#i feel like this au is now completely attached to any and all fruit flavors i get

[scoutdoesstuff]

day eight of the teafest prompts! today's flavor of tea was called orange and we're back with the mechanic au.

previous prompts can be found here

Castiel whiffs in his response to Dean's flirting. A bit of brooding ensues. Along with the beginings of an apology.

“He showed up to your house to quote unquote fix your car on his day off,” Balthazar yells, slamming his martini down on the polished wood of their little bar table, “took his shirt off halfway through, all whilst wearing sinfully tight pants, and you’re telling me you weren’t sure if he was flirting?”

“Balt, it was very hot and —“ Castiel tries to reason with his friend.

“This is the man you’ve already been on a steamy date with, correct?” Balthazar continues at a volume that is much too loud for a public conversation.

“Yes,” Castiel says, something like shame beginning to curl up his spine. “And he did actually fix my car!” Castiel feels obligated to protect Dean’s dignity and reputation as a damn good mechanic, even if he’s clearly blown any romantic chances he has with the man.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cassie,” Balthazar says, burying his face into his arms. The martini wobbles dangerously. Castiel moves it away from his friend but before he can set it back down on the table, he finds himself abruptly morose and downs the whole drink in one go.

“You just got sad and drank my martini, didn’t you?” Balthazar says, voice muffled by his arms.

Castiel sets the empty glass down next to Balthazar’s head in answer.

Balthazar sighs in further disappointment.

//

It eats at Castiel after that. He’s used to missing social cues at this point in his life. He was born as awkward as a foal learning to walk and after his time at The Camp, what few social charms he’d possessed had been lost completely to crippling anxiety. It makes him hard to talk to on the best of days and deeply frustrating to talk to on his worst.

Dean had caught him on one of his worser days and Castiel had royally fucked up what should’ve been a simple social call and response. What was worse is that Castiel thinks that he’d genuinely hurt Dean. That’s what chafes at him the most, honestly. He could live with leaving yet another potential acquaintance with an odd, slightly vexing story about the weird guy that they’d met that one time. He doesn’t think he can live with Dean thinking that he’d somehow done something wrong, though.

He also can’t stop thinking about how good Dean had looked, either, spread over the open hood of Castiel’s Audi again. He’d shown up in a loose fitting band shirt that he’d modified into a tank top and some of the tightest pants Castiel had ever seen on another man. Castiel had had to sit down when Dean had stripped off his shirt, arms overhead revealing miles of gorgeous tanned skin and a cute tummy that Castiel wanted to bury his face in on his way towards Dean’s cock. Castiel had actually had to palm himself to hide his hard on when Dean had bent back over the Audi, showing off his gorgeous, muscled back, peachy ass, and what Castiel could’ve sworn was a strip of lacy orange panties.

Fuck, Castiel was such an idiot. Of course Dean had been flirting. He owed the other man such a massive apology and probably an apology date on top of it. Provided that Dean was willing to speak to Castiel ever again after Castiel could barely meet Dean’s eyes once Dean had finished fixing up Castiel’s car. He’d beat a hasty retreat to the office not long after. He hadn’t been lying about the “emergency” meeting set up by Luke ten minutes before it was set to start, but he could’ve been late to that meeting, left his brother to stew for a bit while he at least thanked Dean with a kiss.

Castiel stares at his sad TV dinner that had gone cold while he brooded and sighs. He’d fix it tomorrow, he swears. Or if he couldn’t fix it, he’d at least apologize.

//

It takes him five tries to write the stupid text message. He remembers being good at flirting with boys, before his parents sent him away that first time. He can’t fathom that, now.

Dean leaves him on read for a couple of hours. Castiel stress cleans his kitchen, his master bathroom and half bath, and his living room before Dean sends a cool “ok. sometime tomorrow?”.

It’s better than nothing, at least.

//

Castiel had meant to be punctual — mother had always said it was a sign of politeness — but he sees the sign for a family run diner that Dean had rhapsodized about on their date and ducks in. He winds up ten minutes late, out of breath with nerves, at Dean’s apartment complex. It’s summer so the sun hasn’t gone down, but dusk is starting to set in, giving everything a little bit of extra color.

Dean’s apartment building is in the rougher side of town, with old wooden stairs leading up to each unit. Castiel’s Audi is loud and obnoxiously out of place amongst the modestly priced sedans and four door beaters dotting the parking lot.

Dean’s waiting for Castiel on his front steps, resting his elbows on the stair behind him, lazily smoking a cigarette as he watches Castiel pull up and park. Castiel swallows hard and picks up the package that made him late to this meeting. He juggles it awkwardly as he gets out of his car and locks the doors behind him.

Dean makes no move to get up, just keeps watching Castiel over his cigarette. He blows out a plume of smoke over his head as Castiel approaches.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean says, when Castiel is close enough to touch. It doesn’t feel warm, but he hasn’t abandoned the nickname he’d given Castiel on their date yet. Castiel’s hope clings to that like a lifeline.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says back and offers up one of Ellen Harvelle’s best pies to the other man— pecan, just like Dean had said was his favorite.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - We’re Coming Back Home

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, the last one I plan to do, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 3rd.

~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, miraculously, through all of Ford’s traveling, through countless dimensions, his Quantum Destabilizer remained on his back and fully intact.

Okay, well, mostly intact. Partially intact. 

When he was finally ready to attack Bill and put an end to his reign of terror, his plans had been put on hold when a crack in space-time opened. He didn’t dare hope that it was a way home, but maybe if he aimed correctly, the shot would not only kill Bill, but fly him home. But no, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young girl fly out of the hole, and with reflexes he developed over thirty years of staying alive in the worst circumstances, he hooked his Quantum Destabilizer onto his back, caught the girl, and swam through the gravity-less air for safety, hiding behind an asteroid, putting a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissing for her silence, swearing she would be okay, and they barely made it out as Bill’s words echoed through the Nightmare Realm.

“Sixer’s caught a Shooting Star, boys!”

Ford had no idea what that was supposed to mean at the time, but now a month later, he thinks he finally understood. His niece, Shermie’s granddaughter, Mabel, loved stars, and was very much like one herself. Always shining. Always so bright and full of hope. Many times in history, and even today in other dimensions, runaway slaves used the stars as maps to guide them to a better place. Ford often wondered if Mabel was his star, maybe not guiding him physically to a safe haven, but guiding him to a happier mindset. Guiding him to a life that isn’t completely isolated. Guiding him to a life that included love.

The last few weeks have been challenging, sure, but not that much more challenging than traveling alone; Mabel was a fast learner, and while she refused to use a knife or gun (“Cuz those hurt, Grunkle Ford!”), she was perfectly comfortable with pop-rocks and making foes lose their footing and fall down so they couldn’t attack. And she was very good at hunting for food and water and other reliable resources. 

In fact, Ford would easily say the last few weeks have been the happiest of his life. Maybe only tying with when Fiddleford joined him in Gravity Falls, before work on the portal became dangerous, but after he realized that maybe the woods had been too quiet the last six years.

After just a day and a half, Ford was fully-aware of his attachment to his niece and how much it would ruin him if he lost her. Mabel was everything a good person strives to be: kind, sweet, a pleasure to be around, but not a pushover, either; Mabel Pines knew how to stand her ground.

And so the last month was littered with so many happy memories. Ford was a little hurt when she “borrowed” two broken fishing poles and fixed them up so they could fish, but he very quickly enjoyed sitting on a log by a river and fishing with Mabel. Ford found it brought her much comfort to brush her hair, and he also discovered he enjoyed a calm brush himself. Ford found he didn’t mind the extra weight of his niece on his shoulders; quite the contrary, he found it comforting, and he was always swallowed with peace when she was so relaxed with him that she fell asleep, using his fluffy gray hair as a pillow.

No longer was Ford met with suspicious looks when he walked down the street of a market alone, face hidden. Quite the opposite. He was always met with smiles and warm greetings, and sometimes a little extra food was thrown into a purchase for free. Be it because people saw him as a parent with an adorable child, or because of Mabel’s charm. Or both.

The dimensions they came across were random and different, just like it was when Ford traveled alone. Some dimensions were like an alien sci-fi movie, completely different with no humans. Some dimensions were scaringly like home, with a small difference here and there. Ironically, the alien-like dimensions were typically safer, because they were used to travelers and weird-looking creatures. 

But Ford guessed it would be okay if he and Mabel stepped into a normal grocery store to buy some food.

They had come across a “normal” dimension, and while Ford’s first thought was to retreat for the woods, he heard Mabel’s stomach growl, and he decided her health was more important. So they stepped in and kept to themselves.

Ford and Mabel were picking up crackers when the little girl grinned at rows of cereals behind them. “Grunkle Ford, can I please pick a cereal?” She asked politely.

The old scientist thought about it for a moment. Cereal would definitely cover a few meals and be light and easy to carry, and it wouldn’t get hold too quickly, and he had wanted to get her at least one nice thing while in the store, so he nodded and said, “Yes, dear, you may pick one box. Any flavor you want.”

“Thank you!” And Mabel took the time to hug him before skipping over to the cereals to look.

Ford chuckled and picked some crackers, then decided to browse the fruit snacks, debating if it would be wise. Probably not, because if they get stuck in another desert climate the gummies could melt and make a mess, but they could make a good snack for Mabel. He held his chin, debating the idea, while a couple was also looking over the cereals.

“Which do you think Dad would want?” The yellow-haired woman asked.

“Honey, who cares what Rick wants? Just get a cereal you’ll like.” The husband said with an eye roll.

Ford froze at that name. No no, that was most definitely a different Rick. It was a common enough name, and there were billions of dimensions. There was no way Ford and Mabel somehow managed to stumble into C-137. He ultimately decided against gummies and he then looked at the trail mixes and granola bars. Both were always a good option.

“I know, but I want him to feel welcome, you know?” The wife said as she picked a box. “He’s been travelling in space alone for years…”

Oh no. No, no, no. Ford quickly chose some packets of trail mix and several granola bars and hurried back to his niece. He was not going to do this today. Nope.

