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#if i wanted a recipe for dumplings i would either take my time to find chinese cooking blogs and read the “about” section
unityrain24 · 6 months
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ghhh... got lost under mexican cooking tutorials...
#they look so yummy....#i've never cooked mexican food so im not very familiar with how it works#like when i cook from scratch it's often japanese food (and sometimes chinese) so im familiar with those condiments/seasonings#and techniques and such#so you could leave me without a recipe and i'd be able to make something decent#i mean im not like super SUPER familiar with it but that's because i dont cook often enough for that. but as far as cooking familiarity goe#japanese is what i'm most familiar with#cannot say the same about mexican#i want to try out some mexican recipes#and also do some more of the chinese ones#also like middle eastern cooking.#also i'd like to figure out how to cook vietnamese food that doesn't just taste like fish sauce#i'll use like a QUARTER of the fish sauce a recipe says. and i can still. only. taste. fish sauce.#and everything smells like it too.#idk how vietnamese places manage to not get that to happen#unityrain.txt#tw food#also. i am very into finding authentic/traditional recipes for things. which is not at all how my mom would do it lol#if i wanted a recipe for dumplings i would either take my time to find chinese cooking blogs and read the “about” section#or find cooking tiktoks/videos where the grandma is helping and cannot speak any english so the granddaughter translates#and then compare like recipes from multiple places#but my mom would just. go to the first mommy blog that comes up where the suburban mom of three running it's entire asian seasoning#consists of soy sauce garlic ginger power and a fuck ton of cornstarch#needless to say. “”ethnic“” dishes my mom would find did NOT taste great.
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In Leonard Wolf's Essential Dracula, there's a footnote with a recipe for Paprika Hendl as it would've been served to Jonathan Harker:
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I wholeheartedly recommend modifying this recipe as it's very "grandma cooking" in the sense that it automatically assumes you know how to do certain Common Kitchen Techniques For Victorian Cooks (like, you know, just make flour dumplings with zero instructions) - so here's my best take on the recipe, below the cut:
PAPRIKA HENDL À LA ESSENTIAL DRACULA (makes 6 servings)
4 lbs young chicken
2 tablespoons fat (substitute: oil)
2 large onions, chopped
2 tablespoons Hungarian Paprika (I went with Sweet)
1/2 cup tomato juice
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup sour cream
Cut chicken into serving sized portions
In a skillet, lightly brown onions in fat/oil
Blend in HALF the Hungarian Paprika into the skillet of sizzling oil & onions
To the skillet of spiced & browned onions, add the tomato juice and chicken, cover the skillet, and let simmer for ONE (1) WHOLE HOUR
Meanwhile, in a large bowl, beat flour into sour cream
After that 1 hour, remove chicken from skillet and set it aside on a plate, wrap in tin foil, and contain in oven/microwave to keep warm
In the still simmering sauce in the skillet, add the flour & sour cream mixture and add to the sauce with the remaining Paprika. Let simmer, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes or until well-blended
Pour half the skillet's sauce through a sieve or colander into a sauce boat - set aside sauce boat for serving later
Return chicken to skillet with still simmering sauce until fully warmed back up
Serve chicken on a warm platter, pouring the skillet's sauce over it and with the sauce boat on the side
Serve with flour dumplings
NOTES
1) Simmering 4 lbs of store-bought chicken breast in only 1/2 a cup of tomato juice for 1 WHOLE HOUR had me panicking and adding water and whatever canned tomatoes I could find just so I didn't burn the chicken (and the kitchen) as that was not nearly enough tomato juice to keep 4 lbs of chicken simmering for 60 solid minutes - so please modify at will, comparing with other recipes, etc.
2) The recipe calls for taking out the finished sauce and putting it through a "food mill" so I tried putting the sauce in a blender to try and turn the onions into sauce as well. DO NOT DO THAT. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES. It was a disastrous mess. That's why I modified the recipe above to just pour half the sauce through a colander into a sauce boat.
3) Oh, I'm just supposed to make flour dumplings from scratch?? I cobbled together a recipe off the internet in that long hour of simmering, the source of which has since strayed from thought and time (apologies) - so I would heartily recommend either buying store-bought flour dumplings or looking up a flour dumpling recipe ahead of time, as making them from scratch for the first time with a simmering skillet beside you is Quite Tricky
4) I added more Paprika than the recipe called for (gasp!) and honestly... I would recommend DOUBLING the Paprika in this recipe. My partner and I wanted more Paprika!! But we are fans of spiced meat actually tasting like spices and not a subtle "oh yeah I guess there's Paprika in there"
Even with all that improvising on an 125+ year old recipe with missing steps, it made for the most delicious comfort food. 14/10, would eat again with queer dreams
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thoselethalarts · 3 months
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𝒮𝓉𝒶𝒽𝓁𝒾 ℋ𝑒𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓇 - 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎
(SSR) Birthday Suit Up (Part 2): “Happy Birthday!”
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(Pomefiore Dorm: Birthday Venue)
“Would you say you’re a better baker or a chef?”
Stahli: What a good question… I’m not really sure! Stahli: Baking and cooking are like polar opposites, you see. You need to treat both processes very differently. Comparing my skill between the two is like apples to oranges.
“What do you mean?”
Stahli: How do I put this… Cooking is a craft where you can be very loose with your ingredients. Recipes are more like a template or a guide, you can make changes easily and still come out with something delicious! Stahli: However, with baking you must be richtig – very strict, exact, and precise. If you alter a recipe even slightly wrong, you will ruin the whole dish. Stahli: You cannot add too much or two little of any one ingredient, you must bake at the exact perfect temperature for the exact right amount of time… Stahli: For more complex recipes you must also ensure there’s enough air beaten into the batter and that you do not overmix… There’s lots of things to consider! Everything is very as it is and unable to be easily changed. Stahli: Cooking is like a dance of ingredients in a pan, and baking is like entering a professional dance competition! Either way, I find the journey to deliciousness a fun one~
“What would you say is your signature dish?”
Stahli: I suppose that depends on the medium! Stahli: One of my favorite things to bake is perhaps scones. My grandmother taught me her recipe, and I never once forgot it. Stahli: She used to fry hers and serve it with cinnamon honey butter. I don’t make it often, but they’re really such a comfort food of mine~ Stahli: The scones I make regularly are a more crumbly kind that has fruit in them. I make sure to add extra berries when I can, and I’ll split them in half to add extra jam before I eat them~ Stahli: Outside of baking, I’m also quite proud of my schnitzel and maultaschen recipes! …Ah, sorry, I don’t know the words for them in English. Stahli: How to describe them… schnitzel is where you take a piece of meat, like a porkchop, and you pound it flat, bread it, and fry it until the outside is crispy and golden. Stahli: Sometimes people make layered schnitzel, so the inside is strips of ham and cheese. My mother used to make it that way for me when me and my sisters were younger~ Stahli: Maultaschen is like a filled pasta dumpling… I think that’s the right word. Stahli: You take pasta dough and make it like a pillowcase, then fill it with all kinds of good things! My favorite is made with grilled peppers, onions, and sausage. Stahli: You close them up, then take the dumplings and either fry them in butter or simmer them in a soup, and you’re done! Stahli: I usually like them fried, but whenever someone is sick, I’ll make them some in a soup to help them feel better. Stahli: I made some for Epel a couple weeks ago when he had a cold, and he said it was one of the best things he’s ever eaten in Pomefiore! It made me so happy to hear that~ Stahli: If you’re ever sick, please don’t hesitate to call me and I’ll make you some too! It’ll cure your illness faster than anything else, and that’s my promise~
"You sure know a lot about cooking."
Stahli: Haha~! Well, my parents can be thanked for that. Stahli: Both of my mothers are very busy most days. Between running the family shop and tending to the garden and orchard, they may be around but they would not be able to do much in the way of housework. Stahli: In the evenings they would usually be so tired that cooking was a pain to do. And, of course, when the shop is being run during the day they cannot cook for my youngest siblings. Stahli: They wanted us, the older siblings, to be able to help with cooking when we are able, so that nobody must suffer when they are not around to help. Stahli: Me and my older sister learned how to cook all their recipes and help them in the kitchen! My older sister does not like to cook as much as I do though, so I often did most of the extra cooking and baking around the house. Stahli: She finds it to be a chore, but I find it quite fun and therapeutic. To each their own! I'm glad that my mothers taught me how to cook.
