#still a chef adding a dash of this and a dash of that to whatever's in their mixing bowl

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So okay I don't know if this is like...a cool thing to do or not, but there's a fic I claimed from the 2022 kink meme list (I couldn't resist, in large part because Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center was listed by the prompter as one of their inspirations for the prompt) that I'm not sure when I'll actually finish writing but I have started it and I'd like to at least acknowledge that I'm doing it even if the prompter won't see this. But the prompt is something along the lines of anything highly specific and niche (like my strip mall AU lol), and I actually happen to have a growing little stockpile of very very niche knowledge about my chosen professional field, which is ceramics! I specialize in wheel-throwing (though I'm also a...passable hand at plaster mold-making/slip casting and handbuilding, I just don't enjoy them nearly as much) so I've started a little something from Lan Wangji's point of view that's a love letter to throwing ♥

--//--

As is tradition, Lan Wangji works in porcelain.

The Lan family have been respected masters of porcelain for centuries, generations stretching back, back, back nearly to the beginning of the imperial kiln production in Jingdezhen. They once produced the enormous pots that adorned emperors’ palaces – there are (very distant) cousins of his in Jingdezhen who still do so for wealthy patrons.

It’s easy to forget such a background when he enters his personal studio on the other side of the world and flicks on the lights to begin the day’s routines. It’s precisely what he wants – a quiet life like this, simple and unassuming, is much more suited to his desire than the weight of tradition that could otherwise press him and his work down into something he would never want to be.

Not that he deviates very far from tradition anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lan Wangji takes quiet pleasure in simplicity, in function that is beautiful in its hard-won mastery. There are very few non-traditional ways to accomplish this that he’s interested in, but he likes having the option should he want to take it. 

Lan Wangji had learned to throw at his uncle’s knee as soon as it was possible to do so. He has continued to do so since childhood with a single-mindedness that once surprised even his uncle. All he’d ever wanted to do was to sit at the wheel for hours and hours on end, only pausing to warm the water in his bowl with a fresh influx from the kettle and to transfer full wareboards (once he was strong enough) to the drying racks in the corner of his uncle’s studio.

Lan Wangji has always struggled to find the words to convey how integral the motion of the wheel and the smooth slip of clay through his finger and against his palms is to feeling like he fits into his skin properly, but his family seems to understand just the same.

Yesterday, as the sun was westering, Lan Wangji had weighed up a few bags of fresh porcelain. The lumps are waiting for him now, tumbled together under their protective sheets of plastic, ready to be molded and shaped by hands and hypnotic motion. There’s enough of a chill in the studio this time of year that there isn’t any condensation on the plastic when he lifts it, so he folds it away neatly and settles into the easy rhythm of wedging his clay to prepare it for the wheel.

There is, in the middle of the studio, a sturdy butcher’s block workbench. He built it himself right there in the studio, the first piece of furniture that had filled the space even before he’d purchased his Shimpo wheel. It’s very likely too heavy to lift – it’s certainly too big to ever get through the door – but he has no intention of ever leaving this studio to begin another, so it suits his purposes just fine.

Wedging the clay on this sturdy, hip-height table is nearly as meditative a process as all the rest of it. A bit more of a workout than sitting at the wheel, but it’s a good way to warm up in the morning, his muscles well accustomed to the push-turn-push-turn-push-turn of spiral wedging that it’s gone beyond second nature, it simply is. His mind wanders pleasantly as he watches the misshapen lumps of pure porcelain become smooth and rounded beneath his palms. Perhaps he’ll spend the day on bowls. They’re quick and simple, suited to his mood today, and he’ll have plenty of them done by lunch when he already knows his typical solitary routine will be interrupted (and can therefore plan for it so far in advance). 

The sun is up properly by the time Lan Wangji finishes his wedging, and once he’s transferred the first batch of prepared clay to the wheel he pauses to stand in the open doorway and look out over the garden that sits between his studio and his home. The grass and the flowers are glittering fresh and dewy in the sunlight as he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his back in preparation to be seated for long hours.

When he returns, the wheel welcomes him, familiar and comforting. He fills an old bird seed bucket with warm water from the tap and arranges the small mirror at the back of the wheel’s tray to the perfect angle to watch his own hands before he settles in and takes a deep breath, sleeves rolled up and apron cinched comfortably tight around his waist as an unnecessary reminder to keep his back as straight as he can while he works.

The first ball of porcelain hits the perfect bullseye of the wheelhead and Lan Wangji leans in to begin centering, the porcelain buttery soft where it runs under his hands. Porcelain, he knows, is notorious for being difficult to work with, particularly for beginners. This far into his career, it’s simply polite and responsive to each confident press of his palms. He cones it first, hands curled around it to coax it in and up; presses it down again with the flat of his hand, every movement focused on the centerpoint of the wheel gliding silently through magnet-powered rotations. 

Up. 

Down again. 

Up.

Down.

Push.

Press.

Lan Wangji loves every part of the throwing process for what it is, but if he were to have to choose only one, this would be his favorite: the moment he can feel the clay running smoothly, perfectly centered the whole way through and ready to become whatever he will tell it to be, the possibilities – for this moment – endless.

[writingoddess1125]

The Jessica Rabbit Effect (Shorts)

Buggy Headcanon+story. Buggy x Reader

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Previous <<< >>> Masterlist

This is a series of random thoughts from the Jessica Rabbit Series

Buggy likes to be the little spoon at times, so if he's had a bad day will cuddle against his darling wife and let her take care of him.

You often have to do Buggy's hair. Since its a wild mess at the best of times when he returns from see its a bit of a ritual for him to shower, get into his favorite pants and sit between your thighs as you brush out his hair.

Has bitten your Thigh- earning a playful smack of the comb

Sometimes he will sing for you- He actually has a lovely singing voice but you'll be the only one to hear it.

Surprisngly decent at cooking- Hes no chef but sure as hell can make one hell of a breakfast sandwich.

YOU are the secret Perv of the relationship, Most would assume its Buggy but its actually You.

You had been stalking your prey for the last 5 minutes, Buggy was currently going through some crates he had kept in the closet- saying something about a old hat of sorts. It was the perfect angle however-

However he was unaware of his wife slowly stepping forwards him as he bent over once more to dig deeper in the box-

Closer...

Maybe right overrr..

Buggy Yelled suddenly as he felt fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as he turned and heard you cackle and quickly dash away as he gives chase.

He often returns from his sailing with gifts of whatever you like. Jewlery? More Sewing stuff? Books? Whatever you want he will snag for you.

You two secretly read raunchy novels together, Sometimes you will send him a book while he is away and he will read it at night before bed. Before sending one of his own-

Often resulting in the two of you speaking about the books in depth when together good or bad-

Buggy Takes care of you since you are more likely to burn out-

EXTRA! (Short Story)

You'd been hard at work, it seemed your business had been really taking off with now your two most demanding customers Sir Mihawk and Sir Crocodile. Who seemed to not only be picky about their fabrics but also seemed to damage their clothes constantly! You'd been busy to say the least.

Right now was no exception, You were standing in the Livingroom of yur home adding a few final buttons to a coat of Sir Crocodile, Letting your mind wonder as you worked tirelessly to have it completed before the morning-

As you worked you felt a hand touch your waist, giving a loud shrill yell as you spun around and swung-

"OW! What the hell!?" Your husbands voice sounded as you managed to whack his nose with a open palm. Buggy seemed to have just sailed in, still in his hat and coat and now rubbing his now sore nose with a frown-

"Im so sorry darling! I didnt realize it was you here let me get a pack for your nose-" You started, still coming down from the fright your husband had given you and went to flutter away to get a ice pack, However Buggy stopped you and pulled you close. Examming your face closely and frowning.

"Forget it- What are you doing up so late anyway? You should still be asleep.. You look tired-"

He grumbled, catching your look of confusion.

"Early? Its only- Um" You look to the large clock and blink in surprise at seeing the time. 1:37am!?

"O-Oh i guess I lost track of time an-"

"Did you eat dinner!?" Buggy cut you off again seeing your little work table and spotting only half finished tea and almost a finished pastry, most likely from the morning before- You bit your lip in embarrassment not even having the voice to say anything at being caught.

With a etched frown Buggy suddenly hoisted you up to his shoulder causing a loud yelp to leave you.

"Buggy!" You yell as you are carried like a sack to your shared master bedroom, red faced from the action.

"Buggy I still have to finish Crocodiles Coat an- EEP!"

A full palmed smack hit your behind from, Buggy- Cutting off your tirade as you felt your brain short circuit for a moment. Buggy walked into the master bathroom and set you on the counter, grumbling to himself as he started up a bath and went to your bedroom to start grabbing clothes.

"Buggy Boo-"

You started again but his hand floated to you and placed a finger to your lips.

"Id start undressing if I were you! Cause If I do it I may get handsy!"

Buggy called out from the bedroom as he grabbed more clothes. His free floating hand making a grabbing motion to your chest as if to give warning- You couldn't help but let a laugh out at this as you pushed his hand away playfully and slid off the countertop and getting undressed.

Setting your clothes in the hamper as Buggy came back in the bathroom with fresh PJs and already in his boxers only. He eyes looking over your figure in desire, Making you blush of course. Setting the clothes down Buggy removed his Boxers with dramatic flare of course and climbed in the water first, turning it off in the process as his other hand detached and guided you in with care. You leaning back against Buggy's chest and sighing in delight at the hot water. The stress already melting away as the two of you sat and soaked.

After a little while the two of you began to wash up, Buggy putting your hair up as the comforting silence and occasional splash of water from rinsing could be heard.

After the two of you smelled like sweet apple soap and the hot water had cooled to warm the both of you got out. Buggy taking the time to dry you off with a big fluffy towel while you braided his hair so it wouldn't tangle.

Getting dressed you walked into the bedroom and plopped onto the bed, starting to finally feel tired as Buggy laid next to you. His hands however leaving the room-

"Better?" Buggy asked as he looked at you, you leaning over and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Much, Thank you darling" You smile, just to glance over and see his hands returning with a series of items half hazard. A box of crackers, some cured meat, a few apples and some random half eaten cheese blocks. Paired with a knife of course you assume from his belt.

"Dinner of champions!" Buggy boasted, cracking open the wine bottle and handing it to you, rolling your eyes playfully as you took a sip.

The two of you seated on your marital bed, drinking straight from a wine bottle and eating the simple meal, chatting away about random topics.

"So you think the treasure is further south?" You ask, Buggy nodding as he took another bit of cheese and crackers in his mouth as he spoke with his mouth full cutting some meat for you and passing it over. "I 'Hink Cap Jo'n hit it und'er som' seri's of i'slands sout-" (I think Capt John hid it under some series of islands south).

"A Yellow VELVET Shirt!?" Buggy said dramatically making you laugh as you took some apple into your mouth and nodded. Buggy face scrunching up in disgust. "Come On, I'm a clown and I think that's tacky! Even for Crocodile!" You start to laugh as buggy passes the now half empty bottle to you.

Laughter and Chatter filled the bedroom till around 3am, when Buggy set the leftovers of the impromptu meal on the nightstand, the empty wine bottle on the floor and cuddled you close. Pressing you against his neck as you two felt exhaustion take you.

"Your not working for the next few days.. Gonna Burn Out-" Buggy mumbled as he felt your breath even out and cuddle closer to him. You nod "Fine.. But same goes to you" You yawn, Buggy patting your arm in agreement.

"Deal.. Now sleep" He grumbled closing his eyes.

"I love you Bugs"

"I love you More.."

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD Men ? - AU civilian

Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, König, Rudy, Alex, Nikolai

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written, mid or if they're OOC)

SOAP as a firefighter : 

-"911, how can I assist you today?"

-"I think there's been a break-in at my place!"

-"Could you describe the intruder, ma'am?"

-"It's... a turkey."

-"A turkey?"

-"Yeah, one of those gobbling birds! My neighbors use a live one for their Thanksgiving, and it somehow busted loose. It barged into my place through the door, gave me a real fright. I dashed into my bathroom, but it went all 'Rambo' on my door, and now it's busted. My handle is broken, I'm stuck in here!"

-"Don't worry, help is on the way."

-And that's when you met Soap. There he was, showing up at your doorstep in full firefighter gear.

-"Hey there ?" he greeted, axe in hand, ready to face off against the rogue turkey.

-You weren’t kidding, he thought.

-He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the havoc that bird had wreaked in your place.

-Your poor sofa was toast, and your table was in pieces. Slowly, he made his way to the damaged door.

-"Hey there, Ah’m a firefighter. I’m here tae break down the door. Please step back."

-"Oh thanks ! I was starting to think I'd be spending the night bawling in my bathtub."

-He chuckled.

-"Wouldnae want a lovely person like yerself spendin’ Thanksgiving solo."

-"Thanks," you replied.

-"I'll get started," Soap said as he began dismantling the door.

-"Here, it looks like the turkey's gone," he reported.

-But when he turned to you, he noticed something amiss.

- Normally, people were relieved to see him, not scared out of their wits.

-His gaze shifted back, and that's when he saw it—the monstrous turkey, ready to pounce.

-Without a second thought, he scooped you up, effortlessly carrying you despite whatever size or weight you were, and bolted past the bird.

-"Why's that thing so fast?" he exclaimed.

-"They're practically dinosaurs, I swear!" you cried from the safety of his arms.

-You both made it to the street. Soap dialed up a wildlife specialist to handle the feathery menace.

-"Ah’l swearin’ off turkey forever," he vowed.

-"I think finding a new place to live might be a good idea," you whispered, still trying to calm your nerves.

-"Aye, yer neighbors are some real characters for pullin’ a stunt like this."

-"Thanks again for this. I mean, I'm sure you've got more pressing cases."

-"No’ really. Usually, it's just family squabbles. Last time, Ah had a grandma tryin’ tae kill her son wi’ mashed potatoes," he joked.

-"Grandma can get wild," you chuckled.

-"Ye have no idea. Name's John, by the way. Sorry for forgettin’ ma manners."

-"Hey, a wild turkey trying to take me out can do that to a person," you quipped. "I'm Y/n," you added.

-He grinned.

-“I owe you big time, Soap," you said, finally stepping out of the bathroom. "Guess this Thanksgiving, I'll be giving thanks for firefighters and sturdy bathtubs."

-Soap gave you a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. Plus, -it's not every day I get to play hero to a person in distress... from a turkey."

-After the turkey trouble was sorted, Soap bid his farewell. Little did he know, two days later, your new neighbor would be attempting to cook aluminum in his microwave. Maybe this time he'd find a moment to ask for your number.

-------

GHOST as a chef : 

-The poor waitress had asked you twice if you wanted to order by the time your date arrived. But it was painfully obvious. 

-You had been stood up.

 -You tried to ignore the looks, the sensation of your clothes feeling too tight, too constricting. You felt like a clown.

-Staring at your phone, you sent messages, hoping for excuses like traffic or an important matter.

-Maybe he had a flat tire, or perhaps his boss demanded he stay late. Yet, two hours later, you were still there, feeling like a fool.

-That's when the message came: "Oh, I was just joking, you're not my type, you know."

-Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the humiliation wash over you.

-How could someone flirt for two months just as a joke? He messaged you every night; how were you supposed to know it was all a farce?

-Biting your lip, you stood up.

-At this hour, you hoped there were still buses running.

-You couldn't afford an Uber. Yet, as you gathered your things, the waitress approached.

-"Excuse me, but your food will arrive."

-"I... I'm sorry, but I can't... I can't afford anything here, and my date stood me up. He was supposed to pay, and..." you rambled, feeling ashamed, but she led you back to your seat.

-You felt even more ashamed. This place was so luxurious.

-"I really can't afford it, madam," you whispered.

-"It's on the house. The chef offered it," she said gently.

-"Oh."

-You didn't know if you felt grateful or not. It felt like pity, but food from a Michelin-starred restaurant was still a luxury, so you ate. It was unbelievably good. You felt so thankful to the chef.

-"I... could I thank him?" you asked after finishing your dinner.

-"He doesn't speak to clients. That's why he opened his own restaurant — so he could remain unseen by his patrons and not be obligated to accept their thanks, As he says “I Ghost clients”" the waitress explained.

-"I see. His dishes are so precise, it's impressive."

-"Yeah, he's good with a knife."

-"Well, thanks again for offering me this. It was a crappy night, but at least I ended up in heaven," you said.

-She smiled, and you left.

-But you felt indebted to him. Dishes like that cost a lot.

- Even if you didn't doubt he could afford it, you felt like you had to do something in return.

-So the next night, you baked cookies.

-You felt ridiculous with your small Tupperware and homemade cookies.

-They'd probably taste awful to him, you thought, but you wanted to repay him.

-"Hi, I... wanted to give this to Ghost? He offered me dishes last time, and I wanted to thank him. I understand if you say no. I mean, it could have poison in it, but..." you rambled to the waiter.

-"No need, we'll take it," the waiter with a mohawk said with a smile.

-You felt like he knew something you didn't. As you were about to leave, a tall, blond man walked over, holding a cookie.

-"Thanks," he said with a gruff voice behind his mask.

-Shit. Ghost was... this man?

-This mountain of muscles made those beautiful dishes? Those meticulous details came from his hands? You were impressed.

-"Do you like it?" you asked, unsure.

-"Best cookies I've tasted."

-"I know you're lying."

-"Second," he admitted. "My ma's were better."

-You chuckled.

-"I can give you the recipe. I mean, you really saved me last night. It was so... humiliating."

-"It's not. The only one who should feel ashamed is the bloke who stood you up, love."

-"You're right, but still."

-"Come back again, Friday. With the recipe."

-"I can send it by email."

-"I want you to taste a new dish."

-"Oh."

-"Having someone honest is nice. It's a change from all the compliments."

-"Okay," you agreed.

-Little did you know, Simon would always find new dishes to make you come back.

-Of course, he could ask his sous-chefs or waiters to taste, but seeing your smile or frown after a taste was so much better.

-(I need a long fic about Simon being a chef, like this AU has so much potential, plus in kitchen you have “brigade” which could be like 141)

GAZ as a primary school teacher : 

-You were on your usual delivery route, this time dropping off packages at the primary school.

-As you made your way through the corridors, you spotted Gaz, the primary teacher, who greeted you with a smile.

-"I was waiting for you," Gaz said cheerfully.

-"Oh, am I right on time?" you responded, glancing at your phone in confusion.

-"Yes, but the kids are eager," Gaz explained.

-You furrowed your eyebrows. Eager for what? Seeing a delivery person? Or perhaps the contents of your package were something special, like paintings or other intriguing items?

-"I see," you said, still puzzled.

-"Follow me," Gaz instructed, leading you into his classroom before you could protest.

-As you entered, you were met with the curious gaze of twenty pairs of eyes.

-It dawned on you as you glanced at a piece of paper – Gaz had mistaken you for the guest speaker, an athlete scheduled to address the students.

-"Sir, I think there's been a mistake," you whispered to Gaz, but before you could say more, a child wrapped their arms around you.

-"I'm so glad you're here!" the child exclaimed, melting your resolve. How could you shatter their excitement?

-You couldn’t bear to crush their excitement. Besides, it was clear that the athlete wasn’t going to show up; it was already 10 AM, and they were supposed to be there by 8AM according to the schedule on the board.

-And so, you found yourself spinning tales to answer their questions, pretending to be the athlete they expected. 

-“Um, hey there ! Being an athlete is pretty cool, you know” you improvised, trying to sound convincing.

-“How does it feel to do sports all day ?” one curious kid asked

-“Well it’s tough but you know riding horse is fun”

-“I thought you were running”

-“RUNNING ! Of course, horse is just a hobby” you blurted out

-Despite your fibs, the kids beamed with admiration, hanging onto your every word.

-After a couple of hours, Gaz approached you with a knowing smile.

-"You're not the athlete, are you?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

-"How did you figure it out?" you replied sheepishly.

-"When you mentioned unicorns helping your coach – that was a dead giveaway," Gaz chuckled. "But I appreciate you playing along."

-"I couldn’t bear to disappoint the kids. Kids' dreams are important," you admitted, feeling a twinge of guilt.

-"Yeah, they are," Gaz agreed. "Thanks for going along with it."

-"It was more fun than my usual deliveries, anyway," you admitted with a grin.

-“Wait, your boss won’t be mad ?! I mean two hours, sorry you must be so late, no ?”he said worried

-“Don’t worry you were my last”

-As you prepared to leave, Gaz introduced himself properly.

-"Thanks against or helping out. And by the way 'm Kyle, but the kids call me Gaz – it's easier for them," he explained.

-"It was nice meeting you, Gaz," you said sincerely, touched by his kindness towards the children.

-As you left the school, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment. And to your surprise, when you made your next delivery, there was Gaz, offering to lend a hand. 

-"Thought you might need some help this time," he said with a wink.

-Maybe it was repayment for your earlier assistance, or perhaps the kids had teased him about having a crush on you – either way, you were grateful for his company.

PRICE as an uni history teacher :

-It was about 10 PM, and there you were, sprinting in high heels, your wig dangling precariously.

-"Oh, for the love of all that’s good," you muttered under your breath.

-The situation was straightforward, yet utterly absurd.

- You, a university teacher, found yourself at a costume party with a Bridgerton theme.

- After hastily getting ready at your friend’s place, it dawned on you that you had forgotten your house key.

-Sure, crashing at your friend's was an option, but you had a furry friend waiting at home who needed your attention.

-So, off you went, driving back to the only place your keys could be: the teacher's offices at the university.

- Picture this: you, clad in an 18th-century outfit, a fake wig teetering on your head, and a petticoat swishing around, all the while cursing your luck and hoping no students would spot you.

-Finally, you reached the office, finding it deserted. You located your keys and—

-"Quite the accurate ensemble, I must say."

-You froze, turning to find a man with a rather impressive beard. "Um, I can explain?"

-"Are you a student?" he asked.

-"No need to butter me up; I know I don't exactly look like one," you confessed.

-He chuckled. "Sorry, I was just trying to give you an out. You know, student parties and whatnot."

-"Thanks, but yeah, I'm the… new teacher. Guess we haven't crossed paths yet. Been here about a month," you said, extending your hand.

-"Well, isn't this a fortunate coincidence?" he remarked.

-"How so?"

-"I’m John Price," he revealed.

-Your eyes widened. Oh, crap. You just met THE history teacher of the campus dressed as a Bridgerton character. What were the odds?

-He laughed. "Nice to meet my new colleague. Heard quite a bit about your work."

-"Likewise, and… sorry about the attire," you apologized.

-"No need. It suits you. Makes me feel like a proper gentleman seeing someone dressed like that," he said with a grin.

-You chuckled nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Price."

-Little did you know, your next class for the first year was a shared one with him. Dodging him might not be as simple as you thought.

NIKOLAI as a F1 pilot :

-Your friend's desperate plea over the phone stirred something in you.

-"Alright, I'll come help with the shoot," you conceded, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension.

-As you arrived at the location, taking in the serene surroundings, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place among the bustling crew.

-Your specialty lay in capturing the untamed beauty of animals—dogs, cats, and the like.

-This commercial setup felt like a far cry from your usual stomping grounds.

-Engaging in conversation with the staff about the artistic direction, you couldn't help but notice the artificiality of the setting, with fake plants and trees surrounding you.

-Nevertheless, you settled in, adjusting lights and preparing for the task at hand.

-"The model is here," an assistant announced, drawing your attention to the center of the room where a man stood, completely naked.

-"Why is he naked?" you whispered in disbelief, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks.

-"It's for the charity event, featuring naked pilots for calendars," the staff explained casually, oblivious to your discomfort.

-Stunned, you turned to your friend, silently questioning her decision to involve you in this unconventional endeavor.