Mabel grinned at him, a box of cereal in hand, and she held it out to him. “Look, Grunkle Ford, do you like this flavor? I can pick a different one if you want.”

“Oh, thank you, my dear, but I like the one you picked.” Ford did a decent job masking his uneasiness and he took her hand and smiled. “Why don’t we pick up some fruit for today, and then we’ll go fishing for dinner?”

“Yay! Sounds great!”

Ford didn’t miss the yellow-haired woman smiling at them as they left the aisle. If that was who he thought it was… She really didn’t look anything like him. She might have just favored her mother. Who else would have spent years traveling space? Bastard.

Ford may have hated him for many reasons, but choosing to abandon his girls was at the top of the list.

At the checkout line, Ford nervously watched the total of their purchase go up with each beep. He recounted their cash and made a small list of items in his mind for them to go down if they couldn’t afford everything. A few granola bars can go. And, maybe they could find band-aids elsewhere and “borrow” them.

The worker rang up the last item and Ford smiled when he saw the total was 29.89. He had thirty. But then the worker pressed the total button and taxes were added. Shit, right. That made their total 35.45. Ford winced. Mabel looked up at him worriedly, but she smiled and stood on her tippy-toes to see the worker better.

“Hi, I’m Mabel! Can you please put the cereal back? We don’t really need it.”

Ford looked down at her, surprised and also a little disheartened. He had really wanted to get her at least one nice thing, but truth be told the cereal was the most expensive item, so it made sense to get rid of it first. Still, it sucked.

“Total’s now 32.14.”

Ford bit his lip. “Very well, may we please put the band-aids back, too?”

The worker nodded, seeming tired and annoyed, but they didn’t say a word. Blissfully, the total went down to 29.99.

With hands full of bags, Mabel and Ford paused at the beginning of the parking lot to move their groceries into their backpacks. While they worked, the old scientist said, “I’m sorry I could afford your cereal, Mabel.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” The girl said instantly. “I’ve got something even sweeter.” And she grinned at her grunkle and gave him a warm smile.

Ford smiled back at her tiredly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do.” Mabel insisted and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling her face into his shoulder and determined to sink as much comfort as she could into his skin. “I love you Grunkle Ford. Please don’t beat yourself up, m’k?”

Ford hugged her back and petted her short brown hair. It was certainly easier to feel better with a ball of sunshine in his arms.

They both heard rustling behind them as a buggy rolled from the door to the parking lot. They both looked behind Mabel and saw a bag with the cereal and the band-aids in it. They looked around and saw no one, except for the yellow-haired woman and her husband going to their car.

Mabel grinned and hollered to them, “Thank you!”

They didn’t respond, but the woman did smile and wave before putting groceries into her car. As appreciated as Ford was for her kindness, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. No offense to her. She seemed like a very lovely lady.

But then it hit Ford like a pile of rocks. What was it he had said before he had pulled out his gun and left Ford to travel alone? “And hey, if you ever wanna travel without customs or waiting for wormholes to open, don’t come looking for me.” And then he winked and fell backwards into a pool of green, leaving Ford to curse his name.

If this was like before, when Ford was alone, he wouldn’t dare. But if he could help get Mabel home…

Ford took Mabel’s hand and muttered, “Come with me.” And she followed without question.

Beth felt good helping the old man and the little girl, and she didn’t expect anything more. Really, it was only five dollars worth of stuff. But she was happy when they started to walk towards her, so she trusted Jerry to finish loading up the car and she smiled at them.

“Excuse me, miss, I just want to thank you for what you did.” The old man said.

“Oh, you’re welcome, it was no trouble at all.”

“I… I hope I’m not being too invasive, but… but I believe you know someone I know.”

Beth smiled. Small world! “Really? That’s great! Oh, are you a relative of Dave’s? Or, you know, I do know a lot of people indirectly from the horse-track.”

“Er, no.” The old man gave her a more serious look, and then asked quietly, “Do you know Rick Sanchez?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Beth was so excited to give Stanford Pines and his niece, Mabel, a ride, and to invite them to dinner, not only because she thought seeing an old friend might make her dad smile, but maybe she’ll learn more about what he’s been up to all these years. The man was very polite and the girl was as sweet as can be, both of whom looked rough and in need of a cozy bed and maybe a soothing bath. Jerry was a little unsure, not wanting “more Ricks” into his house, but after a huf from the girl and a cheerful greeting, Jerry couldn’t help but tell the girl she was more than welcome, so now he was roped in.

Mabel noticed that her uncle looked distracted. He was looking out his window, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was thinking. So she decided to try to help him with his thoughts. “Grunkle Ford, who’s Rick Sanchez?” She asked quietly.

Ford looked at her, sighed quietly, and muttered, “He’s an intergalactic scientist. He’s ridiculously intelligent and clever, and… a bit…” Ford pursed his lips. All the words that came to mind he didn’t want Mabel hearing, so he settled on. “... mad.”

“Oh. Is he like a real mad-scientist?” Mabel asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes, but with less laughter, more slurs and sluggish demeanor, and even less consideration of other living things.”

Mabel noticed his cold tone and grew concerned. “You don’t like him, do you?”

Ford bit his lip. No, he didn’t. But there was a more important reason why he didn’t want to see Rick today. 

Mabel leaned in closer and whispered, “Is he mean?”

Trust Mabel to sum it up perfectly for her uncle. “Yes.” Ford said just as quietly. “And I don’t want him meeting you.”

“Why?”

Ford hesitated. But being blunt and honest seemed to be working, and it was best for Mabel to prepare herself for the lion’s den they were walking into. “I don’t want him to hurt your feelings.” a bit elementary, but it was the best way to explain it to a child without scaring her too much.

Mabel, however, grinned. “Grunkle Ford, no one can resist the Power of Mabel.”

Ford smiled and ruffled her hair softly. “We’ll see…”

“So, if you don’t like Mr. Sanchez, then why are we going to go see him?”

“He’s an expert on interdimensional-travel.” Ford informed her. “He might know how to get us home.”

Mabel’s eyes widened and she “oh”ed as she realized what was going on. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The garage door was open to let in good lighting and fresh air. But that wasn’t an invitation to come in whenever people feel like it; Rick will have to work on a security system to keep nosy neighbors away. He was opening a box and getting organized when he heard his daughter’s car roll into the driveway. He didn’t bother to look up, instead waited for the sounds of car doors opening to say something.

“Hey sweetie, welcome back.”

“Dad,” Beth said, sounding giddy. Rick hated giddy. But he had only been here for a week and he didn’t feel like making his daughter hate him just yet, so he settled for rolling his eyes and continuing what he was doing. “I have a surprise for you!”

“Wow! You have a nice house! Cool garage, too!” A young voice said.

Rick was halted. He turned in his chair and raised an eyebrow to find a young girl with short brown hair and braces holding hands with an old nerd with fluffy charcoal hair, glasses, and six fingers.

“Oh my God!” Rick laughed. “Holy-...” A dark look from the old traveler made Rick stop; he can piss him off later. First he needs to figure out why the hell he is here and what the hell he wants. “Jeez, you look terrible, Fordsie.” The mad scientist snorted as he leaned against his desk with his hands in his pockets.

Ford rolled his eyes and said, “And you still look like a soft breeze will blow you away, Sanchez.”

Mabel bit her lip and quietly, “Oooooh”ed, like she was listening to a rap battle.

“So,” Beth stretched, clearly hoping for more information or a more satisfying reunion, but she wasn’t getting it naturally, so she decided to push a little. “How do you two know each other?”

“The Multiverse is a pretty big place, sweetie.” Rick answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll have this nerd gone before you finish unloading the car. Don’t want to risk another mass genocide.” He sneered.

Ford’s face turned red and he yelled, “I didn’t know it was a planet! It looked too similar to a sandwich for it to be a planet!”

Rick laughed and looked at the little girl. She looked maybe a little younger than Morty. “Who’s that you got with you?”

Ford closed his eyes, debating if he should tell Rick it wasn’t any of his business, or get the introduction over with. But before he could make a decision, Mabel beat him to the punch.

She let go of Rick’s hand, hopped to him, and looked up at his bean-pole stature and smiled and waved. “Hi! I’m Mabel! You’re a scientist, too? Cool! I like your hair! How old are you? Have you ever met a dinosaur? What’s your favorite food?” 

Rick blinked like a startled lizard at the girl, glanced up at Ford, and then looked back down at Mabel. Rick smiled and sat in his chair to be closer to her level, and held out a hand to shake, which she happily accepted and shook a little rough. “Hey there, I’m Rick. Yes, I’m a scientist. Thank you, I like your hair, too. Yes, I’ve met a dinosaur, several in different dimensions. And, pancakes.”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled. “I love pancakes, too! Maybe we can make some together!”

“Maybe, but I’ve got the feeling that’s not why you’re here.” Rick suggested kindly. And no, Ford wasn’t at all suspicious that he was being kind to Mabel.

“Oh! Yeah! Grunkle Ford thinks you can help us get home.”

“Huh. You’re great-uncle, huh? Sure, okay, let’s get started.” Rick rolled over to a cabinet and took out an odd machine. It came with a tiny needle and was attached to the machine by a small black wire, and the boxed machine had a screen of some sort on the side. “Mind if I prick your finger?”

“Sure!” Mabel held out her finger to him and Rick carefully held her wrist and pricked her finger, so small she hardly noticed it. “What for?”

“I need a blood sample to find your home dimension. Gotta send you to the right dimension.” Rick explained. “Fordsie, lemme get yours, too. How’d you two find each other, anyways?”

“I was in the Nightmare Realm when some idiot opened a portal and this little starshine fell into my arms.” Ford explained, stepping forward and giving Rick his finger.

“Okay, got it.” Rick said. “Well, there’s a possibility that you two come from different dimensions. Nothing too different about your homes, but there’s millions of dimensions. The probability that you two came from the same timeline and reality… there we go. It’s a match. That makes things easier.”

