#but i wanted a cheesecake to eat tonight & i had ingredients at home

[1800kfics]

Late Night Visits

Seo Changbin x reader (preestablished relationship)

You visit your boyfriend in the studio because you miss him :(

for mature audiences only! mdni

wc: 2k

"I'll be home late tonight, I'm still in the studio with Han and Chan."

You sigh as you place your phone down on the kitchen counter in your shared apartment. You had gotten enough dinner ingredients out for two people, but begrudgingly went to put away his half. You knew you should be happy that creativity is flowing in the studio, but they've been making a new album and the late nights without Changbin have felt like eternity.

After finishing your dinner alone, you open your phone to ask Changbin when he will be home. 

“Probably not until after midnight. Don’t wait up, go to bed when you’re tired, but don’t get too comfortable without me. Sorry :(“

You flick your eyes up to the corner of your phone, which reads 10:23pm. You frown at your phone for a bit, before deciding to actually do something about it. You grab your keys and head to the studio unannounced.

You enter the JYP building and wait for the elevator. While you do, a figure appears beside you. You see Chan in your peripheral vision holding a plastic bag.

“Chan! How are you?” You turn and ask. 

“I’m good, thanks. How are you? Are you here to visit Changbin?” He replies.

As the elevator door opens, you both walk in, and you continue, “I’m great, thanks. Yeah, I came in because Changbin said you guys would be working late and to be honest it’s a little boring at home without him. I promise I won’t get in your way.”

“No, no! You never get in our way. Whenever you come around Changbin actually works better. It’s a pleasure to have you here.” He says as he smiles brightly at you as the elevator door dings open and swiftly walks out.

When Chan opens the door for you two, you see Han laying down on the couch and Changbin sitting in the empty spot next to him, staring intensely at a piece of paper, not bothering to look up. He looked frustrated.

“Did you get the cheesecake I asked for?” Han asked as he shot up at the bag in Chan’s hand.

Chan lifted the arm with the bag, “Yes, you’re lucky they were still open. We have to eat in the cafe though, I don’t want anyone to make a mess in our studio.” He waves Han to come outside with him.

“Oh, hi!” Han says as he squeezes past you through the door frame, shutting the door behind him.

At that, Changbin looks up. His frame softens. “You’re here?” He says as he lightly beckons you over. You walk across the room and stand in front of him. He silently wraps his arms around your waist, and you stay there for a moment, with your hands draping over his shoulder blades.

“I missed you.” He mumbles from somewhere below you.

You run your fingers through his hair and respond, “I missed you too”, smiling to yourself.

He lets go of you and looks up. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

You break his gaze and start knocking your knee against his.

You begin, “I missed your company, it was boring in the house without you.”

“Come here and say that.” He says as he taps his thigh twice, smirking out of the side of his mouth.

You follow his orders and lower yourself onto his lap.

“Good girl, look at you doing as I say. Now go on, continue. What else?” He says, staring into your eyes.

“Well,” you start, suddenly nervous, “Since you weren’t home, I didn’t really know what to do… and I don’t mean to bother you at work, but-” You stop as you feel him lightly grab your thigh through your pants. You now understand what type of visit this would be.

He uses your silence to lead the conversation. “What would we have done if I were home?”

You take a second to think. Your eyes begin to wander, but his are on you the whole time. Intrusive thoughts of the night before flood into your head.

His tongue lapped at your folds as his hands held your thighs open. Your hands desperately wanting to tug on his locks of hair, but unable to due to the restraint of his belt being wrapped around your wrists.

This all happens in a matter of seconds, but you feel yourself grow wet on top of him. You hope he doesn’t notice.

You finally begin to answer his question. “Well… I would make dinner for us… then we would watch that show we started last week… then… I don’t know.” You clearly begin to get antsy.

He leans back and continues to toy with you. “No idea at all? Let me give you a hint: what usually happens when we’re around each other?”

You hesitantly continue, “Well… we usually have sex.” He smiles, and you know that’s what he was expecting you to say.

He gets even more comfortable in his seat. “Exactly. I come home, you’re all needy, and I have to take care of my pretty girl.” He pulls you closer to him by your hips. “Is that what you came here for? You couldn’t wait?”

You frantically try to defend yourself. “No! I promise I just wanted to see you.” You don’t sound convincing - to the point where you’re not convinced that’s even the truth anymore.

He pushes it, “So if I tell you to ride my thigh right now you wouldn’t? Because that’s not what you’re here for, right?”

You stay silent. He takes that silence as a green light to move forward.

He guides your hands onto his shoulders, and moves one leg from under you out to the side. You wiggle around until you’re comfortably balanced on him. You then slowly start moving yourself up and down the expanse of his thigh, mentally wincing at the feeling of your clothed crotch rubbing against his rough pant material. In a few moments, the feeling of friction began to feel nice. Every once in a while he’ll tense up his thigh and you’ll whimper at the added friction. “‘Bin, please…”

He doesn’t know where to put his hands. They travel from your hips to your ass and back. “Does it feel good baby? Do I feel good?” He taunts.

You can’t take it anymore, and you’re nearing your high. You answer him by smashing your lips against his. You kiss him sloppily, rushed even, like he was going to disappear into thin air once you pull away.

With your escalated grinding, and his firm grip pulling you down on his thigh - creating even more friction - you unravel. You finally let go of the knot in your stomach and continue to ride out your high, rocking less and less each time until you finally stilled on top of him. You scoot forward to be able to wrap your arms around his neck and slump your head against his collarbone.

After a few moments, Changbin is the one to speak first. “Is my baby too tired? Can you do it for me again before the boys get back?” He asks, “Because there’s a little problem.”

Before you could question what it was, he gently pushed his hips up and you immediately realized what the problem was. He was hard.

You shake your head and pull yourself away from him to look up at his face. He smiles and kisses you softly. He slithers his arms around your waist and holds you tight. You’re confused by this, until you feel him stand up, bringing you with him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses you again then lets you down. He goes back in, lips colliding with yours as guides you to the armrest of the couch.

“Now is my baby going to do as I say again?” He says, making eye contact intense enough to make anyone break. You nod and he follows up with, “Then bend over and let me fuck you.”

Your eyes go wide at his brazenness. Not wanting to waste any time, however, you quickly lower yourself over the side of the couch into a somewhat-comfortable position.

He leans forward and traps your body under his. Nipping at your neck, you feel him unzip your pants. Once he’s satisfied with his new work of art on your neck, he pulls your pants and panties down to hang off your ankle in one swoop.

You then hear another zipper - his - followed by the light rustling of clothes and you start squirming slightly in anticipation. He steps forward and stills you with one hand, the other rubbing the swell of your ass. He spreads one of your cheeks, and retracts his other hand so he can start rubbing himself up and down your folds, allowing his member to get covered in your juices.

He finally sticks his tip in, giving you a split second to adjust before pushing the rest in. Already wet from the first time you came, he had no resistance. You let out a moan into the cushion of the couch at the sudden fullness. 

He simultaneously let out a groan. As much as he liked watching your pretty face contort from the feeling of him filling you up, he also loved watching himself slipping in and out of your insatiable pussy.

He sets a steady pace, fucking into you ruthlessly while occasionally placing slaps on your ass, enjoying the light whimpers that you released upon impact.

You feel yourself getting close, and you involuntarily clench. He lets out a guttural “fuuuck”, and you feel him lean forward again onto your back. He hooks his chin into the crook of your neck. You can feel his hot breath against your cheek as he starts to speak at just above a whisper.

At this point he’s gripping onto your love handles so tightly you’re sure his fingertips are white.

“Missed me so much you had to come pay me a studio visit, huh? Making me use you while the guys are out… you don’t want them to walk in and see you like this, do you?”

His dirty talk paired with his balls slapping against your clit sends you over the edge. “God…” you let out breathily.

“God? Close, but darling, Changbin works just fine.” You can hear him scoff behind you, but you know he’s close too from the way his thrusts are becoming sloppy.

As you reach your high, he pounds through it, chasing his own. Once you’ve ridden yours out, you wince slightly at the overstimulation. He cums moments after you, letting out a broken moan in the process.

Before any of his cum could leak out of you, he positioned your panties and pants onto your other ankle and pulled them up. “None of the boys need to know that I just filled you up, okay babe? Just go home and clean yourself up for me, I’ll be there before you know it.”

You push yourself up off the couch with your arms, albeit feeling like jelly. Changbin adjusts himself in his pants and you zip up your own when the door swings open.

Han walks in, seeing your unzipped pants and freshly bloomed hickeys on your neck. He freezes in the doorway. “What are you doing, man, move.” Chan says, pushing past him. He didn’t piece together what had just happened like Han clearly had. Chan took his seat in front of the mixing boards where he left his laptop and began working.

Han, however, continued to eye the two of you up. In order to save you from any further embarrassment, Changbin decided to send you off. “I’ll see you at home, love.” He says, planting a kiss on your cheek. Ironic how he could be so sweet like he didn’t just crack you open with his dick moments before.

You give Han a half smile as you walk by him. On your way out, you hear Changbin say “Not there.” You spin your head around just in time to see Han jump up from the couch cushion you were just being pounded into. “Jesus man…” He says to Changbin with a chuckle, scratching his head.

You laugh lightly to yourself about the situation and head out.

On your way home, your phone lights up. It was a text from Changbin.

I hope I wasn’t too hard on you tonight. See you at home. Miss you already :)

[the-brown-man]

Made my first no bake cheesecake in like 8 years

[luckydii]

Traditional Habits

(Chapter 1)

☆

Beelzebub has been helping you get rid of your sexist habits. It doesn't seem like you made any progress.

☆

Today was your turn to be the chef in the House of Lamentation; your favorite day. Even though most demonic dishes were made of ingredients that could only be found in The Devildom. You always make your dishes out of ingredients that belong on the human world. Lucifer made an arrangement with Diavolo to deliver human food down to Devildom so you can feel more comfortable when cooking.

Every time it was your turn to cook, you would make food from your culture, or something new from a recipe you found on Tik Tok.

Today's special was breaded chicken with red spaghetti, and for dessert a churro cheesecake.

You swore if the demon brothers didn't keep up with themselves you would've already fatten them up. Especially the oldest twin of the house. Your favorite day was also his. Beel was a sucker for your food.

He enjoyed it too much to the point where he would throw small tantrums because you weren't cooking. You would find his tantrums cute if it didn't mean almost killing the chef of the day.

You tied your floral decorated apron around your waist, and went on your D.D.D to play your cooking playlist.

Beelzebub heard the loud music from the living room. He already knew he was gonna eat good tonight.

A smile was drawn to his lips, and a growl from his stomach was heard. Specifically by Belphie since he had his head on his twin's lap.

The youngest slowly fluttered his eyes open. He groaned and sat up, laying down again but the opposite way this time. His legs were on Beel's lap. He nudge him with his foot. "Go get something to eat." He mumbled.

"Sorry for waking you up, Belphie. Want anything?" Beel stood up from the couch and took a big cat stretch.

"I want sleep."

The orange-head nodded with a smile and left his brother to sleep.

He walked inside the kitchen to catch you dancing and singing to your music. You moved in perfect rhythm.

You already had the spaghetti noodles in the stove. There were two big casseroles and a medium one that only had water in it. One of the big ones were for the six brothers to share and the other one for Beel.

"What are you making today?" Beel asked out of the blue. Startling you, almost making you drop the rinsed tomatoes you were putting on the medium casserole.

"You know, for a big guy you sure have silent footsteps." You pat his hard stomach and chuckle.

The demon leaned down to your height. "I'm making breaded chicken with red spaghetti. And for dessert is a churro cheesecake." You smiled up at him before carefully dropping the tomatoes on the boiling water.

"What is that?"

"What's what?"

"A churro cheesecake."

You laughed at his attempt to roll his R's.

As you started cracking fifteen eggs in a bowl you explained to him what the dish was. "Do you remember those brown sticks I gave you? The ones that were covered in cinnamon and sugar?" He nodded his head. "Basically that, but in cheesecake form."

"I thought those were called buñuelos?"

You shook you head as a no. "Buñuelos are hard and crunchy. I usually serve them as flat circles. Churros are soft but still crunchy and come in a stick like form." Beel nodded his head once again.

One day you had made buñuelos as a dessert when it was your turn to be the chef. It was the only time Beel had ever stepped out of the kitchen. The oil in the air made his eyes ache and felt like it was burning them. The oil stopped effecting you a long time ago.

Other times you make dishes with salsa, everyone is coughing and crying over the smell of chile in the air. All of the brothers have complained and asked why you couldn't used hot sauce from the store. You always responded with, "Home made is better."

"Is there anything I can help with?" The demon asked. "Of course. I always have a task for you since you like bothering me." You giggled at Beel's lips that turned into a cute squiggly line.

"Cooking for me usually takes hours, so I want to help you or talk to you so you don't feel burdened."

"You're so kind, Beel."

"I also do it so dinner would start early."

"Of course you do." You laughed loudly at his words. Beel laughed along with you. There was something about your laugh that was contagious. Not only to him, but to the rest of the brothers too.

Your laugh came in different labels. Sometimes you would laugh like a hyena. Other times it would sound like a seal. And at times it sounded like a balloon deflating.

Now don't get it mixed up. Your giggle is cute, but your laughter was on a whole other level.

You pointed at the raw chicken chests that were piled in a plate. It was a couple of dozens. "Grab the rolling pin and flattened them out. Don't bother cleaning them, I already did that earlier." Beel nodded his head. After washing his hands he put himself to work.

Once you were done cracking the eggs you whisked them until it was a yellow liquid. You grabbed the bag that was filled with bread crumbs and six different seasonings out of the seasoning cabinet. You pour the half of the bottles onto a separate plate and mixed them together. You did the same thing to the bread crumbs.

The tomatoes were finally done boiling. You took them out with a wooden spoon, and pour the water down the drain. You replaced it with oil.

"Beel, the ones you flattened passed them through this two plates then put them on the oil, okay?" You pushed the plates closer to him.

"Mhm." He hummed in response.

Meanwhile you're going to work on the sauce.

Three hours passed and dinner was finally ready.

You did a huge cat stretch, accidentally popping some bones. They were very satisfying sounds.

When you were done preparing the sauce, you started working on the cheesecakes. So once everyone was done with dinner, they could eat dessert that was fresh out of the oven. Most of the cheesecakes were done, but since you're feeding Beelzebub the Demon of Gluttony. You had to make many of these.

Beel did the same stretch as you did. "Go tell my brothers the food is ready. I'll serve them." Beel said as he walked towards the cabinets where the plates and cups were stored in. You quickly stopped him by grabbing his arm. "Go sit down. I'll serve you and the rest, okay?" You smiled at him.

He looked at you with a frown. "Y/N we talked about this-"

"I know, but I'm doing this out of kindness. Not old habits."

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. "No. I'll serve them and clean the dishes."

"But-" You tried to protest.

"No."

"Please-"

"No."

You were getting impatient and so was he.

"Beel, just-"

"I said no and that's it." He raised his voice.

"Beelzebub, I'm the woman here! It's my job!" You raised your voice higher.

It took you a few moments to realized what you just said.

"What were you saying about old habits?" The male asked in a rude tone. He turned around and grabbed the plates along with utensils. "Now go tell my brothers the food is ready." You sighed and left the kitchen, not saying anything else.

"It smells so good!!" Asmo exclaimed as he walked into the dining room. "The taste is much better! I promised!" You giggled.

The male dramatically gasped. "Chef Y/N, what have you cooked today with your talented hands?" He walked towards you with his D.D.D pointing at you like it was a microphone. "You'll have to wait and find out." You pulled out his chair for him. "No! I must not wait!" He jogged past you to the kitchen, excited like a little kid.

One by one the rest of the family came in. Beel never served them or you. All of them took their plates by themselves and Mammon served you. Everyone was already eating except you.

"Ah, Y/N, please sit down." Lucifer waved his hand to your seat. You shook your head. "I'll go wait in the kitchen till dessert is finished baking. Beel, you can have my plate." You grabbed your plate and was about to give it to him until he stood up. "Sit down. I'll go wait for it." It was clear he was still upset from what came out of your mouth earlier. He went to the kitchen with his plate and cup on his hands.

Everyone already knew what happened. Every time Beel was mad at you it was always the same reason.

"You said something sexist again, right?" Levi asked. You nodded your head in shame.

Mammon sighed. "What do we have to do so that mindset can finally stay dead, HUH?" You looked down, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

When you first came to Devildom and stayed with the relatives, you would always clean their rooms when they were gone. Satan almost killed you because of that.

You treated yourself as a maid, especially since the house was full of men.

Because of the incident with Satan, he was the first one to figure out why you treated yourself this way. And like every other family, the word got spread around quickly. Everyone thought you were being nice and a stuck up to keep them on their nice side. So when Satan spread around the truth. Everyone was shocked.

Mammon and Beelzebub were the ones that took it a bit too hard.

You were raised in a very sexist household. When you got your first period your mother started treating you like a wife in training. You took care of your siblings every day until you moved out. You weren't even the oldest one. You were the third oldest, but because you were the oldest woman between your siblings, your parents assigned you the role of the second wife.

You heard before that Japanese men were also raised around traditional mindsets like Mexican families, so you expected that it would be the same in The House of Lamentation. But no. All of them encouraged you to relax and let everyone do their part of taking care of the house.

You sat back down and ate your food in silence.

Belphie got up to help Beel get the cheesecakes out of the oven. He knew his twin was gonna eat all of it if no one kept an eye on him.

It was delicious. Everything you made was delicious. Everyone's taste buds were satisfied but yours. Your head was still stuck on the argument of yours and Beel's.

You were the last one to leave the table.

You picked up the empty dishes and went to the kitchen. There you saw Beel cleaning the dirty dishes squeaky clean.

You took a deep breath. "Beel I'm sorry." He didn't look at you. "You can leave the dishes on this side." He completely ignored your apology.

You walked closer to him, leaving the dishes on the sink. You looked up at him in worry. "Beel, I really am sorry." You were about to grab his arm, but he pulled away.

A weird feeling hit your stomach. Tears started forming on your eyes. "Beel, please don't ignore me." You whispered. He finally looked down on you. A painful feeling hit his gut once he stared into your glassy eyes.

He put the dish he was scrubbing down. He lowered himself down to your height and gently squeezed your shoulders with his hands. He has never comforted a friend before, only his siblings, so it was no surprise he didn't know what to do with you.

