#beautiful cake made by the culinary students at my school :)

[weepingdove]

so sugar sweet!

[mauvefayette6]

could i request a charlie dalton x male reader where the reader doesnt know about the dead poets society, but bakes a lot, and follows charlie to give him something sweet and ends up finding out about them? maybe theyre already dating but nobody knows and the other poets find out bc of this? thank you so much!

Baker (Charlie Dalton x male!Reader)

It was an unusual yet a loving pairing, Charlie Dalton and (Y/n) (L/n). They were practically polar opposites in every way possible.

(Y/n) (L/n) loves to bake, usually bakes when he is stressed out or when he is excited. Contrary to the rest of the Welton population, (Y/n)'s parents actually supported this dream. He had amazing marks and could get into an amazing culinary school if be so desired to.

Charlie Dalton was the opposite in the sense that he had no care in world and no plan. His father wanted him to be a banker and so he will be one. He had no say in anything about his life, nor did he have a say in who he'll date.

(Y/n) and Charlie met one Saturday morning, it was sunny and warm not the usual Vermont weather but beautiful nonetheless.

(Y/n), with the permission of Mr. Nolan, would cook breakfast every first Saturday of the month. Which he took extremely serious and would go all out for the staff and the students who got really amazing food.

Everyone always looked forward to the first Saturday specifically because of this. Charlie Dalton got a little too excited that Saturday that his mind and body woke him up a tad bit earlier then planned.

He had no choice but begin to get ready for breakfast. He wore casual wear as it was Saturday and the Professors weren't going to yell at him for being out of uniform. He made sure he was loud enough to at least disturb a sleeping Cameron.

He walked out and towards the Dinning Hall where he'd wait. That's when he saw a very handsome (Y/n). He was standing outside the door with a grin on his face. (Y/n) looked up and noticed Charlie Dalton walking up to the breakfast.

"Early bird always catches the bird!" (Y/n) enthusiastically cheered smiling at Charlie Dalton who chuckled.

"I'm not a usual early riser, just wanted to be first in line for (Y/n)'s famous breakfast," Charlie winked.

"I'm flattered, Breakfast isn't till 8am, it's 6am?" (Y/n) questioned slightly laughing.

"Was a bit too excited, are you done making the food?" Charlie asked.

"I'm done with the three cakes, the sweet bread and the croissants," (Y/n) began. "I'm still making the eggs, the famous small burgers, and just about to make orange juice for over a hundred people!"

"You must really love this to do it unpaid," Charlie laughed.

"Baking os my favorite art, getting the chance to serve everyone and put a smile on their faces is beyond rewarding. That and this is perfect practice for me," (Y/n) shrugged smiling.

Since that day (Y/n) and Charlie became unusual friends. (Y/n) helped Charlie with homework and sometimes even let Charlie help out with the giant breakfast.

In exchange Charlie helped (Y/n) with being more sociable and soccer which (Y/n) isn't proud of saying he wasn't very good at. Charlie was far more athletic and better at talking to others.

(Y/n) slowly discovered feelings he had never felt before. He was unsure if they were always there of if Charlie changed something in him to help him realize said feelings. (Y/n) never thought about dating or having a for life companion. He thought the whole forever partner would come to him later in life.

Charlie Dalton also began to develop more than friendly feelings for (Y/n). He always knew he liked both girls, boys, and everyone in between. He knew of this but was afraid to confront the feelings. He thought it would ruin any friendship he had with anyone.

(Y/n) and Charlie were out by a lake together dipping their feet in the cold water laughing with each other.

At that very moment nothing else mattered, not the school, not the professors, not the world. It was just them two, and that was the only thing on Charlie's head.

(Y/n) was a few inches taller than Charlie which on one hand made Charlie fall more in love with him and on the other hand made him extremely jealous.

"Why are you so tall?" Charlie laughed.

"My dad's really tall, my moms a tad shorter then him," (Y/n) shrugged laughing.

Charlie smiled as he stared into (Y/n)'s eyes, (Y/n) did the same as he looked into Charlies dark brown eyes.

(Y/n) and Charlie couldn't help but lean in as their lips soon meet. It was a beautiful and long kiss as their lips synchronized with each other. Charlie rested his hand on (Y/n)'s cheek in an endearing way.

(Y/n) pulled away resting his forehead on Charlie's. They were smiling at each other as they stood in silence.

"I have never felt this way about anybody else Charlie Dalton," (Y/n) began. "But with you I feel free, I feel new."

"I feel the same way (Y/n) I adore you and hold you so dearly to my heart, as cheesy as it sounds," Charlie chuckled.

"Does this mean we are boyfriends?" (Y/n) smiled his forehead still on Charlie's.

"Yeah, but can we keep it on the low for now? You know how they treat us gay people," Charlie sighed sadly pulling away and sadly staring at the ground.

"It's okay, I was thinking the same. I don't want you getting hurt so we'll keep it a secret until the world is ready," he replied caressing Charlie's cheek and bringing him in for another kiss.

In secret they did everything, from dates far from the school, to their birthday celebration. They passed notes to each other in class and sometimes would sneak a kiss. They were sad that their relationship had to be kept quiet but at the end it was the best for them and their safety.

It was a year as they were now officially Juniors, a new student began to go to Welton. A so called Todd Anderson, Jeffery Anderson's younger brother. Charlie and his friend group befriended him which automatically meant that Todd is (Y/n)'s friend too.

Their one year anniversary was coming up as (Y/n) planned a small celebration. He spent some time baking Charlie's favorite cake and foods. They'll celebrate their anniversary near the lake in the evening, the right time in (Y/n)'s opinion.

The time arrived as (Y/n) began to bring the stuff out, of course he intended it to be a surprise. But he was more surprised seeing Charlie walk into the woods by himself. With a raised eyebrow he began to jog to him. But this seemed to make Charlie run, (Y/n) was unsure if he knew that he was behind him.

"Charlie?" (Y/n) called out. "Charlie! Babe? What are you-" He was cut off the second he saw the cave he saw Charlie enter full of Charlie's friends.

"(Y/n)?" Charlie mumbled seeing the surprise look in his friends face.

"Wrong person?" (Y/n) quickly said as he walked away from the cave but before he could Charlie stopped him.

"I think it's time that we at least tell my friends," Charlie whispered with a smile.

"Are you sure?" (Y/n) mumbled back as Charlie only nodded.

"You guys, I have to say something," Charlie took in a deep breath as he looked at his friends confused face. "As most of you know, I am bisexual. Or at least Neil knew, and (Y/n) is my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? So you two are gay?" Knox asked, "Cool."

"Yeah, why were you so worried? Aren't we in a secret poetry society?" Meeks laughed.

"Congrats, we are so happy for you," Todd who is usually quiet said smiling.

"The reaction I thought you were going to have was different. I'm so happy you guys don't absolutely hate us," Charlie laughed wiping away the tears that began to form.

"We wouldn't hate you for your preferences, we have been friends for too long!" Pitts exclaimed patting Charlie's shoulder.

"How come I didn't know you were in a secret society?" (Y/n) asked.

"It's a secret society, I also didn't know if you would be interested?" Charlie laughed.

After that (Y/n) spent a while with Charlie's friends before resuming his small surprise for their anniversary.

[iidascalves]

Sweets for the Host Club (Kyoya x Reader)

Hey! Sorry I’ve been away for a bit, I’ve been really busy with school. Anyway, I wanted to do a little something kinda outside my comfort zone so I whipped up a little Kyoya fic for y’all. I literally wrote this whenever things were slow at work lol. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Also I might have a little ~spicy~ fic in the works.

—————————————————————————

Sunlight illuminated your spacious club room. A massive kitchen suited with all the best appliances the school could provide. There were granite counter tops to match the white sparkling appliances and fresh vase of flowers at every of the eight work stations. As a second year student and president of the Culinary and Baking Club, you held meetings and hosted activities in this magnificent room.

Today you and your two club members had the stressful task of compiling a display of your finest treats. Why, you ask? A childhood friend of yours reached out and asked you to bake goods for his Host Club. Apparently the bakery where they originally got the sweets from had a fire and won’t be able to bake for them for a while.

“(Y/n)- senpai. Are you sure you’ll be okay delivering these by yourself?” One of your underclassman members asked with concern.

“Of course. I just need help getting things on the cart and then I’m good to go.” You reassured her with a smile as you applied glaze to some pastries.

“Don’t you know the Vice- president of the Host Club, senpai?” Your other club member asked while she applied garnishes to a tea cake.

Your other underclassman squeezed her piping bag in surprise.

“You know Kyoya- senpai? Lucky! He’s so handsome!” Her swooning made you chuckle.

“We’re childhood friends. And if you want to get to know him just go to the host club.” Your giggles filled the room.

Even though you said you knew Kyoya, you sometimes doubted yourself. He had changed so much since childhood. His new cool attitude and intimidating stares had not been a part of him when you used to make mud cakes together in your garden. Your friendship began to dwindle after you were sent to an esteemed French academy for your middle school years. This was where you discovered your love of baking. However, upon returning home and starting your high school career at Ouran, you were able to rekindle your friendship with Kyoya. Despite not seeing you for quite a while he caught your gaze in the hallways and you shared small chats here and there. This would probably be one of the only opportunities for you to properly talk to him until the holidays when his family had a party. And that was if things went as planned.

You and your club members loaded up your large silver cart with your delicious goods.

“Well, ladies. I’m off.” You carefully pushed the cart out of the room, careful not to run into the doorframe.

“Let us know how it goes tomorrow Senpai!” One of your club members waved you off as the other held open the door for you.

You sighed in an effort to relax yourself. Your chest was tight at the thought of displaying your treats in front of the critical eyes of the host club.

Your nerves were hushed as you focused on locating Music Room 3. Eventually you found the correct room and carefully opened the door.

After only opening the door halfway, a majestic gust blew them open entirely. A shimmering wind full of flower petals blew around you. A twirling figure emerged in front of you with an outstretched hand.

“Madam! Allow me to welcome you to the Ouran High School Host Club!” Your eyes met with charismatic violet ones.

“Tamaki, this is the president of the Culinary and Baking Club. She’s here to offer us some samples of baked goods.” Kyoya stood behind the charming boy with a smug smirk.

“Oh..” Tamaki’s face fell for a moment. “Why didn’t you say so earlier! Come to the back I’ll introduce you to the others.” He marched on ahead towards the back of the spacious club room.

You reached for your cart, but found that Kyoya’s hands were already on the handle. He had his clipboard pinned under his arm.

“Seeing that we’re in the host club, I cannot allow a young lady to push her own cart.” He knew you well enough to know you would respond with protest. He smiled as he continued. “But if you insist on helping, you may take my clipboard.” His confident smile remained as you took the clipboard from his outstretched hand. You could catch glimpses of his perfect uniform script. He always had such beautiful handwriting.

While making your way across the gigantic room, you felt the stares of the few girls who lounged around. They would pause their conversations with those red headed twins to give you a look up and down.

After crossing the sparkling floor, Kyoya held open a curtain for you. Behind it was a little makeshift break room, complete with a table, chairs, and a few other small appliances. Waiting at the table was Honey- senpai and Mori- senpai. Those two never left each others side.

“(Y/n)- chan!” Honey chirped while bouncing in his seat. “What goodies did you bring for us to try?” You smiled and began to take your items off one by one, placing them in front of the designated taste tester.

“(Y/n), while he’s tasting the sweets how about we talk numbers.” Kyoya motioned to a couch off to the side.

After a brief overview of what he had proposed on his clipboard, you signed his contract, ensuring you would bake goods for the Host Club for the next following year.

[uwua3]

i love your spoiled sakuya hcs and the juza hcs with the baker s/o, they were so adorable!! ♡ can i have hcs for masumi with an s/o who likes to bake too and they're trying to teach masumi how to bake by baking together?

ah, thank you so much!!! your support means the world to me, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my work TT you’re even more adorable!!! for someone who knows nothing about baking, i love sweets too much so i cannot wait to do this prompt :D i hope to make you happy with this ♡

summary: for someone who didn’t eat sweets, masumi sure ate a lot of your baking

author’s note: i loved writing this despite my lack of baking experience TT please enjoy a tsundere! masumi and a reader who is doing their best :D thank you for reading~

word count: 4,121

music: if i could ride a bike – park bird, chevy, the girl i have a crush on – frad

all you need is love... and cookies!

🌸💌 usui masumi

ever since you could remember, you’ve always aspired to be a baker

you were the kid who walked by bakeries and had to push your face against the glass at the sight of pastries. you were definitely the type to admire and double tap every post concerning cute creations just because it made you happy. you filled your mouth with so much sugar, your dentist definitely had to see you every year

so when you proudly shared to the boys you were pursuing baking, you purposely left out the fact you had begged the bakery staff to hire you despite having no experience

(you were really only hired due to your clear passion for anything sweet, but an opportunity was a chance to do even better!)

at first, your part–time shifts at the local veludo way bakery meant you always had extras to take home. but now, you had acquired the position of an amatuer apprentince who spent all their time after school perfecting their craft

professional, well–done masterpieces wrapped in pristine, elegant white boxes became sloppy, edible creations with just as much love, much to the confusion and disappointment of the dorms

so when it became apparent that you weren’t naturally blessed with the talent to be the best baker in the world, it ate away at you ever since you stared back at the collapsed cake across from you (it didn’t take long before you were back on register duty for the day)

you could tell none of the mankai boys truly enjoyed your food when they couldn’t even force themselves to finish it (not even juza)

this meant you had practically taken over the limited space the kitchen offered to practice even more, focusing on exact measurements and mixtures just to mess up every single time

you were this close to giving up and binging bake–offs on tv to feel even more insecure of your abilities before you noticed something out of the ordinary this time

crouching down to look at the open fridge, you smiled despite the flour staining your apron and sugar you accidentally wiped across your forehead

the cupcake you made yesterday... that was nearly toppled over with uneven amounts of icing, perhaps your worst invention yet, was gone

did this mean... someone ate it?

you were about to close the door, before you noticed there was a note left instead in the place of the missing dessert

“you did a good job. don’t give up.”

your heart swelled with pride once you realized someone in the dorms genuinely believed in your skill. you squealed and performed a celebration dance in the middle of the kitchen, jumping up and down from the praise

you picked your head up and fixed the baker’s hat that was about to fall off, before turning the paper around and noticing something scrawled on the back

“you can’t substitute butter for cream cheese, you know.”

you blinked before reading it again, feeling a light bulb above your head. attempting the recipe you just failed with a new sense of determination, you realized you did mix up the yellow ingredients

oh... whoops!