The small heart attack Ford was having went away. The idea of his starshine not being his was a nightmare. His life was complicated enough; he didn’t need his girl to not actually be his.

“Dimension 41’\. Huh, okay, gimme two seconds…” Rick pulled out his trusty portal gun and plugged it into the machine. A long list of dimensions popped up, and Ford prayed 41’\ would be on the list. “You two are lucky. I can go as far as 42’\, but the other 40s are out of range. Huh, i’ll have to work on that.”

“So,” Mabel grinned. “You can get us home?”

Rick smiled smugly and shrugged as he stood. “Yeah, sure.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cheered and hurled herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it! I’m gonna see Dipper again! I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ford smiled softly. He couldn’t believe it. It was all happening so fast and effortlessly. He was going to get Mabel home. They were both going home. Suddenly the idea of seeing Stanley again, meeting his grandnephew and all of Mabel’s friends and her pet pig sounded… a lot. He didn’t realize it, but he was becoming anxious and spacing out. But Mabel noticed, and she kissed his stubbly cheek and brought him back to reality.

Rick shot at the wall with his gun and an oozing green portal appeared. “There we go, 41’\. Wait, sh-oot, gimme a location.”

“618 Gopher Road.” Ford stated as he let go of Mabel. “Gravity Falls, Oregon. USA.”

“Got it.” Rick made the last portal disappear and shot a new one. “There. Now get-... Go on home.”

Mabel stepped up to Rick and said sincerely, “Mr. Sanchez, thank you for helping us.” And she hugged him around his tall skinny legs.

Rick pursed his lips awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to such positive energy and kindness. The old scientists looked at each other, Ford giving Rick a warning look, but something hidden in his face or eyes told the drunk that the nomad was actually grateful for his illegal device.

“Uh…” Rick settled on patting Mabel’s head and said, “Y-Y-You’re welcome.”

Mabel let go of Rick and held out a hand to Ford. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Ford took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s do this.”

And without another word, the Pines walked through the green portal.

[fixxofvixx]

Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 27

Hello!! I finished a chapter! Woohoo!!! Haha it feels like it's been forever!! I'm posting this just before I go into work so I hope you all enjoy it and I will check for replies after I finish!

Please let me know what you think!!!💖💖

😈😈😈😈😈😈

Try as you might, getting up the next morning was difficult.  When you opened your eyes, Leo was gone.  Your hand went to the empty spot where he should have been and instead found a feather, black with a red tip.  Smiling, you picked up the feather and brought it closer.  You rose up, painfully, and took a look at yourself.  You had been fully clothed and suspected that Leo had worked his magic before leaving.  

It took you almost 20 minutes to get out of bed, walk to the bathroom, and finish getting ready.  You managed to put your hair into a loose bun and, as a finishing touch, attached Leo's feather to the hair tie.  

You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed but you wanted food.  You hoped Leo had placed something in the kitchen for you.  Otherwise, you'd be at the mercy of the fruit basket on the table.  

Once you reached the living room, you spotted Sabina pacing right inside the large glass windows.  

"Hello, Sabina."

*Oh good, you're awake.*  The lynx turned to you and then stopped.  She chuffed and moved closer to you.

*Staking your claim?*

"What do you mean?"

*The feather….*

"Oh!  Um….well, it was a gift so what better way than to accessorize?"  You reached for the pendant at your neck and held it up for Sabina to see.

*You people are so strange.*

You shrugged your shoulders and went towards the kitchen.  

"Have you seen Leo?"

*He went outside earlier and let me in.  He said something about the wolves.*

You thought for a minute and then you remembered what you'd said about the wolves hating you now.  Did he go to talk to them?  You felt a little sadness because you wanted to see them for yourself and make sure that they still liked you.

You thankfully found enough food to make some toast with jam.  You had only mentioned to Leo that you liked jam and suddenly every flavor was displayed on the counter.  

You had just swallowed the last bit of toast in your mouth when Leo appeared in front of you, causing you to scream.

"Leo!"  The look on his face told you that he was amused at your obvious surprise.

"Sorry."

"No, you're not but I supposed I should be used to you doing that."

"I like to keep you on your toes….almost as much as I like keeping you on your back."  He smiled sinfully and leaned forward for a kiss.  His words caused a pink blush to spread over your cheeks.  When he pulled away, you couldn't do anything but smile.  

"Devil."

"Almost...just a demon."  He winked and you rolled your eyes. 

*I'm going outside to throw up if you need me.*

Leo also noticed Sabina leaving and snapped his fingers as she went out the door.  A light thud hit the porch and you looked at Leo, concerned.  He shook his head and smiled.

"Sabina must have found her snack." 

"You're a total pushover when it comes to animals, aren't you?"

"It was a reciprocal agreement.  She watches over you and I give her snacks."

"If you say so."

"Did you sleep well?"  Leo usually changed the subject when you mentioned his soft-heartedness.  

You nodded before leaning your body against his and humming in satisfaction.  You had always wanted a simple life with someone to share it with.  You were in bliss.

"Sore?"

"Mmm...exquisitely so."  He laughed at your content words.  His hand found the small of your back and kept it there until the sore muscles eased away.  

His actions only caused you to melt into him further. 

"Better?"  You nodded and his hand started roaming.  "Anywhere else?"

"No, everything is fine."  You wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed.  His hand came up to wrap around the back of your neck and then stopped.  

"I see you got my present."  His fingers touched the feather hanging from your hair tie.

"Yes, I did.  Thank you.  Are you sure it's okay to take out another feather?"  You leaned back and asked.  He said it didn't hurt to pull one out but was it really okay?

"They grow back, silly girl." He tugged on your earlobe and you shook your head to break free.

"But--"

Your protest was cut off with his lips covering yours.  You immediately lost all of your anxiety on the subject and pulled him closer.  He moved forward and soon your back hit the wall.  You held on tight with your arms around his neck.  His fingers buried themselves in your hair as you pulled him closer.  You couldn't get enough of him.  His tongue moved slowly against yours and you stood on trembling legs.  

He pulled away suddenly and you groaned in protest without thinking.  He smiled at your expression and gave you one more short kiss.

"Why did you stop?"  You pouted for a moment and then looked up at him.

"The wolves are close by and I thought you might want to see them."

"Really?"

"Yes, I talked to them this morning and they agreed that what you had was a horrible dream as they would never reject you.  Even their youngest offspring know of your existence."  He smoothed away a strand of hair from your face and then teleported you both into the forest.

You stepped away from Leo to see several wolves gathered around.  From the looks of it, Leo had brought you to the north side of the forest which was close to the village.  The wolves tended to patrol the borders during this time.   You smiled nervously and then froze when the alpha came forward.  Visions of your dream that had seemed all too real flashed in your mind.  

He moved forward until he was directly in front of you.  He suddenly bowed and you gasped.  You turned to Leo but he just smiled.

"He says that he apologizes for appearing in your dream and scaring you.  Also, he wants you to know that you never have anything to fear from the wolves."

Your heart sank knowing that the alpha was apologizing.  You went to your knees and held out your hand.  The large wolf raised his head and came closer.  He nuzzled your hand and you smiled.

"Please don't apologize.  It wasn't your fault.  You can't control what I dream about, right?  I'm honored that you came all the way here."

 

Just then, Leo laughed at something the alpha must have said and he nodded his head.

"Yes, I will."  

You looked at Leo and silently questioned him.  

"He told me to make sure and keep you.  I intend to."  He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.  

Without warning one of the older puppy came bounding towards you and sat at your feet.   He was part of the offspring that were born when you had first begun to stay in the forest.

"Well, hello."  You squatted down and scratched the back of his head.  The alpha made a sound and the pup instantly stood at attention in front of you.  Like the alpha, he bowed his head.  

The alpha raised his head to look at Leo and he nodded.  Leo came forward and put one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the young wolf before you.

*Y/N, I have been given the honor to become your guardian.  As one of the keepers of this forest, you are under the absolute protection of the Wolf Guard.  I will do my best to protect you and become a loyal companion.  In order for the pledge to be complete, I require that you give me a name.*

You stared at the wolf, completely aghast at what had just happened.  You looked at Leo and he just nodded.

"It's your choice."

"D-Do you have one too?"

"Of course, I have the alpha."  In response, the alpha bowed and then stood proudly.  

"Oh...um,"  You looked back at the young wolf in front of you and thought for a moment.

*In the case that you are unwilling, that is also acceptable.  You will still be protected by the Guard.*

You smiled at the wolf, amazed at how his voice seemed so melodic and comforting.  

"How about Danté?"

*Yes?*

"Is that a suitable name for a guardian?"

*Of course, my lady.*

You blushed at Danté's reverence.  You thought anyone would call you that.  He bowed and you felt a rush of wind surge through the forest.  Leo removed his hand from you both and stood.

"I trust you will guard her well, Danté."

*With pride.*

You gasped lightly when you realized you could hear him.  

"I can hear you without Leo?"

*Yes, my lady.  It makes it easier to call upon me when you need me.*

"Just Y/N, please.  I-I don't think I could ever get used to anyone calling me that."

*If you wish it.*

You started to reach your hand out to Danté again but Leo suddenly grabbed you around the waist and hauled you up against him.

"Leo! What--"

"Several humans just crossed the border to the forest."  Leo looked at the wolves.  "Take your pups back to safety, I'll check it out."

The wolves moved immediately and rushed into the forest.  You stayed next to Leo as he looked around for any intruders.

"What could they be doing in the--ahh!"  You screamed when Leo's arm shot out and stopped an arrow just before it pierced your skull.  Leo pushed you behind him as a few villagers stepped through the trees and approached slowly, bows drawn.

"Step aside, demon.  We will rid you of the witch that has threatened the forest and the village."

[ishgard]

Nabbing up this meme + my answers from twitter to post here!

1. what's their favorite beverage - alcoholic and/or non-alcoholic?