-"I photograph nature and animals, not... naked humans!" you protested, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

-"Well, technically, you photograph a big snake," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.

-You rolled your eyes, suppressing a sigh. "Ugh, don't even mention his...thing, please."

-"I don't mind being called an anaconda," the man interjected with a smirk, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race.

-Caught off guard by his boldness, you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity.

- "Sir, I'm sorry, but I wasn't warned about these... circumstances," you stammered, struggling to maintain composure.

-"I understand. If we need to reschedule, no problem, Солнышко ," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, sending shivers down your spine.

-"What did you just say?" you asked, unable to hide the hint of fluster in your tone.

-"Sorry, I meant no problem to reschedule, sunshine," he clarified, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

-"But you're... a star?" you questioned, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

-"I'm a well-known F1 pilot, yes. But I'm closer to retirement than those young ones. I doubt people would buy the calendar for me," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

-"I'd certainly buy it for you," your friend chimed in, breaking the tension with a playful grin.

-He laughed, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush. "And you?"

-"I... maybe? Okay, we'll do it, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm more accustomed to animals, so..." you trailed off, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of working closely with him.

-"Let's get started," he suggested, his smile softening the edges of the room and easing your nerves.

-And so, the shoot commenced, with Nikolai proving to be a surprisingly adept model, effortlessly charming everyone with his wit and charisma.

- As you directed him through the poses, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension between you, a magnetic pull that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

-"Thanks for today. Need a ride?" he offered, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

-"No, I came in my car," you replied, torn between the desire to stay and the need to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

-"The red one?" a staff member inquired, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between you.

-"Yeah, why?" you asked, feeling a knot form in your stomach at the thought of your car.

-"Sorry, mate, your car got impounded," they informed you, their words puncturing the bubble of tension that had enveloped you.

-You sighed, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. "So, a ride?" Nikolai offered, his gaze softening with concern.

-"Yeah, I guess. What a crappy day," you muttered, cursing your luck.

-"Don't say that, it was great," he insisted, his voice gentle and reassuring.

-You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for his unexpected kindness. In his car, as he drove you away from the chaos of the shoot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling that was only amplified by his soothing presence.

-"Not what you were expecting, huh?" he remarked, his tone playful yet sincere.

-"Well, I wasn't expecting a race car drive, but yeah," you chuckled, feeling the tension between you slowly dissipating.

-"I drive safely. Sometimes you need low adrenaline," he explained, his words resonating with you in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

-"Thanks again for the ride," you said, turning to him with a smile that felt more genuine than any you had worn all day.

-"No problem. I mean, you've seen me naked, so..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

-"Yeah, sure," you laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the playful banter.

-"If you want, you can still come to one of my races," he offered, his gaze lingering on you with a hopefulness that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

-"I'll think about it," you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips as you contemplated the possibilities that lay ahead.

ALEX as a lawyer :

-You couldn't believe your eyes.

-A client was after you for a cup of tea—yes, you heard that right, a freaking tea!

-The same tea you accidentally spilled during a chaotic rush, and she tripped you with her feet, claiming you scalded her with hot tea. The kicker?

-You knew it was iced tea.

- But it was your word against hers, and she had a squadron of lawyers ready to pounce, while you were broke. It was pretty clear how this would end.

-You sighed, resorting to searching for lawyers online, but all you found were scams.

-One promised to chase after dead people, another claimed you'd make thousands just by being pretty, and the rest boasted about defending infamous criminals with laughably bad Photoshopped images.

-Feeling desperate, you reluctantly agreed when your mom mentioned your cousin knew someone who knew someone. You certainly didn't expect a model-lawyer showing up at your doorstep with a bright smile and legal expertise.

-"Hi, I'm Alex," he offered his hand.

-"Hi, I guess you know about my... case?" you replied.

-"Yes, there's a high chance of her winning since similar cases have ruled in favor of people like her. Remember the McDonald's hot coffee incident?" he explained.

-"So I'm screwed?" you muttered.

-"Not necessarily. I can prove she's acting out of self-interest."

-"...before you say anything, you know, I can't... afford it?" you interjected.

-"Yes. I... I used to be a prominent lawyer. Perhaps you've heard of the Shepherd case?" he mentioned.

-"The CEO who got off the hook despite everyone knowing he committed tax fraud?" you recalled.

-"Yes, I was his lawyer," he admitted.

-"Oh," you murmured, taken aback.

-"I... I'm not proud of the people I've defended. I didn't realize the harm I was causing to victims. For me, everyone deserved representation, but when I saw what Shepherd did with his ill-gotten gains... I couldn't continue down that path. I signed up to advocate for people. Not evil," he confessed.

-"So you took on lost causes like me?" you mused.

-"You could say that," he smiled.

-"Well, it sounds like Daredevil. Maybe I'll catch you wearing a latex suit at night while fighting crime," you joked.

-"You might be onto something there," he replied, his expression serious.

-"Wait, you're joking?" you asked, but he didn't crack a smile.

-"Mr. Keller, you're joking, right?" you pressed, but he just smirked.

-"Let's focus on your case," he redirected.

-"You can't just dodge my question. I need to know—" 

-"Boxing. I box at night, nothing illegal. I train kids, and I've competed in the past," he confessed.

-"I see. Why do I find that hard to believe?" you teased.

-"I'm a damn good liar. I'm a lawyer," he retorted.

-"Fair point," you chuckled.”well at least I believe in the latex suit at night”

-“Kinky”he joked, you smiled.

-Alex got down to business, helping you devise a strategy.

-Maybe with this super lawyer on your side, you stood a chance. Yet, you couldn't shake the curiosity about his secrets. Who knows what uncovering them might bring?

KÖNIG as a baker :

-König had just opened his bakery.

- Eager to be neighborly, he sent some cookies to the local shops nearby.

- However, when his customers arrived one day, one of them expressed hesitation: "You know, I was hesitant to buy here because I heard you made the florist down the street sick."

-König couldn't believe his ears.

- Ashamed, he double-checked his ingredients, but everything seemed fine.

-So, he decided to switch things up and bake some croissants instead.

-Yet, the next day brought news that the florist had fallen ill due to food poisoning.

-Determined to make amends, König sent something different the following day.

-And the pattern repeated itself. After a week of this, he finally decided to confront the florist.

-Entering their cute shop, he whispered nervously, "Hallo."

-"Hi," you replied.

-"I'm König, the—"

-"The baker," you interrupted.

-He froze.

-Well, he certainly hadn't made a good impression.

-After seven incidents, he couldn't expect a warm reception, but he hoped you’d understand he hadn't done it intentionally. He wasn't a villain.

-"I'm sorry about the pastries," he began, "I swear I don't know what went wrong. Other shops ate them and had no issues. I—"

-"I know you're not trying to poison me," you interjected.

-"Oh, but... then why?" he asked.

-"I thought someone would have told you, maybe Horangi, the chef at the restaurant. But I'm lactose intolerant. I assumed you knew, so I ate your pastries thinking someone had informed you. Then, I realized that wasn't the case. But if I didn't eat your gift, you might have thought I was upset with you, so I still ate them, and—"

-"It was a misunderstanding," König finished their sentence.

-"Two anxious people overthinking things, but yeah," you admitted, laughing.

-"I promise to bake you something lactose-free," he vowed.

-"Thanks, it'll be appreciated. Your pastries were good, just not for my digestive system," you replied.

-He nodded and returned to his bakery, pondering the idea of introducing gluten and lactose-free versions of his pastries. Surely not because of the cute florist who seemed to visit more often now. Nah.

RUDY as a librarian :

-You were a young journalist, eager to dive into investigative reporting, but your editor relegated you to the local sports section since you were the new kid on the block.

- It wasn't exactly your passion, but you made the best of it. Your current assignment: write about Rodolfo Parra, a former boxer.

-Avoiding the internet due to its unreliable nature, especially for local stories, you opted for the library.

- As you searched for information on Parra, a man approached.

-"Need a hand?" he offered.

-You glanced at his badge, confirming his name as Rudy.

-"Yeah, I'm digging up info on the boxer Rodolfo Parra. I heard his early days were at the local club, so I figured the archives might have something," you explained.

-Rudy smiled. "Rodolfo Parra, huh?"

-"Yeah, you know him?"

-"You could say that, but I've heard he's not too keen on journalists."

-"Exactly why I couldn't land an interview," you sighed.

-"But why write about him? He retired two years ago," Rudy questioned.

-"My boss wants it, so here I am," you replied with a hint of resignation.

-"I've got some info, but can I trust you?" Rudy hesitated.

-"Absolutely, I'll respect his privacy. I just want to know his story, his struggles. I've heard rumors about a fixed fight where a coach, El Sinombre, forced him to lose," you shared.

-Rudy's expression darkened. "It was more than that. I'm surprised you know about it."

-"I've delved into El Sinombre's dealings before. I wanted to write for investigative reporting," you confessed. "I found it odd that a sports club had ties to a pharmacy."

-"They developed stimulants to win fights, and more... potent substances," Rudy revealed.

-"So Rodolfo lost to a doped-up opponent?" you concluded.

-"Yeah. Rumor has it, El Sinombre threatened his family if he didn't comply. Rodolfo vowed never to lose, so El Sinombre took matters into his own hands..." Rudy trailed off.

-"And Rodolfo ended up paralyzed," you finished solemnly.

-"Yeah, but with rehab, he's probably walking now. But he can't fight anymore," Rudy confirmed.

-"Having your dreams crushed like that must be devastating. A fighter silenced," you mused.

-"Maybe it was for the best," Rudy countered.

-"You think so?" you questioned.

-"Boxing isn't a lifelong career. Maybe retiring was a blessing," he reasoned.

-"I don't know, having your dreams shattered like that... it must take a toll. Imagine if someone burned down your library," you countered.

-"Well, this library was my backup dream, so I'd just have to find another," he quipped.

-You nodded, then realization dawned. "Your backup dream?"

-"Yeah," Rudy admitted. "Rudy for Rodolfo. Not the smartest move for a future investigative journalist, huh?"

-"Hey! You—yeah, I was naïve, but you could've given me a heads-up," you teased back.

-"Now, tell me about your boss. Things might be more complicated than we thought," Rudy suggested.

-"Do you think El Sinombre is after you?" you pondered.

-"We'll find out," he replied cryptically.

-Maybe your beat would evolve over time...

If you want more : my masterlist

I still need to write Alejandro, Lasswell and Farah, maybe in a next part with other characters :) !

[villanevehaus]

here i come

1- first things first: getting to read v’s pov at this specific moment its everything we could ever want, just like you posted after last month’s ch in your dash abt how everything changes only for vil now that she knows the role she played/plays in eve’s life is much showed in this ch bc i felt it was complete. its like there was some missing piece lost out there and with vil’s mind being displayed the whole puzzle was beginning to take shape. obvsl bc you’re the writer this makes sense, but now your post almost seems as a premonition to ch 16 bc it fulfills it’s promise. 

2- how much she can restrain herself on showing no sights that something shifted whilst all of this drops on her lap, not to mention the other add-ins given by clueless eve and eve’s presence herself.

3- the final confirmation through her pov that shes the mordale/the one who shot eve

4- realising Eve's the one who stabbed her!!!

5- damn if Vil’s not playing w fire by stretching purposefully in Eve’s sight

6- with Vil’s pov now you can see how much they’re the same. vil questions herself just the same way eve does.

7- its awkwardly comforting knowing now how vil’s mind operates and how many questions and doubts i had were cleared or/and confirmed just by giving the girl the mic.

8- im still confused abt vil’s blood tainted with eve’s to be such a top secret for eve. im just as curious as vil. gonna keep ma thoughts to myself 

9- Folie à deux. you did NOT haus

10- i find it really interesting how you set oksana in the story as someone completely different from villanelle, but it’s awaken when certain scenarios comes to light. it gives so much complexity and depth to the character.

11- i wanted to know if vil went back to her bed after eve’s nightmare of if she stayed a while w her. dunno if you can answer that tho

12- well i dont blame at all julia for being enamored by vil enough to ask her on a dinner date, just like i dont blame eve for being insufferably jealous 

13- its so delicious to read the possessiveness innuendos. “Because I want her here.” “Because you want me.” “My consultant.””Yours” “Mine”

14- pleeeeeeeeeease vil begging for praise from eve on her first documented kill. god i love this.

15- vil seemed really thoughtful and touched by the russian food and the chef, it was truly genuine of her, i didnt feel like she faked it. sharing the candies w eve regardless of her on-face jealousy and cunty behavior looked so personal, it was like she was sharing whatever kind of life oksana had as a child in the shape of a candy.

16- its quite visible when strucks in eve that she was being rude enough to have vil teach her how to “sorry” sign.

17- is the grind an orphan’s season 2 the dialogue you added last minute? please i cant with these two actually discussing cannibalism

18- vil’s wondering abt making all of eve’s meals and leftovers!!! couldve been so gentle if it wasnt for the

19- yay! vil’s been cleared up! no threats on sight!

ps: you dont have to answer all of them and im not expecting you to!! i just throwned'em down.

:)

#anonwho #phew #tme

i will answer the ones i can !!

3. yes, confirmed she knows she shot eve and eve stabbed her; she is viper! neither of them have any idea about mortale tho

7 & 8. trust the process, my friend- if you're confused, you're meant to be

9. folie à deux- séparée avant, mais ensemble maintenant <3 genuinely one of my favourite little lines from tme

10. tysm !!! i am glad it seems to be coming across well

11. i can answer it! they fell asleep together, the phone rang with their wakeup call, and neither of them mentioned anything about it as they got up. author's note, it was some of the best sleep that either of them have had in years

15 & 16. i go crazy about in this post !!! throws up and dies !!!

17. yes :)

18. excuse you its very gentle, she just wants to keep her fed

[whileiwasdreaming]

Seasoned by taste

It has taken a while for my cooking skills to get to the point I felt comfortable asking for her pasta sauce recipe. It's not an old family recipe or anything secretive, I simply want to have a reasonable shot at having it come out palatable if not good.

It's then she tells me that she doesn't have an actual written recipe, but that she simply adds the ingredients, mixes, and tastes. Rinse, repeat until it's "right". In other words, an expert mode adventure where I'm all but certain to fail miserably.

As luck would have it, she added, "Just come over, I'll show you" in that voice that makes anything seem possible, "You can take whatever notes you need, but I'm sure you'll do fine either way."

That evening I get to the kitchen and see she has all the ingredients on the counter ready to go. Nice big tomatoes, some cloves of garlic, finely diced onion, parsley, basil, oregano and all the things you'd expect. I honestly couldn't identify everything because I'm still so green in the kitchen that unless it's labeled, it will be an educated guess at best.

With her apron cinched up, she smiles, points to the braiser and refers to it by name -- "Braiser. We'll add some EVOO and when ready throw in the onions and garlic to get this going".

Watching her work, even when I'm being teased, is a treat. Like a chef, she makes it look so easy. Before long in go the tomatoes and herbs and dashes and pinches from her long beautiful fingers. "Now we cover and let it simmer for a bit". A bit? My brain does not register that as an amount of time, but I'll note the time and when we check, I'll calculate the difference.

Fourteen minutes later, we check on the sauce. Like magic, it's looking like pasta sauce, not that I'm actually surprised. She's magic so of course it does.

Pulling out a fresh wooden spoon, "now we taste", she comments. I move closer behind her, place my hands on her hips to make sure I don't bump her into the stove and lean in. The fragrance from the sauce is divine. Lifting the spoon to her soft lips, she takes a taste and lets out a gentle, "Mmmmm. Just needs a pinch of paprika and it will be just right".

Twisting to her left where I'm leaning around her enjoying the smell nearly as much as the feel of her body in my hands, the spoon makes it slowly to my mouth for a taste. It is delicious as is, but if she says it needs paprika, I'm not going to argue with her.

A bit of sauce drips down from the corner of my mouth and instinctively her finger rises up to wipe it away. Always in "mom mode" no matter what.

With the seasoning added and a few more minutes of simmering and stirring it's ready for the next taste test.

I hustle over to the stove and as I reach my hands out to again lay my hands on her hips, she turns, the spoon already up to her mouth. We bump and more sauce than expected makes it's way to her lips and a wooden spoon sized area around them. I couldn't help but begin to snicker, but she didn't miss a beat. "Ok, now it tastes right".

Seeing the spoon is empty, I did what any sensible man would do. I leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on those saucy lips.

Her eyes opening slowly after the kiss, I made sure to look deep into them and remark, "I'm no chef, but I think your lips were the missing ingredient." She smirked and retorted, "and don't you forget it".

After dinner and cleaning up, it was nice to know I was right. Seconds and thirds of her lips, even without the sauce was, remains my favorite flavor.

[ahalyaxreddy]

“Rest in peace my poor little succulents. And more than that, my poor money tree. I’ve been in financial ruin since. I think my dead tree cursed me. Or is it haunts me?” Leave it to Ahalya to dramatize absolutely anything. She added a morose glance upwards, hoping that her plants were happy in plant heaven, getting all the sunshine and water that she failed to give them. “You know, genetics is a weird thing. I swear that I collectively got only their bad traits. How is that possible? My mom has like thick hair even today, and look at me, I swear I’m starting to bald.” Where her parents balanced each other out, Ahalya was the tornado that was completely unhinged in their house. Or so Geeta Reddy always claimed, and her daughter was now parroting to her best friend.

The eyeroll was reflexive, because she did that every single time her mother tried to gently broach the subject. “Prying is one thing. I can deal with prying. She’s been getting into matchmaking me these days! She’s been eyeing this guy we’ve known since I was a kid. He’s a doctor, well mannered, cultured.” She listed off all the traits that her mother admired about Arjun. Of course, Ahalya did not disagree. “But we’re just friends and she makes it so awkward, Har. Anytime we talk, I feel her grinning from across town.” And Ahalya was staunchly opposed to her parents being anywhere near her love life.

“I’ll leave it to you. Whatever you make, I’ll devour, and my mom will adore.” With the specifics for her mom’s cake figured out, Ahalya proved that she was no better than their prying families because she planted her face in her hands, elbows resting on the counter. “Butttttt anyways, what about you?” Voice sing-songy, she beamed. “Any special someone in your life? A dashing doctor, or a charming chef?” She didn’t intend for the alliteration but hey, sometimes she could be a poet without knowing.

Her smile slightly faltered, and she straightened when Harlow shared the details about Roman. She wasn’t sure if she’d seen him yet, but apparently there was a history that she was not made aware of. And why would she? It wasn’t like she was privy to the personal details of Samara’s life like Harlow was anymore. “Oh, wow, I. . . didn’t realize that she um, that her ex was in town. Is she. . . have you spoken to her about it? Is she okay?” Not a question that Ahalya could ask, but she still wished the best for Samara. So maybe she’d have a slight chip on her shoulder if she ever ran into this Roman guy. | @harlowmiller

Laughter bubbled over as Ahalya reminded her of their college days and the ill-fated dorm room garden. "Trust me, I haven’t forgotten that incident. I don’t think I ever will forget how bad you are at taking care of plants. Good to know, you got it from your parents, though," she teased—remembering how she had to console Ahalya over the demise of her plants. Those plants never stood a chance. "A plastic tree is more my speed. I can’t with the live ones. It’ll be dead in a day." She knew her strengths and weaknesses—it would be fruitless for her to sugarcoat things.

When Ahalya joked about her family's inquisitive nature regarding her love life, she honestly could relate. Her mom and dad were just as nosy, if not more. "Don’t you know, they pry because they care—or at least that's what mine tells me." She rolled her eyes, albeit fondly. After her mom’s passing, her aunt and uncle whom she’d thought of as parents were there for her. So even if they annoyed her, she knew they meant well. She just wished they wouldn’t pry into her love life as much.

"I've got you figured out, don't I?" She said with a wink, pleased that she still understood her best friend. "Thursday is perfect. I'll whip up something special—maybe a classic vanilla sponge with a twist. I could add her favorite fruit as a filling." Her mind was already churning—visualizing the design, her creative juices flowing. "And count me in for the surprise party. It'll be nice to catch up.” 

"Oh, have you met the new guy in town? His name is Roman. Seems pretty cool if it weren’t for the fact that he’s Sam’s ex," she added, before she could stop herself. Her stomach dropped, realizing her slip. Damn it! She hadn't meant to reveal that piece of gossip, especially not to Ahalya who was no longer in good terms with Sam. “Ignore that. I shouldn’t have said anything...” 

[ur-favorite-worst-generation]

Sensory Overload

We LOVE and respect Sanji in this household.

Looks like he loves and respects you, too!

Conversations flowed with the Straw Hats as easily as drinks did.

Sanji, ever attentive, topping off every glass without hesitation, making the additional dash here and there to fill plates back up. Chopper shoving chopsticks into his nose and mouth, Franky, Usopp, and Luffy following shortly after, Robin and Nami talking about the weather and the ocean and fossils. Brook playing music to liven up the room further.

Nights like this were perfect.

...

So why did you feel so awful?

Quietly excusing yourself from the table, you wiggled your way outside and exhaled a huge breath that you didn't know you were holding in. Some days the volume and nonsense made it feel like you were drowning. You would scratch at your skin until you could break the surface of the waves and inhale. You dug your palms into the corner of your eyes, quickly wiping away whatever tears had been threatening to fall.

"Hey." You shrieked, scrambling away a foot or two before your eyes focused on the tall, blond chef who had barely peeked out from behind the door.

"O-oh San... Sanji, hey." It made sense he noticed your absence. He probably noticed the fact that you had barely eaten anything, too, watching Luffy yank whatever was left on your plate and shovel it down his gullet before he had a chance to stop his captain.

"You've never not eaten my seafood risotto before," he finally finishes crossing the threshold to the small walkway that extended across the ship and takes out a cigarette before lighting it. "You all right?" You broke eye contact and looked back down, hands starting to fidget with the edges of your shirt.

Truthfully, you weren't. You could feel the edges of your stomach burn with hunger but your brain had been stopping you from eating, nausea tickling the back of your throat with each smell wafting from the kitchen. Your throat fell dry and thick when you tried to swallow down your words, Sanji didn't need to know, he was asking to be polite. That's just who Sanji was. There wasn't a sense of burdening him with the twisted thorns writhing in your brain and your gullet.

"Hey," you turned your head, now realizing that your vision was blurry from tears. When did you start crying? His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb swiping away the tears you hadn't noticed. His voice carried a gentler tone than you were used to, a husk added to it that you could probably equate to the morning voice you'd never heard. He transferred his cigarette to his hand, blowing the smoke away from your face before speaking. "What's going on?"

A nervous laugh bubbled up as he continued to gently swipe at the tears, dusting his hands off on the apron still wrapped around his waist. When his hands were off of you, you rubbed your eyes free of the stinging tears and quickly scratched at your scalp as a way to diffuse whatever static you felt in your brain. It didn't work, it never did. Your eyes peered through your lashes at him, still patiently standing there.

Words tumbled freely from your mouth, from the overstimulation of the noise to the way there were too many food smells tonight and the fact that it normally wasn't a problem but everything all at once and you just needed fresh air to clear your brain before you could walk back in there and your senses assaulted with -

His arms wrapped around you tightly, stopping the tirade that you were on, only causing you to burst into heavy sobs. His ever delicate hands stroked the back of your head, reassuring you that it was okay. You didn't need to be in there for the crew to love you, everybody has missed or skipped out early of a dinner or two to go about their own business. It's okay if you needed time - if you needed space. You missed when he tossed his cigarette and stomped it out, but you were hyperaware of the small, chaste kisses he pressed into the top of your head.