(you were so involved and dedicated to your work that you didn’t notice a black–haired boy lean against the door frame for a second with a slight smile before leaving)

from then on, you didn’t give up, just like the note told you to!

every time you made a new product, you expected it to be gone the next time you took a break from the kitchen. you began enjoying the process more than anything, following recipes exactly with few, minimal errors

it helped every time the person who finished eating your dessert left truthful, straightforward reviews on the back of their praise! somehow, they always knew what went wrong and genuinely assisted you in trying again and again

your effort paid off! slowly but surely, you were able to make your favorites presentable, tasty, and worthy of sharing with others! the better you got, the more optimistic your attitude became—you could do this, you got this!

quitting was a thing of the past now, how could you give up when you’ve come this far? you knew you couldn’t have done it without that one fateful note from your first customer

the mankai dorm noticed your renewed energy at your passion and slowly reaped the benefits. you would put aside one of every creation of yours for the mystery critic, but offered the rest to the boys as a way to thank them for their continous support (even if it wasn’t through eating in the beginning)

yet, as you took the trey of muffins from the oven early in the morning to prepare quick breakfast for the actors, you frowned at the thought of one boy: masumi

no matter how many times you tried, masumi wouldn’t eat your food. it didn’t matter if you wrote his name on it with icing or specifically made a treat based on his favorite flavor, he wouldn’t take it. he’d barely glance at you with a resounding “no” in front of everyone before slipping his headphones back on

it was truly an awkward sight to behold. a quiet, seemingly annoyed teenage boy coming home late from a long day of school and an discouraged part–time baker still in their academy uniform and apron, holding a platter of something good, mind you!

as you individually wrapped each muffin and wrote each person’s name on a sticky note before moving on to pack boxed lunches for the high school students (yourself included), you hesitated on masumi’s before deciding to take that one and leave it for your secret food reviewer

if he wasn’t going to enjoy it, at least someone would

as everyone began waking up, you let out a sigh of relief after laying out all the food you prepared the day of organized by name. all in a day of hard work and the endless compliments from the sleepy kids and appreciative adults made it all worth it

for some reason, as masumi walked inside the kitchen with his headphones already on, you unintentionally let out a disappointed sigh as he walked past your beautiful display. not even a look, did he not like you?

(you strangely felt disappointed from the thought of masumi not liking you, you wanted him to see you as a friend)

after having breakfast together, you left with the high school boys, animatedly discussing whatever homework you guys had (which taichi never finished as he begged for answers) and upcoming classes

on the way out, maybe if you weren’t challenged by banri to see who could sprint to the end of the street the fastest, you would’ve noticed how masumi lingered behind to grab a snack. he opened the refridgerator to take a specific one, just for him

the mankai boys liked meeting up with each other at the local park once the final bell rang just to update each other on how the day went on the way home, but you always had bakery duty right after, rushing out of the doors to wave goodbye to your friends

“thank you for the lunch!” they thanked you again gratefully, wishing you well as you two went your separate ways. masumi was always at the back of the crowd and avoided looking your direction, moving on without a single word

as masumi led the way to pick up muku and yuki, sakuya walked by his side with a curious glance towards his blazer jacket. without warning, sakuya reached out to brush something off his collar

“sorry, masumi–kun! you had... crumbs?” sakuya trailed off quietly, noticing how masumi’s face was slowly becoming red. anyone would’ve missed it, but not his own observant best friend

when sakuya connected the dots on why masumi didn’t eat lunch with him and banri, he simply just hummed a sound of acknowledgement before joining in on the lively conversation between the o high boys

masumi turned his music volume up without looking at anyone, not seeing sakuya’s quiet smile

masumi didn’t even like sweets that much, but he ate the muffin? sakuya thought before eventually getting distracted by tenma, who nudged him with a concerned look

it wasn’t him he should be worried about, what about masumi?! sakuya turned before doing a full 360 with wide eyes. he rapidly looked both ways before grabbing tenma’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed

“tenma! did you see where masumi went?”

“oh, he said he had class or something?”

“class? for what?”

you finally clocked out for your shift, hanging your apron back up on the wall of hooks as you placed your name tag back with your uniform. before you could leave, you heard someone call for you to come back

oh no... were you... in trouble?! you gulped, turning on your heel to come face to face with your boss, who’s expression remained strict and stoic as ever. this was it, you were going to get fired and goodbye culinary school—

“rookie, you did good,” your boss started and you felt like you were on a sugar rush. did renowned, highly experienced head baker of the whole establishment just compliment you? before you could pass out from the praise in front of everyone, he continued

“but not great.”

oh. you were about to collapse, but for a completely different reason now. of course you weren’t that good...

“but good enough for this.” he passed to you a flyer with a ticket before leaving, not bothering to check your reaction. he was always like that, a man of a few words, it reminded you of mas—

wait, teaching a baking class?

you paused, bringing the paper closer to your eyes as you skimmed the headline and details beneath the cute promotional doodles decorating the design

the community center was holding a local baking class this evening (taught by employees of your own bakery!). it seemed like it was aimed at every person in any possible demographic with the large, easy–to–read font for the elderly and childish drawings for the youth

you wondered why you hadn’t heard of it before, putting the ticket in front of you to see your name and your lucky number on the pass. how coincidental, maybe this was a sign you should go

you looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat in front of you. your boss suddenly seemed much less intimidating but more... fatherly? he ruffled your hair and attempted a smile (it looked more like a grimance, but you appreciated the effort)

“you love baking, right? have fun, get some training in.” you grinned and forced him into a hug. “thank you!” you responded, squeezing him tightly and ignoring how you were this close to being put on the early bird rotation

“get off me before i fire you.”

“yes, chef!”

when you put back on your baker’s apron and travelled with the rest of the staff to the community center to help set up, you were practically bouncing with uncontrollable energy in the back seat as you watched the evening lights turn on throughout the town

this was a sign! you had improved so much, you got promoted to teaching a community baking class because you’ve made it that far! nothing could ruin this!

or, so you thought

when you perfectly laid out the set of ingredients and utensils ready for each station, you glanced at the list at your side to see who your partner would be

as you read down the columns, you were internally hoping maybe for a sweet, wise grandmother who carried candy in her vintage purse. or, even an enthusiastic, blabbering child whose parents watched on from the side with maternal pride and love. anyone, really!

you hummed to the tune of some family friendly music from the radio, the bright yellow lights illuminating the makeshift kitchen as you somehow ignored the team’s volleyball practice happening upstairs

you followed your finger on the paper, landing on your name with a smile. yet, the look on your face completely disappeared as you double–checked to make sure it was yours

the name besides yours was blank? while others signed their full names, your partner either didn’t exist or had no alias to go by

“chef?” you asked your boss, causing him to look up from the front of the room with a blank expression. right... he was still your scary head pastry chef that definitely had multiple chances to fire you at this point

“um... how come the name for my station is blank?” you nervously questioned from his soulless stare before he rubbed his forehead with a sigh, as if burdened to actually think this time. then, he snapped his fingers together so suddenly you were startled

“there’s a kid who’s been going here for a while now, but he never tells us his name. you got him tonight.”

wow, that was the most the boss ever spoke to you, or in general

“do i make myself clear, rook?”

“yes, chef!”

you didn’t dare question him any further, just obediently wiped down your glistening metal table and avoided his harsh hawk eyes at any time possible

when the clock hit 8pm, you giddily tried your best not to hop up and down as you watched people stream into the kitchen. most were regulars, you noticed as the team happily greeted their typical partners

luckily, the list of attendees had increased so you were now a certified local teacher to the public. you tried to look the part and not smile too wide, hiding your obvious excitement at the new role. you glanced around with an eager look, trying to locate the kid your boss referred to earlier

“are you looking for your partner?” your co–worker randomly asked, walking up to you out of no where. you blinked multiple times, trying to see if they were talking to you before confirming they were, smiling nervously from the rare interaction

“yeah, i’m really excited!” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck as you kept your eyes on the door. your co–worker nodded, waiting for their guest as well as they leaned against the wall, crossing their arms casually

“you should be. he’s a real natural at all this, you know, despite doing it for such a short time.” they commented, not saying any more once they waved to their partner coming in. you turned towards their retreating figure, about to ask for more information before you felt someone move next to you, their eyes trained on your back intensely

right, nothing could ruin this for you, not even—

your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the whole mixing bowl you had been playing with

—masumi

masumi blinked, before spinning around to quickly try to make his way out of the room. you didn’t think before you acted, impulsively latching onto his black jacket sleeve and wincing at his sneakers skid to a stop on the floor

“listen, i know you don’t like me, but—” you mumbled, feeling less confident by the second the more he stared at you over his shoulder. it was the first time he had his headphones off for more than a minute around you, you didn’t know what to say to someone you barely knew

“you think i don’t like you?” masumi spoke for once, his deep voice shocking you but his words were an even bigger surprise. you were about to respond before the head chef began class, your boss ordering everyone to get ready or be left behind

(a few lighthearted chuckles travelled throughout the room but you shuddered internally, knowing boss wasn’t joking)

masumi seemed to debate between leaving and embarrassing you completely in front of your staff or staying to endure a painful, awkward two hours with you before he sighed, putting on his own apron without looking at you once

you didn’t have anything to say, maintaining the large distance between you two with a frown

maybe one thing, or person, could ruin this for you... how did he end up being your partner?!

as head chef went around to introduce the recipe for tonight, you didn’t know what to do. you had never talked to masumi one on one, he usually hung back with sakuya or trailed after izumi seeking validation. what could you say to someone who supposedly didn’t care for you at all?

when chef let the groups start, you picked up the cookie recipe and thanked whoever was listening it was something you could make in your sleep. you were about to start before masumi peered over your shoulder, trying to read with you

right, you had to work together with masumi or else you’d be the worst teacher ever

you slid the paper to the middle of the table, reading the first step out loud and masumi was already on it, moving to preheat the oven to 375 degrees without hesitation

you stopped, looking at him with slight shock once again. he was strangely good at taking orders without questioning a thing, you thought he would’ve given you at least some attitude

(maybe, he wasn’t as mean as you thought he was)

he returned, flicking the highlighted black hair out of his face with an unreadable look to his eyes. he waved his hand in front of your face, breaking your haze as you blushed from getting caught staring

“what’s next?” masumi bluntly asked, and you were quick to focus again and immediately went into your professional mode, missing the way masumi admired your dedication before pretending he was getting busy

without wasting time, masumi was whisking white flour, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl while you were consistently swirling a cup of butter over a saucepan, both of you working oddly well together without much words needing to be exchanged

huh... maybe he wasn’t all that bad. of course masumi was a good baker, what wasn’t he great at?

yet, you didn’t think he liked it. he didn’t eat too much sugar to begin with, what made him want to learn how to bake in the first place?

“i haven’t seen you teach here before.” masumi said, trying to start the conversation. you did a double take, wondering if he was serious or just plain condescending before you shrugged, keeping your eyes on the butter

“chef wanted me here for the first time tonight.” you awkwardly responded, feeling the tense silence in the air even as other stations around you loudly chatted with one another. masumi nodded, seemingly paying attention even as he whisked with precision you wished you had

“must mean you’ve become a good baker.” masumi replied and you couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the note you were going to come home to in the fridge

“hopefully.” you simply said, trying not to sound bitter as you didn’t let the rest of your sentence leave your mouth. you wanted to ask how masumi would know that if he hadn’t even tried any of your pastries, but you didn’t want to start anything

when the butter browned, you moved it to a heatproof bowl and continued the process, cutting up small blocks of butter again to add it to the brown butter

masumi looked over your shoulder again with a hum of approval (you deny ever feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest) before going back to his task, mumbling something that made you freeze in your steps

“looks like you didn’t mix up the butter and cream cheese this time.”

your breath hitched as you gripped the bowl, eyes wide as your thoughts ran a mile a minute. masumi picked up on your stillness, turning to ask if you were okay before you whipped around to look him in the eyes

“what?” you breathed out as masumi looked any where but you. before you could continue to interrogate him, you felt a looming presence behind you with a familiar bark

“rook! get back to work or go home!”

you and masumi quickly got back to your positions, already scared by your chef’s loud booming voice as you two did your jobs with fear as your motivation

“yes, chef!” you called out, masumi following your example as you two followed the recipe perfectly, even as you snuck in a glance at him every time you thought he wouldn’t notice

when you pushed the parchment–lined baking sheet into the oven and closed it gently, you took a moment to breathe in and out, trying to process the exposed truth that was between you two now

you couldn’t believe it: masumi was your first “customer” ever. he was the one who encouraged you to keep baking with genuine praise and heartfelt comments about what you did right. he helped you improve with useful criticism on things you did wrong and furthered your growth as a baker. without having him, you wouldn’t even be here

but you couldn’t help but think, why?

why did he want to help you? you thought he didn’t actually like you... did he want to be, your friend?

(maybe, even more?)

you jumped up and nearly hit your head on the oven bar, making masumi hurry to your side with a slightly startled expression. you were about to apologize before he laid his hand against your head, unintentionally coming closer, concerned about why your face was so red

you barely managed to get out the excuse about the heat from the oven, but you knew he doubted it as he slowly nodded and stepped back. you followed him back to your table to clean up, but you couldn’t keep it together with the rapid beat of your heart and permanent blush on your cheeks

did... did you like masumi?

was that why you were so disheartened every time you offered sweets and he didn’t take any? is that why you always made an effort to be friends with the mysterious student before eventually giving up when he didn’t respond? oh my god, did you always like him this way?

you turned to look at him again but this time, he was already staring at you. you were about to run and hide forever from the embarrassment before your co–worker from before showed up, recognizing masumi and greeting him like they were best friends

“i see you’ve met the kid. he looks mean but once you get to know him—” they reached up to knock their fist against masumi’s head fondly, ignoring the way masumi grumbled dramatically about his hair, “he’s a real sweetheart.”

you forced an awkward laugh before going back to cleaning, noticing how your co–worker kept going on, missing the way you were acutely eavesdropping on the conversation

“you impress that person, yet?” they joked, to which masumi silently glared at them to shut up. they didn’t whatsoever

“come on, you’ve had to at this point! what kind of guy takes baking classes just to help their crush?”

beep! the oven sounded, causing you to rush over to escape the discussion. it was all coming together and it didn’t take long before you connected the dots on what’s been happening the past few months

when you came back with your glove mitts on, you placed the trey down and let the cookies cool down, standing side by side to admire you and masumi’s creation

as masumi opened his mouth to compliment the work, like he always did, you beat him to it

“... you like me.” you dropped out of no where. cue the silence, again. it was like this whole bonding exercise didn’t even happen, you could feel masumi about to tug on his headphones. yet, you kept talking and saying all the things you’ve always wanted to tell him

“you ate my food every day, even if you don’t like desserts that much, because you like me.”

quiet, again. he wasn’t saying no, he couldn’t say you were wrong because you were right

“you took baking classes to help me, because you like me.”

you wanted to be more than friends with masumi, you knew that now, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he still felt the same way

you got your answer when masumi picked up a cookie and split it into two evenly, offering the other half to you with a flustered appearance, like this was his confession

you took the cookie and knew, this was the start of something sweet

(“hey, finish cleaning already, rookie! i don’t pay you to be in love with your boyfriend!”)

(“yes, chef!”)

you received the first note with masumi’s name written at the end

“we should bake together again.”

[peach-jaehyunie]

The Descent

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x OC, (minor) Johnny Suh x OC x OC, (former) Kim Taehyung x OC

Rating: 18+

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, implied drug use

Pt. I

Words 4,263

Genre: Fantasy, Fallen Angel AU, slow burn

Synopsis: Vada spends her days working in a restaurant, letting all the desires of her true nature remain mostly unfulfilled. Where passion had once been in her life she is left with only half memories—secrets of her past that haunt her heart. A man with blue hair catches her attention he and his friend begin to ignite the feelings within her that have long been dormant.

