman any more than she already was.

“I cooked two portions of chicken,” he said carefully. “I wanted you to have some as well.”

“I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. Gold.” She kept her head bowed, her whole body tense. She expected an attack, verbal if not physical. “I thought you wanted the other piece for your lunch tomorrow.” 

“I want to provide for my wife.” He tried to explain, tried to keep calm, tried to keep from crying. Buried memories crashed into his head and he had to raise his voice to hear his own thoughts. “I want you to have more than just fucking leaves!”   

In one instant, a thousand memories assaulted him all at once. Year after year--first as a child, then as a young man on his own, then with his son beside him. When the hungry months came upon the land and winters wore on and on. The stores left over from harvest grew smaller and smaller. And Rumpelstiltskin never had much to store away even in good times. Year upon year, he waited as the winter ebbed, but the hunger remained. Waited as they days grew longer, but the trees stayed bare. Waited until the first hints of green began to bud and grow, signalling that spring was coming and there would be something to eat again.

He had shown Bae what his father had shown him. He had taught him the ways of the woods. They had so little land for a garden, but there was always something in the Duke’s forest. He had bundled up Bae in his shawl and his cap, to go out in search of food. And every year they had found mushrooms and ramsons and Jack-by-the-hedge--anything to flavor water enough so they could call it soup. Anything to keep them going for one more day. 

Bae being who he was, he had thought it a grand adventure. He had wanted to know what else in the forest could be eaten. And Rumpelstiltskin had shown him violets and wood sorrel and taught him to boil stinging nettle. But Bae was a growing boy and all the adventure in the world couldn’t fill his gnawing belly. He began to eat anything that was green, any leaf, except for those he knew were poisonous. 

One day, Rumpelstiltskin had found his son in the pasture with the sheep, his mouth stained green from eating grass and clover. 

To his shame, he hadn’t stopped him. He hadn’t said a word. Because Rumpelstiltskin--spinner, cripple, coward--had nothing better to give him. Because Rumpelstiltskin--useless, penniless, worthless--could not fill the belly of the child he would give his life for. The person he loved most in the world had nothing to eat except fucking leaves!

Taking his cane, he stood up quickly. Mrs. Gold flinched at the sudden movement. Rumpelstiltskin bit back a curse that would have burned down the house around them if he had any magic at all. 

She started to rise, but he hobbled over to her. Plate in one hand, cane in the other, Rumpelstiltskin slid his dinner onto Mrs. Gold’s raw spinach. 

“Sit down,” he ordered through clenched teeth. “Stay here. Eat that.” 

“Yes, Mr. Gold,” She answered like an automaton. What was the word in this world? A robot. A toy programmed to have the same responses no matter what the owner said or did to it. Mrs. Gold was nothing but a thing. And not even a thing Gold valued enough to care for. 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

He went back into the kitchen without a word. He didn’t trust himself to speak. 

It took the last straining threads of his self-control to keep from throwing Gold’s fine china plate against Gold’s state-of-the-art refrigerator. He should take this wretched cane and smash in the glass-fronted cabinets, destroy everything inside. All of Gold’s crystal and porcelain and the plates so thin you could see light through them--he should shatter them into splinters and shards. Rumpelstiltskin should destroy all the things Gold held so dear. Objects that mattered to him more than the woman he had married. It would feel so good to reduce his wealth to nothing and his prized possessions into rubble.

But that wouldn’t bring Belle back.

It wouldn’t undo what had already been done.

With a single breath, all the rage escaped from Rumpelstiltskin’s body. He leaned against a wall and felt himself crumple into a heap. He had just enough presence of mind to cover his mouth with his left hand. Stifle the sobs so she wouldn’t hear. 

That bastard! That monster! How dare Gold do these things to Belle! Rumpelstiltskin knew his share of evil, but he still had enough humanity to be appalled that Gold would treat her this way. His most precise cruelties were reserved not for his enemies or his debtors, but his own wife! The woman he had chosen to marry, the woman whose hand he had held as he vowed to cherish and protect and love her!

But instead Gold made her starve herself. The richest man in Storybrooke took it as a point of pride that his wife barely ate. In this palace of a house, he begrudged her every inch of space. He made her feel like an intruder in the only home she had. He degraded her and insulted her and treated her like she was less than human. Worst of all, he made her think that was how he showed affection.

“Gods.” He rasped out a prayer to powers he had never believed in, deities who didn’t exist in this world. “Gods, Belle. What did I do to you?”

Because as much as he blamed Gold, as much as he hated Gold, the truth of the matter was that this was Rumpelstiltskin’s fault. He had created the curse. He had wanted to come to this horrible world. He had planned and manipulated and twisted the path of fate to his will. He had worked so hard, for centuries, to get to where he was now. He thought he had arranged it all, so that the price of this magic wouldn’t fall on him.

But the very existence of this town was a punishment. According to the one who had cast the curse, Rumpelstiltskin was due the suffering he had lived under for twenty-eight years. Being Gold was a bleak and miserable existence. And he had taken out his anger on the one person who would never leave him.

He looked down at his hands, at his wedding ring, at the scar on his palm. He had made vows to Belle. He had promised to protect her, to belong to her, to trust her with the best and the worst of himself. Like Mrs. Gold, she had a mind-boggling capacity for loving even the most vile of men. And unlike Gold, Rumpelstiltskin could not punish a woman for loving him.

It wasn’t Belle’s fault, and it wasn’t Mrs. Gold’s. The persona of Gold didn’t exist anymore. As satisfying as it was to rage at a dead man, there was no way to take Gold to task for how he had treated his wife. 

And Belle would say it wasn’t his fault either. He had come to her so many times, full of worries and guilt.

Sweetheart, how can you still love me? Knowing what I’ve done and what I’ll do?

Rumple, she had assured him. This curse is a powerful weapon, but it is not in your hands anymore. You are no more culpable for what happens than a swordsmith is responsible for a duel.

Part of him didn’t believe her. He could never look at himself with the grace and mercy of Belle’s kind heart. He had created the curse, he had wanted this weapon to be used. He had placed it in the hands of a madwoman, knowing it would destroy her, knowing it would bring misery to everyone--including himself and the woman he loved. 