/ To Be Continued…
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meowzfordayz · 3 years
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slow eater
Author’s Note: this is SO LONG. 😅 Idea for this came to me while eating brunch today bc HeLp my appetite and eating speed are small and slow and laughable. Also… HeLp again bc there are so many Hashira ?? 😭
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slow eater
Hashira x Reader
Word Count: ~2,700
CW: explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence, traumatic references
~faqs~
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Gyomei’s a sweetheart With excellent time management Plans his meals to line up with either the beginning or end of yours —He initially approached you, very respectfully, with a proposal for mealtimes “Would you prefer to have my company for the first or last hour of your meals?” You almost teasingly responded, “Neither.” But you figured he would cry before he could recognize your playful tone So you opted for, “Whichever is most convenient for you” It’s helpful when he joins you at the beginning Because you miss him as soon as he’s gone And eat hurriedly to be able to go find him But you love when he joins you at the end You’ve generally resigned yourself to foods naturally eaten at room temperature Dumplings don’t stay hot Ice cream melts to soup And you wish you could enjoy a full cup of tea that actually scalds your tongue But, alas You can’t Anyway When he joins you at the end He’ll often bring a warm addition for your meal A flaky pastry Or a tiny bowl of ramen broth Bite sized Gulp sized —You don’t talk much over meals Don’t talk with your mouth full? More like can’t talk with your mouth full. More talking = less eating, and less eating = more time wasted Okay, okay not wasted But like, people have things to do, places to be, things to see And Gyomei isn’t just “people” He’s a Hashira! So like Things to do, places to be, things to see x 1 million Your unspoken compromise is he doesn’t eat with you very much So when he does He, his time, his energy, his focus It’s all yours Only yours But you still don’t talk much over meals Because when you first started eating together
Before he came up with his proposal; before your unspoken compromise
There were multiple occasions where you finished lunch… And then it was time for dinner
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You snooze, you lose He doesn’t wait for you —Ever That being said, he does check in on you Typically you take 2-3 hours If you take less, then he worries If you take more, then he worries Which is why he checks in on you When you eat faster than anticipated, he swoops in and hassles you “Are you feeling okay?” “Did you forget to eat yesterday?” “Did you like that meal?” he’s already memorized the recipe, just in case And when you eat slower? You’ve either fallen asleep Or are plaintively pushing the lingering tidbits of your meal around “Did I give you too much?” He has yet to stumble upon the perfect [y/n] serving size “Does it taste awful?” One time he mixed up salt and sugar “What’s going on?” This question he’ll ask quietly His trademark strictness mellowed by genuine concern Sometimes it’s something silly “I lost track of time winning an argument against Tomioka-san” … in your head, that is But other times, it’s serious He’ll stare hyper focused on the tears shimmering in your eyes And spring into action Food? Saved for later Dishes? Cleared You? In his arms, breathing shakily “I’m here,” he’ll rub your hip in gentle circles “I’m here…” he’ll murmur into your shoulder And gradually, you tell him Sometimes it’s waking up with the weight of death clinging to your shadow Other times it’s struggling to get through the day without thinking, without missing, past companions He understands All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) He listens He knows Harshness has no place when it comes to matters of your heart
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Sit down meals? —Nah Mitsuri insists on feeding you on the go You feel childish walking around beside her as she carries “[y/n]-chan’s splendid lunchbox!” But she’s quick to shush you “I can’t sit and eat from daybreak to day’s end,” she reminds you fondly “Yet I selfishly want you with me,” you blush at her forwardness “So let me be with you!” You acquiesce Not that you have much of a choice You’re totally enamored And like, totally aware that your slow eating isn’t her fault It’s merely a symptom/side effect/unfortunate reality of loving you Which means [y/n]-chan’s splendid lunchbox? —Becomes a known entity Gyomei sniffles the first time he spies Mitsuri feeding you, “So cute. So considerate!” Obanai snorts, “I guess that’s one solution.” Shinobu asks Mitsuri where she got the lunchbox, “Perhaps we could supply the corps with them? They seem much more effective than bundles and wraps.” Mitsuri’s glare is unexpected This splendid lunchbox is [y/n]-chan’s! Shinobu doesn’t ask again Kyojuro laughs heartily in approval, “Splendid indeed!” While Sanemi makes gagging noises, “Pathetic.” Mitsuri leaves a warranted bruise on his shoulder for that Muichiro doesn’t quite get it, but nods regardless And Giyuu hardly quirks an eyebrow, gesturing indifferently, “How nice of you.” “You call that a FLASHY lunchbox?” Tengen exclaims You don’t care how confident that man is You take one glance at Mitsuri Clutching your splendid lunchbox embarrassedly And you stomp over to Mr. Flashy-Flamboyant-Obnoxious-Hunk-of-Man “Uzui. Tengen. My lunchbox is flashier than any gift you could ever dream of giving. That lunchbox? Is Kanroji-sama’s affection, compassion, and generosity all in one,” you exhale menacingly, “And you WILL apologize”. Mitsuri squeaks Tengen squeaks You saunter back to Mitsuri and gently pat her cheek “Mitsuri-san? I’m hungry.” Wordlessly, blushing rose from the tips of her toes to the tip of her nose, she opens your splendid lunchbox and feeds you some leftover fried unagi
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She’s super smart Extremely intelligent Figured out how to circumvent your slow eating from day 1 How? Lots of SMALL meals Breakfast, lunch, and dinner aren’t a thing with you Nope, nope, nope With you it’s: —good morning munch —2 hours later snack —midday assortment —2 hours later hanger soothe —dinner tasting menu —before bedtime last call Alternatively, imagine all the meals the hobbits from LOTR eat; i.e. second breakfast She doesn’t care how you eat when she’s not around But she lovingly refuses to attempt any semblance of a proper meal when you’re together And tbh, you’ve completely switched to the small meals model Because suddenly, you’ve found yourself with so much more TIME Time to wash laundry after dinner before bed Versus having to wake up asscrack early to squeeze it in before breakfast Time to fit in an extra sparring round before lunch Versus bowing out early because you know if you don’t start eating lunch soon, then your day’s plan is screwed Hmm Maybe you’ll use some of your newfound time to handmake Shinobu something for her birthday… After all, she’s the reason you even have the time!
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Doesn’t faze him Really he doesn’t mind Mostly because: if you’re eating, then he’s eating Proportions don’t exist He thinks he’s super sneaky He’s not He’s super thoughtful though! Decided long ago when he realized you take basically forever to never leave you alone Cafe, restaurant, food stall, your place, his place, anyone’s place Wherever He stops when you stop Doesn’t want you to fixate on how much time has passed Just wants you to feel at ease  And full And satisfied —In fact He’d love to eat with you a lot more than he does But eating with you is, ngl, expensive ?? Because like, he eats for as long as you eat And he eats p fast So that’s A LOT of food And yeah, he’s a Hashira Unlimited salary But he doesn’t like to think of himself as a glutton Absolutely not Kyojuro’s a gentleman fo shizzle Waiting ever so kindly for you Umai! P.S. The one time he rushed you resulted in a lot of burping and moaning about not feeling well Never again He’d rather grow a few grey hairs than hear any hint of discomfort in your voice
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You’re so so so speedy when it comes to Everything else? So Sanemi was in for a rude awakening when he finally ate one-on-one with you Like All the previous times he thought he wanted to strangle you? Those were simply… A result of his simmering, growing, uncomfortably undeniable love for you  He’s acknowledged and addressed and yada yada that love since then Believed he was good to go No more strangulation impulses
Correction: now they’re purely sexual But FOR FUCK’S SAKE —How does he tell you he never wants to eat with you one-on-one again without breaking your stupid heart and feeling like an idiot dickhead? “Why do ya eat normally with everyone else?”  Might as well start somewhere “What?” you’re not offended Just, confused Sanemi is the opposite of a small talk person ?? I am not an asshole. This is a reasonable question to ask. I am not an asshole. I am not an… “You eat normally with everyone else, and then we sit down to eat, just the two of us, and ya eat slower than someone without any fucking teeth.” Deer in headlights You’re even more confused, and also now a little offended “You’re the crankiest, most restless man, since like, cranky and restless came into being, so I don’t think your opinion counts,” you snap He’s seething “AT LEAST I WON’T DIE FROM OLD AGE WITHOUT EVEN FINISHING MY BOWL OF UDON.” —You’re unimpressed “Nemi.” Phew. If they’re using my nickname, then they can’t be too pissed… “You’re going to scream in pain when I stab your eyeballs out with my chopsticks because apparently I can’t even eat in peace without riling you up.” You smile pleasantly “But I certainly won’t kill you, because then who would stay with me while I eat?” Sanemi’s very proud of how his hands don’t move even slightly toward your neck “Compromise.” You gasp in feigned delight, “Are you asking me to define that word for you, or are you using it?” He snarls, “Compromise.” “What’s your compromise, Nemi?” “I will eat with you, just us, from time to time. But I get to choose when, where, and what.” “Not good enough Nemi,” you singsong … He carefully tackles you in an instant You’re stuck with your back on his chest His legs pinning yours to the ground Arms locking your wiggling torso in place “My last meal before a mission, and my first meal after, are yours.” But. That. Is. It. “Are you going to tickle me?” you huff “Do you accept my terms and conditions, bitch?” he huffs back “You love me?” you whisper His arms loosen, hands slipping familiarly under your waistband, fingernails grazing delicately along your hips “You’re dumb for having to ask.” You giggle “Do you accept my terms and conditions?” he presses his thumb demandingly into the softness of your inner thigh “Only if you eat with me now,” you mutter cheekily, “It’s almost dinnertime.” All he hears is “Only if you eat me out.”
