#so thank you for the invitation to yap!

[novemberdevils]

oh my god oh my god omigod!!!!! just finished ch3 and dude, i'm so in love w your fic it's insane. i fucking adore your jack and nico, and you have such a compelling and vivid way with words!!!! your passion for f1 shines through, and that's coming from someone who watched one (1) race last year lol.

most of all, i'm so intrigued by nico. he's so mysterious!!! and kind, and mean, and jealous, and talented, and ahhhh. if u wanna ramble about him and his dynamic w jack, i'm all ears 💕💕

ah thank you so much!! 💕 i love writing this jack and nico so bad i have formed emotional bonds to them and i will cherish them forever... probably good i like writing them bc i have a LOT more races i need to write for them lmao my bad

yeah everything i get properly into i am completely incapable of being normal about so i have a whole lot of f1 nonsense stored in my brain still, even if i don't interact with the sport so much anymore. but it is just. such a compelling little world over there. now that i am in the land of hockey rpf i couldn't NOT write an f1 au like... it was just a need... i read some pretty banger hockey aus in the f1 fandom so it was only fair i turned the tables. i think

nico is a fascinating creature. or whatever it is he said about jack. i love writing him and i like unreliable narrarator-ing jack about him bc like. as the writer and understander of inertia!nico's brain i know what he's thinking and why he does things the way he does them, but jack hughes decidedly. does not. like jack clearly has a Very strong tendency to assume that everything nico is doing he does for some sort of personal gain -- he couldn't possibly be doing all of this because he actually likes jack, but instead it's some sort of mind-game to win him the championship, and even if jack doesn't particularly want to contribute to that he also likes it too much to stop. and i think i've said this in some of the posted stuff but jack at this point only really feels completely clear-headed when he's with nico, and when everything else in his life is just so much all of the time he kind of needs that escape, which unfortunately is attached to his title rival's mouth. womp womp. he does also like him bro is just in denial and refuses to admit it oopsies

but it's kind of a really weird dynamic as it stands. because jack is misinterpreting nico's motivations while also ignoring them completely -- mostly for selfish reasons -- and his own motivations are also kind of screwed? in a sort of backwards way he thinks all the things he does with nico help his game, which kind of vindicates him in that these mind games he perceives nico to be playing aren't working, but they do also simultaneously distract him because nico is often pissing him off and jack -- as much as he loathes to admit it -- cares a lot about how nico perceives him. he wants nico to like (coughs praise) him. there's gonna be a whole thing about that super super later into the fic like literally the second to last race of the season i have great big plans it's a whole thing. i keep mulling it over in my head lmao but i'm nowhere close to actually writing those scenes

jack clearly cares a lot about how everyone perceives him, so he doesn't properly attach his extra-care for nico specifically to anything for a while. he's busy. but he gives a whole lot of giant fucks about it, he just pretends he doesn't. something something scene from ch3 with his brothers where quinn (i think? idk i only wrote the fic) implies that nico actually wants jack to watch all his interview clips bc he thinks it messes with his head. which it does. jack is very busy pretending it doesn't. also re: this i do remember writing, jack is always reading/watching nico's interviews in particular because he knows nico might talk about him, and he needs to know if he said anything nice. it can be inferred that a lot of the drivers on the grid are talking about jack actually, because he is/was leading the championship so his name is getting thrown around a lot, but he doesn't really give two shits about what leon draisaitl or pierre gasly has to say about him, he really only stalks nico's clips

absolutely just because they are title rivals playing mind games with each other and no other reason! not because he cares specifically about nico's opinion of him! that would be crazy!

[nekrosmos]

☕️ König headcanons

Oooooh thank you Anon, I love König very much <3

- The man is extremely capable in his work and has no problem leading a high risk mission, but the moment he's not working, his anxiety creeps back in. I think there's a huge difference between König and the man behind the name and mask. He feels safe and strong as König but as a civilian he hates how much he stands out, how much people are looking at him when he's outside, and he has a very lonely existence because of it.

-Where some other operators / characters wear masks for anonymity, König 100% wears his because it makes him feel confident, makes him feel intimidating and accentuates that König/The man behind distinction. Doesn't help that he's a pretty boy and that people used to not take him seriously because of it, thus leading him to wearing a mask.

- Ginger, 100%

- Struggles with mental health a lot, and I hc that someone important (family maybe?) gifted him that red bracelet from his arachnid skin. He seems like someone who would be close to their mom to me.

- Not really a hc but I just want the 141 to adopt him. I've seen fanart of him and Gaz being friends and it melted my poor heart, and I think Price should take him on a fishing trip someday.

NSFW below, in case you don't want to read

- Subby top, the man wants, NEEDS to be told what to do in bed. He's not very experienced and fumbles a lot through the act, but has a lot of energy and love to give. He's into wearing lingerie but feels extremely ashamed of it, thinks he's too big and manly for it. He'd need a partner to guide him, tell him what to do, treat him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world, reassure him and praise him while he's ravaging said partner. Big guy.

Have a little screenshot edit of him

[ladybugkisses]

I was reading your posts about Ari and Felix and this scenario popped into my head. Let me know what you think of it!

What if Felix’s family hosted some sort of Formal event in America and Felix took the opportunity to invite Ari. Whether Felix is planning to win her back or to apologize idk, and I think Ari certainly wouldn’t know. You can tell me if Ari would even consider attending, but I like the idea that she does, and that she brings Rocky along to make it absolutely clear she’s moved on. Like, to rub it in, a bit 😁. Eleanor would definitely want to go I think, maybe she convinces Ari to go so that she has an excuse to invite herself haha

Shenanigans would ensue I’m sure. Or at least drama. It’s fun to think about, right?

it's sooo fun to think about, i have a pretty similar scenario in mind! party drama is just a classic trope lmao

Félix is too sour to invite Ari to anything and she would definitely not go if he did, so my idea is more specifically at aunt Isa's birthday party: Ari receives an invite and knowing Félix and his family will most likely attend she really doesn't wanna go at first, but the thought of taking Rocky as her plus-one makes it sound more bearable (+ he gets to meet the rest of her family, and if she does bump into Félix she won't be alone ✨ hooray ✨)

there's a part of Félix that still likes Ari and wishes they could get back together somehow, but alas he's prideful and petty- the fact she broke up with him but is now dating a street rat his words not mine is like rubbing more salt in the wound. their reunion turns into a bit of a screaming match

i picture him pulling Rocky aside at some point to try and convince him Ari's a bitch who'll dump him as well once she gets bored 🙄

as for Eleanor, she'd get an invite too!! aunt Isa's friends with her and her boss! and y'know her nosy nature would make her aware of the drama surrounding Félix, so... ..before the party's over she's gonna put him in his place a little gdskgds

overall a 7.5/10 night, it ends on a good note despite the few bumps

except for Félix, his mother's gonna pull him by the ear on the way out ♥��

[inuiiwonderland]

Change my future

Azul x fem! Reader

Words: 2.4K

Angst

-

You knew your husband didn’t like you.

Since the day he met you. He never liked you.

And it wasn’t like it was entirely your fault. The marriage between the two of you wasn’t even on you. It was your parents' idea.

Both of your mothers have been good friends since they were children. One of their biggest dreams since they were young teens was for their future children to get together and marry.

So there was no stopping them once they made up their mind.

You vividly remember the look on your husband's face when he first found out about this arrangement.

It was over dinner. His mother invited your parents over to “catch up” as she phrased it. Of course your mother was thrilled the moment she got the text. You remember how she dragged both you and your father out of bed as she told you two to get ready.

Both you and your father had to sit there for a good 15 minute drive while your mother yapped and yapped about her best friend and how she was so excited to see her again.

You were rather upset about being interrupted from your sleep.

The house was nice. It was big, beautiful, and well furnished.

Dinner was great. His mother is an excellent cook. You remember complimenting her when you first tasted her food. The woman blushed as she thanked you.

Telling you that you were such a sweetheart

And that’s when you also met him. He was nice at first. He welcomed you into his home and introduced himself.

Azul Ashengrotto

You wouldn’t lie, he was beautiful.

Pretty bluish purple eyes, soft looking hair, and a cute mole underneath his bottom lip.

He looked perfect

And you wouldn’t lie that you didn’t feel butterflies when he smiled at you.

That sweet smile

But that sweet smile soon turned into a scowl. The moment his mother uttered those words, he stood up from his seat as he looked at his parents in disbelief. Especially his mother.

“I’m what?!” Eyes wide and brow furrowed.

“Azul! Don’t raise your tone at me!”

“I’m sorry mother, but I’m NOT going to marry her! I don’t even know her!”

“That’s why the two of you are going to get to know each other! C’mon Azul y/n is a sweet girl!”

“I’m sorry mother…but I can’t” Once those words left his lips, he stormed out.

“Azul!!” His mother called out, but he ignored her.

You vividly remember his mother apologizing to you and your parents that night. Her face flushed in embarrassment after the scene her son caused.

“No it’s fine Mrs. Ashengrotto! I understand why he acted that way”

“No it’s not fine! I’m so sorry sweetie, I promise he’s not always like this!” She says as she continues spitting out apologies.

-

That was during your 2nd year of high school. After that night, your mother told you that you and Azul are engaged and that the two of you will soon be married after graduation.

You tried to look excited. But you just couldn’t. Ever since Azul found out about the marriage and how you weren’t against it and didn’t say anything to both of your parents, he hated you.

When you would come over for dinner at the Ashengrotto house or just a simple hang out, he would ignore your every attempt of you trying to get to know him.

You would ask about his hobbies, his interests, favorite color, favorite food, etc. but every attempt will lead to you being ignored.

He will tell you to go away. Do not talk to him and that you were annoying.

But you didn’t let that phase you. You wanted to get to know him. After all, the two of you will soon get married.

-

You remember asking his mom about the type of food Azul likes. She squealed when you asked as she dragged you to the kitchen and proceed to tell you about all the different dishes azul liked.

You remember spending hours trying to make him the best meal so he will at least warm up to you a bit. But all you were greeted with was your food being thrown away.

But you still didn’t let that phase you.

You soon learned that he goes to night raven college and that he’s a dorm leader. You also learned that he has his very own restaurant in said dorm.

You tried getting him to tell you all about it. How he’s doing in night raven and how he is able to handle a business while in school.

But nothing. He would just grip his pen and tell you to be quiet and to leave.

But again, his harsh words didn’t get to you one bit.

-

The news of his overblot had you worried sick. You quickly made your way to the isle of sages when you heard about the news. Walking down the halls of night raven as you demanded to know where your fiancé was at.

That’s the first time the tweels ever saw/heard about you.

Azul fiancé? Interesting.

You sat next to Azul in the nurse’s office. Heart beating at a fast rate as his eyes were closed.

“Azul…please wake up” The twins eyed each other as they continued to watch the scene in front of them.

You quickly sat straight when you saw azul slowly opening his eyes. Grabbing a hold of his hand as you bombarded him with questions and asking if he was okay.

He was confused about his surroundings but the moment he heard your voice and the feeling of something touching his hand. He screamed.

“LET GO OF ME”

You and the tweels eyes widen at his outburst. The tweels being confused and you feeling a bit embarrassed.

“A-azul there’s no need to yell! You have just woken up-“ But before you could finish your sentence, the sound of the door slamming opened caught everyone's attention.

“Azul!”

“Yuu?” He said. You turn to look at azul as a light flush appears on his cheeks.

Ah

That’s when everything clicked

Azul didn’t just hate you for no reason. He hated you because now that he’s tied to you, he won’t be able to be with the one he truly loves.

You watch as this yuu person checks up on him before scolding him about being trouble for them and their friends.

After the scolding, they turn to you with a surprise look on their face.

“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t notice you there! What’s your name?” They looked…so nice.

“Y/n”

“It’s nice to meet you y/n! I’m yuu! Are you a friend of azul?”

“No I’m actually-“

“Personal nurse” You looked at azul with a hurt expression. But he didn’t even look your way. His full attention was set on yuu.

“Right…” You excused yourself before getting up and leaving.

Trying to ignore the tears sliding down your cheeks

-

You noticed how slightly happier azul looked when he was near yuu or even hearing their name. You tried to pretend like it didn’t do anything to you. Like you didn’t feel your heart get stabbed and crushed every time you visit night raven only to see that he was with yuu.

It was like that for a year. Until the tragic news came out.

Yuu finally found a way back home. Everyone was devastated but also tried to be happy for yuu. After all that was their goal since the very beginning.

To go home

Azul hasn’t been the same after that. He started to overwork himself. Barely eating and leaving his office. You would bring him food in hopes that he would at least eat something.

Two years after yuu left twisted wonderland. It was graduation time. You were excited, happy! You finally did it. You remember the happy look on your parents' faces as they watched you walk that stage.

You were happy

But

That soon went away when you remembered. Your wedding. Of course, how can you forget that in a few months, you're going to be married to azul.

And he wasn’t happy. And he showed it.

When you would ask him about his opinions on a dress or venue. He would just scoff and tell you to figure it out yourself. That he didn’t care.

After an attempt of trying to get his opinions for the wedding, you left all the planning to his and your mother.

-

The day of the wedding. You didn’t feel the happiness that many brides have described on their special day. You didn’t feel beautiful with the dress that you had on.

It’s not because the dress was ugly! Oh no not in the slightest. In fact, the dress was gorgeous!

But…YOU didn’t feel beautiful at all. Like you didn’t belong in it.

The wedding venue looked absolutely breathtaking. Everything looked perfect.

The Moment you walked down the aisle. You could see that azul was not paying attention at all. He looked like he was spaced out. You tried not to let it bother you.

This wasn’t like the fairy tales

You were supposed to be happy! Feel beautiful in your dress and having your groom crying in the altar because of how stunning you looked in your dress!

But no. No crying, no happiness, just an empty feeling.

During your vows. You can tell that azul didn’t mean any of it. It was just empty promises.

When the words “you may now kiss the bride” came out. He looked…disgusted almost.

It was a quick peck. So quick that you didn’t even feel it.

Everyone cheered as they all congratulated you two.

This isn’t like the fairy tales at all

-

4 years

4 years after you and azul became husband and wife, nothing changed.

The two of you slept in two completely different rooms. Two rooms that were far away from each other. After graduating from night raven, he opened up an even bigger and better mostro lounge near the beach.

And that’s where he spends most of his time at. He’s barely home and when the rare chances he is home, he’s locked away in his office.

In those rare days he’s home. You will cook for him and place it in front of his office. Telling him that his food was done.

He would either throw it away and order take out or sometimes when he’s really hungry and doesn’t feel like waiting, he eats it.

You did everything a perfect wife would do. You would cook for him, do the laundry, clean, grocery shopping, care and pay attention to him even if he doesn’t like it.

You did everything

But it still wasn’t enough

You still tried to get him to open up to you. You would try to start conversations even when he ignores you. You would talk about your day when he doesn’t want to tell you about his.

It’s alright. He’ll warm up to me soon. It’s alright

You try to tell yourself that everything is alright. That he will soon change and the two of you will live life like a normal happy couple.

But that hope was soon crushed when one night, when you were coming back after using the bathroom, you heard sobs and cries coming from azul office.

In a flash you made it to the front door. You were about to knock and open the door when you heard him say a familiar name.

“Y-yuu….come back…please”

Your heart broke that night

You quietly walked away from the door and made it to your room.

You silently cried yourself to sleep. Asking the great sevens why you had to suffer like this.

This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted

-

A few days after that incident, Azul invited the twins over. You welcomed them with warm smile and told them that azul was in his office waiting for them. They greeted you with smiles before walking off to azul office.

As they made their way upstairs, you didn’t notice the pair of mismatch eyes watching you as they soon disappeared upstairs.

You decided to make some snacks for them. You prepared them with love and once you were done you made your way upstairs to azul office.

Just when you were outside the door, you heard your name being mentioned.

“Y/n? She’s so annoying! I can’t believe my mother made me marry her! Sevens she never leaves me alone. Always asking me about my day when I don’t even want to talk to her” You can hear him let out a frustrated sigh.

You try not to let that get to you. You knocked before coming in.

“I made you guys some snacks. I hope you like them” You bowed before walking out.

I can’t do this anymore

You quickly walked to your room before packing some of your stuff.

I can’t I can’t I can’t! I can’t live like this! Being stuck in a love less marriage that I didn’t even want in the first place!

Your hands were shaking as you grabbed the last of what you needed.

You looked at the ring on your finger

A ring the doesn’t mean anything

You took it off and threw it on the bed. You quietly walked out of your room before heading downstairs. Azul and the twins were busy talking about whatever kind of business they talked about.

Besides, azul wouldn’t even care

You look back at the house that you used to call home one last time before never looking back.

You wished that’s how it ended. But no

Your life couldn’t get any worse could it? Because just when you thought you can start fresh….Your life was over.

You didn’t know how it happened. One second you're in a taxi and the next everything goes black.

The last thing you hear is police and ambulance sirens coming from the distance.

And everything goes silent.

You wake up

You don’t know how but you wake up.

“Y/nn!! Get up you have to get ready! My friend invited us over for dinner!”

“W-what?” You sat up and you ask the great sevens if this is a joke.

Is my eyes flashing before my eyes or something?!

“Dear get up and get ready! Your father isn’t awake yet either jeez the two of you are going to be the death of me”

“M-mom”

“Yes sweetie?”

“What year is it?” She looks at you dumbfounded.

“Eh?”

“What…year is it?”

“Honey are you okay? Are you feeling sick?”

“Please answer” She looks at you worriedly before answering your question.

“It’s 20XX, why? Oh my sevens don’t tell me your on drugs?!”

20XX?

No

Impossible

This can’t be

Did you just…wake up in the past? Exactly 6 years ago? When you first met ….azul

“Mom”

“Yes honey? Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel too good. I think I’m just going to stay home”

-

EWWW I FEEL LIKE THIS IS CRINGE😖😖 anyways here some angst🤍 not proof read im literally half asleep rb🫠

[rosenclaws]

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

-

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

-

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

[n0vazsq]

Pas de Deux | KR7 x Reader

pairing . . . young!kimi raikkonen x ballerina!reader

summary . . . When Kimi falls in love with a ballerina, he's invited into a dance of two (or, a pas de deux)

request . . . kind of?

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . minimal swearing! story is set in 2024 with the current 2024 grid but kimi pics are from the 2000s!! there wont be a lot of f1 comments so you can feel free to imagine whatever team kimi is in! kimi is like in his early 20s so the reader is 20-24! lets just pretend he was born sometime between 1999 and 2003

faceclaim . . . random ballerinas from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . I LOVE PAS DE DEUX ITS MY FAV CLQSSIC SONG AHHHHHH anyway i hope you guys like thsi!!!!!! i legit dk anything about ballet so IM SO SORRY IF ANYTHING IS WRONG!!

taglist . . . @barcapix (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 741k others

ballerinayn loved dancing in monte carlo to my favourite song today! well done to all the other ballerinas and see you in a few weeks! thanks to my amazing friend maxverstappen1 for attending!

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username MOTHER IS BACK!!!!!

username i can't wait to see her performance next week my friend got me tickets omg

username WHAT?? THATS SO LUCKY OMGG

username MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

username why tf does she have half the f1 grid in her likes??

username shes friend with max, lando, charles, alex and pretty much every driver that lives in monaco

username doesnt kimi live in switzerland??

username yeah idk why hes in the likes

maxverstappen1 great performance y/n! you did so well!

ballerinayn tysm maxie!!

username SHES BACKKKK

username gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

username we're so back

username SHES MY IDOL I GOT INTO BALLET BC OF HER

username my wife guys back off

kimiraikkonen Beautiful.

username YALLL KIMI RAIKKONENS COMMENT

username KIMIS COMMENT???

balletdemontecarlo

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, ballerina1 and 1.3M others

balletdemontecarlo could you spot the famous ballerinayn in today's pas de deux? 👀

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ballerinayn thank you for letting me perform on this amazing stage! such a great honour!

balletdemontecarlo it was our pleasure to see you perform!

yourbsf that's my best friend right there guys 🥹

ballerinayn i saw you in the crowd and almost broke character from happiness ❤

ballerina1 our swan queen 🦢

ballerinayn you did amazing out there!!

username who else cried when y/n was spun around by that guy??

username this was so emotional you guys

username SO PROUD OF MOTHERR

maxverstappen1 good job y/n!

ballerinayn aww thank you max <33

kimiraikkonen Loved the show. Come to watch a grand prix?

ballerinayn omg kimi!! im such a big fan 🥹🥹 so glad you loved the show!! and ofc ill come to a gp ❤ just contact my team with the details!

kimiraikkonen VIP tickets will be sent shortly after.

username KIMI?? I WAS NOT AWARE OF THIS RIZZ

username HELP NOT KIMI ASKING Y/N OUT IN THE COMMENT SECTION??

username i died shes so pretty

username no bc i fell to my knees watching this at home

username how to see mother y/n perform for free??

username try not to simp for y/n challenge: impossible

ballerinayn

liked by kimiraikkonen, yourbsf, f1wags and 891k others

ballerinayn thank you kimi for inviting me to the monaco grand prix!! really enjoyed it <3 and congrats on the podium! tagged: kimiraikkonen

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kimiraikkonen Glad you enjoyed!

ballerinayn <3

username KIMI SHOWING EMOTIONS?? THE EXCLAMATION MAKR??? THE HEART?? IM DEAD

username hear me out.... y/n x kimi

username HEARD

charlesleclerc so no congrats for me on the win?

ballerinayn SORRY CHARLIE I FORGOT

charlesleclerc betryal of the century right here

username the camera panning over to y/n every time kimi overtook im crying

username guys they have so much chemistry they must be a couple

username WHYYY HIM

username have you seen kimi???

username have you SEEN Y/N????

username MY WIFE GONE TO A MAN??

username its over for us </3

username yall delusional asl they legit could js be friends

username jS bE fRiEnDs

username f1 really ships them

username i NEED them to confirm or hard launch or ill kms

username FRRR LIKE THEY BETTER DO IT BEFORE I KILL MYSELF

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, charlesleclerc and 2.3M others

kimiraikkonen Monaco.

click to view all comments

username these pics are WAYYY too aesthetic for kimi to have taken them

username i know this style of photography.....i see you ballerinayn

username THE FLOWERS??? WHOS THE PERSON>????

username THE PICS SCREAM Y/N YALL ARE NOT SLICKKKKKK

username idk who this guy is i just came because of mother y/n

username we need the gossip pages to track them down

f1waggossip on it 🫡

username THE WAY I SAW HIM WITH A GIRL WHILE WALKING WiTH MY MOM BUT I COULDNT SEE HER FACE ONLY THE BACK OF HER HEAD </3 BUT KIMI LOOKED SO HAPPY HE WAS SMILING AND YAPPING

username guys guys guys GUYSSSSSS charles posted a story and in the bg were kimi and y/n like talking and laughing and shi and he deleted like after 3 mins

username theyre friends??

username i hate this new couple

username DONT TORTURE JUST HARD LAUNCH

yourbsf 👀

username WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEEEE

username not yourbsf exposing their asses LMFAOOOOO

username man i love y/ns bsf

username "thank you yourbsf" we say in unison

username bro yall are so annoying like a girl cant even comment on her bsfs boyfriends post??

username didnt y/n and kimi kiss after his podium or did i forget to take my pills

username its the latter but i wish it was the former

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 822k others

ballerinayn rainy days around monaco with him>>>>>

click to view all comments

username WHOMST

username y/n pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee tell us who it is

username THE SWANS?? THE ARCHITECTURE?? THE STAR???

username reason of death: bitch ass y/n l/n and her sneaky ahh soft launches

username this is so her coded i cant

maxverstappen1 where was my invite?? lost in the mail??

ballerinayn maxie waxie axie you told me specifically "y/n if you ever invite to third wheel ill chop your arms off and use them as a table stand" so i think you didnt want to come <3

maxverstappen1 i-thats on me

ballerinayn it is it is

username oh so shes rich RICH 🤑🤑🤑 mommy y/n i need a sugar mommy 🥺

ballerinayn sorry that position is taken by pretty boy xx

username Y/N 😡

yourbsf 👀👀👀

ballerinayn what are you eye fucking

yourbsf you

yourbsf and charles

charlesleclerc ?????

username mother y/n feed us some soft launch crumbs

username QUEEN MOTHER MS SWAN Y/N COOKED THIS POST UP ONG ONG 🙏🔥

username if kimi posts like a similar typa thing theyre together

username im a f1 fan who came for the dating rumors but i mightve actually fell in love with y/n like imma full on start watching ballet for her

f1wagsss_

liked by waggossip, kimifanpage1, ynnlove82 and 391k others

f1wagsss_ f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n reportedly seen together yesterday. do you think it really is them or is this from a fake source?

click to view all comments

username REAL REAL REAL REAL I WANT IT TO BE REAL PLS BE REAL I BEG FOR IT TO BE REAL

username ain't no way

username this must be photoshopped bc wtf how do they even know each other??

username so nice of you to intrude into people's private love lives!!

username i ❤ you for saying this

username MY GOATS ARE TOGETHER OH MY GOD

username its legit a dream come true if it is actually real

username they werent even trying to hide it oml

username WHEN WILL THEY CONFIRM

username STOP playing with usss

username i don't need any more pics i know what's going on

username i'm so delusional to think that this is real <3

(guys click on the second tweet bc its long so it doesnt show)

wags.international

liked by waggossip, f1wagsss_, teaa.f1 and 791k others

wags.international its official! f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n were spotted on their date night in spain! will they deny or confirm their relationship? only time will tell....

click to view all comments

username why is the caption so mysterious 💀

username "confirm or deny" LMFAOOO WHAT IS IT A PASS TO ENTER A COUNTRY??

username yall hating on this gossip page harder than the others whyy 💀💀

username the caption 💀💀 and the fact that they used to hate on y/n when there were some rumors that she was dating max

username OMG OMG OMG MY PARENTS

username KIMIYN MY NO.1 SHIPPP AHHHHHH

username mY GATS

username PIERRE AND YOUR/BSF/NAME IN THE LIKES???? HELP ME

username the switch up is INSANEEE

username can you explain why they used to hate on y/n?

username they called her some words like $lut and wh0re and they also called her a fame and gold digger even though shes literally famous and already rich. they also posted some weird pics of her from when she was younger and basically they got a lot of hate for it.

username so the hate is deserved?

username VERY deserved

username i see a repeat of 2022 i am going to rage so hard that i become a lawyer and sue them

username the history with gossip page is INSANEEEE

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, maxverstappen1 and 3.4M others

kimiraikkonen The girlfriend. Rakastan sinua yli kaiken, kulta ❤ (I love you more than anything, darling) tagged: ballerinayn

click to view all comments

username LMFAOOOO THE CAPTION IS SO KIMI CODED

username SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI I AM SHAKING

ballerinayn love you too <33 mwah mwah

kimiraikkonen 🥰

maxverstappen only y/n can do that to the iceman

ballerinayn what can i say i am a woman of many abilities

maxverstappen1 ew thats disguisting i didnt need to know that

charlesleclerc she meant NORMAL abilities you dirty thinking slug

ballerinayn lestappen forever this comment has been deleted

maxverstappen1 Y/N?!?!??!?! I SAW THAT

ballerinayn mb?

yourbsf take care of my best friend yeah?

kimiraikkonen I'd rather die than not do so.

ballerinayn IM CRYING I LOVE YOU BOTH SO SO SO MUCH

kimiraikkonen Honey please don't cry.

ballerinayn KIMI OMGGG SHHSHSHSHSHHS

username y/n having a meltdown over kimi like girl me too

username this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

yourbsf

liked by ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1.7k others

yourbsf my best friend and her love sick boyfriend tagged: ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen

click to view all comments

yourfriend1 HELP not y/n getting a professienal pic and kimi's being whatever

yourbsf y/n would pose for me for hours and kimi literally ignores me until y/n tells him to notice me. he also rarely smiles around me i had to capture the moment quickly

yourfriend1 explains the shaky picture

username we need more kimiyn content from your/bsf/name

username this is so goals what

ballerinayn wow i look so good and kimi looks so pretty omg

yourbsf ofc you do youre not mother y/n for no reason

maxverstappen1 can you send that pic of kimi?

kimiraikkonen Max.

maxverstappen1 nevermind

maxverstappen1 WHY DOESNT yourbsf GET A DEATH GLARE AND I DO??

ballerinayn sorry max i love her and kimi loves who i love xoxo

maxverstappen1 are you saying you dont love me?

ballerinayn oops sorry?

maxverstappen1 you better be sorry

yourbsf now now kids settle down

username chaos is literally yourbsf's comment section

username parasocial relationship

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 581k others

ballerinayn words could never describe how much I love you. you light up my life in a way nothing else can. every moment with you feels like home, mon ange. forever wouldn’t be enough to express what you mean to me, pretty boy. ❤️ tagged: kimiraikkonen

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 love you guys even tho i hate third wheeling

ballerinayn thanks maxie <3

charlesleclerc you two are very cute

ballerinayn so are you and alex!!

yourbsf as much as i hated you being taken away from me by a guy, kimi was the right one. i approve of him <3

ballerinayn ilysm <333

ballerina1 if he can do ballet invite for a pas de deux 👀

ballerinayn oh trust me i already taught him everything

kimiraikkonen And nothing ever will ever desrcibe by love for you

ballerinayn i love you so much

kimiraikkonen I love you more. Even more than my drink

ballerinayn <33

kimiraikkonen You're the love of my life, never forget that.