She's pretty simple with alcohol: give her anything fruity and/or sweet and she's set, it's a bit cliche but sex on the beach has a 'special' memory attached. Same with non-alcoholic drinks really, she loves Shirley temples, fruity teas and lemonades, and super sweet coffee drinks.

2. what's their favorite flavor? (spicy, sweet, sour, etc)

Mana will eat just about anything, she's very eager to try new foods (whether she thinks she'll like them or not) - but she does ESPECIALLY love sweet foods of any kind. She's also pretty much got that crazy anime, Usagi/Goku kind of appetite/stomach going on.

3. what's their favorite food?

She has such a deep love for food in general it's hard to nail one thing down. Some honorable mentions would be souffle pancakes, and just about any sweet apple baked good, crepes, fresh fruits, and mochi. (...I swear she does love foods other than sweets, like big juicy burgers and pizza.)

4. breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks - which do they look forward to the most?

All of the above. She LOVES a good breakfast spread though, (missing from #3: breakfast sandwiches!!!) and dessert (obvious by now, surely) places pretty high.

5. do they have a food or flavor they absolutely hate?

For a while she really disliked apple-based foods because she ate a LOT of them as a kid, but she's come back around to loving them. Otherwise, not the biggest fan of avocado (mostly a texture thing) or cottage cheese, and celery can only be in soup/stew or covered in peanut butter and raisins.

6. can they tolerate spicy food?

She doesn't have a very HIGH tolerance, but she does enjoy food that has some kick to it. But not a fan of say, spicy food SOLELY for the sake of spiciness, she's not just drenching her food in hot sauce for the thrill of it, but wants it to be a part of a wider variety of tastes.

7. what is their favorite animal?

Rabbits! She also really likes cats, foxes, and snakes, but rabbits are a big 'personal' animal for her. (Modern AU she wears some cute-ass rabbit headphones while streaming.) As far as 'image' animal goes, it's almost a little verse dependent, or as she's been told: 'You play the part of the rabbit, but you're really quite the clever little fox.'

8. what do they wear to bed?

Anything from long shirts/nightgowns, pajama shorts+tank tops, to just her underwear or sleeping in the nude if it's really hot out. She absolutely owns (at least) one of these, too, mostly for lounging around.

9. what position do they like to sleep in?

She moves a lot in her sleep, but can typically be found starfishing or curled up in a ball. Alternatively, wrapped around one of her many pillows, or (more preferably), Belial. In the latter case, there's zero regard for temperature, even if she's hot and sweaty and miserable good luck prying her off of him.

10. are they a morning person or a night owl?

While Mana is naturally more of an early bird, she also loves the night time and stargazing, and just the solitude the night often brings, so sometimes it's all down to day-to-day moods and vibes.

11. are they a heavy sleeper or do they wake up easily?

Generally a pretty heavy sleeper, unless she's having pain or otherwise can't relax (whether anxious or excited). She can sleep through a lot when she's out though, for better or worse. (Bel usually doesn't have a hard time getting her up, though.)

12. it's a rainy day, what will they do cooped up inside all day?

........fuck around with Bel. >_> Otherwise, making treats in the kitchen, reading/writing letters, or just curled up with a book and watching the storm. ..Pretty much all of these will also end with fucking around with Bel (again) though.

If there's thunder, due to mild astraphobia, she might need to take something to help her relax, or listen to some music, but the above still applies for want of distractions.

13. do they have a favorite scent or smell?

Fresh baked goods, Belial, coffee, the smell of freshly warmed milk with cinnamon and honey.

14. what do they smell like? do they wear perfume or cologne?

If she hasn't been out fighting/traveling (thus smelling like the outdoors, campfire, flowers, sweat), she's likely to smell like something sweet; cinnamon, honey, or just whatever she's recently cooked. There's almost always a sweet apple-y smell around her no matter what.

15. baths or showers?

Baths! Long, luxurious, bubble-filled baths that ease all the aches and tensions. Bath time is relax and unwind time, a sacred art complete with bath salts, bath bombs, or maybe candlelit with some snacks and wine, or a good fruit juice.

16. how good are they at cooking?

Very good! She loves to cook and bake, both for herself and especially for others, and enjoys trying out new recipes and techniques. It started out of necessity, cooking for herself and her brother, but she really grew to enjoy it seeing the way he'd light up, and also cuz she just loves to eat. Preparing holiday goodies for occasions like Valentines and White Day are favorite festivities of hers, and in modern au she works at a bakery.

17. what's their favorite time of the year and why?

While she enjoys all of the seasons for different reasons, she probably enjoys spring and summer the most. She likes being outside, enjoying the air, and especially loves going to the beach.

18. do they have a favorite holiday?

Halloween and Christmas (and their varying fantasy equivalents) for sure. Halloween is perfect for her, between her sweet tooth and love of mischief-making. Meanwhile for Christmas she typically goes all out preparing seasonal foods and gifts for friends.

19. do they prefer buying ore receiving gifts?

She wouldn't be ashamed to say both. 'Who doesn't love receiving gifts?' after all, though she can get a little flustered if it starts to edge towards spoiling her. Her gift-giving can range from 'very good', choosing the perfect gift for the individual, to... outlandishly questionable (or at least humorous) - though, no less thoughtful, necessarily.

20. how tall are they, and how do they feel about their height?

She stands around 5'2", and typically doesn't think much of her height or 'lack thereof'. Except, say, when she's trying to get something off of the highest shelves and cupboards, though that usually just means she gets to climb on the counters.

[ravenwritesstuff]

Best Laid Plans (9/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Helsa, established Kristanna, Rapunzel/Eugene, lotsa frohana Rating: T for now, M later almost for sure A/N: Please go away and don’t read the stuff I write.

They have been out to sea for twenty minutes now, Arendelle’s coast disappearing in the distance the same way Elsa’s hope for this day to go any way even close to how she hoped vanished before her eyes. 

After the safety briefing from the crew (which she barely heard) she had attempted to direct the conversation towards the contract, the parts and pieces that needed to still be negotiated and finalized, but Mister Westergaard had other ideas. 

Eat first. He had said. We have all day.

Bits of polite conversation had floated around her. Hans Westergaard entertained the group with intentional questions, occasionally including her but in some ways almost purposefully excluding her. She is simultaneously thrilled and annoyed, but she is not prepared to deal with either emotion.

So she had picked at the sumptuous fare: cold roasted squash wrapped in hickory smoked bacon, miniature parfait cups with berry compote and tangy greek yogurt topped with a sprig of mint, delicate quiche bites that even served cold are still creamy and without a hint of the rubbery texture she always achieves when cooking eggs. There is mixed fruit salad with a lime reduction glaze, brown sugar crusted salmon delicately seated on lemon buttered crostini, and single waffle quarters served with ten dozen options for toppings including jalapeno infused maple syrup. The list goes on.

Elsa is accustomed to tastings and decadence when it comes to food but nearly always when planning it for someone else, some other occasion. She had little experience being the recipient of such gourmet assortments and has never bothered to learn to cook. Still knowing they will sail she does not feel a great need to indulge as she is not sure she will handle the sea well. Her stomach is already a mess.

Her team dives in, filling actual china plates with their choice delicacies as the crew comes to take drink orders. They are each handed a menu printed on thick card stock that feels like silk. The drink options are embossed into the surface of the luxe paper. The feel of it in her hand along with the weight of her plate in the other and the heat of Hans Westergaard at her side is a sensory overload she never imagined having. 

“Coffee,” she does hesitate, “with just a splash of cream.” 

The crew member nods and takes her drink menu for her. She notices later that a smattering of those menus were artistically mounted on stainless steel stands just in case she wants to indulge in a mango-passion-fruit mimosa or a mint lemonade slush infused with vodka. While both sound tempting she needs to stay alert. Especially with him sitting so close. 

His plate is balanced on one thigh with an assortment of the fare that errs on the sweeter side. She notes the same way she would for any client. Hans Westergaard likes dessert. 

She does not consider why knowing that makes her uncomfortable.

He also orders the same coffee as she. 

Again she cannot be certain if this is intentional or just another ploy to generate a doomed connection. She will always lean towards the latter. 

He is still close, but at least she had the sense to extend his arm over the empty seat away from Elsa instead of behind her back. There is a limit even to her control and if he touched her she may explode right out of her skin.

Her team seems to be enjoying the royal food treatment. Rapunzel feeds Eugene her favorite flavor combination, something unusual certainly, and slaps his chest at the grimace. Kristoff loads up on the protein while Anna selects sweeter alternatives. Elsa takes a single quiche, vegetable options, and crostini. She does not want to seem ungrateful but she also does not want to appear over eager or succumb to sea sickness and never be able to eat salmon again. 

She nibbles the barest tip of the roasted summer squash and tries to not notice his plate while also engaging him.

“This is lovely. Thank you,” her team was watching, nodding and eating politely in agreement. 

“Of course. I want you to get a sense for what I want.” 

He now has retreated even further, inches between their bodies, an appropriate distance but still somehow feels too close. She is thankful and suspicious all at once. He leans in again, but just his head. The rest of him is conspicuously distant. His eyes had been green at the wedding but now they almost appeared gold. Were they hazel? 

“That is my team and I would love to talk with you about. We know so little about this initiative, what we are creating, and while this is lovely -”

He cuts her off by pressing two fingers on her mouth.

She had not seen it coming and the feel of it shoots heat previously unknown through her body. She can practically hear the collective gasp from the watching four and her embarrassment is palpable. His fingers are gone as quickly as they had arrived. She didn’t even have the chance to pull back. The heat and pressure of his touch lingers and it takes every bit of self control to not pressed her lips together to try to erase the electric tingling dancing there. 

If she had not been so caught off guard by the sensations racing through her body at the contact she would have had the sense to be furious.

“All in good time.” He leans back and puts the hand on his knee, the other gripping his plate. “But first a tour perhaps?” 

He is already standing and Elsa can just barely catch a breath. 

Her team all stand, albeit cautiously, watching her while she attempts to mentally reboot. Hans Westergaard offers her his hand, the same hand that had pressed her lips just moments before in a facsimile of a kiss. What would it be like to kiss him? 