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He’d forget why y’all were even there if your unfinished food wasn’t a constant reminder Sometimes you have the same conversation over and over again It’s actually pretty fun You’re glad you can recycle the same jokes And he doesn’t mind being asked to reheat your food Once Twice Three times? Although he does occasionally ponder why your food’s cold in the first place He forgets that you’re actually at like, the fourth place —Early dinners confuse him Because it’s light out when y’all start And out of nowhere, the moon’s shining He doesn’t mind though He always make a point to hold on to the sound of you giggling at your own jokes Even if he never remembers the jokes themselves “Why is the grass so dangerous?” he says one afternoon “Why?” your eyes widen excitedly “I was hoping you’d know the answer,” he admits sheepishly. “I only remember the first part of the joke.” You grumble good naturedly It’s not like you’d told him that joke six times over breakfast earlier seven times, it was seven “Because it’s full of blades,” you huff Full of blades! He likes that one Cause, yanno Blades Wait What’s full of blades?
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Giyuu’s straightforward “You’re a slow eater.” He’s not unkind Just matter of factly Thing is You endear him He loves how you poke at your meals Not in distaste Just in an entirely unbothered manner How you get sidetracked rambling on and on Tangenting from here to there Spiraling into who knows what He’s tracked your train of thought before Pineapple to ceramics to shoes, then elbows, cats, and snow He could pretend to make sense of you But like You definitely don’t make sense He probably shouldn’t let you prattle on as much as he does But he’s just so hopeless He surrenders countless hours to your musings and wonderments Sometimes, after eating with you, he feels like he’s returning from a fever dream Wtf If it were anyone else, he’d feel overwhelmed Frankly, you do overwhelm him But if your mind is a fever dream Then he never wants to wake up Giyuu isn’t the chattiest of men And you chat enough for the both of you He appreciates that immensely Eating with you Is when he feels the least pressured No pressure to say something Meaningful Powerful Eloquent You just present question after question And half the time he doesn’t even get around to answering Because then you’re mumbling about squid and blue glass and the scent of cotton To clarify He feels heard Like When he’s in a bad mood You pick up on it immediately And gently coax him into saying Whatever’s troubling him Somehow, you provide precisely what he needs Nothing more Nothing less Only you could obliviously talk and talk and maintain his utmost attention Only you could unwittingly create the right size, shape, and amount of space For him to feel —Safe
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You whine when you’re left to your own devices So he’s started doing his nightly training in the kitchen Or enlists Hina, Makio, and Suma to save him from having to watch you painstakingly eat another singular grain of rice —Your eating is truly the least flamboyant event he’s ever had to experience And he experiences it far too frequently Unfortunately, nightly training in the kitchen may not be the greatest solution anymore You tend to get distracted horny “Tennngen-saaama! I keep dropping my riiice!” And then “How about you come feed me?” He’s down bad for how exaggeratedly you bat your eyelashes don’t worry; his cock is definitely up; no issues there He feels badly for all the food waste he knows he’s responsible for his cock has no regrets —When Hina’s with you she cleans up the kitchen Heck, she can usually get through the entire cycle of washing, drying, and putting away the evening’s dishes And then organizes the junk drawer Keeps her busy, at least Actually sitting across from you while you eat rice is definitely cruel and unusual punishment Best to keep busy —Makio’s an expert at goading you into eating faster She doesn’t have the patience to coddle you “For fuck’s sake [y/n].” “Do you have any idea how infuriating this is?” “Every meal. Hours and hours and hours.” You feel terribly — you know you’re slow asf Makio’s conscience falters at your guilt ridden expression But it’s worth it She gets herself you out of the kitchen faster than anyone else —Suma lowkey loves being put on prevent-[y/n]-from-whining duty You see, she’s an avid reader Well If she had enough time to read, then she would be So getting “stuck” in the kitchen with you just means she gets to read Aloud To you It’s adorable Highkey everyone, Tengen, Hina, and Makio, loves when Suma’s on duty You? Not so much She chooses the corniest, repetitive stories But ugh. Oh well Sometimes you purposely eat even slower with Suma You may dislike her taste in stories But she’s precious And she deserves to get her reading in
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13uswntimagines · 4 years
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Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)
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Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food
Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam. 
Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.
“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand. 
“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it. 
“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin. 
“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?” 
“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents. 
You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy. 
“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them. 
“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her. 
You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”
“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food. 
“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!” 
You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.” 
“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right. 
“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork. 
Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”
“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?” 
“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,” 
“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. 
“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,”  Sam said shaking her head. 
Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,” 
“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman. 
“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”
“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.” 
“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.  
“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along. 
“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted. 
“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.
Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,” 
You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set. 
“What is that?” 
“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling. 
“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove. 
In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart. 
“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face. 
“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister. 
“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun. 
“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.
“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump. 
“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously. 
“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly. 
“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked. 
“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”
“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane. 
“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter. 
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?” 
*****
“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”
“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally. 
“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back. 
“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled. 
How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it. 
“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.” 
“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her. 
“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls. 
“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”
“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.  
“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded. 
You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?” 
“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you
You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”  
“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.
“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat. 
“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used. 
You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth. 
You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”
“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container. 
Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream. 
“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly. 
Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”
Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess. 
“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out. 
You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk. 
“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing. 
Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,” 
“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded. 
You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”
 Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,” 
You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,” 
You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you. 
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McSpirk Family Headcanons
So I was looking randomly through Picrew, when suddenly I came up with a bunch of McSpirk family headcanons (hence the title of this post)!
Anyway, first we have:
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Joanna Kirk-McCoy
(Made with this Picrew)
Taking after Jim, Joanna tends to get into trouble sometimes.
Her reasons are mostly 1) Protecting someone from bullies; 2) Pulling pranks on crewmembers and her dads.
Often times Jim will laugh with her (“Stop encouraging her,” Bones and Spock would say).
Even on some occasions (most of the time) her dads would be the pranksters with her being the one to get pranked on.
Joanna’s really smart and the top of her class. Of course, she gets it from Spock.
She wanted bangs like Spock, so he cut her hair at request. (Jim at one point tried to, but you could say it went a little south.)
Like Leonard, she is loyal, compassionate and hard-working.
She is very artistic and expresses herself a lot through her paintings.
Her mom, Jocelyn, couldn’t provide for the both of them as she was dealing with being a single mother. So, she let Leonard take full custody.
Joanna likes her mom’s new boyfriend, Clay. She thinks that he’s good for Jocelyn, considering the amount of help he’s done to help her stay afloat.
Joanna enjoys walks around the Enterprise, and loves having conversations with the other officers.
With her dads help, Joanna has come to love and enjoy making food with them, learning new tips and advice along the way.
Joanna always knows when someone’s having a bad day (especially when it comes to her dads).
She’s always there for them, and does everything she can to cheer them up.
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Leonard “Bones” Kirk-McCoy
(Made with this Picrew)
Leonard and Jocelyn steadily become good friends, even before he took full custody of his daughter.
Joanna calls her fathers different names. For Leonard, she calls him “daddy.”
Leonard is a very tired man and always wakes up bed-headed. (Spock and Jim definitely find it sexy.)
He and his husbands are always borrowing clothes from each other.
Jim tends to hide some of Leonard’s shirts for work, so sometimes he’s either wearing shirts that are too small or too bunchy.
They’ve talked about it before, so now it only happens at least once a week.
Leonard is more of the mom in the relationship, what with always having to keep an eye on his family (especially Jim and Joanna... but mostly Jim because he gets in the most trouble).