Neither of you knew how long you had stood there, Sanji waiting for your breathing to return to normal and you just waiting to... well, you supposed the same. You focused on the way he smelled. The smoke from his cigarette freshly stomped out, heated cooking oil, spices, rice, red meat, fish (tuna?). The longer you breathed it in, the easier it was to get through the mix. There was a cologne, you think, from early in the morning, one you had complimented him on a few weeks ago. The laugh you tried to let out was a little more choked than intended. Such a Sanji thing to do.

"You feeling better, pumpkin?" You flushed at the familiar nickname, choosing to bury your face deeper into his chest as his arms tightened around you instead of responding.

"Let's head back inside."

[litgwritersroom]

hey guys! i dont know if you’re taking requests for jake, but i had this thought in my head that mc surprises him by dining at the restaurant he works at, after not having seen him since love island. i’m sorry if this is too vague or short. it’s okay if you don’t vibe with it, no worries at all. take care <3

BLACK FOREST GÂTEAU

S1 | 2800+ words | @mrsbsmooth | Read on Ao3

Jake's in the kitchen, and in his own head. Ali's got alternate plans for both.

DNI if you're hungry. Many mentions of delicious food.

“One veal, and Jess, one gnocchi no parsley,” he called back, as he nodded his thanks at Sam, the waitress. 

“Yes, chef!” Jess called back.

Michelle followed soon after, she had a big table. 

“Five lamb, two veal, one cod” he called, making sure Mikhail had heard him. It was still only eight, and they had an hour and a half of dinner service left. He’d need to put more lamb on straight away if he was going to last the night.

“Yes, chef!” Mikhail called, immediately reaching for the marinades he’d already prepared. Good. He watched Naomi slide more tarte shells for dessert into the oven, and go to help Mikhail with the lamb. 

He smiled.

His staff knew what they were doing. They were like a sports team, or dancers, wordlessly coordinated and perfectly in sync. 

This was home.  

He was just chef here. He wasn’t oh-my-god-it’s-Jake-Wilson, oh-is-it-really?, my-days-I-feel-so-sorry-for-him, imagine-getting-rejected-like-that-and…

He sighed, tasting the mussels mouclade, and adding the tiniest dash of extra brandy, but frowned. It wasn’t the brandy it needed. What was it?

“Uhh… chef?” His Sommelier called, stepping around to approach him. 

Jake frowned. He shouldn’t be in the kitchen during service hours. 

“What is it, Andre?”

“Office?”

“I’ll watch the mussels,” Naomi called. 

Jake nodded, and stepped into the office. He felt like he was going to be sick as Andre pointed at the camera monitor. 

Right there, on Table 6. 

Ali. 

“What is she doing here?” Jake gulped. “Why… why would she come here? I’m almost certain she knows that this is where I…”

Ali knew. He was almost certain she knew. He hadn’t given his restaurant’s name on TV, but it wasn’t exactly a secret. It was all over the papers, all over the internet, in fact, it was one of the main reasons he didn’t go out front much any more. 

There was no way she didn’t know. 

“People were already talking as soon as she walked in. A few of them were taking pictures. I…”

Jake cursed under his breath. “Did she say anything?”

Andre nodded. “Only that she couldn’t wait to try the food.”

Jake stepped back into the kitchen, feeling more than a little shaken. By that time, the news had well and truly spread around the kitchen, but his staff maintained their diligent, coordinated cooking, not letting it distract them. 

God, he loved his team. 

He moved back to the mussels mouclade, tasting the sauce, and finding that whatever Naomi had done to them had been exactly what he’d wanted. 

“Naomi, what’d you add? It’s perfect.”

“More saffron,” she called back, and he shot her a thumbs up. 

He checked the stations, pushing Ali from his mind, as he realised that quail legs were running low. He set up, and pulled a pan down from the shelf, only to realise that Mikhail was already halfway through a batch. 

He sighed. He didn’t usually get too involved in the minutiae for dinner service, most of his focus being on the more delicate aspects such as the sauces and remoulades. But today, he just needed something to do. Anything to do. 

Naomi nudged him with her elbow, and pointed him toward a pile of portobello mushrooms which needed to be stuffed. He shot her a grateful look, and silently got to work, grateful that absolutely no one was saying a word about why he was suddenly interested in the most basic busywork he could find. 

Sam arrived with a small ticket, and Jess approached, taking it from her.

“Table 6, one tuna…”

Jake’s head snapped up. “What? No, she hates coriander.”

Jess raised an eyebrow at him. Jake flushed fifteen shades of red, and groaned loudly. 

Naomi arrived at his side. “Why is it bothering you so much? It’s not as if she won’t like the food.”

Jake shook his head. “No, you’re right. The food’s amazing, and we all know it.”

“Then what?” Naomi asked. “You worried about social media?”

He shook his head again. 

“Or is it that you know she’s come here as a last resort, because if she corners you at work you’ll have to talk to her?”

Jake closed his eyes, placing the half-stuffed mushroom back down onto the tray. “I’m going to start being a lot meaner to all of you so you stop seeing me as a human being with feelings.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jess scolded. “You can’t joke your way out of this one. Either talk to her, or sneak out the back door like a coward.”

“Is it unlocked?” he smiled, prompting a laugh from the whole kitchen.

“Jake,” she frowned, coming just shy of tutting him. 

“I think you mean chef?” he scolded. “We’re still in dinner service.”

“Alright, chef. Stop being a fucking pussy, and get ready to talk to the girl who broke your heart on national TV.”

The next 90 minutes were the longest of his life. He stuffed portobellos. Shaved fennell. De-boned chicken wings. Battered tempura prawns. Toasted sesame seeds. Anything and everything to get his mind off what was out there in the dining room. 

Every time a ticket came back, he tried to block it out, but she was ordering all of his favourites. Sam must’ve recommended them, because it was certainly an eclectic mix. To start, the raw tuna with ponzu dressing, chilli, ginger, sesame seeds, and avocado purée, hold the coriander. Then the white onion velouté with boneless chicken wings, king oyster mushrooms and aged Comté gougères. The Roast rose veal with piedmontese pepper and tempura courgette flowers for the main. 

Jake wondered if Andre was recommending the wines to go alongside her choices. He hoped he’d suggested the Beyer. Ali didn’t like reds, and she didn’t know much about wine. 

God, he hoped she liked it. 

He didn’t know why it was so bloody important to him that she did, but it was. He’d never been this nervous about someone eating his food before, not even his Michelin reviewer. He just needed her to like it. Because it was important to him. 

And so was she. 

The sting of her rejection was still far too fresh. But she hadn’t rejected him, really. She’d just said… nothing. 

He’d pulled her aside, up to the roof terrace, and poured out his heart to her. 

“I didn’t want to say anything, but I can’t hold it any longer. I’ve fallen for you. And I don’t want to go the rest of my life pretending that I haven’t. Call it shooting my shot, whatever you want to call it. I just know I’ll never forgive myself if I stood by and said nothing.”

And she’d just… frozen. Ali stood there, her mouth open, completely speechless, and staring at him. 

So he'd left. 

There wasn’t much point going all the way through to the finale with Talia, when he knew. He knew he was in love with someone else. He may as well go home, and get back to work. 

So that’s what he did. He packed his bags, and left the villa without so much as a goodbye. 

Ali picked Levi that night. And they’d won. Though, he supposed compared to Tim and Jen, anyone looked compatible.

Almost every night for the past two months, he’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he’d say to her if he ever saw her again. He’d apologise, first and foremost. It must’ve been just as humiliating and embarrassing for her as it was for him. But after that… he had no idea. 

So as the last orders came in, he overheard Jess call it out. 

“Table 6… black forest gâteau”

It was a dish for two. That was his cue.

Sam made her way over, and cleared her throat. “Chef… it’s pretty quiet out there now. Just so you know.”

He nodded, and the kitchen went silent as he washed his hands. He was sweaty, only partly from the hot ovens, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. 

Naomi plated the black forest for him, and he took it himself, Sam holding the door open for him as he took a step into the dining room. 

Even though he knew full well where Table 6 was, he spotted her instantly. From the very first day they’d met, she’d always had a way of drawing his attention in every room they’d shared. Tonight, dressed in a dazzling black dress, was no different.

Her face fell a little as she saw him, her innocent eyes widening as she immediately tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous quirk he’d seen so many times it almost hurt to remember. As he approached her table, though, she smiled a little, even moreso as he placed the beautifully formed black forest cake in the centre of her table.

“Didn’t think you liked cherries?”

“Wasn’t that big on raw tuna, either, until I tried yours,” she smiled. “Besides, it says it’s for two, and I knew you’d be smart enough to know to get your ass out here.”

He sat down opposite her, his hands practically shaking, as he noticed the bottle of Beyer sitting off to the side. He turned it, reading the label, nodding his approval.

Ali smiled. “Hi, Jake.”

He sighed. “Hi, Ali.”

“You look well,” she said, her voice quiet. He could feel her looking at him, but he couldn’t meet her eye. 

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to try your food,” she said, cutting the black forest cake in half, and placing a plate in front of him. “Which is fucking incredible, by the way.”

The two elderly ladies at the next table scoffed a little, and Jake couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

“Come on. Why are you really here?”

Ali sighed. “I’ve forgiven you.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’ve forgiven you, Jake. For what you did.”

Jake felt the words from every late night staring at the ceiling about to tumble out of him. “I’m so sorry, Ali. I humiliated you. I shouldn’t have said anything, and I put you in a really awkward position.”

Ali’s face screwed up, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Wha… Jake, I’m not mad you told me, I was furious you didn’t do it sooner!”

Jake’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I was chasing you from Day. One. I was throwing myself at you. For fuck’s sake, Jake, when we coupled up, I practically jumped you with how quickly I tried to stick my tongue down your throat. And when you finally kissed me, I was over the moon, I thought you’d finally figured it out. That night, in bed, and you were kissing me like it meant something.”

Jake’s eyes widened, his heart beating so fast he could feel it in his ears. 

Ali continued. “Time after time after time, I told you I wanted to be with you, and you told me you were happy to just be my friend, or that I should explore other connections. I wanted you from the second I saw you, and you just kept turning me down. And just as I’d begun to let go, and made my peace with settling for Levi, you came and shoved the grenade down my throat that you’d liked me the whole bloody time. The fuck, Jake?”

What?

“But Ali, I didn’t think you felt–”

“No. Nuh-uh. I know for a fact you’re bloody brilliant, so you don’t get to play dumb. You were hiding your feelings on purpose because you didn’t want to get hurt, and all it did was mess with my head. Whatever the opposite of leading me on is, that’s what you did. That’s what I was mad at you for. And I’m bloody glad I didn’t say anything to you before you left, because the way I was feeling in that moment, you would’ve left with two new arseholes.”

Jake couldn’t think straight enough to laugh, but Ali didn’t seem to mind, groaning softly as she took her first taste of the black forest cake in front of her. 

“Urgh, I wish I could have just stayed mad at you. Especially because you just left. You just said your piece, and fucked off. You didn’t even give me a chance to reply, let alone leave me your number, or tell me that you were leaving. Even if I had turned you down, that was harsh.”

“You did turn me down,” Jake frowned. “Well, at least, you didn’t tell me you felt the same. Which is practically the same thing.”

Ali glared at him, and shook her head. “No. It’s not the same thing. I never turned you down. I was too busy trying not to strangle you. And by the time I’d calmed down enough to tell you I’d been in love with you since the first time you read me one of those shitty poems, you’d already left. Now, what I want to know, is why you didn’t tell me earlier.”

Jake tried to force some words into his mouth, but none would form. 

Had he heard her right?

“You… you what?”

Ali rolled her eyes. “Yes, Jake. Your feelings were very much reciprocated. Which you would’ve known, had you not immediately run off.”

“Ali… I…”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Jake swallowed, hard. “I just… I never thought you’d see me like that. You’re like, the brightest star in the sky, and I’m like… a black hole. I’m terribly shy, I’m a horrid perfectionist, I’m sappy, I’m stubborn, I probably drink a little too much, and once I get in my own head, I find it impossible to get out of it. Why on earth would a girl like you even look twice at me?”

Ali’s lips were parted, staring at him as if she’d just heard something truly unbelievable. “Is that really how you see yourself?”

Jake frowned, and nodded, his gesture full of uncertainty. 

“Jake… you are creative. You are romantic. You’re an absolute fucking gentleman, and you go out of your comfort zone if it means standing up for someone you care about. You’re open, you’re honest, you’re unbelievably gentle, and you’re so bloody thoughtful. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you held back the coriander from my tuna.”

The blood rushed to Jake’s cheeks before he could stop it. “That’s very kind of you to say all that.”

Ali groaned in frustration, as one of the two old ladies leaned over. “Will you stop being so bloody polite, and just tell the girl you were an idiot, please? She’s come all the way here, and you’re ruining our chocolate mousse. Which is delicious, by the way.”

Ali beamed at them. “Thank you, Ladies. And yes, I agree. Just admit you were a fucking idiot, and we can get on with it and be together like we should’ve been for months.”

Jake almost fell off his chair. He was completely dumbstruck, just for a moment, before taking Ali’s hand in his. 

“Ali, I’m so sorry. I wanted you from the minute I saw you. I never should have pretended I didn’t. And I promise, I never will again.”

“Good. Now let me eat this stupidly delicious black forest cake that made me love cherries.”

She didn’t let go of his hand, using the side of her fork to cut into her gâteau, but Jake’s stomach was already completely full with butterflies.

He was completely speechless, completely beside himself, he… just… what?

Jake stood, the cutlery and glasses clattering as his chair scraped against the floor. Ali looked up at him with amusement, but her face quickly fell in surprise as he pulled her to her feet. Restaurant be damned, customers be damned, he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way ever again. 

He took her face in his hands, and he kissed her. 

Hard.

She was cherries and chocolate and wine and cream, she was light and excitement and a summer breeze and fresh bread, she was every single thing he’d ever wanted, and she was his. 

He heard quite a few gasps, but he couldn’t care less. They could take photos. Put things on the internet, God, he hoped they did. He wanted to world to know. Ali was his, she loved him back, and she always had.

She pushed him away, and looked up at him, disapprovingly. 

“Mr. Wilson, you are interrupting my dessert,” she scolded.

He beamed at her, the mischief sparkling in her eyes as she tried to keep a straight face. 

And as he leaned down to her again, he pulled her even closer, whispering into her ear. 

“I don’t fucking care.”

And as he kissed her again, he could’ve sworn he felt her lips curl into a soft smile. 

Nothing was going to stop him from kissing her ever again.

[devildomimagines]

Part 2 Remix

Ok, listen. First, I’m going to need you to go read this *chef’s kiss* of a post if you haven’t already. The Brothers and Undateables at one of Diavolo’s balls when a Noble starts talking down on MC by @arcadejohn127-9. There is now a part 2 for the ending (and it has been up for a while haha)!

Somewhere after the first post was published but before we had the ending, I started writing my own twist on the ending because I was so inspired and because I needed the comfort from the hurt/comfort lol. I’ve finally gotten around to finishing it and I wanted to share. You will see why it took me so long as some of these parts really ran away from me. The younger brothers and the Undateables are under the cut to save everyone’s dash. 😂

Lucifer

For a second he was torn, making that Noble pay or chase after you.

The choice was obvious, you came first.

As he made his way through the crowd, Diavolo caught his eye. 

With a few quick gestures, Lucifer had communicated he was going after you. Diavolo nodded, making his way to the Noble to take care of that side of it.

The crowd opened up enough for Lucifer to see the door to the butler’s pantry close.

He had to catch up to you before you met up with Barbatos. 

His worst fear right now is that you would take advantage of Barbatos’ power and have the timeline altered to where you never came to Devildom and never met him.

Once he was close enough he used a blast of magic to open the door and rushed into the room.

You had been wiping your tears but with the door bursting open, you jumped and scowled at who was entering. Realizing it was Lucifer, your face softened but looked away.

“You’re still here,” Lucifer held a hand on his chest, allowing himself a moment of relief.

“Well it’s not like I can teleport or fly. I’m just a human.”

The way you talked down about yourself made Lucifer’s own heart drop, your pact physically affecting him, your pride was at the lowest he had ever felt. 

As the Avatar of Pride, he wouldn’t stand for it. “You’re not just a human, MC. You’re unbelievably important.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because I’m Lilith’s descendant and a part of the exchange program.”

“No, you’re important because you bring kindness and joy into everything you do. You’re important because you’ve become the anchor I’ve been trying to be for my family for centuries. You’re important because you truly try to make a meaningful difference even when it’s difficult.” Lucifer moved in front of you, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “You’re important because I love you.”

Mammon

When he recovered from the shock, he looked around.

The first brother he saw was Levi. He marched over and ordered him to deal with the Noble.

Next he moved in the direction you had stormed off in. He finally caught up to you at the coat check.

You noticed him and looked away pretending you didn’t.

“MC! You going home? I’ll go with,” he dug out his own coat ticket and handed it over to the coat checker.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m going where you go,” He moved to sling an arm around your shoulder like he normally does but you shrugged out of his reach. That hurt.

“Well maybe I am stupid! Just a big dumb human who doesn’t realize they’re being used.” You hugged yourself to try to self-soothe.

It took a few moments for Mammon to register all of your words, “What? Who’s using you? Was it that Noble??” He scowled back at the ballroom.

“No, forget it.” You started walking to the exit.

He growled as he grabbed his coat and jogged to catch up to you.

You heard the rushed footsteps and paused more out of habit than anything else. “Mammon, stop.”

He had made it right behind you before he was forced to stop, the pact binding him in place. That didn’t stop his mouth though, “MC, whatever that Noble said to you, it’s a lie!”

“You don’t know what he said,” you replied coldly, “He said that I’m being used, by you and your brothers, by Diavolo, he said that none of you ever really cared about me, I was just a replacement for Lilith.” Repeating the words made them worse, it had you shaking as the sobs started to rattle your body.

“MC,” Mammon whined your name, clearly trying to force his body to move, “drop the spell,” you shook your head no so he begged, “Please MC.”

His desperation softened your resolve for a moment long enough to release the hold you had on him.

Mammon immediately turned you to face him, your tears broke him and he started tearing up. He pulled you into his chest and started, “We never thought of it that way. I was so relieved that Lilith got to lead a fulfilling life where she didn’t have to suffer turning into a demon. You were the result of her happy life that it made me so happy, unbelievably happy. But I liked you before we knew all of that, I was the first of my brothers to see how great you are.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “MC, I love you so much. Please don’t doubt that.”

Leviathan

“Ouch,” he thought as he looked around. The first of his brother’s he found was Beel, his height and orange hair made him stick out. He was also in the most likely place to find him, in front of a table of food.

Levi maneuvered around party guests and tapped at Beel’s shoulder. Very quickly he explained the situation, Beel nodded with a piece of meat hanging out of his mouth and started muscling his way through the dance floor.

Next was to face you. He was nervous, had he done something he wasn’t aware of? Did the Noble point out his inferiority and MC was disgusted to have a pact with him?

He got to the bathroom and hesitated. He could hear your soft cries muffled behind the door. All nervousness left him as he knocked and called out to you, “MC?”

The cries stopped and you answered, “Go away.”

“No,” Where was this confidence coming from, he wondered as he added, “I’m here for you, please let me help you.”

“You can’t help me, you’re part of the problem.”

All of the confidence he just had was shattered. “MC… I’m sorry. If it was something I did, or didn’t do, please tell me. You know I don’t know how to handle these situations but I would never try to hurt you.”

The door swung open and Levi jumped. 

“And why is that Levi?” Your tear stained face stared him down.

“Because I c-care about you?” He was confused why you were angry at him now.

“Because I’m a replacement for Lilith?”

“No way!” Now it was his turn to be angry.

A bit of the venom was removed as you asked, “Because I’m a dumb normie human?”

“Well…” He started to joke but when you pouted he took it back, “of course not.”

“Then why?” You sniffled.

Levi looked around, you two were in a pretty secluded area. He took a deep breath and braced himself so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. “I wouldn’t hurt you because we’re a team! My player 2, my Henry, my friend! When I agreed to form a pact with you, it was because you opened my eyes to how valuable it would be to let people into my world. At that time, I had no idea about Lilith, Lucifer kept us in the dark and I chose not to seek out the light. Then you came into my life and you were so bright it hurt my eyes.” He was rambling, “Anyway, you might be a normie human but you’re my normie human! Whatever that Noble said to make you question that, it isn’t true.”

After a beat, you jumped into his arms. His heart was absolutely pounding as he wrapped you in his arms, he knew you’d hear it but he was relieved he somehow said the right thing.

Satan

He knew it was the Noble that caused your mood shift.

You retreated through a door, Satan didn’t have time to make the Noble suffer in the ways he was already imagining. 

As he headed for the door himself, he bumped into Lucifer.

It was grinding on his nerves but for your sake he asked Lucifer to take care of the Noble.

Without question, Lucifer whisked off to take care of it. He probably knew it was important since Satan would never ask anything of Lucifer if it wasn’t necessary.

Satan picked up the pace to get to the door and catch you.

He looked down both sides of the connecting hall and found you leaning against the wall facing away from where you had come from.

As he approached he realized your shoulders were shaking. It broke his heart.

When he placed a hand on your arm, you jumped out of your skin and stepped away. 

You relaxed seeing it was Satan and not someone else but making eye contact with him hurt, “Leave me alone, I just need a moment.”

You had turned to leave but he wasn’t letting you go again. He regripped your arm.

“Don’t go.”

“Satan…” You sighed trying to bring back some of your usual strength.

“Whatever that Noble said…” A thought dawned on him mid-sentence, “Did he do something to you?” The wrath in him bristled anew.

“He didn’t do anything besides point out some things.” You laughed weakly, “Actually he made some good points I should have seen for myself a long time ago.”

“What points did he make?” Satan asked.

You looked down the hall, debating an escape, “That I was just a pawn to Diavolo’s plans and a replacement for Lilith.”

“That’s not true,” Satan defended.

His tone of finality made you look back at him. He took the opportunity to explain.

“You’re no one’s pawn. You always had and will always have your free will to do as you want. Just as you’ve shown me that I’m my own being,” he held a hand to his chest, “You are your own person.”

You scoffed, “and being related to Lilith-”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Satan interrupted and finished the sentence. “I’ve heard all the stories from my brothers but I never met her. I met you though,” His hand moved down your arm to your hand.

Automatically you gave his hand a squeeze just falling into habit and he smiled.

“It doesn’t matter how you got here,” Satan started, hoping you would complete the quote from a book you both read.

Quietly you added, “All that matters is you’re here now.”

He pulled you into his arms and you let him engulf you in a warm embrace. It was so different from the sharp, cold feeling you got from the Noble that it felt like home to be here with him.

“I’ll always be here for you MC,” he whispered and you believed him.

Asmodeus

Well clearly something was wrong, you never pulled back from him like that.

He first looked around for some assistance. Things had been fine before your dance with the Noble so something happened in relation to that dance.

The first person he spotted was Satan. Asmo waved him over to the table. Satan nodded and departed from the company he had been talking to. Asmo quickly described the situation in a pretty grim light knowing exactly what would flip the wrath switch in Satan.

The blond demon stalked off after his newly provided prey.

Asmo checked his appearance in a pocket mirror before setting after you. It wasn’t like he had something on his face or a hair out of place that drove you off but he had to be sure.

He found you looking out over the Devildom with the most somber look on your face.

“MC~ You look absolutely stunning under the Devildom moon.”

You sighed. 

That wasn’t the reaction Asmo was aiming for. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong, love?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to smile but it didn’t light up your face like he knew it could.

“Ok,” Asmo put up his hands. He could take a hint, you didn’t want to talk about it and he wasn’t going to push and make it worse. “Let’s go home then?”

“I know you don’t want to leave. You’ve been looking forward to this all month,” You looked back out at the cityscape.