You completed the embrace yourself. You wrapped his arms around his waist and place your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing the back of your head with his thumb.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." You muffled amongst his chest. Beel sighed. "I overreacted. I'm sorry for ignoring you. It wasn't the best thing to do." He traced his hands to your face, grabbing you by the cheeks, and making you look up at him. "Please, stop degrading yourself. You deserve to be treated with respect." Both his thumbs rubbed your squishy cheeks. "If you allow me. I'll treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

Your face filled itself with warmth. "Are...are you asking me out?" Beel's face turned slightly red.

He nodded his head. "I'll take you out on a date tomorrow after school."

You wanted to jump in excitement. You wanted to squeal like a highschool girl. You wanted to hug him and squeeze him tight.

For some reason you couldn't show how emotional his words truly made you feel. Was it your habits? No, it couldn't be. It wouldn't make sense. There was something stopping you, but you didn't know what it was.

"I would love that." You smiled up at him, showing your teeth in the process.

☆

Sorry if he's ooc. I'm still trying to figure out how to write him 😅

@ohdangitsjay

[rpmusingsforthesoul]

This is Us Season 3 Sentence Starter

( feel free to change pronouns )

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m talking too much. Am I talking too much? ‘Cause I feel like I’m talking too much.”

“Please tell me something about you.”

“Aww damn. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

“Tell him to get the hell off of ___’s cousin before I kill him in the face!”

“Even Gayle let Oprah down sometimes.”

“You can’t come to your birthday party tonight.”

“Okay, no touching, no flirting, and, um, don’t do that thing where you half-smile because it makes me full-smile and she’ll see.”

“Nope, can’t even look at you. Get out again.”

“When is the universe going to give me a damn break?”

“It was lame of me to compare our situations. But it’s only because I really want all of this to work out.”

“I think you’re an exceptional person,___.”

“___ and ___ are doing it. I had to say something.”

“I like talking to you…a lot. You make me feel like I’m home and I’ve never really felt like that before.”

“I’m sorry it was such a lousy first date. I’m really very sorry.”

“It’s a hard no on cats?”

“this wasn’t that kind of date and I’m not that kind of girl. But the way you look at me…wow. I never ever do this.” *leans in for a kiss*

“You said you’d step up and take care of everything, but you lied.”

“It’s a struggle for me to get out of bed every morning. It takes every single ounce of energy that I have and then I have nothing left for the rest of the day. Nothing.”

“Do you have a dream? I’m sorry, is that a stupid question?”

“Why do you want to help me so much all of a sudden?”

“Help me out, ___. So when I said “no boxing”, what about that says, “I should teach ___ how to box”?”

“You, in a nightgown, wearing boxing gloves is a fantasy I didn’t even know that I was missing.”

“You ever get tired of pretending you ain’t plain flat-out scared?”

“Hmm. Where I belong, huh? And where exactly is that, ___? Oh please, you tell me because you would be answering the great mystery of my life, I tell you that.”

“When did complacency become the better option here?

“For the past few weeks I’ve been pretending that I’m fine, but I’m not. I’m not fine.”

“You’re my secret ingredient. You’re the horseradish to my Bloody Mary.”

“You need something besides cheap wine in your stomach. Come on.”

“You’re my favorite sound, of course I hear you.”

“You know what? I’m gonna walk out of this room before you say something else you’re gonna regret.”

“I got Nesquick.”

“Geez,___, How do you ruin chocolate milk?”

“I never got to tell him…that it was an accident.”

“It’s hard to be mad at someone who’s not here anymore. There’s nothing you can do with those feelings. But yeah, yeah I’m mad.”

“__, I asked you. I specifically asked you for one thing today; do not make a mess. You’re gonna clean. You’re gonna clean this all up.”

“I didn’t need this today, ___. I didn’t need it.”

“I know he seems like he has it all. He’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s confident. But deep down he’s still a sensitive little boy.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you. And maybe I’ll see you again.”

“When have we ever listened to the odds?”

“We don’t talk about how incredible you are despite all the crap you were put through.”

“I can’t be me without you. How could I be?”

“Okay….okay…No…because…okay. Will you just get in the car so I can straighten this out?”

“I can’t do it. I can’t go in there. I can’t be in there right now. This is all wrong, he was supposed to be here, I can’t breathe.”

“I don’t want grief counseling, ___. I want to rewind the clock.”

“___, I know you’re in there. Will you open the door?”  

“I really can’t be here right now. I really can’t be anywhere right now.”

“Thanks, ___, for your advice on this private matter.”

“What exactly are you doing here?”

“Stressed out? That’s a casual word. I’m not stressed out, I’m losing my damn mind!”

“Dude, if you’re gonna spiral, go do it somewhere else.”

“Wha-? We’re here for four hours?”

“Kids have never been part of my plan and they never will be.”

“You tend to be the impressive part of the impressions I make.”

“I called you four times. What, did you turn your phone off so you wouldn’t have to deal with me?”

“You know what, ___? You still have that cot in your office? You should go sleep in it. And, here, take this weird-ass purple cheesecake with you.”

“Fine. You wanna do this right now? Let’s do this right now. Close the door.”

“Why would I stand you up? When have I ever not had your back?”

“You’re a lot. And this date was a lot.”

“You’re a very nice guy, but please don’t ever call me again.”

“Well let me put your mind at ease. You don’t need to worry about me proposing again.”

“Admit that you think that your job is more important than mine.”

“I will not be bullied into saying something even more awful to you. I will not speak that way to you. I won’t do it.”

“No, please. I can see your mind working and you looking for the perfect words to make this better. And I don’t want that. I don’t want it.”

“You say the right speech and have the whole world eating out of your palm. Me especially.”

“In what ridiculous universe are you this wallflower that’s just been steamrolled by me?”

“Please do not self-protect by putting this on me.”

“I refuse to be blamed for the fact that you had your awakening twenty years too late.”

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: S/o Going/Is Vegan

A/n: So this was a little cracky but I hope you all like it! (sorry not thoroughly edited) lets be honest the boys have probably been on weird diets so they would probably be chill with it....except for Changbin....cause he loves his meat

Requested by: anonymous 

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @yangomangos​ @hoes4hoseok​ (Tag List is Open)

Chan:

“You’re what now?” 

Your boyfriend asked flopping on the couch. He had come home to you cooking in the kitchen, a new smell filling your apartment. “Vegan.” The asparagus you were sauteeing in a pan smelled incredible...-to you. The substitute butter sizzled around the vegetables. “I noticed I haven’t exactly been eating well with my classes piling up. So, I thought I would just change my diet.”

Chan nodded and walked into the kitchen. You held up a spoon to his mouth letting him taste the food. His lips closed over the metal utensil and you watched him chew. His eyes popped out of his head and he nodded. “It’s so good!” You slapped his hand away from getting more. “Well, you know I’m all for a healthy lifestyle.” 

Chan helped you finish cooking and the two of you sat down to eat. He watched with a smile as you poured yourself a glass of wine and took a sip. You met his stare and smiled. “What?” 

“Did you check if that wine was vegan?” 

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth. “Isn’t all wine vegan?” 

“No,” Chan said with a laugh, sipping on his own wine. 

Grabbing the bottle you scanned every inch of the label. Chan tried to stifle his laughter, creating ripples in red alcohol sitting in his glass. Sighing, you set the bottle down and pushed your glass away making Chan laugh.

“Welp...I don’t know what I’m going to do with the other three bottles I bought.”

“There are cheat days for vegans too.” He wouldn’t stop laughing the rest for the remainder of dinner.

Minho:

“I’m starving; are we there yet?” Minho asked adjusting the cap on his head. 

Your hands swung between the two of you as you strolled through the streets looking for the food district. You had been shopping all day and it was well past lunch. “Should be just around the corner.” Each of you carried bags from various stores, but you felt happiest that his hand was wrapped around yours. 

After a few turns, you arrived on the street full of restaurants. Your eyes scanned the signs looking for something suitable for you to eat. Minho began pointing at random restaurants, delectable aromas floating from their dining rooms. “What about sushi?” 

“Meat.”

“Burgers.”

“Meat.” 

“That place.”

“It’s korean barbeque, babe.”

“YES! The best kind!” You laughed and pulled him further down the savory smelling street. “What about that place?” You shook your head seeing photos of meat-based dishes on their windows. “Y/n, can we eat in the century?” 

Minho trudged behind you, failing to pull you towards a pizza place. “Minho, you know I’m vegan.”

“Yes, I know. You’re a rabbit. But, I want meat.”

Changbin:

“Aren’t you hungry, baby?”

Changbin’s long fingers maneuvered the chopsticks to flip over a few pieces of meat on the grill in the middle of the table. You hadn’t been dating for long. He had invited you to meet him and Chan for dinner and you were not about to pass up time with him. “Um...a little.” 

You watched Changbin and his friend happily chew on the juicy meat. He didn’t seem to notice your visible gulp and the goosebumps crawling over your skin. You were doing your best to ignore the distinct smell of the barbeque. “You want some?” He held a perfectly cooked piece out to you.

“Uh-...no thanks. I’m good. I’m actually vegan.”

Changbin stopped mid-chew. He turned to Chan before looking back at you. “Wait...what does that mean?” Changbin looked genuinely confused, his cheeks still stuffed with food. Chan apologized, flagging down a waiter and asking for something for you to eat. Meanwhile, Changbin still staring at you completely clueless.

“Dude...she doesn’t eat meat or animal products.”

“YOU DON’T EAT MEAT?” His eyes went wide in utter disbelief. It was hard not to laugh. “How do you survive?” 

“It’s actually a really healthy way to live. Plus it’s better for the Earth.”

“But.....meat...” You smiled watching him stare at the plate of vegetables being placed in front of you by the waiter. “Meat....” He whispered again, looking between the grill and you plate.

Hyunjin:

“Y/n, do you have food?” 

Your boyfriend was calling out to you from somewhere in the dressing room. You looked down at the bag of baked veggie chips in your hand. “Yeah! I’m over here, love!” Hyunjin shuffled over, his hair pushed back by a headband and setting powder lining under his cheekbones. “Baked snacks for a baking boy.” You said with a laugh. 

He smiled sitting next to you. He reached over stuffing his hand in the bag and stuffing a few in his mouth without even looking at what it was. You watched his face melt into disgust. “Ew. What is that?” 

Handing him the bag he looked at it like it was something from an alien planet. “It’s baked carrots and other vegetables.”

“Yes....but why....”

“You do remember I went vegan like two weeks ago?”

Hyunjin stared at you for a minute seemingly trying to remember the conversation you had about thirteen days ago. “Wait- so what did you do with the candy I gave you yesterday?” 

He watched you shrug and look around the room. “I gave it Jeongin.”

“You just gave it to Jeongin?”

“Yeah, I can’t have it. I’m serious about this diet.” Hyunjin nodded and continued to stare at the bag of chips in your hand. You were starting to think he had spaced out on you. 

“Does all your food taste that bad?” 

Jisung:

“What’s for lunch, baby?” 

Jisung came up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder as he smiled down at your working hands. “Avocado toast with Roma tomatoes, red onions, and a vegan mayonnaise spread.” 

“That sounds like heaven.” Jisung moaned behind you. 

“It really doesn’t bother you that I’m vegan?” He shook his head and stole a thin slice of the avocado you were cutting. 

“Not really. I mean-... I miss sushi sometimes...and cheesecake. But, I can have all those things at work or on special occasions. I don’t want to argue over a silly thing like this when you are obviously such a good cook regardless.”

You laughed and kissed his lips, backing him up against the counter. Jisung smiled, hands gripping your waist. “You really love me that much?” He nodded and kissed you again. “More than cheesecake?” 

“Sadly...yes.” 

You giggled, playing with the ends of his hair. “Okay, time to eat.” 

Jisung cheered and watched you expertly plate the food. Your hands nimbly worked on delicately placing the avocados atop the other ingredients on the toasted bread. The two of you sat down side by side plates in front of you. You watched Jisung take the first bite, like usual. His eyes lit up before devouring his first piece of avocado toast. 

“Don’t tell Felix...but you’re a better cook than him.” You laughed and lovingly placed your hand on his arm before eating your own lunch.

Felix:

“What are we thinking for dinner tonight?” 

Felix was looking at a shelf further down the aisle from you. Turning back, he watched you shrug. “Um...I don’t know. What about we make vegan burgers?” Beneath the mask Felix was wearing you were certain he was smiling brightly. 

“That sounds good.” He rolled the cart back over to you, tossing a few things in your cart on the way. 

“We could do portabella mushrooms for the patty. Ooo! Do they have avocados?” 

Felix laughed, watching you get excited about food. He was so happy that you loved cooking as much as he did. While he was surprised that you were vegan, he loved exploring new recipes with you. He was still shocked that he could now make so many things that didn’t even have meat or cheese or eggs. 

“Lix, they have red onions on sale! Buy two get one free!” 

His eyes widened seeing you holding two bags of the purple vegetable. “The question is,” Felix began, taking the bags and putting them in the cart. “Do they have vegan cheese here, or do we have to make a second stop?” 

You shrugged, looping your arm through your boyfriend’s as he pushed the cart towards the cheese part of the store. Felix smiled at your little affectionate action. Going grocery shopping with you was always one of his favorite things to do. Granted, it took a huge chunk out of his paycheck because the two of you always got carried away. But, your fridge was always fully stocked and the two of you hadn’t had a bad meal since moving in together. 

“They might have some. I did see a cool recipe for vegan brioche buns. I think we have the stuff for them at home.” 

Felix nodded and pushed the cart towards the checkout. The two of you waited in line, your arms wrapped around his stomach. “I’ll bake, you cook?”

“Deal.”

Seungmin:

“So, you don’t eat meat?”

Seungmin stared at you questioningly. You simply continued to drink your tea as you sat across from your boyfriend in a cafe. “Or cheese. Or eggs. Or milk. Basically any animal products.” Seungmin nodded, trying to wrap his head around the concept. 

“Not even beef?”

Your fingers played with the label on your cup. “No. No, beef.”

“What about steak?” 

“Min, that’s meat.”

He nodded obviously still thinking. “So...” You sighed, ready for my questions. It was tiresome sometimes having to deal with a society that couldn't accept a diet without dead animals in it. “What do you eat?” 

“Plenty of things. I’m actually a pretty good cook.” Seungmin sat on the edge of his chair completely invested in this fascinating topic. “I can make basically any meal you can think with a vegan substitute.” 

“Anything?” Your boyfriend watched you nod. Seungmin took another sip from his coffee. His long fingers drummed across the table. “What about surf and turf?” He laughed seeing you roll your eyes. 

His laughing stopped when you kicked his shin under the table. “You better watch it Mr. I’ll sneak into the dorm and stuff zucchini in your ears.” 

“Not carrots?”

“No, I like carrots.”

Jeongin:

“No meat. At all?” 

Jeongin stared stunned at the bowl in front of him. “Yep.” The metal of his spoon clinked against the white bowl. Unphased you continued to eat the amazing meal you had prepared.

“So...what is this? What are those dark chunks then?” 

“It Eggplant, mushrooms, tofu, and rice noodles in a spicy Szechuan sauce. It’s good. Try it.” 

It was almost comical watching Jeongin approach the dish. He sniffed the food on his spoon, a cautious look on his face. Hesitantly, he took it into his mouth and began chewing. You watched his facial expression waiting for the result. 

Your boyfriend swallowed the food, pursing his lips, and nodding his head. “Okay, so it’s good. But, that says more about your cooking than it does about vegan food.” 

The two of you enjoyed the rest of your dinner and Jeongin even helped you clean up. As you finished up washing the dishes you noticed Jeongin looking in your fridge. “Are you still hungry?”

He shook his head when he felt you hug him from behind. “There isn’t even cheese in your fridge!” 

“Jeongin...that’s what vegan means.”  

Jeongin still seemed to be searching your fridge for what he now knew would not be there. Still hugging him you watched as he opened up your freezer. You backed away, ears splitting from the high pitched scream your boyfriend let out. 

“WHERE’S YOUR ICE CREAM?!”

Requests are Temporarily Closed!

Masterlist

[lillianfromaccounting]

This ended up being a very long post and I'm on mobile, so I'll fix the read more in the morning when I get on the computer.

TW: covid, depression, Thanksgiving, a lot of food talk

-----------

Today, we officially called off Thanksgiving with family (it had pretty much been decided but today we called the few people to confirm it).

Some background: my family only started celebrating Thanksgiving because I wanted to. We're Chinese, so growing up, it wasn't a thing for us, plus my mom wasn't fond of turkey.

At the age of 13, I picked up a bread baking recipe book at a Scholastic book drive. Up until that point, I had been baking stuff from box mixes, so making bread from scratch was a huge deal for me. Age 14, I told my parents I wanted to do Thanksgiving the American way. We qualified for a free turkey at our local supermarket anyway, so why not? To make it more palatable, I incorporated Chinese elements into the menu--various Chinese vegetables (choy) instead of green bean casserole, sticky rice (loh mai fan) stuffing--and i would bake fresh bread. There would always be white rice.

I have a huge extended family and on the weekends, my parents would have family and friends over to play mahjong, so Thanksgiving went over great because they loved trying all these new foods, and I loved trying new recipes. We always had a rotation of at least thirty people, so the food went. I think one year, I counted just over fifty people--it was like a revolving door at my parents' house, some people would pop in around lunch time and hang out until they had to go to their own family's Thanksgiving dinners, some came for dinner, and some came for dessert and coffee with a side of mahjong.

As the years went on, my menus got more and more elaborate, and I would enlist my younger siblings (I have three) to be my sous chefs. It was a THING. Thanksgiving was my thing.

The college I went to is very involved with the Macy's Thanksgiving parade balloons, and while it would have been an awesome experience, it required giving up your Wednesday night and most of Thanksgiving Thursday. That was a deal breaker for me. That's how much my Thanksgiving ritual meant to me.

Some of my favorite memories are waiting in line at DiPalo's (before they expanded, back when it was just the corner storefront) with my sister the weekend before Thanksgiving to get fresh mozzarella and ricotta and parmigiano (lasagna was a huge hit with my family). The longest we waited was three hours one year.