Still, perhaps Belle was right. And perhaps, somehow, he could find a way to redeem himself for his past. Even if he could never be good enough, perhaps he could use his evil for a good purpose. 

Perhaps. 

When he was ready, Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself to his feet, dusted off Gold’s fancy suit, and went back into the dining room. 

Mrs. Gold was still at the table, her posture rigid but her plate empty. She looked up when he came through the door. For a moment, he saw her eyes--the perfect blue rimmed with red--and then she looked away.

“I finished everything, Mr. Gold. It was delicious.”

His heart broke anew at her voice. Belle was so strong, so sure of herself, even when she faced insurmountable obstacles. Always, she would stay brave. Always, she would do the best she could with the knowledge and tools she had. In that moment, Mrs. Gold seemed just like her.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Rumpelstiltskin stayed in the doorway, both hands braced on his cane. “From now on, when I make a meal, I expect you to eat your share.”

She nodded, still an obedient creature. “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

They were silent for a moment, then Rumpelstiltskin spoke. “I want to apologize, for earlier. I should have been more direct in my desires. And I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me. I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Gold blinked, several times, before she spoke. “I--W--You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Gold. You can do whatever you like.”

“I know.” Rumpelstiltskin swallowed back the bile in his throat. “And what I would like is to have a wife who is well-nourished and who doesn’t fear her husband.”

She twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “I don’t fear you, Mr. Gold. I just hate the thought of disappointing you. I never want to be less than what you deserve.”

From the beginning, Belle had always been more than he deserved. He had stopped a war to acquire her, and he would never fully pay for all the love and goodness she had given him. 

But he couldn’t tell any of that to Mrs. Gold.

“I’m going for a walk,” he announced. “I need to clear my head.”

Mrs. Gold nodded and stood up. “Where should I go, while you’re out?”

In spite of himself, Rumpelstiltskin clenched his jaw. “You are allowed to stay in this house when I’m not here.”

“I--Really?” She looked more confused than pleased. “Even when I’m not tied up or anything?”

He let out a long, heavy sigh. Yes, he remembered. Gold had regularly left the house while his wife was restrained with no way to get out. There was also a dog cage in the basement where Gold would leave her on work days when he didn��t want her in the shop. It was a miracle the bastard hadn’t killed her. 

“Yes,” he answered. “In fact, it’s high time you got your own key to this place. It is your home, after all.”

Slowly as the dawn, a smile lit up her face. Gods, she was so beautiful.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold!” She stood up from the table and moved to embrace him. But Rumpelstiltskin held up one hand and she stopped in her tracks. 

“You can clear the table whenever you like. I’ll wash the dishes when I return.” 

That was another part of Gold’s arrangement. He didn’t allow his wife to clean, because he didn’t trust her with his precious antiques. For Rumpelstiltskin, the thought of submerging Belle’s hands in dishwater like a scullery maid was an insult. Far from the worst thing she had ever been subjected to, but the principle stood. He would gladly do drudgework if it would spare his wife the labor. 

“What should I do until you get back?”

He shrugged. “Something you like,” he suggested. “Something to pamper yourself.” Something to make up for the hell you’ve lived in for twenty-eight years. “You could have some of that ice cream you bought today.”

Mrs. Gold chewed at her bottom lip as she thought. “I could… take a bubble bath, maybe?”

She was asking for his permission, his approval. He gave it to her. “That’s a very good idea,” he said gently. 

He pushed away the thought of his wife’s legs sticking over the edge of a bathtub. Her head leaning back as she relaxed in the steaming water. Her lovely body hidden under piles of white bubbles until she emerged like a goddess from the sea, warm and soft and scented with roses.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. This wasn’t his wife in front of him. Belle was gone, and it was time to confront the person who was really responsible for that. 

He had to see the Queen.  

[enkelimagnus]

Pork

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1777 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Coming out of that disastrous therapy session, Bucky comes home and tries to deal with some of his feelings.

TW: mention of torture and death, of family member deaths.

Read on AO3

Part 6 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

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

The door slams behind him as Bucky storms into his house.

He has lunch plans but Raynor’s words and eyes and behavior stick to the corners of his mind, sickening like too-sweet candy he shouldn’t have eaten. Except he didn’t even want to eat it. It was shoved into his forced-open mouth. He tried to spit it out but he couldn’t. It was too late. It was already clinging to his teeth.

He rips the gloves off of his hands, then the jacket off of his back. There is light in the room, the light from the outside streaming in through the one window he keeps unshaded. There is the tv, playing an endless loop of soccer. The green and the gold bounce against the glass protecting the Smithsonian postcard he put up on the wall.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, laughing at some stupid joke he can’t remember. He’s looking at Steve like he hung the moon, and in that moment, he knows that’s exactly how he felt about this sun-kissed Brooklyn kid.

It hurts to think about this picture. To see himself smiling like this. To know he was already Hydra’s, even if he thought himself free. To know he’d probably already lost Steve.

He forces himself to take a deep breath. The expanding of his lungs is uncomfortable.

Why is this upsetting to you?

Because I don’t get to have secrets. I don’t get to be a person. My mind is yours to tear apart and put back together and you’re just Hydra wrapped in star-spangled banner paper.

This isn’t the first time he’s come back from seeing Raynor feeling like there’s a vice-like grip on his heart.

She doesn’t care enough to do her job properly. She doesn’t care enough to do the paperwork to get him someone who will be good for him. So he’s stuck, because she can’t be fucked to make life less terrible for him.

No one fucking cares enough. Not Raynor, not the people at the VA, not his superiors in the taskforce. And not Steve.

The Smithsonian postcard is an insult. 4 dollars and change for a snapshot of a memory. 4 dollars and change and you can bring home Captain America and Bucky Barnes, and look at the card and think you know what it was like to be either of them in 1944. Best friends since childhood. Inseparable. Bullshit.

Bucky wants to tear that card from the wall and throw it away with all of his strength. But he doesn’t. He knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll hate himself for it. He’s supposed to keep loving Steve even if he’s gone. He’s supposed to think of him as this… beautiful, glorious, perfect man. He’s supposed to be okay with this.

He told him he’d be. He told him he would be fine, that he could go, that he’d manage.