That inquisitive thought is enough to launch her to her feet without assistance. She sets her plate and attache case down with more force than necessary, straightens, and steps away from him. It takes all of her mortal strength to meet his gaze. 

It is soft and warm but also fearful. That disconcerting humanness there again like he never did anything to upset her. Like he is afraid of rebuttal for his forwardness, like he knows he oversteps but couldn’t help himself just like she cannot bring herself to truly be upset by the touch. Like maybe it undid him the same way it undid her. 

That idea is just as bad, if not worse, than his action.

She needs to put it behind them. Now. No. Sooner than now. 

She lifts her chin and clears her throat. “I think it is best if we stick to business.”

She is responding to his offer for a tour and hopes that is how her team takes it, how he takes it. Clearly she does not need to invite trouble when he is more than willing to produce it on his own. His expression rearranges itself to something more polished, but no less intense. She can practically see his strategy shifting behind those color changing eyes and she steels herself against it. 

Whatever he dishes out she can take. She has overcome more than most and there is not much that can throw her, but the way he looks at her makes her realize she has met her match. 

This is not an arm’s length situation.

But to be close to him?

Close to anyone?

“I agree.” The sound of his voice snaps her back. “Which is why I absolutely insist on a tour of the vessel. It is integral to the process.”

She does not understand. Her mind reels, but she acknowledges that a tour could give her time to regroup and she needs that. 

“Then by all means, lead the way.” She takes several steps away from his projected footpath putting the ornate seat they had shared well between them. 

If there is any hesitation she cannot be certain. Instead he sweeps to the front of the ship where more chrome and glass greet them. “This way then.”

Thus begins a tour of a yacht that is more ornately equipped and furnished than most homes. Right of the main bow deck there is a leisure room filled with plush royal blue and rich chocolate furniture, stainless steel fixtures along with cream carpets and accents. There are florals, books, and staggering decor pieces that would be excessive and gaudy in any other context but here they all flow together seamlessly. The streamlined design of the furniture and the ship is accentuated with the extravagant accents. No. It this the height of refinement, elegance. 

And this is just the first room.

There is more.

There is a board room with a massive white oak table and yellow leather swivel chairs that scream their cush. There is a movie theater complete with leather reclining seat, popcorn maker, and a custom bar.  The floors are either lush carpet, marble, or white oak that gleamed so brightly she swore it was covered in glass. There is a large bathroom that is all Italian marble with fixtures that may actually be gold plated.

The second level bow mirrors the first but without the infinity pool. Instead it boasts more seating and several marble top cocktail tables that almost seem to grow out of the pristine deck. He takes them back then through the main bar, the library, and the gaming room complete with a billiard table that was once Marlon Brando’s. 

“There is more above, but those are the private quarters. We have capacity for up to twenty guests to stay comfortably. Plus the sauna.” He says. “But since those are not strictly business I doubt they will interest you.”

He is teasing, directing his attention at her specifically for the first time in this tour, but she will not take the bait. She is almost ruffled by the sudden attention, by the lack of it beforehand, but the majesty of the ship had distracted her. 

She had never conceived a vessel could be as luxurious as anything she had seen in the last twenty minutes. 

She thought she had understood wealth, had worked with her share of affluent clientele, but nothing like this. Outside the challenge of Hans Westergaard she is quickly realizing just how out of their depth they may be. The challenge of it looms like an insurmountable cliff face. Thirty eight days to meet the highest standards she has ever faced professionally all while tiptoeing through the minefield of working with a man that clearly lacked any sort of boundaries. If she even had a chance of scaling that rock wall it they needed to start immediately. 

“As curious as I am sure we all are I think it best we maximize what little time we have, Mister Westergaard, and begin discussing how we can help your initiative.” Elsa responds diplomatically. 

“Your every wish is my command.”

He smiles at her then, teeth impossibly straight and white. The look in his eye seems to say he only sees her. Like somehow the whole world melts to nothing and she is the sole light of his entire universe. The intensity of it is staggering and she sways a bit under the weight. His hand is on her elbow immediately, close and hot. 

“Whoa there. You’ll get your sea legs before long.” His breath hits her burning cheek as she extracts herself from his hold as quickly as possible. 

She steps away, careful to not make eye contact with any of the group, and gives a sharp nod. “I’m sure I will.” 

There is the slightest pause before and she can feel him staring, willing her to meet his gaze, but she doesn’t. “Right then,” he says. “Let’s return below board and we can discuss what comes next.” 

Elsa is careful to fall behind, and Anna matches suit with Rapunzel. 

“So you weren’t kidding about him coming on strong. Is this okay? Are we okay? Do we need to call this off?” Anna rattles off her questions on a quiet breath as Kristoff and Eugene engage Hans about some of the more technical aspects of the ship.

“Yeah. Or do we need to get you two a room?” Rapunzel asks, green eyes wide. “When Eugene looks at me like Hans looked at you I know we are about to have a really good time.” Typically her innocent honesty is one of her more endearing characteristics but now the implication of her sentence makes her grit her teeth.

“He’s a flirt. That’s all. We’ve all dealt with his kind before.” She tries to keep her whisper lighthearted, but she can sense how little her companions believe her. “I’ve got this under control.” 

She gives them both a pointed look at Anna lifts a brow and purses her lips. “Do you? Because you really don’t have to.” 

Elsa gapes, nearly stopping in her tracks at Anna’s presumptuous question. 

And just like that she swears the ship rolls and she nearly loses her balance only to be caught by her sister and friend. 

“Look. All I’m saying is the guy clearly likes you and isn’t afraid to show it.” Anna forces her to keep pace with the men ahead of them as they venture through one well appointed room after another. “And to be honest - you could use a little fun.” 

“Yeah,” Rapunzel nods emphatically. “You literally have nothing to lose anyway since you’re totally into him too.” 

Elsa stops in her tracks, red from head to toe. “I am not!” 

Anna rolls her eyes and grabs Elsa’s wrist to drag her along. “Okay fine. You’re not, but you could be. I know you want to keep your professional distance or whatever, but why not just tell him the truth about everything and let him make up his own mind?” 

Elsa’s mind goes blank for a moment at the possibility she had never considered.

Tell him the truth? She never told her clients the truth. Hell, she hadn’t told Eugene or Rapunzel until they had been on board long enough to get suspicious after her second unexplained, prolonged absence. And she definitely never told any of the dates she has had the truth. She just gave them enough time to get bored, to move on, and enjoyed a few less lonely nights. She never looked for long term because she wasn’t going to last long term. So why couldn’t she just approach Hans Westergaard with the same fatalist sensibility?

Why did the idea of telling him everything seem appealing? 

She knows why, but she is not ready to admit it, never will be. That niggling What If that has haunted her since that first insanely frustrating day: what if this could work? 

What if he wouldn’t be afraid, would be down for the ride as long as it lasted? What if she had the luxury of considering the possibilities? 

But she doesn’t. She made her choices two years ago and she is not going to put herself through that again. She is not going to put anyone else through that. She is just going to enjoy what time she has left and leave it at that. And she is going to do it in the familiar comfort of solitude.

“The truth isn’t relevant to the job, and that is all this is. This is a job and it is a bitch of a job. If we are going to pull this off I need to focus on what is important, and dating my client is not one of those things.” 

Anna and Rapunzel share a meaningful glance. 

“Don’t do that.” Elsa shakes her head. “This is professional. Nothing more.” 

“Okay,” Anna rolls her eyes again.

“Okay,” Rapunzel echos with a gallic shrug. 

And somehow even though they are agreeing with her Elsa feels like she lost this conversation at some point. 

She knows what they want and she doesn’t suppose she can blame them. They want to give her a reason to stay, to fight, to try. They want to give her a reason to change her mind as if it was that simple. She cannot blame them for not understanding but she cannot make this harder on herself than it already is. She has enough goodbyes to say without adding one more.

They are back to where they started now. The original spread is still in place but their requested drinks are waiting, all just the right temperature, wait in addition. 

She stays close to Anna as she takes her coffee and conspicuously jams herself between her sister and an armrest. Between Anna, Kristoff, and herself the new seating arrangement is a bit tight but she has a point to make not only to her crew and Hans Westergaard, but to herself. She is a professional adult and is perfectly capable of acting like one.

So there.

He seems to take it all in stride, not batting an eye when he takes his coffee in hand and sits comfortably spread out on the couch that Elsa had strategically vacated. As they all settle in, Mister Westergaard reaches for a few more treats for his plate and the rest follow suit. Elsa carefully balances her coffee as she selects one or two choice morsels. The sea hadn’t caught her yet but she couldn’t be too careful. Her stomach is already in knots. 

He leans back, thick auburn hair catching just the smallest corner of light and setting aflame. His high cheekbones cut with highlight and shadow of the mid-morning light. She remembers the feel of his cheek sliding along her own, the slightest brush of the silk fringe of his hair against her fingers as she had clung to him, and her eyes jerk back to her coffee. 

“This is a lovely ship, Mister Westergaard,” she breaks the strange silence. “I assume you have a purpose for showing her off?”

It is not the most graceful entrance to a negotiation, but it is all she can muster. She lifts her gaze to his and sees the calculation, the wants - feels it.

“It’s my father’s. My ship - well - it won’t do for what I have in mind but I think this ship will do nicely.” He sips his coffee as Elsa sets hers aside to reach for her attache case and open it. 

She withdraws her multi-function tablet. “And what exactly do you have in mind?” 

They have loaded his client file with offline capability for which she is glad as she cannot bring herself to ask for a wi-fi password. She notes that the rest of her team are also bringing out their matching tablets and she hopes that they will not have too many corrections and overlaps when they finally get back to the mainframe. 

He settles further into his seat with a smirk and it almost feels like he is building fortification, bracing himself for a fight he is all too sure to enjoy. 