Another year, this was after I had graduated and moved out and was working. My work let us out early (around 2pm), but this asshat in another department ensured me that he needed these numbers so he can work over the weekend. I ended up running out to DiPalo's to pick up my order and going back to work, working to 9pm to get those numbers out, before going back to my parents' house to start cooking. The asshat didn't look at them that weekend (we get the Friday off too).

Mind you, it's not that I couldn't get the ingredients in Jersey, I just honestly had no idea where to go. My parents did the bulk of their grocery shopping in Chinatown and DiPalo's was right at the border of Chinatown and Little Italy.

As I said earlier, my menus got more elaborate over the years. Everyone kept eating the loaves of fresh bread for breakfast, so I made Thanksgiving an all day affair, with a breakfast, lunch, and dinner menu.

One year, the theme was fried foods (fried turkey legs, homemade mozzarella sticks, etc.). I always tried new recipes on Thanksgiving, because honestly, what I enjoyed most about it was the process, the production of creating something delicious.

My siblings started sending me recipes throughout the year. One year, I made a vegan raspberry cheesecake (the base was cashews and almonds).

My siblings also said that they knew my now husband was a keeper because he had not only survived Thanksgiving at my parents' house, but he rolled with it (I'm pretty sure I put him to work too).

After we got married and bought our house, I claimed Thanksgiving for both sides of the family (there were no objections, because I didn't care about Christmas, so they had Christmas). My husband's family had been getting their Thanksgiving meals catered for a few years at this point, so they didn't mind not cooking.

But including his family meant I had to start making sacrifices to my process. One person only liked Stove Top stuffing (don't get me wrong, Stove Top chicken flavor is amazing, but so is a sausage stuffing from scratch). The year my second child was born, I think I was a bit burned out by everything, so we ended up ordering a whole pig (think spit roast, but Chinese style) and some roast ducks that year. We were told the next year that some people would prefer to have turkey. One year, we decided to smoke our turkey, and the feedback we had gotten was that some people really preferred oven roasted. So the following year, we did turkey three ways (roasted, smoked, and deep fried) and we started getting feedback that we were doing too much variety. This happened with the sides too. Heirloom vegetable recipes (guys, I used to watch the Food Network religiously) were reduced to sauteed green beans or asparagus. We were told to reduce the variety of things, so the only pasta dish that kept making it onto the menu was mac and cheese, because that was someone else's preference. And I couldn't even play around with the mac and cheese, because the family's recipe used Velveeta (yes, I know I sound like a food snob, and it's because I was back then).

But year after year, the creativity of the menu decreased and decreased, to the point where my husband and I felt it wasn't enjoyable anymore.

This morning, after we had called the family (it was really just my and his parents, whom we have been seeing during this whole time because we live close and do shopping for them, etc.), part of me was excited to finally make a menu and my husband and I agreed on a very small menu, because it's just us and our two kids.

And by the time I went to bed, I was excited again for Thanksgiving because we will be cooking things that we want. There are three, possibly four varieties of scones on the breakfast menu right now. I haven't mentioned this yet, but my menus are always too ambitious. I almost never get every single dish on the table, but the important ones get there. The experimental ones get ranked in order of what I want to taste.

After all these years, we have established staples. We always have bacon cheddar scones with breakfast. My sons requested chocolate chip and vanilla, respectively, and I want pumpkin. We'll see how many varieties actually get made. I always make fresh cranberry sauce for the sole reason of baking it into a crumb cake for Friday morning. We also eat the Ocean Spray jellied (with whole berries), and I serve it in slices. My husband is the mashed potato king, so he handles that. The King Arthur masala chai pumpkin pie recipe has been a hit year after year, so that is a staple now. I was excited to be able to cook what we wanted again.

It even inspired a Thanksgiving chapter in the fic I am writing. (I am so, so, so happy and excited for this chapter now.)

But as I was going to bed tonight, I was thinking about those memories at DiPalo's and cooking with my siblings, and pandemic sadness hit me like a ton of bricks. I cried hard. I miss my siblings. I miss the hospitality of it all. Just like my parents' house was a revolving door, when my husband and I took over Thanksgiving, it was an unspoken rule that extended friends and family were welcomed. My siblings' friends from high school and college would stop by. My one sister's friend would even ask to be on the menu distribution list (I usually drafted a menu and my family members would vote on which dishes they wanted, and that was partially how the menu was created) and invite himself over lol.

I miss that company--the people who understood my Thanksgiving--my family. I haven't seen (in person) one sister since January and the other since March. And while we're constantly talking to each other and do the occasional video chat, it's just not the same.

If you read this far, thank you for your time and energy.

I don't have a point to this post, except maybe wear a fucking mask and stay home, so we can eventually beat this pandemic and resume some semblance of pre-covid life.

And I know this post is very much a first world problem. We have enough to eat and a warm roof over our heads. I am very grateful for that. But I am allowed to be sad too. This year would have been my 25th anniversary with Thanksgiving.

Writing all this out really helped though.

[artificialqueens]

Mateo's Eight, chapter nine [FINAL] (Branjie) -- athena2

A/N: Can’t believe we’re at the end of this one! Thank you all so much for all the support and love you gave this fic! I wasn’t sure if anyone would like it, and your support has meant so much. This one was out of my comfort zone and tricky for me and I almost gave it up a few times, so thank you times 10,000 to Writ, for not only betaing but encouraging me, reassuring me, and making sure I didn’t give this one up. You’re the best and ily <3 <3

—

For the first time ever, Vanessa can walk into a store and afford literally anything there. She tries not to let it change her, turn her into some rich asshole who throws money around. She just wants to make sure her mom is taken care of, that she has the nice things she deserves.

She hates to think that money makes her life better, but she can’t deny it. With her cut, she pays off the bills and books couples counseling for her and Brooke and a private therapist for herself, to sort out the tornado of emotions swirling inside her.

On one hand, she wants so badly to be with Brooke again, to pretend prison never happened, pretend that nothing’s wrong. But sometimes the sky threatens to crush her, or she looks at Brooke and sees the woman who sent her to prison–even if she doesn’t blame Brooke, because she had no choice–and it’s hard to forget and just be normal.

But she’s working on it. Every two weeks she plops down in a gray armchair and talks to her therapist about readjusting to freedom, about seeing herself as a person again, rather than a prisoner. It’s hard, and sometimes painful to relive things she just wants to ignore, but it’s working, the ache in her chest easing almost imperceptibly when she walks outside and sees April flowers poking through the dirt.

There are no words for telling her mom the bills are gone, that they can breathe again. Her mother cries and hugs Vanessa as fiercely as she did after her dad died, when that hug was the only thing keeping them together. They sink to the floor, a mess of tears and relief and freedom. Vanessa surges with pride, finally doing something good after all the stress she caused her mother.

For the first time since prison, things seem more good than bad, flowers shining brighter than the dirt.

It takes her a day to realize that strange sensation is hope.

—

Takeout on Wednesday nights has become their thing.

It started to help Brooke move into her new house while avoiding the full group chaos. The house is finished–pillows in place and pans stacked in cupboards and jungle animal prints carefully hung on Zoey’s walls–but Brooke asked if she wanted to keep coming over, and Vanessa agreed, curling up on Brooke’s couch with overflowing plates and binge-watching shows she missed in prison.

Tonight is a big night, because tomorrow Brooke picks up Zoey to live with her, and Vanessa brings a cheesecake she’s been drooling over.

But Brooke’s burrito is mostly untouched, tortilla chips pushed around her plate.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Vanessa asks.

“Nothing.”

“You’re worried about something,” Vanessa says. “The counselor said it’s okay to share things and need support, remember? You can tell me, I promise.”

Brooke nods shakily, fear flickering through her eyes, and Vanessa hopes eventually they’ll share things without fear again. “Zoey was five months old when he took her. She’s only seen me once a month since then.” Brooke sighs. “What if she won’t like seeing me every day? What if she wants to go back with him–”

“Shh,” Vanessa begins, squeezing Brooke’s hand. “You’re her mom, B. I know you couldn’t be with her every day, and that’s not your fault. But you get to be there now, okay? You can do all the things you wanted together.”

“But what if…” Brooke lowers her head in shame. “What if I don’t know how to be a mom?”

Vanessa pauses, because navigating things with Brooke and Zoey is still tricky, even with the counseling. Vanessa never knows quite what to say, what’s too much involvement or not enough, still a little upset she never knew about Zoey.

But Brooke’s chewing her lip to shreds, desperate for the support Vanessa promised, and Vanessa concentrates on that instead. She gets Brooke’s fear–it must be hard to be a mom at all, especially with her situation–but it breaks her heart that Brooke thinks she isn’t good enough. Even though Vanessa’s still accepting it, Brooke choosing Zoey over her proves how much she loves her daughter.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Vanessa says finally. “I know things with her haven’t been normal, but I also know how kind and caring and loving you are. You love Zoey and you’d do anything for her. That already makes you a great mom.”

Brooke’s lips form a line that leaves it impossible to tell what she’s thinking, whether Vanessa’s words calmed her. Before things get worse, Vanessa speaks again. “Tell me about Zoey.”

“What?” Brooke asks in confusion.

“Just talk about her. Cute stuff she does. Anything.” Vanessa doesn’t know much about Zoey, admittedly. She’s only ever asked basic things about her, still struggling to process everything, and she thinks Brooke refrains from saying too much so it doesn’t upset Vanessa. But Vanessa is with Brooke entirely, and she’s going to try harder with her and Zoey.

Brooke looks down. “Her–her favorite food is peanut butter and jelly. She won’t eat the crusts though. And she loves Cheerios.”

Vanessa smiles. “What else?”

“She loves animals. There’s this park I take her to, where you can feed the ducks. She gives them all names and talks to them. When she doesn’t like something, she makes this face and scrunches her mouth up and it’s the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen. Sometimes she smiles in her sleep, and I just…I love her so much, Ness.” Brooke speaks breathlessly, pure love and passion alight in her eyes. It’s how Brooke looks at her when they cuddle, and it tells Vanessa she’s okay.

Vanessa can’t help but smile too, a little less worried about meeting Zoey. “See? You love her, Brooke. I’m sure she loves you. I know I do.”

Brooke blushes, and Vanessa’s heart twinges at Brooke blushing all this time later. “Thank you, Ness. For everything. And I love you too.”

“Now eat,” Vanessa coaxes, “so I can have my cheesecake.”

—

Zoey’s stuff is already at the house when Brooke arrives at the case worker’s office to get her. She and Frank aren’t supposed to interact, and Brooke is grateful her shoulders won’t have to shrink, that she won’t have to make herself small around him. It’s something she’s working through in her own therapy sessions, which Vanessa suggested.

Brooke hesitates before entering, fear trying to rise past the comforting words Vanessa pushed it down with last night. What if the judge revokes her decision and she loses Zoey again? What if she really doesn’t know how to be a mom? She’s already missed Zoey walking and talking the first time, trying new foods and discovering the world. It seemed Zoey got bigger with each visit, and Brooke was afraid that one day she’d pick Zoey up and not recognize the girl in front of her, that she’d miss too much to even know her own daughter.

But you get to be there now, Vanessa’s words remind her. Vanessa has been so kind in all this even though Brooke knows it’s hard for her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. And she’s right. Brooke is here, and they have nothing but time. Brooke’s taking a break from work–she’ll go back eventually; she doesn’t want to be a rich asshole that sits around all day–but she has a while before Zoey starts preschool, and Brooke’s going to cherish every moment she can with her.

“Mommy!” Zoey jumps into her arms and tears escape before Brooke can stop them.

“It’s me, sweetie.”

Zoey is soft and warm, smelling sweetly of little-kid shampoo. She clings fiercely to Brooke and to her stuffed giraffe, and Brooke strokes her hair. Her baby is home.

—

“Stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy,” A’keria groans from her bed.

Vanessa takes another lap around A’keria’s tiny bedroom. “Something’s wrong. It’s almost midnight. Brooke should’ve been here by now.”

“Maybe she’s lying low, in case the cops are watching.”

It’s a reasonable explanation, but Vanessa can’t accept it. Deep down inside, something feels wrong. They’ve never had a con turn bad like that, never been in danger like this, and she can’t stop pacing.

And Brooke. She hasn’t called either of Vanessa’s phones. Brooke is probably just hiding out, cautious as ever, but Vanessa can’t stop her mind from flashing to Brooke being taken away in handcuffs, being hurt by police officers, scared and alone somewhere.

“Maybe I should call her. Or check our place.”

“Don’t do that,” A’keria says quickly. “That puts you in more danger. Look, I know it’s hard, but you have to stay here. Let things die down for a few days.”

Vanessa sighs. “You’re right.”

A’keria falls asleep, but Vanessa stays up all night, staring at her phone, cycling through every bad thing that could have happened to Brooke. She’s still wide-awake when the sun rises and there’s a sudden knock on the door.

Vanessa runs, ready to jump into Brooke’s arms–

But all she meets are the cold arms of the police.

—

Vanessa adjusts the flowers as she knocks, silky daffodils almost poking her in the eyes. She ignores the fluttering in her stomach as the door opens. It’s her first time meeting Zoey, and even though she’s practiced this in therapy, there’s still fear that she’ll mess up, that Zoey will hate her and Brooke will end things.

“These are for you,” Vanessa says, passing Brooke the bouquet. “Flowers for a new place, remember?”

Brooke’s eyes reflect the memory, and she smiles. “Of course I do. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Inside, the house’s joy hits her in the face. There’s tiny blue light-up sneakers heaped by the door, baking ingredients piled on the counter, dolls and crayons strewn across the table, and an overwhelming sense of love. Vanessa smiles, knowing Brooke finally has the happiness she deserves.

Vanessa’s heart leaps when Zoey enters the kitchen, so much like Brooke that Vanessa does a double take. She sees Brooke in the quirk of Zoey’s lips, the clever, mischievous gleam in her eyes, and the wide, toothy smile she makes when she sees Vanessa.

“Hi there.” Vanessa crouches down, self-consciousness and uncertainty vanishing as Zoey’s big blue eyes take her in. “I’m Vanessa. I’m friends with your Mommy.”

“Nessa?” Zoey asks.

Vanessa smiles. “Close enough.”

“Let’s get started on those cookies, Zoey,” Brooke says.

“Cookies!” Zoey springs to the counter, and Vanessa’s heart expands to make room for her already. Zoey perches herself on a chair while Brooke carefully ties a doll-sized apron around her.

“You wanna help?” Brooke asks Vanessa.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” A smirk crosses Brooke’s face. “You want a chair to stand on, too?”

Vanessa swats at her. She works by Brooke’s side, and this Brooke is one she forgot how much she loved. This Brooke is calm and fun, not caring when Zoey spills flour but swiping some down Vanessa’s nose, biting her lip with the same concentration she devotes to cons as she scoops cookie dough. She sees the love Brooke has for Zoey, looking at her like she can’t believe she’s real, and Vanessa understands that she’s not the only one who’s had some rough months.

After devouring the cookies, Zoey tugs them into the living room (Vanessa almost melts when Zoey grabs her hand, chanting ‘Come on, Nessa’) and asks Brooke if they can watch Frozen.

Vanessa jumps at the two cats laying on the armchair, staring into her soul.

“Where’d they come from?” Vanessa demands.

Brooks laughs. “Well, you know I always wanted a cat, so Zoey and I went to the shelter. She picked out the gray one, Apollo, but the worker said Apollo and Henry—that’s the brown—are friends, and I didn’t want to separate them.”

Vanessa nods. Brooke has such a big heart, and Vanessa is glad she feels safe enough to share it.

Vaness curls into Brooke’s left side and Zoey snuggles against Brooke’s right, and it’s…nice. Vanessa was hesitant to meet Zoey at first, afraid that once she saw her, the living proof of the secret that sent her to prison, that she would resent Brooke again, wouldn’t be able to be around either of them. Meeting Zoey would make things real in a way they weren’t before, when Zoey was just a name and a picture and a lie. But Zoey isn’t just Brooke’s lie, she’s Brooke’s daughter, a tiny living human, and Vanessa watches her nuzzle into Brooke and understands why Brooke lied to protect her.

But Brooke isn’t lying anymore. She’s been completely honest with Vanessa, on dates and in counseling, working hard to create a strong, healthy relationship with her. It’s a second chance for them, and Vanessa won’t blow this one.

Brooke holds them tight, and Vanessa grips back. Zoey falls asleep with her head in Brooke’s lap, a stuffed giraffe wedged under her arm. Vanessa watches Brooke stroke Zoey’s hair and finds her own hands drifting to Brooke’s hair, losing her fingers in the soft waves. Vanessa could hardly imagine Zoey when Brooke told her, and the fact that they’re all cuddling together, that Vanessa likes it this much, is an even bigger surprise. But she thinks she could get used to this.

Vanessa knows she loves Brooke, and she doesn’t want to lose her. She knows it’ll take time to fully be free from prison, just as it will take time to get used to Zoey and rebuild her relationship with Brooke. But she wants to. She wants to so badly. She always thought the dull pain in her chest since prison was from her hatred of Brooke, but Brooke kisses her cheek and Vanessa squeezes her hand and she knows it was from missing Brooke.

—

“I can’t believe you invited them all for dinner,” Brooke mutters as she helps Vanessa set the table.

“Well, we’re friends now.” Vanessa shrugs. “I thought it’d be cool to catch up with everyone.”

The dining room in the house Vanessa bought her mom is bigger than their old apartment, more than big enough for the Mateo’s Eight to have dinner.

“Famous last words,” Brooke teases.

The night kicks off when A’keria arrives with armfuls of chips, cementing her title of master snack-picker. Silky brings what was supposed to be twelve but is actually eleven cupcakes, her way of preemptively making sure she got the one she wanted. Scarlet, Yvie, and Nina come together, passing her dishes and hugging everyone and chatting about all they’ve done since getting their money.

Vanessa can’t help but smile knowing that she helped them all, helped Yvie go back to school and get Scarlet a bigger store and get Nina on both comedy club and adoption agency lists and find A’keria and Silky new homes and new lives. She’s made a difference in their lives, and now she can make a difference in her own, has the time and resources to figure out what she wants to do, a new start after prison.

Even Plastique drops in, standing tall with the confidence the con gave her, confidence to tell off her sexist director and become director of the movie herself.

“Not that it’s not nice to see you,” Scarlet begins, “but you have nothing better to do than hang around with criminals like us?”

Plastique shrugs. “It’s so hard to find other women to be friends with nowadays,” she says. “And book clubs aren’t my thing.”