“Well I don’t want to be here if you’re not having fun,” Asmo snaked an arm around your waist and looked out across the city himself.

He felt you stiffen under his touch and he tried very hard not to pout outwardly but you rejecting him really hurt.

He said he wasn’t going to push but he had to know, “Did the Noble say something unacceptable to you?”

“No, if anything it was too acceptable, factual even.” You leaned away from him and against the railing as your face soured further.

“What did he say?”

“That I’m being used,” you looked at him to see how he reacted to the second part, “by Diavolo and your family.”

His brow furrowed and you knew it was genuine emotion since he would never risk the wrinkles otherwise.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Asmo shook his head, “That’s absolutely not what’s happening.”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “we all have our part to play.”

“MC,” Asmo took your shoulders and stared you down, “You are not just some pawn, you’re a very important human to me and my family!”

You looked to the side, “Only because I’m related to Lilith.”

“No? We love you for you!”

You blushed at his blunt honesty, “Oh.”

“Did you think that we didn’t care about you before we learned that you were distantly related?”

“No!” You defended, “But when he was laying out all the info, it did kind of seem like that.”

“Who are you going to trust? Some random or me?” Asmo batted his eyes at you.

After a moment you conceded, “You, of course.”

You both giggled and he whisked you to the dance floor to show you the best night of your life.

Beelzebub

“Wait MC-” Beel jumped up from table, his knees knocked it and it wobbled as he pushed his chair back.

“You couldn’t just leave like that,” he thought, “I can’t lose another…”

He found you on the front balcony. From what he could guess, you paused to take in the fresh air but then watched as you steeled yourself and briskly started your way down the stairs.

“MC,” he caught up easily even in his formalwear, “Let me at least walk you back to the dorm.”

You hesitated, not making eye contact with him, you shrugged, “fine.”

The two of you walked in silence. Beel had no idea what to say to make you stay. He cursed himself that words didn’t come as easily to him like Asmo or Mammon, he couldn’t relate it to something he read or watched like Satan or Levi usually did and he couldn’t think of the perfect solution like he knew Lucifer would.

He was the only thing standing between you and the metaphorical exit and he had to do something. 

So he did the only thing he could think of and apologized. “I’m sorry.”

It made you stop, “What?”

“I’m sorry. If it was something I said or did or ate, I’m sorry. If it was one of my brothers then I’m also sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.” Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t usually one to cry but he was so frustrated and felt so helpless. If this wasn’t what you wanted then you’d be gone.

“No,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, I took out my frustration on you. I’m not mad at you or your brothers. If anything, I’m mad at myself,” you laughed dryly.

“Yourself?” Beel repeated, trying to figure out how he could help you with that.

“Yeah, I should have seen it for myself but that Noble was right,” you continued onwards to HOL.

“Right about what?”

You finally looked at him and it crushed him to see the saddest smile on your face as you answered, “That I’m just some kind of replacement for Lilith. I thought you all really cared about me but your behavior did change after everyone learned I was related to her.”

Beel was frozen in shock. He watched you pick up walking home again.

“That’s not-” he started but you raised a hand to stop him.

“I get it, you guys were so happy that she lived that you wanted to show it in some way,” this time when you turned toward him you couldn’t keep the tears from falling, “and in a way I’m grateful because if I wasn’t her descendant then I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have met you all, and I wouldn’t have been a part of a family like yours. But I’m selfish and I wanted you to love me for who I am.”

He was finally unfrozen and wrapped you in a near-bone-crushing hug. “We do!” Beel confirmed, “We love you, MC!” He began crying, “I love you, please don’t leave.”

Enclosed in his arms, you felt his earnest emotions flood into you, “I believe you,” you wiped his tears, “Thank you for loving me.”

Belphegor

He knew it, that Noble was bad news.

Belphie looked around and easily found Asmo in the middle. He pushed past his fans and told Asmo what happened. Asmo left to take care of the Noble.

Belphie caught up with you in your room back at the HOL.

He had followed the noise and found you were angrily packing a bag, in between wiping your face.

“What’re you doing?” Belphie asked from the door.

The sudden voice made you jump, “Leaving.”

“Why?”

You paused, wringing the shirt in your hand, “We’d all be better off.”

“Because you’re a replacement?” Belphie threw your words back at you but realized his mistake too late.

When you shuddered and fell to your knees crying he wanted to disappear. How could he be so tactless?

“Yes! I’m not Lilith!” You cry-yelled at him. “I wanted so badly to be a part of your family. I did everything for you and your brothers to make amends, to prove myself and my intentions and it didn’t matter! The second you all learned about my lineage, it all changed.” 

You sniffled and added, “You hated me for being a human, I’d almost prefer that if that is honestly how you feel about me.”

Ouch. But he deserved that, “I don’t hate you,” he knelt in front of you.

“I’m just a stupid human,” he grabbed your arms and pulled you into him as you sobbed, “I don’t want to be used as a pawn, and I’m not a replacement for your sister.”

“I know, MC,” Belphie soothed, “You’re not a pawn and we know you aren’t a replacement for Lilith.”

“B-but,” you blubbered.

“No buts,” there was an edge to his voice, that he wasn’t going to take any rebuttals. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to move forward as a family. We’d be worse off without you in our lives.”

You shifted back a bit to look at him, “Really?”

“Really,” Belphie verified. “Don’t go,” his voice caught in his throat, his own emotions finally hitting him. What would he do without you?

You grabbed his face, assessing for yourself. “Ok…ok.” You relaxed in his hold and finally felt secure in how he felt about you.

Diavolo

You ducked into the kitchen.

He tried to follow but got stopped by a high ranking demon that he could not brush off. He was trapped, that is until Barbatos caught his gaze.

The butler swooped in, distracted the demon with appetizers and began leading them away.

Ever grateful, Diavolo smiled and then another thought hit him. He stopped Barbatos and whispered in his ear what happened between you and the Noble. Barbatos nodded and made his way to find and complete his new task.

Diavolo jumped into the kitchen before anyone else could stop him.

“MC?” he looked around and found you sitting on the counter with your head in your hands. His heart dropped.

You sniffled, “Go back to your party.”

“I don’t feel like it.” he mused.

“What a spoiled prince,” you replied.

He felt hopeful, if you were joking then surely you would recover. “Won’t you tell me what happened?”

When you tensed, he stopped inching closer.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.” 

“That’s not true,” Diavolo tried to take your hands but you fought him slightly, still trying to cover your face. When you finally relented and looked at him with tear stains on your face, he swore he never felt a greater rush of love and the need to protect like he did in that moment, “You’re so important to me.” 

“Because I’m an exchange student?” You searched his face for any reaction.

“What?” He was actually dumbfounded. “You think that’s the only reason I care for you?”

“What other reason could there be? Isn’t that the whole point of why I was here in the first place?”

He paused to gather his thoughts. There were so many reasons to love you and the fact that you could be undone like this from one conversation proves that Diavolo was failing you. Still holding your hands, he raised one to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll admit that at first, my goal to build bridges between the realms was my focus, but as the program went on, I found myself looking forward to our meetings. Much to Barbatos’ chagrin, I would sneak out to steal a few moments with you and they meant everything to me.”

You had begun rubbing his hand with your thumb, tears were gone but you still looked sad.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I didn’t meet you. You’ve brought a joy and sense of adventure into my life that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“Thanks Dia,” When you smiled softly, he could swear his heart was melting into a puddle. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”

“Nonsense!” Diavolo laughed and backed up to help you off the counter, “The night’s still young and I think I owe you a dance.”

You squeezed his hand, “Wait, I probably look terrible from crying!”

The kitchen door swung open to Barbatos trying to hold back Asmo. Asmo chirped, “We can help with that!”

Diavolo laughed at the sight. Barbatos sighed and released Asmo as he whipped out his travel make-up kit and busied himself with you.

Barbatos stood next to Diavolo and in a hushed tone affirmed, “The target has been captured.”

A dark look passed over Diavolo’s face as he responded, “Good. We’ll deal with him in the morning.”

Barbatos

He wanted to chase after you but his duty was of course to Diavolo and the ball at hand.

Within a few moments, he reasoned that the ball was in danger of being compromised if you weren’t there and the Noble was allowed to roam free of consequence.

Barbatos wasn’t one to ask for help but he knew that if he mentioned the Noble’s actions to Lucifer, the demon would take matters into his own hands to deal with it and Lucifer did so.

That left him to track you down. He had a feeling of where he’d find you.

Out in the garden, seated on the bench, you were fidgeting with his handkerchief.

Careful to make noise as he approached you so as to not spook you with his usually silent steps, Barbatos sat on the other end of the bench.

He caught you peeking at him so he tried not to look directly at you, knowing it would make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for this,” you held out his handkerchief.

“Any time,” he accepted it and even through his gloves, he could feel the dampness. Had he left you alone for too long to have cried this much? Very slowly he folded the cloth and put it in his pocket.

“Also I’m sorry for my behavior before.” You shifted and began to explain, “I was confused and hurt, that Noble… actually nevermind.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me, though I am sorry for the distress you’ve gone through.”

Still bothered, you had to ask, “Why do you tolerate me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you only nice to me because you’re under orders to be?”

He couldn’t lie, “Lord Diavolo has directed me to be of use to the exchange students, but I’ve come to genuinely appreciate your company, if that isn’t too presumptuous.”

You peeked over again and could see a light blush on the butler’s cheeks, he wasn’t looking at you now out of embarrassment.

That earned a small smile, “It’s not, I’m grateful to hear your true feelings.” You paused thinking on what the Noble said, “Do you think the others feel the same? That they actually like me, not as some replacement for Lilith or as a tool to be used?”

Ah so that’s the idea that the Noble had planted, he rubbed his chin in thought. “While I can’t speak for the brothers, I can conclude that you mean much more to Lord Diavolo than he’d like to admit. He has never spoken ill of you in my presence. Even Lucifer, who has often verbalized his distaste for his brothers’ shenanigans, has never voiced the same of you even if you were involved in said shenanigans.”

“Well that’s something.”

“It certainly is,” He confirmed.

You giggled and it was like Barbatos was hearing his favorite song for the first time. 

After a beat, he stood, brushed himself off more out of habit than any actual dirt accumulation and faced you. You looked slightly surprised. He bowed and offered his arm, “Shall we head back in?”

Hesitantly, you took his hand, “Can I stay with you?”

“If that is what you desire,” Barbatos smiled and led your hand to hold his arm, “How could I deny a direct request like that?”

Solomon

He was stunned for a minute. Had you meant him and you weren’t on the same page or the humans and the demons weren’t on the same page?

Solomon was pretty sure that the pacts were a clear indicator of a human and a demon being on the same page.

This was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of one of his new pacts, he sent the demon to gather as much information, good and bad, that they could dig up about the Noble that had danced with you.

If knowledge was power then he wanted as much knowledge on his side as he could get before making a move.

That left him free to follow you. He caught the sight of you as you left into an adjoining hallway.

Shuffling through the crowd he broke free and got himself through the door. He looked both ways and found you at the end, turning the corner.

Although not one for running, he jogged down the hall to catch up with you.

You had turned to watch for the approaching noise and at the sight of your watery eyes he skidded to a stop.

Solomon couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you cry, not like this, where your whole being seemed depleted.

“MC…”

“I’m fine,” you wiped the tears away quickly, “I was dumb for thinking that any of this meant something to them, that’s on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The exchange program, the demons, everything here was just all part of Diavolo’s plan and I played right into it.” Bitterly you added, “I was a pawn and I couldn’t even see it.”

“That’s not true,” Solomon rebuked. “I’m sure they did not count on you making pacts with the 7 demon brothers. They are extremely high ranking, that wasn’t an easy feat.”

“They’re not any better, they probably only did so because I was some sort of replacement for Lilith.”

“Lilith… oh yes the fallen angel that almost did not survive.” He nodded as he remembered, “Is that what they said when they made the pact with you?”

“Well not exactly…” you admitted.

“I see,” he took your hand and pulled you to a nearby bench, “I happen to know a bit about pacts.”

You rolled your eyes but he took it as a good sign, “And when entering the pact, usually one or both parties admit their reason behind entering the contract. Usually it’s the human asking for something only that demon can offer like money, power or influence, but that wasn’t the case for you was it?”

“No.”

“What was it that they were looking for from you?”

You didn’t answer for a while, thinking back on each of the pacts being forged. “If I had to sum it up for all of them, love or acceptance.”

Huh, that was pretty straightforward, Solomon wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. “That seems like something only you could have given them, I doubt they would want the same from me.”

You laughed, “I wouldn’t say that, Asmo really loves you, he always talks about you.”

Solomon groaned for effect but you both knew he cherished the bond with the demon.

“You were never their pawn, they chose to offer the pact and you chose to accept, that was not something orchestrated by someone else.”

Finally, you nodded, seeing his perspective. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he joked.

With a light punch of his arm, you both made your way back to the party. Solomon planned on showing you a magical night.

Simeon

The walk back to Purgatory Hall was quick, too quick for Simeon to figure out what happened.

He’d seen you dancing but not who with, also why had you been in such a hurry to get away from the brothers? He thought things were going well with them.

“I’ll put on some tea, ok?” Simeon offered as you two entered the front door.

You nodded and sat at the table.

“Simeon~” Luke called, “You’re back early!” The cherub entered the room and saw you from behind, “And MC!? What a treat!”

Luke came up to your side and caught your sad expression before you could turn away. “What happened?” He shot an accusatory glare at Simeon.

Simeon looked shocked, Luke thought you were upset because of him?

“It’s nothing Luke,” you replied softly, “you were right, I shouldn’t have trusted demons.”

The two angels looked at each other shocked, neither had expected that. “Well of course!” Luke defended, “What did they do?”

You sighed, you didn’t see a way to brush them both off so you recanted the dance with the noble, the things he knew about you and the ideas he had brought to your attention.

Luke chomped down on a cookie, “Well he’s not wrong about Diavolo’s plan.”

“Luke,” Simeon admonished, “I’ve known Diavolo for a long time, he’s not one to use others for personal gain, even if he is a demon. He’s always preferred to do things his own way.”

“And those brothers?” Luke asked. You looked at Simeon expectantly, your face repeating the question, ‘And those brothers?’

“I’ve known them for a long time too. Of course they adored their sister Lilith, we all did. But no one could serve as her replacement because she was irreplaceable.” Simeon allowed that thought a moment to sink in. “I think that you've made your own bonds with them, different and separate from your ancestral lineage.”

“I suppose…” You conceded.

“Why do you even put up with them MC?” Luke offered.

Now you had to laugh, “For a while I thought they were the ones putting up with me.”

“No way!” 

“Yes way,” you smiled at him as you sipped your tea. “I think you forget sometimes that you’re all powerful beings and I am not.”

Luke blushed, “You’re powerful, in your own way!”

“Thank you,” you put your hand on his cheek and he smiled. 

You looked over at Simeon, “Can I spend the night here?” 

Although he still sensed some sadness from you, it certainly was not the same level as he had felt when he bumped into you before.

“Yes!” Luke answered first, “Please Simeon!”

With the two of you giving him pouty looks, “How can I say no?”

“Yay!” Luke cheered and ran from the room, “Sleep over!”

“It’s alright if you’d rather not entertain Luke all night,” You offered, “I can go back to the HOL, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easy,” Simeon teased, “He probably has six movies lined up already and he has been practicing making pillow forts in his room.”

You both laughed, “I appreciate you listening Simeon, I’m glad I have a guardian angel like you,” you winked as you joined Luke on the floor. He did already have a stack of movies to watch.

Simeon blushed and then shook his head to clear his thoughts as he joined the blanket pile.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Mario Kart Double Dash

(Story Post)

Theo and Henderson were both at the former's apartment watching TV when his phone went off. Unfortunately, he'd left it on the kitchen counter and it wasn't easy to move from the couch now that he was 16 weeks pregnant with alien quadruplets. “I got it,” Henderson said getting up to swipe the phone and handed it to Theo. “Merci,” Theo said as he took it and checked the caller ID. He was surprised to see it was Korsy. He answered it. “Hello?” “Theo, you home?” “Yeah.” “Okay, I'm coming up.” “Do you need me to open the balcony door?” “No, I'll take the elevator,” Korsy said. “Just buzz me in?” “Yeah, for sure.”

A few minutes later Korsy was knocking on the door. Henderson let him in. Korsy's usual smirking nature had dissolved into a more frantic and nervous demeanour. He waved to Theo on the couch. “Hey, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” “No. Would it matter?” Theo sighed. “Are you alright, man?” Henderson asked putting a hand on Korsy's shoulder. “You look pale.” “No, I'm fine…” Korsy said, scratching the back of his head. No one was convinced. “Theo, how have you been?” Theo shrugged. “No more morning sickness. Not in a while, anyway…” “Well, that's good!” Korsy said. He patted Henderson's back. “And I imagine you're taking good care of him?” “Doing my best.” He closed the door behind Korsy. “Are you hungry?” “No, no,” Korsy said. “Have you eaten recently?” Henderson added. “Do you have allergies or dietary restrictions?” “I, uh, no, not really and no,” Korsy said. “But I'm not hungry, it's okay.” “Alright.” Henderson went into the kitchen anyway and started heating up a bowl of stew. “Come sit,” Theo said. “Talk to me.” Korsy went over and sat down, although he still didn't seem particularly relaxed. “You need to tell me what's up,” Theo said. “You are clearly upset about something.” “Yeah, well, I, uh…” Korsy took a deep breath. “Um, I have a friend I've been, you know, getting benefits from and we're not serious or anything, but uh…” Henderson came back and placed the bowl of stew in Korsy's hands before going and sitting down himself. “Eat.” “Oh, uh. Thanks.” “Don't mention it.” Korsy took a moment to try some of the broth. “This is very good.” “My mother sent it over,” Henderson said. “Tell her she's an incredible chef,” Korsy said. “I will. Now, please continue. What's this about a friend with benefits?” “Right…” Korsy scratched the back of his neck. “We didn't know it was possible, but I might've…gotten him pregnant.” Theo's eyes widened. “Oh my god, really?” “How would you believe it wasn't possible?” Henderson asked. “Is he trans?” “No, he's cis. That's why we didn't think it could happen,” Korsy said. “How did it happen, then?” Theo asked. “Or ‘maybe’ happen.” “It's kinda weird and complicated,” Korsy explained. “But he accidentally ate something he shouldn't have and it gave him a womb and now he doesn't want to talk to me and I don't know what to do.” “Um, what in the world did he eat?” Henderson asked. “Alien made stuff,” Korsy said. “You don't have to worry about it. APID has it now. Probably will study it then destroy it.” “Okay, as long as it's not like some weird new mango or something,” Theo said. “Although, do they have to destroy it?” Henderson said. “I bet some transwomen would love that. Even some cis gay couples trying to have kids.” “Well, they are studying it,” Korsy said. “Too untested and unregulated as it is right now.” “Yeah, that's fair,” Henderson said. “Well, you don't know yet for sure if he's pregnant, right?” Theo said. “It could just be a close call.” “That's what we're hoping,” Korsy said. “But, I just… I don't want this to ruin what we have going on. At first it was just sex, but I feel like we're becoming good friends, like you and me.” “I've met you like three times,” Theo said. “That's a lot for me, to be honest,” Korsy said. “I'm away so much, if I want to make friends, it has to be quick.” “Also fair,” Henderson said. “Well, if you're going to be my friend, you have to understand that you don't leave my house hungry.” “This isn't your house,” Theo argued. “Wherever I am is home,” Henderson stated. “You certainly act like it…” Theo said. “Oh hush, you love that I feed you,” Henderson said, patting Theo’s belly. “Your mom feeds me,” Theo argued as well. “That's only sometimes. I cook for you.” Henderson turned back to their guest. “Korsy, don't you wrap it up?” “I do when there's, you know, a vagina involved. Or if they're not tellurian,” Korsy said. “Otherwise, it's whatever they want. Elves don't get STIs.” Henderson looked to Theo again. “Can you confirm?” “Confirm what?” Theo huffed. “I don't know if elves get STIs!” “No, you two almost boned,” Henderson said. “Did he wrap it up for you?” Theo blushed. “Oh. Uh, yes he did. Can we not talk about that? That was so embarrassing…” “What? It's nothing to be embarrassed about,” Henderson said. “You seduced an elf.” “Hardly, he seduced me,” Theo said. “I am certainly attracted to you,” Korsy admitted. Theo pulled a blanket over his head. “Seriously, this is too much…” “Elves certainly seem to like you as much as you like them,” Korsy said. “Considering how many you keep in company.” Henderson frowned, eyeing Korsy. “You're not still on about me being an elf?” “You're still denying it?” Korsy inquired. “I'm not an elf!” Henderson exclaimed. “The thing is, you are though,” Korsy stated. Henderson threw up his hands. “Fine, prove it then.” “Okay.” Korsy put the bowl of stew on the table, a smug grin crossing his face. “Have you ever been sick?” Henderson shrugged. “No.” “Are your ears very sensitive to touch?” Korsy asked. “Aren’t they all?” “Do you have a hard time growing body hair?” Henderson smirked. “No.” Korsy waved a hand. “That's neither here nor there… You're part human anyway.” “I'm all human,” Henderson stated. “Do you resonate with any one or more elements of nature?” Korsy continued. “For example, animals, water, ores, gemstones, fire, wind, the moon, the sun, the stars, etc.” “Define resonate,” Theo piped in. “Is it like a glow or something?” “No, it's like… Well, for me, I have a good bond with magical animals,” Korsy said. “Anyway, it's hard to explain. It's a really strong pull towards those kinds of things. And them to you.” “I can't think of anything like that,” Henderson said. “What about people?” Theo asked. “Henderson's really good at attracting a crowd. People always want to hear his stories and hang out with him at work and stuff.” “That's called being an extrovert,” Henderson stated rolling his eyes. “I mean some magical creatures have a way with people, but mostly demons and sirens,” Korsy said. “Demons are real?!” Theo gasped. “Oh, yeah. But don't worry about them. You're not surprised about the sirens, though?” “He met a mermaid already,” Henderson said. “At that pregnancy group.” “No, he's my case worker,” Theo said. “Oh, right! Fay!” Korsy recalled. “Yeah, Fay's cool.” “We are way off topic,” Theo re-centred. “Right.” Korsy stood up and held his hands out, palms up. “All these questions don't really matter as much as the physical. Stand up, Mr Neil. Lift your arms.” “This is stupid,” Henderson said but Theo nudged him and he got up reluctantly. “Hurry up.” “I said lift your arms,” Korsy said. “Also, it's easier with your shirt off.” “You're lucky you're cute...” Henderson stripped down to his waist and put his arms up. “What, might I ask, are you looking for?” “Elf mark,” Korsy said. “Don't worry, There's only three possible ones below the belt and they're very unlikely considering already what we know about you, so I'll only look for those ones if I don't find any other one.” “Well, you won’t so I might as well undo my drawstrings…” Henderson stated. “Also, I have a lot of ‘marks'. Even if you think you found something, it's probably my condition.” “Elf marks are very specific. It’s not gonna look like a skin condition.” Korsy took out his phone to cross reference a photo he had from a book he wasn't allowed to read, let alone photograph. He checked under Henderson's armpits first. “Not an aquatic elf...” He turned out both of Henderson’s palms. “Not wood or wild.” “How many are there?” Theo asked. “Uh, several,” Korsy said. “About nine, I think?” He went behind Henderson and sighed. “Darn, not Avariel. That would've been unlikely, but so cool...” “What are Avariel?” Henderson asked. “Winged elves,” Theo said excitedly, pulling himself up off the couch so he could look too. “You do know your stuff,” Korsy said. “Anyway, they're long gone.” Korsy pushed forward Henderson's ears to check behind them. “Not Star or Lythari.” “What's left?” Theo asked. “Just Drow, Sun and Moon,” Korsy said. “I don't think he'd be drow, but we'll check anyway. Pants off.” “Are you serious?” Henderson huffed. “You can keep your panties on,” Korsy shrugged. “Just need a look at the inner thigh and then your butt.” “Let me guess, Moon is on the butt?” Henderson sighed. “…Listen, I don't make this stuff up. It's ancient,” Korsy said. “I can assure you, there's nothing there,” Henderson stated. “How often do you look at your butt?” Korsy asked. “Probably a lot,” Theo said. “He has a nice butt.” “I have a nice butt,” Henderson concurred. “Well, we can check the Sun first if you want,” Korsy said. “Not much hope for that one though, but we'll see.” “Where's that one?” Theo asked. “Sole of the foot,” Korsy said. “My feet are completely vitiligo at this point,” Henderson said. “Even if there was something there, it'd be gone.” “Humour me,” Korsy said. Henderson grimaced, but he sat down and put his foot up on the coffee table. “You better not have a foot fetish or something.” “I'm just taking a look, I'm not taking pictures,” Korsy said. “You didn't say ‘no'.” “I don't have a foot fetish,” Korsy stated. “Frankly, it's the last place I want to look. I'm a butt guy.” He went around the coffee table and picked up Henderson's foot before putting it down. “Hm. Other one.” Henderson switched feet, and then Korsy's eyes lit up. He picked up the other man's foot and wiped at it with his thumb, checking in case what he was seeing was dirt. “What?” Henderson groaned in annoyance. “Ha, you're walking on sunshine, baby!” Korsy said in delight. “You have to be kidding...” Henderson pulled his foot back so he could get up and try to look at his sole. Right on his heel, he saw the little circle of spots with little dots around the outside, mimicking solar flares. “What the hell...” Theo spread his arms. “Oh my god, you're a Sun Elf!” Henderson exhaled in frustration and put his foot down. “I...ugh, this is dumb...” “Sun elves are pretty incredible, I'm not gonna lie,” Korsy said. “I didn't suspect them, but it wasn't impossible. The whole extrovert thing makes sense though. They're very civil and good with magic.” “Are you happy now?” Henderson snapped. “You figured it out. Now what? Do you like me more knowing I'm an elf?” “Whoa, man. Chill,” Korsy said. “It's not like that at all. Just wanted to help you discover something new about yourself. Don't you want to know your background?” “No! I knew my background!” Henderson exclaimed. “I was proud to be what I was! What I knew! People have always tried to tell me that being who and what I am was bad, secondary, unimportant. They wanted me to be something else! But I made myself love me and my skin! I love my black heritage! I don't need to be anything else! Do you understand that?” “I'm not trying to take any of that away from you,” Korsy said. “But, I'm sorry, man, I... I don't know, I thought you'd want to know.” “I've said I didn't want to know,” Henderson reminded. “I don't need you to think for me.” “I'm sorry. I thought...” Korsy didn't know what else to say. “Did you, though? Did you really think?” Henderson asked. “I only let you do this because you're going through some shit right now and you needed a distraction. But this is too far.” Korsy crossed his arms. “Look, man. I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't appreciate you insulting me." “Oh, fuck off, honestly,” Henderson said. “I'm done with this.” “You agreed to do this.” “I didn't think you'd actually find anything!” Henderson spat. He went to the door and started pulling on his shoes. “What, you're just leaving?” Theo asked, waddling over. “I'm sorry, Theo. I just gotta go,” Henderson said. “No, this is my fault.” Theo apologised. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have encouraged him...” “It's fine, okay?” Henderson said opening the door. “I still... I need to breathe.” “Okay...” “I will call you.” “Okay.” Korsy went to follow Henderson. “Listen, let's just talk about this.” “No. Stay here,” Henderson said, stopping him with his hand. “You and Theo can geek out about elf shit and whatever. I gotta go.” “Alright, dude...” Korsy sighed. “I am sorry. Really.” Henderson backed out and just shut the door. “Shit...” Korsy groaned and went back to the couch. He covered his face. “Fucking hell... Am I just pushing away everyone today?” “It's okay... Henderson will calm down,” Theo said, coming back and sitting down. “I think it's just a lot for him to take in... And you didn't push your friend away. Everyone needs time.” Korsy took his hands away and his eyes were tearing up. “I just... I don't want people to be miserable. Not because of me.” “No one wants that, but honestly, they won't be,” Theo said. “I mean, I've been pretty fucking miserable lately, but I do think I’ll get through this... You'll get through this and so will they. And let me handle Henderson.” “Yeah... I'm really sorry I dropped in out of nowhere and dropped all this drama on you,” Korsy said. “I know you've got a lot going on.” “I've pretty much just accepted this stuff, so there's not actually much for me to do, except just keep sitting on my ass...” Theo said. “In a few weeks, I'm supposed to start growing again though. Not looking forward to that.” “Well, you've got good care and I think you're gonna get through it,” Korsy said. “I appreciate that.” Theo patted Korsy's knee. “And don't apologise for looking for help. What's worrying you most about this situation, though?” Korsy took a deep breath. “My friend... He says he doesn't want to be pregnant, and he bought a pill for it... But, I don’t know, I'm worried he'll change his mind? And I can't...I can't be a dad...” “Boy, do I feel that...” Theo said, rubbing his stomach. “But, I mean, I don't know your friend, but if you feel like he feels the same way, then I don't think you should worry about it.” “Yeah, I trust him,” Korsy said. “It's all I can do... And we're not a couple, and he has a pretty small apartment and he seems more work driven than anything, so I think we're okay, but it's just that little chance that's scaring me.” “Well, you said he might not be pregnant at all,” Theo said. “So, it's like there's three ways it could go, and the majority is in favour of no baby.” “Yeah, you're right...” Korsy closed his eyes for a moment. “You're right. Thanks.” “Listen, feel free to stay over if you want,” Theo said. “There's more food, and we could watch more Mando. To keep your head off of things.” “Yeah, if it's alright... If Henderson comes back though, he probably won't want to see me.” “Don't worry about Henderson. You know, we could play Mario Kart first.” “Yeah, so you can challenge my win streak?” “Last time was a fluke.” “Sure. You're on.”