And now it’s been a little over 2 months and he’s not fine. He’s not managing. And he wants to slap himself. He should have told Steve to stay. He should have told him he needed him. But he hadn’t. Because Steve wanted to leave, and Bucky’s always been the one to tell Steve to pursue what he wanted. Because he made sure he could afford those art classes by taking that second job on the docks, because he kissed his cheek and told him he was going to be famous one day. That he was going to be respected, too.

Bucky’s never been an obstacle in Steve’s way. And he wasn’t going to stop now. So he told him to go.

And now he wants to scream for him to come home to him. To come get him. To come rescue him from this horrible fucking life he’s made for himself.

He knows Steve won’t come though. He didn’t come in ‘45, when the Soviets got their hands on him. He didn’t come in ‘50, when Zola bought him from the Soviets, in the same breath he bought a bomb. He didn’t come in the following years, and eventually, Bucky forgot the name Steve.

Some nights, he hears his own begging. Steve, Ma, HaShem. No one came. No one saved him. And no one is going to save him now, in 2024. He’s going to drown in the sorrow of too many lifetimes.

What else can he do? Once his brain stops coming up with names to add to the list, what will he do?

He has no idea. And he doesn’t want to think of it. Once he’s not useful anymore, what will he be? The list is his expiration date. Sometimes, he hopes the names keep coming.

There is pent-up energy in his bones, but he doesn’t know how to get it out. It’s broad daylight, and he can’t go on a proper run right now. People will see. He has no desire to go into the military base’s gyms right now. He can probably go into the guest room and pull out the punching bag and rip it to shreds.

He doesn’t have a lot of time. Lunch is coming up. It’s Wednesday. One of the names on his list is waiting. He needs to do that. To fulfill the promises he made. It’s his purpose now.

He feels like an open wound, standing in his living room, bleeding out everywhere, burning and stinging with every miniscule spasm of muscle, every brush of air.

When he shows up at Izzy’s, Yori will ask what’s wrong with him, and he’ll lie. He can’t tell him. Yori thinks he’s just a sweet, if a little lost, guy. Moved away for a while, only recently came back to Brooklyn. Ex-military. All things that aren’t exactly lies. They aren’t exactly truths either.

Izzy’s a Japanese restaurant. The building it’s in is old, the kind of old that Bucky actually remembers. In his day, it was a butcher shop, a non-kosher one. Before his mother died, Steve would sometimes be sent to get some leftover pork trimmings from there, to thicken the soup. It smelled bad at the end of the day.

Now it’s a clean and chic place, all painted in dark colors. It’s busy at lunch time, every day. It’s also busy at dinner time, when he walks by on his way back to work. Sometimes, he grabs something to go.

He’s starting to know his way around a sushi restaurant’s menu. He’s not an enormous fan of the rice, so he usually orders those thin slices of fish, the sashimi. Izzy’s has this plate, red tuna and salmon with a side of seaweed salad. The red tuna has a meaty quality that surprised him at first, but he really enjoys it. It tastes thick and fat on his tongue. He surprises himself with the diverse arrays of foods his palate accommodates.

Thinking about the food, about Yori, and Leah, the lady that serves them at Izzy’s somewhat feels good. They’re relatively untouched by the horrors of his mind. At least for now. One day, he’ll have to tell Yori he killed his son.

For now, he wants to be a little selfish. Yori’s old. The kind of old that makes Bucky feel comfortable.

He still has to watch himself, make sure he doesn’t talk too much like an old man, that he doesn’t tell stories he shouldn’t know about. When he says things about the old Brooklyn he grew up in, he says they’re his grandfather’s stories. If no one looks too close at the details, it works.

It doesn’t help the weird distant feeling he has sometimes when it comes to his life. It pulls him away from it. As if it wasn’t really his life.

He guesses he has little in common with the James Barnes of the 1930s. A name. Some memories. Nothing else. His family’s gone, his neighborhood’s gone, his friend is gone, his shul is gone.

He eats sashimi now, with that spicy green paste - wasabi. He watches soccer on a tv in color that he can afford. He has a computer - that he doesn’t use - and a mobile phone. He’s a soldier. He never went to college.

He was smart, back when he was James Barnes. He could have gotten into university despite the quotas. That was what his father used to say. And then he died.

He departed years before Bucky lost his mind to Hydra. He was 16 the first time he led the family in Shabbos prayers. He remembers the quivering of his voice as he stood at the head of the table, in his father’s place, and recited kiddush. He remembers the tears in his ma’s eyes.

He remembers his father teaching him how to shave with steady hands. He asked him to shave him when Bucky was barely a man, before even his bar mitzvah. His hands still remember how to use both the safety razors and the straight-edged ones. Even with decades of Hydra, he remembers it. He’s thankful for that, because the clippers and electric razors people use now are out of the question for him.

The clock ticks and tocks, minutes melting away as he stands there lost in feelings and memories.

Suddenly, he’s late to meet with Yori and he almost runs to the restaurant where the old man sits at the counter like he always does, saving a seat for him.

“You’re late,” Yori points out and Bucky finds himself sheepish.

“Didn’t see the time.”

He takes his seat by Yori’s side. They talk about sports and the papers, and the obituaries. Bucky finds himself looking through the names and wondering if he knew any of them, if they were the loud kids from down the streets when he was a teenager.

Leah comes over with a smile. Today’s special is subuta.

“What’s that?” Bucky asks in a hushed voice to Yori as Leah walks away with a smile and lets them think through their options.

Yori leans back towards him. “Sweet and sour pork. Very tasty. Izzy’s the best in town. You should try it.”

“Ah,” Bucky sighs softly. “I don’t eat pork.”

It’s a lie. He’s eaten a lot of pork in his life. Pierce loved his bacon. But it’s also true. He hasn’t touched pork since he’s left Hydra. The smell of it cooking makes him think of Pierce. And there’s something inside of him that avoids it, even if he doesn’t keep kosher in any other way. He hasn’t ever announced it that way.

Yori nods quietly, not realizing what those four words mean.

There’s no way he can know. It’s Bucky’s secret.

[jadekitty777]

Baker’s Dozen, Part 1

Oh my god we are at the home stretch and I am still amazed I managed to do all eight days. This is a two-parter, so the second chapter will be up tomorrow.