[amourcheol]

agrodolce

❝Because you cannot create perfection without a little tension.❞

rivals to lovers! au | fluff | 27.5k words

s u m m a r y : one would expect being a dessert chef to be a life filled with sugary goodness, but nothing is sweet when working alongside boo seungkwan. when the two of you are forced to create a special dessert for the winter menu together, you think the restaurant will burn down. late night planning, shopping mall snooping, and a simple dessert might just save you from your expectations.

c o n t e n t : dessert chef! mc, dessert chef! seungkwan, rivals to lovers! au but i kept it tame so i didn't lose my mind, head chef! jeonghan who terrorises his employees, seungkwan is leading the sassy man apocolypse, flatmate! julie from kiss of life who wants to be santa, lots of mentions of italian desserts, lots of geographical London referencess, lots of bickering, little bits of tension, making out but no smut because im fearing god again, fluff obviously and overall just very winter-esque!!

p l a y l i s t : candy by seventeen || chocolate by seventeen || daawat-e-ishq by sajid-wajid || strawberry sunday by dojaejung

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @ourkivee @syluslittlecrows @ye0ppl @markhyuckbest @uhdrienne

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : this is not edited properly and for that i am sorry...so tired i fear but she is FINALLY done!! thank you @camandemstudios for inviting me to participate in this collab, i've enjoyed every moment of yapping and fighting over pixel cats <33 to alice and addy for listening to me complaing about this fic but seungkwan deserves sm love so i had to do my bit !! i hope you all enjoy and happy new year !! <3

back to masterlist

BEING BERATED BY A SUPERIOR WILL ALWAYS BE A HUMBLING EXPERIENCE.

Whether that be in school, when you are scolded for forgetting your homework, or gaining detention for arguing with your teacher. In the working world, it could be insufficient effort in a team project, perhaps your boss simply being a prick and wanting to make your life difficult. 

Never did you think you would be sitting in front of your Head Chef, remnants of food stuck in your hair and clothing, a sheepish look plastered upon your face as you faced his imminent wrath.

You knew it was over for you—the man at the head of the office sat, sleeveless arms crossed, eyebrows knitted in rage at your dishevelled appearance, his feet tapping viciously under the desk. You never really considered your superior to be a particularly scary figure of power, but, in this light, if he made any sudden moves, there was a slim possibility you would scream.

You wondered whether begging for forgiveness was still on the table.

“Remind me, _____,” he finally said, sighing the words out, “How old are you?” 

A part of you wished to remind him that he was not legally allowed to ask you that. You did not even know why he was asking such a question. Head Chef Yoon Jeonghan had known you for a long time now. He realised it too, but for another reason entirely. “No, scratch that. You’re an age where your brain has developed fully, right? I’m not wrong in assuming that you’re capable of knowing what’s right and what’s wrong?”

“Of course, Chef,” you answered, trying to find some self-assuredness in your voice. Difficult, in all honesty, when you were covered with salted butter and vanilla extract. 

That seemed to be the wrong answer. “Then tell me why, _____,” he asked, agitation rising, “I caught you with your hands full of whipped cream, throwing it at a fellow chef.”

You attempted an explanation. “In my defence, Chef, you weren’t meant to see that.”

Jeonghan was not amused. “I’m surprised the entire restaurant didn’t catch your antics. If this incident happened during open hours I shudder to think what our customers would think.”

Reining in a sigh, you did not respond this time, positive that another dry quip from you would have your unemployment confirmed. 

It was a little unfair, though. You were not the only one who was caught. 

A drawl resounded from beside you. “I won’t be surprised if half our customers don’t already know what _____’s like.”

This particular chirp had your self-wallowing bubbling to a rage. 

No, you were not the sole culprit, because as you whipped your head to the man who decided to voice his opinion at the wrong time, you caught the shit-eating glint in his eyes and nearly screamed the office down.

You could not stop yourself from crowing out, “Let’s not forget your 2018 meltdown over multiple tiramisu failures, Seungkwan.”

That had him scoffing harshly. “Always digging up incidents from years ago because you have nothing else to bring up.” His eyes hiked up and down your ruined uniform. “I can name your screw-ups starting today.”

“Oh, so I was just pissing about with all this food by myself then,” you snapped, gesturing towards his own mess. His hazel locks had the remnants of whipped cream too, matting his hair, whilst different coloured stains adorned his professional uniform, much similar to yours. However, you noticed he was much dirtier in appearance, which made your lips quirk upward in satisfaction.

He caught on instantly, to your distaste. “You were the one who couldn’t argue properly with me,” he accused. “No wonder you had to resort to childish gimmicks to get back at me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” A turn of your nose. “You look horrendous.” 

“You’re no sight for sore eyes either.” He reached for the thick strands of his hair, matted together with whipped cream. “Do you even know how hard it is to wash off mascarpone?”

“I wouldn’t, actually, because you missed, remember?”

“Oh, you—” 

“Enough!” Jeonghan declared, interrupting you two before any escalations occurred. “Not only were these gimmicks childish and immature, but also a huge waste on our ingredients. Mingyu’s estimated our stock for this week was cut down by 17%.” 

Your surprise was exposed through the twist of your mouth. “That’s right.” Jeonghan sighed once again, many in his arsenal. “Both of your temper tantrums have cost the restaurant financially. Aside from the fact that I will be talking to my therapist about this incident.” 

“Of course _____ wouldn’t care about the restaurant finances,” Seungkwan jeered, dusting off flakes of self-raising flour from his lap. “Nor your mental health.”

“I do care about your mental health, Chef,” you rebuked your colleague’s claim. “If I didn’t, then the stock would have plummeted another 25% at least. That’s why I didn’t touch the vintage dessert wines.” 

“You do seem to have some sense then,” Jeonghan griped, no humour in his smile, “Because if you ruined the wines on Seungkwan I would have fired you instantly.”

Not a warning—a promise. Another one of his infamous sighs exhaled from his coral lips, which he brushed with his wandering fingers in thought. “You both…you both need to stop this. I mean it.” 

“I will stop when she stops,” the man beside you asserted, glaring at you. 

You matched his venom. “I will stop when he stops.” 

“No, you both will stop, because I have had enough.” He locked his hands together, losing all amusement—as if there was any present in the first place. “Christmas period is approaching, and that means changing up the menu for the new quarter. These next couple of months will be incredibly busy, especially given the tourist season and school holidays in central.” 

Glancing at the stack of papers on his desk, he set aside a few files, sliding out a particular piece and studying the details. “As you know, the main menu has been under alteration, but the dessert menu is still the same as the summer. I have already selected the majority of the confectionery, but there is still one more dessert I wish to add to the seasonal collection.” 

He then set his sights on the two of you. “I need you to make this dessert. Hand me the plans for its creation, flavour variety, as well as its marketability in the restaurant.” 

That had you sitting up in your seat. A creation of a dessert—it was something you had concocted in larger groups, back when you were a mere apprentice under Jeonghan’s wing at Camden Market. You had done seasonal dessert preparations for the spring and summer menus, but the winter menu selection was the most prestigious amongst the luxury restaurants within your borough. With locals flocking to central London, tourists from all corners of the world flying across oceans to stay in this beloved city, they wanted nothing more than seasonal excellence. 

An exquisite dessert meant maintaining that expectation of perfection. A dessert was enjoyed at the end of the main meal, and—in your eyes—cemented the opinion of a customer on whether they would return to the establishment, or forget it ever existed. The treats you made left impressions on thousands, impressions you savoured everyday at work, and outside. 

This may just be all your hard work paying off. Finally.

Before Jeonghan could continue, you nodded, all confidence. “I will be happy to accept this task, Chef.”

A snort sounded next to you, and your smugness faltered, replaced with irritation. “You have something to say?” 

“Yeah, actually,” he said, folding his leg over the other, “I was wondering why you were piping up when Chef was asking me.” 

This time, you were the one that laughed. “Your arrogance makes you look like a dumbass many times, Seungkwan. This is one of those times.” 

He leaned in a little, nodding condescendingly along to your taunts. “Oh do I? I guess it’ll be your turn to look stupid today.” 

“Both of you are looking stupid in front of me,” the boss interjected once more. “Because I wasn’t asking a specific individual.” 

He raised his hands to the two of you. “I’m asking you both to work on this dessert inclusion. Together.” 

You halted. Stilled in the stark, yellow lights of the grand office, evidence of Jeonghan’s success. Success which you have yet to taste on your own.

Success which, unfortunately, might have died with the words that left your superior’s mouth.

For the first time in a while, there was complete silence in the office.

Even Jeonghan found the notion hard to believe. “My God,” he uttered, twisting the corners of his mouth downwards, stunned. “Maybe I should have dropped this news before the food fight.”

You could only stare at the man in pure horror. “I would rather snap raw spaghetti and serve it to you before doing such a thing!”

Seungkwan let out a groan. “Here come the dramatics,” he muttered, but you heard it clear enough. “Anything to make a fuss and delay the business.”

Jeonghan perked up. “Oh, so you wouldn’t be opposed to it?”

A smile. “I’d kill myself before working with _____.”

Your huff of laughter had the boy scowling. “And he called me dramatic.”

“Enough!” was the final outcry from your boss, who seemed ready to overthrow the desk in pure frustration. “You two…” he shook his head, raking his slender hands through his long, black hair. “I don’t care.”

The younger attempted to fight his case to the end. “But Chef, this will be a disaster—”

You chimed in for the sake of interrupting, “This will cause the downfall of your restaurant—”

“I don’t care how you two feel,” his interruption was final, his head shaking still. “I don’t give a fuck, to be honest.”

Seungkwan’s mouth parted, but then heard the fuck, and decided against saying a word. You should have followed suit, but it was against your very principle to follow his example. “Chef, please,” you tried, almost pleading to be heard out. “Seungkwan and I have completely different palettes too. It’s not even about personal differences.”

“Again, that is a setback I don’t care about.” He stood up from his seat, and almost on instinct the two of you shot up from your chairs, remnants of cooked fettuccine falling from your dampened uniform pockets. The Head Chef took note of this detail. “This…this petty rivalry between the two of you is affecting the people around you now. Both of you are so talented, yet I have seen caffeine-crazed kids behave better than you during rush hours.” 

He rested his hands on the table, his hard gaze razor-sharp. “You both have about eight weeks to hand me the final dessert plan on my table. If I receive two individual plans, or no plan at all, then I will fire you both.”

That was enough for balls to drop. You were fortunate to have none, so only assumed Seungkwan was the victim in this situation.

“Y-you can’t do that!” he exclaimed, and for the first time, you had to agree with him. A horrifying prospect. “We’re halfway through September now!”

“So?”

“You need me on desserts, Chef!” you declared, taking a more outraged stance on his statement. “What the hell will you do when there’s no one to make your amarettis?”

The man was still, face impassive. “I don’t care if you both are my best chefs. There are many big-eyed, desperate Masterchef rejects who will cut off their legs to be trained within this position.”

Whatever snide remark that almost escaped your mouth lodged itself in your throat. You wanted to feel special—like there was a place reserved only for you at the restaurant. 

Now, because of one person, that position is threatened.

“This isn’t fair, Jeonghan,” you mumbled. 

There was a pause. Then, “Don’t make me agree with _____.”

“Shut up.”

The boss took a turn from his desk, walking towards the door. “As I said,” he began, holding onto the handle, “You have eight weeks.” 

He took one last glance at the two of you, a judgement akin to the one the scriptures warned about. “Don’t fuck this up.” 

With that, he left his office with a final thud! of the door. 

And as the weight of the decision finally settled on your shoulders, its pressure making them sag, you looked to the man whose employment rested in your hands—whose hands your employment rested on too. 

The two of you scowled at the exact same moment.

If anyone was going to get fired, it would not be you.

THE RUSH HOUR OF THE UNDERGROUND TUBE SOURED YOUR ALREADY UNPLEASANT CONDITION.

The Northern line from Camden experienced a few closures, so that resulted in delays, consequently filling the already dingy underground area into a complete sardine-like squeeze. It was horrendous enough the place was like a cesspit of heat and sweat amongst all these commuters, but knowing you were going to be late was enough to worsen your mood. 

You would have complained to your flatmate, but there was no service underneath—the entire commute resulted in staring down the people who held a seat in the jam-packed tube, when you were slotted against the sliding doors of the train. Holding onto the railings for dear life, you could only hope that your colleague had experienced an inconvenience as severe as you had (perhaps tripping over his dirty laundry—maybe even a car crash on the ring road? He could take his pick). 

Once the tube finally reached Leicester Square, you could not struggle out of the train fast enough, tapping out your card and flying up the stairs in two-three steps. The Piazza of Covent Garden was not far away, but London was a city that never rested, and so the people were everywhere. Thankfully, you had mastered the art of moving out of the crowds with precision, so you arrived at your destination, only about five minutes late. 

The columns of Covent Garden’s grand building welcomed your vision. There, nestled to the side with luxury outdoor seating splayed onto the cobblestone, was the Vita di Diamante—Jeonghan’s product of blood, sweat and tears for the world to admire. The Georgian-style front was painted an emerald green, white borders of the doors and windows making the restaurant glow in the soft winter sun. Customers were already queuing, even though doors were not to open for the next two hours. You could not help a small smile forming, chest swelling with pride. 

Avoiding the front entrance, you hurried around to the side doors, this particular entrance already open thanks to Prep Cook Kim Mingyu, who offered a sheepish smile at your appearance. 

“Oh no,” you said in greeting, quickly stepping past him as he closed the door. “What’s that look for?” 

He chuckled, tightening his apron’s bow at the back. “Seungkwan’s been waiting at your station for thirty minutes.”

A curse escaped you, furthering his amusement. “How mad is he?”

“He shouted at me for the lack of ricotta in the pantry.” 

You scrunched your brows in shame, widening your lips in a line. “That’s on me. I threw it at him the other day.”

Although he shook his head, he said, “Tell me it hit his face, at least.”

“Right on target.”

Hearing his laughter behind you, you dashed to the cloakroom, quickly changing into your uniform. Tossing your bag in the small lockers, you exited, finding yourself in the familiar surroundings of the dessert station. 

From the last time you had been in this side of the kitchens, the place had been the victim of your vicious food fight with Seungkwan—stained with sauces, powdered with flour, and littered with different nuts and sprinkles from the pantry. Now, the floors and tables were spotless, all evidence of your petty rage disappeared into your memories. 

Unfortunately, the cleaners could not make the sole reason for your anger disappear. He stood, back hunched to you, like a nasty stain upon your domain, refusing to be wiped away. You could not help your glower towards his figure, a small hope that you would develop lasers for eyes and smite him off the station.

“What’re you glaring at me for? You’re the one who’s late.” 

Jerking your head back at his voice, you twisted your lips downwards, walking towards him. “You don’t know that,” you challenged, sneaking a look at what he focused on—a notebook, with scribbles written in black ink. 

“I do, because you’re glaring at me as we speak.” He glanced up at you. “See?” 

It was a little pitiful now, trying to school your face into neutrality. “Whatever,” you muttered, taking out your own notepad, setting it on the steel tops. “And for the late thing, rush hour spares no one.”

“Yet the entire staff managed to come early,” he said, a certain, condescending ease in his tone which made your glower darken. “We’re lucky that Jeonghan’s helping us with desserts in the next coming weeks, or we would have been screwed.” 

“Jeonghan’s coming?” you asked, genuinely surprised. You were aware that he was trialling a few dessert apprentices to deal with the restaurant’s rush period, butyou did not expect the big boss to turn up at the stations.

“He wants us to focus on ‘team collaboration’,” he iterated, exaggerating the latter words in air quotes, “As well as ‘building our professional relationship’.” 

“Jesus,” you could only say, dreading the near future for what it held for the two of you. Jeonghan was either the dumbest person to grace this restaurant, or enjoyed messing with his employees for work-place entertainment. 

A glimpse of the clock. “We’re due for starting up in a couple of hours, so we better start thinking up ideas now.” You looked down at the pages of your notebook, a few ideas already jotted down that needed further exploration. “Since we’re only doing one dessert, this shouldn’t take us more than a week to decide.”

Seungkwan’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “Yeah, if you’re just handing a scoop of gelato to them.”

That particular comment had you craning your head back. “You have to be braindead to take two months to come up with one item.”

“You must be putting anything in your customer’s plates then,” was his sour response, “To need only a week to create a luxury food.”

A sharp sigh escaped you. “What grand plans do you have for the public then?”

Picking up his notebook, he brushed a finger past the page. “Right…so we already have the standard tiramisu and gelato variations. We should definitely incorporate a sugary pastry since we’ve been lacking in the previous quarter.” 

“Pastry,” you mumbled. He was talking pure, unadulterated shit. Chocolate bignè was the permanent item on the summer menu—little, indulgent profiteroles that melt into the taster’s mouth. Apart from that, the generic selection of cannolis and bomobolini doughnuts were already sold at the till within the cafe section outside, so another addition of the pastry was not needed.

Perhaps your thoughts projected upon your face, because the boy was incredulous. “And what’s so wrong about pastries?”

“It’s been done too many times.” You showed him the previous menu, which he had before him. “We should do something different.” 

“And what would that ‘different’ be?”

You scoured your page, latching onto the words of strong flavours. “Stray from the sweets this time. I’ve been wanting to experiment with a few flavours, and I think that bitter amarettis will be big this winter.”

Mentioning the Italian macarons did not bode well. “Bitter amarettis? Are you insane?”

Instantly you crowed, “The Sarano branch is actually very popular ‘cause they’re smaller and easier to eat after a meal. We can flavour them with coffee or almonds.”

“No.”

The sudden dismissal was enough for you to argue your case. “It’s better than a goddamn doughnut!”

“Fine.” He clutched his notebook tighter. “Let’s drop the pastry. How about a pannacotta?”

Pannacotta—sweet cream dessert thickened and moulded with gelatin. Not your first choice, but its greatest advantage was its range of flavours that it accommodated.

You decided to try your luck once more. “We can do something with that.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, thinking of any flavours that were not simply sugar sprinkled on cream. “I’ve experimented with bay leaves before. We can add one or two to add a lime-like essence.”

The man scrunched his nose at the notion. “My God. Were you thrown against the wall as a child?”

That morbid image had you scoffing. “I had an amazing childhood, thank you. Why are you so against it already?”

“Pannacotta is a sweet dessert, _____. I’m not adding fucking leaves on a delicacy.”

“Adding herbs on certain confectionery is actually a luxury trait. You learn this in culinary school.”

Once again, the idea was immediately cut for another. “We should add cinnamon to it.” He pointed towards his notebook. “A nod towards the coming Christmas.” 

“Cinnamon?” you parrotted. “A sweet flavouring on an already sweetened cream? Do you want to rot our customers’ teeth?

“Oh, what do you suggest then?” He let out a harsh scoff. “Coffee for the millionth time?”

“Well, actually—” you were about to make an incredible point, but your partner began to groan, cutting you off. “Hey, coffee is versatile, and you know it!”

Seungkwan looked to the side, as if there was an invisible camera he could make a face to. “Here comes the anti-sweet agenda.”

Your sharp exhale was loud enough to gain his unpleasant attention. “If you had your way, all our customers would have type 2 diabetes!”

“Well sorry that I don’t want my customers as bitter as you are!” he exclaimed. “It’s beyond me how you became a dessert chef!” 

“It’s called having range, dumbass!” you shouted right back, unwilling to relent. “My skills go beyond just dumping a load of sugar and calling it a dessert!”

He slapped his notebook on the desk, leaning in. “I said to have cinnamon because it’s bloody Christmas. My bad if you like to Grinch it up every year.”

“You want to show Christmas through cinnamon, huh?” You huffed a laugh in his face. “Wow, Seungkwan, how original! I might as well put a fucking christmas hat on top of our tiramisu. Fuck it, let’s start singing a Christmas carol while we serve it since you want to be on theme so much!”

Seungkwan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want fucking leaves in a dessert.”

You matched his anger. “Well, I don’t want you in this process, but we can’t always have what we want.” 

A tilt of his head, the locks framing his forehead sliding along. “I'm not dying to work with you either, dearest.”

Dearest. That pissed you off even further. “Then find a way to deal with it,” you seethed. 

“I could say the same thing to you.”

You pursed your lips, at a loss for words. The man stared into the rising rage of your gaze, his own agitation reflected clearly. He was watching you intently, words dying on his lips, only inhaling and exhaling sharply. Had he been a few inches closer, his huffed anger would have fanned your face, truly taste how he felt about this entire situation.

But that was the last thing you wanted, and so you could only match his displeasure. 

“I’m not losing my job because of you,” you warned.

His eyes darted all over your face before he deigned to reply to you. “And you think I want to be fired?”

The quirk of your mouth upwards had his nostrils flaring. “If you act like an asshole, Seungkwan, that’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Why do you get to be the judge of that?” he scoffed out.

“I won’t. Jeonghan will see through you soon enough.”

Oh, he was seething underneath that mask of irritation. If you had been any weaker, you would have crumbled under such a withering look. He did not have much to say anymore, thinking that knifing you with his glare would be enough to win this argument. Because he had you as an opponent, it was no easy feat—the two of you said nothing again, staring and staring with mouths parted, almost waiting for an insult to rise from their throats and strike any second. 

Something might have struck—would have occurred under the flickering lights of the dessert station. Perhaps Seungkwan would have said something to make you succumb to your aggravation. Maybe you would have finally killed him. 

“Already at each other’s throats?”

You and Seungkwan whirled your heads to the voice.

There stood Jeonghan, tapping his foot against the floor, arms crossed as he observed you two. “Standing this close, well…either you’re about to claw each other’s faces off or make out.”

The latter option had you and Seungkwan breaking out of your rageful bubble, repelling from each other like magnets of the same sides. The boy exhaled sharply through his nose, while you swiped up your notes, not even sparing your Head Chef with a glare. “You’re horrid.”

Seungkwan snorted. “I think I’d rather get punched.”

You directed that sour look back at the man who deserved it more. “You’ll have it coming if you keep at it.”

“If you both have wasted enough time fighting,” Jeonghan interjected, always the mediator, “Then let’s get on with it. I wanna hear your initial plans.”

“_____ will summarise,” The younger replied, before you could even begin. “I have to go in a minute.”

You made a face. “Where’re you running off to?”

He returned it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have to pick up my niece and nephew from school. They have a half-day today.”

You could have rolled your eyes at him. “Is this allowed, Chef?” you demanded. “Something as important as the Christmas menu is being discussed, and he’s doing school duty.”

But Jeonghan overlooked your valid concerns, countering, “It’s all good, _____. Seungkwan asked for the half-day a week earlier.”

The said-man handed his notes to the superior. He could not help remarking, “Perhaps if you had bothered to be on time, then we could have fought out another dessert.”

As he exited, bidding his adieus to him, you reined in the temptation to stick his middle finger out. After all, it would have only landed behind his back—the bastard deserved to see it. 

Your boss clicked his tongue at you as he walked over to where you stood. “Good to see you didn’t flip him off in front of me. At least you’re thirty percent professional.”

“Why did you give him the half-day?” This time, you could not restrain the eye-roll. “Sometimes I think he’s making those kids up.”

“_____!” He scolded, bringing Seungkwan’s notepad back on the surface. “I’ve met his niece and nephew, they’re very much real.”

“Or you could be in on the bit,” you jeered, leaning against the countertop. “Trying to piss me off on purpose.”

“Your self-importance astounds me. Not everyone is thinking about you.” A knowing look. “Even the man you happen to hate so much.”

“Well I hope he keeps my name out of his mouth. And his mind, for that matter,” you added for good measure, observing the very door the man departed from. 

Jeonghan followed your line of sight. “You seem to have a hard time keeping his name out of your mouth though.”

Your accused mouth tightened at its allegations. “Are you on my side or his?”

He raised his hands in surrender, a grin breaking free from his lips. “Don’t drag me into your petty rivalry.” Pointing towards your notes, he then changed the subject. “Now, tell me about your rough plans.”

You obliged your boss, running down your initial prospects. He seemed satisfied enough, informing you that he will ask Seungkwan as well, and reminded you to prepare for the early customers.

As you prepared yourself for the open doors, prepping your ingredients alongside the Prep Cook, your thoughts wandered to the man who escaped this menial work, and then the eventual rush.

You and Seungkwan would not be able to create this dessert. Meeting in the middle would be impossible with someone as stubborn as him. Of course you wished to be successful, because that meant Jeonghan would not throw you out into the cobblestones of Covent Garden. You wanted this to go well. 

A sharp breath exhaled from you. You could only hope that Seungkwan hoped the same, or else you would both are completely, utterly, inescapably fucked. 

“HO HO HO!” 

A sigh involuntarily escaped you. “One more ‘ho ho ho’ and I’m shooting myself in the head.”

“Hey!” The slender girl exclaimed, fixing her Santa hat upon her straight hair. “You know I need to perfect it for today.”

You looked beyond her figure to the shop, lit up with seasonal outfits on display. “You’re gonna get the role anyway, Julie, because no one else will be auditioning.”

The girl tried to push you in punishment, you narrowly dodging her dainty hand. “Go back to slaving away at Jeonghan’s restaurant.”