“So you’d say loneliness is pushing you into criminal circles?” Nina asks thoughtfully, like she really wants to know.

“You a therapist now?” Vanessa asks Nina with a laugh.

The rest of the night is what she’s come to expect and love from her friends: Yvie stating that she hacked both McDonald’s and the White House in such a deadpan way that everyone suspects it might be true; everyone roasting Silky after she spills her soda and Silky retaliating by throwing chips; Nina genuinely asking how everyone is. It’s equal parts humor and chaos and love, and Vanessa wouldn’t change a thing.

Brooke smiles at her all night, curling her foot around Vanessa’s under the table, and Vanessa knows Brooke is another part of her life that she won’t change.

—

Brooke betrayed her.

It’s all Vanessa can think, the only thing blaring in her brain as the police list evidence they could have only gotten from Brooke.

Brooke betrayed her.

The past nine months were nothing, then. Nine months of dinners and kisses and laughs. Nine months of jumping on the grocery cart while Brooke pushed her, of talking about their days while walking Riley, of picnics and pillow forts in the living room.

All of it was nothing to Brooke.

Vanessa was nothing to Brooke.

I’ll protect you, I promise. Always. The last thing Brooke said to her was a complete lie.

Did Brooke ever love her, or was their whole relationship fake, one long con to put Vanessa away? Did they offer Brooke money to sell her out, or did Brooke just give her up without a fight? Vanessa doesn’t know if it’s better or worse if Brooke at least got something out of the betrayal. How much was Vanessa worth to her? Obviously not enough to keep her safe. Not enough to stop Vanessa from being ripped away from her mom.

Oh, God, her mom. All Vanessa wanted was to help her, and now she just gave her more pain and suffering and stress. How long until her mom hugged her again? Would her mom even want to hug such a terrible daughter? Tears spring in her eyes and she’s not going to cry in a cell. She’s not. It doesn’t matter why Brooke gave her up.

All that matters is that Vanessa is done with Brooke forever.

She’ll never hang a spoon off her nose just to make Brooke laugh, never soothe Brooke over her bills when Vanessa’s were just as pressing, never let Brooke rub her shoulders or kiss her lips again. They’ll never walk into a home like Vanessa imagined.

It’s done.

She’s done.

She hopes Brooke suffers for the rest of her life. She hopes Brooke wakes up every day and burns with what she’s done, the pain burrowing inside her chest and cracking her ribs. She hopes each shard of memory that pierces Brooke makes her think of Vanessa, hopes the pain brings her to her knees, hopes she knows Vanessa will never take that pain away again, but would sink the knife in deeper if given the chance.

They’re done.

Forever.

—

Spring blooms into a hot, dry summer that becomes a cold, damp autumn. Vanessa is at Brooke’s almost every night, making apple cakes and decorating pumpkins and brainstorming Zoey’s Halloween costume. She and Brooke cook dinner together while Zoey “helps” (‘You certainly taught her how to make a mess,’Brooke teases with a smile), both of them firmly lodged in her heart.

She and Brooke have a date once a week, discovering new parts to each other and digging up the old parts, memories she tried to forget but now lets shine. She’s doing better with the past, her therapy helping her process and heal from it.

“I’m gonna start looking for a house,” Vanessa says over lunch one day. “Maybe a salon to make my own too. Been so focused on my mom that I haven’t had time.”

“Are you thinking of looking around here?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be too far from my mom. Or–or from you.” Vanessa doesn’t ever want to be apart from her again.

“I can look with you, if you want. I have a house.”

“I know you do.” Vanessa grins. She’s pretty sure she knows where Brooke is going, but the rosy tinge to Brooke’s cheeks is too cute.

“I mean, I can help with what to look for. Like, my house has nice closets, and the baseboards are good, and cabinets! You don’t really notice cabinets, but they’re important, and if you want to live with me for a bit to give your mom space and see if you’d want a house like mine, I mean—”

“Are you trying to ask me to move in with you?” Vanessa finally cuts in before Brooke passes out from forgetting to breathe.

Brooke nods shyly. “If you want to.”

“Oh, I want to. I shoulda let you keep going, see how long you talked about baseboards and cabinets before you spit it out.”

Brooke just smiles.

“Would it be okay with Zoey, though?” Vanessa asks hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want to mess anything up with her.”

“Zoey loves you, Ness,” Brooke says. “Me and the caseworker have talked about stability for her, and you’re part of that. You really are.”

Vanessa is part of it. Not only part of Brooke’s life, but part of Brooke’s home, her family. Their family. Vanessa had once dreamt of walking into a new house with Brooke, a house that was all their own, where they could make all the mess and noise they wanted without worrying about landlords. A house to eat and sleep and dance and cuddle in, where they could be themselves and live.

“Of course I want to live with you.” Brooke’s smile is wide and bright and Vanessa shares it, squeezing her hand in joy.

“You’re coming over for dinner tonight, right?” Brooke asks.

“Yeah.” Vanessa pauses, an idea popping into her head. “Wanna have a make-your-own pizza party and set up a blanket fort? Zoey might like that.” Pizza is definitely part of Vanessa’s stability, and she can’t think of anything better to celebrate moving in.

“She’ll love that.”

Vanessa leans across the table for a kiss, knowing her dreams have come true, that she and Brooke can have their new start and make their own traditions, a life and a happiness she didn’t have to cheat or scam for, but one she made herself.

[adriensbug]

The Baker’s Daughter

AO3 / Requests Open!

WC: 4K

Ship: Adrienette

The night is cold as Adrien Agreste walks down the empty path from his home to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. An hour ago the boy didn’t even have a destination, didn’t even know why he was sneaking out in the first place, but when his stomach started rumbling and his dramatic Kwami finally came out of hiding, he knew he had to get food fast.

Marinette’s was always his comfort place. Though his trips to her house were as Chat Noir, he was sure he would be welcomed. Marinette’s family were as kind hearted as she was, it didn’t take sneaking in as Chat Noir to notice that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that family. 

As the door to the bakery swings open, Adrien almost braces himself for who might pop out. If it’s Marinette, he knows exactly what to say and he’s already picturing her blush. If it’s Sabine, he knows how to make her smile while also asking for a bite to eat. 

Though, if it’s Tom... he hopes that it isn’t. Ever since Tom was akumatized, Adrien admits that he doesn’t know how to approach the man. He admires Tom, loves the fact that he would do anything for his daughter, yet he’s almost jealous of Marinette because of him. In some aspects Adrien wishes that he was a Dupain-Cheng. Maybe then he’d have a father that actually showed his affection.

His mind begins to ease as he sees a shadow of a girl with pigtails pop her head out of the store door to check the streets. Marinette’s eyes glance in every direction until they fall on Adrien.

He can’t help but let out a laugh as he watches Marinette let out a scream and hide behind the open door as he approaches. “Good afternoon, Marinette.” He smiles. “I hope you’re still open, I’ve been dying to take you up on that offer of free taste tests for that macaroon recipe you told me about... am I too late?” 

Marinette’s face is in shock as she looks up at the blonde. If this were any other day she would’ve had to tell Adrien no, that the bakery was officially closed. Tonight, however, her parents had entrusted her with the kitchen until curfew. So how was it, then, that Adrien had managed to show up on the only day in the history of her entire life where her parents left her alone in the bakery? 

“Wow, what perfect timing! No. Uh, I mean, no it’s not too late! You can absolutely not come in. I mean!” She takes a deep breath before walking out on to the side walk and offering the door to Adrien. “Come in.” She hides her pain in a small grin.

Adrien returns the grin as he walks through the door, ignoring a pestering Plagg who has made it his mission to tug at Adrien’s shirt whenever he misses something. He remembers a conversation with Plagg not to long ago about how Adrien always misses the signs. When Adrien asked what signs he was exactly missing, Plagg only rolled his eyes. Look, whenever you miss something I’ll tug at your shirt, okay? Maybe then you’ll figure things out. Unfortunately, Plagg had only made Adrien more confused and the more that Plagg tugged on his shirt in his every day life, the more oblivious Adrien got.

As the two set up in the kitchen, Marinette counting her ingredients while Adrien stared fondly at her from the bar stool, the tugging at his shirt grew more rapid. He flicked Plagg away with a pinch of his fingers and tried focusing back on Marinette. “So what flavors are you making tonight, my little baker?” 

Marinette’s cheeks flush as she opened her mouth to answer. Unfortunately, the words just didn’t come out. She wishes that she could talk to Adrien as a normal person would, wishes that they could be friends. But with just the way that Adrien was looking at her making her blush, she knows that she’s too far in. 

“Cake.” She says, knowing damn well that her answer had nothing to do with what Adrien just asked. 

“Cake.” Adrien repeats, a smirk forming across his lips. “Okay, cake. What flavor, then?” 

Marinette’s frustrations can easily be seen but Adrien pretends like he doesn’t notice as he watches her fumble to open a package of sugar. He reaches across the counter, taking the flour from her grasp, before opening it himself and dipping his finger in to have a taste. 

Marinette’s mouth drops as she rips the package from Adrien’s hands. “You’re not supposed to do that!” She cries. “Now we have to throw this out.” She frowns as she looks down at the small indent in the sugar that Adrien had made with his finger before looking up at the boy himself.

With his finger still in his mouth, he lets out a sheepish smile and outstretches his hand to tug at the back of his head out of habit. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m just too eager.” 

Marinette’s heart leaps as she sets the sugar down and takes a deep breath. She’s trying to gain enough confidence to tell him that it was okay, that they would just have to use up this sugar themselves. Instead she puts on one of the most fake smiles she’s ever tried to pull off before waving her hand. “It’s okay,” she insists. “It’s just... health regulations.” 

Adrien nods as his curious eyes watch Marinette pour sugar into the large bowl. “Right.” He says. “Sorry, Mari.” 

“M-Mari?” She questions.

Crap. Adrien had only ever called her Mari before when he was Chat Noir. How could he be so stupid as to make a rookie slip up like that? Before he gets the chance to think of an excuse, Marinette’s talking again and he can’t help but watch her lips as she speaks.

“Um... it’s funny, I only know one other person who calls me that. Do you... by any chance know Chat Noir in real life?” 

Lie. He told himself. Say you don’t know him. Say you were just kidding around. Say anything that doesn’t relate you to your alter ego. Lie, god damn it.

“Chat Noir? I’ve talked to him a few times.” 

Plagg tugs at Adrien’s shirt once more but this time he pinches the skin around his chest and Adrien can’t help but let out a groan as he reaches his hand into his overshirt to swat at Plagg. “Okay, I deserved that.” 

Marinette’s eyebrows furrow as she watches the blonde wince in pain. “Deserved what?” 

Adrien’s eyes grow wide as he freezes in place, feeling Plagg’s teeth surround his finger. If he wasn’t about to reveal his secret identity to the girl that he was desperately trying to hpld a conversation with he would’ve grabbed Plagg and shoved him away from his shirt, away from him completely, but instead he shoves his hand out and places it on to the counter in front of him. 

“What?” He repeats her once more. “I said that I could really go for a dessert platter.” He closes his eyes and smiles, hoping his lie would pass. 

Fortunately, when he opens his eyes and sees the crinkle in Marinette’s as she opens the fridge and takes out a plate full of cheesecake, he knows that the lie worked. 

“So you’ve talked to Chat?” She asks as she places the cheesecake in front of Adrien with a fork. “He comes to visit here sometimes, you know? Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll come tonight!” 

Adrien’s eyes almost turn into hearts at the sight of the cake in front of him. His stomach twists and turns at ease as he digs his fork into the center of the cake. He takes of bite of the cake before letting out a satisfied hum, giving the girl in front of him a thumbs up. 

“I don’t think he’d come by at a time like this,” he tells her. “Him and Ladybug are probably out patrolling or something. Last night I saw them at the Eiffel Tower. Not sure what happened but Ladybug looked pretty ticked.” 

Marinette’s face falls in annoyance as she subconsciously slams the milk down to the counter after pouring it into her mixture. She remembers the night before where Chat had called her in the middle of the night, telling her that he spotted another akuma victim. When she had met him at the tower, however, he pretended like he didn’t know anything about the twenty-three messages he had left her and asked her to hang out. 

‘Some of us have a life, you know.’ She had told him. 

‘Yeah, and some of us just want to see their best friend.’ He had an answer ready, she could tell, but it didn’t make her any less angry with the fact that he was keeping her from sleep on the day that she had 3 tests at school.

“Ticked?” She questions Adrien as she snaps out of her thoughts. “When I saw Ladybug this morning she looked fine. I wonder what she could’ve been mad about.” She smiles, not really knowing why she was trying to defend her alter ego, as she adds flour into her bowl.

Adrien shrugs, taking another large bite of the cheesecake. “Chat Noir says that she’s always angry with him at some point, he just chooses to ignore it because he values their friendship.” 

Marinette can’t help but whisper under her breath at his response. “Yeah well if he knew she had 3 tests and boy issues he would understand.” 

“Boy issues?” Adrien perks up at this and he can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy rush over him. “How could Ladybug possibly have boy issues if she’s saving Paris literally everyday?” 

In some way Marinette feels obligated to defend herself, to defend Ladybug. At the same time, though, she wonders how in the hell she was able to hold a conversation with Adrien, let alone an argument. She watches as Adrien takes an angry bite of the cake and stuff it in his mouth and she wonders why the boy is so angry. 

“Do you have a thing for Ladybug?” She questions, pointing her mixing spoon at him.

Adrien’s fork falls into the cake as his mouth opens. “Wha- me? Have a thing for Ladybug? No, no, no.” He assures. “I’ve just... we’re just-”

“Just friends.” Marinette finishes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.

The two are silent for a moment. The tension is rising and Adrien almost thinks that he should get up and bolt out of the store. Marinette continues mixing her cake batter in silence and Adrien can only guess why Plagg is tugging at his shirt once more. 

“Mari?”

He gets no response.

Adrien sighs as he gets up from the bar stool and turns to face the door. He takes two steps before he feels two arms wrap around his waist and a head lean against his back.

“I’m sorry.” Marinette whispers, clinging on to the boy. “Don’t go, you still haven’t tasted the cake.” 

Adrien’s heart skips multiple beats as he feels her against him. The warmth that radiates from Marinette is almost intoxicating and he wonders why this feels so familiar, why it feels so right. His hands fall to hers as he slips his fingers in between hers. “I don’t... know what I’m doing.” He admits. “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Done what?” She asks.

He tries to find the right words to express himself. He tries, damn it, but how can he tell Marinette that he’s never experienced an argument with someone who wasn’t a family member of his? He had made it up in his mind that he had already used the ‘I’ve never had friends before’ card way too many times and he was tired of making excuses for his actions but... what else could he really do?

“Please,” he begs, voice threatening to falter. “Just tell me what I need to do to fix whatever I did to you.”

Once again the bakery hovers in silence as Marinette slowly releases her hands from Adrien’s and takes a step back, completely untangling herself from him.

Adrien almost considers turning around and pulling her back towards him and wrapping his arms around her waist, tucking his chin into her neck. Instead, he sucks in before turning around and facing Marinette.

As he turns he notices her puffy cheeks, notices her hand reaching up to wipe away her tears, and his heart almost breaks. It was never his intention to make Marinette cry. In fact, he had made it his personal mission months ago to always keep her happy. She was good to him, he thought, so why did he constantly fail his own mission? 

“That’s the issue.” She utters. “You haven’t done anything, Adrien... at least not consciously.” She wipes away another tear for looking up at the blonde and waving her hand away. “It’s my fault, okay? Just forget it. You can go if you want to.” 

Adrien takes a step towards her now, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek, but immediately stops in his tracks as Marinette takes a step backwards and turns her face. She’s distant all of a sudden and Adrien takes it way too personally. 

“Tell me what I did.” He attempts. “Marinette, I won’t be able to go to sleep at night knowing that I upset you. Please, for the love of god, tell me what I did.”

“You called me a friend!” Marinette shouts, causing Adrien to take a step back in surprise. “That’s what you did, Adrien. You called me your friend. And I know how stupid that sounds and I know that you won’t understand because you don’t understand that I’m in love with you. Every time you say we’re just friends or that I’m one of your guys my heart feels like you’ve stabbed it into a million tiny pieces but you don’t understand that. I can’t blame you, either, because you’ve never experience friendship before. I can’t tell you how much it hurts or how much I wished you would stop calling me a friend because I’m terrified that I’ll upset you. Is that what you were wanting me to say?”

Marinette continues and Adrien feels like he’s sinking lower and lower as she does. Not once had he ever seen Marinette so worked up, he was almost afraid of her in all honesty,  but he was the cause of her stress. He made her this way.

While Marinette continues to rant, Adrien’s arms reach out to her and pull her closer to him. He wraps his hands around her waist as she tells him that he’s oblivious, tucks his chin into her neck as she calls him selfish, and closes his eyes as she compares him to a lost puppy. 

“W-What are you doing?” She asks as she realizes what’s happening. 

“I’m hugging you.” Adrien replies.

“I can see that, I’m not blind.”

He chooses to ignore her comment as he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry.” He finally says. “I... I think I always knew you liked me but I’m not exactly quick to pick things like that up, you know.”

Marinette’s confused. Not once in the millions of times that she had confessed to Adrien in her head did the outcome look like this. Not once had she imagined she would confess to Adrien in a fit of rage just for him to hug her and tell her that he knew. Still, she can’t help but return the hug and wrap her arms around the boy’s shoulders. “You knew?”

A smile spreads across the boy’s lips as he gently presses them against Marinette’s neck. Of course he did, he thinks to himself. What kind of girl would go out of her way to make a boy breakfast every single morning after he had told her he doesn’t have enough time to if she didn’t like him? What kind of girl would blush at just the sight of a boy if she didn’t like him? Adrien had his suspicious for a while now. It was nice to know that he was finally right about something. 

The question lingered, however, if Adrien liked her back or not. The truth was that Adrien didn’t know. He didn’t know how to like someone if it wasn’t Ladybug. He was fixated on the superhero to the point where she was all he could think about at one point. Then he remembers, as Marinette begins to rub his back, that Marinette took up the other half of his thoughts.

He would constantly think of ways to brighten her smile or ways to make her blush. His goal was to make her happy, after all. Could that be what others would call a secret crush? But... how could Adrien have a crush on a girl without even realizing it, he wonders. 