Frequently, Jim and Spock would have one of their friends babysit Joanna while they took Leonard to dinner; to have time off from stress and work.
Leonard’s grateful for the date nights and late nights in bed.
Every year, when it’s the anniversary of his father’s death, Leonard would get into a mood where he sort of distances himself from everyone else.
Jim and Spock try to be there for him. So when the day’s over and he comes back to their quarters, Spock would assist the slurring doctor to their bed.
In the morning, Jim would set out a water and pain reliever before going ahead and calling Medbay, informing them that he’d be coming to work late.
After Leonard woke up, Joanna would be there to softly greet him and make sure he took the water and pain reliever and eat something to eat before heading out.
Leonard doesn’t know what he’d do without his family and friends.
Even though they have replicators, Leonard likes to make dinner most nights for the family (or when he’s not working overtime in Medbay).
Leonard’s favorite dish to make most of all is his mother’s chicken and dumplings recipe.
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Spock S’chn T’gai Kirk-McCoy
(Made with this Picrew)
Joanna calls Spock “sa-mekh.”
During the cold season, Eleanora McCoy (Leonard’s mom) crotchets sweaters for the Kirk-McCoy family (though she would crotchet Spock at least three). Spock is very grateful.
Spock has a nice relationship with Winona Kirk, as she has been on Vulcan before.
They talk about a lot of things: about Vulcan’s beauty, it’s flora and fauna, and great cuisines.
Winona told him that she knew his father and mother, giving Spock her condolences for his loss. Even if it might’ve happened years before, Spock was grateful.
He’s learned to embrace his human side, balancing both logic and emotion.
The first time Spock let out a genuine laugh was when Joanna braided both Jim and Leonard’s hair in the middle of the night, adding a few stickers to their faces.
Soon enough they were all laughing.
Spock is more into vintage fashion of 20th century Earth.
On some occasions he would grow his hair a little longer.
He likes hot summer days during shore leave, always wanting to spend those days with his family at a beach someplace.
Also during shore leaves, Spock enjoys the times he goes with Joanna and (on some occasions) Nyota to the mall.
Joanna is always eager for Spock’s opinions on the outfits she tries on, because he allows her to get it if it’s appropriate enough.
Like Leonard, Spock likes to cook for the family when he has the time.
Most of the time he takes care of breakfast—he makes potato latkes.
Joanna even said a few times: “I love latkes so much that I can eat them for the rest of my life.” This always brings a smile to Spock’s face.
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Jim Tiberius Kirk-McCoy
(Made with this Picrew)
Joanna calls Jim “Papa Jim.”
At first she started calling him dad, but he interjected by saying, “What? Why not a cool name like Spock’s?” Joanna giggled.
She started listing off ideas to Jim when she came across the idea “Papa Jim.” It had a nice ring to it, so they shook on it.
Jim can sometimes spoil Joanna, giving her a lot of little trinkets from the planets they travel to.
Sometimes Jim commences activities for the crew to do, like celebration parties, as a way to make everyone happy.
He still gets nightmares about Tarsus IV, but Spock and Leonard are always there with him in bed.
Spock would spoon him, softly whispering in his ear while Leonard got up to bring him a glass of water. Soon enough Jim falls back asleep into a dreamless sleep.
Joanna knows Jim’s had a nightmare, even if she sleeps through his pained whimpers. So, she walks over and plants a kiss on the top of his head.
Most mornings (especially after a nightmare), Jim would get up earlier than usual to meditate with Spock. This allows him to regain a calm state of mind.
When Spock or Sulu have the conn, Jim sometimes let’s Joanna sit in the Captain’s chair when he’s either off to Medbay for a checkup, or beamed down to a planet.
Most of the time it’s Leonard who cooks, but Jim can make a mean doughnut (he’s better at baking rather than cooking).
When movie night comes around, Jim is always active about what film they should watch.
A lot of the stuff he picks are films from the 19th-20th century, whether it’s black and white or in color.
Some movies the others get tired of watching because some of Jim’s picks they consider “boring.”
I still have more headcanons yet to come, but until then, I hope you enjoyed reading this post! If you have some headcanons of your own and wish for me to add in a next list, go ahead and send them my way!
I plan to do more for this McSpirk family concept, and I’m honestly hyped just thinking about it! But for now, have these! :)
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readyplayerhobi · 4 years
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Flower | 37
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; Hoseok x Reader
; Genre: Fluff
; Word Count: 5k
; Warnings: Discussions of IVF, sperm donation
; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?
; A/N: Thank you for the reception to the last chapter! :D I think that was the most comments/feedback in a long time for Flower haha. It means a lot to me to have your comments like that <3333 I hope you enjoy this one, perhaps it’s not really what you were expecting. I changed the last few around and the characters had decided this was the way they wanted to go! (it might sound silly but honestly, characters have a life of their own!)
; Flower Masterpost
-
“Meeps!” Hoseok’s calls from the hallway, catching your attention from where you’d lined up all your baking ingredients on the counter. “I’m heading out.”
Placing the glass bowl down carefully, you wipe your hands clean before heading out and smiling at him brightly. He’s got a dark denim jacket on alongside his new favourite black leather biker style boots, looking suitably rocker and even more sexy. Maybe you had a thing for those boots.
You don’t let him know this though, just watching as he pats his pockets to check he has his phone and wallet before a concerned expression takes over his face. Chuckling, you reach out to tap his hand, revealing the car keys he’s panicking over and causing his cheeks to fluff a pretty rose.
“Thanks. Do you want me to bring you anything back later? I can swing by the store on my way back home once we’re done?” Shaking your head at him, you squeeze at the hand you’re still touching and give him a thankful smile.
“No, I’m good. We’re going to order in later. Maybe that Japanese place that we ordered from the other week or something. Thank you, though. Enjoy yourself, okay? Text me when you’re going to set off.” Hoseok nods before leaning forward, giving you a quick kiss before he’s out of the door. 
Standing for a moment, you overhear the sound of his car starting up before turning around and heading back into the kitchen. Grabbing your phone, your fingers tap at the screen as you let the girl’s know that the door is open for them to just walk in. Almost as soon as you’ve sent the message into your group chat, you’re distracted away by the bark from Ciri at your feet.
She’s still pretty small, only a little bigger than she’d been three months ago when Hoseok had proposed, but you think that just makes her look cuter. Thankfully, she’s been very easy to train so far and she’s currently sat so prettily as she looks up at you, big eyes staring intently at your hands.
Another short, sharp bark makes you laugh as you glance at the stuff you’d gotten out to bake with. Crouching down, you stroke her fur and make baby noises to her until her tail is sweeping the floor rapidly.
“Ciri-billy, I haven’t even started yet! You can’t eat them as they are now. Have some patience my darling.” You don’t know why you call your pets the nicknames that you do, or even where the names come. They just tend to pop out of your mouth when you’re talking to them and you just roll with it.
It’s caused Hoseok to laugh more than once to hear you call Kasumi your chicken or Ciri your little pudding. Particularly given you don’t call him by many pet names, instead just using his name or Hobi. Occasionally he’ll get a ‘babe’ or a ‘sweetheart’ but it’s not too often.
“Soon my bub.” Giggling, you give her a final stroke before standing back up and facing the counter. Quickly opening Spotify and beginning the playlist of your favourite songs, you keep your phone within easy reaching distance while looking over the recipe you’d printed out earlier in the day.
It takes only minutes for you to become entranced in what you’re doing; careful measuring of ingredients and the delicate balance of mixing them to create a wonderful treat. Only what you’re making today isn’t for yourself, or even your best friends.
No, they’re for Ciri. You’d found a recipe for grain-free dog treats and you’d decided to try making them. Part of you couldn’t quite believe what you were doing, particularly for a dog, but you would enjoy seeing Ciri enjoy them all. It wouldn’t surprise you if Hoseok decided to try and eat one himself.
You’re so involved with baking and singing along to the music that plays through the Bluetooth connected speakers in the kitchen, obviously something that Hoseok had bought because you’d considered it pointless, that you don’t hear the front door opening. It’s only when you turn to put some of the finished treats onto the wire trays that you’ve lined up that you realise when Chungha is suddenly standing in front of you.
Shrieking, you jump and have to battle to not drop all the freshly baked goods onto the floor while cursing up a storm. Almost immediately she moves to help you, apologising profusely as she yelps when grabbing a falling dog treat, her face twisting as it burns her fingers.