A mocked gasp left you. “Are you telling me to get back in the kitchen?”

“Yeah, so step on it!”

“I’m supporting you, though!” You reasoned. “There is no one in London who can pull off Santa Claus better than you.”

“And what about the world?”

You mocked a shrug. “There’s too many old white men to compete for that title, I fear.”

“See?” She clicked her tongue. “A real friend would lie to me and say I’m the best.”

Shaking your head at her antics, you could not help smiling at her. Julie Han was a fiery girl you had befriended in school, bonding over your terrible teachers in one after-school detention. Your paths had never strayed, establishing each other as flatmates when the two of you decided to pursue careers in the big city. Where you pursued luxury food, she sought after theatre and cameras, deciding to be an actress when she landed herself the role of ‘Juliet’ in Romeo and Juliet in primary school, and considered it destiny (she, however, did not have chemistry with her Romeo, because he kissed her like a ‘fish’. In her words, men who cannot kiss should not be romancing other actresses).

“I don’t get the Santa Claus obsession, though,” you wondered out loud. “There are other ways to help kids out.”

“I know, but it’s Christmas!” She waved her arms to the air, gesturing at the winter-themed fairy lights on the mall ceilings, twinkling with every ray of light that caught them. “It’s also adorable when the kids ask you for presents.”

“I think it’ll be cuter with a female Claus, too,” you pointed out. “I wouldn’t put my kid on any old man’s lap.”

“Exactly!” There was a moment of brief pause before Julie relented. “Also, the mall employees get a 50 percent discount on retail.”

“I knew your ass wasn’t feeling the Christmas charity spirit.”

The girl chuckled, looping her arm around yours. “Thank you for coming with me. It means a lot.”

“Of course!” You returned her grin with a mischievous smile. “I wasn’t gonna miss you screaming ‘Ho Ho Ho’ at every kid in M&S.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, but could not contain her laughter. “Hey, weren’t you supposed to work today?”

That made your cheerful expression falter a little. “I was, but Seungkwan took the full day off today, so Jeonghan used it as an excuse to trial out the apprentices.” 

“You know, I still need to meet this guy,” she said, glancing at the street food booths in the middle of the halls. “He’s the only man I know who genuinely makes you go batshit.”

“Don’t get me started again.” You rolled your eyes. “You know, he took his day off for his niece and nephew again. I’m telling you, he’s making these fucking kids up.”

Julie’s face twisted into concern. “Making up fake kids for a holiday is a little far-fetched, _____.”

“Keep giving people the benefit of the doubt, then,” you crowed at her, “I'm just gonna pretend you're method acting for Santa."

But she was persistent, asking, “When will you let me spread the Christmas charity to your nemesis?” 

“Never, if I can help it.” You twisted your mouth. “I’m saving you the headache.”

“Why the headache?” Julie then gasped. “Is he ugly?”

You scoffed, looking ahead to respond when you stopped dead in your tracks.

Your friend, arm locked with yours, lurched backwards, whirling her head to you. Catching your expression had her demanding, “What the hell?”

But you were not listening to her, because your eyes landed on the very man you were bad-mouthing mere seconds ago. It was insanity how you recognised him, when his face was half-hidden from his signature oversized scarf—the three-metres of red fabric which always irritated you for some irrational reason (possibly because you were always cold, and the stupid, awful scarf always seemed so warm). His black trench-coat covered his slender figure, his hair ruffled, the after-effects of a beanie situated upon them.

Those details were still not important—completely useless when the most prominent addition was a woman beside him, laughing at his quip.

Shit. You did not waste any time.

“_____?” your friend called out, only to be met with your sudden turn on your heel, as, with her ungracious yelp, you hauled her inside the nearest shop, nearly crashing into the mannequins. “Jeez, if you wanted to go inside Zara so badly, then you should have just said!” 

As you hid behind the retail giant’s new winter collection, you observed, a little further away, the two people strolling without a care in the world. You noticed how the man was carrying all the shopping—stores from high-street to designer, which had your eyebrow raising—whilst the woman was pointing towards different stores, perhaps scour all of Westfield if she could help it. 

A frown marred your lips. 

Seungkwan said he was assisting his child-aged niece and nephew—you did not remember said-niece and nephew being one adult woman. 

“He’s on a fucking date,” you seethed.

Julie, now hiding beside you, tried to find whoever it was that you were glaring at. “Who’s on a date?”

“Seungkwan!” you exclaimed, pointing at him through the mannequin’s arm. “The prick with the red scarf.” But he and his company had walked past Zara, nearly leaving your field of vision. “Wait, we gotta move.” 

The poor girl, who was once again hauled up, and now being led out of the store, tugged at your arm. “What are we doing?” she asked. “Why are you still talking about him?”

“Because he’s there!” You jerked your head towards him and his lady-friend. “Look!”

A sharp breath drew from your friend. “Oh my God! Speak of the dessert devil, huh?”

“Exactly! So we’re following him.”

That had Julie stopping the chase, thus stopping you. “Why the hell are we doing that?”

“To catch him out on his terrible excuse!” you explained, tutting at your friend’s inability to understand the drastic nature of this situation. “I need to see the look on his face when I catch him making the rounds on H&M’s winter collection.”

For some unimaginable reason, the girl did not seem so enthusiastic. “My interview’s in thirty minutes, _____.”

You scrambled for any lame excuse. “This will distract you from your interview nerves!” 

“I haven’t gotten any interview nerves.”

“Well, you should because your voice cannot go ‘Santa Claus’ deep.”

Julie nudged you with her interlocked arm, shaking her head. “Now I’m scared, so fuck you.”

“You're very welcome.” You ticked your head towards your target. “Let’s go.”

As you two began your possibly illegal, certainly socially unacceptable activity, a certain rush thrummed within your veins, as if you had taken something for the exhilaration. Seeing your colleague declare one thing to you, yet do something entirely different—and then to witness it with your own eyes—felt like a scene out of a ridiculous rom-com. He was taking this girl everywhere, offering his opinions on certain collections on display in whatever shop they passed, loud enough for you to hear. Of course, it was expected from someone as opinionated as him—you were not surprised in the slightest. 

“All the time in the world for his kids, huh?” you muttered, sporting a grin which would have had criminals running for the hills.

Even Julie was spooked. “You really are rooting for his downfall, huh?” 

“You have no idea.”

The two people you tailed went inside the White Tiger, and it was at this point as, when you made to enter the strange shop, you were stopped by your friend. “I’m gonna leave you here.” 

“What?” You tugged on her arm. “You still have fifteen minutes.”

She sighed. “If I tank in my audition, just know I’m going to your restaurant and telling this Seungkwan that you had a wet dream about him.”

Your mouth dropped open. “That’s diabolical.” 

Her growing smirk had you widening your eyes. “I’ll do you an even better one. If you don’t let me leave I’m calling Seungkwan here and telling him we were stalking him.”

That had your blood running cold. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You don’t think so?” She turned her face forwards, shit-eating expression furthering. 

She then parted her mouth, making your heart stop. 

“Seungkwan!” 

“What the—” You instantly grabbed her arm, aiming to cover her mouth when she waved off your hands, her grin chilling you to your bones. “Oh my fucking God—!”

“Hey, Seungkwan!” Julie shouted once more, louder this time. You knifed her with a vicious glare, but then she waved her hand, and you whirled your head to where she greeted.

Your face contorted in pure horror as you watched Seungkwan look over his shoulder, slowly turning himself. 

What you did next was completely out of your control. 

It was your legs that suddenly held the reins, dashing into the shop beside your friend, hiding behind the racks of clothing. Your heart beat as if you had run an Olympic sprint, pounding in your ears, and your mouth repeatedly cursed the girl who had instigated all this, praying she embarrassed herself in her audition—perhaps screaming Whore, whore, whore! instead of the classic jingle. You did not think of the logistics, too enraged and embarrassed to think up a solution.

Despite the chaos of customers shopping, the swishing of clothing amongst the racks, and the robotic beeping of cash registers, you peeked through the burgundy cardigans you hid behind, catching the very man you wished to avoid walking up to your friend. 

His voice could be heard from your makeshift sanctuary, clearly confused. “I’m sorry, did you call for me?”

Julie kept glancing at the shop you hid in. She tried her hardest to restrain her smile as she said, “I did, actually! This is so weird, but my name’s Julie. _____’s friend.”

You could not mistake it—the realisation striking in his eyes, as they widened, ever so slightly. His mouth parted, then the corners of his lips curled upwards, and suddenly you could have been made of dread and anguish and every fearful emotion a person was capable of feeling. 

Seungkwan was going to eat you alive. 

“_____?” He repeated, and the amusement that dripped off your name had you wishing all men perished. “Oh, it’s always a pleasure to see a friend of _____’s.”

He raised his hand out, and Julie reciprocated, shaking it thoroughly. “I wouldn’t have expected an answer like that from you, actually.”

“Is that so?” the man quirked his mouth in a side-smile, all mischief and whimsical. “Maybe I’m fixing my manners for a pretty girl, then.”

“Oh!” she brought a hand to her chest, her smiling losing all mischief, turning more genuine. “She didn’t tell me you were such a charmer.”

You had to bring a hand to your mouth, aghast. The bitch is being fooled! “I’m not surprised by that in the slightest.” He let out an uneasy chuckle. “I hope you don’t believe the impression she’s made of me.”

“I’ll try not to be swayed,” she promised, sneaking another glance at your hiding place. Although she had not caught your eye, you glared at her for being so obvious. “Though I will admit, I haven’t heard great things.” 

“I’d be shocked if I heard anything positive,” he remarked. “_____, she…” He tugged his lip between his teeth. “I won’t say it cause she’s your friend but…”

“Yeah, nothing too crazy, please,” she warned, “Because then I’d have to tell her, she’d go all ballistic on you, and then she’d complain to me. I can’t deal with this soap opera.” 

“Soap opera?” he said, scoffing. “God, I can’t even complain, it’s EastEnders everyday in that damned kitchen.”

Julie laughed. “Now I know my friend loves a bit of drama, but surely she’s not the one in the wrong every time?” 

But Seungkwan tilted his head, squinting his eyes as if considering a completely different opinion. “And yet she’s the one throwing food in my face.” 

That had your friend glancing at you through the shop window, a second-long judgement. You glared at her to turn away, she obliging with a shake of her head. “Well…I suppose I can’t defend her against that.” 

His winning smile irked you to the bone. “Exactly.” 

You knew from Julie’s sheepish scratch of her neck that there was no convincing him, and had unintentionally proved his point. A soft groan escaped you, about to hold your head in your hands. Must bully her about this later.

The need to torture her for the rest of her miserable, Santa-adoring life worsened when he looked beyond her frame, a questioning twist of his mouth forming. “Am I crazy, or was _____ here with you?”

The girl’s helpless, a million-emotions-a-second expression once again exposed the guilt Seungkwan waited patiently for, and latched onto. “Huh. So I’m not crazy.” 

“She just left,” Julie explained, looking down at her boots. “She had the whole dessert thing to think up, prepare for…you know, the reason you guys are yelling at each other.”  

“Such dedication to her work!” he praised, but even she could recognise the patronising tone, directed at you from afar. If he had caught onto the fact that you were hiding from him, you might as well throw yourself off the highest floor in this mall. 

The condescension had the girl ticking her head. “She is, though. Why else would she be fighting for her preferences?” 

Seungkwan stared at your friend, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I guess you’re right,” he relented, which had you frowning behind the clothing. Given up so easily? 

You could not ponder over it further, because the man looked over his shoulder, no doubt realising he had left his mysterious companion behind. “You must excuse me, Julie,” he said, “But it was really good to meet you, truly.” 

He held his hand out, which, surprised, your friend shook, lightening up. “You too, Seungkwan.”

As he let go, turning on his heel, you just managed to catch the smirk on his face, hidden from Julie. “You tell your friend I said I missed her here.”

And off he went, catching her off-guard, and kickstarting your irritation as he strolled back to his date. 

Once you were sure he was out of your distance, you stood, avoiding the flurry of winter clothing, keeping your head down in slight shame at knowing quite a few shoppers had seen you hiding out behind the railings. Another unprecedented consequence of knowing Seungkwan.

Quickly you hurried to your friend, who turned to you, pointing her thumb in his direction. “Oh my God.” 

“‘She had this whole dessert thing to prepare for’?” you greeted, hands on your hips. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d realise you were here!” She kept a finger to her chin, thinking over possible escapes. “I mean, I don’t think he saw you in Zara? You hid better than I thought, honestly.” 

“Shit.” You brought your fingers to your temple, scraping against your skin. “And why did he agree with you on me being dedicated?! Fake-ass.” 

Julie then raised a brow. “You’re overthinking it. I am right. Him being passionate about his work doesn’t change the fact that you’re dedicated to it too.” 

You could only grunt in agreement, glancing back to see him a mere speck amongst the sea of Christmas shoppers. 

Although it was a fool’s hope, you wished that he would not bring up this incident tomorrow. 

THE MOMENT YOU STEPPED INTO THE KITCHENS, HE WAS WAITING FOR YOU. 

Not that you were afraid of him—at the end of the day, he was just a man with a small apron and a bad attitude, and you were not letting him get the better of you. 

Except your heart was pounding like an echoing gong, hair standing on the back of your neck. Even your palms were sweating, you flexing and unflexing your hands in distraction. Seungkwan was behind the large commercial hob, cooking something in a pot when he looked over his shoulder, beholding your unnerved presence. 

For the first time since he started working alongside you, he offered you a smile. 

You could have taken the pot and flung the contents on his head. 

“Good morning, _____!” he chirped, the smile widening when you instantly gritted your teeth. “Well rested?”

“Morning,” you replied curtly, tying your apron behind your back. “And yes.”

“Very good,” he asserted, mixing the contents of the pot. He wasted no time in the next question. “How was your weekend?” 

“Alright.”

“Oh, was it? Go anywhere?”

Shit. “Shopping.”

“What a coincidence!” he exclaimed, as if you had revealed the secrets of the universe to him.”I went shopping too.”

“So does everyone and their mothers on the weekend, Seungkwan,” you monotoned, hoping he would take the hint.

He took the hint, of course, but chose to disregard it completely. “My weekend was excellent,” he insisted, tapping the wooden spoon against the pot’s rim, draining out the residue. Making caramel, then. “I went to Westfield yesterday. Very fun, I’ll say.”

I bet it was, prick. “Is that so?” 

“It was so,” he parroted, like the bastard he was. “I actually happened to meet your friend there!” 

Your sigh could have had a laugh rasping out of him. “Which one?” you merely asked, feigning innocence still. 

A snort. “Don’t pretend you have more than one friend, _____.” 

Ouch. “Don’t pretend to know everything about me,” you huffed. 

“Fair enough. I happened to meet Julie.” Satisfied with the slow melting of the sugar and butter, he finally focused on you, leaning against the hob. “Lovely girl, by the way.”

“I know.” You shot him a look. “So?”

“She told me that you were with her this entire time!” 

It took every atom of your strength to not react to that statement. “I was.” 

“Then tell me…” He made to walk towards you, the only boundary between you two being the huge island tabletops. “How come I was so unlucky to miss you yesterday?”

You clenched your jaw. “I left before she saw you.” 

“Left?” he inquired, hand resting on the countertop. “You see, I remember it more as running away the moment she called after me.”

A Jesus Christ slipped out of you before you could help yourself. Instantly you repelled from his walking figure, hurrying to check the sizzling which had increased. The sauce was forming. “What’d you need this for?”

“Caramel Budino. Don’t dodge the question.” You could feel his gaze on you. “Why did you run away from me?”

You took the spoon set on the side, stirring. “I didn’t run away.”

“Yes you did,” he countered immediately. “I saw you bolt into Zara as if they had a closing down sale.”

“Maybe I was excited about their Black Friday deals,” you asserted, sparing him an irritated glance.

His accusatory stare had you looking back at the pot. “Don’t bullshit with me, _____,” He finally stepped past the countertop. “My God. You were stalking me, weren’t you? You and your friend?”

“What—no!” you denounced. “How can you think that?”

He was not four feet from you now. You tried not to look at him; somehow, in the most bothersome of ways, his eyes were unnerving you—as if you had committed some crime, and were now caught red-handed fleeing the scene. Well, you were caught fleeing the scene, but you thought you had escaped the consequences. 

But you had not escaped shit, and now you had to shrink under this bastard’s malicious, victorious scrutiny. 

“Then why did you run away?” he asked you, all quiet. 

The strange hush of his voice had you blurting out an unexpected response. “Because I think you’re a bloody liar.” 

Finally, you mustered the strength to face him—his confusion had you continuing. “You took the day off yesterday, right? For your niece and nephew? Well I didn’t see these so-called nieces and nephews, but a woman I had never met, or seen, even!” You then scoffed. “I was lucky to catch you red-handed, actually, because I was going to work the closing shift!” 

As Seungkwan took in your sudden accusation, craning his head back the further your words attempted to strike true to his pride, he found himself trying to contain a smile. His self-respect was completely intact from your attacks—the more you spoke, the more he was abashed, not quite believing what he heard from your mouth.

He caught onto what you considered the most irrelevant detail from your outburst. “You…you thought I was on a date?”

“Yes!” you snapped. “And you lied about it!”

But he began to chuckle, and you swore you could have seen red. “Why would I be lying?” he merely asked, hand on his white-cottoned chest. 

“To—” but then you stopped yourself. Not everyone is thinking about you. Even the man you happen to hate so much. You pursed your lips, Jeonghan’s words striking your mouth shut. 

Seungkwan, of course, would not let you keep him in such suspense. “To what?” he demanded, lips parted. “The one time I don’t want you to shut up, and you go mute on me!”

That was enough for you to explode. “To get out of working with me!” 

That had him jerking his head back. He squinted his eyes slightly, genuinely stunned, and you knew then and there that you had assumed completely wrong. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Jesus Christ, _____,” he began, and the beginnings of his god-awful, self-pleasing laugh was back, aching your ears and flustering your attitude. “You thought…you thought I was avoiding you? Like, some kind of bullied victim?”

You instantly rebuked him, stammering, “W-well, that’s not what I meant—”

“You really are self-centred, aren’t you?” he mocked. “You believe that all you want, sweetheart, but you don’t scare me like that.” 

“I didn’t mean scared, asshole,” you sneered. “I meant hate.”

He put a hand to his hip, leaning against the hob. “Hate?”

“Yes, hate!” you clarified sarcastically, but you did not know why you began to sound absurd. Suddenly, you were the child, and he was the adult playing along to your antics. “Isn’t that what this all is?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he dared another step towards you. The shuffling of his clothes against the countertop were the only sounds in the room—that, and the sizzling of the caramel. “Do you…do you really hate me?”

Your brain screamed at you to step away from him. Who was he to come this close to you? Who was he to ask you questions that were meant to stay unanswered?

He seemed hell-bent, however, to break unspoken rules. “I asked you a question, _____. Do you truly hate me?”

Although his mouth twisted in a hard smile, almost condescending, his eyes revealed a completely different sentiment. It was strange, so incredibly unsettling, that you knew the difference between what his words spoke, and what his face exposed. You were not meant to understand him like that.

But you did, and that scared you. 

“Do you?” you muttered, barely audible. If he was not so close, he would not have heard you. 

His gaze flickered all over your face. Your inquisitive eyes, your flared nostrils, your mouth, now parted, inhaling, exhaling. His own lips broke, you catching the grit in his teeth, as if mulling over the options—as if there were options to consider. 

Your breath shuddered. “Seungkwan?”

He was not answering you, still staring. What was on your face that fascinated him to this extent? You were not so sure, but still, he did not say a word, merely choosing to relish in your agitated features. Your skin thrummed at his stare, the close proximity of his body. Why was it so hot? 

The air around you, that is—not his body. Not that you were thinking of it—the forearms that were exposed from rolling his sleeves, the sliver of his collarbone from two buttons undone at the top of his shirt. 

“Yes?”

Back on his face—his mouth. "I, uh…" you got out, trying to remember how to speak. "I asked you something.” What was the blasted question again?

A slight, minute dip of his head. “I know.” 

He had to stop. What you should have done was leave the room—cease this madness. 

You only prolonged it. “Do you hate me?”

Another silence, and you were going to die. Collapse in this goddamn kitchen, and this creature of a man would be your only witness. 

He then ghosted the slightest smile on his lips, and you hung onto its movement. “I would have loved to…” 

He dared a little closer—any more and he would brush your mouth. “But then I realised you don’t.” Your change in expression had his ghost-like smile sparking to life. “So I can’t either.”

You did not know why the answer pissed you off. “How can you be sure of that?” you seethed. “I can hate you as much as I want.”

“Hmm, no, you can’t.” His eyes were not boring into yours—only at your mouth, too damn close. “Because you don’t know me well enough to hate me.”

You tilted your head back, enough to gauge—or at least attempt to figure out the undecipherable expression on his face. This close, you understood why the customers stared at him, even double-taken at every peek they could manage through the kitchen windows.  

The man was a little beautiful this close, and this realisation haunted you. 

Your mouth tried to release something, a refusal to his claim, but any counter died on your tongue. How well did you really know him? Sure, you were certain that he was a pain in your arse, but what of the man behind the sordid comments, the constant judgement? How much did you know of the man outside of the boundaries of Vita di Diamante? Hell, your lack of information had you second-guessing whether he even was lying about the kids.

(Though you refused, even now, to give him the benefit of the doubt. For all we know, the kids are either a long-running joke, or Seungkwan’s demons).

Despite all that, his truth was inescapable—solid and present and impossible to deny. You despised him for the entirety of your acquaintance, but did not even bother to know your supposed nemesis. 

Somehow, even after yesterday’s shitshow, this realisation was far more embarrassing than anything you had ever experienced. 

The supposed nemesis watched you discover these revelations, the corners of his lips curling upwards. It was so awful how he understood perfectly, and was now basking in this victory. 

The realisation stunned you so intently you did not grasp the screech-like crackling right next to you. Once the smell of the burnt caramel engulfed your nose, you blinked back, turning to the pot which now looked like brown, volcanic magma after it loses its colour. Instantly you turned the switch off, turning on the exhaust, the smell of the burnt sugar, after realising its presence, now making you ill. Seungkwan only watched you fumble at the stove, finally taking a step back. With that, you were able to breathe. 

Your ammunition was ready. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” 

He took it surprisingly well. “I’ll clean it,” he said, taking the pot and setting it to the side. “It is my fault, after all.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “You’re taking responsibility for your actions?”

A glimpse towards you. “I told you, didn’t I? You don’t know me.”

That had you shutting up immediately. 

Seungkwan looked at the clock, realising that the restaurant was about to open. Then his eyes settled on you. “I still can’t believe you stalked me.”

You made a face. “That was not stalking. Well, not the scary kind,” you clarified, which did not make your case any stronger. “And anyway, you still haven’t denied the whole date thing, which means you were lying.” 

Dusting away at his apron, he made to walk to the backdoor, about to call for Mingyu to help with ingredient preparation. You thought he was going to outright ignore you, but then he faced you, a certain smile on his face that you could not unravel.

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

And he was off, leaving you even more baffled than you were the first time you accused him. 

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED AT THE RESTAURANT, AND YOU WERE GOBSMACKED TO SEE A SEMBLANCE OF PROGRESS.

One would think that the strange incident in the kitchens would have been talked about further, but Seungkwan made no mention of it—and him making no mentions meant you would cut off your tongue and turn it into a French delicacy before talking about it either. 

Though you wish he had at least made one comment. 

Never before had you felt so…you did not know how to interpret it, but it was clearly something awful. The man had been an entity you had hated, but you wondered whether the emotion was rendered useless after such a heated conversation. It was so stupid, absolute insanity how you could not stop thinking about the proximity of his frame, his breaths fanning your lips, his questions that turned your entire opinion of him on its axis. 

You don’t know me well enough to hate me.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath.

Though you were cursing yourself, Seungkwan—who was beside you, experimenting on a particular chocolate pudding—took some offence. “What’re you mad about this time?”

Whirling your head to him, you were ready to give him a piece of your delirious mind when you caught the scene before you.

You were already aware he was creating a variation of the Bonet—chocolate, coffee, and rum, mixed and whipped to perfection alongside the core ingredients. He opted to swap the coffee for cinnamon, much to your exasperation. He had already heated his mixture in a not-burnt-to-a-crisp caramel sauce, cooked in a bain-marie—a process of melting chocolate-like mixtures under another pot of boiling water. 

His almost-dessert done, he only had the sprinkle of cacao powder to add to the final product, standing in perfect confidence in front of him. You admired the chocolate excellence, mouth already watering at seeing the soft, textured edges of the pudding. The amaretti macarons at the top contrasted the glaze of the darker chocolate, reflected the lights of the kitchen, and you had to stop your work for the customers, simply admiring the dessert your partner had created. 

Sometimes you forgot that Boo Seungkwan was a born chef. 

He was also a born pain in the ass. “If you can eye-fuck my Bonet, _____, then you can compliment it, too.”

Snapping out of the awe-filled haze, you twisted your mouth. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing you’ve made in this kitchen.”

“You’re right, actually, because the worst thing in this kitchen was made by your hands.”

Boo Seungkwan—the man who, despite your conflicting thoughts over last week, still managed to rile you into a frenzy. You could have cursed him outright, but this week’s apprentice, Wen Junhui, rushed into the room, bearing the role of Kitchen Porter. “There’s more orders for tiramisu!” He informed hurriedly, bringing a further three-dozen eggs upon the busied countertops. 

You looked up to the poor, clueless man. “You do realise you don’t have to take orders, right? That’s the waiter’s job.”

“Jun, here.” Seungkwan patted to the space next to him. “Help me whip some eggs.”

The apprentice obliging instantly, he began cracking eggs on the side of the bowl, setting himself to work. The man in charge with you focused once more on his creation, adorning a proud smirk as he brought out a long spoon next to him. “We should do a Bonet for the final dessert,” he suggested, cutting a small corner. 

“Of course you’ll say that now,” you said. “Oh, and just so you know, I’m never accepting it with cinnamon.”

You watched him raise the spoon, assuming he would take a bite. He then paused, flitting his gaze to you. 

He then changed direction, swinging the spoon ever so slightly—offering it to you. “Go on.”

You looked at it as if you had never seen a spoon before in your life. “You take a bite first,” he clarified. “I need to stamp out this anti-cinnamon agenda once and for all.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you challenged. Taking the spoon from him, avoiding his fingers, you observed the spongy portion before bringing the cutlery’s bowl to your mouth.

The moment the Bonet touched your tongue, it was chocolate heaven—chocolate bliss of the highest order, the cacao flavour merging along with the rum, sparking your senses to life. The most surprising factor was the dreaded cinnamon, spreading its infectious, sugary goodness along your taste buds. It was a small bite, but the chef had packed the sweet universe into a few millilitres, showing you a world where a life could be good and beautiful without any semblance of bitterness. 

Seungkwan watched your reaction, his smug smirk widening. Bringing the spoon out, you could not help the hum that escaped you, and it made him bite his lip, restraining his chuckles. “See?” 

Even still, you attempted to crush his spirits. “I hate it?” you offered, not even convincing yourself. 