You had known a man like that as a sophomore in college. He had been your dorm roommate’s boyfriend, and he had radiated an unfamiliar energy. He was ethereal and his aura pulled you in. One time you asked how he got the two scars on his back “I had my wings ripped off,” he joked. He was gorgeous, but one day he was just gone and your roommate curled up in her tiny bed to weep over everything Kim Taehyung had taken and given.

He had made you look twice when you had first seen him a month ago. He rode a bicycle and his blue hair ruffled in the wind, you couldn’t help but look at him—the ethereal beauty you had seen before in someone else. It had become routine to see him as you walked to work: he would fly past, his shirt billowing, sometimes followed by a hooded figure with downcast eyes on a longboard. Eventually, his eyes would catch yours as he passed: they were deep brown and calming, there was always a twinkle of hope to be seen in them for a fleeting moment as he sped by. You noticed days you didn’t see him, they felt slightly emptier and work would be lacklustre.

“Vada?” You snapped to attention as your coworker said your name,

“Yeah, sorry, what did you say?” You quickly replied as you went back to whisking a pastry cream twice as hard.

“Katerina needs to know what to put on the menu for the desserts this week.”

“Oh, um,” Devo had caught you at a bad time as you were daydreaming about a blue haired stranger. “I made a white cake filled with almond pastry cream between the layers and an Italian meringue icing; I have blood orange panna cotta setting right now, which will be served with a blueberry sauce...oh! I’m making trifle with the leftover cupcakes, and I’m going to make a chocolate cherry mousse and serve it in martini glasses.” You noticed that Devo didn’t write any of this down and braced yourself for when Katerina would inevitably come and nitpick your work. You furiously whisked in the eggs yolks and were relieved that the cream remained perfectly smooth as it took on a yellow hue. You felt as though you could probably whip up a triple batch of pastry cream in your sleep, so thinking about the two men that chose a bicycle and a longboard as their methods of transport in a hilly city like San Francisco kept your brain busy.

A handsome man caught your eye for a second as you walked home with your bag of groceries. His eyes met your gaze and you felt unable to turn away. A chill came over you and you felt that his eyes were enough to suffocate you in the crowded sidewalk, every step drew each of you closer together. You fought back a grimace as the street narrowed and the mass of people were forced closer together. You were able to force your gaze from him, but the stranger’s arm bumped into your shoulder as he walked past. The hair on your neck prickled, your stomach felt like ice; he felt wrong. You couldn’t shake the feeling of repulsion even when you got home and set your TJ’s bag on the counter and began to unpack it.

“Hey, Vada,” your roommate greeted you without even looking at you as she breezes from the bathroom, through the tiny living room, and into her bedroom before shutting her door. You could hear two voices through the door; Brian must have been over and now they were getting ready for a night out. You considered an evening spent at home alone: you weren’t much of a Netflix watcher, and a string of bad first dates had left you in a dry patch romantically. You couldn’t go out with Ana and Brian, because you had fucked Brian first and now it felt awkward because he wasn’t quite your sloppy seconds; he just mostly was.

You ate the dinner you had brought home in a to-go container from work; it was delicious and the flavours were balanced, an array of textures should have been enough to excite your palate, but tonight it felt as tantalizing as eating cardboard. You picked up a book; any attempts to read it failed as you continuously got up to scour the cupboards and fridge for anything attractive. You spent the evening fidgety and almost...hungry. It was an odd sensation, a mix of physical hunger; for food, excitement, sex—anything to pull you from the mundane— and an even deeper hunger: a yearning. You thought of the blue-haired man on the bicycle, a warm and pleasant feeling filled you. It was the exact opposite sensation that you had felt from the other stranger while walking home. A streetcar outside the window clanged and you rolled over in bed, irritated by its sound.

The next day the blue-haired man was not to be seen on the way to work. A somewhat familiar feeling of unfulfillment took hold of you upon reaching your apartment at the end of the day. While you got ready to out to a bar with Devo you remembered someone else filling you with that feeling before: warmth, hunger, and insatiability that you couldn’t describe. You flinched like a wounded animal when you recalled the sharp grip of guilt that had clawed at you in punishment for giving in to such base desires.

“Here, you look like you could use it,” Devo said, sliding you his Manhattan as he ordered another.

“A Manhattan?” You looked at him skeptically.

“Sophisticated; like me,” he immediately quipped “No, but seriously, what happened in the two hours since I last saw you?”

“I guess I’m just kinda bored and very lonely.” You take a sip of your drink, already regretting the lasting taste the alcohol leaves on your tongue and the cloying aroma it will leave on your skin.

“What about your roommate?”

“She’s out with Brian,” you weren’t jealous, or at least not of the Brian factor, but no one would have possibly known that from the way you gulped down the rest of your drink.

“The one you fucked first?” Asked Devo.

“Yes,” you replied with a laugh in his direction, “The one I fucked-first. I’m very generous that way, you know, bringing people together like that.”

You and Devo’s friend, Adrian (boyfriend, but Devo’s parents don’t approve and, no, he doesn’t want to talk about it) must nearly carry poor, drowsy Devo back to his little bachelor apartment. It’s tidy but dark; there’s enough room for two men in love as long as lavish amenities like oxygen aren’t that important to you. The only pieces of furniture are a bed, two bean-bag chairs in front of a TV sat on the floor and a table in the kitchen area that’s used as an extra counter when Devo is experimenting with a new culinary delight at home.

“Vada, let me walk you home,” Adrian tells you right after you two have put Devo in his bed.

“Sure, thanks,” you tell him. You like Adrian, but he proves to be a slow walker and a fast talker on the way home. He asks you what Devo is like at work—Devo is the first guy he’s gone out with since moving to San Francisco from Ohio.

“What brought you out here?” He’s young and curious: Devo is the mutual friend, but no one talks about your past because the parts you make public are boring and you keep all the gritty and smutty stories to yourself.

“UC Berkeley,” you sighed, but not audibly. “My dream school; I dropped out Junior year, first semester.”

“Shit, didn’t like it?”

“Nah, it’s a great school, it just wasn’t what I wanted at the time.”

“What did you do after that, I mean before working as a pastry chef?” Damn, could he walk any slower.

“Just kinda bummed it on what I had leftover from student loans,” Liar. Someone had gotten you a lucrative job as a stripper in a club off of Broadway. You thanked Adrian and quickly left him out on the street as you hurried up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. There wasn’t a sound from Ana’s room, but empty takeout containers sat on the counter illuminated in the dark kitchen by a strand of lights that hung above the sofa. Your mouth felt dry as your senses were suddenly overcome with the bass of loud club music and a hint of chemical cleaner to cover up the odour of spilled alcohol. Your skin felt sticky with sweat and your hands felt grimy from money—but when you opened your eyes it was just a little two-bedroom apartment in a house with a blue facade staring back at you. It was not special, it was not grand; there were fairy lights strung up and a half-dead cactus (too much water) in the corner. You could close your eyes and remember a room for special guests who wanted a private show...after they inhaled from a blue balloon they were too out of it to do anything more to than slip a hundred into your g-string.

That night you had a dream (or maybe it was a nightmare, but it wasn’t all bad) that you were back in your Berkeley dorm. You laid in the bed and felt warm and full, it felt like happiness but there was a dusting of excitement: a *secret*—which is sometimes just a cute word for a lie. Your limbs felt tangled and you could hear yourself whispering, which was strange because you felt that you were alone until Ally came in and saw you on your little bed and started crying as she shouted and threw items from her side of the room at you. She didn’t want your apologies—were they yours? The dream began to feel claustrophobic; Ally wouldn’t talk, only cry and push away any comforting hands and you could feel yourself standing there...were you apologizing? watching? All you knew was that guilt was suffocating you.

You felt him before you saw him. For the first time, you were aware that you weren’t the only one who looked at him as he passed by on his bicycle. His gaze was as welcoming as a lover’s kiss and his eyes still felt hopeful and warm. You thought (foolishly? hopefully?) that he only looked at you.

You saw him again the next morning and you brazenly returned his gaze: his eyes were like a deer’s, you wanted to spend hours staring into them because they felt safe, welcoming, nonjudgemental. His sharp jawline made your mouth water, but the small smile that broke from his beautiful lips made you feel warm and happy.

Devo came to where you worked in the kitchen to complain about the new line cook.

“Does he ‘Yes, Chef!’ too much for your liking?” You ask him with a straight face.

“No—“

“Oof, he reeks of Axe—“

“No,—“

“Does he have mutton chops like the last guy? Those were gross.” Devo often came to you to complain about the new staff. You enjoyed listing off his complaints about coworkers more than you would like to admit.

“This dude just...creeps me out. Like, he seems nice and everything, but fuck, this sounds ridiculous, I just get this really bad vibe from him, you know? It’s like bad...energy.” You stifled your laugh because Devo was so earnest.

“Well, I feel like I have to meet him now.” You say wiping sticky sugar from your hands and setting a timer on your phone.

“He’s nice! He just makes my skin crawl,” Devo nodded and laughed as he said this before heading back to his prep station.

“Behind, oven door!” You said loudly as you stepped onto the line to put a sheet of rolls on the oven.

“Oh, hey, Vada?” The chef addressed you,

“Yes, chef?”

“This is our new line cook, Johnny.”

The tall cook turned to you and despite having not seen his face before today you knew, you felt that he was the man on the longboard.

“Hey,” Johnny gave a small wave “Vada...I like that name, have I seen you somewhere before? You look really familiar.” He looked at your face intently for a moment before you spoke.

“Um, no I don’t think so. I haven’t worked at many restaurants before.” Being under his gaze felt like a microscope, but...it wasn’t a bad feeling. He shook his head as if to get rid of a thought.

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Vada.” Johnny offered his hand for you to shake. There was a strange and sudden internal pull when you grasped his hand and he must have felt it too by the way he smirked at you.

You couldn’t be sure that he was the longboard guy; when Johnny left work he left on foot to catch a tram. He was talkative and easygoing, behind his outgoing demeanour there seemed to lurk a sedate and tormented individual. You could only see it sometimes: it was there behind his eyes as he worked, sometimes it was written on his face for just a second before the jovial mask would return. Devo avoided him as best he could and Johnny (strangely) didn’t seem at all offended, regardless of how obvious Devo was.

“Drinks and staff night out at Gus’s tonight!” Katerina yelled into the kitchen as closing started. You quickly cleaned up your work station and grabbed a bucket of cutlery for polishing to help the servers get out faster. An hour later the group of you were turning out the lights and locking up, stuffing the split tips into a safe place to be spent later on. Gus’s Bar was a short walk and extremely casual and therefore suitable for a bunch of sweaty kitchen workers.

“First round is on me,” Katerina stated as she sat down at the bar and the old barkeep slowly approached while he was polishing a glass. He nodded and remained quiet as everyone placed their orders, never writing anything down, and began to make drinks more efficiently than you had ever seen in your life. The barkeep (possibly Gus) soon had a row of drinks up for all of you. As soon as Johnny downed his first in one go he exclaimed with a mischievous glint in his eye:

“Third round is on me!” He winked at you as you realized what that meant because no one had offered to buy a second round.

“I guess I’ll buy round two,” said one of the waitresses with a chuckle, her long, blonde waves shaking as she laughed. You felt pleasantly buzzed after round three, not really needing a lot more but also not anywhere near turning down an offer for another one. You ordered a whiskey sour—neat; this one you were paying for. You sat between Miles and Johnny at the bar: Miles was laughing at everything anyone said but paying you no mind because you just wanted to sit there and enjoy the feeling.

“I know where I know you from now,” Johnny spoke resting his arms on the bar comfortably.

“Oh yeah, where?” You grinned at him, unfazed.

“The Velvet Angel,” he said it loud enough that you knew you could only hear him, but you still felt that your heart stopped for a few moments. His eyes stayed on your face, but your thoughts raced and your mouth felt dry when you realized what this meant.

“How did you—“ you began licking your lips

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—it’s our secret.” He assures you upon noticing your hands shake as you tried to bring the whiskey sour to your mouth. You looked at him, blushing at how kind and welcoming his gaze seemed despite the fact you felt nearly like drowning. You wanted to run away...but you couldn’t, not from Johnny. Everything seemed foggy, but you finished your drink and ordered another. Adrian came and you felt the brush of his hand on your back as he said ‘hello’ and you thought you must have said something back but you couldn’t remember. Miles fell asleep with his head on the bar as Johnny comfortably nursed a beer on your other side. Strangers came and went, and one by one your coworkers left until it was just the three of you—two if you considering that Miles was passed out.

“Do you know where he lives?” Johnny asked you as he finally finished his beer.

“No,” you had to clear your voice as it cracked from disuse. Why weren’t you more shattered, why did this not feel so bad to have Johnny know of your past life.

“I have someone in my couch at my place, can Miles crash at your place?” You wanted to ask Johnny if it was the blue haired man of your fantasies that was on his couch. That thought felt silly and hopeful, especially because you were nearly just operating off of a hunch.

“Yeah, I don’t think my roommate will mind. Wait—“ You grabbed Johnny’s arm as he moved to get up and, you thought, leave. “—I don’t think I can move him by myself,”

Johnny chuckled at your panic, and you felt your face heat up even more than just from the alcohol.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get him home for you; I won’t leave you.” He said as he gently patted your shoulder. Johnny went to help Miles up, but the young man turned out to be drunker than expected and your jaw dropped as Johnny picked up Miles easily and began to carry him out.

“Are you okay to carry him by yourself? That’s not what I meant when I said I couldn’t; I can help if you want!” You called after him, nearly tripping out of your barstool and trotting to catch up with his long strides.

“No, I’m fine, he’s light. Just walk us in the right direction.”

It’s quite a few minutes before you pluck up the courage to say anything to Johnny about The Velvet Angel. You choose your words carefully, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like the type of person that would have frequented The Velvet Angel.” You finally say.

“A man?” Johnny joked after a moment. His breathing wasn’t laboured even though he was carrying another person up a hill.

“No, I mean, like that place had other stuff going on.” You began to feel uncomfortable, maybe you had completely misread him.

“Oh...you mean the private rooms and the balloons...well, I try to avoid that a bit now, but I haven’t always.” His voice was soft and low, you turned to look back at him and there was that sad tortured look again. You regretted saying anything.

“I think I deserve some credit for remembering your face, though.” Johnny suddenly quipped with a shy smile.

“Yes, that was very gentlemanly of you,” you replied sarcastically.

“It was the expression you wore on your face,” he began after a pause, “Some of the women...you could really tell that you were just paying to see their body, and some liked to play as if they were teasing you, but you—your face was that of a lover.”

“A lover?” You dubiously queried.

“It’s… You looked like someone in love, your eyes invited an intimacy if you looked closely enough. You didn’t look fake or cheap, it was all art and the beauty of love in your face.”

Your mouth felt dry, and your walking slowed down as Johnny spoke. Love, what did that even feel like? Did you remember, had you ever known it? There was a void where memories of feelings like that should be stored. All you could remember was guilt...disgust, remorse, and guilt. You had slowed to a stop without realizing it.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, worried as he stopped by your side. You looked at him, unable to form a complete thought until the building behind Johnny took shape in the dark.

“This is my house.” You finally manage as you lick your lips and think to take keys from your bag. You unlock the main front door and hold it open as Johnny walks in carrying Miles.