[mystic-deep]

“Whipped Cream” - Part 2 | Nanami Kento fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Taking cooking classes seemed like a nice way to relax and sharpen your skills, too bad the teacher hates you.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: explicit content not suitable for minors, nothing graphic but please be advised, light swearing

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: Here's part 2! Things are starting to move in the right direction. Nothing too explicit though, part 3 will be the first real reason. Hope you enjoy and as always, please forgive any errors and mistakes.

♡ ♡ ♡ previous parts: Part 1

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 3.4k

The second the doors of the elevator opened you dashed out, your eyes glancing nervously at your hand watch. Your weekly meeting had lasted longer than expected and now you were running late for your cooking class. You couldn’t wait to add another reason for that jerk to pick on you.

As you hurried through the lobby, the receptionist that you met on Monday noticed you and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Good afternoon! Nanami-sensei forgot some documents so he went back to fetch them from his car, you should hurry up before he returns.”

“Thank you!” You grinned at her and quickened your pace towards your classroom. It was good to know that not every staff member here was a devil in disguise.

You practically barged inside the room and for a second everyone looked at you with hopeful eyes, only to shift into disappointment when they realized it wasn’t Nanami. Or was it perhaps the fact that they all hoped you’d quit and they wouldn’t be forced to deal with you anymore.

Ignore them, this time around you wouldn’t lose your temper and become another subject for them to gossip about when the class was over.

With that thought in mind, and hopeless positivity, you scanned the room and realized that your previous working space had been occupied already. The only free space was at the very front row, near Nanami’s desk. Strange, you were sure that was probably the most sought out station, seeing how close you’d be to the chef.

You pushed your worries to the side and took out your apron from the bag before putting it on. Only a few seconds later the door opened again and Nanami stepped inside.

“Good afternoon and sorry for being late.” He offered a small apologetic smile and deep inside you thought that he was actually really pleasant to look at when he wasn’t criticizing your existence.

The smile vanished quickly when his eyes landed on you and you kicked yourself for finding him attractive just a few second earlier.

“Miss Y/n, as you probably noticed, I’ve moved your seat in front of my desk. After the events from last time, I need to supervise you attentively.”

You fought back the urge to argue, knowing full well that this is what he was looking for. Obviously today was a test of patience, to see how much he could push your buttons until you’d explode.

“Oh I don’t mind, Nanami-san.”

“I would like you to address me as Nanami-sensei or chef Nanami during classes.”

“Of course, Nanami-san.”

He shot you and angry look but you beamed at him innocently. You had told your friend that it would me a miracle if he didn’t kill by the end of the week but now your execution seemed right around the corner.

“Let’s start today’s lesson.” Everyone took out their phones and placed them on their working station.

“Today we’ll be making Paris Brest, it’s a very popular French desert. I’ve sent you the list of ingredients and instructions on the group chat, make sure you read them carefully and if there’s something you don’t understand you have 20 minutes to ask your questions. After that we’ll get started.”

Everyone gave a short nod in reply, well everyone except you. Your hand rose up causing Nanami to arch his brow in annoyance. “Yes, what is it.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not part of the group chat so I don’t have the list of ingredients or instructions.”

“That is, unfortunately for you, not my fault. Yamamoto-san is the admin, it was her idea to stop the waste of paper that we usually printed on in favour of sending everything via chat. You’ll have to talk to her.”

He made a short hand gesture towards one of the older women and you realized with distress that it was the old hag that questioned you during the previous lesson. She didn’t even bother to look up from her phone, like you didn’t even exist.

Fine, no point in begging to be added to some group you didn’t even want to be part of. You were sure you could find some recipes on youtube or something.

As the 20 minutes passed and Nanami began to take questions, your hand went up again but this time he ignored you. You frowned and went back to study the recipe you found. You were going to make this work, you were going to nail this desert and bask in the glory of your achievement.

About an hour and a half later all deserts had been finished and they were now presented to the chef for inspection. Nanami had moved from station to station giving advices to everyone and correcting mistakes here and there. He of course never spared you a glance and you had to admit it was starting to hurt. You didn’t know you craved so much for his approval or was it maybe the fact that it pissed you off to be pushed aside in such a way. At the end of the day you were paying for this course, it seemed unfair to be treated in such a manner.

“Right, let’s see what we have here.” He studied your Paris Brest, probably looking for any mistakes that he could judge. “A bit underdone, the bottom is somewhat soggy.” You bit your tongue and looked at him as he cut a small piece from the desert but didn’t taste it like he did with the rest. “I’ve asked for crème praline but instead you filled it with crème patissiere. Are you perhaps unable to follow instructions?”

“I didn’t have the list of ingredients and I didn’t have your instructions so I had to search for the recipe myself.”

“And I told you to ask Yamamoto-san to add you-”

“No, you said to talk to her as though this wasn’t your responsibility at all! Meanwhile you didn’t bother once to stop by my station and correct me even though you saw I was making custard crème.” Your cheeks turned red from frustration and you clutched your hands in small fists.

“If you don’t plan on teaching me anything then at least have the decency to say so! If I wanted to learn recipes from youtube I would have stayed in the comfort of my home without having to pay a dime for this joke of a class.” So much for keeping a cool head and not letting him get to you.

Nanami was a tall man, you noticed the second he first set foot in the classroom and back in the parking lot when you dropped your key. Yet you didn’t realize just how tall he was, at least compared you, until he was looming over you. His blue eyes had turned icy and his lips had tightened in a small, sharp line, a sign that he was barely keeping his anger in check.

“You will stay after class.” Despite not raising his voice even an octave, he said it in such a strong manner, like a divine command. When your mouth opened he sent you the most chilling glare. “You.will.stay.” With that he returned to his desk and you were left to boil in your frustration.

Class ended in what seemed to be mere seconds and everyone hurried out after saying their good byes, probably not wanting to delay you imminent death.

“Now, let’s talk in my office.” He gestured towards a door just a few feet away from his desk and you followed him as he opened it and stepped inside.

His office was quite impressive and you wondered just how much this school was making for him to afford such luxury. The room had large windows with a nice view of the office buildings in the distance, a solid wooden desk with a black leather chair as well as a couch with a modern looking coffee table. On the walls you could see several certificates and degrees that were framed, probably from all the cooking classes he had taken.

“Please take a seat.” He sat in the leather chair and you sat in from of him, legs crossed and eyes narrowed. Whatever the hell he wanted to discuss it had better be quick, you just wanted to go home and take a hot bath and forget about this miserable day.

“It seems that you are not adjusting well to this course so I will speak to management in order to return your money. No point to continue this if you don’t want to be here.”

“Oh no, you will not make this look like it’s my fault.” You sat up so quickly you thought you sat down on a spring. “You have treated me horrible since the very beginning and now you’re angry that I don’t sit quietly and take your abuse.”

“If you think that not praising you for the disastrous bake you did on Monday, a bake that I might add you half assed the whole time and then proceeded to blame everything except yourself, was too harsh for your sensitive self then it just further proves how unsuited you are for my class.” He sat up as well, his expression mirroring your own. “The class is a joke, the students are a joke, I am a joke. It’s all a big joke to you, the successful business woman who has no time to waste on such a silly course.”

You felt waves of anger washing over you but deep down inside what you felt more was sadness. Sure he was part right about what he said, you did look down on your classmates and you did insult him back then in the parking lot. Still, it wasn’t that you thought so highly of yourself, it was the opposite actually. Your self-doubt sky rocketed when he pointed all the flaws of your cookies and you couldn’t stand the way those women had chuckled gleefully in the background. Of course, you’d rather eat your fist than to admit to all of that.

“I don’t think this class is a joke and I have nothing against my classmates, it’s just that some of them don’t want me here. As for yourself, you’ve treating me differently than the rest of the class so the problem here is you not me.” You crossed your arms and looked at him in a defiant way. “Rather than returning my money, I want to be moved to a different course where someone else will properly teach me.”

He couldn’t have looked more shocked or upset if you had punched him in the face. This must had been for him the ultimate insult, for you to suggest that his teaching was bad and that someone else could do a better job. Truthfully, you weren’t questioning his skill as a teacher, just that you two obviously couldn’t get along. You weren’t sure that the point came across though.

“You insolent little-” He stopped himself and took a deep breath, clearly fighting the urge to strangle you. “You are absolutely impossible to deal with.”

“No, it’s you who just doesn’t know how to deal with me and I have had enough. There is nothing you can teach me.” With that you grabbed your bag in which you had previously stuffed your apron and hurried towards the door. As your hand reached for the knob, you felt his presence behind you and his left hand slammed against the door while his right quickly turned the key to lock it.

You turned to glare at him but as your eyes met his, your words got stuck in your throat. He looked at you with such intensity that it made your body temperature rise.

“I could teach you a lot of things if only you’d learn to keep that little mouth of yours shut.” The way he said things made you think he wasn’t necessarily referring to cooking.

His right hand suddenly reached for the back of your head and he pushed you forward, taking your lips in a hungry kiss. At first you didn’t move, you were too shocked to fully process what was happening. As his tongue slowly began to push against your lips you parted them and gave him full access to your mouth. Your hands reached for his broad shoulders and you instinctively stood on your toes in order to kiss him back.

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a life time when you finally parted. The anger from his eyes had been replaced with what seemed like hunger and he licked his lips making your knees to tremble.

“You could actually pass as cute when you’re not trying to push all my buttons.”

His words were like a wakeup call and your eyes widened at what had just transpired inside his office. He kissed you, but more importantly, you kissed him back! Not only that but you did it with such desire that no amount of denial would get you out of this one.

“Why-Why did you-”

“Because I wanted to.” Just like that, because he wanted to. He trapped you in his office and kissed you just because he wanted to.

He grabbed your wrist, quite gently to your surprise, and began to pull you away from the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you silly on the desk, what else.” Your eyes practically popped out of their sockets and you froze in place.

“I’m joking, obviously.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Your fist aimed for his shoulder but he dodged the punch without a problem. He then sat down on the couch and pulled your body so that you would seat next to him.

“Now then, let’s discuss a few rules if this is to continue.” What exactly was he talking about? What did he think was going to continue?

“Whatever happens in this room stays in this room. Once we’re out the door we’re back to teacher-student relationship and nothing more. You’ll give me your phone number so I can send you further recipes and set up meetings but we’ll never discuss anything that goes on here via messages or calls.”

“And what’s going to happen here?” You asked feelings a mixture or excitement and curiosity wash over you.

“That depends a lot on you.” He gave a little shrug as his hand landed on your thigh and began to smoothly move upward. “Depends on how obedient you are, show me that you want to learn.” You almost found it impossible to breath as his hand began to massage your flesh through the fabric of your pants. Why, why in the world didn’t you wear a skirt today?

“First, I think it’s fair to ask if I should be worried about you seeing someone. I don’t want to ruin a relationship or marriage.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.” After your promotion from last year it had been nearly impossible with your work schedule to form any kind of meaningful relationship and truth be told it was starting to show. God knows how much time had passed since you shared such a deep kiss and you wanted more of that. Even though there was a part of you that worried about what you were getting yourself into, you absolutely needed to feel that light headed again. Also, you knew that what he had offered was just a taste, just a fraction of what he could do to you.

“What about you? Is this something that you do often?” His hand on your thigh tightened and you let out a little whimper.

“I know you have the tendency to always believe the worse of me, but no, I’ve never done this with anyone. All the more reasons to set up clear rules. Obviously I’m also not in a relationship.”

You didn’t question him- he indeed didn’t seem the type to just sleep around with his students. If anything those women from your class would give and arm and a leg just to be here, in his office, sitting on the couch with his hand on their thigh. Yet for some reason, he chose you. The annoying, opinionated one that always rubbed him the wrong. Or maybe, you were actually rubbing the right way.

“I came to the conclusion that the only way for you to behave during my class is if we can take care of some of that pent up frustration you have.” You cheeks coloured red and you hated to admit it but he was right.

“What about you?” Your fingers began to travel provocatively to the growing bulge in his pants but he grabbed you by the wrist before you had the chance to reach your destination. You whined a little but he just chuckled and kissed the inside of your palm.

“Obviously, I’m not immune or I wouldn’t be here, offering to give you extra lessons.” He let go of your hand, his expression turning seriously.

“Before we continue, I need you to agree that you will behave accordingly.” You nodded in agreement, a bit too quick for your liking.

“I want to make it clear that we’ll not be dating. The second your course ends, so will this arrangement. We won’t meet anywhere else except here and once that door is locked you will be obedient. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with, but I want you to be opened to try new things, do you think you can do that?”

You nodded again finding it almost impossible so seat still. You were both nervous and excited for this little arrangement and you couldn’t wait to get started.

“Good, one last thing that we need to set straight.” He grabbed your waist and manoeuvred your body until you were sitting in his lap, his hand gripping your chin so he could look straight in your eyes.

“Inside this room you’ll address me as sensei or sir, none of that Nanami-san bullshit you pulled earlier. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes...sir.”

“Good girl.” He offered you a low chuckle and a light smack on your ass. You were absolutely desperate for more of his touch and seeing the need in your eyes, he pulled you in for another deep kiss.

As his tongue explored your mouth, your hips moved against his and his hands gripped your waist in order to stop the friction. He pulled away and looked at you in a threatening way.

“Don’t be greedy, your lessons haven’t started yet.” You wanted to protest but you were also afraid that he would end this before it even had the chance to start.

His slowly unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt and let his mouth fall on the swelling of your breast. He licked the flesh and nibbled, making your head fall back in pleasure.

“N-Nanami-sensei.” You mewled his name and he smiled against your breast. After a few more seconds he pulled away, admiring his work. The first mark he had left on your body and the promise of many more.

“Up you go.” He gave you another light smack on your bottom and with trembling legs you moved away from his lap.

“The next meeting will be and Saturday, to make up for the time you wasted today.” You frowned slightly, wondering how you’ll be able to resists until the weekend.

“Don’t make that face, I promise to give you and extra reward if you do well during Friday’s lesson.”

Your expression turned into an excited one and he laughed whole heartedly. “You’re so easy to read.”

With that, your little discussion had come to an end. He unlocked the door of his office and you stepped outside, practically waltzing through the classroom, down the hallway and through the lobby. The nice receptionist asked you something but you couldn’t register anything that she was saying so you just smiled like an idiot and waved her goodbye.

As the elevator door closed, a part of you began to worry about what you were getting yourself into. You weren’t a reckless person and you knew what scandal this could cause if you were caught. Still, it was even more dangerous for Nanami who could risk getting fired, so you had to trust that he knew what he was doing. All worries aside, on Saturday you were going to wear a damn skirt.

[pizzaboat]

I kinda wrote a mom eda fic, cause I wanted to try writing. This is like the first fic I've ever writen so keep in mind it's not gonna be perfect.. but I'm happy how it turned out.. so here!

Some honesty before breakfast

To say Eda had noticed something off with her apprentice, would be an understatement. 

Luz's cheery attitude had all but disappeared for the past two days, and instead had been replaced with a quite sadness that followed the girl wherever she went in the house. Her smiles seemed forced, never quite reaching her eye's, lacking the warmth and joy they usually had.

Eda knew she should have seen this coming, the slow change in luz's demeanour. The portal had been destroyed a month ago, but she'd been too caught up in mourning the loss of her magic, processing the cluster fuck that had been the last few months and adjusting to her older sister taking up residency in her shed, she hadn't noticed.

She should have acted sooner.

Because Eda now watched Luz half heartedly engage in her and King's infamous and dreaded "comedy hour" with all the enthusiasm of Lilith on hooty's cleaning day. 

"Luz, you're not paying attention!" King whined, "my food puns are genius, and not even a smirk!

"Come on, this is some of my best material!" The tiny demon added, dropping what was left of his toast onto his plate.

"Sorry king, I was paying attention" Luz assured pushing her untouched breakfast away "I was just thinking as well, that's all.."

"Sounds like not paying attention to me" He grumbled.

Sounds like a terrible cover up.

Eda finished the last of her Appleblood, pushed away from the counter she was leaning on and picked King up earning a "nyee" from him as she placed him on the floor.

"why don't you go play with your army of dolls or something?" Eda told him.

"They're my army of darkness!" He corrected "and its not playing, it's scheming. machinating if you will"

"Whatever, go do that. I need to talk to Luz" She sighed.

Luz shifted in her seat, and went to leave.

"Actually,  I have a ton of homework so-"

"Nope" Eda cut the girl off "you stay, king go" she ordered 

King muttered something about world domination as he scurried off, and Luz and Eda were left alone of the kitchen.

"So.. is this about potions delivery's?" Luz asked "because I know I haven't been doing the deliveries alot lately and-"

"Kid, what?-no, that isn't what this is about"

Luz fidgeted with the string of her hoody "then, what is this about?" 

"You tell me, you've been acting weird lately- well weirder than usual" Eda said, taking Kings seat at the table and pushing his leftovers aside.

"Its not that big a deal, really" Luz said, but the waver in her voice betrayed her.

Titan help her.

Eda sighed and rubbed her eyes "Look, I'm not an idiot kid, I know somethings up, and I know the past month has been rough. For everyone"

And here comes the emotional mush..

"I know it can't be easy" Eda continued, trying to choose her next words carefully.

"Living under the same roof as Lilith after what's happened, or adjusting to all this crap,  the portal door being destroyed.."

Titan she had no clue what she was doing. How do you comfort people?

"But I want you to know that whatever the problem is, I'm here to help. it matters if it upsets you" Eda told her "and I'll be hexed if I'll let my kid suffer in silence"

"So what's bothering you?"