The leash on him snapped, huffing out a round of laughter that had you setting the cutlery down. “I suppose you’ll not want another bite, then,” he said.

“Nope,” you lied. You found a clean spoon on the table, offering it to him. “You finish it off.”

The new offering was rejected. “Just give me yours.”

“But I used it.” A tilt of your head. “That doesn’t bother you?”

He jutted out his lip, shaking his head slightly. “Just more dishes to clean. A waste, no?” He gestured with his hand to beckon the old one back. “Pass the other one over.”

“Oh-kay,” you dragged out, handing over the original. With that, he scooped a bite from the Bonet, this time incorporating the little amaretti alongside. 

Your focus trained on him, you watched as he brought the bite to his mouth, his lips closing over the spoon. His reaction was more subdued—unsurprising since it was your first time trying his variation, but nonetheless satisfied as he hummed, closing his eyes. Your eyes took in the sight of him sliding out the spoon from his mouth, his tongue gliding over the silver to lap up the remnants of the chocolate, stubborn to remain. Your cheeks burned at the sight, almost as if you should not be watching. The moment he bit into the amaretti, the crunch against his teeth had you hitching in a breath, as if his mouth, his teeth, had grazed over your mouth, sunken into your skin. 

You blinked back. 

Seungkwan, who had finally opened his eyes, the sensations now subsided, caught your dazed out countenance. He knitted his brows. 

God, you were losing your mind. “Your slobbering was horrendous,” you mocked instead. 

He only shrugged, setting the spoon back on the table. “I don’t waste a thing,” he said, licking his lips—wiping any remnants of chocolate left.

You watched that too—his tongue, which now slid back into his mouth. Another rush of blinking, a sharp sigh, and you caught the ghost of a smile on him. “You should focus on the orders.”

Bastard. “Y-you focus on yours! Instead of wolfing them down!” you exclaimed pathetically. You shot up from where you leaned at the countertop, focusing on the three rounds of Tiramisus ordered. 

Hearing his chuckling behind you had you souring further, face akin to a bonfire, but your mood was soon distracted from the last-hour rush of orders. With Junhui helping the two of you, the round of desserts being created were more effortless, plates of every kind of pudding, gelatos and cakes and pastries leaving your kitchens. The final thirty minutes were more subdued, potential customers understanding that this was no longer the place to dine, and must find sustenance elsewhere. 

Once the time was out for the restaurant’s closure for the day, you thought to close up, already commencing to help the apprentice tidy away the remaining ingredients. Then Jeonghan entered the station, a new, clean apron wrapped around his out-of-work attire. He was set on Seungkwan, pointing towards him. “You,” he began, beckoning him over. “You got a special guest.” 

You narrowed your sight on the man, but his face instantly lit up. That only added to your confusion. Special guest? “Tell her to sit at the reserved table,” he only said, washing his hands off the flour and butter. “I’ll be right over.” 

Watching him rush his usual clean ups, even leaving out a few objects for dessert preparation, you walked up to him, hands on your hips. “Who’s this special guest?” you inquired, his back to you. 

Looking over his shoulder, he shook off the excess water from his hands. “You’ve seen her before.” 

“Huh?” you could only get out, but a moment of thinking had you sucking in a breath. “Wait, you brought your date here?!”

A scoff escaped him, shaking his head. “It’s about time you see the woman who’s bothering you so much.”

“What?!” You glanced at the long, open window of the restaurant layout, where you could spy the seating. “I can’t do that! You’re making this much weirder than it needs to be.” 

“Well, why not?” He stepped past you, grabbing hold of a tea towel. “And remind me, who stalked me for this very information?”

“That was—!” You attempted, but then quietened, realising you could not win that argument. “Piss off.” 

He huffed out a laugh at your response, jerking his head towards the entrance to the main hall. “Come on,” he merely said, walking towards the door. “You can weasel your way out of it to her.”

You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away from this entire situation—Seungkwan was exploiting his position to use the restaurant as his date-place, and you had managed to trap yourself into this precarious position. 

Despite that, you let your curiosity get to you—yes, it killed the cat, but you were different. Better than that stupid creature. 

Hesitantly, you followed behind as he left the kitchens, weaving his way around the dozens of tables. You caught sight of the mysterious woman, her back to you, but it was not her voice that greeted you first.

Two voices yelped out instead at seeing Seungkwan—voices which were shrilled, higher-pitched, as if they belonged to children. 

You stopped walking as the surprises revealed themselves. 

“Uncle Seungkwan!” 

Two young children—a boy and girl, no more than 11 years old—came running towards your colleague at full speed, nearly bumping against the furniture without a care in the world. You did not see his face, but he must have been smiling, because a delighted oh! escaped him, and his arms were out. He barely had time to raise them before the two kids collided against him, making him stumble back, balance shaky, and you instinctively took a step back, in case he bumped into you. Everyone was laughing in that strong hold, the man’s arms wrapped tightly around them, and your eyes softened without realising.

This was a different Seungkwan. A Seungkwan you had not witnessed—perhaps not been allowed to witness, possibly by your own accord. 

So engrossed by the heartwarming sight, you did not realise the initial woman you planned to see had gotten up from her seat, walking over to the group. “All of you hugging as if you didn’t meet two days ago,” she remarked, a hand on a nearby chair. 

“Don’t get mad because they like me more,” he crowed, glancing at her before ruffling the children’s hair. “Isn’t that right, kids?” 

“Yes!” they both exclaimed in agreement, causing the woman to shake her head. 

She then noticed you behind him, perking her head up. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she stepped past the group, a glance at him. “I didn’t realise you were there.”

That had you scratching the back of your neck—perhaps curiosity made points killing the cat, cause you felt the great urge to die on the spot. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m—” you cleared your throat, a slight suspicion about this whole situation rising in the crevices of your mind. 

Seungkwan chipped in for you, realising your mouth was not working. “This is _____. The partner,” he clarified, and you paused at seeing a knowing look on the woman’s face. “And this….”

He then looked at you. “This is Jinsoul. My sister.” 

Oh. Good. God. 

His introductions extended to the two children. “My very real niece and nephew, Sohyun and Sojung.” 

Your mouth parted at the comment, completely abashed. You were not given more time to ponder on his audacity, because his sister—God, his fucking sister, all this time— held her hand out, immediately greeting you with a smile. “It’s so good to meet you!” A glance at him. “I feel like I know you already.”

“Is that so?” you chuckled out, nerves now rising. 

“Of course!” She let go of your hand after a hearty shake. “Seungkwan talks about you all the time.”

The said-man gaped at her, instantly souring at the reveal before chiding, “Your antics have reached my family’s ears, yes.”

You would have glared at him if you were not still humiliated. “Then I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” you admitted.

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” She leaned on the chair. “I just assumed it was Seungkwan’s fault.”

The apparent culprit huffed. “If you wanna side with her so badly, she can make your free dinner.”

But the woman only shrugged, leading her children over to you. “Alright then. Nobody wanted your ass cinnamon rolls anyway.” 

“Hey!” Seungkwan twisted his lips into a frown. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

With their mother’s encouragement, the children waved their hands in introduction. “Nice to meet you!” the two chirped in almost-unison, the boy who said it a second too late looking away in embarrassment. You could not help waving back, smiling at them. 

Once done with that, she finally answered him. “I am, actually—” a glance down at her watch, inhaling through her teeth— “And am running late, shit.”

“And you said we couldn’t use that word,” the boy—Sojung—grumbled, fixing his beanie. 

“Well I’m a mother in a hurry, sweetie,” Jinsoul reasoned. She faced her brother. “We’ll try coming here, but if we run a little late, then you come ‘round, alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he only said, giving her a quick side-hug before waving her off with a flick of his hand. “Now go away.” 

“Alright, damn.” Pressing a kiss to her children’s cheeks, she offered you a beautiful smile—a striking similarity to her brother’s. “If these kids are being a bother, this big ass one included—” a shove towards him— “You let me know.”

You could not help it, returning her mirth. “I’ll steal his phone and call you.”

Her smile was positively mischievous. “I like you already.” 

With that, she bid her goodbyes one more time, you stunned from her little declaration—her words, and why that had your heart swelling. With Jinsoul leaving, you tried to focus back on the niece and nephew, who were not Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s running joke, but real and alive and in front of you. 

The former, who was watching your shock, snapped you out of it as he focused on the youngest. “Right, you two,” he began, pointing towards their seats, ”Tell me what you want.”

“What’re you making us this time?” Sojung asked, instantly settling himself down, already giddy at the prospect of food. 

“Don’t listen to Mum!” Sohyun chimed in, following after her brother, sitting on one knee as the other leg dangled over the seat. “We’ll have the cinnamon rolls.” 

“Seungkwan’s family and their cinnamon,” you murmured.

The family you mentioned, however, had razor-sharp hearing, and three heads turned to you. “What’s wrong with cinnamon?” the girl asked, 

“Don’t you worry about _____, here, sweetie,” the eldest mock-consoled, “She doesn’t like to have anything sweet.” 

“That’s not true,” you immediately said, but the kids caught onto their uncle’s words quicker than yours, and their shock had you almost embarrassed.

“No way!”

“How do you live your life?”

“Uncle Seungkwan, why didn’t you change her mind?” 

Their incessant questions only had you chuckling nervously—you were sure sweat was breaking out, and that only worsened when the man beside you thoroughly enjoyed you squirming. “Your uncle is exaggerating,” you could only offer them, but you could tell they were not satisfied with your answer.

“Leave it to me,” he only said, winking at the children, “I’ll sort her out soon enough.”

That had you looking at him unconvinced. “You’ve failed for the past year, so I don’t know what’s changing.”

The children began oooooh-ing at what they believed was an insanely sick burn towards their uncle, who scoffed in response. “You’ll find out,” he merely said, then turned his attention to those fanning the flames. “And what happened to backing me up unconditionally?” 

“We’ll support you when you give us some food,” Sojung reasoned, which had you chuckling. Negotiating for a luxury treat? You had to respect them. 

“Alright, alright,” Seungkwan conceded, about to turn on his heel. “You lot stay here, and I’ll whip something up.”

As you watched him begin to leave, you narrowed your eyes at the workspace, separated by the windowless-frame. You focused on the children, an idea hatching. “Hey, you guys wanna come inside?”

Perking up at you, their eyes danced at the prospect. “Could we actually?” Sohyun asked, darting her head between you and the man beside. “Wait, are we even allowed?”

Seungkwan pondered over it, as if genuinely thinking over the restrictions. “So what?” you said, smiling at them. “We’ll make it allowed.”

Your answer was all the children needed, excitement almost reverberating off them. You ushered them out of their seats, pointing them towards the kitchen entrance, and they dashed off before you could offer any general warnings, fighting to contain your smile. 

As Seungkwan watched, following after his niece and nephew, he took a cautionary glimpse at you. “If they break any health code violations, then you’re taking the sack.”

Walking right beside him, you opened the door to the station. “I’ll just say they’re your responsibility, and Jeonghan will finally have an excuse to fire you.”

But he was snickering softly at the claim, close at your heels as he stepped inside. It could have been the lowering of his voice, the slight octave down—perhaps the proximity again, which might have been purposeful on his part. 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he muttered, and you had to blame the chill from the open windows for the shivers down your neck. 

By the time you both entered, Sojung and Sohyun were already exploring the premises, marvelling at the professional equipment, the grandeur of the stainless steel. It was as if the stations were a long, forgotten historical site, and the children were archaeologists, brushes at the ready to inspect, marvelling at anything they had not seen before. The half-eaten Bonet latched onto their fancies, and they would have eaten the dessert with their bare hands had Seungkwan not tutted, pointing at the clean spoons on the countertop.

“I was expecting the kitchen to be really messy,” Sohyun commented, eyes straying from the pudding to observe the surroundings once more. “Wouldn’t it get so busy in here?”

“Super busy,” you admitted, “Especially during this time. Mind you, sometimes there’s no room around here, there’s so much ingredients to take care of.”

As he tried to find said-plethora-of-ingredients, Sojung said, “I bet you could have such a good food fight in here.” He glanced at the Bonet, and then at his sister. 

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, raising her cutlery as a legendary weapon. 

But you did not fixate on their conversation to the end, because the mention of the food fight had you glancing at the man who you had actually thrown food at. It was not as if it was that long ago—hell, Seungkwan would have only just rid himself off the mascarpone from his hair. 

You even remembered how it all began—the fateful incident which brought down Jeonghan’s wrath, and ultimately this dreaded assignment. It was like any other prep day for the restaurant, Mingyu helping alongside you two as you prepared the ingredients on the countertops, finalising the desserts which were to be offered that night. It had to be stressed—it was a completely normal day. 

Except Seungkwan had already sparked your irritation alive from the initial disagreements on the flavour variations of the Cassata Siciliana—a layered cake of sheep ricotta cheese, chocolate, candied fruit, all topped with marzipan. The blends of the cheese usually worked wonders, but the idiot suggested substituting the traditional ricotta for mascarpone, apparently enriching the dessert to its fullest extent. You knew his scheming was simply to have a sweeter grand dessert on the menu, but you refused to fall for his antics. You instantly rejected his attempts, and that only fuelled his anger, insisting that the specialised cream be used for the Cassata or he would refuse to add your additions. 

You did not know whether it was that warning, or the notion that he had no power to even say such a warning. Whatever the motivation, it was enough for you to ask him a simple question, hands straying to the ingredients. 

“You wanna know where mascarpone cream would look best?” 

Forever the fool, he asked, hoping his condescending nature would rile you up. 

And because you were a greater fool than he was, you only scooped the cream and flung it on his face, he yelping as it stuck to the perfect curls of his brown hair. Reeling back from the mess, he touched the remnants on his cheeks, his locks, gaping at it until he set his stare on you. 

It was then the chaos began. The pandemonium that followed, food flying everywhere in places you never thought it would reach, a pitiful waste of ingredients and emotions as the rest of the crew scrambled to mediate between the two of you. Even Jeonghan had difficulty at first, but one guttural roar had everyone pausing. Everything afterwards was history. 

Looking at him now, though, imagining the chaos of it all…it brought a strange fluttering within your chest. You did not think there was anyone else you could have thrown food at. 

With the way he returned your gaze, his usual sharp glower softened as the memory flashed within his own eyes. He could not help himself, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards the more he delved into it, the verbal lashings the two of you received afterwards.

It was there, in the kitchens, with the children stealing glances at the stillness of their guardians, the faint scent of cinnamon still in the air, that you smiled at Seungkwan without an ounce of ridicule laced in it.

His eyes widened. His slight surprise had you smiling a little wider, but before he could say anything, he was duly interrupted. “Uncle Seungkwan, when are we getting any food?” 

Sojung joined in. “Stop staring at Miss _____ here!” 

The accused immediately composed himself. “Jinsoul really needs to discipline you both…”

Fidgeting with your rolled-up sleeves, you resorted to helping your partner. “Right, you two,” you asserted, clapping your hands together, “What do you want?” 

Sohyun dug the toe of her boot further into the floor, all sheepish. “We were hoping Uncle Seungkwan would make us the usual.”

“The usual?” A side-glance at him. “Anything special?”

“I didn’t think so,” he admitted, a finger at his chin as he thought about his ingredients’ whereabouts. “They can’t have enough of it, though.” After another moment, he turned to the direction of the pantry. “Hey, there’s still vanilla gelato leftover right?”

Once you nodded, he was off, heading towards the other entrance, promising to come back within minutes. With the common man gone, you looked at the two children, whose curiosities still seemed unsatiated. 

You decided to question them first. “What’s your uncle making you?”

The boy answered before his sister even opened her mouth. “It’s so good! It’s what Uncle Seungkwan makes us every time we come here.” 

“All I know is that Sojung always makes Uncle Seungkwan add more ice cream than mine.”

“Now you’re just lying!” he rebuked, aching to push her off the countertop. “She always gets more biscuits in hers, so she can’t complain!”

You chuckled at their antics, speaking over them to settle their bickering. “Biscuits and ice cream is it?” 

“No, no, it’s like…” the girl imitated with her hands, describing the shape of an odd-looking mug. “You put ice cream first, then hot chocolate, and then Uncle Seungkwan adds more stuff I can’t remember.”

“It’s amazing,” Sojung promised, his face serious and persuasive, as if he was a politician promising a controversial policy. 

Impressed by his words, you, the hesitant voter, decided to believe him. “You’ve convinced me, little man.” You glanced over your shoulder—at the other entrance—before focusing on the boy, whispering, “Your Uncle Seungkwan does make a killer dessert.”

“Why’re you saying it like that?” Sohyun asked, matching your hushed tone. “Do you not like him?”

You contemplated the question. It was simple enough—they were not expecting a Tolstoy-saga timeline of your unstable partnership with their uncle. A couple of weeks ago, the answer would have been easier.

Situations, however, had changed—shifted indefinitely, throwing your viewpoint off its axis. You both were rivalling teams, always rooting for each other’s downfall, and now you both played for the same side, and it was…you did not know. Well, you did know, were very aware of how it felt, but it was something you could not voice out loud—not even to yourself.

So you merely said, “He’s alright…your Uncle Seungkwan,” and hoped to anything that resided above that it was enough.

It seemed so—then, Sojung, forever curious, thought to be more personal than his sister. “If you don’t like him, then who do you like?”

You were astounded by how nosy children were, but realised they were related to Seungkwan. Checks out. “I’m afraid I’m too busy working to have workplace crushes.”

As you made your declaration, you heard the man on a mission return, door swinging open with his foot as he held the ingredients. Walking over to the counter, he dumped the contents, you observing what he brought: a box of fresh vanilla gelato, a 4-pint carton of semi-skimmed milk, and a few small pots, labelled as almonds, hazelnuts, amarettis. 

“Is she telling the truth?” Sojung asked his uncle, you gasping at the notion. Since when did children require witness confirmation for your half-lies?

Seungkwan snorted as he brought out a pot from the side of the hob, setting the base upon the bottom right stove, sparking the flames to life. Without even looking back, he grabbed the milk carton, unscrewing the cap. “She’s lying to you guys,” he confirmed, pouring the contents inside. He set the half-empty container beside him, sparing you a mischievous glance. “She’s too busy arguing with me.”

“Hey!” The children began to laugh. “I only argue with him when he’s provoking me.”

Snickering knowingly, he walked to the metal cupboards settled in the corner, opening them up to procure three elongated glasses, small, circular handles on their sides, narrowing at the bottom. Setting them before his esteemed customers, he replied, “I’ll have you know, _____, you’re the one who starts most of our arguments.”

“Since when?” 

Usually, his stare would have been incredulous, unamused. This time, though, his eyes were dancing. “Did you know, kids,” he began, voice deepening as if regaling a fantasy tale, grabbing the tub of luxury hot chocolate powder, “That _____ and I had a real food fight here?”

“No way!” Sohyun gasped. “Did you guys get in trouble?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, sighing through his teeth as he poured two heaped teaspoons within each glass. “Our punishment was to work on a dessert together.”

“Uncle Jeonghan has a weird way of punishing someone,” the girl commented. 

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, Seungkwan also murmuring in agreement as he started the kettle, the water heating at lightning-speed and ready before you realised. Picking up the kettle from its base, he poured a little into each cup, mixing the powder within the water to rid himself of the textured cocoa forming. “Hot chocolate?” you inquired, watching his every movement—his setting the kettle back, all the while grabbing the milk off the stove, pouring three-quarters full of every glass, stirring simultaneously whilst he drained the pot off its boiling contents. 

This was second nature to him—he did not answer, engrossed in his work, because this was him in his element. He was a born creator, thriving in the atmosphere of nourishment. The scent of hot cocoa and vanilla, amplified when his nephew cracked open the container, delighted your senses, mouth watering at the notion of trying this beverage. 

The girl beside you responded for him as he set the empty pot to the side. “It’s more than hot chocolate,” she said, as she grabbed hold of a spoon, hoping to take a bite but stopped when her uncle shot her a disapproving look. “Please, just one bite!” 

“You and your brother won’t leave us with any when you’re done,” he scolded, holding out his hand. Caught red-handed, she begrudgingly gave him the spoon, which he put away, instead bringing out an ice cream scoop. Checking the open container, he brought the scoop down, the soft gelato curling luxuriously within the curve of the metal. He was generous with his serving, the gelato fighting to stay on the scoop as he dropped the first into the hot chocolate closest to him, quite low to avoid any chocolate spillage. He added another to the glass before repeating it several times for the other two cups, giving in to the children’s request for more in their serving. 

You realised the product was finished when, before Seungkwan could declare it himself, the kids yanked their cups further away from him, excitement radiating off their features. “Thank you, thank you!” they both chirped in harmony, instantly sipping on the hot chocolate and groaning in approval. 

The esteemed chef took hold of your glass by the handle, walking over to where you leaned forward at the counter. Straightening yourself, you judged the final product, him leaning back before it. “Voila,” he said, “Or whatever you call it in Italian.”

“It’s the same, actually.” You pulled the cup closer, admiring the chocolate-to-milk gradient, the vanilla ice cream slowly melting within the glass. “Not bad.”

He ticked his head to the side, furrowing his brows. “Um, I think you meant to say it looks exquisite.”

“What even is it?” You turned the glass around. 

Seungkwan watched you inspect the contents. “It’s, uh…it’s a drink I’ve always made for them, back in my apprentice days.” He brought a hand to his torso, smoothing down his apron. “I’m sure you’ve heard of it, but I changed it a little…made it more kid-friendly.”

“Kid-friendly?” A glance at him. “What the hell was the original drink?” 

He scoffed out a chuckle. “It’s nothing like what you’re thinking. The original beverage had liquid espresso, and I thought it’d be too bitter for them.”

“That’s fair.” Taking a spoon from the pile of cutlery, you began stirring the ice cream, melting it within the milky hot chocolate. Taking a sip, you slipped the spoon in your mouth and hummed. “Oh…woah.”

“Use your words, _____,” he merely said, earning a second-glare from you. You could not retain it though, instantly digging in.

“This is nice, actually,” you had to admit. Seeing the man try to bask in your half-assed compliment had you adding on, “But I will say, I would have liked the espresso. I know what you mean about the kid-friendliness of it all.”

“I can make it if you want.” He glanced at the equipment—the barista-standard machines, more portable coffee-machines, the like. “There’s a french press thrown in the cupboard somewhere.”

You looked at him, slightly disbelieving. “You just made me this.”

“So?” He shrugged, twisting his lips to the side. “It won’t be hard.” He took a step back, watching over the children. “You two want a snack or something?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Sohyun demanded, sipping the last of the drink. 

“I wonder where they got their attitude from,” he grumbled, grabbing their empty glasses and bringing them to the sink. 

You could not help your snort, scooping out half-melted ice cream. “I’m looking right at him.”

“I hope the hell you’re not looking at me right now,” was his warning, turning on the faucet and letting the hot water fill the dirtied glasses. 

He made sure you were not, but you were never one to follow orders. You watched him as he brought out a french press from the cupboards beside the machines. “This won’t make the best espresso, but I can’t be arsed to fire up the machines right now.”

“Wow, such high-class customer service!” you shrilled, slowly walking over to the fridges on the opposite side and opening the door, finding the airtight Bombe Calde doughnuts sitting daintily inside. Deciding to take all eight displayed, you closed the fridge, setting them before the table. 

The children jumped on the treats at once, Seungkwan tutting at their sheer gluttony. “You’re gonna get sick, and then your mum is gonna beat me up.”

“Noshewomt,” was the boy’s coherent answer, mouth too occupied with the chocolate doughnut to bother clarifying.  

Turning the kettle on once more, the man obtained the finely-ground coffee beans, adding a couple teaspoons within the french press and waiting for the water to boil. “Pass me one, will you?” he asked, and you decided to comply, taking one from the plate—noticing half of them have been wiped out—and holding it out to him. 

He held out his hand, fingers brushing against yours as he accepted the treat, your own hand still in the air between as he brought it to his mouth, taking a bite. You did not realise your fingers were still holding out the outline of the dessert until the switch on the kettle ticked off, snapping you out of your daze. Curling them into your palm, you set your hand to the side, sighing sharply. “You don’t have to make this.”

Luring the jug to the open press, he poured the water, the fine coffee instantly darkening the liquid. “You don’t want it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, watching him as he took the plunger, pressing the lid shut upon its glass and began pumping the water and coffee together. He was quick, up and down and repeating the gesture, creating a more bitter colour. “It’s not that…”

Finishing, he chose to not to respond then, only taking a new glass from the cupboard in front of him. “Sohyun, the gelato.”

His niece obliging, he deposited two scoops of the ice cream, one after the other. Then, assuming this was the final touch, he poured the espresso inside, assuring that the ice cream was drenched in the bitter flavour, until the french press was drained. 

Perhaps your partner was correct—the bitterness of the drink, even the mere scent of coffee in your nostrils had you exhaling in satisfaction. Seungkwan caught it, smiling a little in reaction. 

It was then he chose to respond. “I wanted to make it for you.”

“Oh.” You chose to admire the dessert-beverage he made—for you only, you thought. “Does it have a name?”

A nod. “It does.” You could feel his eyes on you. His fingers grazed the glass’ base, curling—close to where your own fingers wandered, nail scratching against the curves of the cup. “It’s called an affogato.”

You looked at him. “An affogato? I’ve had a few of these before.” Taking your spoon, you cut through the gelato, making sure you scooped enough of the espresso. Once you dared a taste, you instantly hummed, the bittersweet mixture of the ice cream and the coffee enlivening your taste buds. “Oh, Christ, this is the one.”

“I knew you would enjoy the original recipe,” Seungkwan remarked, watching you lap away at the dessert. “I will say, though, the french press doesn’t do the espresso justice.” 

“Yeah, you use the proper machines for it, right?” Another bite taken. “This is insane, though.” 

“You think so?” When you nodded, he dipped his head, acknowledging your approval. He blew air from his mouth, a deep sigh which had you tilting your head. “I used to make it a lot, back in the day.” 

“Your apprentice days?” you parrotted, just as he did earlier. 

He only squinted his eyes, an effort to keep your teasing in check, but found himself chuckling. “Yeah, back in Jeju. My dad loved to make them…he, like, would always add different flavoured ice creams in the espresso, maybe add hot chocolate if I wasn’t feeling too good with coffee…”

“Your dad made you these?” You sipped on the drink, careful of the ice cream. “That’s really sweet.”

“I know.” Taking a bite out of the bambe calde, he continued, “Yeah, he’s really supportive. My mum, too, but it took some time for her to accept that I wasn’t gonna be a doctor.”

“You’re better off for sure,” you remarked, stirring the contents. “Imagine your ass trying to do surgery on someone…you’d get the hospital sued.”

“First of all, fuck you,” he started, but quickly stopped when his niece and nephew gasped at the curse. “Sorry, sorry! I promise she doesn’t mind.”

“Don’t say sorry to us, too, say it to _____!” Sojung ordered.

“You’re being mean, Uncle Seungkwan,” Sohyun huffed next.

“Yeah, Uncle Seungkwan,” you chimed in, earning a berating glower from him. “You’re being rude.” 

“Well I’m so sorry, _____,” the man chirped, and you had to keep drinking to stop yourself from laughing. “Now, you two, get back to stuffing your faces.” 