“Oh fuck! Chungha, shit. Are you okay? Oh my god, come over here.” Tugging her to the sink, you turn on the cold water and shove her hand under it, ignoring her whine of pain as the cold water interacts with her burn. The two of you focus on making sure it’s okay, even resulting in you going to grab the first aid kit Hoseok had bought a year ago when a sudden voice interrupts.
“What is going on here?” Two sides of wide eyes turn to Soyeon, letting her see the medical stuff you’ve haphazardly thrown on the side as you’ve looked for the burn ointment you could have sworn was in here. A glance at the treats causes a small ‘o’ to form on her pretty lips before she leans against the counter, elbows on the top.
“Ooh, baking mishap?” Teasing you with a grin and a wiggle of her brows, you nod before handing Chungha the tube you’d finally found. She gives you a smile of gratitude and applies some to her hand, her lips pursed into an adorable pout as she concentrates. You’re so busy concentrating on watching her that you almost miss Soyeon’s hand as it reaches out to the wire trays.
“No!” Shouting, the word causes her to jerk in surprise as she snaps her hand back with almost obscenely wide eyes. Cringing, you realised that you’d perhaps been a little bit too loud and give her an apologetic wince.
“Sorry. I just...they’re not for us. They’re for Ciri! I found a recipe to make some treats for her so I thought I’d give it a go. Think I made enough for her?” Brow raising, you chuckle while gesturing to the ridiculous amount. Perhaps you’d bought a little too many ingredients and gotten just a little excited in it.
There’s no way you could feed Ciri all this before they went off. She’d end up getting sick, and you hated having to clean that up. Which meant you couldn’t because then Hoseok would have to clean it up and you know he’d whine and pout the whole time.
“I can take some back for Mandu?” Soyeon offers, referring to the cute golden labrador that Jungkook and her had adopted two months ago. They’d gotten her from a shelter as a puppy and Jungkook had been the one to pick her name, unsurprisingly choosing something food-related given mandu was Korean-style dumplings.
“Sure, I’ll make sure you can take some back for Eevee too,” Glancing to Chungha, you gesture over to the box on the other counter. “For us though, I did make us some triple chocolate cookies! Not entirely sure how many are left because Hoseok was being a locust.”
That gets a snort from them all as you separate the dog treats so that all three dogs will get an equal amount before washing your hands. Chungha puts the kit away and takes out two glasses from a cupboard before handing one over to Soyeon. The two take a glance inside the fridge before filling them up with fizzy lemonade.
As far as you knew, that was just what Hoseok liked to drink with one of his alcohols. It made it more like a soft drink or something.
Grabbing the box of cookies, you head into the living room and sit on the couch with a leg curled up beneath you. Your best friends follow and sit as well, looking over at the television where Netflix has been paused in the show you’d been watching. One of what was considered to be your worst traits was that you took far too long to watch the ‘popular’ shows, which is why you’d finally started watching Breaking Bad way too late.
Hoseok had been bugging you to try and watch it for years now but you’d just never been interested.
“Ooh, you’re getting to a good bit.” Chungha comments, reaching forward to grab one of the cookies out of the box and munching on it. A soft noise of happiness leaves her as she chews, her butt wiggling as the flavours melt on her tongue.
“Shh, I already have to put up with Hoseok doing that. I don’t need you doing it too,” Pursing your lip into a pout, you cross your legs and grab the sleeping Pikachu cushion from your side before hugging it. “I’m going, to be honest with you as well, I don’t really like this. I don’t get the hype.”
As expected, both of them look at you with shocked faces that make you want to laugh. You don’t know what it is about going against the grain but the reactions you got never ceased to amaze you.
“Are you kidding? Breaking Bad is like...television perfection! The character arcs are just...urgh, exquisite.” Brow raising, you watch as Chungha continues to wax poetic about the show while Soyeon nods along and interjects now and again in support.
“Well, I think it’s pretty boring. And I don’t like Walter. He’s an asshole.” More shocked looks cause you to reach out and take the PS4 controller, exiting the show and moving on to look through the large list of shows and films Netflix had on offer. Without any input from either of them, you settle on The Umbrella Academy.
You’d already watched both seasons but it was something easy to have on in the background while you all probably talked instead. 
“How’s wedding planning?” The question comes from Soyeon, who lets her head drop onto the back of the couch. Kasumi is laid out next to her, probably purring contentedly as her soft fur is stroked and she gets all the scratches and love. Ciri is currently curled up between Chungha and you, her tail hitting your thigh gently.
“Good, good. We’ve chosen a date and booked the venue so...we’re going to get the invites done as soon as we can. Before we get onto picking stuff for the actual ceremony and all that, we’re going to book the honeymoon. Priorities, you know. I think we’re leaning towards Argentina for two weeks at the minute but that might change.” You were adamant on exploring the world with Hoseok and Argentina would be your first foray into South America.
Which wasn’t much really considering you’d only ever visited Italy and Thailand so far. But still, when the opportunity arose then you would grasp it firmly.
Chungha finishes off her cookie before brushing at her mouth delicately, “Have you bought one of those wedding planner’s? Where it lists out all the stuff for you to plan and add in ideas and stuff?”
Nodding, you smile at her before gesturing over to the bookcase to the right. Alongside the books, video games, figurines and plushies that had accumulated over time was the binder that you’d purchased only days after getting engaged. Part of you was still trying to get your head around the fact that you no longer had a boyfriend but a fiancé. 
And in a couple of months then you’d have a husband. It was odd to think about.
“Ah, it’s all exciting to think about.”
“It is, but I don’t have much more to tell you at the minute, to be honest. We haven’t decided much more apart from that and I haven’t looked into anything else. I’m trying not to overwhelm myself, you know? Go slow.” That gets them both nodding in acknowledgement before they look around.
“Where’s Hoseok gone today?”
“Oh, he’s gone to a concert with Taehyung and Yoongi. Some...weird prog-rock band or something. He’s been playing some of the songs lately and they sound odd but he’s into it so,” You shrug with a wry twist to your lips, causing them to snort. “I doubt he’ll be home before midnight, to be honest, so...we have the house to ourselves, ladies!”
“I mean...I’m pretty sure the most exciting thing we’re going to do is just eat food or something. Which is probably all we ever do when we’re together. You guys are not good for my waistline.” Soyeon groans, patting her flat stomach and you give her a droll stare.
“Really?”
“Yeah?” Chungha backs you up and you can’t help but laugh in amusement, giving her an equally amused stare. She’s just as skinny as Soyeon is but you can’t bring yourself to argue with either of them. Everyone has their issues going on after all.
That thought makes you frown and you reach out to Soyeon, clasping her hand tightly as you watch her with concern. Your sudden change in demeanour causes her brow to lower, gaze skittering away from yours given how intense it was.
“You’re okay, right? There’s nothing wrong or anything you’d wanna talk about?” The sincerity in your voice makes her smile softly, her free hand coming to rest against your own and squeezing it gently.
“I’m okay, I promise. It was just a joke, honestly.” Twisting your lips slightly, you stare deeply into her eyes before nodding slowly in acceptance. After spending so long hating yourself, you didn’t want to let your friends feel even an iota of the self-hatred you had. Especially when they were so pretty anyway.
“So err...while we’re still talking about moderately serious stuff, I have something to ask both of you. I mean...well it’s kinda weird that I’m asking you both but I figure I should ask you to get your permission before asking them.” Chungha is babbling and you tilt your head in question, brow creasing as you wonder what on earth she’s trying to get at. She seems nervous given the way her fingers play with themselves and her eyes skitter away from your direction.
“Dahyun was supposed to be here, you know that, but she’s ended up having to go see her grandparents as her grandma is sick right now. Otherwise, she’d be here too. So...we’ve decided that we want a kid. And we’re looking to adopt, we’ve put our names down and everything but it takes a while to even get approved for that. But we also would like to have a baby as well. Like...one of ours. I know Dahyun, in particular, is quite eager to get to experience pregnancy because she’d always dreamed of having a baby but as you can guess, being lesbians we don’t have the option of getting pregnant so easily.” Now your eyebrows have lifted high, probably almost to your hairline as you listen to Chungha’s nervous words.
It doesn’t surprise you that they’re wanting to have kids now. They’ve been together for a while as well, and you know that they’ve been considering whether or not to get married. For the moment though, they’d just registered themselves in a civil partnership, unsure whether they wanted to go through the whole wedding thing just yet. Though you did not doubt that they would eventually go for it.