They sat there for a moment. Eda wasn't sure if her lackluster attempt at reassurance had helped the girl, she searched Luz's face for any signs of what she might be thinking.

Finally, Luz let out in a shakey breath "I miss my mom"

Ah, shit. Of course, the poor kid missed her mother. She really should have guessed that.

"I destroyed the door, to stop belos and- and to save you" Luz's voice cracked " but I miss her.. y'know? .. when things would go wrong back home, she was always there, she knew what to do..." Tears started well in her eyes and spill out onto her cheeks.

Luz sucked in a breath of air " I don't know what to do..the doors gone, and it's my fault and she's probably really worried about me, and its MY fault.

"Im scared I'll never see her again. Eda, I miss my home. I miss my mom"

Of course. None of this was Luz's fault though. Not really. It was Eda's. She was the adult and should have sent her home that first day. But she was selfish and now Luz was paying the price.

"I don't regret saving you though" She continued,  and Eda blinked in surprise.

"Leaving you guys behind was never an option. being here with you and King.. its kinda like home here too" Another shakey breath.

"I know I shouldn't complain 'cause I did this to my self but-" Luz's voice cut off and gave way to sobbing.

Eda didn't know how it happened but she found herself at the other side of the table, wrapping Luz up in one of those "parallel arm" things.

She scooped the girl up easily and sat her on her lap, holding her close as Luz continued to cry. This poor kid, who'd brought so much light into Eda's life, Changed it for the better, magic be damned, was suffering and there was no way in hell Eda was going to stand back and watch her blame herself.

Luz had given up everything. 

In one of the few times where Eda felt compeled to do the right thing, Eda vowed to herself she'd make this right.

"Luz" The witch said with a softness that surprised herself "None of this is your fault, it's OK to be upset"

"it's my fault not yours, I want- no. need you to know that. I'm gonna fix this. I'll find a way to get you back home, and you'll be able to see your mom again" she said, stroking her hair.

"I promise"

Luz looked up from where she had her head buried in Eda's sweater, her eyes were red rimmed and puffey. Luz rubbed at her eyes, and sniffed.

"You promise?" Luz asked, voice horse.

Eda nodded, brushing some of luz's hair back, fixing it.

"I promise, and that's a promise from the most powerful witch on the boiling Isles, kiddo. it's a big deal, infact you should feel kinda honoured"

Luz laughed. And there it was. That smile that had been missing for so long. Eda wasn't going to let anything happen to it again.

"I kind of ruined your sweater" Luz said apologetically as she pulled away.

Eda looked down at her sweater. yep. Human snot. Gross as all hell.

"Don't worry about it, I didn't like the sweater anyway"

Yes she did.

Luz jumped off of Eda's lap "how do you feel now?" Eda asked

"better" Luz smiled, rubbing her eyes still.

"Good, I can't have my apprentice's in emotional distress" eda smirked "it'd be bad for business"

"I'm your only apprentice" Luz shot back grinning.

"details" Eda waved her hand dismissively.

Eda looked at her now. She wasn't crying anymore, which was good. Eda could still see residual tears, but Luz was smiling, no matter how small it was, she was actually smiling again, and that was what mattered.

A loud definitive gurgle sounded through out the room.

"I never ate breakfast" Luz whispered sheepishly.

Luz turned back to her breakfast cereal to see it had long since turned to disgusting mush in the bowl.

"i'll eat something else.." She decided heading towards the cupboards.

Eda had an idea.

"We could make something"

Luz perked up.

"Really?!" 

"I mean, yeah why not?" Eda shrugged " I haven't eaten yet and-"

"Can we make pancakes?!" The girl asked with barely contained excitement "I can dress King up in a little chefs outfit, and we could have pancakes!"

"Um.."

"I have so much prep work to do!" Luz exclaimed as she dashed out the door.

"Kid!" Eda called

"Yeah?" Luz popped her head back in the door.

"Don't forget that if your ever worried about anything at all, you can talk to me. I meant what I said, I'm here to help"

"I know, thanks Eda. I love you" and she was gone.

Eda blinked.

"I love you too, Luz"

[taetaespeaches]

“Why do we always burn the French toast?”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.7K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This is just a little random scene from Tae and Peaches’ relationship, featuring Tannie. Tae gets home late and Peaches propositions him for some late night French toast. Based on an ask I got a while ago about Tae and Peaches dancing to ‘Sunflower Vol. 6′ by Harry Styles. Ok, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :)) 

DESPITE his quiet entrance, the little dog who was curled up next to your side gave your boyfriend away as he walked into the bedroom at half past midnight. You were awoken to the sound of Yeontan barking and whimpering in excitement, Taehyung gently shushing the dog as to try not to disturb your sleep.

When you opened your eyes, you saw your handsome man bent down so he was eye level with you as he patted the small ball of fluff. At the sound of the groan that left your mouth, Taehyung shot you a wide-eyed apologetic look.

“Go back to sleep, Peaches,” he whispered to you, stepping closer in his crouched down position so he could reach you, running a hand through your hair, leaning toward you to press a kiss to your forehead.

“What time is it?” You asked him groggily, your boyfriend shushing you. You glanced to the alarm clock to see the 12:34 displayed. Pouting, you looked back to Tae, reaching a hand out lazily to haphazardly soothe over the man’s cheek. Nearly poking his eye, he flinched before giggling. “Did you eat?” You asked him, Taehyung avoiding the question as he dropped his head to the mattress, Yeontan happily pounced on his dad’s head, trying to play with the man who had been gone at the studio all day. “Tae.”

“I’ll eat in the morning,” he dismissed your concern, you glaring at him sleepily, Taehyung chuckling. “Don’t worry,” he told you cautiously, knowing the comment would probably trigger a lecture. Stealing a kiss from your lips before you could give a sassy response, he stood up quickly, preparing to head out of the room. “I just need a shower.”

“Tae,” you whined after him, only for him to leave the room, shooting you a cheeky smile on his way out. Looking down at the pup next to you, you found him already looking up at you. “I know, little dude, he’s a brat.”

Involuntarily, you drifted back to sleep, waking yourself up every few minutes in anticipation of Tae’s arrival back in the room. When you heard his faint steps traveling the hallway after about fifteen minutes, you willed yourself to sit up, earning an annoyed side glance from the tired dog.

Your boyfriend entered as you were stretching your arms over your head, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist as he shook out his wet hair with his hands. Raising his eyebrows at you, he flashed an expression of surprise. “Why are you still awake?” He asked.

“Waiting up for you, sexy,” you flirted, Taehyung’s lips quirking into a smile as he looked to the floor bashfully.

As quickly as the embarrassment showed in his face, he recovered, turning so his back was to you, whipping the towel off to expose his bare ass to you. “Waiting up for this?” He teased, you giggling as you reached to cover Yeontan’s eyes as you let out an oof. Taehyung saw the action in the vanity mirror’s reflection, causing him to smile widely.

“That is exactly what I was waiting for,” you smiled, Taehyung chuckling as he opened the drawer to pull out some underwear. You watched as he pulled the briefs over his long legs, admiring their length and shape. The dude was stunning from head to toe, it was hard to comprehend how someone actually looked like that.

“Well bad girls who don’t go to sleep when they should don’t get any of this,” he wiggled his now clothed butt at you, you smiling, thoroughly entertained by the man. Next, he put on a pair of lounge shorts and finally a t-shirt, turning around to see you staring at him.

Fixing your expression into a pout, when he turned to look at you, now fully dressed, you huffed, crossing your arms over your front. “What?” he asked with a low chuckle.

You both stared at each other for a moment before you smirked. “Do you want some French toast?”

“Huh?” He asked, his eyebrows raising. “Now?” You nodded, the man taking a moment before his lips curved into a stunning smile. Taehyung was typically the one to suggest random late-night activities, so you couldn’t really blame him for his surprise.

You were scrambling out of the bed in an instant, leaving your boyfriend standing in the middle of the bedroom in confusion, the dog looking disrupted but not particularly bothered as he watched you head toward the exit. “Race you to the kitchen,” you called out, Taehyung jumping into action as he chased after you, making you squeal as you bolted out the door, Yeontan following behind eagerly. Halfway down the hallway, two arms wrapped around your waist from behind, you giggling as you lightly hit his arms in protest, Tannie jumping at your legs.

Nuzzling his face against the side of your neck, he placed a series of kisses to your skin, you giggling as you both waddled to the kitchen. Just before stepping into the room, he spun your bodies 180 degrees, releasing you from his hold, jumping onto the tiled floor. “Beat you,” he told you with a smirk, nodding his head cutely, you shooting him a glare.

“You’re a cheater,” you informed him though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Tannie,” you looked down at the dog, Yeontan looking up at you. “Don’t be like your dad. He’s a bad role model.”

Your boyfriend smiled as he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen until music filled the kitchen. The song was ‘You Make Me Feel Like Dancing’ by Leo Sayer, the soft ah’s starting the song off against a groovy bass line.

“Tannie, don’t listen to your mom, she’s worse than me,” your boyfriend told the dog, you rolling your eyes playfully as you went to the fridge to get the eggs and milk.

“Whatever, cheater, can you get the vanilla please?” You asked, your arms full of the ingredients as you closed the refrigerator door with your elbow.

“You know,” Tae started as he reached inside the cabinet for the vanilla extract. “I liked it more when you were calling me sexy.”

“Oh, the cinnamon too,” you added, Tae playfully glaring at your disregard for his comment. “Sexy,” you tagged on, making your boyfriend chuckle.

Bringing the vanilla and cinnamon to you, he whispered next to your ear, “that’s better,” sending a chill down your spine at the low tone.

“Stop it, I’m trying to feed you,” you warned, Taehyung kissing your cheek before his lips spread into a grin. “No innuendos,” you interjected before the man could even start his joke about eating something else.

Your boyfriend chuckled, kissing your cheek once more before resting his chin on your shoulder, his still wet hair chilling the side of your neck at its touch. “How can I help you?”

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at the ingredients sprawled out in front of you. “Do you want to make the egg mixture?” He nodded against your shoulder before stepping away and grabbing a bowl and a whisk.

“This is an important step, isn’t it?” He asked, you humming in confirmation. “Pressure’s on,” he joked, you giggling just as Taehyung grabbed an egg. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he cracked it against the bowl, giving an approving “hm” at the way it cracked. Opening the egg and allowing it to slip from the shell into the bowl, his head craned toward the homeware, a sigh immediately leaving his lips.

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face as he looked disappointedly at the egg. “Shell,” he spoke quietly to himself, you giggling at how utterly endearing he was. Tae’s eyes darted to meet yours, a bashful grin taking over his face as you reached out to poke his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you cooed, Taehyung groaning at your affection. “Here,” you handed him a spoon, your boyfriend taking it to start fishing the shell out.

“You should crack the rest,” he giggled as he struggled to capture the unwanted piece of shell.

“Nah uh, you got it,” you told him, turning to the bag of bread, pulling out a few pieces.

“Ah!” Taehyung exclaimed, you looking over at him to see him smiling proudly at the spoon. “Finally,” he quirked an eyebrow.

“What a guy,” you commented, Taehyung smiling at you. As he cracked the next egg, he began swaying his hips to the song, you joining him as you watched him carefully break the eggs.

After successfully completing the task without any more shell mishaps he smiled happily at you. He began singing along to the song, though he didn’t know the lyrics so he instead just mumbled in a high-pitched falsetto to the melody, you laughing loudly at his silliness.

“Ok vocal king, add the milk,” you giggled, Taehyung following your directions without missing a beat in his singing. “Ok, that’s good,” you told him, the man instantly stopping pouring. “Now the vanilla, just a little,” you told him, watching as he dropped just a little dollop in. “Perfect,” you nodded, “now the cinnamon.” He added a couple dashes, looking at you for approval. “I mean, top chef status, really,” you complimented, Taehyung giggling as he leaned toward you, catching your lips in a chaste kiss.

Pouting for a second when he pulled away, you turned to the frying pan that was heating, dropping a slab of butter into it. As it melted, ‘Sunflower Vol. 6’ by Harry Styles started playing from Taehyung’s phone.

Placing the bowl next to you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as he watched you dip the first slice of bread into the mixture. As soon as you placed the bread into the sizzling frying pan, he was swaying you in his hold, humming lightly against your neck.

Turning in his arms, you draped your own over his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck as you looked at him fondly, toying with the damp strands hanging off his nape. The only illumination in the kitchen was from the light over the sink, Taehyung’s handsome features just barely visible underneath the glow.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” You pointed out randomly, Taehyung smiling widely at the compliment.

“Is that so?” He teased, moving his hand to your forearm, pulling your hand from his neck to clasp his overtop of it, holding it out in a waltz position. Your other hand slid to rest on his shoulder as his other one settled on your lower back.

“It is so,” you giggled as Tae began leading you around the kitchen.

Pointing his chin up slightly, he hummed in thought. “You’re prettier,” he commented, you smiling at you looked over your shoulder at the pan.

“We’re gonna burn the toast,” you noted, Taehyung’s eyes widening as if he just realized you were cooking. He ushered you backward toward the stove, pulling you close to him as he grabbed the spatula, flipping the toast.

“Ah, perfect,” he nodded, you giggling.

“Really? Are you just saying that?” You asked, trying to peer behind you to no avail as Taehyung placed his free hand to the back of your head, holding you to his chest.

“It looks great, just trust me,” he let out a low chuckle. “We’ll make more,” he added, you laughing at the obviously burnt piece of food. Suddenly, he turned you quickly, stretching his arm out and spinning you under it, you letting out a surprised squeal. The ruckus got Yeontan up from his spot on the floor, jumping at yours and Tae’s legs again, you both giggling at the little pup as he sat and looked up at you curiously.

“This song makes me think of you,” he told you, your eyes widening in response. “I’ve got your face hung up high in the gallery,” he sang along, you smiling fondly as you crinkled your nose. “I love this shade, sunflower, sunflower.” As the guitar did a little riff in the middle of the verse, Taehyung did a shoulder shimmy, you playfully gasping at the move, your boyfriend giggling. “Your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody, let me inside, I wanna get to know you,” he sang again.

“That part in particular,” he grinned. “Ever since I first met you, I wanted to know you, but you wouldn’t let me in for so long,” he chuckled, you smiling bashfully. “You made me work my ass off before you let me see you,” he noted fondly.

“Was it worth it?” You asked, Taehyung nodding immediately.

“Absolutely,” he smiled widely. “Best reward I could have ever asked for.” You scrunched your nose at him, Taehyung swiping his tongue over his lips as he observed you thoughtfully.  

As the chorus played, I couldn’t want you any more, kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor… Taehyung brought his lips to yours, your hands settling on his face as he pulled you close by your waist. Resting your foreheads against each other’s, you both listened as Harry sang, I couldn’t want you any more, kids in the kitchen listen to dancehall, I couldn’t want you any more tonight.

And in that moment, you could see it. Sunday morning, kids running around, bouncing on the couch as they watched cartoons, you and Tae watching over them as you prepared breakfast. They would have Tae’s boxy smile as they laughed unabashedly. Maybe you’d still be dancing like this, only one kid would be standing on Tae’s bare feet as he led them in a waltz, another kid on your own feet. You’d dip the kids, squeals leaving them followed by contagious giggles resembling Tae’s youthful laugh.

Without saying a word to Taehyung, you could tell he was thinking similar thoughts by the way his smile beamed, his whole face blooming, looking more radiant than ever.

“You know what’s a weird feeling?” He suddenly asked, you humming in question. “The contradiction of wanting to stay in this moment forever and having no time elapse, but also wanting to hurry up and see our future and experience how it all unfolds.”

Your boyfriend wore the fondest of smiles as he spoke and you just wanted to protect this moment. “I know exactly how you feel,” you agreed, leaning toward him and kissing the side of his mouth. Taehyung let out that childlike giggling, you unable to hold back your own chuckle as he plastered the side of your face in kisses.

“You know,” you spoke through the laughter, “I hate to ruin this really sweet moment, but that toast is definitely burning right now. More giggles slipped through your lips at Taehyung mouthing shit as he turned around quickly.

“Why do we always burn the French toast?” He asked, you laughing in amusement.

“We get distracted too easily,” you giggled.

“Ok, this next piece is going to be great,” he told you as you nodded, the song ending as ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’ by Queen started to play.

“I trust you,” you told him as you watched him dip the next piece of bread in the egg mixture, placing it in the pan.

Looking down at the dog lying next to your feet, you cocked your head. “Do you want to dance, Tannie?” You asked him as he started to wiggle in excitement. You sat down on the floor just as your boyfriend turned to look at you. He observed as you scooped the dog onto your lap, singing to the pup as Tannie wiggled, you both dancing together.

Watching you play with the dog, your gentle and kind nature shining through as you giggled and cooed, Taehyung knew that as excited as he was for his future with you, he didn’t want a single second to go by too fast. He wanted to savor every moment with you. And he didn’t want to miss anything.

Leaving the stove momentarily, he bent down to squeeze the dog’s face, leaving a kiss to the top of his head, you smiling at the sight. He then pressed his lips to your temple, lingering there for a moment before he pulled them away.

“I love you, Peaches,” he whispered, hovering over you from behind.

Leaning your head back to look up at him, upside down, you grinned happily. “I love you, Dearest.”

Neither of you wanted to miss a single moment. The future could wait. He was here now, and so were you, and that was all that either of you ever wanted.  Since the moment you met the man, that was all you wanted.

[sardinesandhumbugs]

“Congratulations, you have invented a new kind of stupid.”

I think you know which two characters this is for.

A/N: I know you intended this to be Ratty & Toad, but since you didn't specify (and because someone else has actually submitted the exact same prompt & characters) I'm going to play ignorant and apply this to Mole & Ratty instead. :D Also this is set after @a-place-to-come-back-to's recent ficlet, which I've very kindly been given permission to follow up because I needed to return fire the angst.

x

Rat didn't remember much of being sick.

He supposed that was a blessing of sorts.

(In the weeks that followed, fleeting déjà vu would unsettle him – in a turn of phrase, in the looks that haunted him – but right now he was simply tired and aching and borne down with the effort of waking.)

Mole entered, and Rat blearily recalled the parting words Badger had thrown his way earlier. "I've been told," he said, aiming for humour but sounding hoarse instead, "that you might have some choice words for me."

Mole sank into the chair beside the bed, and his failure to rise to the teasing tone unnerved Rat more than he cared to admit. There was a presence in the corridor beyond the room also, that of Badger and... Toad? Their shadows caught the edge of the threshold, uncharacteristically still in the latter's case. There was a heavy silence thickening the air, the kind found on hallowed ground, or libraries.

Or funerals.

Rat decided he didn't like the last comparison.

"Mole–"

"How do you feel?"

Hadn't he already answered that for Badger only a few minutes...? Or was it an hour? Hazily, Rat realised he'd dozed in Badger's leaving and Mole's arrival, and time had slipped from him. He couldn't be sure the reddened sky was dawn or dusk, or indeed if it was even the same sunrise/set that he'd previously woken to.

Better to be dusk, he thought. Wasn't that the phrase? Red sky at night, sailor's delight? Red sky at morning, sailor's... something. Mourning? No.

"Ratty?"

Mole's prompting brought Rat back to the present, and he refocused on the question. "I feel as fit as a fiddle," Rat croaked. It wasn't in the least bit convincing, but anything to curb that grieving fear that his home had seen far too much of. "Give me another hour, and I'll be doing cartwheels."

There was a harrumph from the doorway, followed by a gruff, "Least he's feeling well enough to joke about it," that Rat suspected he wasn't meant to catch. Regardless, the crotchety tone reassured Rat. It was far more familiar than the desperate relief he'd encountered upon his first waking.

Beside him, Mole gave a snuffling, tired laugh. "You've never done cartwheels in your life."

"I've just never had need to."

"You'd trip over your tail."

"Name one time–"

"On the open road," Mole answered instantly, just a smidgen too smugly for Rat's liking. "Several times. You got rather drunk that first day in the caravan."

"Oh." Rat attempted to remember it, but between the vagueness of his post-illness mind, and the inebriated haziness of the original memory, he had no hope. "Well," he grumbled, "that was the drinks' doing, not mine."

"Sure, Ratty."

They lapsed back into silence, and Rat could feel the mood shifting as Mole prepared to broach whatever subject Badger had alluded to with his 'choice words' remark.

In the emptiness, Rat's mind eddied. It swung between the cacophony outside – the birds sang, was it in their rising or their dawn chorus? – onto if it were the latter, how sparingly had his friends slept? There was certainly the fatigue of sleepless nights about in both Mole and Badger – before the train of thought slipped away entirely in a fit of exhaustion and he was momentarily only aware of how his whole form ached.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad it'd gotten?" Mole eventually demanded.

"Why didn't you say how bad it was?" Ratty demands. The room is warm, too warm, and still the older animal shivers. The creeping sickness is stealing his father away in inches, but only now does Ratty see how the finishing line for this fatalistic race is a matter of feet, not miles.

His father answers in that rattling breathlessness that has become so cruelly familiar. "I didn't want you to worry."

In the here and now, Rat hesitated. "I..." The memory crowded his mind, and he refused to echo the past a second time. "I thought I'd get better. Without having to wo– without having to inconvenience anyone."

Mole snorted. "Well then, congratulations," he said. "You've invented a new kind of stupid."

Even through the post-sickness, Rat had the energy to look indignant. "I find that hard to believe when we're both familiar with Toad–"

"If you'd just admitted to this earlier, we could have got the pneumonia seen to before it got this bad," Mole snapped. "Instead I had to get Toad and the doctor involved on a matter of urgency, then fetch Badger late into the day, and Mrs Otter has been round twice, and when you wouldn't wake–" Mole faltered, anger and fear choking the words. "I don't give a fig about the inconvenience of it all, but since you do, perhaps you should have considered that before deciding that hiding it away would be a kindness."

"How long have you known?" Ratty stands in the too-hot kitchen with shaking paws. He clings to the anger. It hurts less than the grief.

"Ratty–"

"How long?"

Though his nose might not have been as sensitive as Badger's or Mole's, Rat could smell it now. The fear. Potent and tearstained and the type that preceded grief. It mingled with the scent of worm stew – one of Mrs Otter's specialities when it came to home cooked offerings for Rat's housemate – and, all in a rush, he recalled another time the house had been a recipient of the otter's culinary kindness.

"For you," Mrs Otter says, pushing the dish into Ratty's paws. "Thought you might not be eating much after... well–" she glances subtly but not subtly enough to the empty chair along the jetty, "you know."

He looked back to his friend now, the past ricocheting and overlaying the present in uncomfortable parallels. "I'm sorry. I should have – should have told you sooner."

"You should've," Mole agreed. "And we won't make that mistake again, will we?"

Rat rather felt that that was a rather pointed usage of the royal 'we.' "No, we won't."

The tap of the cane denoted Badger's entrance. It sounded louder than usual, as if Badger was leaning heavily against it. "Right then, now that's all sorted out, it's time that some animals got some sleep." He laid a paw on Mole's shoulder. "You too."

"I'm fine–" Mole began.

"Dozing on and off through the wee small hours of the night does not count as fine," Badger told him. "I'm not having two animals collapse on my watch."

With only a small amount of protesting – which betrayed just how tired he was – Mole was ushered out, leaving Badger alone at the bedside.

"So," Rat said, "I guess you're on invalid duty?"

"I'm off to fetch the doctor," Badger said. He grinned. "Toad is on invalid duty until I'm back."

As if on cue – and, to be honest, Rat couldn't be sure that Toad hadn't been waiting in the wings for the perfect entrance – Toad staggered in under a small mountain of blankets. "Don't you worry, Badge, I have this all under control! I've had my staff bring over the finest blankets from Toad Hall, so much better than any ratty old throw you probably have here, no offence, Ratty–"

"Offence taken."