Day 7: First Morning @taiqrowweek

Rating: K

Words: 6,000

Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]

Ao3 Link: Baker’s Dozen

~

Early Saturday afternoon found downtown L.A. bustling with traffic on the sidewalks and the road. Qrow found himself in the heart of Pershing Square, lying on the grass and enjoying the midday sun beaming down on him, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.

“Oh my god! Qrow Branwen?!”

His eyes shot open, seeing a small gaggle of women hurrying his way as every head within earshot turned to look right at him.

Oh right.

That was why.

He shot to his feet, yelling over his shoulder as he sprinted away, “Sorry! No autographs today!”

He thanked whatever gods might be out there that his last role forced him to stay in excellent shape, because he was easily able to outdistance his pursuers. Unfortunately, as he skirted around the foot traffic, their yells only seemed to be attracting more attention his way. He ever spotted one desperate teenager pulling a phone from her purse.

He was about to be all over Instagram, wasn’t he?

Knowing this called for every actor’s Superman disguise, Qrow pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shoving them onto his face as he took the first alleyway he could find. Coming out on the other side, he slowed his pace to a fast walk, lowering his head to avoid further detection and slipped into the doorway of one of the businesses a few doors down before the other crowd could catch up.

He sighed, grateful for the dark atmosphere inside the building as he pulled out his phone. Alright, time to call his driver and get out of dodge.

“Table for one?” The question had him jerking around, seeing a young woman in a cowboy getup smiling his way from a little podium. Her golden hair was particularly eye catching, long and untamed in a way that reminded him of his twin sister’s. Her name tag, which was in the shape of a star, read ‘Yang’.

He took in the environment around her, noticing the array of booths and tables that made up the majority of the room, and realized he’d ducked right into a restaurant. “Uh, no sorry I uh-” He started to say, only to trail off as he actually considered it. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like he’d eaten, and it would take his driver about the same time to get there when having to slog through the weekend traffic. “I mean, yeah, just me. Can I get a booth as isolated as possible?”

“You got it!” Yang agreed, picking up one of the menus and leading him to a booth in the back. He couldn’t help but notice she even had spurs on her boots that clanked when she walked. The walls were decorated with a similar Texan flair, bull horns and deer antlers interspaced with paintings of farm homes and woodland creatures and metal lone stars. How quaint.

Despite the aesthetics though, it was obvious from the minute he sat down and the bench creaked loudly, that upkeep wasn’t a priority. Or, he reassessed as he took note of the lack of patrons despite it being the lunch hour, it probably just wasn’t in the budget. That probably wasn’t a promising sign on the quality for his upcoming meal.

“Ruby will be with you soon.” Yang said, setting the menu before him. The cover had the name ‘The Dragon’s Den’ proudly printed across it. Wait, that wasn’t southern. Did he somehow run all the way to Chinatown instead?

“Uh, thanks.” He flipped the menu, but with the lighting so low, he couldn’t read the finer script. He pulled off his sunglasses, setting them on the table before looking through his options. Despite the slightly confused name, everything within seemed pretty par for the course; roast beef, fried chicken, catfish, and a large array of barbequed meats that any Tramp off the street would gladly steal for his Lady.

“Howdy there, can I get you started w- Oh my god!”

Ah, shit.

He looked up, seeing yet another starstruck gaze aimed at him by a petite girl in a similar get up to the hostess but was a few years younger – was she even old enough to work here?

He held up his hand in a desperate attempt to ward off any screaming. “Kid, I swear to give you the best tip of your life if you keep quiet.”

His waitress pressed her notepad against her mouth, a muffled squeak escaping around it. After a moment, she took a breath, then lowered the notepad slightly to reveal a sly smile. “I’ll make sure Yang seats any customers far away from you if you promise me an autograph and a picture too.”

He snorted. What a devious little brat! He could appreciate that. “Deal.”

“Hehe, yes!” She gave a little hop before quickly composing herself, placing her pen to the page. “Alright stranger that I’ve never met and do not know the name of, what would you like to drink?”

“Don’t oversell it kid. And water’s fine.”

“Coming right up!” She scurried away. He watched her detour towards the front, dragging the blond woman to the back where they disappeared behind a set of swinging double doors.

He counted down from five in his head.

“EEEEEEEEEEEE!” Came two screams from the kitchen.

Right on cue.

“OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!!” Was the next shout he heard, the tone definitely masculine.

Yang came back out first, her gaze lingering his way before she hurried away, giggling all the while. Ruby was next, setting a glass of water on his table along with a straw.

“Your drink, mon-sir.”

He laughed. “Did you mean monsieur?”

“Yeah, that one!” She giggled good-naturedly. Despite the fact she was an obvious fangirl, he found himself taking a liking to her.

“Heard a bit of yelling back there.” He gestured towards the doorway.

“Yeah, dad just thinks we’re being dumb. He doesn’t believe you’re out here.”

Dad? Well, that might explain why it seemed this rustic establishment was getting away with breaking child labor laws. “Eh, it’s probably better that way anyways.” Kids were cute; but adults fawning over him was always a little weird, especially if they were around his age.

“He wouldn’t know how to appreciate the moment anyways.”  Ruby clacked her heels together, spurs chiming when she did. “So were you ready to order or did you want a few minutes?”

He glanced down towards the menu. He wasn’t really used to food like this. Growing up, his dad would favor getting the rice cooker going rather than tend to the BBQ gathering dust outside. As for now, his career tended to call for strict dietery needs depending on what shape he needed to be in for each role – none of which ever called for anything steeped so heavily in grease and fat. “Any suggestions?”

“Ooo,” She tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully. “Well dad just took out the kolaches a half hour ago, so those are extra good right now.”

The question was out of his mouth before he could think to fake it, “What’s a kolach?”

“Oh, it’s a Texas thing. Basically, it’s a pasty with filling. Today’s strawberry, which is my favorite.”

“Trying to sell me dessert before the main course?”

“Well yeah! That’s like the highlight of being an adult, right? When I move out, that’s how I’m gonna do it.” Ruby said proudly. “But if you want to be all traditional about it, then by far dad’s best dish is the country-fried steak.”