As the kids happily obliged, you released a satisfied exhale as you finished off the espresso, half-melted ice cream left in the glass. “I still mean it. You would have been worse off as a doctor.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. I’ll kill off my patients because I wouldn’t know the difference between a scalpel and a butter knife.” 

“No, not like that.” You turned to him. “Seungkwan, you were meant to create desserts.”

He looked at you then, not quite believing his ears. “Do you really believe that?” 

“Of course.” Your eyes flickered to the remnants of the affogato. “There’s a reason Jeonghan kept you…hell, there’s a reason I still haven’t managed to get rid of you.”

There was a pause, felt enough that you snuck a quick glance as you watched over the conversing children. 

“Do you want to?” he asked. Your gaze stuck, and he furrowed his brows, clarifying, “Get rid of me, still?”

He looked at you, and you found yourself a little lost in his eyes. There was one certainty you could rely on, and that was his gaze—whatever he felt, he always exposed it, whether he wanted to or not.

Tonight was different. Tonight, with the children nearby, you still stirring the melted gelato, you could not comprehend them. What his eyes offered this time was tenderness—a certain warmth you had never been offered by him since…since ever. Since as long as you had known him. 

So you held up the cup, finishing the rest of the dessert—the dessert he had made with his own hands.

You decided to say something else instead of answering his question—something better. “I think we’ve found our dessert, Seungkwan.”

The man’s warmth morphed with confusion. “The affogato,” you said, holding out the glass. “We should make it for our Christmas menu.” His stance had you carrying on, setting the cup to the side as you focused on him. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out. You said it yourself, you can make this with various flavours right?” His nod had you continuing, “And obviously, we’ve seen that you can change around the drink bit, too.”

“Hmm…” That had him thinking, and you could see it, the cogs within his head turning at rapid speed. “Wait, you know what…my dad also added liqueurs in the drink, which gave a little fire to the dessert. I liked it a lot, but obviously you can’t give hard alcohol to kids, so…”

“Very responsible,” you deemed it. “And it’s so easy to make! I mean, you whipped it up within minutes for me.” 

He was straightened up now, watching you intently as you thought about it further, the entire prospect of it. “It could be quicker, too, you know. The french press takes more time, but if we made it on the machine, then—” He cut himself off, thinking and thinking, walking towards the countertop. “Wait, this could actually work.” 

“What can work, Uncle Seungkwan?” his nephew asked, curiosity prompting his question. 

“Something really special, Sojung,” he replied, scouring the table for his notes, but realising he left them at the changing lockers. “Shit. Shit.”

“Language!” Sohyun chided, but her dear uncle wasn’t really listening, whipping out his phone and typing ferociously.

You did not realise what he was doing until he pressed the phone to his ear, pointing at the kids to wash their hands. “Hello? Yeah, Jinsoul, hi, you guys back from the date?” A pause, as he started a pace, back and forth in the kitchen. “Hmm, yeah, don’t care about all those details, listen—” He turned a sharp corner, finding the words, “Is it alright if I could drop the kids back right now? Something urgent came up.”

As he listened to his sister, his eyes flickered to you. “Yeah…it is. We thought of something perfect.” 

You avoided his gaze then—a cowardly choice, you knew—but, perhaps for the first time, his stare was a little too intense. “Yeah, don’t worry about that, I’ll do it,” he said, “I owe you. For real this time.”

As the man ended the call, the nephew pulled a face. “Do we have to go back already?” he whined, licking the sugar from his fingers. 

“Afraid so, buddy,” was his response, pocketing his phone. “Come on, you two, I gotta take you back to your parents.”

“But what about _____?” Sohyun asked, watching you intently as you began to clear away the dishes. 

“I’ll get going, too,” you replied, cleaning the rest of the dishes, setting them on the side. “Or else my friend will think I’m overworking myself.” 

“Julie?” Seungkwan asked, and you nodded. “How is she doing, by the way?”

Dusting away at your hands, you gave him a look, untying your apron. “How do you know her name?”

“I talked to her when you ran away from me, remember?”

“I didn’t run away,” you muttered, but that did not stop the pompous twist of his mouth, threatening to sour your mood. 

Another ten minutes, and the rest of you were sorted, clothing and other personal items extracted from your locker and donning your coat. You let Seungkwan and the children exit first, making sure all the entrances were locked save for the one you were leaving from.

The chill of the London winter nipped at your face as you left from the backdoor, a slight shiver cluttering your teeth as you locked the premises. You witnessed the man firmly wrapping his huge red scarf around the girl, whispering to the boy at the same time to don his gloves—yes, even if they don’t let him use his phone.

As you walked over to the group, you were about to start when he beat you to it. “I'll drop Sohyun and Sojung off, and then I’ll get to the planning. My dad will be up around this time, so I’ll ask about his preferences.”

“I’ll do some research back home,” you offered. “Jinsoul wasn’t mad, right? I think you disturbed her date.”

“She’ll live,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve got more important things to do, anyway.”

Nodding, you then leaned forward, smiling at the children. “You two should come again.” 

“Oh, we will!” Sojung promised, smirking. “I don’t know why Uncle Seungkwan was hiding you from us.”

The accused ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’re running your mouth too much today.”

“He always runs his mouth too much,” Sohyun muttered, causing her brother to stick his tongue out at her. 

Giggling at their antics, you looked to Seungkwan, who sighed slightly as you released another shiver. “You know I need you alive for this dessert report.”

Hugging yourself tightly, you remarked, “Who would have thought Boo Seungkwan wanted me happy and healthy by his side?”

A snort, misting in the cold air. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I said alive. Barely is fine by me, too.”

You shook your head at him, restraining the urge to let your lips quirk upward. “Goodnight, Seungkwan.”

As you swivelled with a last goodbye to his niece and nephew, you left for the underground, not two minutes away. 

Sohyun was the first to break the night silence as you finally turned the corner, away from their sight. “I like her, Uncle Seungkwan,” she declared, walking ahead of the group. 

“Me too,” Sojung agreed, following after his sister in hopes to tread on her boots. “I hope we see her again.”

The man did not listen to their petty arguments which soon replaced their praises of you, holding onto their first confessions. And although he did not voice them out loud, his thoughts were an answer, left unsaid.

You will see her again—whether I want to or not.

THE NEXT WEEK BROUGHT ANOTHER CHANGE WITHIN YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH SEUNGKWAN. 

Mostly because what you and your partner had actually was a relationship now. The intense months, before the Christmas menu was even established, where you and him had argued and screamed the kitchen down had soothed into a kurt understanding of the dessert you were about to create. At last, after months of your victories, your losses to him, the disgruntled progression into stalemates, you two had achieved the unachievable.

You both had decided on a dessert.

Jeonghan could not believe his ears when you first informed him, and immediately booked himself a special Specsaver’s hearing test—you forgot how far he would go for a bit, but at least it was not your time he was wasting. He asked Seungkwan for confirmation, and, sure enough, when the latter agreed, your boss may have experienced shell-shock akin to war veterans. Of course, you wanted to be offended, but you had no right—at the end of the day, Jeonghan had only ever seen violence brewing between you and the dessert chef. Any semblance of toleration was considered a breaking-news event.

The two of you tried not to let Jeonghan’s shock distract you from your planning—Seungkwan received a wealth of information from his father, and learned that the most classic form of the affogato is the one he created for you—the vanilla gelato, and hot espresso poured on top. Although it was delicious, it was deemed too plain for Christmas menu, and opted for more flavours. 

Seungkwan first offered the idea for whipped cream, but you rejected it. “Whipped cream and gelato seems excessive,” you explained, looking over your research notes. “The cream might offset the gelato’s flavour.”

“How do you feel about chocolate shavings? It could work well with smoothing out the bitterness of the espresso.” 

“But the gelato’s doing that,” you countered. “I don’t mind it, but I’d want something stronger for the first choice.” 

“Hmm…” He skimmed his father’s ramblings for a moment, then handed it to you. “This is what Dad used. He’d swap certain things around.”

Reading through, the first thing you noticed was the neat writing—Seungkwan’s, undoubtedly. He had categorised different gelato flavours in one column, espresso or other coffee variations in the second, liqueur choices for the third, and the last, larger column was reserved for toppings. “He certainly has range,” you commented, looking up. “How come you missed learning it?”

“You’re the only one blind to it,” he disputed, crossing his arms. “It’s a wonder you’re not turning down the affogato as we speak.” 

“You never know!” you chirped sarcastically, in hope to keep him on his toes. “Did you try out all these variations?”

“Yep. I was a picky eater.” He exhaled through his nose at your incredulous look, reminiscing. “Shocking, I know. Aside from the alcohol, he tried every single one of those flavours. All of them are approved by child-me, teenage-me, and today-me.” 

“I see,” you said, reverting back to the notes. You had to admit, his father did take liberties with what he deemed Italian for an Italian drink. As you kept reading it over, glancing at the man’s peaceful recollection, you did not think that mattered. 

This was someone’s efforts to keep their child full. This was a father’s testimony of ensuring his son’s happiness. 

You smiled at the notion, offering the pages back to him. “I personally like the biscotti the most out of all these options. If we chop the biscuit finely enough, it’ll have a nice crunch in the dessert. It’ll keep the espresso’s essence as well, while also maintaining the sweetness of the ice cream.”

His slight surprise had you pulling back. “What? Oh, is this your turn to reject me now?”

But then he smiled a little, catching you off guard. “No, the opposite actually. I’m just surprised you chose that one.”

“Why?” You groaned, getting up from your seat. “It’s the worst one, right? Baby-you threw up after having it, I’m sure.”

“No, actually.” He paused. “The biscotti was my favourite topping.”

Oh. “So…you’re good for its almond flavouring?”

He nodded, taking the papers from you. “Yeah, I am…why are you asking?”

“It’s just…I don’t think we’ve ever agreed to a decision so…cordially.” 

Seungkwan scoffed. “Well, obviously we weren’t gonna argue when you agreed with me.”

You instantly checked him on this. “I was the one who suggested it.”

His counter was immediate. “You picked it from my notes.”

A click of your tongue. “Your dad’s, actually.” 

He opened his mouth, eyes narrowing, but then realised you were right, and clamped his lips together. The action within those sudden sequences had you offering him a smirk. “And I thought we were past all this,” he whinged, exasperation clear. 

“Don’t think I’ll let you win so easily,” you warned, widening your shit-eating smile as you walked over to the espresso machines, regarding the fine steel in its all shining glory. 

“I never win easily with you,” he grumbled, stepping beside you. 

“It should be kept that way,” you only said. “Now, how do we work this shit?” 

Seungkwan turned away from you, hiding his bemused smile before clearing his throat and explaining the rules. This was the way you two worked now—a smidge of back and forth bickering, but never truly rising to the surface where you threatened ultimate violence. 

It was strange, you had to admit; never before had you felt a tolerance, even an acceptance of his presence beside you. He would offer assistance of some kind, bring forth new suggestions, and your first instinct was not to cuss out his ancestors for suggesting such gullible ideas. Even the man who worked alongside you would not provoke your rash temper, and day by day you found yourself wondering why, after the entirety of his acquaintance, you had never simply got on with him. 

You did not care to investigate the origins of who was at fault. All that was left, in a sense, was to salvage whatever strange alliance you both had created, and hope that was enough to finish the final dessert. 

The preparations, the testing of the machines continued into the restaurant’s opening, and Jeonghan assisted, as promised during the beginning of the process, in helping with orders, teaching Junhui of the more luxurious, complex desserts during that time. Thankfully, the restaurant was quieter that day, so the Head Chef was relaxed, carefree enough to try provoking you and Seungkwan into a disagreement, but to no avail. 

The trialling carried on well into the night, the only people left in the restaurant being you two and Jeonghan, who was arguing with his accountant loud enough to hear it through the dessert stations. You ignored him, tasting the newly created vanilla gelato, liquid espresso and biscotti pieces sprinkled. Seungkwan brought out the last touch, pouring a half-shot of amaretto liqueur into the long, slender glass. 

And as the two of you tasted the dessert, your spoon first, and then passing it onto him, you realised you may have made something great—perfection can take a while, you both understood it, but what you two created was something bigger than yourselves. Realistically, it was just a beverage, but it was not just a beverage—this was peace, scooped up within the containers of the gelato, an acceptance peeking out within the chopped biscottis. This was—could you say it—respect, poured from his very hands, staining the glass of your relationship with him. 

Even as the two of you shared a look of understanding, finishing the singular affogatto together, you knew circumstances had shifted—something was different. 

Seeing as the boss was stuck with working out his finances, you decided to head out, letting Seungkwan finish with the cleaning up, lest you make a sound and he made you carry out your dishwashing. You made a head start towards your belongings in the other room, taking out your bag and jacket as the man walked to his lockers. Donning your layers, he slid out his satchel, coat and that long-ass scarf, snapping the square door shut. 

“I think we can send the report to Jeonghan any day now,” he said, sliding his arms through the coat holes. 

You began to walk to the back door, watching him follow slowly. “You think so?” 

He caught up, wrapping his scarf around himself—three loops round his neck, almost hiding half his face. Pulling down the fabric with a finger, he settled his chin over the scarf, nodding. “We’ve done almost everything…I mean, there’s a bit of paperwork left, but I’ll write that tonight when I’m at Jinsoul’s.”

“You’re going to your sister’s?” you asked as you grabbed onto the door. “Don’t tell me you’re interrupting the poor couple again.”

“So what if I am?” he demanded. “That’s on them for establishing a relationship between me and their kids.”

“Fair enough.” Opening the door to the outside world, you instantly shivered at the sheer temperature drop from the past few days. London’s winters were unpredictable, but you forgot its cruelty too. The chill of the midnight winter seeped through your too-thin jacket, and you had to stop yourself from shivering out of your bones.

Your teeth would have chattered more had Seungkwan not spoken again. “She was asking about you, by the way.”

“Oh,” you could only say—courtesy of the cold, and the teeth. “She was?” 

“Why’re you so shocked by that?”

A lazy shrug. “I don’t know…I thought you would have talked shit about me.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Now why would you think that?” You returned the gaze, and then he let out an understanding noise. “Oh, yeah…yeah, I did that the other day actually.”

“Hey, now!” You would have nudged his elbow, but were too cold to do so. “I haven’t pissed you off this past fortnight.”

“I know, I know, I just…” he sighed a little, which frosted into the air. “I mean…I’ve mentioned you. In passing.”

“In passing?” You parroted, hugging yourself. A frosted scoff escaped you. “You can’t help being obsessed with me, huh?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, which had you chuckling—the soft laughter was cut off by your teeth once more, chattering to the point of catching his notice. “You knew it was gonna get cold, you idiot.” 

You returned his observations with a glare. “I didn’t actually know that, which is why I’m cold right now…you idiot.”

The condensation from your mouth was enough evidence of the chill—that, and of course, your bated breaths. “Yes, I’m the idiot that’s so nice and warm,” Seungkwan sang, irritating you further. 

When you did not deign to respond to him, the cold weather conquering your meagre layers, nipping at your skin, he stopped the next dig, at the tip of his tongue. He then observed your countenance—the rubbing of the arms, the groans you tried to contain at the discomfort taking over. The man veiled his mouth with the bunched-up scarf, narrowing his eyes. Sighing a little, the heat of his breath curled against the fabric, kissing his face, and the slight warmth that welcomed him did not bring him the comfort he relished mere minutes prior. 

He looked at you, hugging yourself tightly. The moment your eyes flickered to his, remnants of displeasure in your eyes, his own widened slightly.

Shit. His hands grabbed onto the scarf before he realised what he was doing. Shit, shit, shit, was all he could think, as, with hands unwrapping the long piece of clothing from his neck, he seethed a little at the chill that welcomed his exposed skin.

Before you could realise what he was doing, he brought the length of the scarf around you, both his hands holding each of the ends at your sides. “Wh-what are you doing?” you got out, your hands instantly stopping his. “Wait, Seungkwan—”

“Save your bickering,” he cut you off, merely waving your hands away as he wrapped the first loop around you, the scarf still too long on one side. “Talking will only make you colder.”

But you were already opening your mouth, ready to counter him when another loop of the scarf masked half of your face. Your surprise was shown only through your eyes, but he ignored it completely, wrapping the length around one last time. The scarf had almost shrunk you, your head buried in the layers, and Seungkwan had to pause for a second, unable to contain his smile. 

What are you smiling at? you asked, except the scarf had mumbled your speech, and he could not hear a thing. He could understand very clearly the irritation, though, rising in your gaze, and that only broke the seam of his lips, grinning at you. 

“Wait, hold still,” he said, reaching to the top of the neckwear. He leaned in, fingers folding down the fabric, slowly and gently, and you blinked back at the proximity. You had a feeling he had not noticed at first, but then your eyes bore into him, and his fingers slowed. His knuckle brushed against your jaw, and a soft shiver escaped you, finally catching his attention. Only then he stole a glance, realising just how close he was to you. 

His pupils were darting all over your face, as much as he could take in from the closeness. You could not help it either, mouth parting, watching his bated breaths condense upon your face. God, he was close to you, and it was out of the ordinary, unfamiliar territory. If he leaned in any further, his lips would caress yours, solving the problem of this chill. You were not cold though—not anymore, with your cheeks burning every second spent under his scrutiny. 

You should be pulling away—should be taking a step back. He felt the same. Once again, the two of you were in sync; always denying how similar you both thought, but confronted with that fated truth. 

Seungkwan could see it—the truth, reflecting in your gaze. “There,” he whispered, fingers brushing against the scarf. 

The scarf. His scarf. “I can’t have this,” you said, but your voice was barely there. “It’s yours.” 

“I know.” A ghost of his raised brow. “It’s not like I’m giving it to you forever. I will take it back.”

You twisted your mouth. “Way to ruin a moment.” 

He parted his mouth, both brows raising. “Was there a moment to ruin?” 

“No!” you gasped out, craning your head back. You saw his smirk rise, and it was agonising, how your speech stuttered. “No, no, no. No moment here! You’re thinking it all up.” 

“Hmm,” was all he got out, gaze skimming over your face—pausing at your mouth. “If you say so.” 

With one last moment (because yes, there was something, and there was no denying it anymore), he stepped away, admiring the scarf wrapped around you. “Maybe I should let you keep it.”

This time, you had to look away. “You can have it back tomorrow.” Glancing over the time on your phone, you cleared your throat, fidgeting with the fabric. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

He nodded, hands sliding in his pockets. “We’re so close, _____.” 

Choosing to avoid his eyes, you instead focused on the locks of his hair, the lapels of his jacket. It was unavoidable—he was beautiful, and he was smiling. A celebration of the coming victory, so near that you could taste Jeonghan’s approval. 

So you smiled back. “We are, Seungkwan.” 

JEONGHAN TURNED ANOTHER PAGE OF THE FINAL DESSERT REPORT. 

You waited anxiously, one leg folded over the other as your eyes focused intently at the head chef, reading over the analysis. He was silent for the first time in a while, no sarcastic quip over the explanations. No questions were thrown at you, catching you off—all you were tested with was complete quiet, which, in a weirder sense, unnerved you more. 

Your partner was there, too—in the same seat he always claimed on your right, bouncing his leg in anticipation, eyes trained at the same target as yours. He, on the other hand, could not deal with the silence which permeated the office. “I think you’ve read this section for the third time, Chef.” 

But Chef ignored him, choosing to spend another ten minutes staring at the same pages, an effective enough punishment for being bothered. You would have thrown him an irritated glare had you not been so exhausted from the final trials.

The affogato dessert report was finished after another week of testing. 

You and Seungkwan had spent half of the nights within that week at the restaurant, bouncing ideas off each other, finalising the rest of the toppings, the beverage variations. The two of you must have had fifty hours of sleep combined for the past six days, but it was worth the wait. It was worth the restlessness, the countless drafts of writing and rewriting…it reached a full completion at two in the morning, when you and your partner took one look at each other and knew you had done it.

Bothering Jeonghan at that time would have gotten you both fired, so you resorted to running back home for six-odd hours before trudging back to the restaurant. You saw Seungkwan at the entrance, identical eye-bags to yours, his frown a default feature on his sleep-stricken face. Still, the clear fatigue seemed to clear when he caught sight of you, leaving the door open to let you in. 

It was here now, with you two anxiously waiting, that Jeonghan snapped the file shut, the slap of paper against paper jolting you both alert. “I hope that’s woken you up.” 

The man beside you groaned, his leg ceasing the bouncing. “Jesus,” he could only say, because cursing his boss only fast-tracked him to unemployment (not that Jeonghan would have sacked him—in honesty, he was hoping one of them would call him a dickhead and storm out).

“It did,” you answered, trying your hardest to not knife him with your gaze. “Now are you approving the dessert?” 

He observed the front of the report, jutting out his lower lip. “Well, I am impressed with the details…I don’t think any of you have put this much effort into a dessert report in your entire career.” 

“Don’t say that!” You immediately exclaimed. “My granita dessert report last year was top-notch and you agreed with me!” 

“Yeah, but that was last year, so it doesn't exist anymore.” He waved off your counters, continuing, “Anyway, this report is brilliant. I can see how much effort the two of you have put into this process.”

You nodded along to his comments, locking your hands together. There was no denying it, of course—you and Seungkwan had carved out your hearts and mixed the remnants within the affogato. What was appreciated was Jeonghan witnessing it with his own eyes. 

“Before I officially start advertising the final selection, I do need to ask you one thing.” He set the report to the side, setting his chin upon interlocked fingers. “Now I know how you both felt about working together for this project…obviously I didn’t care about your opinions because of the disruptions, but recently, there’s been a peaceful environment at the station.” 

His eyes darted between his dessert chefs. “Should the opportunity arise…would you work together on specific projects again?”

The dreaded silence was back, but it was not the head chef which instigated it this time. 

It took almost every nerve in your system to restrain the muscles in your body, which would instinctively turn your head towards the man beside you. Biting your lip, glancing down at your hands once more, you thought the question over, echoing slowly in your mind.

If you were asked this question a couple of weeks ago, you would have laughed in Jeonghan’s face. You still remembered the evening in this office, when your boss doomed the two of you with the dessert project. You had not forgotten the snide comments, the back-and-forth bickering, even the fated confrontations—the night with the burnt caramel which had your entire viewpoint spinning on its surface.

What you did not comprehend was the change; the slow shift in every interaction, the anticipation of his family’s interactions, wondering whether his sister had asked for you again. That was the jackpot moment, you thought. At the end of the day, Seungkwan had not changed—you simply bothered to know him.  

And whatever you had learned, you did not despise. 

You chose not to admit any of this to the group. Instead, you remained in your silence, waiting for any of the men to shatter it.

Seungkwan stepped up to the quiet and broke it. “I dreaded doing the project.” You looked at him. He continued, staring at Jeonghan. “It was hard, I’ll be honest…what with our constant fighting and that.” 

It was after a while he spoke again. “However, if you force us together in the next quarter, then…” He turned to you, and you swore there was a glow radiating from his face. “I wouldn’t mind it...being forced together with her again.”

You parted your mouth. You could barely hear Jeonghan’s scoff, humming at the implications. No, you only stared at him, your partner-in-crime, your—your friend? Something different, another term entirely. 

Your mouth ran on its own, disregarding your sense of thought. “I wouldn’t mind it either.” 

This time, you heard the boss’ huff of laughter enough to snap out of your stunned daze, watching him rise from his chair. “Does this mean my customers won’t hear you both arguing over their moonlit dinners?” 

Truly, you wanted to frown at him. “As long as Seungkwan keeps quiet,” you said, glancing at the said-man.

His smile was mischievous when you caught it—you had to look away. “I’m not promising a damn thing.”

You only heard Jeonghan’s laughter then, vanishing only by the closing of his door as he left, approved report in hand. 

Perhaps Seungkwan wanted to say more, but you hurried out of the office under the pretense of opening the restaurant. He chose to play along to your excuses, helping you alongside Mingyu and Junhui for the ingredient prepping, and soon business took over priority, the rush of the customers even in the late morning. 

The bustling environment of the restaurant did not calm until its closing, you cursing the customers for not offering a single break during your long shift. The entire time consisted of egg and sugar whipping, the sounds of caramel cooking, espresso steaming and curt orders thrown around by you and your partner in the station. Because the stress of the dessert menu had faded, though, a great level of pressure had subsided, as if the summer sun had cleared through London’s winter storms. 

Nighttime cloaked Covent Garden, stars scattered across the black sky, twinkling at the thousands upon thousands, in and out of the entrance columns. After seeing the last family off on their merry way, you turned the banner to Closed, sighing after a long day’s work. 

Mingyu and Junhui were already packing, informing you of their plans together, so you let them leave earlier than anticipated. Seungkwan was the sole chef left, save for Jeonghan—though he could have fucked off without anyone’s knowing, for all you knew.

You thought he would have ran straight for his sister’s down south; it was a Friday night, which meant that Sohyun and Sojung were anticipating movie night with their favourite (and only, so you doubted how prized this title really was) uncle. Despite being aware of this, you caught sight of him whipping up the all-too familiar dessert, this time in accordance to the restaurant’s official recipe.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked him, walking over to where he stood next to the counter. “The kids’ll be waiting.” 

“You remembered,” he pointed out, surprised. Pouring the espresso on top, he looked over to you, closing in. “Well, today I get a pass to celebrate our victory.” 

“Victory?” You observed the finished affogato, scrunching your nose. “Not to be that person, but I’ve had enough of these to last me the year.” 

“I know you were gonna say that,” he countered, holding up a finger as he stepped to the side. Lo and behold, there was a large bottle of champagne, a crisp burgundy bow wrapped around the neck. “Which is why I brought a little extra for the occasion.” 

Lighting up at the sight of the alcohol, you grabbed onto the top, studying the label. “Franciacorta. Very tasteful.” 

You set it back, searching for a corkscrew. “You sound shocked by my tastefulness,” you heard him remark, you opening the drawers and finding it amongst the disarray of cutlery. 

“Well, of course,” you said, bringing the utensil to Seungkwan’s side of the counter, waiting for him to add in the cut-up biscotti. “Let’s not forget who the classier one out of us is.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I am not getting into that can of worms.”

“All the better for your rep,” you added, earning a snort from him. 

“Right,” he began, pushing the drink in your direction as he grabbed the bottle. “How about a drink first?”

“That I can agree with,” you said, handing him the corkscrew. 

Seungkwan struck the cork with it, twisting it till he was satisfied. Then, with a little force, he popped open the champagne, fizzing from the bottle’s mouth. “There we go,” he sighed out, grabbing a couple of spare glasses, identical to the dessert’s shape, and filling them to the very tip. “I couldn’t find the proper glasses.”

“And you said you were the classier one,” you quipped, sipping the drink. 

Shaking his head, he drank up, seething as he brought the glass down. “I can’t believe we’re finished, you know.” 

“I don’t think it’s settled yet for me,” you admitted. “It was only a few weeks, but it felt like months.”

“God, I know.” Finishing off the first glass, he poured himself another. “Remember when you wanted to add leaves in the dessert? We’ve come so far.” 

“Now you know I had a whole plan for that,” you defended, shaking a finger at him as you kept drinking. “And you can’t say anything, with your diabetes-inducing sweets.”

“You’re the one who agreed to the affogato.” He twisted his mouth into a smirk. “And that was my idea.” 

You wanted to snarl at him—it had been too long since a bickering broke any semblance of peace, and although you enjoyed the lack of shouting, you swore it was enhancing his overconfidence. 