"–and my chef is cooking up enough chicken soup to keep you going through 'til next spring. By the time the doctor comes round, you'll be so well recovered that she'll wonder why she was summoned."

"Toad?" Rat implored Badger. "You're leaving me alone with Toad?"

"It wouldn't have come to this if you'd come clean sooner," Badger said, with just a dash of tell-tale impishness to his words.

"I'm sick! I need rest!"

"And you'll get it," Badger said. He added, in a tone that belied a semblance of pity, "I won't be long."

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!" Rat wheezed.

The door swung shut behind Badger, and Rat was left to warily eye his assigned caretaker.

Toad, in comparison, didn't seem the least bit perturbed by Rat's outburst. He patted Rat's shoulder. "All this stress will do you no good, Ratty, but fortunately, Toad is on the case and I know just what you need."

"Peace and quiet?" Rat offered hopefully.

"Entertainment! Distraction! And, luckily for you, I happen to have discovered the most intriguing hobby. You see, it began last week while I was dropping by the town, and who should I encounter, but..."

Rat didn't remember much of being sick. But, it turned out, he would remember every moment of the recovery.

Whether or not he wanted to.

[tealquacks]

They Share A Kitchen

An intrulogical (can be read as platonic) fic

Originally posted here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644

While the light and dark sides preferred to keep their distance from one another, they had to share some parts of Thomas’ mind. The imagination, for example, was split down the middle just like the two sides that ruled them, a mix of gnarled trees and fluffy clouds, unicorns and demogorgons, living in hostile harmony. They also had to share a living room, a few hallways, and the kitchen. Almost as if Thomas’ subconscious was trying to push the sides together. 

But the sharing didn’t bring them any closer, especially considering recent events. The “dark” sides avoided the “light” sides and Roman avoided everybody. All the shared spaces did was give Logan reasons to share more fun facts at the breakfast table.

“Studies show certain animals that inhabit areas close to human activity have begun to develop nocturnal tendencies in order to avoid said humans,” Logan had said one day over a bowl of dry cereal. 

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Virgil grumbled. Patton yawned.

Logan sighed. “I’ll answer your question with a question. Why do we always wait until eight am to get our breakfast?”

Virgil looked down into his coffee cup, and mumbled something. 

“What was that?”

“...To avoid Remus and Janus.” 

Logan had huffed triumphantly. Really, he found their little schedule fascinating. He made a little schedule on lined paper, marked out by half hours. He practically had their movements tracked down to the minute. Weeks worth of observation, neatly graphed out. It almost made Logan want to cry. 

Six am to seven am seemed to be the hours where Janus, the resident morning person, dragged Remus to the kitchen and got himself a cup of coffee and made himself breakfast, before making a hasty retreat to his room. Remus made breakfast after him, then left at around seven forty five am. Then the ‘light’ sides (minus Roman) claimed the kitchen from eight am to ten. Sometimes even to ten fifteen, depending on what Patton and Virgil made. 

Roman grabbed whatever leftovers there were at ten thirty. Afterwards, (around 11) Janus would emerge to get another cup of coffee and an early lunch, and Patton would get a cup of tea to drink and chat with him. Roman would slip into the kitchen at noon to get water or a snack, then right at twelve o’ eight, Remus would bolt into the kitchen, grab something to eat, then dash away before Patton could enter for another cup of tea at around twelve o’ twelve. At two, Virgil and Patton would sit in the kitchen and chat.

There were only two ‘dead zones’ Logan could find, where nobody visited the kitchen. Between two thirty and four, where everyone kept to themselves in their room until dinner (which Janus and Remus ate at four, himself, Virgil and Patton at five, Roman at around six if he remembered to eat), and from three am to five thirty am. Logan never had the chance to observe the kitchen that early in the morning— which is to say he never had an excuse to disrupt his sleep schedule. 

Even then, his curiosity plagued him. Virgil sometimes woke in the night to grab a midnight snack, but was he ever there at three thirty am? Some mornings there would be a pot left on the stove, or flour on the counters. Maybe it was Roman, trying to cook but only succeeding in making a mess. Or Janus? No, Janus always cleaned up after himself, it wasn’t him. Did Patton wake in the night to cook or bake…?

The logical thing to do was to ask if anyone went into the kitchen at those hours. The logical thing sounded like far much more trouble than simply staking out in the kitchen and waiting to see if someone came along, then ask them if their late night (early morning?) visits to the kitchen were a part of their routine. That would cut out any unnecessary conversation. Certainly it would be the best option— avoid any conversation that could possibly turn into an argument and distress Thomas, while also ridding himself of this curiosity. 

All of those events led to now. Logan sat on the couch, close enough to hear if anyone entered the kitchen, but obscured enough by the couch that he wouldn’t be seen. Not that that mattered, both the kitchen and the common area were pitch black. Not a single sliver of moonlight shone through the windows. He checked his watch. Two fifty-one. He’d been sitting there for an hour.

Logan briefly paused his train of thought. Why did he care so much? He wanted to complete his chart. Why did it matter to him? 

Logan sighed. The mystery person wouldn’t be here for at least another forty minutes. And that is assuming that they follow their schedule every single day. It made sense that there would be nobody in the kitchen. Every single metaphysical person was asleep. Except for him. 

Being thorough is important. What if he had missed something? Or this person's trips to the kitchen add a whole new variable to his chart? Who knows. He certainly didn’t, so he had to find out.

He checked his watch again. Three twenty am. Huh, overthinking truly was a great way to pass the time. Only fifteen minutes to go until the truth revealed itself to him in the form of one of his fellow sides stumbling into the kitchen. Maybe it would be Patton, taking sock-muffled steps into the kitchen on his way to bake, or Janus with a novel and a desire for a cup of tea. The possibility that simply nobody went to the kitchen between three thirty am to five am hung in the air. It didn’t make him any less curious. 

Footsteps. Heavy, thundering things in the kitchen. Logan jolted. Slowly he turned around to look into the kitchen, and found that the lack of light made his eyes useless. All he could see was a shadowy figure in front of the cupboards. He heard one open, then shut a minute and a half later. 

Logan watched the shifting darkness. Metal scratching metal—what the hell was that? He cringed at the harsh sound. More scraping noises. If he could feel anything, he’d classify the prickles running up his spine as fear, or anxiety, but since he certainly had no emotions, he chalked the sensation up to being cold. Even then, Logan flinched hard when the shadowy figure used a food processor. Three thirty five am.

More metallic scraping (sharpening a knife?) mingled with mindless humming. Maybe it was Roman, making himself food. He hadn’t eaten that day, so he would certainly be hungry. So certainly, if Logan were to turn on the light, he would see Roman in his Beauty and the Beast onesie. But then again, Roman was a shit cook. There wouldn’t be any scraping of knives or sounds of rustling in cupboards— maybe the rustling of a cereal box. 

Could it be Patton? No. Patton always loudly sang while cooking. Or maybe it was Patton, and he was just  being considerate of the other sleeping sides. How would he even confront the mystery chef? ‘Hey, not to sound weird but I’ve been keeping track of everyone’s kitchen time and I want to know if you do this every night. I have a chart. Yes, it is laminated, and color coded. Tell me about your schedule.’

Logan stared into the darkness of the kitchen unblinking. Rustling of… something, more chopping and scraping noises. Something sizzled, and Logan slowly breathed in. Oh, it smelled wonderful, rich and herbal… garlic, maybe. And onion. He checked his watch. Three thirty am, and he still had no clue who the hell was making food. What were they making? 

The fridge opened, and Logan could finally see. The cold light glinted off a long, sharp knife. Logan swallowed. There was a hunk of meat on the cutting board. Peering into the fridge was, well, someone, but when they turned their head, Logan could see the bright shock of white in their hair—

“Remus?” Logan exclaimed, bewildered.

Remus jumped and let out a panicked shriek. Logan stood up from his place at the couch, and blindly stumbled to the light switch. Remus flinched at the sudden light, and Logan just blinked as he took in the sight before him.

Sitting on the counter was a baking sheet with a raw rack of lamb perched upon it, covered in some sort of seasoning. On the stove sat a pot of golden broth that barely simmered, and the source of that delectable smell— a skillet of shallots and rice. Another pan of perfectly cooked mushrooms sat close by. Logan blinked.

“What is this?” Logan asked.

“Food,” Remus answered, “and I would’ve let you have some if you hadn’t scared the shit out of me, ‘figuratively’.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. Remus looked as disheveled as ever, even though he only wore a pair of boxers with little octopi on them. For once he wasn’t wearing his eyeshadow, and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. A grain of rice was caught in his moustache. What an odd thing to notice.

“I apologize for interrupting your cooking,” Logan deadpanned, “but if you would be more specific?”

Remus shoved the pan into the fridge, then picked up a bottle of white wine. He took a long swig out of it before pouring a bit into the pan with the rice. It sizzled loudly, and he started mixing vigorously.

“I’m making garlic and herb crusted roast lamb and mushroom risotto,” Remus said.

Logan blinked slowly.

“What?”

Remus looked up from his pan, a little smile on his face.

“Come on, Logan! You’re the smart one, you should know what a risotto is!”

Logan sat down at the kitchen table, staring dazedly at Remus. 

“I know what a risotto is,” Logan said, “a northern Italian dish made with rice and broth until it reaches a creamy consistency, sometimes made with white wine or butter. I didn’t know you knew how to make it, though.”

Remus added a bit of the simmering broth to the rice.

“Why not? I mean, gluttony, envy, greed, all those dirty little sins Thomas associates with me,” Remus said with a shoulder wiggle.

“Well—“

“Are you jealous of my skills? I know how to keep a man happy, Logan. Don’t you know? The fastest way to a man’s heart—“

“Is through his stomach.” An idiom Patton had taught him. Remus nodded rapidly.

“Yes, like gutting a deer! You carve open the stomach and poke through the diaphragm to cut the esophagus and pull everything out! And then you yank out the heart!” Remus cackled manically, pouring more broth into the pan and stirring. A bit of rice flew out. “It’s really tasty. Deer heart, I mean.”

Logan nodded, “And very nutritious. High in potassium and protein.”

 Remus nodded even more, his white streaked hair flopping into his eyes. Logan was still in shock over this whole thing. Who the hell knew Remus could cook? Certainly not him. Now came the hard part, talking.

“Did you know that sheep don’t have teeth in their upper front jaws? And that like, a bunch of sheep are gay!” Remus rambled.

“Do you do this every night?” Logan questioned.

“No,” Remus responded, “most of the time I cook in the buff— it’s freeing!”

“That’s… I mean. Uh. Do you cook every night,” Logan deadpanned.

Remus shrugged.

“On and off. Some days I do some days I don’t!”

Logan opened his mouth, then shut it. Remus, as far as he could tell, was every single bit of chaos Thomas had (that wasn’t already represented by Roman). As Remus himself had said, he was the opposite of rational thought. Remus added a little more broth to the rice, stirring quickly. 

“It’s my turn for questions— I have about seven,” Remus said. Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Remus started rattling his questions off.

“One, why’re you in the kitchen? I’ve never seen you up this late, not very logical of you.”

Logan shrugged, not sure what to say. Lying was Janus’ thing. So he straightened his tie, and said:

“Recently, I have been collecting data about the habits of the other sides, namely, when they use the kitchen. A pattern started to emerge, but there were gaps in my data, one of which exists because of the other sides waiting to make dinner, but the other gap I could not fill, nor could I simply ignore. I assumed everyone would be asleep—“

“—And you got me instead!” Remus chirped. “A pleasant surprise, isn’t it?”

Logan started at the knife laying on the counter. Next to it laid a sharpening steel. His wandering eyes landed on Remus’ back. So pale...

“...It’s certainly a surprise. Where did you—“

Something struck him right between the eyes before clattering to the ground. Logan blinked in shock, before realizing Remus had simply thrown a spoon at him.

“It’s my question time, whore!” Remus exclaimed. He summoned another spoon 

Logan nodded.

“My apologies,” Logan said, “go on?”

Remus’ brows furrowed, but he continued.

“Questions two, three, four, and six—“

“Six?”

“I’m going out of order. Question two: is Roman still a shit cook? Question three: why are you surprised? Four, how long were you sitting there, and six, do you want to eat with me?”

Logan’s eyes went wide as he tried to take in all the questions. Remus stirred in a little more broth, but he never took his eyes off of him. A little disconcerting, but in character for him.

“Well,” Logan started, “Roman is not the most skilled in cooking. His ideas are creative, but the execution tends to be subpar. While cooking he is easily distracted, which leads to burnt things. The food he summons is wonderful, though. However, this information may not be recent nor accurate because I have not seen Roman since the events after the wedding.”

“The events— you mean when Padre flipped out and turned into a frog? And Jannie told everyone his name, and Roman got princey pissed?

Logan nodded.

“Yes. But to answer question three as honestly as I can, I did not have any reason to believe you had any cooking skill, especially not of this level.”

Remus tilted his head. “Why so?”

“Because of what you represent to Thomas,” Logan explained, “all of his “bad” creativity. I had no reason to believe you could make anything good, let alone what smells like a finely made risotto.” 

Logan expected Remus to throw something at him again. Instead, Remus seemed surprisingly calm, looking down at his risotto. Logan straightened his tie again.

“Not only that,” he continued,” but also because Thomas does not possess cooking skills of this caliber.”

Remus chuckled.

“Thomas also does not possess knowledge of a lot of the shit you and Jan talk about. Like, philosophy and psychology and a whole lot of other stuff. Roman knows spanish! So who’s to say that I can’t cook? Besides, Thomas’ perception of me hasn’t done shit since the split, ya know? He has no power over me. He sees me as bad, yeah, and I don’t give a fuck. If you ask me, if Thomas let Janus take control instead of Prudey-Patton, we’d be sailing much much much smoother. But that’s only my opinion of course!”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think Janus would be a much better ‘morality’ than Patton. He has good opinions of the shit Thomas should be doing. And, he likes me! I’d say it to his face.  Patton’s face. Actually I might have? I’m not sure! I’m not sure…”

“I don’t think you have,” Logan said, “but it would be unwise for Janus to take Patton’s role, since Thomas is attached to Patton and the sudden shift would be detrimental to his mental and emotional health. Besides, I don’t think Janus could actually take his place, since he also acts as Thomas’ self preservation.”

 Remus rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Question four! Let’s go!”

“I was sitting on the couch for about an hour and forty four minutes. Before that I was in my room. I came out and sat on the couch at one fifty one, so I wouldn’t be tempted to go to bed.”

Remus whistled low. He let go of the spoon, which kept stirring the risotto even without his touch.

“Goddamn, that’s dedication. I can’t even sit still for half that time! What would you have done if nobody showed up?”

Logan looked awkwardly down at his hands. Honestly, he hadn't thought of what he would do. 

“Go back to my room and sleep,” Logan answered, “but stay up this late for at least a week in order to make sure I had proper data.”

Remus crossed his arms and leaned back against the stove. With one hand, he tapped his fingers to his thumb in a quick rhythm— index finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, ring finger to thumb, pinkie to thumb, over and over again.

“It really must mean a lot to you. Which leads to question five!”

“I thought you said you were—“

“Going out of order? Well, I’m not! I’m unpredictable like that. Question five! Why does charting our schedules mean so much to you?”

Logan stared at the knife laid on the counter. For a split second, he considered standing up and leaving. Because how could he explain the reason he decided to chart their movements? There were so many, each one sillier and more trivial than the last, each one of them soaked in emotion, so much so there was no denying how he felt, and if the others found out they’d never ever listen to him ever ever again— 

But on the other hand he so desperately wanted to tell him, just to get the words out, so they’d stop pushing on him. Logan fiddled with his tie. 

Logan took a slow breath in.  On the counter laid the knife. Logan’s eyes flicked around the kitchen. Sharpening steel, cutting board, some leftover herbs, Remus, the streak of white in his hair. The air was cold, the floor was hard, the chair felt sturdy, and his tie was smooth. Sizzling of the pan, his own foot, tapping restlessly on the ground, Remus’ quiet humming. The air smelled like chicken stock and a bit of garlic. None of Remus’ usual reek, surprisingly. Logan moved his tongue around a little. His mouth tasted like spit. Nothing more, nothing less. He breathed out.

“I realized that all I do is pointless. Every plan and suggestion I give is ignored, or unwanted, unless I push and push… but even then, I’m not listened to. The chart is what I believe Janus would call a ‘coping mechanism’. I know this, too, is pointless, but knowing that I can complete this without any interruption, without any need for input from the others is comforting. It does nothing, and yet I’ve dedicated a good deal of time towards it.”

Remus stared at him, expression unreadable. That was until a bright, manic smile split his features, and he clapped his hands.

“So it’s like jacking off!” Remus exclaimed.

Logan made a face, looking at Remus with nothing but unbridled confusion.’The spoon in the risotto kept on stirring by itself.

“...And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well, it makes you feel phenomenal, it’s something you do for yourself, and it’s good for stress relief!”

Logan blinked slowly, then looked down at his lap, desperately trying to keep his composure.

“That is a good metaphor. Just like masturbation, this chart is, in the end, pointless.”

Remus snorted, and rolled his eyes. He sat down at the table next to Logan, and their knees bumped. Remus set both his elbows on the table.

“I don’t see how it’s pointless.” He said, “It’s something you’re doing to make yourself feel better because everyone else is shit. As you said, a coping mechanism. What makes it pointless?”

“It serves no purpose,” Logan deadpanned.

“Ya see, Logan, when you really, really think about it, everything is pointless!” Remus exclaimed. “Every meal we eat and person we see and every idea we have and every place we go and every happy moment is pointless, because in the end it’ll all go away! It’ll all be for nothing! Thomas will die and we’ll go with him, so everything is pointless!” 

Remus leaned closer. Their foreheads touched. How was Remus’ skin so warm? Logan swallowed, trying to push the tingling sensation in his chest down. Fear. It was fear. 

“Every single little thing is pointless!” Remus whispered intensely, “It’s true, you know it is, so don’t you agree?”

Logan looked him dead in the eyes.

“No, I don’t,” Logan said darkly, “Because while death is inevitable, Thomas’ life still matters. It might not matter cosmically, but his happiness and well being matter to me, and I will do everything in my power to give him a wonderful life, a life he can smile at even when he is close to death. So all those things you just said were meaningless? They matter more than anything. To Thomas, and to me.”

Remus smiled, wicked and sharp, waggling his eyebrows.

“So your chart isn’t pointless,” Remus said mischievously, “nothing you do is. As a part of Thomas, anything and everything you do matters. And if you say it doesn’t, then that makes you a hypocrite!”

Logan’s eye twitched. Ah, dammit, he just got played like a cheap kazoo by a guy who eats deodorant. 

“I guess you’re right.”

Remus dramatically leaned back, arms outstretched like a bird.

“I know!”

Logan sighed, hands in his lap. The risotto kept on stirring itself. Was it done? How long had it been? Logan looked at his watch. He couldn’t see, his vision clouded. He blinked. 

“I don’t know,” Logan said, “I’m Thomas’ logic I don’t know why he won’t listen to me anymore. Why none of them ever listen to me. I don’t feel like I belong among the sides even more. I’m a part of Thomas. It’s hard. I know I’m needed, but I don’t feel that way, and I can’t stop feeling. I’ve tried. I’ve really, really tried. Really, everything feels pointless, because none of my efforts yield anything of value.”

Remus pat his head.

“There there,” Remus said, “now about these feelings. Have you tried turning that big brain of yours off and on again?”

A chortle escaped Logan’s month. Then, a teardrop landed on his glasses. He ripped them off and slammed them on the table, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. They didn’t work, and dissolved into hiccuping, pathetic sobs.

“Oh boy,” Remus said. He didn’t move his hand from Logan’s head, gently stroking his hair like how one would pet a cat. Oddly enough, it was a little calming. Logan thought for a second of what the others would see. Remus, in only boxers, petting him as he cried. Remus made a few cooing noises.

“Why did I even tell you all this?” Logan whined, sniffling wetly.

Remus removed his hand. Logan heard him stand, then rustle around a bit.

“It’s like, four am,” Remus explained, “everyone is dumb as fuck at four am. Even you, Raisin Brain.”

“Raisin Brain?”

“A pun on the cereal and a reference to how scrunchy and smart your brain is, like. A raisin? It is also something that proves my point. But I get you, sometimes the thoughts just have to come out. Here, try some.”

Logan looked up from his hands to see Remus, offering him a spoon with some of the risotto on it. He’d mixed in the mushrooms. The risotto was as pale as his skin. Logan took the spoon from Remus, and put it in his mouth. His teary eyes went wide at the taste. The rice was cooked wonderfully, and he could taste the wine and chicken broth. The mushrooms in the dish added a wonderful earthiness,  and Logan forced himself to chew slowly, relishing every last flavor before swallowing.

Remus peered down at him anxiously, twiddling his moustache with the hand not holding the spoon.

“What do you think?” He asked. Logan wiped his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth to catch the last bit of the taste.

“It tastes wonderful, the wine and the mushroom… it’s a very well done dish, you should be proud of yourself.”

Remus clapped his hands, dropping the spoon and letting it clatter on the floor. He jumped up and down, hopping back over to the pan of risotto and taking it off the heat and letting it rest on the stove.

“Won’t it get cold?” Logan asked. He sniffled.

“Not unless I want it to,” Remus said, “and I don’t want it to! I’m serving it with the lamb, which I’m gonna roast. But it has to marinate for a while. Here, while we wait…”

He grabbed the bottle of white wine from the counter and sat at the table with Logan, offering the bottle to Logan. How long had it been since he’d had wine, or anything alcoholic? One week and three days. How long had it been since he’d had wine somewhere that wasn’t his bedroom? About a year and a half. He couldn’t risk being drunk in front of the others. Then they wouldn’t view him as serious and smart, just as a silly, drunken idiot—

None of those others were here. They were all asleep.

But what would Remus think? Would he care? He could hold this moment over his head for the rest of Thomas’ life, and he would no longer be able to keep him in check. He’d truly be useless, unnecessary.

“I can hear you thinking from here, Teach,” Remus said, brows furrowed, “I can get you some water instead?”

Logan nodded. Remus snapped his fingers, and the golden wine faded until it was clear. Logan hesitantly took the bottle, gingerly sipping. Yes, that was water. He couldn’t help but take a deep gulp, almost choking on the cold, wonderful water. He lowered the bottle. Logan furrowed his brows. 

“Wine to water? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?” Logan questioned.

Remus smirked, “I think my way is more fun. I still have more questions, if you’re game?”

“I’m not ‘game’. If I was, I’d be chess,” Logan said.

“I’d be strip poker!” Remus cackled, throwing his head back in glee. When he composed himself, he looked at Logan. “But that’s not what I mean. I mean. Okay! Question eight.”

Logan blinked. He put his glasses back on, sniffling pathetically.

“I thought you only had seven questions—“

“Question eight!” Remus proclaimed, “why are you so self conscious?”

Logan spluttered.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Uh. It’s like, four am, and you’re in your usual clothes. I’m in my boxers. It’s a little weird.”

Logan looked over Remus. Pale, a few small scars unique to him. The octopi boxers. 

“I prefer to remain clothed,” Logan said, “especially in places where I could be seen. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Remus snorted.

“Whatever, I’ll get an honest answer from you one day. Now, question seven and six— question seven! What should I cook tomorrow? Er, tomorrow at this time. Time is weird.”

Logan paused, sipping the water slowly. He could say some basic dish, and join him for that, or he could test the theories building in his head, test the limits of the chart by throwing a new variable into the schedule, that variable being Remus.

“Croissants!” Logan exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “Yes. Croissants. Homemade croissants.”