He knew what that dish was at least. Steak fried in batter and slathered in gravy. It sounded like a heart attack on a plate. He closed the menu decisively, handing it to her. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Great!” She quickly wrote it down.

As the girl hurried over to go place his order, Qrow took the opportunity to look up the address and text it to An. ‘Pick me up in forty-five?’

‘Certainly sir.�� She replied.

He had just switched back to his browser, when Ruby came back, setting a small plate in front of him. The Kolach was about the size of a cookie, with a breading cooked to a nice golden brown and the bright red strawberry filling dusted over with powdered sugar.

“Here you go! The best dessert you’ll ever have.” She proclaimed.

It certainly looked good, but it wouldn’t have anything on his mother’s Ichigo Daifuku. “Maybe second greatest kiddo.”

Ruby looked about ready to defend her dessert’s honor when a call of ‘waiter’ had her drawing back. “Um, gotta go. Enjoy!”

Picking up the pastry, Qrow turned his attention back to his phone. He eyed the 2.9 rating the restaurant had on Yelp, his stomach turning with trepidation as he took his first bite. The outer crust had a nice crunch but the inner dough was fluffy and light, with a hint of butter. The sweetness also hit with less punch than he was expecting, the strawberry standing mostly on its own with only the sugar on top adding to it. Just the way he liked it.

He was right, it didn’t out beat the Daifuku… but it was pretty close.

As he polished it off, he pulled up the reviews, scanning through them.

‘Great food but the decor is just awful. Pretty sure the place hasn’t had an upgrade since the 70s.’

‘Nice staff but everyone looks like they should be operating out of a western drama.’

‘Terrible! The kid waiting on me didn’t even look fifteen. She was super clumsy too. Dropped a whole cup of BBQ right on my sweater. When I demanded to speak to the owner about it, the hostess gave me attitude about how he was too busy and called ME a blowhard! What a circus show! Never coming back!’

‘The food’s amazing, but the wait times are ridiculous. Forty-five minutes for a rack of ribs? Is there only one cook back there?’

And on they went. Complaints about the location, the confusing name, more on wait time and the staff. But, beyond a few issues on the food arriving too cold, there was nothing but stellar compliments for the taste. He lent back in his seat, hearing it give another dying groan. He watched Yang sit another table of five while Ruby bustled about to get their drinks. Eyed his crumb-dusted plate, realizing the treat was probably offered to him because someone hungry was more likely to notice the wait for the main course. What a sad state. Apparently great food but poor management and lack of funds to fix anything. The place probably wasn’t going to last another year.

Ruby was all smiles when she came back to him, clearing his dish. “So, did you like it?”

“It was excellent, just like you promised.” Qrow told her honestly. For a split second, he almost let that be the end of it all. To just have his meal and leave, forgetting all about the reviews that foreshadowed the Dragon Den’s closure and the innocent kid whose family would be facing thousands of dollars in debt.

Instead he found himself strangely invested. Perhaps it was just human curiosity or pure boredom, but whatever it was, something made him lean forward, cross his arms over the table and ask, “So Ruby, you said your dad’s the one cooking, but who runs the place?”

“He does.”

He arched a brow. “He’s the owner and the chef? And he makes his kids work here?”

She shifted on her feet. “Uh well, I only help out on weekends and maybe a weekday here or there when dad really needs me. Yang’s got it real bad tho. She has to rush from her classes at Cal State to here five times a week.”

As the suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, he almost asked, but figured the deliberate omission about the whereabouts of their mother was all the answer he needed.

“There’s no other waiters?” He asked instead.

“No, we’ve got a few part timers, just not enough for a full day. Dad keeps saying when business picks back up he’ll hire a few more and a new chef too but,” Ruby averted her gaze. “That was a year ago.”

“What happened?” He pressed.

She shook her head. “We kept losing staff and now I just think he’s too busy. He sometimes doesn’t even come home. He’ll just sleep at one of the tables and then be up for the next day.”

“He’s here every day? From open to close?”

“Yeah.”

He whistled low between his teeth, placing his palm under his chin. He’d had some rough shoots over the years, but at least he had the solace of taking breaks. “Wow. That’s awful. And I bet a teenager like you hates having to work when you’d rather be at home playing video games.”

“Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Ruby refuted, before amending shortly after, “Uh well, most times, at least. Jerky customers kind of ruin my day. But otherwise, it’s okay.”

He had a feeling it was anything but. “You sure ‘bout that?”

“Yeah. I mean, when we first moved here, this place was dad’s dream.” She waved vaguely in the air as if to encompass the little establishment. “He always loved making people happy by cooking for them. Even when I was a kid he’d tell me that the gift of a good meal is the smile on someone’s face when they eat it.” She faced him, resolute and steady. “I know it’s important to him, so if I can help him keep this place by working here every now and again, then that’s just what I’ll do.”

He studied her carefully, but nothing he could see seemed imply she was lying in any way. It was a value he could certainly respect, as he and his sister had grown up being told the importance of caring for and respecting their elders. But living in America taught him that not all families operated this way. It was surprising, but uplifting, to see it here. “That’s rather admirable of you.”

Before they could say more, a hiss of ‘Ruby!’ drew her up short, and then Yang was sidling over, an impressive stack of plates balanced precariously along her left arm. “Table 3 needs their check before they bounce on us.”

“Oh right.” She paused, just long enough to place the pastry dish on top of her sister’s already full load with an overly sweet smile.

Once his waitress had left, Qrow said, “Guess I’m distracting her.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You can distract half the nation.” Yang replied. “Must be awful, never having enough privacy.”

He shrugged it off, as if he hadn’t sprinted several blocks twenty minutes ago. “Comes with the business.”

“Well, I’d hate it. I get enough attention as it is.” She shifted some of the weight on her arm.

“Ah, what? You’re the total heartthrob in school or something?” He could see that. She had other assets that matched Raven’s – and he remembered how often that had the boys trailing after her like stray dogs desperate for affection.

“Or something.” She echoed vaguely. “I’m going to go check on your meal.”

It was only as she turned away, he noticed her right hand as it caught the faint light from above. The shine to the skin too bright to be natural and its immobility too revealing that the limb was anything but real.  