But you decided to indulge him. You did not know why. “Your idea was so personal to your roots, Seungkwan. I don’t think I could have said no.” 

Even he was stunned. “You couldn’t have said no?” he repeated in question, brows raising.

You only downed the rest of your champagne. “Nope.” 

“Huh.” That was all he could give, swirling his drink. Your insides sung at his reaction, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling. Seungkwan’s smirks, you thought, truly had no substance the way his surprised, one-word responses did.

Another glass down, and you felt the buzz of the alcohol, bubbling through your veins, settling a little too pleasantly in your mind. The lights of the dessert station had been dimmed, too, only the lights of the hob turned on, your surroundings atmospheric. The silences may have been prevalent, but there was no discomfort. The tranquility was…in a way, it was beautiful.

There was more beauty, it seemed, in Seungkwan’s next words. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if it was anyone else, you know.” 

You straightened in your seat. “Oh?”

He nodded, you thinking that was the rest of it. But then he opened his mouth again, spilling out the confession which rested in his heart. “If it was anyone else working with me, they wouldn’t have seen the dessert, why I made it…my sister, her kids, anything like that.” He took a deep breath, about to continue, but then made sure to drink up. “And you suggested it first, which…I really appreciated.”

“Is that why I had never seen your family before?” another sip of the champagne. “Because you hated me that much?”

“I never hated you, _____,” he said, which only had you scoffing. “No, really! Sure, you pissed me off. Did Jinsoul first hear of you cause I bitched about you? Unfortunately, yeah. But!” he countered, raising a finger, “It was never hatred.”

“Well, I can’t say the same,” you mumbled, staring into the end of your glass. He grabbed your attention, filling it to the rim once more. 

His stare did not leave you. “It’s not like that anymore, right?”

You matched his gaze—a smile threatened to take over. “No…not anymore. I got to know you, didn’t I?” 

He could have gasped. 

Boo Seungkwan, for the first time in his life, was speechless. It usually took devastating news to rattle him to his core—a notion so shocking his world slips from underneath him. His pupils almost dilated, gaping at you as if you told him he had won Jeonghan’s restaurant.

And although it was endearing, truly a sight to behold, you had the nerve to raise a brow at him. “Weren’t you the one who said I didn’t?”

He blinked back at the question, realising that he was not in a trance. “That I did.” He cleared his throat, downing another glass. The alcohol was getting to him, he could feel it.  

You decided to leave the champagne for now, the bubbles successful in enhancing your giddiness. Turning to the affogato, you finally gave it some attention, digging in with a spoon. “It’s melted now,” you commented, taking another bite. 

“That’s what happens when you ignore a dessert,” Seungkwan remarked, tutting as he drank.

“Don’t give a girl such good champagne then.” 

“Hmm, or maybe you’re distracted by my company,” he appealed, watching you roll your eyes and chuckling. “Come on. We’re not throwing food at each other anymore, so you can be honest.” 

“Okay,” you said, savouring the espresso and vanilla, in perfect harmony in your mouth. “I guess you’re not the worst person to have a conversation with.” He made to celebrate, face lightening up, but you interjected, “When you’re around your family.”

“Yeah, now you’re just saying shit,” he rebuked, setting the glass down. “I’m a bloody joy to be around!” 

“And which one out of Jinsoul’s kids said that to get a doughnut out of you?”

“None of them!” he first exclaimed, but after two seconds of staring him down, he sighed out, “Sojung got four doughnuts that day.” 

“Exactly.” Another bite, a little messy—you were sure the vanilla cream left remnants on your lips. “I told you, right? I know you now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he only said, tilting his head on his shoulder. He had drunk enough tonight. He was not usually careless—not that he was, but he did not take his glasses into account. He did, but he was with you tonight, and you were so happy. 

He then noticed the slight gelato lining your lips, and he perked up slightly. “Affogato that good? You left behind a trail.”

“Unfortunately. Where is it?” you asked, trying to wipe it off, but to no avail. “I’m looking stupid, right?”

“The dumbest.” He pointed to his own mouth, but you would not follow. “Wait, one second.” 

He stepped closer, rubbing his hands on his trousers. With a harsh intake of breath, he reached his hand out, and you froze at his touch, brushing against the corner of his lip. His focus did not distract him from your expression, thumb rubbing off the vanilla, cream fading from his every gentle swipe. His finger was soft—softer than you expected, velvety like the ice cream he made for you. 

It was only when he finished, craning his head back just an inch, that he noticed your tensed-up expression—the breath that was caught in your throat. He had parted his mouth, the realisation striking him cold, and all he could do was watch—eyes flickering to your own, darting between one and the other, as if unable to take the full intensity of your stare. 

You caught him peeking shamelessly at your lips, where his thumb remained, a ghost of a touch. Seconds passed, none of you daring to move, and you suddenly had an inkling that he was about to do something. 

Oh God. Was he? You could not tell—he was looking at you in a strange manner, eyes heavy lidded. It must have been the alcohol. You were sure that was the reason for his daze, why his breaths were uneven.

You could not help the whisper escaping, as soft and delicate as a winter snowflake, twirling in a cold breeze. “Seungkwan?” 

The said-man blinked back at your voice—his name on your tongue. 

What you were going to do was close your eyes, brace yourself for the final distance—and then you realised you were bracing yourself for Boo Seungkwan, and the slight panic set in, striking you like a lightning bolt. 

He must have caught it in your eyes, because then his reaction reflected your own, and maybe he made the most idiotic decision in his entire life. Although every muscle in his body demanded he do the opposite, he began to pull away and then you grasped onto your mistake, realising what he was doing, and you cursed yourself for letting him slip away in front of you this very second—this devastating, crucial moment. 

And even though you did not comprehend what in hell you were doing at that moment, you caught his arm, holding onto the white cotton of his work shirt. He gaped at the gesture before setting the shock on you. “What’re you doing?” he rasped out.

“What’re you doing?” was your answer.

It was there, in the dimmed, flickering lights of the hob, that he stared at you, trying the hardest he ever had in the entirety of his life to catch your meaning. Damn him for drinking, damn his lack of restraint, because maybe if he had one less glass of champagne—

The darkening of your irises clocked any confusion in his tipsied judgement. His mouth parted, and you could have sighed with an intoxicated relief.

He knew you after all. 

“Bastard,” you could only say, catching the beginnings of an appeased grin before he leaned in, any semblance of doubt erased as he pressed his lips to yours. 

The first touch of his mouth was indescribable. 

Never did you think you would find yourself in this situation, closing your eyes, a soft hum as he moved against you, finding the rhythm upon your lips. His own were so soft, a shocking twist in the tale—all those hard, condescending quips, but you supposed it should have made perfect sense. Your arguments were bitter, your collaborations tensioned, but there were no remnants of the past in his movements. He was as soft as the gelato you had indulged in, as velvety as the espresso coating his affogato gift. 

Your breaths were caught in your throat, caged by his mouth, which delved deeper as the man’s hands cupped your face. His fingers were warm, shaking as they tilted your head to enhance the kiss. Your senses were alive before, but they were bouncing off the kitchen walls now, darting from the stove to the countertop, out of the doors and into the city as the sheer pleasure took over. 

It was in that moment you realised that Boo Seungkwan was not only a great dessert chef, but an excellent kisser. The way he moved his lips with yours, syncing you along with him, was unfathomable in any other situation. You, following along, even bothering to hear him out, here now, trailing after his movements? You could not help yourself, though, when he was good, he knew this like he knew the affogato—familiar with its recipe, its methods, how to create it, nourishing it to perfection. 

And because every dessert creation needed patience, Seungkwan was slow, careful as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips, trialling, testing. He succeeded in the first attempt, you opening up to him, and the feeling of his tongue slithering along yours had your stomach somersaulting within, unable to contain yourself. You could not contain the soft groans, lodged deep within your throat, and you could have sworn the bastard smiled against you, closing his mouth as he sucked on your tongue. 

This was it. In the Vita di Diamante, under the lights of a luxury restaurant’s dessert-kitchen, your hands crept up his arms, locking behind his neck, and you snuffed out any distance, the countertop edges digging slowly into your side, dutifully ignored. Any sense of discomfort was replaced by the mountain of pleasure, boosted by Seungkwan’s fingers on your face, then your neck, his lips taking yours prisoner, threatening to roam, and his body, pressing against your own, his weight like a welcome cage, engulfing your entire presence. 

This was nothing short of intoxication, a spark of a drug which would spiral into an addiction. You had kissed many others before your supposed rival, this uncertain friend, but you were sure of the ecstasy he offered, given to you in abundance. You had thought him selfish, narcissistic. But was this not compassion, each heated bursts of generosity he planted on the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, slowly trailing downward till he found refuge on the patch of skin, just above your collarbone? Were these not acts of selflessness, the manner in which he teethed his kisses, inciting a moan loud enough to have your entire face alight?

It was that particular noise that made him realise his place, a burst of pride igniting inside him before he noticed the hob lights glistening your face. “We shouldn’t—fuck—” Seungkwan cursed out, breathless, and your stomach fluttered at the mere curse, spewed out countless times before. When did you become so affected—no, rattled by whatever this man did? “W-we shouldn’t do this here.” 

Yet he was peppering you with open-mouthed kisses, and you could have screamed at him for making it so hard to answer him. “Then maybe…” you were rasping out your breaths, mind a complete daze. “Maybe you should stop.” 

Pausing, he dragged his mouth, skimming along to your neck, only pulling away to lock your heavy-lidded eyes with his own. The lust swirling within them was the final, perfect garnish to the dessert of his desire—the same desire which worsened your hunger. “Do you want me to stop?” 

Instinctively, you licked your lips, swiping up the remnants of Seungkwan’s efforts, relishing the residue of the champagne. When he caught the mere action, he hoped with the very marrow of his bones that you did not refuse him. 

When you narrowed his eyes, lips twisting in a sneer, his fervour paused. “Are you fucking stupid?” you spat out, and he gawked at you—only for a second.

But a second was still too long, because you grabbed onto the collars of his shirt, colliding your mouth against his, and he could have sighed with relief. He furrowed his brow as matched your hunger, sliding his tongue back into your mouth, and this time you let the moans free, a symphony to his ears. He was all over you, moreso when his hands now tugged at your sides, pushing you further into the counter. You did not catch onto his intentions until, with one swift swipe of his hands, he lifted you upon the countertop, chasing your lips still, refusing to break away. He pushed between your thighs, caging himself in your presence, and it was embarrassing how quick your body responded, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Seungkwan was delirious, you were frenzied—Seungkwan was out of his mind, and you were out of your soul, the sounds of your mouths and tongues colliding in a destructive understanding, a heated combination that would have been impossible mere weeks ago. What had happened, how did it all equate to this very situation? Fate always worked in strange ways, but you had to work out how you ended up in this passionate scene—shameless as your whimpers grew louder, his arrogance growing with them, swallowing them with his mouth. 

Maybe you both would have created something grander than any dessert in this station, sweeter than the damned cinnamon Seungkwan campaigned for at every given chance. With the soft moans darkening, breaths rasping out in slight desperation, you would have shown this restaurant a harmony never witnessed in your work. 

But at this precise moment, Yoon fucking Jeonghan sauntered into the kitchens, ready to share some good news to you both when he took one look at your colliding figures.

The sharp, shocked scoff that escaped his coral lips had you and Seungkwan stopping dead in your heated tracks. 

“How many more health and safety regulations are you two gonna violate?”

It was comical, how you both whipped your heads at the slender figure, smirk so conceited and pompous you wondered whether you were bickering at the wrong chef this entire time. “I knew one day you were gonna eat each other’s faces off,” he continued, catching onto every sudden movement of Seungkwan’s fingers tightening at your waist, your arms loosening around his neck. “But did it have to be in my goddamn kitchen?”

“Shut the fuck up,” was the younger’s reasonable response, earning him a huff of laughter from his boss. You could only stare and do nothing, so ashamed of being caught you restrained the urge to hide within the crook of his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, don’t be angry at me!” Jeonghan waved his hand over to the door beyond the further walls. “Personally, I think the pantry’s a better shout…more privacy, you know?” Close enough in front of you, his grin lop-sided. “Unless, of course, you wanted to give me a show—”

“Please, Jeonghan!” you cried out finally, as, with an aching decision, you pulled away from the man’s arms, the absence duly noted. “God, don’t you have a life outside of this place?”

“Well, if I did, then I wouldn’t have a restaurant,” he countered, smug as his eyes darted between his employees. “And my dear dessert chefs wouldn’t have a love shack to fuck in.”

That horrendous statement had you jumping down from the counter, dusting yourself off as you glowered at your boss, risking termination. “You need to talk to someone other than your accountant.” 

A melodramatic sigh left his lips. “You’re right, which is why I was taking a few other calls. That’s why I came down here, to let you both know that there will be some very important people coming in for the new menu’s christening.” He then raised his hands in surrender. “But then I see you guys have much more important shit to cover!” 

Perhaps telling your boss to get floored under a Northern line tube was cruel, but the thread stayed rooted on your tongue. He could sense it for sure, because he looked at his watch. “Now I have to go soon, which means I want you going home.” He glanced up at the post-makeoutage scene, another chuckle rising. “So who’s place are you continuing this shit in?” 

“Go away, man!” Seungkwan demanded as you groaned, only left with Jeonghan’s laughter ringing in your ears as he left the scene, bidding an adieu with wiggling brows. 

With the silence falling on you both, the tension, so rampant beforehand, had all but crashed disastrously after the interruption. The complete absurdity of it all brought a sigh out of you, Seungkwan humming in agreement.

“How do we get Jeonghan fired?” was the first question asked in the kitchen—courtesy of your venom.

“You think a bullying allegation would cut it?” the man suggested, but you clicked your tongue. “Nah, you’re right, it’s child’s play in this business. We’d be deemed cowards.” 

“Couldn’t he have come later?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. God, you were tired. The tipsy stupor had morphed into fatigue. 

And although Seungkwan felt the lethargy too, he chose to latch onto your words. “Later, huh? Didn’t want to be disturbed, then?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean.”

But he was back to being a grade-A asshole, so he crowed, “No, please, indulge me…what did you mean?” 

You meant to glare at him, but his eyes were dancing, and you remembered his lips on you all over again. You resorted to silence, clamping your lips together, finding a little comfort in the smile he curled at your quiet response. 

The two of you found yourselves collecting your things, Jeonghan the final man left in the restaurant so there was no concern for locking up. Your paths were shared up until Leicester Square's Station, ten minutes away from the restaurant, where your destination was. 

“You didn’t have to walk me here, you know,” you said, turning to him as you fished for your travel card.

Seungkwan nodded lightly, “I know…I wanted to ask you something, actually.” 

You looked at him, anticipating. There were still crowds, even at this time of night, rushing in and out of the popular station, but you did not notice them, not now. Not when he was gazing at you, an indecipherable emotion flickering in his features. 

He licked his lips, intaking a sharp breath before asking you. “You didn’t…regret it, right?” 

You knew what he meant, of course. Because you were a piece of shit too—only a little—you took a step closer, tilting your head at him. “What do you think?” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make me answer that,” he said, “Whatever I’ll say you’ll just say the opposite.” 

A chuckle. “Smart man.” 

Which is why you refrained from speaking the opposite—did not say anything at all as you leaned in, holding his face in your hand as you kissed him.

It was an unexpected phenomenon for him—exactly what you hoped to achieve. Still, it was welcomed, as Seungkwan moved his lips against yours, opening his mouth upon you to let a soft moan escape. The rush of London was no more—no tourists with their loud cameras, no locals with their grumblings of said-tourists. It was you and him, and this moment, captured in your lips in harmony with his.

Which is why it was difficult to break away, breathing heavily at the sensation as you watched his eyes flutter open, completely breathless. The sight had your heart constricting. 

“Is that enough of an answer?” you asked him.

The smile he offered you was enough. 

“WHEN ARE WE GONNA MEET SANTA CLAUS?” 

The age-old question. You scanned the constant wave of local and international shoppers, twice the size of the groups you and Julie dealt with weeks ago. “It won’t be too far now, dear,” you reassured the boy, who was frowning the further along you walked. 

“We just have to find the big Christmas tree,” Sohyun explained, looking back as she led the pack. “And we would if we actually hurried up.” 

The eldest within the group let out an overly dramatic sigh, raking his hands through his hair. “The Christmas tree is not going anywhere,” he commented, “I don’t know what this rush is for.” 

“Just because you don’t care about Santa,” Sojung huffed, crossing his arms. “Maybe you’ve become old, Uncle Seungkwan.”

Your laughter could not drown out the scoff that escaped the accused-hag’s lips. “I’m gonna tell on you to Jinsoul.”

But the way the boy only chuckled, blowing mischievous raspberries at his dear uncle, cemented how seriously he took that threat. You watched him catch up to his sister, smiling the entire time. 

Seungkwan caught onto that. “Don’t encourage him.” 

“What?” your smile turned playful. “Scared he’s getting your attitude?”

“Uh, excuse me!” he started, “Firstly, I’d be the happiest man alive if he became like me. This sass is more from his mother.” 

You scoffed. “That was textbook Seungkwan behaviour. You’re just too conceited to realise.” 

“Conceited? Big words today, _____.”

You, however, were terribly unimpressed. “That is a normal, everyday word, Seungkwan. You should probably read a book.” 

“Enough now,” he said, raising a hand, “I’m goofy, not stupid.” Your hesitance in instantly agreeing with him had him gasping. “Oh my God, you think I’m an idiot!” 

“The fact you just clocked this proves my opinion even more,” you restated, shrugging to dig the blow deeper. “Sorry, buddy.” 

“Don’t ‘buddy’ me,” he immediately refuted, and you glanced at him, a slight irritation in his features. “I’ve made out with you enough times to deserve a better term.” 

The too-casual mention of it had you quickly scanning over the children, then glaring at him once you were satisfied by their ignorance. “Why did you say it like that?”

“What?” His earlier complaint had softened, slowly morphing into a smugness which made your lips twist, and—unfortunately—made your heartbeat quicken. “Did we not?”

You thought of the week when you first kissed him at the restaurant—the gentle touch of your lips against his, the remnants of vanilla gelato and victory prevalent on your tongues. Then, your mind caught onto the different webs of your memory, flashes of heated moments after that fateful night, mouths colliding and hands wandering in more appropriate times, in more private places. No nosy flatmate caught you two in your house, and no nosier boss disturbed you in the pantry room (thank you, said-nosier boss). Yes, you would have died if your past self learned of this newfound situation, but the bastard was good, and he knew how to make you breathless—through heated arguments and frenzied kisses. 

So yes, you did make out with him more times than you would like to admit in front of him. But amongst those nights, you found yourself enjoying his company outside of your workplace, and the two people who capitalised the most out of it were his niece and nephew. When they heard that you knew of a Santa who can hand free Cadbury bars out to them in Westfield shopping centre, they jumped at the idea—as if Christmas had arrived much early. 

The Santa they sought was finally seen, when, walking past another wave of shoppers, there she was, in all her stuffed-suited, fake-bearded glory, asking questions you could not hear as she shook their hand, or gently let them sit atop her padded lap. Santa caught sight of you and your group, and she smiled, quickly slipping the child she tended to a chocolate bar and waving them off. 

“Ho, ho, ho, motherfuckers!” was the beautiful greeting Santa offered in her unusually low, forced baritone, and you could not contain the slight crease of your shoulders as the parents nearby whirled their heads at the words. “Oh, damn, forgot other kids were waiting too.”

“I wonder how you got the job,” you mock wondered, which had the girl underneath the costume almost whacking you on the shoulder. Not very Santa-like, thus proving your point. 

Your bickering was cut short when Sohyun and Sojung appeared from behind you, looking at Julie with a growing anticipation. “You’re the Santa giving out free chocolate, right?” the former asked. 

“Ho, ho, ho! Yes, I am, kids!” your friend dug into her brown sack slugged beside her, fishing out the larger, classic flavour of the Cadbury bar, holding it out for the children. “Merry Christmas!” 

As Sohyun thanked her, taking the chocolate, Sojung only glanced at her, confusion staining his little face. “Hey, I thought Santa was a man.”

Julie, taken aback by the statement, fixed her beard, which began to slouch. “Anyone can be Santa!” 

“Yeah, but Santa’s an old man,” Sojung reasoned, crossing his arms. “You sound like you’re in your thirties.” 

“Thirties—” the girl’s usual chirp cut through, but then she coughed, realising she was about to argue with a child. Lowering her voice, she merely held out the Cadbury. “Just take the chocolate, little man.”

Seeing the treat was enough to quench his burning questions on Santa’s gender identity, quickly digging into the sweetness of the chocolate bricks. Julie threw you a look, which had you snickering, sneaking closer to her. 

“That was it?” Seungkwan asked, glancing at the line your friend had evoked. “People’ll do anything for free food—” 

He stopped, realising that Julie was trying to sneak you three Cadbury bars in your bag, and the sight of you feigning any sense of stealth had him clamping his lips together, trying to contain his laughter. 

“Have fun on your babysitting date,” she whispered to you, and you stuck your tongue out at her before turning to the said-date—because yes, this was supposed to be a date, but the children caught wind of their uncle meeting you, and begged him to talk to you. 

“Three?” he inquired, animating the number with his fingers. 

“Inflation’s hit us hard,” was your only excuse, but it was a measly one. Being a dessert chef meant possessing an infinite amount of chocolates in the pantry, ranging from every flavour created in the Italian peninsula. 

He said so himself. “You create desserts for a living. You see chocolate puddings more than your own parents.” 

“You can never have too much,” you sang out, and the children beside you hummed in agreement. “See? The council has spoken.” 

“I can’t disagree then.” Seungkwan turned to the council. “Now, Sohyun, Sojung…where do you guys want to go?” 

“Can we go to the toilet first?” Sojung clutched his stomach. “I think I ate the chocolate too quickly.” 

“I told you to eat it slowly!” Sohyun scolded, clicking her tongue. 

“You think you know the way?” his uncle asked, to which he nodded. “Sohyun, you walk with him. I don’t want you two running off alone, okay?” 

“We’ll be fine,” the girl said, waving off the concern. She clutched her brother’s arm, whose face twisted in pain the more time passed. “Come on, you idiot.” 

“Keep your phones on!” The man called after them as they walked to their destination, which, as the digital maps exposed, was not too far. 

As the children disappeared, you watched, concern rising. “I hope Sojung’s okay.” 

“He’ll be alright.” A roll of his eyes. “Unfortunately, the pigging out on things which’ll make him sick later is a trait he got from me.”

“So all the bad habits he has are from you then?” 

“Only some of them,” he admitted, which had you shaking your head. “Spend enough time with them, and they’ll learn your terrible ways, too.”

“Speak for yourself,” you snarked, “I am a perfect role model.”

“Role model, huh?” He took a step closer—as if he was not close already—and roamed his eyes over you, over a particular item of clothing. “Perfect role models don’t steal from their dates.” 

Your hands instinctively clutched the scarf—the red scarf which you had not returned since he engulfed you with its warmth weeks back. “It’s not stealing,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. “You’re the one who pretended to be a gentleman and gave it to me.”

“Okay then, I’ll give up the pretence.” Another step closer—a foot’s distance from you. “I’d like my scarf back.”

Realistically, you would have handed his precious scarf back without a fight. After all, it was his possession.

But today was cold, and the scarf was snug—warm. As welcoming as it had been when your head was wrapped around it. “It suits me more, though, don’t you think?” you taunted, fingers holding both ends of the fabric, the long, fringes dangling. “I rock it better, you have to admit.”

The man stared at you, taking in the words, washing over him. His hands reached out, snaking around your waist, and you had to calm your heart from beating out of your chest as he pulled you closer. 

If this was the beginning of the winter, he would have chosen cruel words, shatter the fantasy he thought was forming in front of his eyes. This was not a fantasy, though, far from it—you, who had been a thorn at his side since the moment he stepped into the restaurant, had blossomed into a flower, flourishing before him in a newfound light. 

He played along—not because it was not true, but because he believed the words that left his lips. “You do everything better than me.”

A sharp breath escaped you.

Never did you think a confession like that would ever come from Seungkwan. 

His pride was his great strength, but also a formidable weakness. It was his self-confidence, his arrogance, even, that contributed to his successes, and—most importantly—his long-lasting rivalry with you. His belief in his perfection, his being the best out of all, was what made him who he was. 

You guessed that he did not believe in it. Not anymore. 

Still, you did not accept it. “A very touching statement,” you began, sliding your arms around him, “But I’ll do you one better.” 

He shook his head. “God forbid you agree with me.”

You tilted your head back, gazing at him fully. “We’re equals, Seungkwan.”

He stared at you, widening his eyes as you continued. “Equal partners in our work, equal chefs in our creations…what I do, you do the same. It’s why we argued, and never won. One could not defeat the other…no matter how much we tried. Maybe we were meant to stay in this stalemate, you know?” 

You smiled at him—your partner in the kitchen, your partner-in-crime. “It’s our losses in the restaurant, I believe, that brought us together in the end…and that, for me at least, is a win.” 

Seungkwan felt his very nerves spark to life. 

Come alive with a veracity akin to a rocket ship blasting fire from its ends, firing off to the universe beyond. He had experienced appreciation, passion, perhaps even tenderness—what you said to him in a shopping mall in a corner of London was extraordinary.

He tightened his grip at your sides, his expression starry-eyed. “You really think that?” 

You melted into his hold, sneaking closer. “If I didn’t think it, Seungkwan, I wouldn’t say it.” 

His heart ballooned in his chest, threatening to burst at the seams of his skin. He could not help himself, leaning in to press his lips against yours, and you welcomed him with open arms, closing in around him. You were unable to stop, curling your lips upwards at the sensation because happiness swirled in your stomach, fluttering uncontrollably, moreso because it was Boo Seungkwan who caused it—Boo Seungkwan, who was the catalyst to your butterflies. 

Before he could go further, you remembered where you were, breaking away from his lips. His sudden murmur from the pull-away had you giggling, cheeks tinged rosy from the confession. 

Your laughter, like little wind chimes singing in a spring breeze, had him speaking from the heart. “I couldn’t do this job with anyone else, you know…working together, what’s come out of it…” His stare had your heartbeat uneasy. “You’re the only one I trust.” 

Although your face warmed at the words, you grinned cheekily at him. “Of course you would. Who else would you rely on? Jeonghan?” 

“...a very fair point.” 

Chucking, his hold on you strayed, one hand remaining. “Now, ______,” he began, sliding his hand over to your own, interlocking his fingers. “After the kids come back, where do you wanna eat? I’m starving.”

“I’m down for anything,” you said, tapping your fingers against the back of his hand. “But if I have to eat another Italian dessert for the next week I’m causing a massacre in the restaurant.”

“So the usual tiramisu with whipped cream on the side, then?” he offered, which had you squeezing his hand. “What? I’m not ungrateful like you. I like to eat anything.” 

“Says the one who said he’d shrivel and die if he had to eat almond amarettis for the second time.” 

“That’s different!” he tried to explain, “I nearly choked on one doing the trialling.” 

You swung your intertwined hands. “All I hear is weak-ass excuses, Seungkwan!” 

“At least I’m not advocating on adding grass to my pannacottas,” he muttered, starting to walk forwards.