“I think... I think I might like to you, too, Mari.” He whispers in her ear. He feels her body tense and he can’t help but let out a chuckle as he nudges his nose against her ear. “I’ll tell you what,” he offers. “I’ll try to be less oblivious and less puppy-like if you tell me how you’re feeling, alright? I want to make you happy, not be the cause of your anger.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Marinette says as she tries to untangle herself from the boy once again. She tries to push Adrien’s shoulders away but this time he has a hold on her and he refuses to let her go. “You don’t have to pretend for my sake. Let’s just... call it a night and pretend like nothing happened, okay?”

Adrien shakes his head, pulling her back into his arms. “No.” He protests. “I don’t want to forget that we finally made progress, Marinette. You’re the only person who’s actually told me how you feel about me. How am I supposed to pretend it never happened?” 

“It’ll be easy.” She insists. She’s accepted her defeat, standing awkwardly with her hands to her sides while Adrien continues hugging her. She doesn’t want to admit that it hurts her to say the next few sentences. “We’ll go to school like nothing happened. When Nino asks you how your night went you’ll tell him you got home late from fencing practice and studied until you fell asleep. I’ll tell Alya I was baking until curfew and then I went to sleep. You don’t have to like me out of obligation, I don’t want to do that to you.”

“You’re acting like you’ve already accepted that I won’t like you back.” Adrien removes his chin from her neck and decides that now is the time to look her directly in the eye. “Marinette, listen to me.” His face inches closer as he looks down at her lips, noting how inviting they look, before looking back into her pearly blues. “I refuse to go to school and act like this night never happened.” He tells her. “Tomorrow when Nino asks how my night went I’ll tell him that I came here and saw you. Then after school I’ll convince my bodyguard to drop us off at Andre’s for ice cream. I’m not rejecting you.”

Marinette’s eyes snap open as she takes in every word that Adrien has told her. It was as if her mind snapped back into reality as she realizes what just happened. “Wait...D-Did you just ask me out?”

The blonde can’t help but let out a laugh as he quickly kisses the tip of Marinette’s nose. “I guess you could call it that.” As he releases Marinette, he can’t help but run his hands down her arm, towards her wrist. His hand fiddles with the lucky charm bracelet he had made her before a shy smile is formed across his lips. Then he notices the thin watch and notices just how much time has passed since he had gotten here.

Nathalie normally checked in on Adrien at eight thirty. It was now eight twenty-three. 

“I really hate to do this but if I don’t get home now I’ll be grounded for the rest of my life... will I see you tomorrow after school?” He asks, watching Marinette’s shocked expression change to that blushy, school girl crush face that he knows all too well. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” She crosses her arms and winks, the first bold act she’s ever made in front of Adrien, before uncrossing her arms and shaking her head. “I mean yes!” She struggles for a moment before nodding and giving Adrien a sweet smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Adrien repeats with a nod of his own head. “Bye, Mari.” 

Marinette’s heart is beating a million miles a minute as Adrien swings the door open and closes it behind him. It’s then that she makes a mental note to tell Chat Noir to never call her Mari again, that nickname would be reserved for Adrien and Adrien only from now on. 

“Wow, Marinette!” Tikki sings as she flies out hiding from the cookie jar. “Looks like you and Adrien are going to be pretty close from now on, huh?”

Marinette can’t help but giggle to herself before running in place and waving her fists in the air. “Did you see me, Tikki?!” She shouts. “I played it cool, I didn’t make a complete idiot of myself this time! And I have a date with Adrien tomorrow! Adrien!”

Tikki smiles before doing a dance of her own. “Yeah! Too bad you promised Chat Noir you’d meet him tomorrow after school also.” 

Immediately Marinette’s high is grounded. Her face falls as she sinks dramatically to the ground and pounds on the floor with her fists. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

-

As Adrien runs down the street, Plagg can’t help but smirk as he flies next to him. “Well, well, well.” He starts. “Looks like you’re not most oblivious person in Paris after all.”

Adrien smiles as he looks towards his Kwami. Plagg had always thrown Marinette into the ring when Adrien was talking about his crush on Ladybug, telling him to broaden his horizons, had he been on to something all of this time? Adrien can only wonder.

“Can you believe it, Plagg? I’m going on my first date ever... and it’s going to be with Marinette!” 

“You two really are made for one another.” Plagg, knowing very well just how made for each other the two really were, can’t help but feel excited at what was to come in the future of this relationship. Maybe, he hopes, if they can trust each other enough as Marinette and Adrien they’ll finally be able to tell each other the truth. 

Plagg’s smirk is immediately replaced with a horrified look as he watches Adrien. “Uhh... did you fail to remember you’re supposed to meet Marinette tomorrow as Chat Noir also?”

That’s when Adrien stops dead in his tracks, Plagg almost failing to stop as well. Adrien’s shocked expression fades as his eyebrows lift upwards and his mouth turns to a frown. “I’m sure she’ll be happy with just me... right?”

He looks to Plagg one last time and notices the laughter coming from him. Adrien can’t help but laugh along as he picks up speed and continues towards home. 

“I can’t wait until you two finally figure it out.” Plagg chuckles to himself as Adrien speeds past him.

[meetevieinthehallway]

h-how did flour get there?

in which harry thought the way to her heart was through her stomach.

-

“used to be a baker, y’know.”

the sentence has crossed headlines and articles and tweets and comments and has been the butt of jokes for well over a few years, and harry now suddenly realizes that all of them were right:

working in a bakery is different than being a baker.

he had this overarching confidence today and he was confused but not opposed to the feeling; it was nice to have a change of emotion after being stressed out for the past few days.

it was valentines day— and a sickly sweet feeling was bubbling in harry’s chest as he pondered how he could make their lowkey, casual and simple dinner tonight special. the last valentines day with his girl was celebrated on tour, and the lack of privacy and availability made it lackluster and filled with quickies and short make out sessions and simple cards with messy script.

this year was better. although they both had to work all day before they could celebrate with a nice dinner and a solid night of loving, harry was more than excited to get tipsy off of champagne with his love in low light and serve her dinner and dessert and—

shit.

he forgot dessert.

fuck.

arguably the most romantic part of any meal—feeding one another chocolate covered strawberries or rich chocolate cake or sweet cookies—he forgot it and if that doesn’t make him feel like an idiot he doesn’t know what will. he wanted this to be romantic: a night where he could praise and spoil his girl and make her feel absolutely beautiful in every way possible.

how in the fuck could he do that now that he forgot one of her favorite things?

harry’s girl had the biggest sweet tooth—it scares him sometimes—and he knows that if he doesn’t have any dessert she’ll certainly be whining and pouting. she never failed to not finish dinner to save room for something chocolately; no matter how many times harry chastised her, she’d stick her tongue out and laugh at him.

“let me live, h. just because you only eat leaves doesn’t mean i have to.”

and well, harry typically would pout at her.

“fine. order some.. some double fudge chocolate crusted oreo cheesecake with caramel with a side of a sugar overdose, then.”

“they have that on the menu?!”

okay so, he forgot his girl’s favorite thing. he pouted at himself, scolding himself, wondering how in the world he could have forgotten.

his brain had started to wrap itself in a frenzy— the weather was shitty today and he didn’t want to be that guy that called his driver to come and drive him to a bakery in heavy snow when he just dropped him off about twenty minutes ago.

he felt a small surge of confidence radiate through him—

i could bake something, right?

he bit his lip, pulling out his phone, searching pinterest with nimble fingers.

simple chocolate cake, maybe?...hm.

and up came a million recipes, right at his fingertips; it seemed simple enough.

oh, was he so wrong.

this one author claiming that her chocolate cake was the best in the world and comparable to the chocolate cake in matilda made harry frown; he didn’t like the tone of arrogance in a simple chocolate dessert recipe. it’s fucking butter and sugar, right?

well, it wasn’t.

harry didn’t realize that this recipe required precious tediousness. he didn’t think using regular milk instead of buttermilk was that big of a deal, and that one less egg than written down would cause too much harm. there were eggshells in the batter and it had way more than a “dash” of salt—what even did that mean—but harry pushed it into the oven with flour on his hands and a small, proud smile on his face.

knew i could do it!

he thinks that it had to bake for forty minutes— he’s unsure because pinterest closed out and erased the recipe away and he wasn’t going to try to find it again among the hundreds of thousands of suggestions.

there was some leftover frosting in the refrigerator from god knows when— harry pulled it out with an easy smile, relieved that he didn’t have to go through another recipe list.

but when he was engrossed in a youtube tutorial entitled diy piping bags! two steps! with twenty failed ziploc bags next to him, his nose twitched.

something didn’t smell.. right.

he couldn’t compare it to a smell he had already experienced… this one was just, wrong.

it had been only twenty-two minutes, but the disgusting smell of something…  cooking… didn’t scream safety. so he took it out with a sniffing nose and a what the fuck is that smell running through his mind.

he quickly glanced to the clock, thinking about how fast he could remake it, that he’d have all the time in the world— when took a double take and realized that his girl is going to be home in a fucking hour.

it was a blur then, really: one filled of puffs of flour as he attempts to construct something out of a half baked cake, icing thrown haphazardly on top and huffing when it melted on the hot dessert, gel food coloring resembling alphabet soup as he tried to write a message to his lovie. he was bent over his counter, batter sticking to his jeans and smears of frosting on his cheek, flour covering every surface in sight.

harry was so focused, his tongue poking out between his lips, limbs freezing when he hears her car pull up outside. before he knew it, she was closing the door behind her, calling out his name softly.

she smiled in relaxation. she was finally home, enveloped in warmth and ready to spend a romantic night with her husband. she was anxious; she was wearing something new under her work clothes that had been riling her up all day, wondering what he’d think, how he’d react when he saw it. she shook back her shoulders, sighing, walking towards the sound of him in the kitchen, bags in hand.

“hazza?” she cooed, swaying her hips, confidence stirring in her lower stomach as she sauntered, pushing the doorway in.

she had never expected this.

“uh.. hi, lovie.”

his tone was hesitant and unsure, her lips parting as her eyes widened.

it was an absolute mess.

one would never know their countertops were dark marble: because they were caked in every kitchen ingredient imaginable. there was batter on the floor and spilled all over the front of the oven, two cracked eggs on the floor in front of the open refrigerator. harry was covered in frosting and pink glitter, staring at her with wide eyes as his hands were wrapped around a makeshift piping bag.

she burst out laughing.

she couldn’t help it.

small giggles morphed into loud laughs, her bags dropping to the floor as her arms went around her midsection. harry stood up straight, a pout on his face as he watched her laugh at his stupidity, eyebrows furrowing. she swore her knees almost gave way, tears starting to leak from her eyes as she held onto the wall next to her. her lungs were burning from laughter, shouts of “i can’t!” between her giggles.

harry frowned. he looked around, his eyes widening a bit when he realizes how much of a mess he’s made.

“h-how—” she broke into laughter. her arm reached shakily, pointing to the light dangling over the island. “h-how did flour get there?”

harry looked.

sure enough, there was globs of wet flour and batter stuck to the ceiling and light, a solid ten feet above where harry was working on this cake.

he pouted again when her giggles weren’t quieting.

“y’know… when most husbands mess up or make themselves look dumb their wives tell them it’s the thought that counts, or summat.” his lip was jutted, his hands throwing down the frosting and his arms crossing over his chest.

her laughs slowly calmed, her body trembling and more tears leaking from her eyes. she sniffled, chuckling, fingers wiping her cheeks.

“aw, bub.” she bit her lip, stifling more laughs. “what on earth have you done? i know we talked about redecorating, but…” she laughed again.

harry looked down at his failed cake, the one undisguisable from even being so, heaps of frosting and sprinkles layered on top of a soupy mess.

she padded over to him, grinning. “i’m sorry for laughing.” she lied completely, her lips pulling inward as her arms wrapped around his waist.

his hand came to her back, lips frowning. “wanted this to work.”

“it’s very sweet of you, baby.” she leant up, planting a kiss on his cheek, a bit of frosting catching on her lip.

she hummed, eyes lighting excitedly. “the frosting tastes delicious!”

he pouted. “the one thing i didn’t make.” he mumbled, pouting again.

she could have had another laughing episode right then and there. but she held it in, biting her lip. “i’m sorry, bubby.” her fingers combed his hair. “why don’t you um...” she snorted, “go shower and i’ll clean up, yeah?”

he shook his head and whined. “i wanted to set things up for you.” he frowned. “wanted to make you feel special and all that.” his accent was thick, voice low and posture slouched over.

“you always make me feel special.” she murmured, going on her toes to kiss him softly. he sighed into her, his arms slowly pulling her closer to him. she pulled away, pecking his nose and smiling. “y’can feed me the chocolate covered strawberries i got, yeah?”

he paused, pulling back. “what?”

she gazed at him. “the strawberries i got on my way home.”

“what d’you mean?” his eyes widened. 

“remember i said i would grab dessert on my way?”

he faltered.

there’s no way.

“what— when was this said?!” he breathed out, eyebrows pinching inward.

“last night, bub.” she smiled, then her lips parted. “do not tell me you did all of this because you thought nobody had bought dessert.”

he fumbled with his fingers, cheeks blushing. “...no.”

her head dipped forward, giggles falling from her lips as he frowned in embarrassment. he started this night off thinking he was dumb enough to forget dessert, but he really forgot that he wasn’t even responsible for it.

“i need wine.” he mumbled, his love still giggling into his chest and he smiled sheepishly. “i just— ‘m sorry, lovie.”

she grinned. “you give me a new adventure every day that reminds me why i married your dumb ass, h.”

he chuckled. “i’m glad.” and then a second later “i guess.”

she kissed him lightly. “we’ll remember this valentines day, for sure.” she laughed. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“you’re gonna join me?” he smirked.

“save that for later, y’know, after dessert.” she smiled.

“or…” he pondered. “i can eat my dessert now.”

her eyebrows furrowed. he grinned charmingly, and bent, scooping her up and holding her under her thighs as he walked, his girl giggling and squealing as he quickly padded to their bedroom. he kicked open the door, hiking her up so her face met his. he grinned impishly.

“i suddenly have a sweet tooth.”

[lansdellicious]

Experiencing Raymonds

Given the relatively small population of St. John’s and environs (just over a quarter million people, give or take), we have a lot of restaurants. What we don’t have in abundance is fine dining; in fact, Raymonds might be the only one in the province. Despite having eaten at a lot of restaurants over the last few years, we have avoided Raymonds for a few reasons: it’s far from cheap, the menu is not published in advance, and it can be hard to get a table there. I had precisely zero experience with a tasting menu before the night, and I was slightly concerned that multiple dishes would be something I didn’t like. As you may know if you’ve read any of my reviews here before, I have been trying to expand my tastes somewhat. A recent promotion at work gave us the excuse we needed to celebrate, so we bit the bullet and booked the table. We had no idea what was waiting for us.

A caveat: Raymonds is not for everyone. While the staff are incredibly accommodating and patient in explaining the menu options and ingredients, the choices are relatively set. There’s a five- and seven-course tasting menu, and a three-course menu that is somewhat à la carte. If one of the courses is something you just can’t eat they will try to make a substitution, but ultimately it’s down to the chef. The price is also high: the five-course menu is $125 per person, with an additional $80 if you go with the wine pairings (selected by the in-house sommelier and manager Jeremy Bonia). Not an everyday outing, that’s for sure. 

We went for the five-course option, which actually ended up being more like eight courses by the time all the extras were provided. As adventurous as I wanted to get, I couldn’t stretch to trying scallops so we were able to substitute them for a beef option (more on that soon). We opted against the wine pairings this time, though I think when we go back we’ll take that plunge too. 

You can tell a meal is going to be something special when the bread and butter they bring you to open the palate is better than most appetizers you’ve had, ever. House-made sourdough would have been great on its own, but it was served with whipped house-made smoked butter. I had never before had smoked butter, and now I am ruined forever. All future butter will either be smoked or inferior. I could have eaten it with a spoon.

This was somehow the beet dish, a beet and apple salad with ricotta, toasted red fife, and a topping of both beet and apple “glass” and some sort of hardened foam that melted in your mouth. I really don’t know how to describe this, except for “total tongue assault”. The combination of flavours and textures made every part of the palate sing. The apples were tart and crisp, the beets had their characteristic sweetness but were also pickled, the ricotta was exceedingly light and creamy, and the red fife gave a nutty undertone. The “glass” on the top was made from the juices of the apples and beets used in the dish, somehow turned solid and wafer-thin. If you can picture the thin film of ice that forms on puddles just as the temperature drops below freezing, that’s the texture. The flavour was intense with a subtle smoky, almost ashy taste that worked so well with everything else. The bread-looking stuff on the top was the foam that served almost as a tuile, and added a really light and airy crisp. When the waiter explained the dish as if he himself had conceived of it, I knew this was going to be unlike any meal I had ever had. 

On to the pasta course, a moose ragout on orrechiette with more ricotta and finely-diced carrot, topped with a toasted breadcrumb. In the 20 years I have lived in Newfoundland, I have had so many people tell me that I would love moose. So I dutifully try it and dislike it, until the next person tells me that nobody else knows how to cook it and I should try it the way they cook it. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Now I can legitimately say that nobody else knows how to cook moose. This was tender almost to melting point, with a hint of the earthiness that had been overpowering and off-putting to me before. The ricotta here was of a different texture and flavour than in the previous dish, and it gave an excellent additional dimension to the dish. The pasta was pleasantly al dente, and the whole dish felt like a warm hug from the inside. High-end comfort food if you will. Although I did really enjoy this, I didn’t get the intensity of flavour from the ragout that I expected. It needed a bit more punch and depth I think. Sarah loved it more than me, but I still really enjoyed it. 

Left to my own devices I would not normally order ribeye this rare. It was served in a veal and chanterelle jus (not the last time we will see chanterelles tonight) with a parsnip puree and charred broccoli and leeks. I just...I have no words. If you watch any cooking shows you have heard the term caramelization, but I never really fathomed how important it was until I ate this. No fancy seasonings, no special sauces, just a depth of beefy salty flavour that seemed so wonderfully natural. The jus added even more depth to the meat, and almost seemed to bridge the gap between the beef and the vegetables. The parsnip puree was perfectly smooth and slightly sweet, and the charred leeks in particular were beautifully done. “Meat and two veg” might be a British cliché for Sunday dinner, but this was that old chestnut rehashed and mastered. 