Remus’ brows shot up. He flicked his wrist, and a piece of worn looking paper appeared in his hand. He glanced at the paper, eyes going wide.

“Ah, fuck, this recipe takes like, twelve hours just to prepare the dough, holy shit! This’ll take all day—“

“If you begin the preparation at three thirty am, you’ll be done at four forty pm on the dot.”

Remus looked at Logan with a bright smile. There was still a grain of rice stuck in his mustache, as white as the streak in his hair. Logan blinked slowly, suddenly struck with the urge to say something was pointless so Remus would get closer, press their foreheads together and do… something. Remus flicked his wrist, and the recipe disappeared in a burst of smoke.

“Perfect!” Remus exclaimed, “Come around the kitchen then, tomorrow, I mean. And I’ll make you the Cwossaints.”

“Croissants,” Logan deadpanned. 

“Oh, keep talking French to me, honeycomb! Ah! But now, it is time for the last question, question six!” 

Remus struck a pose, and a pan flew out of the fridge and clattered onto the stove. Pale, polished bones stuck up— oh, the lamb. With a snap of Remus’ fingers, the pan suddenly burst into a plume of green flame, lapping at the walls and the ceiling, leaving no mark, as Remus’ destruction typically did. The rich smell of garlic and cooked meat filled the kitchen. Logan stared at Remus, unblinking. 

“Question six,” he repeated.

Remus made a face, but nodded and spoke. “Yeah, question six! Do you want to eat with me? The lamb and the risotto? I promise, it’s heavenly! And good company would make it even better!”

Logan stared at the stove. Alright. Pros and cons. It was four am, but he could still be logical, weigh his options. 

Pros: A good meal, conversation with someone who listened.

Cons: lack of sleep, another distraction, what if the others find out. 

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, standing from the table, and gingerly pushing his chair back, “but I really should be going back to sleep. It certainly smells wonderful, but I really must be going to bed.”

Remus crumpled a little, dropping the pose.

“Yeah, sure, whatever! I’m sure Jannie will eat it for breakfast. But you’re eating the cross-I-ants, or I’ll skin you.”

Logan nodded, and took a step backward. 

“I will.”

Remus stood, picking up the wine bottle and passing it to Logan. Logan took the bottle, filled with water, not the wine. He gave Remus a tight lipped smile, and walked to the stairs. Logan set his hand on the banister.

“Remus?”

“Yes?” 

Logan didn’t dare look at Remus.

“You have a grain of rice in your mustache.”

Remus cackled as Logan ascended the stairs, not looking behind him. It was as if he was a child again, running away from some sort of shadow monster that emerged only in the darkness. Running away, not from Remus, but from something. A lot of things. The water in the wine bottle sloshed.

Logan reached his room and flung the door open. His bed was perfectly made, indigo sheets pulled up nice and trim with no sign of being slept in. The lights were still on, bathing the room in clinical white light. His desk was covered in papers that he should’ve already looked over. A well loved indigo office chair sat in front of the desk. He set the wine bottle on his desk, and leaned over his chair. There was his chart. Almost reverently, he took a green marker, and, in the once empty space, wrote Remus’ name. 

There. It was done. He’d finished it. It was neat and tidy, and his. He exhaled slowly. Carefully, he undid his tie, then slipped off his shirt. After that, his shoes, then his jeans. He folded them neatly, and set them at the foot of his perfectly made bed. Sleep. Sleep sounded good. So did a lamb dinner. But there would be croissants, another excuse to sit at the kitchen table and be asked silly, harmless questions while studying the pale skin of Remus’ back.

Logan snapped his fingers to turn the lights off, and sat down in the office chair. Nice and comfortable. He relaxed, and took slow, deep breaths to take himself to sleep.

Each breath smelled like cooked lamb and wine.

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 8

Word Count: 4,741

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens (others)

Notes: So here’s the next installment of this series. Trying to move this along a little quicker. For a series that was only supposed to be 3 to 5 parts it’s practically double that. Ugh! Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy. As always send me your feedback and suggestions. Happy Reading!

When your phone rang during your FaceTime with Tyler, you didn't expect who or what you heard to be on the other end. There was no 'Hi' or 'How are you' just a quick, "Hey (Y/N), I need your help?"

"Well hello to you too, Brandon." You told the winger from Pittsburgh.

 "Oh yeah, Hi." You hadn't seen much of Tanev or Crosby for that matter since that night of the poker game in your suite, so it was kind of interesting to hear from him now.

 "What do you need help with?"

 "Well, you probably already know this, but it's Sid's birthday on Friday. The guys were saying they want to do something special with him playing that day and all. I may have mentioned that we've talked before…" He paused then and you had to wonder what else he'd told his teammates about that night. Hopefully, he didn't know about what happened with his captain after he left. "Anyhow, we were hoping to do a little party after the game, maybe with a cake and everything? And I was wondering if you could help me pull that off."

 "I'm sure it won't be a problem." He could've given you a bit more notice, but you figured Carly could get you any decorations that you needed and you'd have one of the chefs whip up a cake.

 "You're a lifesaver."

 "Well, I wouldn't go that far. I'm just doing my job." Which you totally were, though you'd go the extra mile since it was Sidney. "I'll shut down one of the restaurants and we'll have it all ready to go after the game for you. Anything special you're looking for."

 "Nah, whatever you do will be amazing." Brandon was being awfully complimentary, which was appreciated though you wondered if he had another motive. Not that you'd mind going a second round. Actually, you'd like to expand on the first one that you'd had with him and Zack, though being interrupted by Sid really wasn't something you minded. "I definitely owe you one."

 "Hmm, I suppose you do. I might have to collect on it soon." Though it wasn't going to be tonight as you still needed to take that Tylenol for your jaw.

 "I'll hold you to it." You were sure he would, it would just be a matter of when. "Well, listen if you have any questions you have my number, so just call."

 "I will," you told Brandon, then you said your goodbyes and headed to bed for the night. The next day was fairly normal, though you and Carly worked on party details for the next day. Thankfully, your pastry chef was excited to make a cake for one of hockey's best player. He told you it would be magnificent and you had no doubt that he would come through. Carly was able to transform the restaurant from its quiet dining atmosphere into a celebratory nightclub. She was even able to get one of the other staff members to act as DJ for the event. You were quite pleased with what both of you pulled off when it was finally said and done. Now all you needed was the birthday boy.

 "Brayden pointed out…" Carly said then started to giggle. "Did you see what I did there?" All you could do was shake your head at her bad pun on Brayden's last name, and tell her yes. "Well anyway, he said this might not be a celebration if the Pens lose. You realize they'll be eliminated right?"

 "Fuck." The word flew out of your mouth as you realized she was right. You kept forgetting that these qualifying rounds were best of five instead of normal playoffs which were seven. "We may have done all this work for nothing." The two of you kept an eye on the score, watching it remain zero, zero, until only minutes left in the third when the Canadiens scored. That's when the f-bomb dropped out of your mouth again, only this time you realized you may be losing that bet to Tyler, not that you would mind that. His remote vibrator play had been fun and you were beginning to think that being his sex slave for twenty-four hours might not be so bad. As time ticked down, you could see the desperation in the Pens play. Things weren't coming together for them and you had a feeling that it wasn't going to be a birthday that Sid wanted to remember.

 "We may end up turning this party into a, congratulations on making the playoffs party for the Canadiens," Carly commented and you had to agree as the puck slid into the empty net, essentially sealing the fate of the Penguins. All that was left was for the horn to sound, and when it did, you grabbed your phone and shot Brandon a text as to what he wanted to do. His reply was to be radio silent, so you were left wondering if you'd be eating that birthday cake alone.

 About an hour later, your phone buzzed. Party's a no go. Sid is pissed.

 "Well, looks like this party is over before it even started."

 "All this work," Carly sighed.

 "I hear you, Car, but I wouldn't be in a mood to party if I just lost my ticket to the Stanley Cup Playoffs." These guys were probably down in the dumps, then again maybe not. A lot of them had families that they seemed to want to get home to, so maybe they were looking at this as a blessing. All you knew, is that now that the Pens were moving out, the next top-seeded team would be moving in and you needed to get the transitioning team ready to go for when they left. After taking down the decorations with Carly, you went to find out when the Pens would be leaving and what their exit plan was. It was obvious to you when they'd put the top-seeded teams in your hotel, that they planned on them staying awhile, so having them move out so soon, wasn't something you were prepared for. People would have to be shifted around so that rooms could be ready hours after they left. You reworked the schedule to make all of this happen and hadn't even noticed the Pens come into the hotel.

 It was hours later when most of the hotel was quiet that you realized there was something you had to do. Making your way back up to the restaurant, you found the birthday cake that had been specially made for Sidney. You cut a large piece and placed a candle on it. Taking it to Sid's room was a risk, but you couldn't let his birthday go without notice. He answered your knock fairly quickly, though didn't look pleased at all. You pasted on a bright smile before saying, "So I couldn't let the day pass without at least saying Happy Birthday." You held the cake out towards him.

 "Thanks," he answered, a small lop-sided grin on his face. "Not really a birthday I want to remember."

 "I get that," you answered, now noticing that his suitcase was on his bed and that he must have been packing to go home. "Well, I just wanted to drop this off." He took the cake out of your hand and this awkwardness came over both of you. It was nothing like it was the other night with him. "Well…um…take care Sid." Turning, you headed towards the elevators, somewhat expecting Sid to call you back. As you pressed the button, you heard his door shut and knew that wasn't going to happen. At least you had a little fun with him, you told yourself as you headed up to your suite for the night. He had every right to be upset; you weren't exactly sure what you were expecting when you knocked on the door but it is what it is, you thought as you headed inside. You took off your blazer, setting it on the chair before heading over to the bar to pour yourself a glass of wine before heading off to bed when you heard the knock on the door.

 You were half annoyed as you made your way to the door. Now that you were reconciled to a night alone, all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep. "Sid?" To say you were shocked when you opened the door was putting it mildly. "Is something wrong?"

 "Yeah," he breathed out, and you raised your brow in question. "This piece of cake is too big for one person. I thought maybe you'd want to share it with me?"

 "Oh…um…sure." He gave you a little smile and opened the door wider for him to come in. He followed you over to the couch, the two of you sitting down.

 "So, did you really have a cake made for me?"

 "Yeah." Well, there was no point in saying you didn't, when the piece you'd cut for him had his name on it. "Speaking of which, hold on one second." You dashed into the kitchen then came back out with a match to light the candle. Singing a quick happy birthday to Sid, you then said, "Make a wish." He thought about it for a second then blew the candle out. "I know it's not the birthday you thought it would be." It had to be hard to go from celebrating with the cup two years in a row to now being eliminated in the qualifying rounds.

 "I'd be lying if I said it was. I never thought I'd play a hockey game on my birthday, let alone lose that game. It's definitely one I want to forget about." He seemed to think about what he just said, for he quickly added, "well maybe not all of it."

 The night was still young, so you were anxious to see if you could maybe turn this birthday around for him. "I should've gotten another fork." You made a move to get up but he stopped you with a hand on your thigh.

 "I think we can share." Sid dipped the fork into the cake then fed you the piece. Of course, it was delicious, but you were more focused on the man who was feeding you than the actual cake itself.

 "Mmm," you hummed as you enjoyed the sugary treat and you watched as Sid's tongue darted out to lick his lips. Grabbing the fork from him, you proceeded to feed him a piece as well. "You probably should've gotten the first bite."

 He hummed his approval as well, the sound sending a rush of heat to your core. "I'd rather have a bite of something else." As soon as the words left his mouth, his hand was at the back of your neck pulling you towards him where his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn't tentative, it was full-on heat from the moment you touched. Each of you yearning for the other. Vaguely, you remember setting the cake down on the coffee table, so that you could reach up and wrap your arms around Sid's neck, pulling yourself closer to him. You felt yourself melting into him and the couch as he guided you back against the cushions.

 His body lay heavily on top of yours but you welcomed the weight, as you both shifted trying to seek more contact with each other. Sid's hand glided down your body, and he scrunched your skirt up to your hips so that his body could fit between your legs. He continued to devour your mouth, and you felt like you were back in high school making out on your parent's sofa. His hands roamed up your body, untucking your shirt so he could glide them up to feel your breasts. Sid rolled your covered nipple between his thumb and forefinger; your back arching up into his touch as you moaned into the kiss.

 His lips finally broke from yours, so you could both catch your breath. "We could move this upstairs," you suggested.

 "I like that idea," he answered capturing your lips again briefly before easing off the couch and helping you up. When you adjusted your skirt back down he just cocked his head at you with a little smirk on his face. "Did you think that was necessary?"

 "Depends on if you want a show or not?"

 "There are options?" That was sort of a loaded question you weren't sure you wanted to answer.

 "Aren't there always?" You were at the top of the stairs then and his hands grabbed you around the waist and hauled you close to him so that you were nose to nose.

 "There's a lot of questions going on here, maybe we should just quit talking."

 He gave you a full ten seconds to answer before crushing your mouth to his. Before you knew it, you were in your bedroom. His hands were all over you and you couldn't get enough of it, but you were also doing your share of touching every exposed inch of his body. The last time the two of you were together, he'd maintained this cool composure as he'd gotten you off on his thigh while remaining completely clothed. You weren't going to miss the opportunity this time to see Sidney on his birthday in his birthday suit. Gathering his shirt in your hands, you broke from the kiss to lift it off his body. The man was simply perfection, as your nails raked across his abs. He shivered at your touch but then thrust into your hips letting you know that he wanted you just as much as you did him.

 Sid's hands were at the back of your skirt, searching for the zipper until he found it and slid it down so you could shimmy out of the garment. He wasn't satisfied with just getting you out of that though, as he all but tore your shirt from your body. You could swear that you heard the seam rip, but you didn't care. He held you at arms-length then, drinking in the sight of you clad only in your bra and thong. "Mmm, you're the best present I've unwrapped today." He hummed out in appreciation as he stared at you.

 You blushed at the compliment that rolled off his tongue, before taking a deep breath to regain your composure. "You still have more to unwrap."

 "So it seems," he chuckled and then turned your body so that your back was to him as he unhooked your bra. "Have to make it last," he whispered in your ear, as his lips dropped to the hollow of your neck. Your head fell back against him, rolling to the side to give him greater access as you enjoyed the feel of his mouth hot on you. One strap slid down your shoulder, the bra just barely hanging on until he slithered the other one down with it. You could feel his eyes on your breasts as he sucked on your neck, a groan coming from him as his cock pressed into your back. "Beautiful," he breathed out over the spot where he'd just been nibbling, and it was your turn to shiver as the sensation of both hot and cold had goose pimples rising on your flesh. His hands snaked up your sides so he could cup your breasts, toying with your nipples and making them pebble under his touch. You ached to feel his lips there, but Sid took his time, just tweaking and pinching.

 His right hand traveled south to your core, as he snuck his hand inside the thin material of your panties; fingers massaging just above your clit. You wanted, no, you needed more. Your hips flexing of their own accord, silently begging him to venture further down. When he did finally touch your clit, you moaned out in pleasure, but Sid didn't stay there long. His fingers slipped between your folds, just running back and forth not entering you. "You're dripping." He turned your head to capture your lips in a short kiss. "Are you always like this or just for me?"

 You knew he was looking for his ego to be stroked a bit and you were willing to fondle more than that. "Only for you," you moaned out, as your hand snuck back to rub his cock through his shorts.

 "Not yet baby. It's my birthday remember." You nodded weakly, as his fingers played with your pussy. "Take off your panties and lie down on the bed for me." You followed his command, ridding yourself of the flimsy material before climbing onto the mattress, and situating yourself amongst the pillows. "Spread your legs for me princess." Sid had a spell on you, and so you obeyed his orders. "Wider baby, let me see how wet you are." His eyes were riveted to your cunt, which was soaking by this point and only grew wetter under his intense scrutiny. "I seem to recall only getting a taste of that cake downstairs. I wonder if you're as sweet as it was." Sid crawled onto the bed then, positioning himself between your thighs, before grabbing your hips and hauling them towards him. His eyes held yours as his tongue snuck out for that first taste of you. "Mmm, I thinking I need more." He was lapping at your folds and drinking in your juices, while you fisted the sheets from the pleasure of his tongue. Your moans filling the air of the room. "So sweet," he hummed against your pussy, before nibbling on your clit and causing your hips to buck up. His strong arm held you still as he ate you out, alternating between thrusting his tongue inside you and flicking it over your clit.

 "Sid, please," you begged, but he kept you teetering on the edge. "Fuck." He slid one finger inside you, your pussy clenching around it. "Oh god," you groaned out at the feel of him. His mouth was solely focused on your clit now that one finger just pumping in and out of you, and you felt your orgasm start to build. It wasn't long before it crested, and wash over you, your body arching up into his mouth. "Sid," you moaned out as you came.

 "You're so beautiful when you cum," he panted as his finger slid out of you. "Open," he demanded as he brought that same finger to your lips. You sucked on it, tasting yourself as you ran your tongue around his digit. "Fuck princess, you do that so well." His finger popped out of your mouth, before he said, "how about you try sucking on something else." When you licked your lips in anticipation, he captured them in a searing kiss, then rolled your bodies so that you were laying on top of him. You broke the kiss, then wiggled down his body, trailing kisses on his chest and abdomen as you went. When you got to the waistband, you ran your fingers underneath it, your tongue following your movements as you shimmied his shorts down his legs. Your nails skated up the inside of his bare thighs as his cock sprang free. Taking your tongue, you licked up the underside of his dick before taking the head inside your mouth. He sighed in contentment and his hand reached down to thread through your locks, gently urging you to take more of him. As you sank down inch by slow inch on his cock, Sid groaned with pleasure. "That's it, princess, take me in deep." Sid's thighs weren't the only thing that was thick on him as your mouth took as much of him inside as you could. Slipping your one hand around the base, you pumped what you couldn't fit in, as your jaw worked up and down on the length of him. "Fuck princess, you are so good." You hummed under his praise, the vibrations going through his body had him fisting his hand in your hair. His hips thrust up into your face, making you gag slightly before they moved back down on the mattress. You cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you hollowed out your cheeks only to release him with a pop. Running your tongue down his length, you licked at his balls before sucking them. "Jesus," he hissed out, while your hand pumped his erection up and down. Sid gathered your hair at the nape of your neck so he could watch you. "So beautiful," he praised and you moved back up to take him inside your mouth once again. Sounds of sucking and slurping filled the room as your head bobbed up and down on his cock. His balls tensed, right before he pulled you off of him. "Fuck…as much as I want to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours; I'm not ready for the night to be over just yet."

 He dragged your body up flush with his so he could kiss you again and he rolled you both one more time. His tongue exploring your mouth with languid strokes, that made you want to kiss him for days on end, but then you felt his dick nudging at your entrance and your body craved him more. As he pressed into your dripping cunt, your leg snaked around his waist, pulling him in closer. "So eager," he breathed out, making eye contact with you until he was buried deep inside you. You'd never felt so full before. Sid's hip thrust just centimeters more into you, his cock hitting deep within your core and you felt stretched beyond compacity. "Is that what you wanted?" Feebly, you nodded a yes. "Words, princess?"

 "Yes, Sid…yes," you were panting now with need. Your body aching for him to move. Thankfully he didn't make you beg any longer as he started a slow thrust in and out of your pussy. Sid's mouth moved down your neck, to your breasts, where he took one turret nipple into his mouth and playfully bit down on it. The effect went straight to your cunt, as you could feel the wetness now dripping down to your ass. Yet he continued his slow pace of pumping into you. "Please, Sid…" you begged wanting more. Sid wasn't to be deterred though and continued the rhythm he enjoyed, toying with your nipples as you moaned out in ecstasy.

 He was building you slowly up, just gradually bringing you to the edge. You felt your legs start to tense, only to have Sid pull his cock out completely. "On your knees baby." You did his bidding, eager to find that release your body desired. His hands roamed around the globes of your ass, softly caressing it as he pushed back into you. Once he was fully inside, you pushed back against him. "Easy princess," his words on had you repeating the motion until you felt his hand smack hard on your ass. You yelped in surprise, even though the sting sent a rush of sensation to where you both were connected. His hand soothed your bottom, before delivering another blow. This time you moaned, enjoying the bite his hand brought. "You like that, don't you princess?"

 "Mmmhmm," you whimpered as he smacked the other side this time.

 Finally, Sid started to thrust in and out of your soaking pussy. Every so often spanking you as he went. You could feel your body just hovering on the edge of orgasm, but yet not being able to get there. Sid took a fistful of your hair, yanking you back as he started to pound in and out of you. You were so close. "Are you going to cum for me princess?" An incoherent noise let your lips and even you couldn't tell if it was a yes or a no. Wanting to bring you pleasure, Sid's hand snuck to your clit, where he rubbed your little nub furiously. You started to tremble, and he yanked your hair harder. "Look at me, princess." You turned to see him, right before your climax hit. Your pussy walls contracting around him and pulling him even deeper inside. You called out his name and then he wildly thrust in and out of your body until he came with a loud groan. Sid fell on top of you, your arms collapsing from your orgasm and the weight of him. Only when you both dropped to the mattress did he roll onto his side, taking you with. "Fuck, I needed that."

 His hands caressed your body, just a feather-light touch that calmed you both as you floated back to reality. "Me too," you mumbled as his cock slipped out of you. Turning so that you could face him, you cupped his cheek, only noticing then, that he'd shaved his playoff beard off already. "I know it doesn't make up for the loss but I hope you enjoyed that present."

 His signature lop-sided grin appeared on his face. "More than you know." His hands now rubbing your ass where he had spanked you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

 A light chuckle escaped your mouth. "No, I enjoyed it."

 "Mmm, me too." His hand that was making circles on your ass stopped and you felt him pulling away, only you didn't want him to. This opportunity would probably never happen again and you wanted to enjoy it just a little longer.

 "Stay," you found yourself saying and you weren't a hundred percent sure as to why. Every other fling you'd had in this damn hotel had been just that, a quick mating of two people and as soon as it was over, you left or asked them to. But this right here with Sid, something was different. Your mind told you that nothing would ever come of this. That Sid would go on his way back to Pittsburgh or Cole Harbour and go on with things, just as you would here, but you wanted to savor this moment just a little longer.

 "Are you sure?" you nodded yes to his question, as you didn't trust your voice at the moment. "Well since you insist." His lips captured yours again, this time the kiss soft and sweet, and you were back to being those two high school kids that were on the couch in the first blush of love. It was not something you wanted to dwell on as you felt your heart give way to this man. When you finally broke apart, the smile on his face had you half falling in love with him. "Sleep, and then we can have another round before I have to leave."

You hated that last part, why did it have to be this way. If only the Pens had won, you thought, but then would you be in this position right now if they had? Would Sid have kept you at arm's length focusing solely on hockey? Your mind ran through a million scenarios, all of them ending the same way and so you told yourself that this was just a fascination with one of hockey's elite players and that the moment he was gone you'd move on. By the time you finally got your racing thoughts under control, Sid was fast asleep. He looked so peaceful as if he didn't have a care in the world and you supposed now that his season was over, he didn't. But the season was still going on for sixteen other teams and you. You needed to focus on them.

 Reaching over, you grabbed your phone to check the time, only to notice you'd missed a call and several text messages from Tyler. Tyler, you thought with a wistful sigh. You still had that bet with him. Technically, you'd won for here you were, your body sated from its activities with Sidney. You looked back over at the man, who was sleeping with his arms wrapped around your body. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you decided to snap the picture that would prove as evidence of what had transpired tonight, then you hurriedly set the phone back on the nightstand. Now the only question was, did you send it to Tyler or just keep it as a memory to look back on for years to come.