You halted him, furrowing your eyebrows. “For the last time, they’re bay leaves!” 

“Yeah, which shouldn’t be on my desserts!” 

“Okay, don’t add them to your shitty sweets, then,” you crowed, “Cause I’m suffocating my pannacottas in them.”

His eyes began to glimmer, and you realised that he successfully baited you into irritation. “Maybe I spoke too soon on trusting you with my life in the kitchen,” he teased, but you groaned, prying your hand from his. “Hey, hey, okay, maybe bay leaves aren’t the worst garnish known to man!” 

“And maybe I’m going back to counting and laughing at your losses,” you snapped, but Seungkwan was laughing, and your cheeks were burning. “One more laugh out of that big mouth of yours, and I’m throwing mascarpone cream at you. Maybe this time we’ll finally be fired.” 

He stopped in your tracks, making you pause your stomping away. “I’d like to see you try,” he dared, and when you looked back at him, the challenge rising in your gaze, he felt his soul come alive. 

You knew it too. “Don’t tempt me, Seungkwan. I’ll win this time.”

And as he leaned in, crossing his arms and staring you down, you held your ground, providing no room to give in. His proud smirk had you remembering the old days—and not grimacing. “Famous last words.”

A scoff was the rest of the conversation, but the showdown of your eyes, locked with his, was not over.

Yes, you both may have grown a mutual respect, even developed a fondness—but you were you and Seungkwan was Seungkwan. Perhaps battling it out with a man you rather liked would consequently make shouting at him a little easier.

As you mirrored his arrogant expression, the two of you knew that the kitchen had yet to see more battles. 

Well—there was always the spring menu. Let the petty rivalry (laced with just a slight touch of affection) begin once more. 

[bkd-b3ans]

You try to repair a watch, Boothill is being annoying as usual, you end up discovering his neurolink perfectly mimics human emotions.

-> Ship: Boothill X Mechanic!Reader (or just tech savvy idk the term really)

-> Rating: Safe for All

-> TL;DR: Boothill visits you after closing hours, nearly ruins a 5 million watch repair commission, stares for a bit too long while you work and overheats for a bit, ends up learning you live above your own workshop and you learn he gets flustered easy.

-> Extra notes: No idea where I will go with these, I just love writing stuff. Next one is going to be more about touching / feeling, but until then, you too can experience casual chatter. I do not proof read, whatever is written is in accordance to Ellios script, go meow at him. Take this "2nd" part as pure world-building.

-> Word count: 2k~ ish

-> First part: here

Thank you for reading and bearing with my awful English. If you have any prompts I would be more than happy to hear them.

"Pardner? Yoohooo~" Boothill was waving his arm like a manic from the front of the counter, trying to catch your attention, but you were too engrossed in your work, tinkering away with some expensive watch you were paid to fix, the tiny gears and springs neatly organized in your table in tiny boxes with labels, while you were hunched over the table, looking through a magnifying glass and listening to music, tongue almost sticking out like some cartoon character while you were trying to place the gear in its place carefully using some precise tweezers.

For all you cared, your shop was closed for the day, so why would anyone in their right mind, or that knows how to read a sign, would even bother you? Of course you didn't take into account a Galaxy Ranger that had a passion for annoying you at random times.

"Psst, hey, over 'ere..." he sighed, "Fudge this". Impatient as ever, Boothill just helped himself with one of the expensive motor oil cans in the counter and stepped around it, taking off his hat and placing it on your head.

The whole motion made you jump out of your skin, dropping the tweezers together with the very important, one of a kind gear, that you could barely notice while it was on your table, let alone on your floor, rolling off into the void like all of the pens you've lost throughout the years.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MY FUCKING WORK OF MY AEONS-" you took off the hat annoyed, hand still shaking from the scare and heart running laps in your chest. Shoving the hat into Boothills chest, you couldn't help but be angry at the man, sighing.

"Damn sugar-cube, didn't know ye were this jumpy. Ye should be more aware of yer surroundings you know?"

"What the hell does that mean. MY SHOP IS CLOSED BOOTHILL, CAN'T YOU READ??"

"Well, not your language no, it's all a bunch of jumbles and lines"

You looked confused for a moment before realizing that neither of you were from the same planet. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, trying to get rid of your furrow.

"Just, shut up and help me look for that gear. AND PUT THE DAMN CAN DOWN"

He raised his arms in defeat, putting down the can of motor oil and looking around your workbench while you were painfully looking for the gear with your magnifying glasses.

"Lotta' shiny pieces you have on the table. Are these really more important than your good old buddy, Boothill?"

"Unless you're willing to give me 5 million, then yes"

Boothill choked

"5 million?? For some beautiful watch?"

"What can I say, some people have more than they know what to do with. Now stop yapping and get on your knees, I can't see shit."

"Is that an invitation, darling?"

"... BOOTHILL!"

"Aye aye, don't get your feathers ruffled like this darling, just sit there and be pretty"

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

You couldn't help but be annoyed still, slumped in your chair, fiddling with your pen, while Boothill was looking around. How long has it been already, maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days??? Your work couldn't wait that much, and each ticking second felt agonizing. You were so close too, getting interrupted was the last thing you needed right now. You always had plans, a schedule, deadlines, you couldn't afford the unpredictability that is Boothill sometimes.

You almost got too lost in your thoughts before you heard a sudden thud, metal against wood, and a proud exclamation.

"Here it is sugar-cube, your pretty little thing... Cogwheel whatever. Now can you stop looking like someone spat in your food or do I need to repair this watch myself to make you happy?"

You could swear sometimes he was like a dog, a big doberman. For as scary as he could look sometimes, you couldn't help but be unable to push him away. All you could do was just let out an amused scoff, taking the gear piece in the palm of your hand, and gently placing it in it's box.

"No, no, you've done enough damage already. Why are you here even?"

"Just wanted to pay my best buddy a visit? What, a man can't do that no more?"

"No fixing your body? No maintenance work? Really nothing? Just a visit? Odd, thought you were a busy man"

"Oh I sure am sugar-cube, but sometimes even I need to sit down and relax."

"... In my workshop"

"In yer workshop, yes."

You sighed

"Fine, fine, stay for as long as you need, but don't touch anything that is in this-" you motion around your workbench "general area"

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment

"Aye aye, I'll stay put, fudge me, you can be very serious sometimes."

"5 million"

"Right yes, that's understandable."

You went back to work, trying to finish placing the last pieces inside that damned watch, headphones back on your ears. Boothill was simply slumped on the couch you kept around the waiting area, that barely saw any use to begin with. He was just looking around, bored out of his mind, the silence really starting to get to him. On occasion he's throw you glances, looking like a kicked puppy only to be met by your back either way. Yet he couldn't help but notice the few tics you had, tapping your foot, humming to yourself from time to time, arranging your hair by shaking your head around, and just how damn beautiful you looked in that dim warm light.

By no means we're you prettied up and groomed, after all, working with machinery all day will just lead to one always being covered by oil or sutt, clothes messy, the tools around your belt loud and heavy, but to him, it was part of the charm. The passion you had for what you did, the care you treated everything with, even his own body when it needed repairs. Sure, you two may butt heads more often than goats, but you were the reason he kept making his trips back to your workshop for any needs. He trusted you, felt comfort in your presence.

He could feel his insides start to heat up, his mind trailing off. Sure, he couldn't blush for the love of him, after all blood stopped flowing through his body long, long ago, but his body still reacted from time to time to strong emotions, and now it was no different. It felt, uncomfortable almost, a strange emptiness in his metal gut. Maybe it was the bullets he snacked in like some chips, or maybe it was more than that. He just simply pulled his hat over his eyes to focus and calm down.

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

Finally, after so many hours, you were finally done, the watch ticking gleefully, almost as if happy with it's new look. You sighed in relief, finally placing down your headphones and slumping in your chair, pulling your glasses up.

"Finally... I swear they are trying to drive me insane with all these new 'trinkets' that have way too many small pieces for their own good. How you holding up, Boots?"

"Fine as ever sugar, bored out of my mind, but rested"

"Yeah, I can see that, you've already made a dent in my couch"

"Hey, I helped ya find that gear for free, can't I get some more respect"

"And who's fault was it that I dropped it?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Aye aye, sorry 'bout that."

There was a moment of pause

"Say, partner, you've messed around inside my body for a while now. Do you know if there's any functions that might mimic proper human emotions?"

"Human emotions? Hmmm"

You thought for a moment, trying to remember if you've seen any kind of code that might do that.

"I don't think I've seen anything like that, but I've also never like, actually paid attention. There may be some functions that mimic that, after all, you might need them to think and work properly. Why?"

"Ah, nothing important, was just wondering."

"I can always check if you want. Of course, for a price"

He couldn't help but scoff, amused "You were never free eh?"

"Someone has to eat"

"Sure, sure. I mean why not, might as well get this mystery solved, since I'm here and have nothing better to do."

"Then come with me"

You both went inside your garage, Boothill already used to all the steps, laying down on the weird table chair as he put it while you connected the cables to the back of his neck, opening the hologram screens.

"Let's see..." you rubbed your chin, pacing around while moving around screens, trying to find anything remotely similar to what Boothill mentioned, but it was rather hard. Every line kept changing dictating different functions every moment.

"Hmm...."

"Anything the matter?"

"No, I just realized why I might have never seen that kind of function. Your neurolink is adapting to everything you do, so it's changing constantly. I think the only way to spot anything us to trigger whatever made you so curious about your 'emotions'"

"Trigger em? And how the fork do you plan on doing that?"

You thought for a moment, moving next to Boothill, dragging the screens along with you. You didn't really give a warning as you poked his chest with a screwdriver, noticing some changes.

"What in the beautiful sky are you doing?"

"There it is" you just pointed at the screen at the suddenly changing lines.

"Your body reacts to your mental state. Right now you are confused"

"I sure as warm lake I am, you're poking me around with a screwdriver."

"What else would have you wanted me to do? Touch you with my own hands?"

He was about to say something, but you grabbed one of the screens, squinting at it.

"Getting flustered, Boots?" You could almost feel your own smug smile forming on your face.

"Flustered? Please, you'd think I'd get 'flustered' from just a check-up?"

"Bashful... Interesting"

"Hey! Stop saying things and answer me, sweetheart"

"And annoyed. Yeah, you do seem to have those functions, and they're damn advanced to mimic human emotions. Guess you aren't just metal after all. You still have the ability to feel. It's interesting how this changes..."

You got too focused on the lines of code, not paying attention to how you started leaning against the table, your hand extremely close to Boothills, fingers almost touching. Sure, you were just staring at the lines changing, but Boothill was staring at your hand, annoyed almost that he couldn't just grab it, only to be confused over why he was annoyed. You just chuckled to yourself and pushed the screen away, unplugging the cables.

"Well, mystery solved, your neurolink functions exactly like a brain and it sends the proper signals, so your body will be affected by your emotions."

"Great-" he rolled his eyes, standing up and scratching the back of his head "You need a new table, this one is forking uncomfortable."

"I don't take feedback"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say darling." he just hopped off the table, adjusting his hat.

"H-"

"1k credits"

"Damn, let me finish at least. Fine, you know the drill"

"Nah, I'll let it slide this time. Getting to check your internals can be fun sometimes" you patted his back

"I'll go home, unless you want to guard my shop, you should leave too."

"You don't just live in your workshop??"

"...what...?"

"You know, like, I've always only seen you here, where is your home even."

"Oh... Oh! I guess you can say that? My home is upstairs, I bought the whole building when I opened so everything on the ground floor is the shop, upstairs is my place."

"Ok that makes sense... Can I-"

"No"

"Fine fine, I'll go my merry way then. I'll see you next time partner, and thank you for the free check-up"

"Don't get too used to them"

He nodded, tipping his hat and leaving.

[tragikomizm]

art student!touya headcanons bc why not can you tell that i love artsy people?

tw: smoking and getting high, touya is a loser but we all already know that

──────────────────────

touya had no idea what to do with himself after high school. he chose studying art, because it seemed to be easy lmao he also really wanted to piss of endeavor

after college he wants to be a tattoo artist (who’s surprised?)

touya who’s working at your local record store and always trying to start a conversation with you about the albums you buy. in his head, he has a whole ass plan to make you swoon but, in reality, all he manages to do is asking you if you like this band and recommending you some new music he thinks you might like

you giggle everytime he stumbles over his words and thank him, assuring you’ll check out his recommendations. and oh boyy he’s whipped. he even started thinking that maybe you are trying to seduce him

he literally doesn’t know the difference between being simply friendly and flirting. he’s delusional, he’s stupid

(he rejected so many people that were hitting on him, because he thought they were just being nice to him. but with you, oh that’s a different story)

you and touya met through keigo who was done with listening touya talk about his pretty customer. you’ll probably never forget his face when he realized his best friend is also friends with his crush

after that you two started talking more. he’s still so painfully awkward, because this man has no idea how to talk to you

bold over text, super awkward in person. that’s it

before keigo introduced you to him, touya only annoyed takami with his constant monologue about you. but now? everyone falls his victim. his roommate? shigaraki got too many warnings about way too high volume on his headphones and he still can hear touya’s yapping. his family? shouto and natsuo start throwing at touya every object that just happens to be near them, whenever your name leaves their big brothers lips. fuyumi just asks him when he’s gonna ask you out and he shuts up as fast as he opened his mouth. and his coworkers? spinner daily fights the urge to get high before work but he doesn’t want to get fired, so he’s forced to keep up with touya sober. the only person that enjoys his yapping is toga, which isn’t very surprising, really. she forces touya to listen to her talk about ochako in exchange tho

and don’t even get me started on his drawings. his sketchbook is filled with you. every. single. page. he doodles you every time he gets ahold of something that can write

“todoroki, for the love of god, could you stop drawing your girlfriend on my desk?” keigo showed you that doodle. at some point he also told you about touya’s crush on you. he’ll complain about touya’s constantly running mouth, but he’s a noisy bitch as well. a match made in hell

you often bump into touya at random parties keigo or rumi take you to. and everytime that happens you two decide to leave your friends and go on a side quest. later you need to explain to your friends why they can’t find you anywhere at the party. you should’ve informed them beforehand but in touya’s presence it’s easy to forget about the surrounding you world

especially, when he finally gets comfortable with you. there’s so many topics he wants to discuss with you, he literally can’t shut his mouth. you might never get a chance to kiss him

takes you with him whenever he goes making graffiti. cmon he would do that

touya secretly wishes you would model for him. but he will never admit to that

deep late night talks while sharing a cig or blunt? god please. all you have to do is text him that you found this new spot with a cool view and he’s already under your window

he invites you over to listen to the new cd he bought. he collects cds argue with the wall. he’ll be also very offended if you don’t invite him over to listen to the album you bought

don’t worry he’ll get over it quickly, he’ll be very petty about it tho

at first, when you asked him if you could see his art he refused. he’s shy yk. especially considering the fact that most of his sketches are of you. touya eventually showed you his art when you told him about that doodle on keigos desk. he ghosted you for hours after that, because he thought you’ll make fun of him </33

has like 5 different playlists made for you. all consisting different music genres and for different occasions. one is full of songs you recommended him. other is filled with songs that remind him of you. you guys also share a playlist, which is a mix of your favorite songs and is a total chaos

touya doesn’t have a license or his own car (duh), so when he asks you if you’re up for a ride it means that you’re going to drive and he’ll just sit there, looking pretty and play music

getting high with touya is… interesting. he gets really clingy and all philosophical. so many what if questions. rumi has a couple of videos of your conversations from the times you two got high at your place. she says she’s going to play them at your wedding

“hear me out on beetlejuice” high off his ass touya, after you came up with a genius idea of watching beetlejuice

touya keeps complaining about you spending more time at the store and distracting him but we all know he doesn’t mind. maybe expect those moments when you talk shit about him with toga and spinner

you also have a bet if those two teenagers that keep having dates at the store will end up together. you think that the blonde boy has a chance, while touya well… he says that the girl’s to cool for this guy

if you two can’t meet, he’ll just call instead. probably on some ungodly hour, because his sleeping schedule is nonexistent. will insist on not hanging up when you want to go to sleep. he promises that he’ll end the call, since he’s going to stay up a little bit longer. and he always forgets about that. one time you got woken up by rei, trying to get touya out of bed

he definitely had planned the first kiss. the thing is — he never had a chance to use his plan. mostly because he was waiting for the perfect moment. you were the one who kissed him. during one of your many late night rides, while you were sitting in your car in some empty parking lot. he was talking about something, you can’t remember what it was, his eyes shining as he was explaining, streetlamps light falling on his face and making him look even prettier then usual. if it was even possible, because it’s touya we’re talking about, the pretty boy cmon. you almost felt bad about interrupting him. but he didn’t seem to mind when he practically crushed you between him and your cars door

after that he thanked you, like he didn’t took your breath away a second ago

so many handmade gifts !!!

art museum dates. holding hands, talking about your favorite artists and pieces, standing in front of the artwork and discussing its meaning, touya explaining you different techniques. either that or pointing at the weirdest medieval animals and saying “you”

i said that once and i’ll say it again. he’s your trained photographer

he’ll also gladly turn into your editor

will touch you on purpose if his hands are dirty from painting. annoying bastard

definitely will become your human canvas if you’ll get bored and want to draw on him. touya will try his best not to wash it down during shower. he might even skip shower, who knows

obviously, touya has piercings and tattoos because it’s touya

and yes, he lets you color his tattoos, duh

──────────────────────

no way i finally wrote sth (nobody gives a shit girl)

im working on sth a little bigger i promise

yes i sneaked a little togachako here can you blame me?

and yes thats jirou and denki, they have record store dates

projecting as always im trying to manifest a bf thru this silly posts

or a crush at least

btw touya and keigo definitely made out at some point im just sayin

[jemjams02]

Mammon Relationship Stuff :p

no gender/genitals mentioned! contains NSFW

thank u anon for making me remember I have free will and can gnaw at my enclosure while Mammon stands on the other side of the bars, visibly afraid

Mammon constantly has his hands on you. He HAS to be touching you; a hand on the hip, arm around the shoulders, hand in the back pocket, etc. If it's not his hands, it's his whole body, he'll press against you just to feel you there

Speaking of hands, Mammon's are pretty! Perfectly manicured, and with many rings on his fingers. He often gives you one of his rings to wear! An innocent gesture in your eyes, but to him, it's just practice for when he gives you your own special ring (wink wink)

He can't say no to you. You don't even have to give him any puppy-dog eyes, he'll do pretty much anything the first time you ask! He's absolutely whipped for you, and would kill someone if you asked.

If he could, he would whisk you away to a secluded place forever. He wants you all to himself! He can't help his greed, ESPECIALLY when it comes to you. Anything you're willing to give him, he'll take and take, and sometimes he just wishes you could give him and only him your attention.

Not a sharer, and will consistently invite himself to your plans (especially the ones with his brothers). He has to make sure nobody tries to steal you away!

NSFW

Sex with Mammon happens almost every night, he honestly doesn't sleep very well without you bouncing on his cock for at least an hour before bed

Desperate to make you cum, whether it's in his mouth/on his face, on his cock, or inside him. He needs it, he's greedy for your pleasure, and sometimes will ignore his own hard-on to work your sex until you're crying and begging for him to fuck you properly

LOVES having you sit pretty on his cock! He loves using his demonic strength to push and pull you up and down his shaft; sometimes slow and teasing, and sometimes he bounces you on his cock with reckless abandon, loving the way you writhe and shake in his grip at his merciless pace.

LOUD LOUD LOUD this man cannot shut up once he's got you in his bed. If he's not yapping, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. You just feel so good!!! Constant streams of praise and compliments fall from his lips as you squeeze around him just right

Master of aftercare, he just needs a second to breathe. If you're up for it, he'll run a bath and soak with you for a while as he uses a warm washcloth on your more sensitive areas

Biter, absolutely a menace. Since Mammon made you his, you don't walk around without a few dozen marks on your body at any given time, it looks like you were attacked by a pack of wild dogs

Likes dressing you up all pretty for him, only to tear whatever cute lingerie/underwear he bought you to shreds. Likes seeing makeup get ruined by your tears as he makes you cum for the upteenth time, and he WILL have you wear jewelry (and only jewelry), his favorite color on you is gold, obviously

LOVES cumming inside, it fills him with a sense of satisfaction to see his cum filling you. He's claimed you, inside and out,

[bitchslapblastoids]

Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!

To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!

Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little

(original post referenced) yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.

when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3

2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.

for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)

the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.

their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.

every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.

When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.

dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.

that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.

you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR: 29. YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?

WARNiNGS » profanity, ynhoon flirting, talks of love, drinking, yap central x round table realness, food, oh yeah and not proofread

wc: 3.7k

episode desc - beep beep! welcome back to another episode of yap central, today we are joined by a special guest, round table!! in todays episode we start off very light hearted and talk about the difference between a girl doing a thirst trap and a guy doing a thirst trap (there’s a lot) then we get a bit deeper and talk about love in this new generation and if it’s truly lost its meaning. to end the episode off we talk about our icks in FRIENDSHIPs. hope you enjoyed your stay with us today, till next time!

*the typical group is sat in the room, this time with four more mics and two big two seater couches. there’s clearly some empty space while they wait to invite their guests in. jungwon adjusts the sound board. everyone is dressed casually instead of a themed outfit. some of them are on their phones while riki and kat are talking about something that the mic can’t pic up.*

jungwon: hey can someone test out one of those mics, i just need to check. 

yn: i got it *you get up from your seat and walk over to one of the couches, taking a seat and speaking into the mic*

jungwon: okay great 

giselle: oh they just texted that they’re here 

yn: oh fun! *you stand up, sitting back down in your original seat.*

sunoo: oh i hear footsteps 

kat: i think [BLEEP] is stomping- oh no i said his name 

*the five of you groan, giselle shaking her head knowing she’ll have to edit it*

jungwon: you know you can come in right! *jungwon laughs at his stance as he waits at the door, peeping in then fully opening it revealing jay, jake, heeseung and sunghoon coming in one by one. they’re laughing as they sit. heeseung and sunghoon sit at the couch closest to yn and jake and jay sit at the couch closest to jungwon.* 

heeseung: cannot believe people thought the special guest was blackpink

riki: maybe that would’ve been better than you grandpa 

*heeseung gasps, causing a chain reaction of laughter to emerge from the group.*

jay: see i told you guys, he wouldn’t last a minute without making a heeseung old joke

sunoo: he barely could in the group chat. 

giselle: it’s okay you’re not insanely old. well i mean you are but 

heeseung: gee thanks..

giselle: anytime!

jake: who’s hosting today? *he looks around to the six of you*

kat: i actually am, should i sign us in? if everyone is good

jungwon: take it away

sunghoon: we’re also all good here

kat: beep beep you’ve arrived in yap central and i am your host for today kat, to my left we have..

riki: riki

yn: yn *you wave to the camera, sunghoon smiles at you softly*

sunghoon: uhh sunghoon 

heeseung: heeseung!!

jake: jake

jay: jay

jungwon: jungwon *he makes a peace sign at the camera, riki meows*

giselle: giselle

sunoo: and sunoo! 

kat: obviously if you can’t tell we are joined by round table today, our surprise guests

sunghoon: and we are not blackpink, as much as jake would like us to be

jake: i’m just saying if we did a cover of shut down it would EAT you have to see the vision

sunoo: none of you can pull off mother like jisoo can. 

jay: okay let’s be serious the real star of that group is jennie 

kat: rude, lisa is so iconic. money?? lalisa? rockstar?? NEW WOMAN?

jay: you’ve made your point *he rolls his eyes earning a smirk from kat, sitting back satisfied*

yn: i think they all shine in their own way

sunghoon: i think we can ALL sing

*everyone laughs, including you. sunghoon glances at you as if for approval and smiled, laughing along with you*

kat: okay! first question! what are some differences between a guy and a girl doing a thirst trap 

*heeseung snorts, causing sunghoon to side eye him. it was unspoken between them but he knew what he was laughing at*

jungwon: first of all when a guy does it it’s just a bit icky 

yn: okay well since there’s a majority of men here, raise your hand if you’ve thirst trapped 

*jungwon and riki raise their hands first. then followed by jake and heeseung. you look to sunghoon who simply smiles at you*

sunghoon: what?

yn: come on raise your hand hoon

sunghoon: don’t know what you’re talking about 

yn: you’re gonna do this? here? 

*kat and sunoo make eyes at each other then look to you two*

sunghoon: i don’t think ive ever thirst trapped 

*you rolled your eyes and leaned over, grabbing his hand and raising it high.*

yn: thank you, now what my point is that every man thirst traps, but it’s how you do it that’s different 

jungwon: to defend myself it was in highschool 

giselle: see anything a man does i automatically hate so you’re asking the wrong person

jake: im not gonna lie ive seen some men pull off a sexy thirst trap 

*riki furrows his brows at his sentence and the two of you make eye contact, bursting out laughing*

jake: okay im sensing im being made fun of 

jay: surprised your spidey sense are working

jake: can you not?? 

sunoo: i sort of agree with jake but not in that weird way he put it, like some guys can pull off a thirst trap

giselle: i think what icks me out is like guys intentions behind the thirst traps 

heeseung: some guys are very weird with it 

riki: girls aren’t really safe from that either 

yn: no i agree, but guys are more guilty of it 

kat: well now hold on. everyone here has thirst trapped and you’ve done it for reasons that are weird, that’s normal 

giselle: can i simply hate on a man in peace?

sunoo: girl fuck you

jungwon: i think unanimously it’s decided that some guys go about thirst traps weirdly 

kat: i agree with that actually 

riki: guys are just weird as fuck sometimes 

yn: the funniest ones are the ones on tiktok where it’s like #04 #latino #fyp 

kat: those get me everytime 

heeseung: it’s so corny because you know they watched it back and were like “this is the one”

jay: ladies gon loveeeee this

*the group laughs at heeseung and jays back to back joke, the two of them fist bumping*

giselle: i just personally think when a girl thirst traps its so much more elegant 

jake: you act like girls can’t do it in a weird way either

yn: they can but most of the time man make it weird 

sunoo: they both have valid points 

heeseung: i support women’s rights.. but more importantly i support woman’s wrongs 

*jay glances at heeseung then bursts out laughing, riki following along as the rest of you broke into laughter*

kat: oh my god when he said i hate periods in the group chat that got me 

heeseung: i felt bad!!!

sunghoon: what gets me is he texted our group chat a couple hours after saying he was embarrassed

riki: because he’s old?

heeseung: only four years bro

riki: one foot in the grave too grand pappy 

*sunoo and giselle attempt to hold back their laughter but fail when jake looks at them and laughs along*

yn: you’re never letting him rest 

riki: the other three fools are next your [BLEEP] isn’t safe either

*giselle laughs as you slap riki’s arm and sunghoon giggles slightly. it wasn’t very hard to tell what was bleeped out*

kat: so next question i take it?

yn: please before i kill him

riki: don’t threaten me with a good time

jake: this kid is funny as fuck *spoken in between laughs*

kat: so as we’re all well aware there’s a new generation after gen z, my question is how does this day and age affect love and has love lost its meaning since maybe shakespeare era?

riki: heeseung would know

heeseung: now this is bullying

jungwon: *he rolls his eyes at riki then looks to kat to gesture her to continue talking*

kat: *she nods and closes her phone* what i mean is that do you think that love now and love back then is different. like do you think you could find a jane austen love in a 2024 relationship?

sunoo: i mean ive never been in love so i couldn’t tell you 

riki: same 

kat: okay then a show of hands who has been in love. 