Lamb three ways was up next: loin on the left, tenderloin on the right and lamb belly underneath. The loin was a touch disappointing and lacking in flavour, although the tenderloin made up for it. Both cuts were greatly enhanced by (yet-again) perfect caramelization. Sarah loves lamb and enjoyed hers much more, but her loin looked less fatty than mine so that may have been the difference. 

I had not even heard of lamb belly before (as a meal, obviously I know lambs had bellies...), and it was an interesting offering. Definitely less fatty than the more common pork belly, but with a flavour that was actually pronounced. It was glazed with a black apple glaze and garnished with unripe blackcurrants, but the flavour on the glaze was either too subtle for me or just didn’t come through. I don’t remember what the jus was but it was delicious. On the side we had more parsnip puree and sliced celeriac. I’ve seen celeriac in supermarkets before and it did not look appealing, but the flavour was like parsnip with a hint of celery. Probably because it is related to them both. 

Next up we had a “pre-dessert” as our waiter Julian called it - blueberries poached in brown butter with a chanterelle and blueberry pound cake, chanterelle meringue (!!) and chanterelle ice cream (!!!). Again, something I would never in a million years ordered on its own. Who’d even think of chanterelle ice cream? That said, this was a surprisingly good a refreshing amuse-bouche before the dessert. I am not normally a fan of blueberries, but they were good here with the brown butter. Pound cake is almost always delightful, and the addition of chanterelles almost seemed to lighten the usually dense cake. The real treats though were the meringue and ice cream. Sarah isn’t a big meringue fan but even she really enjoyed the lightness of it, and the ice cream had such a clean and subtle flavour that I finally understand the term “palette cleanser.” A bonus course, you say? Don’t mind if I do!

It’s not often I have to google an ingredient, but I had never heard of sea buckthorn before. One of the things mentioned in the description was that its flavour is enhance by something called maltolactic fermentation. Lactic, as in milk? Well that’s helpful. It was served as a curd, topped with a streusel and milk sorbet. The flavour is very hard to quantify: it reminded me of passion fruit, sour orange, mango and bakeapple all at the same time. The milk sorbet did wonders to mellow the tartness of the berries, which Sarah found stronger than I did. Definitely a unique flavour, but one I really want to work into a cheesecake somehow. To cap the meal off (in addition to our coffees), a lemon verbeena salted caramel was served, A delightful little treat to send us home.

Aside from how much I enjoyed everything, I think the biggest surprise to me was that despite the small serving sizes I was pleasantly full at the end of the meal. The service was impeccably friendly and helpful, not at all snobby as once could be forgiven for thinking. The decor really is reminiscent of every high-end restaurant you’ve seen on TV, complete with waiters with one arm in the small of their back. If you have an occasion to celebrate and/or the income to manage it, you owe it to yourself to visit Raymonds, It is not a meal you eat so much as it is a food experience, and I am a more rounded person for having done so.

Now to plan the return trip...

[kakasaku-shipper]

Natural Progression (Chapter 5)

Chapter 5

Sakura did a stretch as she finally completed her rounds. It was satisfying to hear the cracks of air bubbles leaving her joints as she straightened her spine. It had been a fantastic day so far. Firstly, she had woken up well rested and she had been pleasantly surprised by Sasuke who had gotten her breakfast. She did not expect that he could find a really good strawberry cheesecake! Her job earlier wasn't as difficult or draining as it had been in the past few days; she even had a lunch break! How great was that? And to top the day off, she actually finished her shift right on time. It gave her plenty of time to read the scrolls Kakashi gave, heck maybe she could try to find him for a taijutsu training before she read the scrolls. Maybe, just maybe she could wheedle out some genjutsu tips even before reading the texts.

As she stepped out of the hospital, Saskura smiled as she took in her surroundings. It had been a while since she could take a slow walk and appreciate the smallest things around her. It was easy to overlook the scenery Konoha had to offer when she was so on edge, too preoccupied preparing for the war.

"Sakura-chan!!!"

Sakura looked up as she heard Naruto's voice. There he was, with a ton of his clones helping the craftsmen putting together roof tiles. She grinned at him, waving as she watched a clone jumped down in front of her.

"Nee, nee, I have a question."

"What is it?"

"How do you cook vegetables?"

"Huh?" Sakura blurted out in bewilderment. That was a very random question.

"You see, I'm trying to fulfill the promise I had to kaa-chan. She told me to eat healthy and eat lots of veggies. I hate them because they taste gross but a promise is a promise. So now I need to learn how to cook them, since eating them raw will give me stomach ache, right?" Naruto asked with a tilt of his head.

Sakura laughed at his question. It was so Naruto. "Well, vegetables generally won't give you stomach ache even when you eat them raw. What kind of vegetables are you looking at?"

"I don't know the names, all I know is they're all green," Naruto said as his face twisted into a grimace. "They all look gross."

"Don't you at least read what the supermarket said it was?" Sakura asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Eh I don't know since I'm not the one buying them," Naruto shrugged. At Sakura's puzzled look, he continued, "Kakashi-sensei used to drop it at my house while nagging for me to eat them. But nowadays they're just in the fridge."

Sakura smiled softly at what she had heard. She knew that Kakashi cared about his students, but knowing that he had always showed it, thanklessly, and to such lengths was heartwarming. And he also gave Naruto what he craved most, attention, even though the blond was probably too daft to realise it.

"Why don't you show me what you have? I have a bit of time."

"Awesome!" Naruto exclaimed in excitement as he waved at his clones and skipped his way home with an amused Sakura trailing after him.

When Sakura saw the content of Naruto's fridge, she was surprised to not find any foreign growths on it. Then again, Naruto only cooked ramen, and the only content in his fridge were the bowl of vegetables, a few cartons of milk and some eggs. She also realised that Kakashi had purposefully chosen vegetables that didn't need to be cooked. All of them were the basic ingredients to make salad. After telling Naruto that all he needed was to cut them up into bite sized pieces and eat them with salad dressing, she promised to teach him how to cook some other types vegetables next time.

"By the way, Naruto, shouldn't we be having a team 7 plus catch up session soon? We haven't even had all the original team 7 members gathered together since the war. Maybe we should do it over a nabe? There will be lots of veggies, and it will taste good!"

"Isn't nabe a pot where you just boil the ingredients? I've been boiling the veggies and they taste blergh!" Naruto hissed with disgust clear on his voice.

"That's because you boil them with just water. You need to add seasonings to make them taste good."

"Oh! like ramen!"

"Yes, like ramen. But don't use ramen seasoning, 'cos it's not healthy. There are other things that you can use to season your food. I'll take you to the supermarket in my next day off," Sakura offered as she gave him a soft smile. Naruto, despite being the village hero and also the saviour of the shinobi world, will always be Naruto to her. He will always be the gullible brother she never had.

…

When Sakura got home, she could smell miso soup being cooked. She peeked into the kitchen and saw her mother humming while mixing the soup. "Do we have eggplants, mama?" Sakura asked as she began to rummage through the fridge.

"It's on the bottom drawer. Are you trying to suck up to your Kakashi-sensei?" Mebuki asked teasingly.

"NO!" Sakura denied. At her mother's knowing look, she cowed, "well, not really.."

"So it's a yes."

"Maybe," Sakura answered sheepishly as she began to cut up the eggplant and added them to the soup. At her mother's echoing laughter, Sakura began to giggle too. Mothers always knew what was up.

…

With a soup container in her hand, and a couple of onigiri, courtesy of her mother, Sakura began to walk over to Kakashi's house. She had sent out katsuyu and her summon had confirmed that her target was home. As Sakura reached his apartment building, she didn't bother with the stairs. Instead, she leaped up to his floor and landed just outside of his door.

"It's not locked," came a voice from inside.

Sakura slowly opened the door to see Kakashi lounging on his couch, almost buried in a pile of scrolls. He gave her an eye-crease and motioned her to come in, while he started to tidy up the mess.

"I see that you've come to bribe me."

"It's not bribe," Sakura said with an eye roll. After putting her shoes aside, she padded towards his dining table. "Thank you for always buying me food, sensei. And for Naruto too."

"Maa.. It's nothing," Kakashi said bashfully. Sakura squinted her eyes at Kakashi's direction. Were Kakashi's ears red? It coudn’t be.. Or could it?

"I'm impressed that you know exactly what I wanted eat."

"You eat the exact same thing every time we go on missions. It's not S-ranked jutsu*."

"But you remember my exact order, even Ino still got it wrong till now."

"Well my memory is just that much better than hers," Kakashi said with a shrug.

"She won't be too happy hearing that."

"She won't," Kakashi conceded. "How is she coping?"

Sakura sighed. "I don't know.. I haven't spoken to her since we returned. I'm actually planning to see her tomorrow and maybe drag her to binge watch on some trashy romcom movies while binging on ice cream.."

"Sounds fun."

"Yep, it would be. Getting sick from too much ice cream is always worth it, even the calories."

Sakura waved off Kakashi's incredulous look as she set the table for him.

"Are you up for some training?" Sakura asked.

"Hmm.. I'm free for the rest of the day. What's your shift looking like?"

"I have the midnight shift later tonight and depending on the patient volume I may get a day off tomorrow instead of another midnight shift."

"Then we'll get you started on your genjutsu practice before taijutsu sparring."

"Sounds good," Sakura said as she plopped herself on Kakashi's chair and began to open her scroll. Kakashi took a seat opposite her and clapped his hand in appreciation to the food. A thought suddenly popped into Sakura's head, maybe she could use this opportunity to peak under his mask..

And when Sakura glanced back up at Kakashi, she saw that the miso soup has been demolished and he had taken a bite of the onigiri on his hand. Sakura narrowed her eyes at Kakashi. She had only looked away for what, a second?

"Hmm?" Kakashi tilted his head quizzically, looking far way too innocent. So, Sakura did what a mature kunoichi her age would at the situation. She scowled at him and confiscated the rest of the onigiri, keeping the plate right next to her, out of reach from Kakashi. Satisfied with herself, she want back to reading.

Just as her eyes found the text she had left off, she felt a breeze next to her. As she looked to her right, she saw that the onigiri plate was empty. She immediately turned her head towards Kakashi and she saw him munching down a mouthful while holding the last piece of onigiri. Sakura pouted and sighed in resignation. All those progress and she still couldn't take a peek on her sensei's face.

"You're still a hundred years too early, o' young grasshopper," Kakashi said mockingly as he gave her a smirk.

"Hmph!" Sakura turned her head away from him as her pout deepen. It's not fair! She was so sooo close she could taste the victory of winning that longstanding bet. Just how did Kakashi do it?

Kakashi stood up from his seat towards Sakura. As he began to ruffle her hair, and Sakura immediately swatted his hand away, still petulantly not looking at him. Kakashi chuckled as he walked to his couch to get some of the document.

"Is there any tips you can give me before I read these scrolls?" Sakura asked as Kakashi returned to his seat.

"Everything there is pretty much self explanatory. Just read through it, and once you think you've understood enough you're very welcome to test it out on me."

Sakura nodded as Kakashi and her began to read in silence. The genjutsu he had picked for her were anesthesia and camouflage, which would be very useful for a front line medic nin like her. And true enough, the scrolls were easy to understand, and she could apply it easily. In just under two hours, she had two new genjutsu under her belt.

"So, sensei," Sakura called out as she rolled up her scrolls. "What did you make Sasuke-kun do? Since you knew that he was breaking his confinement rule?"

"Hmm? Nothing too bad I suppose."

Sakura shuddered at his answer. She didn't believe him. If it's ‘nothing too bad', he would have told her, like that time he let her and Sasuke watched Naruto catch Tora and bathe the feral cat on his own. And when the hilarity of the situation started to turn into pity for their teammate, Kakashi made Naruto groom the devil cat as well. 

"Don't worry too much about it, Sakura. It's really nothing that bad," Kakashi said with a laugh.

"By the way you're saying it, I almost feel a shred of pity for him. Though he probably deserves whatever it was you made him do for leaving us."

"Are you still upset about it?"

"No. I've forgiven him. Sasuke-kun will always be forgiven," Sakura said wryly. It was true, no matter how badly Sasuke hurt her or Naruto, the two of them would always find it in their hearts to forgive him.

"Hard to be mad at the boy you love?" Kakashi asked playfully as he wagged his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Sakura opened her mouth to reply, but closed it almost immediately. She did not know how to reply him. She needed to stop and think, which was weird. She had always loved Sasuke, right?

"So?" Kakashi asked. He was not prying too much, wasn't he? Sakura had always been very open with her love proclamation to Sasuke..

"I.. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I'm not entirely sure.. But when they were both bleeding half to death in their battle, I did not rush to Sasuke-kun's side.." Sakura started. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "When we found them in their conditions, my only thought was that I needed to save both of them.  At that moment, Sasuke-kun was not more important than Naruto which was weird, because just a few years ago I would have dropped everything to make sure that Sasuke-kun was alright, even if it means abandoning Naruto and everyone else.." Sakura rambled with a shaky breath, remembering the night Sasuke left. She would have abandoned Konoha and everyone she cared about just to follow Sasuke, had he let her. "It's so weird that I don't seem to hold Sasuke-kun in the same pedestal as I did before. And that I care about Sasuke-kun as much as I care about Naruto.."

After a few moments of silence, Sakura realised just who she was talking to. She groaned as she buried her face in her hands, "I'm sorry for rambling, Sensei."

"With Ino out of commission for the time being, I don't mind listening to your love adventures," Kakashi said with a teasing glint, causing Sakura's face to turn red.

"Ugh, what have I done," Sakura moaned miserably. She really really made a huge mistake opening her big mouth.

"Well, you'll have time to figure everything out. It's not like Sasuke will run away any time soon."

"Yeah," Sakura sighed. How did talking about something so innocent like Sasuke's punishment turned her thoughts into such muddled mess?

"Should we practice some taijutsu now?" Kakashi asked, changing the subject as he got up from his chair.

"Yes!" Sakura said eagerly.  Anything to get Kakashi to stop teasing her. That was mortifying!

…

Sakura slumped against the tree behind her as she was sent flying by a particularly hard kick to her abdomen. Just 15 minutes into sparring, she was already so exhausted that she could feel lactic acid building up in her muscles. The ninjustsu that she had activated in the beginning of the spar to clear the build-up was not fast enough to catch up. And to think that she could usually spar for hours! She glared at Kakashi, who was not even winded.

"How could you improve so much in just three days? This is so unfair!" Sakura groaned. Three days ago she could almost land a hit. But now, she felt like a genin again.

"I have been training intensively with Lee," Kakashi replied as he sat beside her to check the damage he did. Noting that nothing was broken and she was just bruised, Kakashi placed his hand on her shoulder to transfer her some chakra, just enough for her to heal herself.

"But how?" Sakura asked as she gave him a grateful nod and began to soothe over her blackened skin.

"I started using chakra when training with Lee to improve my speed. And using chakra means I need less muscle movements, which reduces fatigue."

"But aren’t you not exhausted? The chakra consumption for that is pretty large."

"Not at all," Kakashi said with a grin. "I can almost do four times the amount of chidori now."

Sakura parted her mouth in admiration, that was impressive. And she learnt three things from his words. One, Kakashi originally had a huge chakra reserve; two, the sharingan consumes much more chakra than she had thought; three, a transplanted sharingan consumes chakra even when it was inactive in non-Uchiha.

“But that jutsu is moot now. I'll have to synthesize a new one," Kakashi said with a sigh. He liked chidori. Really liked it. It was simple enough, and it gets the job done quickly.

"I'm not going to help you with this one," Sakura said with a shudder. She had seen Shino trying to create a new jutsu. And things did not end well for Kiba at all.

"I'm actually planning to make Sasuke my guinea pig for being the punk that he was."

"I really feel sorry for him now," Sakura said sincerely. Was it just her or did Kakashi's tone sounded very sinister?

"Maa.. Don't be. He's a big boy and he can handle it. It's just.. his hair is going to look much worse than it is now by the time I'm done," Kakashi said with an eye-crease.

Sakura guffawed, trying to picture Sasuke's hair sticking out in all directions from being electrocuted, with the sullen expression of a petulant kid on his face. And Naruto rolling around, laughing at him..

"Well, I supposed that there are worse things in life," Kakashi said grimly.

At that Sakura agreed, "There are."

 After parting with Sakura at the training ground, Kakashi spotted Choza Akimichi, who was looking at the menu of a newly built restaurant.

"Choza-san," Kakashi greeted. "How are Shikamaru and Ino-chan coping?"

"Ah, Kakashi," Choza greeted back, as he gave him a tired smile. "Shika is more quiet than usual, but at least, it isn't as bad as Asuma's death.. Probably because he has had the experience of losing someone very precious to him, and this time around, he was fortunate enough to not witness Shikaku dying right in front of his eyes. And also, he knew that there was nothing he could do to save Shikaku, unlike that time with Asuma.." Choza said. "As for Ino-chan, she's not doing as well. Her mother said that she hasn't stopped crying."

Kakashi nodded solemnly. Losing your teammates were hard. But losing your family, it was way, way harder. “We'll have the wake for the fallen soon, won't we?"

"Yes," Choza replied. After a few moments of silence, Choza took a deep, shaky breath. "Kakashi," Choza began. "Do you ever feel guilty for being alive?"

"All the time," Kakashi replied as he too faced the menu. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, but he couldn't look at the man in front of him either. Losses were always very personal, and very painful.

"You're a strong boy, Kakashi," Choza said as he squeezed Kakashi's shoulders. "This is the first time I've ever experienced the death of comrades who meant everything to me. I can't even begin to imagine how you've coped all these time.."

"I don't," Kakashi replied honestly. Because you could never cope with the thought that your team was gone forever, especially if it was your fault that it had happened in the first place. "But I know that the world moves on even without them, and the only thing that I can do to honor their memory is to try to stop one less person from becoming like me."

"Thank you." Choza said as he patted Kakashi's back once more. Kakashi nodded at him, as they parted ways.

…

A/N

1. For the S-ranked jutsu part, it would make more sense if I use the phrase 'It's not rocket science'. But this is Naruto, and they don't have rocket science.. Well, not in the current timeline at least, since 'technologies' don't come into play at least until Boruto's timeline.