Or something indeed.

God, maybe he should pitch a show because this was starting to feel like a classic TV sitcom. A single dad, running a failing restaurant and just struggling to get by to provide for his two kids, one of whom was disabled and the other was sacrificing the last of her childhood. Ruby, with her boundless optimism, would be the star of course. Yang would be the sassy, fiery-tempered co-host. Their dad would be a bumbling fool with a heart of gold. It would either top the charts or fail after the first season.

Not having much else to do as he waited, he texted the inane thought off to his agent.

Your writing leaves a lot to be desired. Stick to acting Qrow. Willow ordered.

He chuckled silently, replying: Is this why you gave your daughters such icy names? Because they were born from someone so cold?

Watch your tongue Branwen or I’ll tell Tommy Wiseau you want to co-star with him.

Ouch, I’ve got freezerburn.

I’m again questioning why I work with you.

You love me. He sent an obnoxious amount of kiss emojis along with it just to really annoy her.

She sent back swords. Ah, she was the best.  

He decided to leave her alone, switching over to one of his racing game apps and immersing himself in the competition. Every now and again, he’d catch sight of the girls in the corner of his eye. Ruby taking orders and checking on customers. Yang fetching refills or cleaning up. His red Alpine racer was just passing the finish line of the second race when Ruby was coming back.

“Here you go, the best meal in the house.” She set down the dish before him. It was an excellent presentation, like it came right out of a cooking magazine. The fry-battered steak was a light, golden brown, slathered with a brownish-white, peppered gravy. A generous helping of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and bright yellow corn, both flecked with more pepper, completed the meal. All of it was framed by the plate with its dark blue flower trim that made the colors pop and really sold the southern charm.

“Thanks kiddo.” He said, feeling his stomach grumble.

“Enjoy!” She hesitated, adding in a small rush, “Just um, call me if you need me!”

He unrolled his utensils as she hurried away, shaking his head. She was probably hoping he’d call her every five minutes, just so she’d have more of an excuse to talk to him. Poor kid probably thought she was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. He didn’t let it bother him. After all, everyone who’s ever sat down with an interview with him knew he was a terrible conversationalist.

He cut down into the steak, finding it came apart easily and was perfectly cooked through. He dripped the bottom in the gravy, twisted it around on his fork, said a silent prayer to his arteries, and took the first bite.

Oh.

Oh.

Holy Mother of Mary.

The fried breading crunched nicely but the steak practically melted into his mouth, combining with the gravy and a series of spices he couldn’t even begin to name but knew it was doing something wonderful to his taste buds.

He hummed happily. It was good. It was beyond good. As he cut another piece and took another bite, finding it as delectable as the last, he still couldn’t believe it. There was just no way anything could be this delicious.

He was over three-quarters of the way through the steak by the time Ruby came to check on him.

“Sooo,” She glanced at his plate then to him, smirking, “You like it, don’t you?”

“Don’t look so smug.” Qrow replied halfheartedly, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and hearing her fading giggle.

He didn’t get it though; with food like this, the place should be packed. If people could wait in line to get his autograph for six hours, then why couldn’t they wait a measly half hour for an incredible meal?

“Hey kid.” He said when Ruby came back around again, this time to collect his empty plate.

“Yeah?”

“We still got to take your picture. Any chance I can give my compliments to the chef while we’re at it?”

“If Yang can be in it too, you got yourself a deal.”

He chuckled. Should have expected that. “You got it.”

“Eeeee!” She squealed, hopping in excitement. “Okay, okay, let’s go now!”

He obliged, finding it hard to move at first. Wow, he was stuffed. He managed to follow Ruby to the back, seeing her wave her sister over before he was led through the double doors.

Walking into the kitchen was like walking backstage on a set – wherein the stage was just a collection of pieces meant to play their positions and what was behind the curtain was where the magic truly happened to bring it all together. But instead of sound design and lights, it was sizzling grills and knives chopping down. And instead of half a dozen people rushing about, there was only one. He was mincing up an onion with a swift finesse only the best of chefs had while singing along with a cassette player that was peddling out country tunes.

“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nooow.”

Singing badly, Qrow thought, cringing inwardly.

“Dad, no!” Ruby cried. Not even looking their way, the man just continued on, more loudly and off-key then before.

“Oh god, please smite me.” Yang groaned as she walked in, hiding her face in her hand.

Her sister raced across the room, pulling at his sleeve, hissing insistently. “Dad, we have company.”

“Meaning I have an audience that actually appreciates my performance?” His laughter was hearty as he peered over her head. The cutting stopped immediately. “U-Uhh…” Was all he managed to splutter before looking down at his daughter. “Uh?!”

“Told you he was here.” She said in a know-it-all sort of tone.

Used to this, Qrow just cleared his throat, introducing himself even if it felt a bit arbitrary. “Qrow Branwen. A pleasure to meet you.”

The man didn’t reply straight away, still taken aback by his very presence – or perhaps, from the faint lines of panic crinkling his brow, weighing over the fact he’d just served a celebrity without actually knowing it. Whatever it was, he seemed to catch his bearings, setting down his knife and crossing the kitchen. As he introduced himself in turn, he held out his hand, “Believe me, pleasure’s all mine. Name’s Taiyang Xiao Long.”

Xiao Long? Strange, he didn’t appear to have any Chinese in him, which likely meant he was married into the surname. At least now he really understood the restaurant’s title. Qrow shook his hand, surprised by the strong grip. He could feel the calluses built onto his hands from years of using cooking utensils.

“I apologize,” Taiyang said as he pulled back. “Had I taken my daughter’s word for it, I would have offered you a meal more extravagant. Or at the very least, some good wine.”

He had to keep himself from chuckling at the way Ruby stuck out her tongue at her dad’s back. “That’s alright. If I’m being honest, that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in quite some time.”

The chef’s cheeks turned a little rosy but his smile was just like his daughter’s, toothy and bright. “That’s mighty kind of you to say.” Heh, cute. He even talked like the aesthetic.

Before they could converse more, the ringing of a timer drew Taiyang’s attention. “Ah, pardon me.” He hurried to the stove, pausing only long enough to wash his hands.