*everyone except jake, riki, and sunoo raise their hands*

kat: then you guys who raised their hands, do you think it was true love or do you think you conditioned yourself into thinking it was. 

sunghoon: me personally i don’t think i was ever truly in love, it sounds bad but i think i sort of said it because i was obligated to? like i felt like i couldn’t be in a real relationship without saying that we were in love. 

heeseung: it’s kind of the opposite for me.. i was in love with her like i can say we were in love. 

jungwon: in sunghoons case i can see what kat means. i think some people don’t know what love is anymore. 

giselle: it’s so conditioned in people’s heads that love has to be this bond that can never be broken and just everlasting but sometimes it really isn’t like that. love is hard to overcome and some couples never make it to that stage no matter how long they’ve been together 

sunoo: that was poetic giselle *he smiles at her softly causing her to smile and nod as well*

jake: can i be honest? i feel like ill never fall in love. 

jungwon: cmon don’t say that 

kat: i promise it’ll come towards you when you least expect it. 

jake: it’s not like im incapable of love, i just think that it’s hard to realize if it’s just love or something else? i’ve been in relationships but i guess i never got to feel that 

jay: it’s hard to pinpoint like i really couldn’t tell you. 

heeseung: love is like.. that inescapable feeling you have with someone. it’s sometimes left unspoken, kinda just a sigh from them and you can tell how they’re feeling. 

giselle: it’s the little things as corny as it sounds, it doesn’t even have to be romantic sometimes but you could feel like comfort with them. 

*whilst heeseung and giselle talk, sunghoons looking at you. it seems a million thoughts are going through his head and he looks down at his hands, then to you again. there’s this look in eyes, admiration? hard to pinpoint. riki’s eyes shift between you and sunghoon and he smiles at how he looks at you. he then looks away*

yn: bottom line is, no matter how much you feel like you’ll never experience love you will and it’ll be so worth the wait. 

jake: thanks guys, i kinda needed to hear that. 

riki: i still wanna experience a shakespeare or jane austen kind of love

sunoo: okay look at you not being mysterious. 

*riki rolls his eyes and smiles softly* 

yn: as much as people want to say that love back then was dramatized i don’t think it was. i would want someone to fight for my love, to overcome every obstacle thrown at us and be equally as in love with me as i am with them 

kat: i agree, i mean we’ve talked about how unequal love just never works out. 

jay: recipe for disaster, i think shakespearean love is beautiful. 

giselle: it’s not even the picture perfect representation of love but it shows how far people are willing to go for someone they feel so true to. 

sunghoon: is it weird to say i’m almost.. jealous of it? 

jungwon: no, not at all. i mean i am too 

sunoo: i am too honestly, it’s kind of one of those things that keeps me up at night 

jake: i would give a lot up to experience a kind of love like that 

yn: i think anyone would 

*there was a silence amongst the group, a couple of you made eye contact and started laughing.*

heeseung: i didn’t know what else to say

jay: i kinda need to use the bathroom… *sunghoon glances his way only to laugh at him*

kat: that is perfect because i was gonna announce a break anyways 

sunoo: i was gonna go get water jay so ill show you where the bathroom is

*both jay and sunoo get up, pushing their mics out of the way so they can go*

giselle: wait can you get me my red bull sunoo! *sunoo gives her a thumbs up as they both leave the room, talking about something that the mics can’t pick up*

jake: wait you guys have red bull

jungwon: we have a lot, do you want something i can text sunoo

jake: no no it’s okay *its clear on his face that he does want something, he’s just too embarrassed to say it*

kat: we can tell you want something spit out

jake: i could use a kool aid jammer… *mumbling*

jungwon: okay ill text him, was that so hard?

*jake shakes his head no, making heeseung giggle at him. currently everyone is scrolling on their phones, checking their notifications since they couldn’t earlier.*

kat: did you guys see chilis is closing down?

riki: oh my fucking god don’t bro i’m gonna cry

heeseung: why is chili's closing down when the real enemy is burger king

jungwon: i’ve been saying that for years 

giselle: oh i need me a triple dipper real bad

jake: *groans* those fucking mozzarella sticks

yn: they started saucing those babies up 

jake: i am so picking up chilis on the way home

heeseung: can we stop and eat there because you’re taking me home today 

jake: i’ll place an order right fuckin now 

kat: there’s a chilis right down the corner here and it is so heavenly 

jungwon: most rundown place ever but when i tell you the food is life changing i mean it 

jake: really? because usually i would go to the one in LA but that one is so busy all the time 

riki: yeah like there’s barely anyone and it’s just right down the corner

yn: i might go too honestly 

jungwon: okay wait i’ll go with you 

sunghoon: should we all just go after this

riki: i’ll place a fat one on your lips right now bro

sunghoon: excuse me?

giselle: YES let’s go after recording 

jake: i need to try those sauced up mozz sticks

*jay and sunoo enter the rooms again, sunoo giving jake his kool aid jammer and giselle her red bull*

jungwon: we’re all gonna go to chilis after this

sunoo: god bless

jay: i’ve never been to chilis 

*theres a couple gasps and riki side eyes him with a nasty look. heeseung furrows his brows then looks at jay*

heeseung: he’s fucking lying because yes you have

jay: i literally haven’t 

heeseung: my mom took us after we lost the lacrosse game in like 6th grade

jay: how the fuck am i supposed to remember that bro

sunghoon: that lacrosse game was so messy 

sunoo: you know you look like you would lose at lacrosse 

jay: in my defense there was some dirty shit going down there

yn: at a middle school lacrosse game? *you tried stifling a laugh but jungwon laughing set it off for the rest of you*

heeseung: don’t get him started

jay: will you shut up? no i SWEAR someone was setting me up because i had that match in the palm of my hand

jake: it’s been like 15 years bro 

jay: oh yet you can’t shut up about your senior year basketball match

jake: THE LAST FUCKIN MINUTE AND THAT DIPSHIT MISSED THE BASKET  *he yells, pointing at heeseung*

jungwon: senior year was so rough the same thing happened 

riki: no im so blessed you fucked up senior year so after you i could like messi after you graduated 

kat: i love when men start plotting against each other

yn: i know they’re doing the work for me 

sunghoon: weren’t you the one who told me about your videography club incident 

*you slap his arm, making him laugh aloud and giselle looks at you with furrowed brows*

yn: i told you in confidence can you not! 

giselle: waittt you didn’t tell us this

riki: oh my god the story is so fucking funny

yn: i am not saying it front of the camera 

*sunghoon starts humming the theme of boyfriend by big time rush, making you slap his arm once more*

sunoo: chilis, you have to tell us

yn: fine i will *you side eye sunghoon who only grins at you, making you laugh*

giselle: im already dreaming of my order 

jake: i am going to murder that triple dipper bro 

jungwon: okay let’s not talk about it or else ill want to sign out and go right now

kat: good for you i have one more question and it’s pretty short. so you know what are your icks in friendships 

yn: okay thank god because i am like i have a list i swear. *you sit up, sitting criss cross on the couch.* one big thing for me is a girl who just always needs a guy in her life 

giselle: *groans* ohhhh my god it is so frustrating 

kat: like talking to a girl who just always thinks of a man is so annoying because she is worth so much more than that

riki: lowkey [BLEEP] is like that

*sunoo and jungwon look at each other, the 6 of you bursting out in laughter. heeseung snickers a little*

heeseung: she was in my dms like last week

jake: oh my god i remember 

sunoo: i thought she was with [BLEEP]? 

yn: noooo i think it’s casual sex 

sunghoon: *he elbows heeseung, giggling* you wanna slide in there

heeseung: worry about you and [BLEEP] bro 

*everyone laughs at heeseungs comment, giselle knowing there’s so much she has to edit out*

sunoo: i think having a friend who can never have a deep conversation like for the life of them

jay: it’s so hard to talk to people like that, it’s like a conversation can’t go surface level 

yn: talking to yeonjun is like that 

giselle: i am not editing that one out 

jungwon: he is does not care 

sunghoon: oh my god his last party he asked to be on the pod 

riki: dream guest on my podcast *jojo siwa voice*

sunoo: here you go again

yn: the same party you dumped a drink on me?

*sunghoon only looks at you and smiles. he tilts his head and held eye contact with you.*

sunghoon: how many more times do i have to tell you im sorry? you want me to beg on my knees pre- yn? 

*jungwon and jake side eye each other at sunghoon almost slipping out a petname*

yn: maybe, don’t know yet. *you smile softly at his slip up*

sunghoon: well i am sorry 

yn: hoon i was joking 

*the two of you hold eye contact for a little while longer, a small smile growing on your faces. your friends know the two of you are idiots who are unaware at the moment but hey, what they know can’t hurt you*

jay: anyways.. i think having a friend who cheats in relationships is such a red flag

heeseung: we’ve talked about this

jungwon: it’s like having a liar as a friend

*you make a face when jungwon says liar, sunghoon shifts himself in his seat causing heeseung to send a look his way*

yn: i despise liars. i don’t care nasty the truth is if you felt as if you had to hide it from me it shows how little you care for me

giselle: i agree so heavy with both statements 

jake: it’s kind of hard talking to someone who just lies to you. 

sunoo: i agree, it’s almost like at some point i stop believing everything they tell me 

jungwon: another ick for me is someone who doesn’t have a single close friend 

yn: meh, if it’s a guy i get it but for some girls it’s so hard 

giselle: i agree with yn. i mean i know so many girls who were simply wronged by their friends and left alone

heeseung: they’re always like the nicest people who ever met 

jungwon: i guess so but a guy it’s just.. what the fuck are you doing for that to happen?

yn: no yeah i understand 

jay: some guys we’re friends with are sooo weird 

sunghoon: [BLEEP] or [BLEEP]

giselle: you guys have been name dropping all day 

riki: that’s real because i know those two and they’re weird as fuck 

sunghoon: we were in a group chat with them and yeonjun and even yeonjun was weirded out 

giselle: what were they saying 

jake: just some nasty shit about girls, it’s so weird

jungwon: why are some guys like that 

jake: wish i could tell you 

kat: i think an ick for me is someone who doesn’t have good music taste 

jungwon: maybe you hate yourself 

*riki snorts, causing a chain reaction of laughter*

kat: i MEAN people who listen to only tiktok music 

jake: oh my god it’s like hellaur listen to something 

*sunoo mumbled ‘hellaur’ in jake’s accent, causing everyone to laugh*

jake: don’t piss me off bro

sunoo: yeah i am so threatened 

jungwon: im thinking of that shark attack drink from chilis 

giselle: once i asked my server to spike it for me 

kat: wait.. that’s an amazing idea 

heeseung: those espresso martinis are so good 

riki: this old hag 

heeseung: imagine not being the legal drinking age 

the rest of you: OOOOO

*you reach over to dap heeseung up, who only reciprocated it, giggling a little*

riki: okay whatever 

jungwon: should we sign out then? 

yn: god yes i need to go NEOW 

kat: *looking at the camera* i hope you all enjoyed your stay in yap central, please like, share, subscribe and check out our other resources in the description as well as round tables which will be linked below. till next time!! 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » can u tell i wanted chilis LAWL, pls like n reblog as always 🫶

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[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[justasecretflower]

hello! I saw your reqs were open, and I hope this ask is ok, but first kiss with the Inuyasha boys? 🫢

Hi chérie!! I love this request sm ty! (When requesting Inuyasha put the little 💐:D)

💐- your first kiss w the Inuyasha boys!

A/N- thank you so much for 102 followers!! I love you all mes chéries !!

~ You look lost, visit my garden?

____________________________________________

Inuyasha

- it was sunset and you two were on a branch on a peach tree, watching the beautiful colors in the sky silently.

- it was comfortable silence, warm, inviting.

- there was a ripe peach right behind Inuyasha that you went to grab, blissfully oblivious to how close it got you to Inuyasha’s face.

- when you realized it you just froze.

- he leaned in first, hands gently placed on your cheeks softly holding you.

- surprisingly everything was soft. It wasn’t rushed, there was nothing in that kiss but pure affection poured between you.

- when you two broke away he was beat red and turned his head super quick. “I wouldn’t mind if we did that again you know..”

- he tastes like vanilla

- and you did, grabbing his collar and pressing your lips harder this time.

Miroku

- after a hard mission you had to patch up miroku, who was bruised and battered pretty badly.

- while going near his face you cupped his cheek to go clean up a cut on it. Only for miroku to redirect your face and place a kiss on your lips. It wasn’t too fast, but you didn’t have the lean in moment.

- you were shocked for a bit, but then kissed him back. Him keeping you there by, obviously, placing a hand on your butt and the back of your neck.

- his kisses are passionate.

- he tastes like wild cherries.

- “you wouldn’t mind if I stole another one right?”

Sesshomaru

- it would be in a hot spring. Nothing would be sexual. It’d just be him watching over you while you relax.

- you convinced him to get in, and inched closer and closer to him by the second. A little weary you’d scare him off like a cat.

- he stayed, and you reached out more and more towards him. You would have to lean in first.

- he picks up on your clues tho. By grabbing the back of your neck and gently leaning in as well. Soft, gentle, loving.

- he has a quiet kind of love. The one that has silence deepen your love.

- he tastes like green tea

- he doesn’t ask for another. He just leans in again, pressing a little harder.

Naraku

- he’d be fed up that he didn’t kiss you when he first got infatuated with you.

- the kiss isn’t slow, or gentle, or kind.

- it’s rushed, rough, and demanding.

- you’d be yapping his ear off and suddenly..

- he’d get fed up with your talking and kiss you hard.

- he wouldn’t pull away until a little bit, but when he does he’s smug.

-“That made you shut up didn’t it?”

- he tastes a little like red wine.

Kōga

- you’d be forehead to forehead in his bed one day, talking about stuff until you both went quiet.

- you just looked at each other, seeing how close you were.

- Kōga would lean in first, pressing his lips against yours a little forcefully but sorry! He’s excited

- his tail slightly wags

- he softens up during the kiss, pulling apart and just looking at you, a smile spreading on his face then going in for another.

- he’d have his hands allllll up in your hair.

- he tastes like wild berries.

Jinenji

- stargazing. You’d be stargazing 100%.

- yes, I know it’s where he confessed, but that just makes it even better.

- he’d be having his knees pressing to his chest, making sure you have room, which didn’t matter because you laid your head on his arm anyway, arms wrapped around his.

- you just look up at him.

- oh and he feels it, he flushes. Hard but doesn’t meet your eyes

- You whisper his name to get his attention, he silently turns his head towards.

- you climb up on his lap, hold as much of his face that you can , and press a kiss on his lips.

- he’s shy, and freezes up while his face gets painted with such a deep scarlet you’d think he’s straight up boiling.

- he warms up to it a bit, taking his absolutely massive hand to your back to steady you and shuts his eyes quickly.

- the kiss is full of love, you can feel it as it courses through you. His hand was warm and ever so soft with you, afraid he’ll break you.

- he tastes like fresh herbs.

- he pulls a Rory Gilmore and just stutters out a “thank you..?” Afterwards.

Inuyasha reqs open:) use “💐”

Tags

[moonlight-records]

BTS shopping| FC43 (HAC #8)

pairing: franco colapinto x reader

summary: a glimpse into what shopping is like with you and franco

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

a/n: f1 seating changed. day 8 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar! another sm au!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | current day | day 9

francolapinto tagged ynvibes in a post

liked by ynvibes, arthur_leclerc, ynbestie, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1.2m others

francolapinto prettiest view of 2024 😊

view all 1.1m comments

ynvibes oh stoooop it babe (keep going)

↳ francolapinto thanksfully, i won't stop ↳ ynvibes good 😊 ↳ ynbestie excuse meeeee ↳ francolapinto and my favorite chaos buddy appears! ↳ ynbestie damn RIGHT

user1 NEW FRANCO SIMP POST JUST DROPPED!!

user2 me too franco, me too ↳ ynvibes liked this comment

landonorris and no invite?

↳ francolapinto you're alive!!! ↳ ynvibes we tried but you were hungover, but we can bring something back for you!! ↳ landonorris my savior!!! ↳ ynbestie can you bring y/n home so we can go shopping? please?? i miss my wife 😫 ↳ francolapinto how about i bring y/n home and i take both you out to shopping? ↳ ynbestie I KNEW YOU WERE MY FAVORITE FOR SOME REASON!!! 😍

user3 WE NEED A SHOPPING HAUL STAT

↳ ynvibes ask and you shall receive! ↳ user3 LETS GOOOOOO!!!!

user4 I NEED THAT RED BAG!!!!

user5 this haul bout to hit, i just know it!!!

ynvibes maybe i can help get your secret santa gift

↳ francolapinto PLEASE

ynvibes tagged francolapinto in a post

liked by ynbestie, francolapinto, charles_leclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 835k others

ynvibes got the secret santa gift and then went back for movies & legos

view all 739k comments

user6 oh to shop and then watch movies and build legos after

maxverstappen1 what lego set is he building?

↳ ynvibes no clue but it was on sale. so were the flower sets since I know P wants to build legos!! ↳ maxverstappen1 i knew there was a reason you're my favorite wag ↳ user9 HELLO? ↳ ynvibes awww max!!! ↳ maxverstappen1 don't get use to it

user7 I love Up!!!!

user8 god bless y/n for expanding franco's fashion design. doing the lords work 😫

landonorris whatcha got there? 👀

↳ francolapinto a surprise ↳ landonorris boooooo

user9 it's either for franco or secret santa and either way someone's winning

user10 im excited for them shopping for each other

francolapinto tagged ynvibes and ynbestie in a post

liked by ynvibes, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1.8m others

francolapinto when we together, it's only one brain cell between all of us

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user11 who's in the first one???

↳ user9 i think that's ynbestie

user12 these are the vibes we need this holiday season

ynvibes REUNITED AT LAST!!!

↳ ynbestie I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!

user13 oh to witness them shopping

alex_albon the paddock's favorite three musketeers!!

↳ francolapinto thank you amigo!! ↳ ynbestie damn straight!!!

user14 OMG I WALKED BY FRANCO IN THE PILLOWS AND THOUGHT IT WAS SOME RANDOM GUY 😭

↳ user15 OMG!!! ↳ user14 I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE I WAS JUDGING SO HARD

ynvibes tagged ynbestie in a post

liked by francolapinto, ynbestie, landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 594k others

ynvibes this and yapping ❤️ (thank you franco for giving us your card while you took a phone call you forgot about)

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user16 THIS HAUL BOUT TO SLAP!!!

user17 this is what girlhood is all about

ynbestie OH THANK YOU DEAR FRANCO!! I SHALL BAKE ALL THE BOOZY BROWNIES YOUR HEART DESIRES!!! 🩵 ↳ francolapinto I WIN!! ↳ landonorris I WANT BOOZY BROWNIES???!!!! SHARE PLEASE!!!???? ↳ francolapinto of course i will! ↳ landonorris LETS GOOOOOO ↳ ynvibes smh not you trying to court with the boozy brownies, i am right here ↳ francolapinto my love, i have two hands. one for you and one for lando. like you and your bestie and i ↳ ynvibes this is true. i call one corner piece and i'll accept this arrangement ↳ francolapinto deal!

user18 soooooo book haul when???

↳ ynvibes soon 🤭 ↳ user18 YESSSSS

user19 need a man like this

user20 where's the coffee?!

↳ ynvibes we finished them before we took photos!!! ↳ user20 valid!

francolapinto posted

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francolapinto post shopping lunch and celebration 🥳

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user21 WHAT CELEBRATION???

user22 k-pot after shopping? oh y'all got this under lock and key

landonorris what news???

↳ francolapinto soon! ↳ landonorris sir????

user23 WE THE PEOPLE ARE NOSY FOR ANSWERS!!!

ynbestie i know you're doing to do great things 🩵

↳ francolapinto thank you amigo 🩵

user24 YNBESTIE CONGRATULATING FRANCO??? FRANCO IN F1 SEAT???

alex_albon hell yeah!!! congrats franco!!

user25 OMG OMG OMG IS FRANCO TO WILLIAMS???

ynvibes so proud of you babe 🩵

↳ francolapinto thank you mi amor ❤️

ynvibes posted

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ynvibes family presents ✅

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user26 you love playing with fire, don't you? 😂

user27 ugh target run sounds so nice right noe

charles_leclerc i thought you said you needed one thing? ↳ ynvibes target tells YOU what YOU need. ↳ charles_leclerc ...y/n wtf???

user28 any good sales going on??? love target but it's so far

↳ ynvibes a few! if you need household items and clothes def check them! ↳ user28 i will!!

user29 that fuzzy jackets look SOOOO comfy

logansargeant we love a good target run

↳ ynvibes YOU GET IT!!! ↳ logansargeant i do i do ↳ francolapinto petition for you and logan's partner to go to target while logan and i stay back and play video games ↳ logansargeant where do i sign this petition?? ↳ ynvibes petition granted

user30 time to run to target!!

francolapinto posted

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francolapinto christmas shopping officially done (ft. y/n refusing to let me to carry her bags)

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user31 y/n is a strong independent woman!!

↳ user32 independent yn 🤝 simp franco ↳ user31 god you're so right ↳ user32 wonder if franco carried the bags in ↳ ynvibes he did 😒

user33 can't wait for the wrapping video!!!

ynbestie so am i coming over to help wrap presents???

↳ ynvibes fuck YEAH ↳ francolapinto am i getting wine? ↳ ynbestie yes please!!!

user34 please tell me you guys are doing advent calendars for each other!!!!

↳ user35 PLEASE ↳ user34 begging for it

ynvibes posted

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ynvibes welcome williams newest driver & qudrants newest member 🩵

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quadrant welcome to the team, franco!!!

↳ francolapinto thank you for having me!!

user36 OMG OMG OMG!!!

user37 BEST. DAY. EVER!!!!

landonorris glad to have you apart of the team, amigo

↳ francolapinto thank you for having me!! ↳ ynvibes just make sure i get to see him ↳ max_fewtrell i will ↳ ynvibes thank yoooou

user38 YAY MORE FRANCO CONTENT!!!! AND Y/N WAG ERA!!!

user39 im crying this is great

user40 what movie y'all seeing?

↳ ynvibes wicked! ↳ user40 are you guys holding space??? ↳ ynvibes ofc!!!

[wordsofwilderness]

A Happy Accident

To @veryinnovative, thank you for yapping with me about Alpha James had his need to just chomp down on Regulus!!

Day 10: Marking (bites) (featuring omegaverse) - Jegulus Kinktober - @jeguluskinktoberr - 868 words - EXPLICIT

Since the very first time James had been invited to Regulus’ heat, he’d been obsessed with sucking marks and leaving love bites along Regulus' neck and shoulders. Regulus was covered in them, wherever James could reach, except the scent gland that would bind Regulus to him. James wanted to take it slow, date before jumping to such a decision, a fact that Regulus had protested many times. But sticking to his decision meant relieving himself of his need to claim Regulus in other ways.

Regulus was sitting in James’ lap in the middle of his bed—knot deep inside him—the weight of him slumping up against James’ chest, exhausted and content. It was a rare moment of peace in Regulus’ otherwise frantic heat.

“Bite me again,” Regulus demanded, tugging on James’ neck. At least Regulus was just as obsessed about it all as he was.

Leaning down, James nipped at the skin along Regulus’ collarbone, tongue running over it afterwards.

“No, properly,” Regulus grumbled, his hand weaving into the hair at the nap of James’ neck, pulling on it.

James was dangerously close to Regulus’ scent gland, especially when they were both influenced by Regulus’ heat. But, oh, there was nothing he wouldn't do for him. So, he sank his teeth into Regulus’ shoulder, pulling a moan from Regulus. He seemed to come alive again with it, any hint of exhaustion gone in favour of moving his hips in small circles against James’ knot.

“You want to come again, love?” James murmured.

“Yeah, I need you,” Regulus whined, clinging to James.

Reaching down between them, James wrapped his hand around Regulus’ dick. His fingers gild up and down easily due to the mess of cum from Regulus’ previous orgasms that covered it. “Bite me again,” Regulus moaned, “I need more.”

And James did, right next to his last mark, grinning against the skin at how Regulus’ breath hitched.

“Need more,” Regulus repeated, his hand tightening in James’ hair.

James continued, moving inwards on Regulus’ shoulder as he stroked Regulus’ dick. Tensing up, Regulus’ hip moved franticly in search of friction. And just in time, because James had reached where Regulus’ shoulder met his throat. The one spot he couldn't bite into stared up at him, mocking him. So instead, he brushed his nose over it, inhaling the addictively sweet scent of Regulus. His hand tightened around Regulus’ dick, speeding up. Oh, he wanted him for himself—only his.

With a cry, Regulus came, clamping down on James’ knot. Where James had meant to angle himself and bite into Regulus’ shoulder again, Regulus yanked on his hair, sending him open-mouthed right back. He couldn't have stopped himself in time, even if he wanted to. Biting down on Regulus’ scent gland, instincts took over. His arms circled around Regulus, keeping him there. James’ teeth sank fully in, marking Regulus permanently, mating him.

Euphoric pleasure welled up inside him as the connection fell into place. Light-headed and blissed out, James withdrew. He marvelled down at the mark he’d left, a perfect match to his teeth, now forever embedded in Regulus’ skin.

Emotions flickered over Regulus’ face in rapid succession—satisfaction, realisation, joy, worry.

James brought a hand up, cupping Regulus’ cheek, his mind not quite comprehending what had just happened.

His now, in every sense of the word.

But…

“You didn't mean to do that, did you?” Regulus said, finally breaking the silence.

“No.”

Regulus glanced away. “Because you don't want me to as your mate,” he said, as if the statement was pure fact rather than the most absurd thing James had ever heard.

“What?” James exclaimed before more quietly saying, “Regulus, please look at me.”

Regulus only hid his face away further.

“I want you as my mate,” James tried to explain, “That's why I’m so obsessed with covering you with love bites, because it was the only way to hold myself back from mating you too soon.” Pressing a kiss to Regulus’ curls, he whispered, “I want you, love, in everything.”

Regulus finally looked up, guarded hope in his eyes. “But you always told me we should wait.”

“I could live with you walking away, but regretting me? I…” James trailed off with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry I made you doubt me.”

“So, you're okay with it?”

“Being mated?” James asked, “I’m a lot more than just okay with it.” With a grin he hoped was comforting, James said, “Though I wish it’d been a bit more planned, so I could’ve made it special.”

“It was special,” Regulus retorted, that beautiful smile of his gracing his face.

“You deserve a bed covered in rose petals, a celebration, the whole ordeal,” James countered as he laid them down on the bed again, Regulus beneath him.

“You just want an excuse to throw a party” Regulus frowned, narrowing his eyes at James.

“So, this is how we'll spend the first few moments of being mated?” James chuckled, his hand braced on either side of Regulus’ head, looking down at his new mate.

“Arguing and fucking?” Regulus supplied.

“Yeah, alright, that doesn't sound half-bad,” James hummed, closing the space between them to capture Regulus’ lips with his.