“Your company primarily plans weddings,” he does not ask as he pops a berry into his mouth. “According to your online portfolio your business is about seventy-two percent wedding related, a few baby shower, a Quinceanera, and a few corporate events. Would you say this is a fair assessment?”

So he had done his homework. Or had someone else do it for him. Had he known all of this before he came in yesterday and asked her to recite job titles and functions that were all available on their website? Was this a test the way she had felt yesterday had been a test? 

She sits a bit straighter: “I don’t have the precise statistics in front of me but the majority of our clients have been wedding related, yes.” 

Her mind goes to the contract, unsigned and un-amended. Had he not signed it because he didn’t want them anymore? Did he want someone with more experience outside of the wedding industry? Would she have to go to battle to prove to him that weddings were just as demanding, if not more so, than a standard corporate event? Would she have to fight for this client she wasn’t even sure she wanted? 

It takes all of her self control not to fidget. 

“Why is that? Why the wedding specialty?” 

It is a good question. Most would assume it is the money, but there is much more money to be had planning outside of weddings and for less stress. She has a prepared answer, the standard line, but she nearly chokes on it. 

She holds his gaze, levels the barrel, fires, “We believe love is worth it.” 

The corners of his eyes tighten in - amusement? She cannot quite be sure yet. 

“Has that been your professional experience?” His eyebrow quirks and it appears he takes a bite of his mini-berry tart to keep from smiling. It irks her just how much he irks her. 

Anna clears her throat and Elsa realizes she has leaned forward, gripping her tablet between her hands like her life depends on it, and dear gods she might as well be foaming at the mouth for how crazy she is acting. She straightens, squares her shoulders, and meets his gaze. 

“Our professional experience has been delivering exactly what our clients ask of us to create their ideal atmosphere and execution.” 

She mentally pats herself on the back.

He nods as if to agree with her hidden sentiment. “Good. I don’t want something cold and corporate. I want something beautiful and intimate. I want what you did with Eric and Ariel’s wedding. There was - what? Two hundred people there, three?” 

“Two hundred and eighty eight,” Rapunzel offers with a  grin and Eugene squeezes her knee. 

Hans looks to Elsa with raised brows as if asking for confirmation. Elsa nods her head. “Rapunzel is never off on numbers.” 

“It never felt like that. It was a big event but it felt like having the most amazing dinner party with your closest friends. I don’t know how you did it, but you did.” He addresses the entire group and Elsa feels her insides warm involuntarily at his praise. She doesn’t want his approval to matter, but apparently it does. Then he meets her eyes and everything runs cold, hot, frigid, scalding. The look in his eye sends her heart soaring and stomach plummeting all at once, “It is a night I will never forget.”

And then they are the only two in the world again and her only saving grace is that she is sitting down. She looks down at her tablet screen but her eyes will not focus. 

“We are happy to hear you enjoyed the event,” Anna jumps in this time. “We thought it was a smash. What stood out to you as being a highlight?” 

Elsa’s head jerks up at that question. His gaze catches her with an easy smile that she can feel all the way to her toes, but it isn’t self-congratulatory. He is not commending himself. He smiles as if he is savoring something sweet, something secret.

“There were too many to single out just one, but I remember the dancing being outstanding,” he speaks as if the words are for everyone, but when his gaze settles on her she knows they aren’t. They are for her. 

“So you want dancing at your event, Mister. Westergaard?” She uses his proper name as always, instating her distance the same way she had by forcing her seat next to Anna. 

He shrugs. “To tell the truth I am not a big dancer. It all depends on the partner.” 

Elsa’s ears burn and she nearly chokes on a swallow. No one else knew about their rendezvous. There was no way they could pull the subtext from what he said, but she stills feels it creeping across their conversation like steaming lava. 

She forces a laugh to offset the tension she feels and is relieved when it comes off sounding halfway natural. “Well that does not give us much to go off of, Mister Westergaard. While we are thrilled that Ariel and Eric’s wedding left such a positive impression on you that does not particularly give us a trajectory for your event.”

“I understand.” He nods and turns his head towards the horizon off the bow before bringing his gaze right back to hers. “So why don’t I show you?”

[ previous ] [ next ]

[fourangers]

Some bad porn can turn out to be good (1/3)

Summary: “Why are you watching porn on broad daylight and…is this…is this a blond guy fucking a japanese man?” 

Who would have thought that porn watching could have such enlightening results. NaruSasu, blow job, anal sex, mutual pining without angst, Comedy, Romance, AU working in an advertisement agency. Some InoSaku.

AO3 link | ffnet link

--.--

Naruto was bored.

He already finished his very nutritional cup of ramen (it’s vegetable flavored, so it had all the necessary components for a complete meal right), played all the games he had in his smartphone and he still had more or less half an hour to kill. His friends were still busy with their work, the food court was completely empty and he wasn’t in the mood for a quick nap.

Wrinkling his nose, Naruto flipped his phone over and over, before letting it rest on the table, groaning. He was so bored. He already refreshed instagram like...thousand times and there wasn’t anything new. Same thing with facebook and twitter.

He took a long glance to the left, and then to the right. Moving to a table that was more or less placed at the corner of the room, he adjusted himself on his seat. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to relieve some tension caused by yesterday’s dream. After wasting long minutes browsing to fit exactly with his particular criteria, he widened his legs and clicked play.

⏤.⏤   

Sighing, Sasuke rubbed his eyes while he sent his e-mail. Finally, after struggling for hours he came up with a good slogan title, also wrote some short texts to be used on smaller pieces. He was famished and his take out meal was getting colder by the minute. Glancing at the clock, he went to the food court with bag in hand, glad that it was usually deserted in that hour.

He noticed in an instant the bright golden hair from afar and his steps veered in that direction, ready for a greeting. However, as he was approaching Naruto, he saw those blue eyes very focused on whatever thing was displayed on the smartphone, probably some video of some sort.

Usually in this case Sasuke would just give a quick acknowledgement, then he would eat in another table. While he was circling around to pat Naruto’s shoulder though, his eyes picked some suspicious rhythmical movement from the video. This dumbass couldn’t possibly...glaring, Sasuke grunted.

“Hey.”

“HOLY FU⏤” Naruto shrieked, jumping from his seat. He almost fell from his chair, turning around, gawking in disbelief. “What the fuck man, don’t scare me like that!”

Sasuke snorted, now that the smartphone dropped to the table, he could properly peruse the content inside it. “I can’t believe that you’re watching porn right now.”

“I-I⏤!” Naruto scrambled to pick his gadget, resisting the urge to flip the screen down. He raised his chin in defiance, grumbling. “I was bored.”

“You’re watching porn while on work.” There was no way he was mistaken what he was witnessing, with the top plunging the monstrous cock in the bottom’s round ass, and the well-rehearsed moans and grunts coming from those porn actors.

“Not at work!” Naruto defended himself, in earnest. “It’s my lunch time, and in this moment I can relax and take some time for myself.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Sasuke muttered, stomach making pleasant flips when he realized that Naruto was watching intercourse between two men . At last, all his queries concerning the blond’s sexuality were now answered. With some positive and unexpected addendums, as he perused the video closer. “Honestly, why are you watching porn on broad daylight and…is this…is this a blond guy fucking a japanese man?”

Sasuke was actually mildly impressed how Naruto managed to keep a poker face, despite blushing from head to toe. “Hey, it’s a free country you know. I can watch whatever the fuck I want.”

“...hn.” Interesting how that dumbass didn’t answer his question. Shifting, he placed one hand on the back of Naruto’s seat, whispering close to his ear. “I can’t believe that there are really people out there who would have watched porn on lunch time, this is a first for me.”

Naruto glowered back, raising his elbow to widen their gap as he stood up. “Yeah well, I have done nothing criminal, bastard. ‘Kay, lunchtime is over, gotta go.”

Sasuke huffed, cursing himself for this momentary lack of quick thinking to avoid such misunderstanding. Next time, instead of teasing Naruto, he should have offered himself to reenact that porn video.

⏤.⏤  

From the moment Naruto stepped in their ad agency, as corny as it might sound, Sasuke was smitten. Friendly, warm, an easygoing personality fitting with his wide grin and lively eyes.

His first impression towards other coworkers was vastly different though. Tall with a built physique, he had a undercut hair with earlobe expanders, leather bracelets, wearing a fitting black t-shirt that had a huge neon-orange skull drawing on it, complemented with a low cut shorts and a black belt adorned with small metal spikes. Everything about him screamed ‘Punk’, adding with fact that he had a gigantic japanese 9-tailed fox tattoo that started from his neck and covered his entire right arm, some piercings on his face and one barbell on the middle of his tongue (yes, Sasuke already pictured the tongue wrapping around his length). Naruto was quite an intimidating figure to say the least.

However, after just mere days working with him, people were quick to realize that his bright behavior really didn’t match to their preconceptions. He wasn’t one that shouted anarchy and burned books, but was rather the homey type that your mother would love to have him on Sunday lunches.

Once such knowledge sank in, a good number of suitors popped up from all spectrum of genders, much to Sasuke’s annoyance. There was a full-on investigation with some previous coworkers he used to work with, gossiping with friends and snooping around. There were many questions rather he was straight, or gay, maybe bi, all with inconclusive results.

Some rumors said that he was dating some woman who used to have a crush on him since forever, only to break up once he realized that he couldn’t really reciprocate her. Others said that he dated some childhood male friend for a very long time until it became lukewarm and they broke up in amicable terms. Whatever it was, he recently came out from a long relationship and wanted to take a break for now.

Sasuke could understand this, logically, comprehend even, and respected Naruto’s decision to cool down for a while. But as time kept passing by with soiled sheets, longing gazes, small crush turning into a Romance Angst 30 multi-chapter pining fanfiction, Sasuke concluded that, well, maybe it’s time to help Naruto moving on. Yes, turn a new page in his life, refresh, take a new path that it better have him included in this, hopefully as his new steady boyfriend in hand.