Kids were the next logical choice for them, and you felt excitement bubbling in your stomach at the thought of Chungha being a mommy. Even if you didn’t like kids, it didn’t mean that you weren’t excited for your friends when they wanted to have them.
You could imagine that it was a bit more stressful for Chungha and Dahyun as a lesbian couple, as compared to a heterosexual couple. The more you thought about that actually, the more unfair it seemed. People were getting pregnant all the time by accident, but your best friend had to go through so much effort to get the same result.
“So, we’ve looked into IVF and all that stuff. There’s not just IVF, there are other methods too. But if we’re spending money on it then we’d rather have the best chance of success, you know? I’m not explaining it very well but I’m not a scientist either, we’ve researched it a lot and had a preliminary appointment either way. I just...have something potentially awkward to ask.” She pauses at that, her face twisting into a picture of nerves and hesitation.
A glance at Soyeon has you catching eye contact, but neither of you says anything and decide to let Chungha go at her own pace. You have an idea as to where she’s going with this, but you feel that she should at least be allowed to get there on her own.
“So, we can use sperm from a sperm bank, right? It’s all checked over and vetted, but it’s really expensive. And I know that sounds rich considering we’re wanting to have a baby and the last thing they are is cheap, but we’re trying to look at all our options for the moment. What I’m trying to ask in a long-winded way is would either of you be okay if we asked Hoseok or Jungkook to maybe donate? I know it sounds awkward given we know them and you’re both dating them but they can get everything tested and I’d feel a little easier if we knew the sperm donor, you know?” A grimace takes over her mouth, causing you to frown as you reach out and squeeze her leg in reassurance.
“Hey, there’s no need to apologise. I think we’ve all been friends for long enough that something like this can be discussed without ridicule or negative emotions, right?” Looking to Soyeon, you feel relief as she smiles and nods in agreement. “I’m excited for you to start a family! You know I’m not one for kids so I can’t say I understand the whole process you’re going through but I can assure you that I’ll support you and Dahyun the whole way. In terms of a donation...well it’s up to you, Soyeon, and Jungkook. Hoseok literally can’t.”
Glancing between them both, you make a scissors gesture and watch in amusement as both their eyebrows rise in realisation. It wasn’t something you’d discussed with them before, even if Hoseok had been fine about it, mainly because you’d felt Hoseok’s health and your sex life weren’t things to casually talk about. But you felt it important at this moment to make sure Chungha knew that you weren’t being callous.
“Oh? That makes sense though, you’ve never wanted kids and it doesn’t surprise me that Hoseok doesn’t want them either then. So that leaves Jungkook, huh?” Soyeon chuckles, leaning back against the couch and stroking at Kasumi’s ears gently. You wonder what she’ll say, given it’d mean her best friend having Jungkook’s baby before she does. 
Some women wouldn’t be on board with that, and you suppose it’s a sign of how much Chungha loves and trusts you both that she’s querying you both with this. On the other hand, you have complete confidence that if you both turned her down then she wouldn’t be offended and they would instead use a sperm bank as she’d said.
Chungha turns more to Soyeon, playing with her hands as her nerves ramp up. It must be affecting Ciri because the dog sits up, tilting her head and staring almost in concern at your friend. Smiling, you scoop Ciri into your lap and scratch behind her ears until her back leg is going.
“You can say no, I won’t be offended. Nor would Dahyun, if she could be here. We don’t expect anything. I just wanted to ask you both first because I felt it’d be rude of me to just go to him instead of querying with you two. You’re my best friends and they are your boyfriends after all. Also, Jungkook can definitely say no too. Once again, we don’t expect him to agree if he’s not comfortable with it. I just...wanted to ask, you know? We kinda considered all of Hoseok’s friends because neither of us has many male friends and we’d love to be able to have a better idea of the donor’s personality, a more detailed medical history and everything. Plus, with us having to do everything medically then it helps to make it a little more ‘normal’ for us. He doesn’t have to be involved in the baby’s life if he doesn’t want to be, otherwise, I’d just like for him to be known as an uncle. In the future, we’d tell them who their sperm donor was if Jungkook was okay with it and they wanted to know.” You find yourself nodding, appreciating the fact that Chungha and Dahyun have thought this through.
While Soyeon might agree to let them ask Jungkook, there was every chance that Jungkook might not want to agree anyway. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of another woman having his baby, even if he won’t have any rights to it. Some people didn’t like things like that. Or maybe he just didn’t want to, for whatever reason.
The fact that she was making it clear that Jungkook and Soyeon were both allowed, even encouraged, to say no if they felt uncomfortable at any moment settled you. You didn’t want to think that your friends were being forced or coerced into something just because they felt that they had to do it.
“Would it be cheaper though? I mean, I’m assuming they’d have to do tests and stuff to make sure he’s not got any diseases or genetic things that they ideally don’t want to pass on? Doesn’t that cost a lot?” Chungha sighs and nods, her lips turning down slightly.
“We would, but the difference is that I doubt we’d have to do those tests often. So if he agreed then we’d have the tests done but then after that, we don’t pay anything else. The sperm bank that was recommended to us is $1000 for just one vial of sperm. So if that doesn’t work then we have to pay out again. And I’m not saying we wouldn’t pay Jungkook, we’re both willing to offer but the idea of being stung for that much for a tiny vial is painful.” The price makes your eyes bulge while Soyeon’s jaw drops.
“Holy shit! A thousand dollars for something he just washes away? Fucking hell, he’s wasting thousands every time he jacks off. Oh my god, that must be the most expensive thing I’ve ever had in my mouth then.” Snorting, you bite your lip in amusement as you consider how many times Hoseok had ejaculated with you. Though you doubted the man was getting anywhere near a thousand dollars, it was still mind-boggling to know that the price tag on a cumshot.
“It’s ridiculous, right? I mean, okay it’s not really because obviously, they have to do all those tests and stuff. But still! You can understand why we were shocked. Either way, if you or Jungkook says no then we’re going to go that way. I want you to know that we’re not laying all our eggs in one basket. No pun intended there.” That makes all of you chuckle, the mood lightening up as you do so.
Reaching forward to the box you’d placed on the coffee table, you grab another cookie before handing more out to the two of them. Each takes one with a grateful smile before biting into it.
“I’m okay with it. I’m not sure whether I want kids or not and I think we’re just taking it as an ‘if it happens then it happens’ approach. So, to me, I’m not bothered if Jungkook says yes. Plus, you’re my best friend and I’d much rather you have a baby where you know the dad and can get more information from him. And oh my god, Jungkook would make such good babies. They’d be adorable and he has the sweetest personality!” Soyeon squeals, shaking the cookie around in excitement as she imagines his metaphorical children.
For a moment, you imagine it as well and can’t help but smile. You certainly hoped that his babies would all get his big, emotive eyes alongside his endearing personality. Before you can comment on it though, Soyeon continues.
“I will make it clear though, that he doesn’t have to say yes. He might not be comfortable with the idea of having someone he knows having his kid. Or he might not like the idea of not being involved in their lives in a father kind of way. On the other hand, he might turn around and say that he isn’t bothered at all and will give you as much as you want. But I want it to be up to him. Thankfully, I’m not a hugely possessive person so I’m not bothered by the idea of his kids with someone else.”
Watching Chungha’s face carefully, you can’t help but smile at the palpable relief that spreads over it upon Soyeon’s words. That smile vanishes though when you see her eyes glisten, the unshed tears forming fast and causing you to gently put Ciri onto the floor before you’re scooting over to her. Wrapping your arms around her, you make reassuring noises.
You’re not one to get emotional, nor can you handle other people’s emotions, but your best friends are different. They’ve been in your life for long enough by now that you feel the urge to care for them, to listen to their worries and soothe their fears. Seeing Chungha, who is normally so strong, starting to cry at Soyeon’s words makes your stomach hurt.
“Hey, hey!” Soyeon gushes, rushing over to the other side of Chungha until you’re all in some kind of weird cuddle fest. It just makes Chungha let out a laughing sob, the sound thick as the tears slowly start to fall.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if I was doing the right thing asking you both this. I know it’s something so big and important. You might have told me to fuck off and got angry with me at even thinking of it and I was so scared that you’d be annoyed by it. I mean, how many other people are going to ask their friends if they can have some of their boyfriends’ sperm to knock up their partner?” Wiping at her tears, you tut softly as you try to erase the eyeliner and mascara that’s begun to smear as well.