“Sooooo,” Ruby stretched out the word as she slid back over, pulling out her phone. “Picture?”

“Wait, hold on!” Yang ripped off her hat, finger-combing through her golden locks. “Does my hair look okay?”

Her sister gave her a thumb’s up. “Like a rat’s nest. So yes- Ack!” She got smacked in the face with the hat.

“Girls, don’t be bothering him like that.” Their father chastised, stirring something in a large pot.

“We’re not!” Yang claimed.

He shook his head, but it was hard to tell if it was at her or at the soup he was tasting. “Really Mr. Branwen, you don’t have to.”

Ruby looked scandalized. “What?!”

“He owes us. I kept all the other customers away from him.” His eldest explained.

His head whipped around. “That’s worse! A man shouldn’t have to pay for his privacy!” As he pulled down some spices, he continued, “What you two ought to be doing is just appreciating the moment.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea dad. Now if only I had something to capture it with and keep it forever. Oh wait!” Ruby waved around her phone violently. “I DO!”

Unable to hold it in anymore, Qrow started to laugh. He was right; they would make a good sitcom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such interesting people.” He addressed the chef, “It’s alright, really. I did promise them.”

Taiyang opened his mouth to protest further, but another timer went off – how many did he have? – so he just said, “To each his own I suppose.” Before he turned to go check something in the oven.

Taking the opportunity for what it was, he held up his arms. “Alright, bring it in ladies.”

Ruby tossed her own hat next to Yang’s, giggling as his arm came around her shoulders. Yang was a little more uncomfortable, so he let his hand rest on her shoulder, above where he assumed her arm ended, and felt her relax almost instantly.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” They all smiled widely as the camera shutter clicked. They pulled away and Ruby looked it over to make sure it was good, before squealing happily. “Oh gosh it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re – oof! – welcome.” He huffed out when she nearly tackled him with a hug. He pat her back. “Now, I believe I promised an autograph too?”

She grinned hugely. “Right, yes!” She grabbed Yang, “Come on we got to find something for him to sign!” The two hurried to a small office, and he caught Ruby saying, “He could even sign your arm!”

“You think?” Yang’s voice faded to the background, overtaken by a loud sizzling.

As Qrow came as close as he dared, Taiyang said, “Thank you for this. You really made their year.” He was stirring the onion he had minced earlier around a nice heap of melting butter in a hot pan.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” He echoed.

“Still, it’s appreciated.” The burner was flipped off and the pan taken from the heat, but the onions continued to sauté.  “‘Fraid I can’t offer you much in compensation though, beyond giving you your meal free.”

He tilted his head. “Can you afford that?”

“Really, I insist. As they say, happiness is priceless.” Was the curt reply.

Only the rich say that. He scoffed at the obvious farce – not that Taiyang noticed as he turned away to attend to something else. Subtlety by words had never been his strong suit, and it wouldn’t be in the next five minutes either. So, he cut to the chase, “Listen bud, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know everything, but it’s pretty obvious from the state of this place to the lack of non-relative employees, that you’re not exactly in good standing.”

“An astute observation, but I don’t believe you needed to bring up all that just to make a case to pay for your meal.” He was back to chopping – this time, potatoes. Stubborn as a mule was a term invented for this guy, wasn’t it?

“It wasn’t.” Qrow assured. “It was a case to buy your restaurant.”

The knife chopped down so hard, it went right into the wood. Taiyang turned around to stare at him. A clatter to their left caught Qrow’s attention. The girls were both standing just outside of the office, the things they’d brought for him to sign now strewn across the ground.

No one spoke.

A beeping filled the air, and still no one spoke.

“Uh. Timer?” He said, awkwardly.

Taiyang seemed to blink out of whatever daze he was in. He came forward, almost aggressively enough that Qrow tried not to shrink back, but the other man only reached over his shoulder to turn off the timer, side-eyeing him as he walked away.

“Really?” Ruby’s small but hopeful voice shook the tense air.

Yang’s was more suspicious. “You do know you’re buying a failing business, right?”

He offered the duo a smile. “Won’t be failing when I’m done with it. This place just needs a bit of sprucing up. More staff. Maybe a new location-”

Slam! Went a cooking sheet on the countertop.

“No.” Taiyang said rigidly.

Unperturbed, Qrow carried on. “Alright, no new location. Kind of a bad move but I can work with that. But the name has got to-”

“Stop.” He commanded. “Do not treat me like a fool. I may not have grown up here, but I learned rather quickly that folks around here will do a lot for 15 minutes of fame. I will not allow you to do the same to my family.”

“What, dad-!” Yang started

“Can’t you just-!” Ruby spoke over her.

“Quiet, both of you!” He bellowed, before turning his back to them, grabbing some tongs to turn the racks of ribs around a bit more aggressively then needed. “The answer is no, and that’s final. Now, I will thank you kindly to take your empty offer and walk it out the door.”

When the girls started to raise protest again, Qrow was the one to silence them this time, raising a finger to his lips, before he took a few steps closer to the chef. “Believe me when I say the offer is not empty. Your daughter over there tells me how much this place meant to you when you first got it, but now you’re letting it rot under your feet. Is that really how you want it to go out?” The other man’s jaw clenched and he refused to look at him. He took that as a good sign, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you and your family.”

For his efforts, a set of tongs were shoved so close to his face, they almost touched his nose.

Behind the makeshift weapon, Taiyang’s eyes bored into his own. He spoke steady and sharp, “Mr. Branwen, I will say this once and only once. I have put everything I got, my entire heart and soul, into this restaurant. It is the only thing I have for my girls and I am NOT about to gamble it away on some publicity stunt to stroke a rich man’s ego. So, you ask me to believe you? Then come back with a lawyer and a contract full of terms we both agree on, as I will settle for nothing less. Am I understood?”

The storm brewing in those blue eyes didn’t intimidate him, because this close, he could see the dark circles etching a deep exhaustion around them. The mark of a person desperate and at the end of their rope. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Qrow could tell that he was a good man, as well as aggravatingly hardheaded.

“Got it.” He told him, reaching into his pocket to fetch his shades. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”

As he pulled them on and turned away, he thought perhaps he heard Tai give some biting remark about how tomorrow, perhaps he’d be offered the moon. But he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he crossed over to where the girls still stood, frozen – but unlike their father, they did nothing to hide the tentative hope on their faces.