“I live on the second floor, I’m so sorry,” You grimace thinking of him having to carry another man up the stairs.

“I said not to worry about it, Miles is light.” And he easily carries him to your apartment where Miles is laid on your sofa with a pillow from your bed and a spare blanket.

“Thank you so much, I hope you don’t have too far to go.” You tell Johnny as he walks toward your door to leave.

“Nah, it’s fine. It would be faster if I had my longboard, but I can catch a bus.” He shrugged.

“You have a longboard?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound too curious.

“Yes,” he turned to you and chuckled a little “But you already knew that.” He couldn’t see your blush in the dark. How could he have known that you suspected him?

“Vada,”

“Mhm,”

“If you ever want to meet Taeyong...all you gotta do is ask.” In the hallway, a streetlamp illuminated his face enough for you to see his grin and wink in your direction before turning around and trotting down the steps and out.

———————————————————-

The blue haired man is absent for the rest of the week, but on Saturday night you follow Johnny out the back door to shout after him:

“I want to meet him; I want to meet Taeyong.” Johnny sets his longboard down and pulls his phone out to check it before he answers you.

“Okay,” he looks at you with a slow grin, “I’ll find out when he’s free. Now get back to work, I gotta hot date I have to meet.” He winks at you as he gets on and rides off.

You feel giddy—butterflies like a schoolgirl when you get back inside the restaurant. You have trouble sleeping that night: trying to figure out every possible scenario as to how Johnny knew about your hunch; all the ways you could meet Taeyong, and imagining a first date in which you were overflowing with wit, intelligence, and good things to say; and also a terrible dread and anxiety that Taeyong was just some random person and not the man with the blue hair.

Your eyes are bleary the next day, the cookbook in front of you seems to keep going out of focus.

“Fucking shit!” You curse as you burn your hand on a cake pan, a silent stream of fucks threatened to be uttered by your tongue as you cup your tender wound. Disheartened, you peer into a mixing bowl of clumpy custard. It will need to be strained. Nothing is going right and you feel frazzled. You check the fruit purée in the freezer to see if they have set in their molds yet—they haven’t. You go up to the main kitchen and pour yourself a coffee with extra cream, avoiding the warmth of the mug with your burnt hand. It’s not a glamorous place to enjoy a coffee or a five-minute break, but the sun lights up the alley and even the dumpster doesn’t look too bad in this lighting.

He hops lightly off his bike as he reaches the alley corner, his frown is matched by your own. The hood of his sweater is up but it doesn’t stop the blue fringe from peaking out. He walks straight up to you with his bike, his frown softens and his eyes look like two inviting pools of melted chocolate.

“Is Johnny here?” He asks after a moment of you staring at him. You nearly choke as you try to speak and swallow your spit at the same time—

“Um, no he hasn’t come into work yet.” You finally manage after clearing your throat. The beautiful man’s frown returns and he almost seems to scowl at the back of the restaurant.

“He was off early last night, and said he was meeting up with a hot date.” You added, it felt rude but you were really unable to take your eyes off of him.

He looked back at you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His expression was safe and inviting and you suddenly felt less bad for having been staring at him.

“He didn’t come home after his date, and I can’t reach him on his phone; so I thought I’d check here just in case.” His grip on the bike loosened and tightened. Finally, he shyly averted his eyes for a second before offering you his hand to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you; I’m Taeyong.” His eyes confidently search yours out when he says his name.

“I know—“ you want to slap yourself as the words fall from your lips, but your hand meets his and you feel a warm and familiar pull in your very core. “I mean, my name is Vada.” You blush as you stumble over the words.

“I know,” and a soft blush breaks out over his smooth cheeks, his grip on your hand never loosening.

[antiquecompass]

Ficlet: Chains of Love

Forgot to post this over here, but a tiny LAHL Xicheng Valentine’s Day Ficlet, featuring siblings, paper chains, and other chains.

In many ways having his brother living in his ridiculous historical mansion not even thirty minutes away made Jiang Cheng’s life easier. In other ways it made it an absolute goddamned burden. Like now, when his brother decided to waltz into the Jiang Industries Pittsfield Location, right into Jiang Cheng’s office, to find him doing his best to be a supportive partner and help construct the ridiculous amounts of red, white, and pink paper chains for all the Lan Academy elementary school Valentine Day parties.

Jiang Cheng didn’t even have a chance to duck and hide as Wei Ying quickly snapped an entire series of photos.

“I’m sending these to everyone I know,” Wei Ying said.

“Get the fuck out of my building,” Jiang Cheng said, throwing one of his many glue sticks at his brother’s head.

“How in the hell did Xichen,” he picked up one of the finished chains, “rope you into this one? Chain you into Arts and Crafts hell? Ensnare you into--”

“You can stop at any time,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Fair,” Wei Ying agreed. “Still--how?”

“Have you seen his disappointed face?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Wei Ying shuddered. “Enough said.” He sat down, dropping a paper bag with a large grease stain in the middle of the table. “I brought you curly fries because I was writing about a character eating curly fries, and then I needed some for myself, and then I thought of you, sitting here in Pittsfield, probably trying to eat all that damn trail mix--”

“The trail mix is good.”

“And I simply had to save you,” Wei Ying said. He took a stack of the pre-cut strips and a glue stick and started working. “Isn’t this something the PTA is supposed to do? Parent volunteers?”

Jiang Cheng sighed. “You know most of the kids at Lan Academy are boarders, right? Very few of them, unless they are Lans, are day school students.”

Wei Ying made a face. “Sucks,” he said. “They’re little kids.”

“Which is why the teachers, volunteers, and older students help, but with the increased attendance numbers, they needed even more help this year.”

“They’re going to need a new building soon. I can’t imagine the Lans want classroom trailers on their properties.”

Jiang Cheng did not say a damn word.

“Oh, what the fuck did you do?” Wei Ying asked.

“It’s a charitable donation,” Jiang Cheng said.

“You bought Xichen a friggin’ building?”

“Donated,” Jiang Cheng corrected.

“And I assume Jiang Industries will be doing the construction as well? At a discounted price? Who’s the architect? One of Xiao Xingchen’s brothers?”

Jiang Cheng tried to focus on getting the paper chains perfectly even.

“How’re those business ethics going for you?” Wei Ying asked.

Now that was a step too far. He glared at his brother. “This will be the sixteenth time Jiang Industries has donated a building and its workforce to a school. This is the first time it’s in the family, so to speak, and since no one seems bothered about my business ethics paying for their Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins, or Pats tickets, I don’t want to hear a single fucking word about helping put a much-needed building up at the school so personally connected to our family. And it’s my money that’s the bulk of the donation, not Jiang Industries, not the Jiang Foundation, mine.”

When Great-grandfather Yu passed, he left them all sizable inheritances, but Jiang Cheng had wound up with the bulk of it. The only instruction had been to use it to further good in the world. Jiang Cheng had been sitting on the majority of the money, letting it gain interest, since he was fourteen.

Xichen was determined to open up Lan Academy as much as possible to all students who could live-up to their academic standards. He was determined to do it, even if it meant the majority of the students would be scholarship kids. He was determined to make Lan Academy the premier school for the local kids and families, so they’d have a chance at a truly world-class education. He was determined, but the Academy simply didn’t have the facilities for such a swell in numbers, and if left to the board, a new building wouldn't be seen until Lan Sizhui was ready to retire as headmaster.

So, Jiang Cheng made a decision.

Wei Ying laughed. “Look who just won Boyfriend of the Century.” He threw a completed paper chain at Jiang Cheng’s head. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Xichen. Here’s the plan for a brand-new school building and the check to pay for it.”

“I wasn’t planning on bringing it up until the next Board Meeting when I can publicly hand over the donation and give them the proposal,” Jiang Cheng said.

“So, then what did you get him for Valentine’s Day?”

“A new set of his fancy water color paints and brushes,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was running out.”

He’d also adorned his person with a little surprise for Xichen that his brother was never, ever finding out about, but that wasn’t any of Wei Ying’s business anyway, nor was he saving it for Valentine's Day.

Wei Ying sighed. “How can you be so pragmatic and so romantic at the same time? You leave me in utter despair sometimes, little brother.”

“The feeling is absolutely mutual,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No flowers?”

“You know how he feels about plants that aren’t in pots and I can’t keep giving him orchids. We’re running out of room,” Jiang Cheng said. “Some of us don’t have our own greenhouses.

“Don’t be jealous. And technically Lan Xichen sort of owns the Lan Academy greenhouses,” Wei Ying said. “What about candy?” he asked.

“I already get him artisan fair-trade chocolate truffles or fudge once a week,” Jiang Cheng said. "Twice if it's a bad week."

Wei Ying sighed as he completed another paper chain. “And you both prefer dinner at home, so that’s out as well.”

“You’re the same as me,” Jiang Cheng said. “What are your plans outside of shuffling your kid off on Molly for the night?”

“Molly volunteered to host a sleepover,” Wei Ying corrected. He grinned as yet another paper chain joined the pile, a distracted Wei Ying always somehow a very productive Wei Ying. “And, yes, my plans are an empty house and a dinner at home. Do you really want to know more than that? Are some pointers needed? Some help? Some advice? Xichen did just turn forty.”

It was absolutely beneath Jiang Cheng, as the CEO of his company, as a grown-ass man himself, to start a slap-fight with his older brother, but he felt that it was completely warranted at that moment.

**********

Jiang Cheng always felt a little wary of Lan Academy at night. The beautiful architecture during the day took on a sinister turn in the dark, the angles of the floodlights and campus street lamps changing the welcoming walkways into paths that made you hurry along quickly, afraid of what could be hiding in the woods, or coming down from the mountains in the shadows of the night.

He should not be this freaked out carrying a tub full of construction paper chains and various others Valentine’s Day decor to an elementary school, but this part of the campus was the oldest part, and the shadows cast by the building’s spires were long.

“You going to stand there or are you going to come inside?”

Jiang Cheng had never been so happy to see Lan Jia in his life. The woman intimidated the hell out of him, had that same vague commanding authority as his mother, and was one of Lan Xichen’s closest family elders.

She was also a fencing expert and he had no doubt, if giving the inclination, she could knock him out cold with some fancy footwork and a foil.

“He give you the disappointed, ‘I believe the children are our future’ speech too?” Jia asked as the door banged shut behind them.

Jiang Cheng nodded. “And then the whole, ‘you know it’s not one of those holidays they can go home for’ bit too,” he said.

Lan Jia laughed. “I take it you’re going to be baking some cupcakes as well?”

There was an entire counter in their kitchen stuffed full with boxed cake mix and the kitchen table was already being assembled into a workstation. He’d be spending every night for the next week working on the damn batches, even though Lan Xichen had an entire culinary department at his disposal. He’d asked, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t say no, so this week he’d help decorate all the damn classrooms and then he’d start baking all the damn cupcakes and decorating them too, and having to ask his sister to ask his brother-in-law for his damn good strawberry cheese cream flavored frosting.

The things he did for the man he loved.

Lan Jia pointed down the hall. “He’s in the kindergarten classroom.”

“Of course he is,” Jiang Cheng said.

Lan Jia laughed as she gave him a little shove.

The kindergartners were the only true full day-students of Lan Academy. They didn’t accept any boarding students unless they were old enough for first grade, but that didn’t mean the youngest of Lan Academy’s student body were going to be left out of the festivities.

Jiang Cheng lingered at the doorway as he watched Xichen at work. He was almost done, the kindergarten classroom being one of the smallest on campus, but Jiang Cheng could see the perfectionist part of Xichen coming out, adjusting, and re-adjusting the various hanging hearts from the ceiling.

“If you get this picky about it, we’re never going to finish all the classrooms,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen turned to him with a wide smile. He nodded in agreement before folding up his stepladder. “I can always fix it tomorrow,” he said.

“It’s perfect,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen shrugged. “For now, I suppose.” He leaned down and kissed Jiang Cheng, sweet and quick. “Hello, my love.”

Jiang Cheng shifted the plastic tub in his arms and kissed Xichen again. “Hi,” he said. “So, where to?”

“Anna’s classroom for you,” Xichen said. “I’ll be in Scott’s room.”

Jiang Cheng laughed low. “Don’t trust yourself alone in a room with me?”

“In that sweater?” Xichen asked, referring to their shared favorite cream-colored sweater Jiang Cheng had grabbed after his post-workout shower. “Never,” he said.

“The headmaster of Lan Academy incapable of controlling himself? Whatever would your uncle say?”

“Shameless.”

Jiang Cheng turned around to find Lan Jingyi laughing at them from behind a veritable mountain of balloons, Ouyang Zizhen and Lan Sizhui with him.

“Your imitation is getting better,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Thanks,” Lan Jingyi said. He turned to Xichen. “We’ve got about a hundred balloons done already. Should we put them up now or keep them in groups?”

“In groups,” Xichen said. “There should be some weights in there to keep them tied down.”

Jingyj gave them a salute before the boys disappeared.

**********

Jiang Cheng was decorating his final classroom of the night, hanging the last paper chain and the last bit of streamers, when familiar arms wrapped around him tight and teeth nipped at the skin behind his ear.

“Really? That’s what does it for you now? The smell of construction paper and glue? The hamster wheel squeaking in the background? Pressing me up against the Percy Jackson bookshelf?” Jiang Cheng asked as he leaned into Xichen’s arms.

“Hmm, or it could just be you, wearing my sweater, smelling like my cologne,” Xichen said.

“My sweater first,” Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen laughed, his fingers sliding under the fabric to rest on Jiang Cheng’s stomach. He made a confused sound and leaned forward to inspect the paper chain above them. “Is that--is that glitter glue?”

Leave it to his brother to ruin the moment even when he wasn’t actually present.

“So, my brother dropped by today. He decided my glue sticks were too basic and then bought out, what I’m guessing, was CVS’ entire stock of glitter glue.”

“Festive,” Xichen said. His fingers slid further up Jiang Cheng’s stomach until they stopped and Xichen’s entire body froze.

Jiang Cheng grinned with the oh-so-familiar rush of rendering Lan Xichen stock still and speechless. It was nice to know he could still do that after nearly six years together.

“Is that?” Xichen’s voice stuttered as his long fingers encountered the first chain fringe hanging between Jiang Cheng’s nipple rings. “Is that?” he asked again.

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng asked. He gasped as Xichen’s fingers wrapped around the closest chain and tugged.

Xichen made an inhuman sound and Jiang Cheng grinned again.

“So, happy early Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I decided to stick with the chain theme.”

“Get in the car,” Xichen said. “Now. Please. I can’t--not--this is a classroom for fifth graders.”

“No one told you to get handsy on school property,” Jiang Cheng said, even though he damn well knew how Xichen got when he wore this sweater.

“Car. Now.” Xichen kissed him again, tugging Jiang Cheng’s bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a little nip. “Please,” he finished.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Jiang Cheng said.

[thorbunni]

Hii can you write a cooking class au where thor is being a teacher coz he wants to get mire into into midgardian culture and after class he tells you to stop and makes out with choclate syrup and licks it and lets you do the same 😉😉😋😋

Best Dish

pairings: thor x reader

warnings: light smut, cursing

a/n: soooooo this went in a completely different direction than the prompt, sorry! i hope you still love it!