“I mean, it is a slightly odd ask. I think we can both agree with that,” Soyeon nods in agreement, running her fingers through Chungha’s hair. “But we’re your best friends. You didn’t demand this from us, you gave us a choice and made it clear we can deny it. I’ll be honest, if Hoseok hadn’t got the snip then I would’ve said no. I’m not personally comfortable with the idea of someone else having his baby. But I know that you would have accepted that choice and not tried to push me. Same as you’ll accept whatever decision Jungkook makes.”
“Yeah, she’s right. We love you, and we know you love us which is why you felt you could ask this of us. I’m more than happy to help my best friend start her family and I know that Dahyun has made you happier than anyone else has over the years. If everything works out then I’m going to be the coolest aunt ever.” Grinning brightly, Soyeon manages to succeed in making Chungha laugh softly.
Getting up, you rush off to the bathroom before coming back and handing her some tissue and make-up remover wipes to clean up her face. A brief smile of gratitude is given to you before she proceeds to scrub at her face.
“You’ll both be great auntie’s. Even if you’re not going to be hugely into the whole thing.” She’s looking at you then, wry amusement in her eyes as her lips twist slightly. Feeling heat spread in embarrassment at her words, you shrug and murmur an apology.
“Don’t worry, we won’t push anything on you. That is, even if it manages to happen. Who knows, maybe we’ll get approved for adoption super quick and we go through that first instead? I have no idea what’s going to happen.” At that moment, Ciri decides to make her presence annoy with a shrill yap.
Looking down at the floor, you chuckle at the sight of her annoyed face that she got pushed off the couch. Reaching out, she jumps up and wiggles herself so that she’s half on Chungha and half on you.
“Okay, I think we’ve had enough emotional and in-depth talks for today. Or at least, for this hour. How about we put on YouTube and just start watching animals being funny? Cheer us all up.” Reaching out for the controller, you exit Netflix as Soyeon nods.
The conversation isn’t quite over, you can tell that much, but you know that for now it’s just being put onto the back burner. You don’t have much more participation you can give the whole thing given you’re not being involved in it, but you’re sure that Chungha and Soyeon will talk everything out much more in-depth before Soyeon asks Jungkook.
It’s an important topic but given Chungha’s emotional nature right now, you don’t want to push it any further just yet. Instead, you figure it’s time to lighten the mood a little before any more serious talk can be had.
“Find one of those TikTok compilations, they’re so funny.” This comes from Soyeon as she points at the screen.
“What? No way, you have to watch like 20 TikTok’s to find one funny one. Vine was so much better.”
“Those are fighting words.”
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thealexchen · 3 years
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Lis: tc Headcanon Ask
How do you think Steph, Ryan, and Gabe met/bonded over in Haven before Alex?
That’s a great question, but a blog post from Square Enix already went over this with canon info! Gabe arrived first and Jed (Ryan’s dad) helped him get back on his feet and get a job at the Black Lantern. Then Steph was touring as part of her two-piece punk band with her then-girlfriend Izzy, stopped in Haven Springs, and decided to stay: "After an all-nighter with Gabe and Ryan, Steph made the impulsive decision to take the open job at the local record store and try her hand in the DJ booth.”
But I suppose that’s vague enough to fill in the gaps with more headcanons... sorry this took me two weeks to answer. I just wanted to write a few headcanons and I accidentally wrote a oneshot, lmao. But please, keep the headcanon prompts coming! I put it under a "read more," so thank you for your patience!
Alex was 13 when she entered foster care, and I've previously theorized that she wound up there after her parents died. The "Meet Gabe" video says Gabe ended up in juvie, but I think he was already in juvie before his parents died (or else he would've been put in the foster care system too).
So at 17, Gabe is serving time in Oregon, separated from his sister, and now newly orphaned. Once he's out, he's bitter and alone and adrift, so he floats from place to place, taking odd jobs and working his way east.
There's something... magnetic about Haven. When Gabe arrives at 18, he stumbles into it more than anything. He was just passing through Colorado and he happened upon Haven like it jumped right out of a fairytale. He’s so struck by how it seems frozen in time, untouched by all the ugliness of what his life has been over the last few years.
Soon after, he meets Jed and Ryan, who's fresh out of high school and dead set on becoming a park ranger. Gabe wants to hate Ryan for how charmed his life has been, living in a place called Haven Springs with a dad like Jed. But they're just so damn nice, and within a year they feel like family. Ryan is three months older than Gabe, but being outdoors either brings out this sage wisdom or childlike glee in him. Mostly, he’s excited because Gabe happily becomes his new hiking partner.
Slowly, Haven Springs heals Gabe. But before he heals, he has to hurt first. When Ryan invites him over for dinner one night, it takes sitting around a table in a warm dining room, laughing about nothing in particular with Jed and Ryan, for Gabe to realize what he misses. He misses his own family dinners— God, he misses his parents so fucking much. He misses Alex even more, who always sat to his right with smooth plaited braids and drank out of the same pink plastic cup. He starts talking openly about his family again, but most of all about Alex: “Alex would blast this band all the time.” “Oh man, Alex hates celery. Maybe your recipe would change her mind.” “These flowers are so pretty. Would Alex like wrapping bouquets?"
He tries and tries again to make his favorite childhood dishes. He makes his own soup broth and clumsily folds dumplings with Ryan and quietly grieves that his dishes don’t quite taste like how he remembers. Somehow, Ryan gets it— because his life wasn't as charmed as Gabe thought. Ryan actually listens to Gabe, remains quiet at all the right moments and offers just a few comforting words that are enough to soothe Gabe’s heart. He tries to repeat them to Alex, but he can never word it quite right. “It made more sense when Ryan said it,” Gabe always says to her during their phone calls. “I wish you could meet him. You'd like him."
And then he blurts out, "As soon as I'm able, I'm bringing you to Haven." She's 16 now and has been through far too many adoptive families at this point, and he puzzles over her evasive answers about "emotional outbursts," but knows not to press it.
So some time goes by. Gabe is 21 and stoked to bartend solo for the first time when Ryan slides up to him and shows a him a flyer. "A two-piece punk bank," Ryan says. Later that night, the lead singer is all over the stage, completely lost in the song. The drummer is keeping the beat, but she hardly smiles. Gabe is almost startled watching her— a little lost, a little sad. Yet she still plays her heart out, refusing to not give anything less than 100% for the music. She is just like his sister. Instantly, he thinks, “She and Alex would be a perfect match."
The drummer slogs to the bar after the show and immediately demands a pint. Gabe secretly dilutes it with water, and one hour turns to three as she, Gabe, and Ryan get deep into conversation. Eventually she sighs, “Everything about my life seems so great. I get to see a new town every night; play all these shows… but this isn’t where I expected my life to be."
Gabe nods thoughtfully, remembering himself at 18. And suddenly he’s telling her everything— getting arrested, finding out his parents were dead and his sister had been shipped off to a group home over the phone while in juvie, the months spent adrift before he found this place. He doesn’t know why he’s spilling his life to a girl he just met, but she seems open and friendly and maybe he wants her to consider sticking around in Haven too. Three hours stretches into six as they talk and drink and laugh and reminisce like old friends. The first rays of sunlight are shining in the bar when Steph blurts out, “So hey, I was wondering… do you need a hand at that record store?”
Over time, Gabe watches Haven Springs heal Steph: her residual anger slowly fades and she wonders why she ever played punk songs. Sometimes Gabe sees her coding or sketching potential character designs. Other times, they bum around the bar and play video games in the backroom, surrounded by greasy pizza boxes like they're the teenagers that Gabe never got to be. Their hikes are a little noisier now because Steph wants to feed the squirrels or some other stupid shit, but Ryan puts up with it. After all, he has a sense of humor too. 
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starshinegoblin · 4 years
Text
We Found Love
♥ Co-Written with @ruensroad ♥ Status: Completed ♥ Rating: T ♥ Pairing: ZhanCheng (Lan Wangji x Jiang Cheng) ♥ AU: Canon Divergence; No One Dies; Arranged Marriage; Mentions of XianNing & Nielan; Happy Ending; ♥ Where to Read: AO3 | Only chapter one will be posted on Tumblr. ♥ Author’s Note: If you don’t like this paring then do not read it. Absolutely do not send either us disgusting hate messages here or on AO3 about you not liking this paring. Just move on and live your best life. Otherwise! Enjoy ♥ -------
Lotus Pier - Jiang Cheng: Age 7
Tongues were wagging throughout all of Lotus Pier it seemed like. No matter where Wei Wuxian went, purple clad disciples and servants gossiped plainly in full view, loud enough he didn’t even have to eavesdrop! It wasn’t even that good of news!