Qrow lent down, fetching the sharpie and two sheets of paper, using a nearby counter to pen out the autographs. He even took the time to add his signature calligraphy, making the tail of the Q look like a feather. He offered each one in turn, “Ruby, Yang. Thank you for the pleasant experience.”

Yang was slow to take hers, as if she might say something. In the end she only thanked him.

Contrastingly, Ruby’s vibrancy was back, an almost nervous energy pitching her tone as she quickly offered to walk him to the door. It didn’t take him long to figure out why, as she hid her face in her treasured autograph and groaned. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s just so, so, embarrassing!”

“He’s not so bad.” He refuted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Against his fingertips, he felt the buzz from his phone signaling an incoming message – no doubt An letting him know she’d arrived. “He’s playing it smart. Even I don’t do a job without a contract.”

“Still, he could have been more polite.”

Her tone allowed no argument, so he didn’t bother to tell her that for him, it was actually a refreshing change of pace. He had all sorts of people tripping over themselves to fawn at his feet and, while some celebrities ate up all that attention, Qrow had certainly never been one of them. It was nice being talked to like an equal – a privilege often reserved only to his closest coworkers and manager.

There was also just something so honestly genuine about Tai. Call it simple intuition, but he knew what it took to play all sorts of characters and he could say without a doubt that the blond wouldn’t be able to fool a preschooler if he tried. He was the kind of man who hid nothing and wore his emotions right on his sleeve.

Qrow, who shuttered his behind fake smiles and sunglasses all day, could really appreciate a quality like that.

“It was really amazing to meet you.” Ruby said as she pulled open the front door for him. “Like, as in the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-me amazing.”

“You’re setting the standard pretty high there, considering it won’t be the last time you see me.” Qrow said, stepping outside.

Her expression lifted, her youth seeing to shine through in her eyes. “You mean, you’re really coming back? Ever after dad was, well, a total jerkwad?”

“Well, you know what they say. You feed a crow once, and it’ll come back to roost.” He pulled down his sunglasses, enough to wink at her. “See you ‘round kiddo.”

“Y-Yeah! See you! Thank you so much, Mr. Branwen!”

He was pretty sure she waved after his car long after it left the street.

~

Three days would pass before Qrow would return to the Dragon’s Den. Like a knight readying for battle, he stood in front of the door over an hour before opening time.

When Tai finally arrived, he almost dropped his keys in the gutter at the mere sight of him.

“Why hello thar pardner.” Qrow drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”

For a moment, he just stared blankly. But finally, a snort escaped him. “You need to do more westerns if that’s the best you got, pardner.” He stepped forward, adding more softly, “You, came back.”

He nodded. “’Fraid I don’t have the moon to offer you, but I got the next best thing.”

Taking his cue, the gentlemen standing nearby fixed up his tie and strode forward. “Mr. Xiao Long? I’m Hei Xiong. I work in property management. It’s my understanding Mr. Branwen here would like to strike a deal with you.”

“Does he now?” That same bite Qrow’d heard in the kitchen was back, the blonde’s hackles already raised. Not missing a beat, Hei ruffled through a few papers in his folder, pulling out the top one to show him. Tai read it aloud. “Claim of co-ownership?”

“Yes. Mr. Branwen is interested in becoming your business partner.” The manager supplied.

“…Does he now?” He echoed as he looked towards Qrow, but the fiery attitude he’d expelled like a shield had doused some.

“We would be happy to discuss it in more detail this morning, if you’ve available?” Hei asked.

Anticipation held Qrow’s breath and anxiety jumped his heart as he waited for the other man’s response.

For the second time, he was rewarded with another of Tai’s bright and toothy grins. “I certainly am.” He stepped past them both and opened the door to the Den. “Please come in.”

[papergirllife]

Date At Dusk

Johnny- Oneshot

How about we try that new Western place around the corner ? "

Johnny was always the type of person to be adventurous when it comes to trying new things and food is no exception.

He ordered a sandwich set, I looked at the menu to see that all of the varieties available were mostly carbo, the category you were cutting out from your diet.

That is until you saw the savory salad at the corner of appetizers.

" I'll have the salad. "

Johnny looked at you quizzically, stopping whatever he was reading on his phone.

" Are you sure babe? "

" Yeah. I'm not that hungry. "

The sandwich he ordered looked so delicious, it even had chips on the side. Even as I was eating the salad, my stomach was still rumbling like a beast.

The sun was setting in the corner, making Johnny look even more handsome than usual.

" The sun really compliments you, especially your hair. "

Johnny looked surprised, he brushed his hair back and smiled.

" I knew you always loved this hairstyle, it's why I don't change it. Move your chair over babe, let's take a picture. "

After moving your chair, Johnny held up his phone and put his hand around your waist as the both of you smiled for the camera.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled in hunger.

Johnny looked at you surprisingly, confusion written on his face.

" Babe, you said you weren't hungry. "

" Oh, no it's just my stomach digesting the food. "

" Babe, don't lie. Why are you starving yourself? "

" I'm not. I'm just on a diet. "

" Babe this is unhealthy dieting. I'm going to get you something to eat. "

' Shit, is he mad? ' . You thought to yourself.

He came back with a plate of pork chop rice and placed it in front of me.

" Eat up. "

He looked low key pissed, and Johnny is rarely even annoyed at many situations.

" I'm sorry. "

" It's okay. But why? "

" I just thought I wasn't as slim as I liked to be and you deserve someone as pretty and as slim as the idols in your company. I'm just worried that one day you'll leave me for one of them since they look so much better than I do. "

Tears were starting to build up behind your eyes at this point, you took a deep breath and looked up to see Johnny's gaze softening at your expression.

Johnny took your hands into his, and placed them on his heart.

" Babe I want you to know that this heart belongs to you, and that would never change. And when have I ever showed signs that I didn't like your body? Heck I love it, so much. Plus, not every woman out there can put up with me, I'm lucky I found you. "

" Really? You mean it ? "

" Every word. Now eat up, no woman of Johnny Seo's should starve. "

" I love you Johnny. "

" I love you too babe. "