2. Genjutsu is so underplayed in Naruto! I mean you can use it for basically a lot of things other than mind-fucking people. Like camouflage, anaesthesia (cue story) and also maybe, hiding one’s face when eating since you can’t really eat through a mask. You see, Sasuke is the only person Kakashi have to watch out to when eating.

[imnoexpertblog]

Carbs - I'll Eat Them While I Can

5/14/18

Its Monday! I ate the worst that I have eaten in months over the weekend. Granted, I had two birthday gatherings for my 22nd so it makes sense. But I am still regretful. I feel bloated and I can’t wait to get my free bag of detox tea this week. It was also Mother’s Day weekend which means we had a couple of get-togethers for that as well. Baby and Nugget got me a card with a gift certificate for my first professional massage! Baby also made me my own Mother’s Day brunch at home! It was an omelet with everything I love; mushrooms, onion, cheese, salsa, bacon, sausage. Mmmm, so good. It was really sweet of Baby to get me something for Mother’s Day. I would not expect anything, considering we are not married and I am obviously not Nugget’s mother. They both know I love and treat him as if he is my own though and it was just really nice to be recognized as a motherly role in this life. Baby’s family also wished me a Happy Mother’s Day, along with mine. I wasn’t expecting so many people to say that to me! It was very new to me and honestly very exciting. I do everything with my two men in mind so this was a great day to be appreciated a little extra. I’m just happy everyone can see how much I love these two. I hope your Mother’s Day was as great as mine, whether you’re a mother or not. Now let’s talk about some food!

Baby is going Keto. I know very little about it, other than the fact that it’s a high fat and low carb diet, which is great for him because he is definitely a meat-eater. I am sure that once I consume the food that he cannot eat that we still have in the house, I will most likely give it a shot too. It’s really hard to change something so large in your lifestyle, like your diet. It’s even harder when the person you live with has a completely opposite outlook or mindset. I wouldn’t want to be stuck eating something less appetizing while I watch my partner down my favorite snacks that I can no longer have. Baby has learned quite a bit about the Keto diet and I am eager the find more out, as well. He lost about six pounds in eight days, I believe he said. One of my best friends at work, Ryan, has been on his Keto diet for about five or six weeks now and has lost over 15 pounds and kept it off. Good for them! I wouldn’t do it do lose weight, I have already lost 30 pounds since late July of 2017. I would do it for health purposes and to see if I feel better without all the carbs I usually take in. I will get more into it once I actually learn about it. Baby is making me watch the Keto-related The Magic Pill documentary on Netflix tomorrow so I will have to let you all know how that knows and what I think about it. As much as I think it would suck to have to give up carbs, there’s still so much you get to eat. Baby said it’s the most enjoyable diet he’s ever tried. We will see!

Straight from Keto to Carbs. I wanted to tell you about overnight oats. I have wanted to give these a whirl for years but just tried them this weekend. Emily, also featured in my last food blog, told me to try these for work! I love them and I will for sure be eating these until my ingredients are all gone (and I will have to try Keto). Using a mason jar (the standard size, I’m pretty sure), layer approximately ½ cup rolled oats, 1 tbsp chia seeds, whatever fruit you like, and a bit of brown sugar or vanilla extract. An awesome flavor combo is peanut butter and banana. After all that, pour in 2/3 cup of your choice of milk; 2%, almond, coconut, etc. I also add in about 1/3 cup of Greek yogurt to thicken it up. Pop it in the fridge overnight and you’ll have your quick and easy breakfast in the morning! The chia seeds offer a great complex carb to provide long-lasting energy without having to take in a bunch of calories. The fruit you’re getting from this meal is also a great way to start the day. “Chocolate covered strawberry” could have strawberries and chocolate chips in it. Peanut butter and honey is super good. “Cinnamon apple” would be delicious. “Peaches and cream” could consist of peach slices and sweet cream! For “raspberry cheesecake,” add cream cheese and raspberries. To make it chocolate based, add cocoa powder. This sky is the limit! Grab come mason jars next time you’re out and give these a go.

Okay, not everything we eat is going to be very good for us. So, let me tell you about my jalapeno popper burgers. Yes. They are as good as they sound. Of course, I will tell you how to make them, but I don’t always measure everything, so forgive me if I leave out measurements. 1) Beef. Get 2 pounds of it. Season it. Onion salt, garlic powder, pepper, cumin. Mix that up. 2) The jalapeno popper filling. Mix 6 oz. of cream cheese, 1 cup of shredded cheddar cheese, 2 minced jalapenos (I don’t always include all the seeds), and garlic powder. 3) Shape the burgers into 8 thin patties to make four stuffed burgers. 5) Spoon filling onto four of them, and place the other four on top of them. Pinch the sides of the patties together. Cook in a skillet over medium heat for about 5 minutes each side. You will want to bake them in oven at about 350 degrees because these can be pretty thick. 5 minutes will keep them at medium, bake for longer for a more well-done burger. I serve these with pepper jack cheese and lettuce on toasted buns. I also put the lettuce underneath the patty to catch the grease, that way your bottom bun is not soggy. Add any condiment you like or slap some extra filling on top of the patty if you end up with any! Cook times will vary depending on the size and thickness of the burger. Adjust whatever you need in order to make these perfect for you. I love these with sweet potato fries.

Wow, I want those burgers so badly now. Baby and I have been on a burger kick lately. I have probably eaten 10 in the last couple weeks. No complaints from me, though. Burgers are my favorite. We actually have gotten Nugget to eat burgers now! A little backstory, Nugget would only eat about three things when I met him and his father. He’d eat chicken nuggets, pizza, and pb&j sandwiches. I also saw him eat the frosting off a donut once. In the last 8-9 months, Baby and I have gotten him to start eating hot dogs, corn, burgers, spaghetti, green beans, eggs, yogurt, ravioli, baked beans, a ton of fruit, cereals, just a bunch of stuff. This is a continuous adventure with him and it’s going really well as of about four months ago. It used to be very hard to have him open up to some things but he just ate a sloppy joe for the first time (I am pretty sure) tonight! I grew up with the option to eat what everyone was eating, or nothing at all. Eating nothing at all was barely even an option, but my mother never served me what she wouldn’t eat herself. She never pushed brussel sprouts or peas on me, for example. I always ask Nugget to try something before he thinks he doesn’t like it. I also try not to tell him that I don’t like something before he tries it. He has discovered he likes peas and I hate peas. I just won’t tell him that. I also know to be sensitive with him when it comes to texture; I can tell he has a hard time with the texture of some foods rather than the taste. But getting him to eat more foods has been a big success in our household these past few months! Is it hard to get your kids to eat? Do you have any tricks? Comment below! We will chat health and beauty soon. I hope your Monday isn’t too rough on ya!

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  Slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

Tags  @talesmaniac89​ @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth@anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83​ @atc74 @sandlee44​ @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy​ @abuavnee​ @hearteyes-j2​ @vicmc624​ @440mxs-wife​ @wonder-cole  @maralisa124​ @krazykelly​​

[itsanerdlife]

Captivated (MC Series) 14

Pairing: Biker!Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Merlin, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Scott Lang, Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Michelle Unwin, Frank Castle, Roxy, (Mentions of) Harry Hart, OFC Logan and Markus, Tony Stark, Charlie Hesketh.

Warnings: Swearing, creepy boss, a girl who can handle her own, stalking, creepy guy, law breaking, random hook ups mentioned, angst, sass, drama, cops involved, sexual harassment (nothing happens tho promise), melt downs, and allegations of abuse.

In your town there is a Biker club Called Kings Rebels, you weren’t a good girl and you surely weren’t a biker girl, or were you? One night changes everything in your life. You started that night out as a hostel waitress who works in Stark Tavern, one ass grab and a sucker punch later, did you just slip the Pres of a Biker Club, Eggsy Unwin, your work hours? But is MC life for you, being an old lady? When your faith is tested for the club, they follow through with everything Eggsy promised you. Will your world stay upside down since walking into the Clubhouse, or do you fit into their lifestyle more than you ever thought possible??

Markus and Logan left, looking to hook up with a few friends before the dinner. Y/N practically broke their hands making them promise to be at the clubhouse on time. The knock on the door, made Eggsy tense, as he checks the peep hole, seeing Clint and Merlin, he relaxed pulling open the door.

“What’s up?” He ushers them in.

“We decided to check the cameras facing the drive and the street. See if we could see anything about the person she saw.” Merlin nods, looking around.

“She’s in the kitchen, I doubt she can hear you.” He snorts, she had her speaker playing music, from her phone as she moved around the kitchen. “Find anything?” He steps closer to them.

“Yeah. Whoever it is, they park out of view of the cameras, always has a ball cap low on their face.” Clint nods.

“Always?” Eggsy’s chest tightens.

“They only show up on nights she’s at the clubhouse.” Clint nods.

“They’re following her?” His jaw clenches.

“Or the both of you.” Merlin adds. This doesn’t settle the anger spinning in Eggsy’s chest.

“Tell the boys, I want everyone at the table before dinner. Tonight.” He nods.

“We’ll spread the word.” Clint nods, the two of them leaving quickly. As Eggsy regains his composure, he hears Y/N in the kitchen, she’s singing along to another song. No that’s not singing. He steps back into the kitchen watching her, she’s adding ingredients to a large mixing bowl. She’s rapping, Eggsy presses his lips together, watching her.

“Are you rapping?” He chuckles. She looks up surprised, shrugging. “That’s cute.” He couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable, she was baking for his club, in her own kitchen.

“I love this song.” She mutters, flipping on the mixer.

“What is it?” He never hear the song playing.

“Him & I. Halsey and G-Eazy.” She grins at him.

“Start it over? If you like it, it must be good.” He leans against the counter as she reaches over starting the song over, her lips moving to the lyrics as she watches her cheesecake come together.

Y/N helped his mom wipe the tables down, when the kids started arriving she was the first one they got attached too. She was playing with Daisy, Eggsy’s little sister and Nathanial, Clint’s youngest son when he closed the doors to the chapel. But that didn’t drown out the baby giggles and Y/N’s voice, making the gruff looking, leather cladded guys around the table laugh.

“Easy buddy, you’re a little young for me.” She laughs. Eggsy’s brow crinkles as he listens.

“Nathanial is going through a phase of putting his hand down any girl’s shirt at the moment.” Clint nods, chuckling.

“You’re three year old is gotten farther than I have.” Eggsy laughs, the room laughing along. “Alright I have a few things to talk over with you, somethings have come to my attention since church this morning.” He nods. Explaining that someone was indeed following Y/N, that it was either tied to her, or the club. “Either someone is following her, or someone is following the both of us.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to command guys, but I am going to ask, any of you willing to take the time to watch her? Work, Errands, no walking home like she thinks is okay to do.” He looks up at the filled table of men.

“I will.” Peter speaks up first, nodding.

“You sure?” Eggsy looks at him.

“Absolutely. I like her. She’s good for you. For the club. I’d be glad to take the time to keep her safe while you aren’t around.” Peter nods, a small smile on his face.

“Count me in.” Scott lifts his hand. Making the room look over in surprise.

“Brother?” Eggsy snorts.

“I owe her. Besides I’d rather be on her good side.” He gives a bashful grin.

“I won’t make this a command. She’s not my old lady. But it means the world to me you stepping up.” Eggsy nods, patting the table with his hand.

“Count me and Clint in.” Frank’s deep voice breaks the quiet of the room.

“Both of you?” Eggsy’s brow snaps up.

“Peter and Scott can’t watch her every time. Someone will catch on to that. Besides she’s good to my kids, and she means something to you. That’s reason enough to help her out.” Clint nods. The table murmurs, agreeing.

“You can count on any of us.” Steve speaks up, looking around the room. “Just say the word.” He smirks.

“Alright. Let’s go eat. Y/N made enough cheesecake for the damn town.” Eggsy laughs, pushing his chair back, the other guys laugh doing the same, all standing up leaving the room.

“Why does this cheesecake look,” Roxy holds up the cake, looking at Y/N and him. “like the inbred cousin?” She laughs, Y/N chokes on wine.

“Hey!” Eggsy looks at her. “I worked hard on that one.” He points at the cheesecake.

“So we’re going to leave this one for last, you know in case.” Roxy nods, looking at the pan as if it might be contaminated.

“Who is she?” Markus leans towards Eggsy, looking back at Roxy.

“My best friend, Roxy. She does the books, and payroll around here.” He nods.

“She’s the girl that helped Nat keep the other tarts back when I was talking to Hanna.” Y/N looks from Roxy to him.

“Talking to?” Eggsy snorts.

“What did you do?” Logan grins leaning in.

“Nothing.” Y/N waves her hand at him. They look to Eggsy.

“Bitch slapped her so hard she hit the ground, then threatened her. Offered to break her jaw.” Eggsy nods, picking up his glass taking a drink. Y/N turns swatting him in the chest.

“Keep it up and I’ll do the same for you.” She laughs threatening him. His brow comes up as he grins at her. Markus leans towards them once more.

“Right hook, bro. Right hook.” He shakes his head, laughing. Y/N flips him the bird, making both her brothers laugh.

Captivated: @mo320    @rileyloves5   @irepeldirt   @travelwithwords   @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked   @elle88531   @lesmiserablememelovingfuck   @taylorjacksonandtheolympians   @lovemarvelousfics   @mrskokitztelford   @live-for-the-avengers   @shamptainshmerica   @misspygmypie   @mariekoukie6661   @bluebird214   @allyp1023   @sarahp879   @nerdyandexhausted   @i-love-superhero   @supernatural-girl97   @petersunderroos   @kazuha159   @sweet-honey15   @ingridsigne     @red-writer13   @nessy-bearxb   @cece-daughter-of-pitch-black   @thedarklightwithinus   @itsemmyb   @debbienewnes84   @captain-princess-smash  @eggsy-unwinnn   @paranoiadestroyah   @mellxander1993   @crazyblonde124  

[mirai-eats]

Twenty Minutes Late

It’s mario kart night, and what’s a good competition without a little drama?

Voltron, klance/laith, 2,704 words, rated T, modern/college AU

MASTERPOST

The Snapchat notification sound barely beeped before Lance already reached toward his phone. He didn't even glance at the name since he already knew who it is; they've been snapchatting each other for the past two hours back and forth. Lance tapped on the pink square next to “Keith” with a knife emoji next to it (added when one night Keith showed off his knife collection) and didn't even try to suppress a smile while he read the text.

For the past few days, Lance and Keith had been in contact through Snapchat at almost all hours of the days. Keith was a little slow on responses sometimes, but that was mostly due to him having a habit of putting his phone one place and leaving it there for several hours only to come back and find a handful of messages (from Shiro mostly).

Today was the day Lance was going to see him again. Friday was the promised Mario Kart competition being held at his place. Luckily, his roommates were out and he did most of the cleaning last night so all that was left was snack shopping. Hunk promised to bring over a homemade pizza and fresh snickerdoodle cookies, that left the rest to Lance.

Refusing to make the trip down three flights of stairs to get the rest of the groceries, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and grabbed every bag in the car and made his way upstairs.

He pushed his door open with his foot and shouldered his way into the apartment, his arms laden with seven bags of groceries and the bag of sliced bread dangling from his teeth. Saturday morning is generally his grocery run but there was no harm in going a day early, especially if Pidge was coming over. Despite her size, she has a tendency to snack, so the family-size bag of Cheetos were necessary. To make a point, Lance took a snap of the pile of grocery bags strewn across the counter where Lance had thrown them in his desperation to put them down and wrote “Mr. I can mcfucking lift” then sent it to Keith.

Almost immediately, Lance got a response from Keith, and it made Lance nearly throw his phone across the kitchen. A blurred picture of a weight set at the gym, two large plates on either side of the bar and Keith’s Nike clad feet next to it. “So can I” the Snapchat read.

Instead of chucking his phone, he threw his hands in the air and groaned loudly. Keith was cute, funny, sweet, and apparently wasn't lying when he said he could probably bench press Lance. Some deep part of him now wished Keith would bench press him. He couldn't wait to see him again. He snapped back a hasty reply then got straight to work finishing the cleaning.

It's not unusual for Lance to fall fast and hard for someone, but Keith was so unlike the type he usually fell hard for. Before, it was like he did a double take and on that second take, someone would throw a cup of coffee on him when he figured out he liked someone. Keith? He was hit so hard and fell so fast it was as if Keith had physically punched his gut and threw him out the window. It's been fantastic talking to him these past few days, and Lance was ecstatic he was coming over later. But he wanted this to be the start of something. Lance wanted to take this boy on a romantic stroll in the park and treat him to his favorite pizza place, buy him a McDonald's mcflurry at three in the morning and they have talks, deep talks, in the car parked outside one of their places. Maybe cuddle up on a couch watching Netflix and they could chill, or maybe they would legitimately just chill and drink a beer.

Those fantasies kept Lance company as he got ready for tonight. Hunk said he was going to arrive earlier than everyone so he could have time to prepare the pizzas, which should be in about-

“Hey, I hope you like garlic because I have enough to keep Dracula’s whole family and everyone else you love away.” Was Hunk’s greeting as he shouldered his way into the apartment, arms loaded with grocery and freezer bags.

“Nice. I love soaking my skin in fresh garlic. What’s up, my bud?” Lance helped Hunk put everything on the now clean counters.

“Brought my knives because I hate that you only own two.”

“A big knife and a small knife is all I need for everything. It's not like I'm eating premium filet mignon with my butter knife.”

“I would personally come over and kill you if you put a butter knife near that steak.”

They set about getting everything out for the pizzas, Lance set out and opening tupperware containers full of ingredients for Hunk while he pulled out seran-wrapped dough balls from the refrigerator bag.

“Hunk, you treat us good. If I didn't have you in my life, I guarantee my diet would consist of hot pockets, pizza rolls, and those little saltine cracker packets.” Lance sighed.

“You'd be dead from all the sodium if I wasn't here to feed you fresh baked pizza and my potato salad.”

Lance gasped. “You brought the potato salad?”

“Yes and,” Hunk smacked Lance’s hand reaching for the refrigerator bag, “That’s for when everyone gets here.”