It’d be so much easier if Sasuke was only physically attracted to Naruto, not form any kind of attachment whatsoever. However, as he kept spending more time with this blond dumbass, he was getting increasingly enamoured with Naruto’s various facets. His genuine smiles even after he faced many adversities, his unyielding determination, his optimistic way of looking at life, everything.

And whenever he’d notice blue eyes clouded in contemplation, Sasuke really wanted to reach Naruto out and tell him that it’s ok to reveal the darkness in his heart.

Once Sasuke came to term with his feelings towards Naruto, it appeared he only had this simple task of asking him out, right. Well…the biggest problem was that Naruto was the densest idiot that had ever graced in his life. People could practically throw themselves on his lap and he’d wonder if they were having a heart attack or something. Sasuke himself had his own fair share of failed attempts of flirting with no significant results, that blond moron only thought that his teasing was out of friendly competition, nothing more.

Almost a whole fucking year have passed, frustration amounting in each day. For someone who was really talkative, Naruto kept his personal life pretty much in private. And even if he’s really expressive, Sasuke had a hard time reading if Naruto was into him.

In a last desperate resort, Sasuke tried to use their company’s annual party to get some answers, any answer. Whether Naruto was into guys, or he’s just a straight blond dumbass, or he had anyone he might fancy, hopefully Sasuke would gear this situation to more fruitful results.

Company parties brew all kinds of miracles and chaos, uncovering burrowed secrets, with many twists and turns that provided enough gossip material for a month. It loosens up any uptight person into the biggest diva in those party. It even revealed many facets of a person, as Sasuke could never forget how Sakura ended up making out with her supposed “best friend” Ino, occupying the bathroom for long, long hours, only to return both disheveled and flushed. (they began dating from that day onward) This was a good opportunity to get closer to Naruto while they both get drunk as skunk.

Unfortunately for him, Naruto, who was forever the 100% boy scout, promised the ladies to drive them safely to their respective homes, not drinking one drop of alcohol while everyone around him was getting smashed. Honestly, why couldn’t they ask for an uber or something; Sasuke wondered while he brooded between sips of sake.

At last, seeing Naruto watching gay porn, it seems that the gods had finally answered his prayers. Now that he cooled down, he needed to recalculate that Naruto might only be into Japanese guys, not him specifically. That doesn’t matter anyways. Naruto was attracted to men so all is fair game now. He just had to act faster before anyone else noticed about this too.

⏤.⏤

Slamming the door stall, Naruto sat on the toilet seat, messing with his hair.

Oh God, he’s so screwed, he’s so fucking doomed. He really shouldn’t have watched that porn video. There’s no way Sasuke wouldn’t grasp everything together and he’s really scared what would happen next.

Honestly, he wasn’t supposed to feel this attracted to Sasuke. Even though they work in the same sector, they were part of different teams, taking care of different clients and would only meet whenever everyone would go out to eat lunch or go to a bar after work, with some occasional short talk if they stumble on each other through the corridors.

In these pockets of interaction, Naruto was becoming increasingly fascinated towards Sasuke. Extremely smart, quick with sharp snarks and sarcastic humor, Sasuke might look unapproachable for most people, but he cast such alluring spell to Naruto. They could spend hours talking about any subject, from the existential questions to the most inane things happening in their lives. They had many points of view in common, also respecting their differing opinions even if they engaged in a healthy debate now and then.

And, well, like every art director, he was all into pleasant aesthetics and Sasuke was definitely included high in this list. Piercing dark eyes, smooth alabaster skin accentuating his high cheekbones, his face was perfect in all symmetrical proportions, body chiseled out like the finest Golden Ratio there is. (forgive Naruto for the momentary show of nerdism) He always stood out with his stylish clothes, posture lax but in a very cool way, with his hands in his pockets and chin slightly raised giving out a sophisticated aura.

It’s been a while since he was in the dating department, so admittedly Naruto wouldn’t know how exactly he’s supposed to approach him. Plus, he made up his mind that he shouldn’t try anyways, to benefit of them all.

The thing was…Naruto always thought that Sasuke was kind of out of his league, you know? He was way too attractive, too cultured with a high intellect that was too much for a regular dude like him. Shikamaru rolled his eyes, insisting that Naruto should at least test it out since the UST between those two were going off the roof but the blond man remained resolute.

…he heard stories. About how Sasuke never engaged in any serious relationship, settled only with casuals and one-night stands. So considering that Naruto was becoming more and more attached to him, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to accept only getting physical aspect of this.

The solution then? Denial denial denial. Yeah, forget how much he enjoyed having Sasuke around, how it seemed that time stopped around them, and yet it would fly by in an instant. Forget about all the countless times he yearned to touch Sasuke’s face, feel the soft touch of his lips.

His sketchbook was getting filled with drawings of Sasuke and it’s really not his damn fault that this bastard was this photogenic, he also couldn’t explain the urge to be next to that brooding man, just so Sasuke would feel less lonely. But when he saw much to his utmost terror that he was now adding himself into these sketches, doodling him kissing Sasuke or some tender cuddling, Naruto realized that maybe he didn’t do a good job keeping his feelings at bay. His little crush was turning a little too intense to his own taste and he’s honest to God hoping he’s not becoming too creepy. Better burn those doodles to a crisp and draw harmless things like flowers or whatever.

But now, all his efforts he had done to suppress himself had evaporated with his slip. Most positive scenario was Sasuke not connecting the glaring points (very unlikely, since that damn bastard is a genius) and only teasing him from time to time. Worst scenario would be Sasuke actively pursuing him and Naruto wouldn’t know if he’d be able to resist him and then have his heart broken by the end of it all. He better get ready with whatever situation it might hold in the future.

Days had passed nevertheless and nothing happened. A week went through and there was no reaction coming from Sasuke. Naruto didn’t know if he needed to get more paranoid because if Sasuke was silent, he’s plotting. He witnessed first hand how shrewd that man could get, changing various clients’ mind to accept their envisioned marketing campaigns and he really wasn’t looking forward to be the next victim.

Interaction was inevitable considering they work in the same room, but they were plenty busy juggling with their tasks to properly chat on that week. This was enough to make Naruto relax for a bit, taking a quick break as he went outside for a snack.

“I don’t think he needs a bun. He’s fine with sausage by itself.”

“WHAT THE FU⏤” Naruto swiveled around once he heard the familiar baritone voice, as the street vendor winced from his loud scream. “Fuck man! Why do you have to creep on me from behind all the time?!”

“It’s really not my fault when you’re such a airheaded blond.” Sasuke muttered, while he asked for a cup of coffee.

When Naruto accepted his grilled sausage, he scowled. “Hey, and since when you can order food that was supposed to be mine?”

“I’m just speeding up the process so I can get my own coffee soon, and ordered based on previous assumptions that you like big thick sausages. Or am I wrong in such assessment?”

Sasuke didn’t miss how the bewildered face turned crimson red once Naruto caught the innuendo. Naruto grabbed his arm, hissing. “About that last time, I swear to God if you spread this around I⏤”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sasuke answered monotonously.

Naruto loosened the tight grip around his arm. “Uh⏤really?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about it.” Sasuke turned around, sipping his coffee. On the corner of his vision, he saw Naruto’s shoulders sagging in relief, walking behind him as they went back to the office.

He made sure he memorized for later use when Naruto absentmindedly thrust the sausage in his mouth.

“Hm. At least I finally figured out how you’re able to swallow copious amount of food without gagging.”

Naruto coughed and choked in response. “God, you’re such a bastard.” He narrowed his eyes ready for a venomous glare but stopped at once when Sasuke curled an amused smirk. Geez, why did Sasuke had such an attractive smile, and whyyyy was his heart racing like a silly highschool girl? This is so fucking stupid.

While Naruto was having his internal battle, Sasuke was inwardly patting himself on the back for another mission accomplished. If this situation followed through smoothly according to his strategic plans, he’ll have passionate sex with Naruto by the end of this month, for sure.

--.--

AN:  This story was supposed to be a pure PWP but then I was like "wait, I need to give a good reason for those two to boink" and this monster of a fic happened. Lord help me. (but still, I'd really enjoy if you guys will leave a review)

Chapter 2

[hollyhockash]

Replay Value Bliss Stage hack

Bliss Stage is an indie tabletop that bears just barely enough resemblance to Replay Value for me to write an article like this. In the original flavor, it is a game of Teens Pilot Giant Mechas That Are Metaphors For Social Relationships. (The anime resemblance is apparently intentional.) If Bliss Stage were to be used as the framework to play a Replay Value-based game, it would play out extremely differently. But it might just be workable.

If you are not familiar with the Replay Value setting, this writeup's extensive references to parts of the setting will not make much sense. If you are not familiar with Bliss Stage, I don't talk about major swathes of the rules because I am not altering them, so you'll be missing context. If you are familiar with neither Replay Value nor Bliss Stage, good luck...?

Characters and PCs

Replay Value has much less of a metaphysical separation between PCs and NPCs than Bliss Stage does. As such, I almost want to make every character either Pilot-shaped or non-Pilot-shaped and see what happens. But only almost. See, the thing is, making every character Pilot-shaped leads to a rapidly escalating complexity of bookkeeping, and making every character non-Pilot-shaped means stripping out most of the interesting parts of the system.

I guess this means that there's a metaphysical separation between PC and NPC, but there is no narrative separation. That's awkward - workable, but definitely not the system's intended use case.

Bliss Stage has a special character called the Authority Figure that is the in-game representation of the GM. Again, there is far less of a distinction between the veteran, the regular, and the newcomer in Replay Value, and -- more importantly -- I have to completely replace the Missions subsystem anyway.

The AF's role is mechanically replaced by the impersonal force of Sburb. Players can still have social relationships with Sburb in the usual way, although the meanings of Intimacy and Trust are somewhat changed.

Not Missions

Obviously, using a dreamworld to pilot a giant robot made of feelings is not exactly Replay Value-compatible. So the Missions would need to be replaced entirely.

The Not Missions in this system would presumably be various attempts to venture into physically dangerous parts of Sburb, like dungeon-delving, Nightmare Heir battles, Underworld jaunts, or pushes on the Battlefield. I don't know how they would be represented mechanically, but they do retain the important similarity that you take your social relationships in with you as lifelines, and that they give you power.