     You were having the best day of your life. And it wasn’t even a good day. Your hair wasn’t cooperating with you, no matter how much product you put on it, the keys to your car went missing and you had to walk in the rain to this cooking class you signed up for, and you spilled your coffee on yourself when you tried to show your ID to the front desk of the building that you were taking your cooking class. You let out an aggravated sigh as you heaped your heavy bag of materials at the station with your name on it. As you slouched onto your stool, you were ready to take a big ass nap. Students began piling into the door, creating more and more noise as people began to recognize and meet each other. You were done with it. Then, HE walked in and it seemed as everything was right in the world.

     His blue button up clung to his beautiful body. You could almost see the outline of his rock hard abs through the dress shirt. His arms were huge, godly even. His long blonde hair was tied back into a a half bun, showing off his electrifying baby blues. Stubble covered his sharp jawline, just enough to make your knees weak. Hell, he himself made your entire body weak.

     You were snapped out of your mini daydream by a loud crash. You didn’t care too much. It was probably just a klutz that knocked their mixing bowl off of the counter.

“Welcome, everyone!” the blonde said as he began writing on the board in front of the classroom, “My name is Mr. Odinson, and I’m looking forward to spending these next few weeks as your guide and mentor through the world of cooking.”

     Your head snapped up at his deep voice. Instantly, your eyes connected with his. It was almost as if the eye contact created sparks of electricity between the two of you. His words paused for just a second as he regained his composure.

“As you all may know, I am of Asgard. Because of this, I have not had much chance to try the cuisine of anywhere outside of America. Your goal for today is to create something special for me, whether it is a recipe you learned during a visit to a foreign land or a recipe that has been passed down in your family for generations. You have free reign over ingredients, courses, and machines, but you must finish within the time limits of this class. Go break some eggs,” Mr. Odinson said. Then, he smiled. And you swear to god that when he did, the entire world around you stopped. He hadn’t looked at you since he broke the enchanting eye contact you two had earlier, but that didn’t mean you didn’t look at him.

     You tried so hard not to embarrass yourself in front of the teacher. And, honestly, it was the most difficult thing you have had to do since you were in high school. The two-hour class quickly came to pass and, before you knew it, Mr. Odinson had tried all the dishes and you were packing up your materials. You were one of the last ones in the now sunset-painted classroom. The only other student had stayed dropped their spatula and chose to wash in the built-in sink before he left. Just as you tucked the black utensil case into your bigger bag, you heard his voice.

“Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a minute.”

     You whirled around, careful not to make anything fall off of the quaint counter. Your teacher was currently leaning on the desk, arms crossed, with a wicked smirk painted across his handsome face. You could feel your panties soak just by looking at him. This man was too beautiful for his own good.

     He cleared his throat as to ease the sexual tension in the room, “I just wanted to speak with you about what you created and your skill with making sweets. What was it called again?”

“A chocolate meltdown cake,” you choked out. He pushed himself off the desk, taking slow footsteps towards your station.

“Ah, yes. It was very decadent, by the way. I could almost taste the love that was put into making it,” he chucked, “That wouldn’t be the your secret ingredient though, right?”

“Of course not, Mr. Odinson. As a culinary artist, I pride myself on using more important ingredients than ‘love’ in my dishes,” you claimed, “What you probably tasted was an inhuman level of homemade chocolate syrup.”

     You pulled out the bottle of chocolate syrup that you used to make your cake. By then, Mr. Odinson was standing on the opposite side of the small counter you were assigned. At this point, you were sure he could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Please, Ms. Y/L/N. Call me Thor. You mind if I taste this homemade delicacy?” he asked motioning towards the bottle in your hand. Gladly, you handed it to him. What you weren’t expecting was for him to stick his pretty pink tongue out and cover it in your grandmother’s recipe. You were ready to cum in that very moment.

     After he was done, he smirked in the most sinful way possible, as if he knew your panties were dripping with desire, “Very delicious, Y/N.”

     He switched sides, getting closer to you with every step. Finally, Thor rested his hands on your ass, gripping it as he pulled your body to rest against his.

“I bet you’d taste even better, though,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His hands left your ass, pulling off your top on the way up. You let out a barely audible moan as he unclipped your bra and cupped your breasts. Thor just smiled to himself. Already, he had you moaning with your eyes closed and head tilted back and all he had done was take your clothes off. What caught you by surprise was the warm liquid that was drizzled onto the upper half of your body. Opening your eyes, you saw Thor had covered you in the chocolate syrup and was now kissing, sucking, and licking the patches of skin covered in chocolate. You felt your knees go weak, but you didn’t hit the ground. A pair of strong arms caught you and placed you on your workstation. Thor was smiling still as he continued to clean your body with his tongue. He reached up to grab your hands.

     It wasn’t too long before Thor finished devouring your body. He slowly kissed his way back up, then placed a sweet, sensual kiss on your lips. You tasted the chocolate on his lips and you breathed in his cologne. You pulled apart from the kiss, both needing to breathe.

“I think that was the best dish I’ve tasted all day,” he spoke breathlessly, just above a whisper.

“Oh, yeah?” you playfully cocked an eyebrow. He helped you off of the counter and you began gathering your clothes.

“Definitely,” he smiled, “but I think it’ll taste even better at my place.”

[iuliiakozlova-blog]

Blog #1: Culinary and Nutrition Blog Assignment.

Hello and welcome to my first blog!

I’m Iuliia, the GBC student of Baking Pre-employment program.  I’ve never thought that I will be related to a culinary and food industry until I came to Canada and started working in the restaurant 5 years ago. Jewelry Designer turned to a Baker - this is how I can describe myself shortly. I believe that my artistic skills and color vision will allow me to create beautiful cake designs and help me to become an independent cake decorator.

My family has a history of Hypertension. My grandmother, my mom and myself we all have a High Blood Pressure. Therefore, I’m interested to learn more about diet or any types of food that can help to prevent or maintain Hypertension.

I think Nutrition plays an important role in the culinary industry. Moreover, its popularity grows very rapidly nowadays. This can be explained by the fact that more and more people becoming concerned about the food they consume due to the different lifestyle or diet (ex. vegetarian, keto, vegan, paleo diet, etc.). Also, the food industry has to take into consideration the increasing number of consumers with food allergies and intolerances. Thus, restaurants have to include in the menu some gluten free, nut free, dairy free items. (All the above explanation made by my observation at the restaurant where I work.)

I have researched and compared 2 websites: Harward School of Public Health and Goinswriter.com. Both websites have health-related posts. However, Harward’s website has all proper citations and list of references at the end of the post, while Goinswriter doesn’t have any references or picture credits, and the most of posts written by people who have no related degree or qualification.

image credit:  https://pixabay.com/

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Fragile Hearts chapter 1: Like We Never Lost

Click the OP is the READ MORE link does not show up.

Vegas was incredible. Maybe it was just this specific tourist area, but wow, it was amazing. There was so much to see, even in broad daylight. Katie couldn’t imagine what it would look like at night. Maybe once Matt came home from work, he’d walk with her through the Vegas Strip so she could see. She’d wanted to visit since she saw Miss Congeniality 2 with her college roommate.

Sure, she’d seen other planets and galaxies and had fought in wars with aliens, but Earthly sights were fun to see too. The cold air was similar to that of Massachusetts, so she didn’t mind it too much. Besides, she really needed a break from the intensity at MIT. This many tour sites and colors and people were exactly what she needed, especially after last night’s nightmare.

God, the nightmares. Katie had woken her roommate several times during the semester already because of them, and while her roommate understood, it was a lot better with Matt around. He knew what she’d seen. He had his own nightmares.

Still, seeing a giant M&M mascot, and miniature replicas of the Statue of Liberty, the Pyramids of Egypt, and the Eiffel Tower. It was incredible to listen to people speak in Hindu, Chinese, Spanish, and a variety of other languages. She hadn’t been able to speak Altean since they’d returned to Earth to lead normal lives. It was the only other language she knew aside from English and a bit of Italian.

The street was crowded with people and Katie was thankful for the distraction. She had earbuds in if only to not seem like an awkward loner as she walked through Vegas… well, alone. She was getting a little too far from Matt’s apartment though, and she knew she should turn back. The majority of the people going the other way were across the street, so she stopped and neared the edge of the sidewalk, looking both ways before she stepped off the sidewalk.

That’s when she saw it, a little ways further down on the other side of the street. It was a bakery, she assumed. It had bright colors, swirled together in a way that seemed oddly familiar. Unsettling and yet comforting at once. She furrowed her eyebrows and stepped off the curb when she heard a loud, angry honk. She jumped back, gasping as a taxi driver sped past, waving his fist at her. She struggled to catch her breath for a second, vaguely wondering how that guy would’ve felt if he knew she had helped save his life and that of the entire universe.

She swallowed down her panic and turned the volume of the music up a little more to mute her thoughts. When her heartrate returned to normal, she crossed the street without almost getting run over and started for the bakery.

On display were several, beautiful, irregular-shaped cakes with swirling colors and intricate designs. Some of the cakes were made into spheres, held up in a way that Katie desperately wanted to know. They looked like planets. Planets Katie had visited before. Planet Arus, the Balmera, the Olkarion, the Taujeer. Places Katie hadn’t seen in almost four years, if not more. Other cakes were built to look like lions. They were all different colors. But Katie noticed there was no black, red, blue, green, or yellow. And there were some normal cakes that were simply decorated with frosting in the most detailed way Katie had ever seen.

She pressed her fingertips against the glass as though it would let her touch the cakes. She looked up at the sign, realizing her eyes were watery from memories of the friends she once had.

Fale o Liona Bakery

Katie gulped and ran a hand through her hair, removing her earphones as she walked in. She looked around and saw the expanses of purple hues, light blue, and the hidden colors of the lions that had once formed Voltron. She noticed the cakes had names that sounded Altean and that some seemed to use a form in intricate technology. She couldn’t imagine how much these cakes must cost.

As she walked around the bakery, taking in the familiar scent of baked good and sweet frosting, she heard a laugh.

A very familiar, deep, hearty laugh. A laugh she hadn’t heard in years. She turned and felt her chest constrict the second she saw him.

Hunk.

Her goofy roommate in the Garrison, her partner in crime in Voltron, her best friend. The guy she hadn’t seen since they’d landed on Earth and gone their separate ways. She stood, frozen in shock as she took him in. He had a light, clean-shaven beard, a chef’s coat, and apron tied around his middle, and tattoos that reached 3/4ths of the way down on arm. Very little was visible under the folded sleeves of his white coat. It had two rows of buttons, each painted either red, blue, green, or yellow, and one remained black.

He was still tall, still covered in muscle that came from fighting, training, and war. Hunk had always been big, but he seemed to have grown into it over the last handful of years. He wasn’t wearing his headband anymore. Katie figured that’s what was wrapped around his wrist on his tattooed arm. Still, his hair fell in the same, messy tufts over his forehead and curled at the ends near his neck.

He was smiling at a customer, using his hands to communicate. Katie walked toward him slowly, wondering if he’d want to see her or if she’d only remind him of the struggles and trauma of war.

She couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she stood a few feet away from the counter, everyone else milling about, pointing and complimenting the designs and cakes, while she remained still, staring at her old best friend. The memories began to resurface.

Finding Shiro, finding Keith, the lions, Hunk fixing the space goo, going to the Space Mall, flying Green, losing Shiro and geeking out with Hunk when they were given a technological task. He’d caught on quick with all the time he spent watching her work and talking about nothing and everything.

Then all of a sudden, his eyes were on her. Confused at first, and then the recognition began. He furrowed his eyebrows and waved someone over to the register without taking his eyes off her.

She wondered if he’d recognize her. She knew she looked different. One side of her head was shaved, the other side had light brown waves of hair that fell in layers just under her ear, and she didn’t have her glasses. She wasn’t in her usual green jacket and she was a little taller, a little more filled out. She had just turned twenty when she saw him last. She was almost twenty-five now.

But he walked over to her, as always looming over her, his eyes skimming her face frantically.

“Pidge?” he whispered.

It had been so long since she’d heard that name. She let out a small laugh and threw her arms around him. “Hunk!”

“Oh my God. It’s you. It’s really you!” He hugged her tightly and lifted her off the ground in a bear hug. Those hugs had comforted her and the others so many times before, and she had missed them terribly. Nobody hugged like Hunk.

He let her down and pulled away, one arm at her shoulder, the other barely touching her cheek. She managed a smile, hoping he understood that her tears were fueled by happiness. “It’s been so long, big guy,” she breathed, her voice breaking slightly.

“I thought I’d never see you again, Pidge.” He chuckled and pulled her into another hug. “God, I missed you!” He pulled away and gently pulled her along with him. He led her behind the counter and to the kitchen where a few other people were baking and mixing. “I do the actual designing,” he explained. “It’s all Voltron-based. It’s kind of how I cope. I create the things in my dreams and memories and… I make them prettier. I make them smaller.”

“They’re beautiful,” she murmured, inspecting a cake with a battle ship depicted. Hunk had been tinkering with it, but she wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. “So, you’re in Vegas now?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been here for a few years. Originally, I tried to open a culinary school but I had no certification. So I started this. It was just a few cakes at first, birthday parties for friends. Then it sort of exploded.” Katie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What about you? What have you been doing, what are you doing in Vegas?”

“I’m at MIT. I started going by Katie again. I had to do therapy for a while first, and get my GED before they let me in. Apparently fighting an alien race isn’t sufficient excuse for dropping out of school at fourteen.” Hunk snorted. “I’m in my last year as a grad student. I’m graduating early thanks to summer classes, but I’m on winter break now. I’m staying with Matt at his apartment.”

“How long is your break?”

“About a month,” she answered. “Have you… heard from anyone else?”

His expression sobered and he shook his head. “I know what they wanted to do. But I don’t know if they’re still there.” He ran a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry I called you Pidge. I didn’t know you were going by Katie now.”

“No, no, no!” she protested. “It’s okay! Really. You and the others are the only ones who called me that. I don’t mind it. It’s just been a while since I was called that.” She shrugged.

He smiled and punched her shoulder lightly. “You look good, Pidge. Still working out?”

“Old habits die hard. You look good too. I’m loving the beard,” she laughed. He rolled his eyes and smirked. “I also like the ink.”

“Oh thanks,” he said, pushing his sleeve up. “I incorporated a lion. You know I named this place Castle of Lions.” Pidge raised an eyebrow. “It’s in Samoan. It just sucks that no one knows about Voltron and everything we did, you know? So I sort of bring it to life here.” He took her hand and pulled her over to a line of cakes, his eyes bright. “Oh, and look! Remember when we had to reboot the ion cannon?” Pidge nodded and crouched over to inspect a cake. “Well, I decreased the intensity levels and minimized it, so….” He pressed a button on top of a cake decoration. Small blast appeared on each corner of the cake in pink beams of light. The name on the cake began to glow, the sound of a lion’s roar rising from the pastry.

“Holy crap,” she said, her eyes wide.

“And I can reset it, look.” He tinkered with the blasters and tugged on a decoration, resetting it. The rest of the cake remained intact and unaffected. “That’s thanks to you. You taught me a lot. And I sort of put a little into each cake. The physics, the technology, even the names for the cakes.”