“Unfair. I thought I’m your best bud?” Lance pouted. “You are. I just want everyone else to have some too. The moment they all get here you can go ham because at that point it’ll be their own fault they didn’t get any.” “I love you.” “I know, dude.” Hunk grinned and turned back to unwrap dough balls. “Don’t Han Solo me,” Lance snorted and punched Hunk’s arm lightly. “Need me to do anything?” “Turn on the oven to 400 then you can go back to whatever you were doing before I got here.” “Gotcha.” Lance pulled out the pans he stored in the oven and placed them in a haphazard heap on the stove, then turned on the oven as Hunk instructed. At that moment, Lance’s phone made a familiar clunking sound. It was a response from his earlier Snapchat  to Keith (which he didn’t remember what he said) from a couple hours ago. He took a picture of Hunk in the kitchen, tongue poked out and brow furrowed in concentration as he beat those poor dough balls into something that resembled pizza, and stuck some heart emojis around his head. “Got the bae with me here already hurry up and bring the Wii ;)” It was another hour before everyone started to arrive, Allura and Pidge kicked down the front door and demanded Hunk’s pizzas immediately or else they would die. Shortly after, Shiro and Matt came in, albeit much quieter and toted a pie they had picked up from the bakery a few blocks away.

“Where’s Keith? Isn't he supposed to be bringing the Wii?” Pidge asked, hands already neon orange from inhaling half the bag of family sized Cheetos Lance thankfully bought earlier.

“He should be here any minute, don't worry,” Lance waved Pidge’s dusty orange fingers away from his face where she went to jab his cheek. “Get those things away from me.”

“It's not like him to be late he probably got stuck in traffic.” Shiro said.

“Relax, Pidge,” Matt patted her head and and attempt to steal some Cheetos, which earned him a firm slap on the arm. “It's been like ten minutes he'll get here when he gets here.”

“He hasn't responded to my Snapchat from earlier. I sent him a cute picture of Hunk and honestly I’m offended for Hunk that he didn't respond with like a ‘wow he’s cute’.” Lance huffed.

“Aw, thanks dude,” Hunk giggled.

“Here, I saved it. Everyone come look how cute Hunk is,” Lance pulled out his phone and showed everyone the picture he saved.

“If you didn't have Shay I’d date you myself, Hunk,” Allura said.

“Aren't you gay?” Said Hunk.

“Yeah, but you can make a mean lasagna and I would marry for that lasagna over a good orgasm any day.”

“Isn't that basically the same thing?” Matt said.

“Good point.”

Pidge nudged Hunk and pulled him down to her level by his collar and angled them away from the group. Frantically, she whispered into his ear, outside of everyone's, especially Lance’s, earshot, “Keith has a crush on Lance and he’s also an idiot so he probably thinks he lost his chance with him because the Snap makes it looks like you two are dating. He’s probably wallowing at home like the coward he is.”

“Oh, uh, we’re not?” Was Hunk’s response.

“No, you two act like it though,” Pidge practically hissed.

“Text him and see if he's really being a pining idiot at home instead of bringing the damn Wii.”

Pidge whipped out her phone and frantically shot Keith a message, only to get a response right away.

“He's at home wallowing in self pity like a dumbass.”

“Tell him he's a fool,” Hunk said, “with love, from Hunk.”

“Oh my god, should we make it worst?” A sly grin made its way across Pidge’s face.

“So like, fan the flames by acting more affectionate and domestic than usual with Lance but also act as their wingman?”

“You got it.”

Hunk frowned. “Get him over here first, then we can. Tell him he's a fool then that he shouldn't worry about that just that we’ll kill him for chickening out on Mario Kart night when he's supposed to provide the Mario Kart. Only an absolute dingus would do that. Get over it buddy. With love from Hunk.”

“You sound a little upset.” Pidge snickered and started to type out what Hunk just said.

“I am.”

Pidge turned back to the group and announced over their debate which food is better than sex (currently they were on “a really fucking good cheesecake”), “Keith should be here in ten and he's sorry, he fell asleep after the gym.”

“Tell him he's a fool,” Lance frowned.

Another ten minutes later, Keith came frantically knocking at the door. There was a race between Lance and Pidge to get to the door first, both for very different reasons.

“I want to rip his head off and feed to to the crows for being late,” Pidge growled.

Lance’s much longer legs beat Pidge by a landslide. He held Pidge back with an arm and a leg, and the other hand he used to open the door. “Hey, dude you’re twenty minutes late,” Lance said, a small frown etched on his face. “Sorry, sorry,” Keith shuffled into the apartment; a bag with what Lance assumed held the Wii was gripped close to his chest. “I got tired and took a nap after the gym but I slept later than I thought I would.” “That’s alright at least you’re here now. Hey Pidge, stop trying to kill the poor guy he’s here he has your Wii.” Lance attempted to push her off of him. “Please wash your hands before you touch my stuff,” Keith sighed. “You deserve to have Cheetos all over your ugly-ass Wii.” Pidge frowned, but turned to go wash her hands. Keith toed off his boots at the entry way with everyone else’s shoes and came fully into the apartment. A chorus of greetings at varying levels of enthusiasm met Keith when he entered the sitting room. He handed the backpack to Matt without a word and he started to set up the gaming console. Shiro tugged Keith’s arm as he had passed by where he sat on the couch to get his attention. “Hey, you alright?” Shiro whispered. “I’m fine just a little. . .” Keith’s eyes drifted over to where Lance and Hunk was standing in the kitchen pulling the mini pizzas out of the oven. “Out of it, I guess. It’s been a long week.” “Which one?” Keith’s eyes snapped back to Shiro and widened. “What?” “Hunk or Lance? Which one’s caught your little gay heart?” He whispered. Keith hesitated. He spied an unfamiliar woman, Allura he guessed from what Lance had told him, lean a little closer to where they were whispering. “It’s nothing don’t worry about it.” Keith narrowed his eyes at her. Guilty for being caught, she leaned back and threw him a dazzling smile. “You must be Keith. Shiro’s told us much about you,” Allura said, sticking her hand out to shake. “Um, you must be Allura then, right? They talk a lot about you, too.” Keith hesitantly took the manicured hand and shook it. “All good things, I hope?” she arched a white eyebrow but there was a humorous quirk to her lips. “We tell him about your unfortunate straight incident.” Lance yelled from the kitchen. She gasped. “Did they really? I told you not to tell anyone!” “Princess, it’s my favorite story to tell.” Lance’s laugh echoed through the apartment. “Okay so there are four controllers and like seven of us, who wants to go first?” Matt talked over Lance’s raucous laughter. “How about in order of arrival?” Hunk suggested. “Hey then that puts Shiro, Keith, and I last,” Matt pouted. “We brought you a pie,” Shiro said dejectedly. “Okay, Shiro’s puppy eyes are killer and I’m a gracious host so I’ll give him my spot first.” Lance said. “I hooked up your Wii and brought you pie!” Matt interjected. “I brought the Wii.” Keith protested. “Yeah, and I brought the food and was here before you guys so suck it up,” Hunk said. “But the pizza’s actually done. There’s potato salad and plates on the counter and cups in the cupboard there’s some beer, Coke, milk, and-“ Hunk opened the fridge to check, “- Cactus Cooler? Who drinks Cactus Cooler?” “I do. I asked Lance to get it.” Keith raised his hand warily.

“What kind of loser drinks Cactus Cooler?” Matt said, the tail end of his sentence was cut off by the sudden little jingle from the Wii menu.

“Keith does,” Shiro teased.

Everyone had already started moving towards the kitchen in a subtle hurry to try and get there first. Lance had dove straight for the potato salad, Pidge the margherita pizza. The rest of them sort of did a weird shuffle to try and get to the general vicinity of the pizza. Keith somehow ended up next to Lance who was scooping about a third of the potato salad onto his plate. They were squeezed so close together due to the too small kitchen and too many people in there at once they’re arms were pressed against each other.

“Sorry I was late,” Keith muttered, only loud enough for Lance to hear.

“Hey dude, don’t sweat it. Shit happens. We’re all here, everyone’s safe, and the pizza is still hot.” Lance huffed.

Keith peaked at him through his fringe, eyed the slope of his nose and the content smile on his face. It really was fine that Keith nearly ditched the get together because he jumped off a cliff into a steaming hot pit of conclusions. Everything should be okay, Keith has a chance to try and woo Lance himself because he’s thankfully single. Oh god, what if he was straight? But, Keith reasoned with himself, as he served himself a helping of potato salad, Lance is a nice guy, if he was straight or even uninterested he would let down nicely. It would be easy to move on and hey, maybe still stay as friends. Because Keith really liked being his friend. Well, he thinks they’re friends. . .

Keith’s train of thought was cut off when Hunk came up behind Lance and wrapped his arms around his waist, then gave Lance a firm peck on the top of his head.

“How’s that salad, babe?” Hunk asked.

“My souls been cleansed because of this heavenly dish.” Lance said through a mouthful of potato salad.

Keith whipped around to stare at Pidge, eyes wide and the color drained from his face.

Pidge simply shrugged and took a large bite of pizza.

[awashsquid]

Next in The Death of the Moon, all of which is here. This chapter is around 2000 words and it’s overall a long saga, but I’d say we’re about 1-2 chapters from the close. Like what I did here? Leave a nice comment and make me smile! If you really like it, I have a Ko-Fi here as well.

“How’s she holding up?” Makoto stirred the dip mixture in her bowl absently, more focused on Minako’s facial expression than evenly distributing the ingredients.  The movie nights at her apartment had become almost a weekly tradition now, a means to keep all of them together even without meeting over Senshi duties.

“Good as can be expected,” Minako replied flatly, reaching for a cookie even though she knew Makoto would swat her hand away.  She did so, and the blonde responded by sticking her tongue out playfully.  “I mean, she’s honestly doing great with the leg thing, she’s too distracted by her soul having been ripped from her body,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the conclusion of the sentence.

Makoto silently wondered if she should feel guilty that Haruka wasn’t angsting over her leg any more given the circumstances as Minako prattled on.  “I mean, Miss Succubus isn’t doing super well, according to Rei. Guess it’s good to know there’s a heart in there somewhere.”  She rolled her eyes as her hand dipped into her pocket, pulling out her vibrating cellphone.  “Rei says she’ll be here in five.  Ami’s just got a nasty car accident in the ER, so they need all the interns on deck and she’s gonna be late.”

The dip was spooned into its serving tray, already crowded with various vegetables and crackers. “Cool.  Take this into the living room, will you?”  She thrust the tray into Minako’s hands, causing her to fumble putting away her phone before accepting the offering.  “And don’t eat it all!” Makoto called after her, turning around to take the cheesecake bites out of the fridge.

“Holy SHIT, Mako, where did you get this TV?  It’s massive!” Minako cried, ogling the new television that easily took up half of Makoto’s wall space.

Makoto crossed her small apartment quickly and set the food on her coffee table, already crowded with other treats.  “That would be a gift from the Succubus, as you called her.”  She shrugged at Minako’s stunned expression.  “It came this morning with a little card.  She said she felt bad she never comes so she wanted to send a ‘small token of appreciation,’” she added with air quotes. Michiru’s idea of “small” was obviously much different than their own.

The Outers had been invited to the movie nights, but none had ever showed up.  Haruka had been too busy drowning in her own self-loathing, Setsuna just sent polite refusals, and Michiru had never even replied.  Minako had spitefully commented that she must have felt herself too good to even lower herself to an RSVP, but Michiru’s rather lavish gift told a different story to Makoto.  She was still debating what she was going to make and send as a thank-you of her own—she had decided on a few Petit Fours but was still tossing up different flavor combinations in her mind.

“Well.  That was nice of her.”  Minako spat out the words with difficulty, sounding about as convincing as a child who had received socks instead of games for their birthday. “She’s still a soulless squid monster though,” she muttered petulantly, crossing her arms as she flopped down on the couch.

Makoto was spared from responding when the door opened, Rei marching in and slamming it behind her. “Sorry, the line at the video store was insane,” she huffed, tossing a bag with several rented DVDs onto the floor.

Minako rolled her eyes and popped a pretzel into her mouth.  “Rei, I told you, we should just get Netflix.”

“I don’t watch TV at home, Mina, and using the service once a week, its cheaper to rent a movie overnight.”

Makoto chimed in, “Actually, Rei, my new TV came with a year free of Netflix and Hulu, so…”  She trailed off and looked at the sad plastic bag wilted on her floor, a cracked corner of a case poking out.  “I didn’t set it up yet though, so this is fine for tonight!” she finished, cracking a smile to try and diffuse the tension.

Thankfully, Rei was too distracted by the mention of a new TV to go on a diatribe about corporate greed and small businesses as she spun around to look at the appliance.  “Damn, I didn’t think she was going to do this,” she said quietly, eyes roving over the huge curved screen, currently displaying the options menu.

“Wait, you knew she was going to send me this?” Makoto asked.  “Why didn’t you warn me?  The guys showed up when I was covered in flour, I felt so bad I wasn’t prepared—”

Rei shook her head as she sat next to her on the couch.  “Michiru told me she wanted to send you some kind of thank-you gift, and she told me she wasn’t sure what, so I said maybe some DVDs or a little sound bar but this…” she trailed off, hand gesturing outward lazily. “This is just Michiru not knowing what a ‘small’ present is, I guess.”

“She didn’t have to give me anything.”  She plopped onto her ottoman and nibbled the corner off of one of her cheesecake bites. She had really just invited Michiru on principle, knowing that she would never come, but it didn’t seem right to just invite Haruka and not her too.

“Of course she did,” Mina snorted.  “Her Highness is too good to slum with us peasants, so she sends us cake from the palace instead.”  She bitterly snapped a cracker in two before popping half of it into her mouth.

“Actually,” Rei snapped back, “she doesn’t come because she knows you hate her, and she thinks everyone else doesn’t like her and we just put up with her because of Haruka, and she doesn’t want to spoil our fun. But you wouldn’t know that, because you’re too intent on looking at her as some kind of monster.”  Rei’s face was flushed, and she knew immediately that she had just betrayed Michiru’s confidence, but she was too mad to care. “You know, she’s my friend, and you bitch about her all the time, and I want you to know that she never talks about you, she actually never talks about any of you, in a bad way.  I’m sick of you bashing her.  Michiru’s not perfect, but she’s a person, and though it may shock you, she does have feelings, Mina.”

Minako had slowly been grinding what remained of her cracker to dust in her fist as Rei spoke. “Haruka has feelings too, Rei. You know, Haruka?  My best friend?  That woman who Michiru fucking cheated on?  Sorry that I care a little bit more about her because she’s not some manipulative, back-stabbing —”

“That’s enough!” Makoto roared, standing up to tower over the sitting women, the veins in her neck beginning to throb.  “Minako, Michiru just did something really nice that she didn’t have to do for me, so stop badmouthing her for a few fucking hours while you’re here.  Rei, just…calm down,” she finished lamely.  The other two shut their mouths and slunk back into their seats looking thoroughly chastised, although Rei was a little smug under her abashed expression.

“God, all you two do is fight,” Makoto muttered, flopping back down and putting her head in her hands. “Usagi would be so upset if she saw us like this.”  She had meant for it to stay in her head, but she had whispered the thought aloud accidentally.

The silence lingered heavy in the air, their shared grief thickening the room with its cloying heaviness. “I miss her,” Rei whispered, and they looked up to see her crying, mascara tears falling steadily down her face. It was the first time they had seen her really cry since the funeral, and Makoto gently put her hand on Rei’s lap.

“Me too,” she added, allowing her own tears to fall, adding unneeded salt to the half-finished dessert on her lap.

Minako stared stubbornly at the television, her eyesight going blurry from the tears she was trying to not let fall.  Rei saw this and shifted towards her, trying to be tender, thinking of what Usagi would do. “Mina, it’s okay.  It’s okay if you want to cry.  We can blackmail each other into keeping it a secret that we feel things,” she joked badly, touching her hand gently to Minako’s shoulder.  Minako jerked out of the touch, and Rei, always so resistant to fire, felt for the first time what it was like to be burned.

“You guys cry.  I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Minako.  Fuck, none of us are fine,” Makoto added derisively.  “But we’re trying. Maybe it would be easier if we tried together instead of apart.  It’s what she would have wanted.”

“We don’t get to know what she would have wanted because she’s dead, Mako, she’s dead and she’s never coming back, and it’s —” her sentence ended with a shuddering intake of breath as her head dropped down to her chest, blonde hair falling in a thick curtain to hide her face.

“It’s not your fault.” All three whipped their heads to see Ami, who none had even noticed enter, standing with tears in her eyes.  “She’s gone, but it’s not your fault, Minako.”

Minako let out a barking laugh, and the attention turned back to her, tears now streaming freely down her face, lines of black marring her perfect complexion.  “That’s funny.  Maybe you should have gone into stand-up instead of medicine.”  No one responded.  “I told her to do whatever was necessary.  I gave her a command because that’s what General Venus was always meant for, wasn’t it?”  She glared at the ceiling, howling, “I did what you wanted, Serenity, you bitch!  I hope you’re fucking happy!  Maybe next time you should pick a better leader, or maybe wait until we’re not literally children to fucking decide that we get to give up our lives to be your- your puppets!”

Ami approached her and knelt.  “Minako, I ran the numbers, you know that.  If she hadn’t done what she did, the world would have ended.  She would have never been able to live with herself.” She sighed as her eyes looked away, seeing a battle that wasn’t there.  “She was going to do it whether you told her to or not.”

Minako slumped down, the tears falling fast and thick, dotting her leggings with dark spots.  “I know.  It doesn’t change that I was the one that gave her the order, though.”  She looked at her friends uneasily.  “If- if you don’t want me around for a while —” There was an uncharacteristic smallness, a touch of vulnerability in her voice, her self-sure veneer slipping for just a moment, the visor lowered.

Makoto said nothing, but instead crossed and enveloped Minako in a tight hug, which caused her to start sobbing in earnest again.  “You- are- the worst hugger, Mako,” she hiccupped, burying her face into the warm shoulder in front of her.  “Your hugs- make- me- cry.”

“I know, I know,” she replied soothingly, stroking Minako’s hair gently, holding her the way she remembered being held by her mother as a child, trying to convey love through just her embrace as her mother had done.  She felt Ami scoot closer and envelop Minako on the left, and after a moment of hesitation, Rei rounded out the embrace on the right, her still slightly warmer than average body temperature adding extra warmth.  They allowed themselves to cry and to mourn separately, each thinking of what they missed about Usagi the most, each thinking of what they wish they had said to her, and they held each other tighter for all of it, the silent acknowledgement that they would never have to deal with it alone.

Outside the full moon rose, its light shining gently through the window and touching the four women with its shine.