Anchors do not exist, and as such their narrative roles do not exist either. However, the relationship with Sburb fulfills some of the same roles - for example, your Sburb relationship and relationship dice are always in play whenever you are in a Not Mission, and destruction of this relationship can be extremely dangerous.

In summary, there are lots of question marks here.

Intimacy

Replay Value being a game about internet friends, most of the Intimacy ladder markers are inherently unworkable.

This is my first-pass guess, based on how things seemed to work when I was playing RV Classic. Intimacy 4 is weirdly narrow, and is most likely idiosyncratic to the way that I, and people close to me, handled characters - if you have any better ideas, feel free to add them.

Intimacy 1

Seeing someone's chumhandle

Intimacy 2

"pass the time" talk about hobbies

being in the same Sburb session

talking about the less emotionally volatile parts of Sburb (i.e. the finer points of Sburb's house-building interface, alchemization, how Lands look, being someone's server player)

Intimacy 3

talking about the more emotionally volatile parts of Sburb (such as the dialogue used by the Nightmare Heir, or killing one's Denizen)

exchanging pictures of each other

relatively transient expressions of emotional attachment or sexual interest (such as saving a joke in anticipation for someone's return, or hooking up with someone for the session)

saving someone else's life (remember, this is Sburb, saving other coplayers' lives is a routine occurence)

Intimacy 4:

telling this person about a fundamental trauma that you have never talked to anyone about before (such as the circumstances of your Prenative or Native session, loss of a previous Intimacy 5 relationship, or killing another Replayer)

interaction with this person results in permanent changes to your body and/or mind (among other things, this includes major injury such as having a limb cut off, with the implicit understanding that the Door will not restore this particular injury, and therefore it will be permanent - but it also includes, say, confessing to someone that you have a "what would [you] do?" sense in your brain now)

Intimacy 5

declaring that you are really, truly going to make a permanent connection to this person, despite knowing full well that Replaying will inevitably break any and all attempts at permanency (this includes but is not limited to marriage, adoption, eternal friendship, or deciding that this is the person who will fill one of your quadrants for the rest of your life)

The "solo" interlude

Players can hold interludes with Sburb being the other "participant". Aside from the typical issues that arise when attempting to have a relationship with the universe, this is still mechanically considered a normal relationship and interlude. However, Intimacy is escalated by learning major gamebreaks (or other major strategies/techniques for dealing with parts of the Game, such as understanding what exactly contributes to carapace rep), Stress is relieved by taking the Game at its word and functioning within it without breaking anything, and Trust is increased by taking more time to perfect the techniques and gamebreaks that you already have.

I am not sure if an Intimacy table for one's relationship with the Game exists, mostly because while I have some intuitive ideas for what each number means, I can't find any common threads.

Stats and such

The relationship matrix is great and will be kept in exactly the same form as in normal Bliss Stage.

Presumably Bliss would need to be renamed. I would suggest that you not fiddle with the number too much - despite the (say) obvious Homestuckism of having 413 Not Bliss be the limit, it would dramatically alter the pace of the game.

Mechanically, this uses the "long game of Bliss Stage" rules, including using missions to promote NPCs to PCs and the keep-picking-new-Hopes thing.

Hopes

The only way to make major changes to the setting, in this system, is to have it be the result of your last dying (or equivalent removal-from-play) action. Thus, for example, instead of doing a Bargain for a Ring server, you would Replay until you reached your utter limit, and then give yourself to the Horrorterrors to ensure the existence of said Ring server for future generations.

This would result in the game having a "we will not live to see the fruits of our labor, but we still work towards them for future generations" theme/feel. This is not thematically aligned with my Replay Value AU, but - as I stated at the very beginning - I can recognize just enough of Replay Value in this game that this was worth writing.

[gordanladdskitchen]

Onion Pique: A French Culinary Technique To Turn Sauces Into A Masterpiece

Bonjour reader! Feeling a little French-ie today? I am going to share about Onion Pique (French - oignon pique) on this blog.

Do you know what an onion pique is, to begin with?

Onion Pique is a traditional French culinary technique, designating a type of onions preparation where it is used to add flavor to sauces and stocks with no color or texture added.

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What is Onion Pique?

How to Make an Onion Pique?

Why Use an Onion Pique?

What are the Other French Culinary Technique?

Hands on Making Béchamel- the Recipe

Ingredients you need:

Methods:

Béchamel Sauce Shelf Life

Seven Ways to Use Béchamel Sauce

Interesting French Cooking Terms You Should Know

Want to Know More?

What is Onion Pique?

Some said onion pique; some said onion clouté as the clouté means spiked in French! Onion pique is simply a made up combination of onion, bay leaves, and cloves. There is one or more bay leaves attached to half of an onion with a few whole cloves were pushed through the bay leaves into the onion. YES, just like how you push a thumb tack!

​As mentioned, the onion pique is a technique that used widely in French culinary. For example in a béchamel sauce- instead of using chopped onion which would end up leaving onion pieces in the sauce, but an onion pique/ clouté is used.

How to Make an Onion Pique?

Why Use an Onion Pique?

Using an onion pique is to helped ease in culinary technique where they would be easily removed from the dish once they have been infused.

What are the Other French Culinary Technique?

There are a few well-known techniques in French culinary, other than onion pique another is known onion Brule (French- oignon Brule), the “burnt onion” technique.

Onion Brule is a peeled onion which is cut into half and is cooked in a pan until the edges, and the surface is well toasted. The onion Brule is used to give color in broths and consommés, and its flavor does not overtake with the final result of the dish.

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Hands on Making Béchamel- the Recipe

Recipe courtesy of Mario Batali

Ingredients you need:

5 tablespoons butter

4 tablespoons all-purpose flour

4 cups milk

2 teaspoons salt

½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Methods:

Heat the butter over medium-low heat until fully melted in a medium saucepan. Then add in the flour and stir until smooth consistency. Continue cooking on the medium heat until the mixture turns to light golden sandy in color which would take about 6 to 7 minutes.

​Meanwhile, in a separate pan heat the milk until just about to boil. Then add the hot milk to the butter mixture, one cup at a time, always stir until the consistency is smooth enough and cook until boil. This should be approximately 10 minutes and remove from heat once the mixture is well incorporated.

​Lastly, season the Béchamel with salt and nutmeg, set aside, and it is ready to use!

​For better step by step recipe, check out the YouTube link “How to Make Béchamel Sauce” by Mario Batali.

Béchamel Sauce Shelf Life

Béchamel sauce can be kept 4 to 5 days in the refrigerator. Store it in the freezer if you are not planning to use the sauce at any time soon.

​Be sure that you place a cling wrap directly in contact with the surface of the sauce and close tightly with the lid cover before refrigerating it.

​By doing this is to prevent oxidation of the sauce inside the fridge otherwise a thin layer of the dry-skin-like surface can be noticed.

Seven Ways to Use Béchamel Sauce

So now that you have learned how to make perfect Béchamel sauce, but wonder what you should cook with the sauce now? Here are the seven ways to use the Béchamel sauce:

Lasagne Do you have a party that you would need to feed a crowd or need to satisfy a hard-to-please eater? Lasagne with Béchamel sauce base is always a perfect option! Click here for the recipe.

Parsley sauce Once you have mastered the béchamel sauce, then the key to making the creamy parsley sauce should be no problem at all! The parsley sauce is great served with poached salmon, or even good with grilled meat! Click here for the recipe.

Soup and chowder Béchamel is the perfect way to make creamy soup and chowder. YUMM, just the name of it is already enough to make me crave for some chowder!! Click here for the recipe.

Tuna Mornay This is my all-time favorite dish to make with Béchamel sauce! It is very easy and super-duper OH so delicious. Tuna Mornay gets its name from its signature white sauce with herbs & spices, and lots of cheese are added. Click here for the recipe.

Chicken pie YUMM… My stomach has begun to rumble! The best way to use Béchamel sauce is in a creamy chicken pie. Prepare the creamy sauce with plenty of greens and serve it right up fresh from the oven while it is still piping hot! Click here for the recipe.

Fish pie Some people would not prefer fish pie, but a classic fish pie is a fantastic food! Make your well-mastered Béchamel sauce and paired it up with perfect creamy mashed potato to make the perfect fish pie! It is simple, yet it can be a complete meal for one! Click here for the recipe.

Pasta bake Again, another pasta bake recipe with Béchamel sauce! Pasta bake is similar to the lasagne which top with cheesy Béchamel! It is a very simple recipe which you can check it out here.

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Interesting French Cooking Terms You Should Know

This blog is about onion pique the French culinary technique, and I also want to share with you a few simple French cooking terms that I reckoned every home chef as you should know! You have just learned the term Béchamel.

Julienne “Julienne” refers to a particular culinary knife cutting skill which a standard julienne cut should result in 1/8 x 1/8 x 2 inches pieces.

Blanch “Blanch” is a wonder technique that could do all kinds of great things to the food ingredients. For example, it makes fruit and vegetables easier to peel. Also, it leeches the bitterness out of veggies like kale. So how do you do it? Easy!! All you need are a slotted spoon, a bucket of ice water and a pot of hot boiling water and then all you have to do is to put in the food that you are “blanching” into the boiling water. Then plunge the food into the bucket of ice water. VOILA! Happy Blanching!

Sautéing “Sautéing” refers to the process of cooking something over the high heat with particular types of fats, usually butter.

Want to Know More?

I hope you have learn more about onion pique after reading this article and you also picked up some recipes that you love or some cooking terms that you have always wanted to find out from our blog.

​If you wish to learn about more French Culinary terms, you may click on this link here.

​Time for me to go as I need to make some onion pique for Béchamel sauce for dinner!

​Au revoir!!!

The post Onion Pique: A French Culinary Technique To Turn Sauces Into A Masterpiece appeared first on Gordan Ladd's Kitchen.