Pidge smiled at him and crossed her arms. “This is so impressive, Hunk. You should have your own TV show.” He smiled gratefully at her and leaned against the counter, rubbing his face. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here.” She turned to him and smiled wider. Her cheeks hurt, but it had just been so long since she’d seen or heard from her friends and there were so many emotions that came from it. “Hey, I close up in like an hour. Why don’t I take you on a tour around here while you wait on Matt? I’d love to say hi to him too.”

“Yeah, that sounds great! We’ve got years to catch up on. Do you mind if I just hang out here meanwhile?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back, I have to go get this cake into someone’s car.” He gave her a two fingered salute and disappeared past the double doors. Meanwhile, Pidge took the time to look around the kitchen marveling at the designs in the middle of being cut into their designated shapes.

Hunk was taking orders and talking prices and designs while Pidge peeked through the circular window on the doors. The place was packed even as it neared closing time. Once Hunk ushered the remaining people out and closed the doors, he returned to start cleaning up. He threw a rag at Pidge and gestured to the counter. “Come on, Shortstack, make yourself useful.”

Pidge stuck her tongue out at him and walked over to wipe off the flour and food coloring that dusted the counters. Hunk was sweeping and cleaning out the oven, going on and on about baking methods. Pidge had missed these talks. He would always talk about cooking and food when she tinkered with gadgets and the castle’s systems. It felt nice; it felt familiar.

When they were finally done, Pidge sat on the counter and swung her legs waiting for Hunk to discard his uniform and change into some other clothes in the utility closet. When he came back, he was dressed in a short sleeved shirt and Pidge could see the dark, swirling ink on his arm going up his arm in intricate patterns.

“Did those hurt?” she asked as he pulled on a jacket.

“Nah. Not really. I mean… I guess I’ve had worse, so it felt like nothing.” Pidge nodded in understanding. “Ready to go?” She nodded and hopped off, immediately jumping onto his back like she used to back when they were part of Voltron. And just like before, Hunk didn’t even falter. He just chuckled and hefted her up so she could properly hold onto him.

“Where to first, big guy?”

“Have you seen Caesar’s Palace yet?” he asked.

“From the outside,” she answered. Hunk nodded and walked out, with Pidge latched onto him like a baby Koala. “Do you live nearby?”

“It’s about a half hour from here, but it’s good business, so… worth it. Cab fare sucks, though.” Pidge hummed and looked around. “We could check out the pirate show at Treasure Island! Oh man, they have some of the best margaritas there too. And the Bellagio has this really nice water show along with lights that are insanely pretty at night.”

“D’you go to all these places alone?” she asked, feeling a twinge of sadness at the idea.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I mean, it gave me time to think, I guess. Besides, you’re here now. And instead being pathetically lost, I can guide you through.” Pidge smiled and wrapped her arms a little tighter around him before letting go and patting his shoulder. He acknowledged the sign and stooped a bit so she could hop down.  

They fell into step with each other as they walked to the hotel and Pidge managed to snap a few pictures with the Greek statues. She took a few selfies with Hunk and looked at some of the souvenirs. They were crazy expensive though, so she didn’t even bother trying to buy anything.

“Oh hey, we should head back to the apartment. Matt should be back soon.” Hunk nodded and they hailed a cab to go back to the apartment. Matt was already there, towel drying his hair while he scrolled through his phone.

He looked up when he heard the door, peeking over his glasses and smiled. His face was marred from a Galra attack, and Pidge hated the reminder of what they’d done to him. But Matt always said they were more of a reminder of his brave little sister who never stopped looking for him.

His eyebrows went up, and he had to fix his glasses. “Hunk? Holy crap what are you doing here?” he said with a smile, walking over to hug him. Matt had helped a lot in the remaining missions after Pidge had managed to find him. He’d gotten very close to Hunk through his sister and seeing him must have been as wonderful for him as it had been for Pidge.

“I live here, buddy. I didn’t know you did too!”

“Hunk runs a bakery on the Strip. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it,” Pidge said.

Matt blinked in surprise. “Wow. I’m surprised too. Well, it’s great to see you man. Katie, have you eaten?”

After being called Pidge for the past few hours, it was a bit of a reality check to be called Katie again. She shook her head and smiled. “We got a snack while we were walking around. Hunk wants us to check out Treasure Island and the Bellagio. We were just waiting on you to get home.”

Matt looked between them and smiled kindly. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and catch up? I’ll join tomorrow. I’m pretty tired anyway.”

Katie frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Katie, you’ve got a whole month here. It’s okay. I’m kind of in the mood for take out and Netflix, so….” He shrugged and kissed her forehead affectionately. He turned to Hunk and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hunk, big guy, take care of my sister.”

Hunk gave him a lopsided smile and glanced at Pidge. “She can do that just fine herself, but I gotcha.”

Matt turned and gave his sister a hug before she left. “Be good,” he called after her.

“I’m twenty-four, leave me alone,” she said waving as she left. He chuckled as the door clicked. She turned to Hunk as they left the building and shrugged. “So what now? We have time to kill.”

“Ever gambled?” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. He laughed, a full, honest sound and nudged her. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” She shrugged and followed him as he hailed a cab and they arrived at the strip again. He led her to the casino with an Eiffel Tower in the front. Paris Las Vegas.

They went inside and Pidge watched with amusement as Hunk spent his money at slot machines and watched a confusing game of roulette which Hunk seemed to understand just fine. He managed to gain back twenty of the hundred dollars he spent.

“I gotta admit, it was pretty fun watching you lose.” Hunk rolled his eyes at her.

“Okay, Miss High and Mighty, why don’t you give it a go?” Pidge snorted and sat at the roulette table.

“Reds or blacks?”

She gulped and set forward a few chips of her own. “Blacks.”

There was spinning, there was shouting, there was the ping of slot machines. But Pidge focused her thoughts on the familiar pressure of Hunk’s hand on her shoulder. It made the anxiety go away. And then suddenly cheering and Hunk had her in a tight, boa-worthy hug. “You did it!” he cheered. Pidge blinked and chuckled.

A half hour later, Pidge was flaunting 800 dollars’ worth of chips in Hunk’s face. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Beginner’s luck.”

She snorted. “Don’t be a sore loser. Come on, drinks are on me.” They walked over to the bar and Hunk started with a whiskey and coke while Pidge ordered an amaretto sour. “You ever think about the others?” she murmured.

“All the time. I always wondered if you got into school like you wanted. If Keith ever found whatever the hell he was looking for. If Shiro’s okay still being up there. If Lance is happy where he’s at. If any of them think of me.” He shrugged. “There’s all these social media outlets, and I tried them if only to find you guys, but… no one had them. And I deleted mine because it just… seemed so stupid, you know? Hearing this stupid discourse over the Kardashians, over Taylor Swift, over the newest American Horror Story season. They’re all so small compared to the war we were in that I couldn’t stand seeing people so ignorantly obsessed over them, you know?”

Pidge ran her finger over the sugar around her mason jar. “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t bother keeping my social media around that long either. I think maybe Keith and Lance may have done the same.” She bit her lip and tossed back half of her amaretto before taking a breath. “It sucks that those two had to break up. They were good together.”

Hunk hummed and used a tiny black straw to swirl his ice. “Yeah. But they both wanted different things. Keith wanted to see the world, and Lance was rooted to Cuba. To his family.”

Pidge nodded. “Maybe one day they’ll meet up again and-” She brought her hands together and apart in a mock explosion, widening her eyes. “Bam! They’ll fall in love again.” Hunk chuckled and nodded.

“Well, what about you? Any dating? Boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever back at MIT?” he asked.

She groaned and placed her chin in her hands. “Ha! Nope. For one, I’m a bit older than most people in my classes. Not by a lot, but still. And… you know not everyone understands the traumatic effects of intergalactic war.” She sighed and swiped more sugar off with her finger before licking it off. “First boyfriend laughed in my face when I tried to explain. I kicked him out. Literally, just a roundhouse kick and he fell back against the door,” she laughed.

Hunk’s eyebrows went up and he laughed with her before sobering a bit. “I’m sorry, Pidge.” She shrugged and sipped her drink.

“What about you? Do you miss Shay?”

Hunk grimaced and groaned. “I think she’s just a big what-if. I knew her for maybe a total of three days while I was up there? Not really long enough for a decent relationship. I wonder sometimes, but… it’s not like I’m heartbroken about it.” He drank his soda and scrunched his nose at the strength of the liquor. “To being war vets no one knows about,” he said, holding up his cup.

Pidge clinked her glass to his and smiled as she finished her drink.

“Hey sweetheart,” she heard a low, smooth voice say. She only turned when she felt the hand on her arm. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks,” she answered, turning back to Hunk.

“Ah, come on, pretty face like you-”

“I said no,” she snapped, turning back to him.

He chuckled and bit his lip. Pidge knew this kind of guy. She’d met plenty at MIT. Guys who thought a smoldering look would have the world wrapped around their fingers, guys who felt the girls they hit on owed them something. He fixed her with dark eyes and a cocky smirk. The worst part was that he was attractive. He didn’t look like a creep, and he was young. If he hadn’t been such a jackass, he might’ve been a nice guy.

“Come on. What are you drinking?” She refused to answer, narrowing her eyes at him. “Bartender? Another of whatever she’s having on my tab.”

Pidge turned to the bartender and let out an angry, strong, “No.” The bartender hesitated and moved away to deal with another customer.

The guy scoffed and leaned against the counter. “Look, sweetheart, this hard to get act is fun, but it gets boring real quick. You made your point, now let me get you a drink, yeah?” He tilted her head up by her chin with a condescending smirk and a wink.

Pidge blinked and stared at him in shock. She took a calming breath, stood, sharing a look with Hunk and looked up at the guy who had to be nearly a foot taller than her. Within seconds, she had his arm pinned behind his back and his face slammed into the counter, rattling every drink as she pressed down on the side of his face and twisted his arm a little more. “Ow! What the fuck?” he shrieked, no longer sounding like a smooth talker.

Hunk smirked and shrugged, sipping his drink. “She said no. You should’ve listened.” He winked and the guy seemed to struggle against Pidge’s hold. The bartender was staring, the other people along the bar were murmuring, and even onlookers were hesitating, anxious to see what the small woman would do to the tall man she had pinned to a bar counter.

“Leave me alone. I won’t be so nice next time,” she hissed before releasing him.

He stepped back, stumbling over a stool. “Freak!” He ran off and Pidge rolled her eyes as she sat down.

Two more amaretto sours were placed in front of her. She looked at the bartender in confusion. He smiled in a way that reminded Pidge of Lance for a second. “One’s on the house. The other one was bought by the group of ladies over there.” Pidge glance over to the end of the table where a trio of girls were giving her a thumbs up.

She chuckled and nodded. “Thanks.” She glanced at Hunk who was smiling at her with a proud little smirk. “What?”

“Same old Pidge,” he said. He ruffled her hair and she punched him lightly as she laughed.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as she started on her second drink. He hummed as he finished his first. “Why didn’t you try to stand up for me?”

He bit his lip and looked at her seriously. “I know you. I knew you didn’t need me, you do just fine fending for yourself. And I know you knew I was here. That if you needed me, you’d ask for it. I’m sorry if it came off as insen-”

“No, don’t apologize,” she interrupted. She smiled and leaned against her cheek. “I’m a big, tough girl, and I’m glad you know it.” He laughed and ordered another drink before Pidge spoke again. “Do you ever miss being part of Voltron?”

Hunk sighed and took a large gulp of his drink. “Sometimes. I miss the nights we’d stay up talking. The space mall. I miss you, Lance, Keith, Shiro, Allura, and Coran. I miss my boy, Yellow. But I don’t miss the fighting. The killing. The fear.” Pidge nodded in understanding. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I miss Green, yeah. But I feel I wouldn’t miss the other stuff if we’d just stayed in touch. I went up there looking for one brother and… I gained four more and a crazy uncle.” Hunk laughed ran a hand through his hair. “Then… we just sort of drifted apart. I mean I guess I get it. We’re all reminders to each other of the things we went through. We all have those scars that remind us of the worst battles. Maybe there’s a small part in each of us that wants everything about that life gone. But I also wish we could’ve started over here, you know? We could’ve gotten a giant apartment and lived all together.”

“We’d have to deal with Lance and Keith screwing like bunny rabbits, though,” Hunk pointed out. Pidge laughed and tugged on her light brown hair. “But we’d eat awesome food.”

“Rent would be easy. Split with the five of us.” She frowned and shut her eyes. “Do you get nightmares?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“If we stayed together, we would be able to help each other through them. Instead of having roommates look at us like we’re nuts.”

“Or waking up alone.” Pidge looked at him sadly and nodded. “Can you promise me something, Pidge?” She arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Don’t you disappear on me again. I got you back. I don’t want to lose track of you again and spend another four or five years wondering if you’re okay.”

She smiled, feeling her eyes water and placed her hand over his. Her skin seemed paler against his dark, tanned skin. “I promise. If you can promise the same to me.” He nodded and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in.

“Want to get out of here? The show should start soon.”

She nodded and drank her last amaretto sour quickly. “God I hope that doesn’t hit me too fast. I usually drink those slower.” Hunk laughed and nudged her along after she paid.

They walked down the street, already coming alive with colors and music and more people. Hunk took her hand to lead her without losing her in the crowd and she struggled to keep up without jogging. Finally they reached a place with two large boats and people dressed as pirates holding on to masts and shouting. People were standing, looking up at the boats and cheering as the show began. “Wait here,” Hunk half shouts in her ears. She nods and hugs herself. Despite the amount of people, it was still cold. Then Hunk was back with two yard glasses filled with frozen margaritas.

“Holy shit, I can smell the tequila from here,” she laughed as she took hers. She took a sip and her eyebrows went up. “Wow, that’s good. Super strong, but good.” She sniffed and looked up at him. “So what’s the story here?”

“Just a pirate battle with singing and dancing and cannons,” he answered, leaning down so she could hear him. “Can you see?” he teased. She hit his arm and rolled her eyes before sipping her margarita. Somewhere along shouting and swinging from ropes, Pidge felt pleasantly lightheaded and giggly. She felt her limbs loosen and the alcohol let warmth flood her veins, making the cold a little more bearable.

She had to drink her margarita slowly if she didn’t want to be a stumbling mess by the end of the show.

“Hunk, I’m cold,” she shouted.

Hunk looked over at her, her pale cheeks tinged bright red along with her nose. Her eyes were wide, and she was giving him a lazy smile. He suppressed a smile and leaned down. “You drunk already?”

She shook her head. “No. Getting tipsy though. I’m cold.” Hunk chuckled unzipped his jacket, pulling her into it. She was still so small in comparison to him. “Jesus, aren’t they freezing?” she hissed as she huddled into the jacket, sipping her margarita.

Hunk looked up at the half dressed pirates as some fell into the water without hesitating. It made him cringe. “They must get paid well.” He rested his chin on her head, just barely feeling the difference between the side that was shaved and the side that had light waves falling just below her pierced ear. Pidge jumped slightly at the sound of the canons before erupting into laughter inside his jacket.

She turned around and buried her face in his chest. “Okay, I’m tipsy now.” Hunk felt his own slight buzz as well and nodded looking up at the show. “Listen,” she said, tugging his jacket. “If I get drunk, don’t take me to Matt’s. He’s never seen me drunk, and I don’t care if I am twenty-four I will not let him see me drunk. Kay?”

“M’kay,” he agreed, sipping his margarita. “You okay with taking a cab to my place?” She nodded. “Well let’s check out the Bellagio before we go. I need you to be a little sober for that.”

“Okay!” She zipped the jacket over her and smiled goofily up at Hunk. “Let’s go!”

Hunk snorted and struggled to walk away from the performance with Pidge literally zipped up into the same jacket, their feet stubbing over each other’s as they laughed down the street. A few people stared or whispered as they looked at them, but neither of them really cared.

It had been too long since either of them were able to be themselves without secrets or hiding. They’d known each other for years, and they’d experienced things that naturally bonded a group, like almost dying. So it didn’t matter that people gave them annoyed or confused looks because they were best friends and they were finally together again.

As they reached the sidewalk facing the curved hotel, Pidge waddled them closer to the edge and stood on her toes to look down at the expanse of water.

“Ooh my God, ducks!” she shrieked. “Hunk, there’s ducks!”

“If that excited you, wait till the water show starts,” he chuckled.

She sipped from her margarita absentmindedly as she looked up at the hotel casino. “Oh, fuck, brain freeze,” she gasped. Hunk laughed at her and she frowned up at him before unzipping herself from him and pointing at his yard glass. “Go ahead and chug it. Give yourself a brain freeze!”

“I don’t get brain freezes.”

“Bull shit,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Come on, big guy. Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Hunk indulged her and discarded his straw, tipping the last half of his margarita up and squeezing his eyes shut at the bitterness of the tequila and the coldness of the drink. Pidge whooped as he finished and scrunched his entire face up, feeling the beginning of a brain freeze.

“That’s gonna hit me real soon,” he breath, holding his head.

Pidge giggled and sipped on her margarita which was still a little under half. Then water shot up behind her and she turned, her eyes bright as she looked at the spectacle, lighting up with colors as the water tried to reach the sky. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Oh my God, it’s incredible!” she shouted as she started jumping. She looped her arm through Hunk’s and smiled out at the view. “I can’t believe you live here.”

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he answered. “I feel like if I look away too long, you’ll disappear.” She frowned and clung to his arm. “It feels nice to have my best friend back.” She hummed and they stared in silence as the water and lights performed their elegant dance before Hunk suggested getting a ride back to his place. Once the margarita was done, Pidge was definitely in the early stages of being drunk and she kept talking about different things all at once, but the hum of her constant voice was reassuring and familiar even if Hunk wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

So he hailed a cab and managed a conversation that made the ride seem way shorter than it was. She held onto him to remain steady as they went up two flights of stairs and down the hall to Hunk’s apartment. As soon as they walked in, Pidge began inspecting each little thing.

It wasn’t much. Hunk kept his walls bare for the most part, unable to stand the idea of being rooted here to an unfamiliar place forever. Despite living there for a few years, it never felt like home. Now, with Pidge walking around, it felt like it could be. Like part of his family was back. “Of course the kitchen is stocked,” she called. She leaned over the bar area and gave a mischievous smile. “Look what I found,” she sing-songed as she waved a bottle of scotch.

“Are you trying to get drunk?” he asked.

She thought for a moment before nodding. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around anyone I trust to be drunk with. But you have to get drunk too. It’s no fun getting drunk alone.”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “But let’s make it a drinking game.” He turned on his television and opened the Netflix app before reaching Friends. “Because I don’t want to get totally trashed right now, this is what we’ll do. Take a shot any time you hear one of these phrases or this thing happens.”

He grabbed a pen and started writing them down hesitating, pondering and writing again. “You’ve watched this show a lot haven’t you?” Pidge noted.

“Oh yeah.” He finished and handed the paper over.

Oh. My. God.

How you doin’?

Ugly Naked Guy

Can you BE any more (enter verb or adjective)

Chandler makes an analogy to his shitty past

Rachel cries

Phoebe sings

Monica nags about cleaning

“We may still get trashed,” he said.

“I’m holding you to that,” she said, looking over the list as she grabbed two shot glasses from the counter. “Alright, let’s do this. Do I have to watch from the beginning?”

“We don’t have to. I’m rewatching and I’m on season six.” She nodded and sat beside him, bringing her feet up under her while Hunk started the show. She poured the liquor into the shot glasses and asked him to tell her who was who.

He gave her a rundown of each character and their quirk and she nodded, prepared for the drinking game.

Except she wasn’t. She totally wasn’t. It wasn’t long before she was a bubbly, giggling mess, laughing at every little thing on the show while Hunk laughed more out of a need to sleep because each time he got drunk, he just wanted to sleep. Pidge stood and tugged on him, urging him to wake up.

“Hunk. Hunk. C’mon we’re playin’ a game! Hu-unk!” She lost her grip and fell back erupting into laughter. Hunk stood, wondering if she was okay before bursting into laughter at the sight of her curled on the floor, face red from intoxication and laughter.

“You look like a roach,” he snorted. Her eyes widened and she swiped at his legs, missing terribly before falling victim to endless laughter again.

“I can’t get up,” she snorted.

“Okay, okay, one. Two. Three!” He pulled her up but he lost his footing and she ended toppling over him, rolling over to keep laughing.

“Dude. Your ceiling sparkles,” she giggled.

“S’popcorn ceiling. Dunno why it had glitter. My room had glowing stars too.” They stared at it for a while. “Why are we on the floor?”

“I dunno,” she answered.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I’m dizzy.”

“You gonna puke?”

“Dunno.” He huffed and felt his eyelids get heavy. “Hunk! Wake up! I wanna talk!” she whined, nudging him.

“I’m ‘wake!” he gasped as he sat up. “Whoa. Uh-uh. Nope.” He grabbed his head and sniffed. “Mkay. Talk. I’m listening.”

And he did. For a while at least. Pidge was talking, her words slurred and slow as she rambled about trivial people from college, but still comforting. It was like a drunk lullaby. Hunk wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep.

But he woke up to his name being called in a hoarse voice. He blinked, surprised to find himself on the couch. The memories of the day before came flooding back along with the sharp pain of a hangover’s headache. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “Pidge?”

“Hunk. Why. Am. I. On the floor?” she grumbled.

“I don’t remember.” She sat up and leaned her head against the couch’s armrest looking at Hunk. Her hair was a frizzed mess, her eyes puffy with sleep, pale with the sickness of a hangover. “Well you look like a little angel after drinking, don’t you?” She glared at him and he chuckled before groaning at the throbbing in his head.

“Oh God, I completely forgot to text Matt that I wouldn’t be home. He must be worried sick.” She pulled out her phone and frowned when she found it was dead. “Mm. Great.”

“Go ahead and charge it with mine. I’ll make us food so we can maybe not die.”

He stood as Pidge stumbled up after him. “God, can you imagine? Defender of the universe, died of alcohol consumption.” He laughed at her and shook his head. She sat on the stool by the mini bar and watched as he started taking out eggs and spam. He stopped for a second to give her water and some aspirin. “Oh thank God. Thank you,” she said, taking the medicine gratefully.

She watched him cook, her head on the counter, too tired to talk. He set a plate with her food out for her and sat beside her. “I can’t even pinpoint at what point I decided to just pass out,” he said.

“You were half asleep since we got here, you lightweight.”

“I’m the lightweight?” he asked incredulously. “You were giddy off of three amaretto sours and less than half of that margarita.”

“All consumed within a short span of time,” she pointed out. “Besides, I wasn’t really drunk till that second shot of scotch hit me during our game.” She finished her food and pushed her phone towards him. “Number. I’m not losing track of you after today.” Hunk smiled and put the number in her phone and saved it. “I should get home. Matt’s gonna kill me, even if I am an adult.”

Hunk nodded and walked with her to the door. “Hey,” he said as she pinned her hair back to tame the frizz. “It really was great to see you again. And I really hope it’s not the last time.”

“It won’t be,” she promised. She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her off the floor as he hugged her. “There’s no way I’m losing my best friend again.” He smiled and sighed and he hugged her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her again either. “I’ll text you when I get to Matt’s, okay?”

“Okay. Be careful.”

She held up her arm in an arch, making her bicep flex. “Come on. You know me.” She smiled and waved before disappearing down the hall. Hunk really hoped he would be able to see her again. And that maybe this meant they could be able to find the others too. He missed Lance.

The drive to Matt’s seemed excessively long and incredibly awkward. The drive hadn’t seemed so bad the day before but it was almost twice the distance this time. When she finally made it back, she opened the door and found her brother watching TV leisurely. “Hey,” she said timidly.

“Katie, young lady, where have you been?” he demanded in a stern voice.

“Matt, I’m so-” She faltered when he turned and gave her a shit-eating grin. “Ugh, you jerk.”

“How was the walk of shame? Didn’t he have the decency to at least bring you home?”

Katie frowned and discarded her jacket before leaning over her brother. “What are you talking about? There was no walk of shame. We went to his place and got drunk watching Friends.” He raised an eyebrow. “Matt, it’s not like that with Hunk. He’s my best friend.”

He hummed and shrugged. “If you say so. Still he could’ve brought you home.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Hungry?”

“No,” she called back. “Hunk made breakfast before I came back.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em, Katie.” She stopped and turned back to her brother who was watching the television with a smirk.

Click here for Chapter 2

[vanteism]

jin as your boyfriend

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i think my heart melted :’) you guys are welcome to send in requests!!!!! the more the merrier :^)

[hqrarepairexchange]

What A Cute Cat!

(This will be posted to ao3 It’s just being very slow and won’t let me post right now) Recipient: http://ryekamasaki.tumblr.com/

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou/ Sawamura Daichi/ Sugawara Koushi

Word count: 1140

Kuroo groaned into his coffee cup. The sun was too bright but the air too cold for the college student. He was on his way back to his dorm from his morning class (‘Seriously Tetsurou, who takes morning classes? ever?’). If he hadn’t been staring at the ground to avoid contact with the sun he wouldn’t have seen it.

It was small and graceful. Covered in white fur and with big blue eyes. It’s tail flicked back and forth and it walked toward Kuroo. It rubbed against his leg and made a quiet ‘Mew’ type noise. Kuroo was, despite his outward appearance, quite the intelligent boy. He didn’t struggle when it came to learning the material and had one of the highest grades in his classes. Maybe it was the tiredness that coffee couldn’t fix, maybe it was the sun messing with his, maybe it was the fact finals were in 2 weeks and he was not ready. But he looked at the small creature and said in a high pitched voice “You’re a kitty!”

And somehow it warranted him squatting down to pet the beautiful feline. It simply purred in appreciation. He played with the cat for a few minute before he heard a voice. It was pretty, almost sounded like bells to Kuroo, but it was almost masculine which was a nice surprise.

“Bean! Bean where are you?” Kuroo looked up to see a boy with pale silver hair looking around frantically holding a tin of cat food. The beauty purring at his feet looked up and seemingly debated if food was more important than attention. Kuroo decided to be a good civilian and scoop the cat, presumably named Bean, and walked over to the boy.

“Are you looking for this?” He asked as Bean mewed in confusion. The silver haired boy looked up and gasped.

“Yes! Oh my god thank you! We’d get in so much trouble if she was seen by our RA,” he laughed. “We can’t lose our little moneymaker on campus now can we”

He gingerly took her from Kuroo’s arms and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. He looked up at Kuroo and smiled.

“I’m Sugawara Koushi, but please just call me Suga. Are you busy? I’d like to thank you for finding Bean.”

—

It seemed like weeks ago that exchange happened, but here he was. In Sugawara’s and Sawamura’s room trying to nap with Bean purring on his chest. He could vaguely hear the other two talking.

“Suga it’s like he also lives here. He needs to start paying rent as well as the fee for cuddling with the cat”

“Daichi we don’t even pay rent, that’s covered by student loans.”

Kuroo chuckled at the conversation. Bean purred in agreement. Sugawara and Daichi have been raising Bean ever since they found her as a kitten in high school. They couldn’t leave her behind when they went to college so they smuggled her in, keeping her a little secret. They has decided to use her calming charms to make a quick buck, secretly marketing her as a stress reliever. Ten dollars for an hour to cuddle and play with her. In the past few weeks Kuroo think’s he’s spent more money on Bean then he has on coffee.

Sometimes he’d cuddle with her and talk to the other two, they were both super friendly. All three played volleyball and Kuroo got to boast about how his team had gone to nationals, that is until the other two stated they made it to finals in nationals. Kuroo had lost in the semi-finals against Itachiyama Academy. He almost felt like he was in the presence of gods when they admitted they were from Karasuno.

Apart from being friendly both boys were extremely attractive. Daichi had both arms and thighs he wouldn’t mind choking him. He may have seen him in only a towel once and was blessed by the sight of Sawamura Daichi’s abs. Where he had a very fit look about him Suga had a smaller frame and overall thinner look. He had a bit of a squishy stomach from eating too many sweets. Daichi was a cultural studies major while Suga was a culinary major. When Kuroo admitted he was a Biology major they asked him all sort of questions about it, and in turn he asked questions about their majors.

Suga liked to make Kuroo try all sorts of foods he’s tried making, specifically baked goods, there was always a cake in the dorm. Daichi liked to make sure Kuroo wasn’t overworking himself. When Suga wasn’t home Daichi would give Kuroo a massage, somehow knowing how to get all the kinks in his back out.

The roommates continued their discussion while Kuroo tried to return back to his nap.

“Do you think he’s gay?” Suga’s voice asked.Kuroo felt more inclined to listen now.

“Suga i’ve seen him wear flannel one day and then an oversized cardigan the next day.”

“That’s stereotyping!” “Still! Straight boys don’t do that, name one time you’ve seen Tanaka wear a cardigan.”

“Tanaka is bi and he’s worn Kiyoko’s cardigan before.”

“Okay, then I have a more solid piece of evidence.”

“Oh what’s that, his hair style? The fact he wears eyeliner.”

“No, I know his ex boyfriend.” Daichi said bluntly, Suga gasped over dramatically. He quickly lowered his voice into a hushed whisper.

“Who?”

“Oikawa.”

“Ew.” Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh. Both boys looked over at him with embarrassed expressions, but Kuroo just laughed.

“Yes, I’m gay.” Kuroo smirked amusedly at them.

“Hey same.” was Suga’s reply.

“I have a question, by the way,” Kuroo glanced up, not being able to sit due to the cat on his chest. “Are you two dating?”

They both looked sheepishly at each other before Daichi cleared his throat.

“It's….complicated but yeah.”

“Complicated?”

“Well uh,” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck. “The two of us kind of identify as polyamorous. So while we do really love each other it’s just…”

“We want more…” Suga finished, almost sounding regretful. It kind of hurt Kuroo to hear that.

“What kind of person are you looking for?” He asked them.

“Ah! Well, we kind of have someone in mind but we only just learned that they’re gay,” Daichi began rambling, Suga looked embarrassed. Rightfully so as Kuroo knew exactly who they were talking about immediately. He decided to cut Daichi off.

“Can I take you guys out for dinner?” He asked simply. Daichi turned red while sputtering out a response. Suga beamed at him.

“Really? Like as a date?”

“Yeah, as a date. I’ve never really dated two people before though so… “

“We can talk about it.” Suga smiles at him. “All good relationships are founded on talking to one another.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright.”

—

I Hope you enjoyed this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it!!

[longislandweekly-blog]

A weekend trip in the new Chevy Blazer

The shapely and sporty 2019 Chevrolet Blazer RS handles like a dream on the winding mountain roads of the Hudson River Valley. (Talisman Photo)

Only a short drive away, the Hudson River Valley boasts beauty and fun all year long. On a recent sisters weekend away, I had the opportunity to spend time in Hyde Park, Stone Ridge, Rhinebeck and other towns in the area and can’t think of a better location for a leisurely getaway. I also had the opportunity to drive Chevy’s new Blazer and can’t think of a better car to explore the artsy, mountainous villages of the Hudson River Valley in.

Our trip began as most road trips do—by loading luggage into the car, or in this case, the stylish crossover SUV. The cargo area of the Blazer is equipped with a rail that slides forward and backward and locks in place. This ingenious feature is great for keeping a suitcase or two in place during a long drive and perfect for keeping grocery bags or sports equipment from rolling around during day-to-day activities.

The Culinary Institute of America’s American Bounty Restaurant serves up charred citrus salad with arugula and endive, turmeric Greek yogurt and an Aperol vinaigrette.

Welcome to the CIA

Hyde Park is known as the hometown of Franklin D. Roosevelt. His Springwood Estate, the FDR Presidential Library and Museum, as well as the Vanderbilt Mansion, are preserved as National Historic Sites just two hours away in Dutchess County. You know what else is just two hours away? The Culinary Institute of America.

The CIA, as it is affectionately known as, is a four-year college and culinary school where the top restaurateurs of the country graduate from. The Hyde Park campus operates four public restaurants, including American Bounty, a contemporary farm-to-table restaurant with a focus on regional ingredients.

The lunch menu features dishes Roasted Sage Kobocha Gnocchi, Charred Citrus Salad and Grilled American Beef Wagyu Culotte, which are as beautiful to the eyes as they are delicious to the taste buds. The desserts—Warm Caramelized Apple, Chocolate Mousse Cake and Tres Leches Panna Cotta—are miniature works of art on a plate.

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Students at the CIA get hands-on experience at the restaurants and are constantly making connections between different areas of study. A student with a background in engineering named Joe sagely related the MAYA principle—Most Advanced, Yet Acceptable—to food design and car design. The father of industrial design Raymond Loewy developed this blueprint for delivering the future gradually and palatably to the masses.

“It’s this idea that the newest best thing that’s going to appeal to the most people is a balance between the furthest you can go without scaring people away,” Joe said. “I’m sure it’s a lot with car design too, the balance between aesthetics and use.”

The Chevy Blazer fits this principle perfectly. Designer Steve McCabe and his team endeavored to edge Chevy design into the future with sporty styling choices not typically seen on SUVs. The design turns heads—in a good way. 

Chef Bruce Mattel, senior associate dean of culinary arts at the CIA, also added to the concept of how far one can go with food design.

“If you’re too avant garde with food, some people are going to be intimidated,” he said, and this principle is reflected in the dishes he serves with innovative flavor combinations, a focus on texture interplay and artful plating that enhances the dining experience.

American Bounty changes its menu seasonally. There’s no excuse not to journey there quarterly to check out what new flavors they have in store.

Chill out with a good book or play board games with the other guests at Hasbrouck House in the warm and inviting Club Room. (Photo by Emma Tuccillo/Hasbrouck House)

Home Away From Home

Hasbrouck House has everything you could want in a weekend getaway. Established in 1757, the Dutch Colonial stone mansion is hidden among the trees of Stone Ridge, NY, and offers modern, luxury accommodations in a historic setting.

Guest rooms, lofts and suites are dispersed between the main building, the Stable House and the Carriage House, in addition to a private house called The Cottage. Though featuring the same soothing color palette, rich furnishings, large windows, Frette linens and goose down pillows, no two rooms are alike.

My favorite touches are the in-room Nespresso machines, Aesop toiletries and heated marble floors in the bathroom.

During your stay, I recommend booking an appointment with one of Hasbrouck House’s massage therapists or yoga instructors in the Wellness Room. A yoga session with Pepper will give you the opportunity to check in with yourself and feel more relaxed and renewed than you may have thought possible.

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The 50-acre property contains walking trails down to a private lake. It’s a lovely walk even with snow on the ground to get some fresh air and quietude.

For dining, you need look no further than Butterfield, the in-house restaurant and bar. Ingredients are locally sourced and the dishes epitomize farm-to-table cuisine. Simplicity is key and no more evident than in the shishito peppers appetizer. The tender peppers when blistered and sprinkled with coarse mustard salt are perfection.

After dinner, you can spend some time with a drink by the fireplace in the Club Room, or play a round of pool or darts in the Game Room downstairs. The arcade game machine, loaded with classics like Pac-Man and Asteroids, is a fun bonus. These are the best spaces to interact with other guests of the house.

Every guest is treated like a VIP at Hasbrouck House, a true gem of the Hudson River Valley.

McCabe relates pottery design to car design. (Talisman Photo)

Make your mark

Nearby Rhinebeck has a flourishing arts and culture scene. Dive right in at Hudson Valley Pottery and Ceramics School.

Most of us have worked with clay in elementary school, whether it was making pinch pots or small sculptures. It’s easy to forget how much fun it is unless you’ve gone back to it as an adult and realize that ceramics is as much an art as a craft.

At a class at the pottery studio, we were given a tutorial on hand-building a mug, then unleashed on the clay and tools to bring our individual visions to life. Hand-building is good for beginners, while using the wheel requires more practice and skill. Everyone in the class enjoyed the time spent the studio and look forward to seeing our finished projects post-firing and glazing.

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Though it may seem unexpected, clay is an integral part of the car-design process. Following the initial sketches, clay sculptors make small models of the car. Changes in the surfacing are made and rendered back into a digital form. Later, a scale model is made with clay where designers can see if those lines and curves that looked great on the small model still look great life-sized.

McCabe credits the clay sculptors he works with with making him look good. Curves that read to the consumer’s eye as simple and sleek are actually the result of a complex collaborative process between artists.

McCabe also notes that clay is easy to work with, relatively inexpensive and recyclable, which makes it the perfect material for auto design as well as good choice for a hobby.

Make an appointment at Hudson Valley Pottery for a private lesson, or open studio time if you’ve got some experience under your belt. Judi Esmond and her wonderful staff will help you tap into your creative side.

Lead Creative Designer Steve McCabe highlights unique design features of the Blazer. (Talisman Photo)

Form and Function

‘Form follows function,’ the foundational principle associated with architecture and industrial design that states the shape of a building should primarily related to its intended purpose, can also be applied beyond those fields. In food, the form is the visual and the function is the taste. No chef wants to sacrifice good flavor solely to improve the look of the meal. In pottery, a beautiful-looking mug with an uncomfortable-to-hold handle is not functional for its intended purpose. Examples can be found all around.

The Chevy Blazer sports this principle perfectly in its interior with round vents. According to McCabe, there was a big debate during the design process whether to do a rectangular or a trapezoidal shape, or a round shape reminiscent of the Camaro, which the Blazer was modeled after.

In order to justify using an older vent style, the design team decided to make it functional. The round rim acts as the temperature control, making for an intuitive and slightly futuristic design feature. It was the first thing I noticed when I sat in the driver’s seat—my hand went straight for the vent instinctively.

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“From a styling standpoint, we’ve reached ahead a little,” McCabe said.

The Blazer is offered in the signature model, the sporty RS and, for the more formal buyer, the Premiere.

“The RS captures that sports car personality. We injected that Camaro DNA into it,” McCabe said.

As a young father, he feels he’s created an exciting loophole in the market—a bold, dynamic, responsive sports car with the spaciousness and features of a family-oriented SUV that he’s not ashamed to put a car seat and stroller in.

“I can get the best of both worlds with this vehicle,” he said, another place where form meets function.

Drive around and take in the scenery of the Hudson River Valley. (Talisman Photo)

Exploring The Hudson River Valley

Each hamlet of the Hudson River Valley has a personality all its own. Woodstock’s bohemian spirit is fun to explore. The friendly staff at Hasbrouck House can show you the route that takes you over the Ashokan Reservoir, where you can park the car and take pictures of the scenery.

Fruition Chocolate, which is available at Hasbrouck House, has its storefront on Tinker Street in Woodstock, where you can sample the small batch, handcrafted, bean-to-bar chocolates and bring a few bars home as souvenirs.

Also stop into the Garden Café, a vegan restaurant and juice bar on Old Forge Road, and try the Indian chickpea blinis with cashew date chutney—little savory pancakes packed with flavor that redefine what a pancake can be.

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To get away from it all or get some of that adventure you’ve been craving, spend a day hiking, biking or climbing at Mohonk Preserve. The mission of the sprawling nature preserve is to protect the Shawangunk Mountains region and inspire people to care for, explore and enjoy their natural world.

The Chevy Blazer handles amazingly well on windy, snowy mountain roads and has a tighter than expected turning radius, which stands up to the test on New Paltz’s angular, often one-way, streets.

New Paltz is another fun destination while you’re in the area. Lagusta’s Luscious offers artisanal chocolates in flavors like tahini cream and thyme preserved lemon sea salt caramel, while its sister cafe, Commissary, makes a mean cheese plate.

To cap off the weekend, visit the Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art on the SUNY New Paltz campus. In addition to its permanent collection, works by Angela Dufresne and an exhibition celebrating the 150th anniversary of the founding of Mohonk Mountain House are on display through mid-July.

Spend a leisurely weekend away in the Hudson River Valley. Learn more about the Culinary Institute of America, Hasbrouck House, Hudson River Pottery and the new Chevrolet Blazer, an SUV with the DNA of the Camaro. A weekend trip in the new Chevy Blazer Only a short drive away, the Hudson River Valley boasts beauty and fun all year long.

[loribos]

New Post has been published on Toronto Events, Activities and Entertainment

New Post has been published on http://www.torontonicity.com/2017/03/03/recipe-for-change-2017-culinary-night-benefits-foodshare/

Recipe for Change 2017 Culinary Night Benefits FoodShare

By Lory Diaz

Recipe for Change 2017, FoodShare‘s 8th annual fundraiser presented by Tangerine, took place on February 23, 2017 at the St. Lawrence Market’s south tent. Torontonicity was lucky enough to be invited again to smell, taste, and experience the delicious mouthfuls created by 30 local chefs, vintners, and brewers. It was a packed event as guests filled their bellies in support of the many food literacy and community programs FoodShare assists across Toronto.

Barque: Pommery pulled pork 3-bite sliders: If you haven’t been to either of Barque’s Roncesvalles locations, read here about my last visit with Food Nook Tours . You can read all about my love of their delicious 299 dry rub wings.

Porcelana chocolates from SOMA Chocolatemaker

Cynthia Leung and David Castellan of SOMA Chocolatemakers: they had three featured chocolates available to guests, with each more flavourful and decadent than the last: pomegranate molasses meltaway, Southbrook vineyard truffle, and their award-winning Porcelana made with 70% dark chocolate from Venezuela, that could easily pass for a milk chocolate. SOMA is always decadent, flavourful, and they never disappoint!

Chef Liu of Dailo was back with a vegetarian pumpkin dumpling: soy brown butter sauce, white rabbit candy glaze, an pepita crumble.

Serrano Ham Pincho from Barsa Taberna

If you haven’t checked out Barsa Taberna on Market Street, you can read about my visit here! Chef Andres Salomon started in May of last year and has made some serious changes to their menu. He brought Pinchos three ways: serrano ham with figs and almonds, whipped goat cheese with cucumber and (absolutely delicious and refreshing) pickled raisins, and chicken liver pate with pomegranate and pistachio.

The sisters from Sweet Carnival Cakes baked Callebaut (Belgian) chocolate ganache brownies with salted caramel drizzle and caramel corn crunch.

Monforte waffles from Monforte Dairy at Recipe for Change 2017

The cutest garden-like display serving up Monforte Dairy sheep cheese, with waffle cone, compressed root cellar apple and basil oil, as well as a simple spoonful of sheep cheese accompanied by flavoured salt meant to elevate the tasting experiencing.

The Art Gallery of Ontario’s FRANK chef, Renee Bellefeuille, created a colourful vegetarian poke bowl with sticky soy bean, chia seeds, pickled vegetables, miso-yuzu dressing and fried taro. This was one of the top dishes of the night for me, because of how vibrant, refreshing, and clean the flavours were. It was also nice to know that there were delicious vegetarian options available for guests.

The crowd enjoys the wide variety of food offerings at Recipe for Change 2017

Head sponsor, Tangerine, made these lighting boxes available so guests could take the perfect picture of their perfect bites. Everyone enjoyed using them!

Pai Northern Thai Kitchen: spicy grilled pork jowl salad: nice burst of flavour, slightly sweet, with great spice. Only downfall to the lettuce wrap approach is that it tended to fall apart, but with a napkin in hand the messiness was manageable.

The Pizzeria Libretto chef Rocco Agostino brought shrimp cappelletti with celeriac (also known as knob celery) broth!

Silent Auction items at Recipe for Change 2017

Aside from drinking and eating ‘til your hearts content, there is a silent auction that takes place throughout the night. Guests can bid on fantastic dining experiences, kitchenware, cosmetics, perfumes, and family-fun packages, knowing that their bids are supporting food literacy in Toronto. My favourite bidding item of the night was the Good Food Machine vertical gardening hydroponic system. FoodShare is working to ensure that informative workshops and resources are made available to the ten schools in Toronto that now have their very own hydroponic towers.

Hydroponic Tower from Good Food Machine

Gushi Chicken from Shinji Yamaguchi at Recipe for Change 2017

Shinji Yamaguchi’s Gushi (fried) chicken had guests coming back for seconds.

Another delicious vegetarian option from Loka’s chef Dae Mottershall: pan roasted mushrooms, truffled potato, and deer lichen. So delicate, beautiful, and delicious!

Passion fruit cream filled chouquettes from The Tempered Room

Bertrand Alepee of The Tempered Room had the loveliest passion fruit cream-filled chouquettes! The pastry itself was light and airy, allowing the strong and juicy flavours of the passion fruit to delight your entire mouth. This was summer in pastry form!

Propeller was serving up some smooth cups of coffee for guests, and I went for a classic latte.

Duck heart tocilog from Hawthorne Food and Drink

I can say, without a single doubt, that my number one pick of the night was Hawthorne Food and Drink’s chef, Ricky Casipe’s duck heart tocilog: duck heart tocino (Spanish bacon), soy cured yolk, puffed wild rice, with garlic chips. The puffed wild rice had a wonderful texture, and created such a fantastic bed for the nuanced flavours of the hearts. I’m excited to visit the restaurant and see what else chef Casipe has created.

Salt Fish Fritters from Bendale Business & Technical Institute

The Bendale Business & Technical Institute students were back with salt fish fritters and ackee spinach ragout. I found out that the greens used for the ragout were grown in the school garden! I spoke to the culinary arts teacher, Darren Beer, about the value and support FoodShare brings to schools by allowing students the opportunity to learn technical and life skills by seeing through the entire garden-to-plating process. This is another reminder that not only is Recipe for Change fun, delicious, and exciting, but also a great fundraiser for a great cause making a real difference. Please don’t hesitate to attend next year, and put some support behind this important cause!