His shidi had been matched with some alpha in Gusu and Madam Yu had apparently scored the match of the century. Whatever that meant. Not that it mattered, anyway.
It was awful news! Terrible! Jiang Cheng’s betrothed was too far away to punch!
To make it worse, Madam Yu had now turned her attention on Wei Wuxian himself. Never a good thing. A matchmaker had come to see him just that morning, pinched his ear lobes and arms, checked his teeth and eyes and core. He was a gifted alpha himself, and the matchmaker had seemed pleased. He shivered in the memory of her hands on his hips as though he was an omega like his shidi . His hips! He was only eight!
Embarrassed and indignant, Wei Wuxian had run away to hide until lunch, when a growling stomach had him crawling out for food. With a handful of pilfered dumplings, he ran off again before Madam Yu could get him in her sights, making a break for the docks behind his and Jiang Cheng’s shared rooms. It had a pagoda over the water and he grinned to see Jiang Cheng sitting on the edge with his feet in. He always came here when he needed to think.
“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian hurried to his shidi’s side and plopped gracelessly down beside him, a grin brightening his expression. He shoved a dumpling in Jiang Cheng’s face. “Lookit!”
Jiang Cheng had been content to be out here on the pier by himself. He’d been singing and wiggling his toes in the water where the fish were coming up to gently nip. His solitude was invaded too soon and he had a good warning before Wei Wuxian was upon him. His shixiong wasn’t one for stealth and was louder than a laughing monkey. His mama’s words, not Jiang Cheng’s.
Jiang Cheng had braced himself to be thrown in the water but not for the dumpling to the face. He was still quick enough for him to catch it before it landed on the white robes his mother had told him to practice wearing. Jiang Cheng didn’t get it but what his mama said was law. He wasn’t going to go against that.
“You're lucky that I like these carrot dumplings!” Jiang Cheng fussed, sharply elbowing Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian pouted, but just lightly shoved him back and stuffed his mouth with dumpling. For a blissful few moments, there was just his obnoxious chewing, then his dark eyes zeroed in on the white robes. “...I thought you were gonna live here?” he said, mildly alarmed and immediately in protective older brother mode, picking at Jiang Cheng’s sleeve. “Why are you wearing Gusu robes? Your alpha picky or something? I’ll punch him in the nose! Then his fancy white robes won’t be so fancy!”
“No, no! It’s mama! She had Biyu-gu make them for me. She said I have to practice.” Jiang Cheng hummed, taking another dumpling from his brother. He leaned in smelling his brother’s warm cinnamon smell for when he was protective. Jiang Cheng didn’t need protection. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “I’m not going anywhere and my alpha gave me butterflies.” he said proudly because they’d been soft grass butterflies that’d been made by Lan Wangji. His faint smell of a bunny and sandalwood had still been on them. “She’ll have you practice too when she finds you one!” He shoved him back.
Wei Wuxian shuddered at the memory. “That creepy old matchmaker looked at my hips,” he said, pouting. “I’m not an omega! Why did she have to grab my hips?” He squirmed, nose scrunched. The old beta’s smell had been oddly strong with perfume. He still felt a bit sick from it, even in memory, like the very thoughts of the woman stunk too. “I hope she finds someone nice… I want someone nice.”
He offered another dumpling and bit into his own, looking out wistfully over the water. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted a simple mated life. He wanted someone to fawn over, and maybe farm with? Someone who liked to eat good food and play! That was the dream. “I wonder who it’ll be,” he hummed and nudged Jiang Cheng’s foot with his own. “Do you like your alpha?” he asked. “Madam Yu said it was… the match of the century? Whatever that means. If you don’t like him, I’ll punch him,” he reminded his baby brother, nose in the air. “And butterflies? How many did you get?”
“Two and I don’t know. He’s been nice to me.” Jiang Cheng answered, wondering how Lan Wangji had felt getting his toy of a husky. It’d been one of the rare gifts his father had given him and despite it only being a toy his shixiong was still scared of it. So he’d sent his most precious toy that he’d been sleeping with to his alpha. Hopefully, Lan Wangji took care of it like he would the butterflies. “And no punching! Remember what mama did last time you did that?” He shivered at how shrill her voice had gotten.
“But you’re my shidi!” Wei Wuxian countered and scooted against him to get his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “I don’t mind getting hit or yelled at! You are most important,” he said happily and rubbed his cheek to the other’s, giggling. “Besides, shijie made it all better with her soup!” He gasped just thinking about it. “Do you think she’d make some for us?”
“If not then all we need to do is ask. We know how she loves us best.” Jiang Cheng responded, leaning into Wei Wuxian’s hold. He couldn’t help but feel content. Times like this were the best. “And she’s just making sure you can have young with your mate. You’ll probably have your own sect!” He teased.
“Nuh-uh! I’m your shixiong! Neither of us are going anywhere!” Wei Wuxian clung to him all the more stubbornly. “My mate can come here and we can plant lotus together.” He seemed extra excited about that. “And maybe rice and peppers! Then shijie can always make us yummy food!”
“You really wanna be here? What if where your mate lives is wonderful?” Jiang Cheng asked, laughing at how his shixiong’s scent spiked up. “Besides, you know that shijie is going to go live with that peacock? Mama already said and she seemed so happy when they visited.”
“Then I will cook,” Wei Wuxian pouted again, his lip wobbly at the thought of her being gone. It didn’t last long, however, when a thought occurred to him. “Say, Jiang Cheng! Maybe you can cook too! What do they eat in Gusu?” he asked, thinking of how Jiang Yanli practiced daily to cook for her peacock omega prince. “Maybe your alpha would like to try our food? He’d love your soup!”
“Maybe? His letter mentioned onion and mushroom soup?” Jiang Cheng answered, sounding unsure. It’d been a little line after he’d written about a page and half in regards to his favorite dishes. He’d even sent his alpha his sister's lotus soup recipe.
“Well, let’s go talk to shijie,” Wei Wuxian offered, stuffing the last dumpling into his cheek like a chipmunk and hopping up. He helped Jiang Cheng to his feet. “Remember what she said?” he asked thickly around his chewing. “Food is the path to the heart! Come on!”
He took off running, only pausing once to make sure Jiang Cheng was behind him, and giggled, taking his hand to lead him the rest of the way.
Cloud of Recesses- Lan Wangji: Age 8
In Gusu, the spring sun was a welcome warmth with the breeze that seemed to still carry winter’s chill. Lan Wangji held his betrothed’s little husky to his chest all the tighter with one arm and wrapped his cloak more firmly with the other, cradling the beloved toy into the safety of his chest. It smelt fragrant of green grass, sunshine, and young wheat. He supposed that was what Lotus Pier smelt like, as well as lotus pods and water, and as the head of the plush brushed under his chin, it stirred up the soft, sweet smell, tickling his nose.
Wordlessly, he shuffled through his uncle’s garden, where Lan Qiren grew herbs. He’d read Jiang Cheng’s letter so many times he’d memorized it, as well as the list of foods he didn’t know or recognize. Thankfully, one of their cooks was from Meishan and understood the neighboring Yunmeng’s cuisine, though the list of spices she’d given Lan Wangji to find were very hard to discover. He’d already checked the kitchen gardens, after all, even though the cook had warned him he’d have to go to Caiyi to even find half the list.
Stubbornly, he kept looking. Lan Wangji gently toed at a small green spot and knelt down to brush away some dead leaves around the little marker Lan Qiren had put in. Sage, it read, a good find. But it wasn’t pepper, or chili, or paprika, the first three and most important spices on the list. Thankfully, his uncle had ginger, not too far down the line, and he took care to wipe the marker free of old leaves and early sprouting weeds too. Anything to help his uncle, even in a tiny amount.
He heard footsteps behind him, light and familiar, but didn’t stop, given he’d found a new sprout trying to peek out under a blanket of mulch. He carefully uncovered it and tilted his head, wondering what a ginger plant actually looked like.
“Be careful Wangji or you’ll pull it out before it’s time.” Lan Xichen’s voice said from behind him. A tender smile on his face as he watched his brother hover around the growing ginger sprout. He’d been on his way to visit his shufu when he’d been stopped by Yu Lee. She told him that his brother had been looking for spices.
“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji greeted him, standing and turning to face him. He carefully fussed the toy he held close, brushing it off, even though no part of it had touched the ground. Once he was satisfied, he looked down at the ginger again, thoughtful. The name for ginger was phonetically the same as Jiang Cheng’s surname. He wondered if Jiang Cheng was spicy too? Even though he smelt sweet?
Turning back to Lan Xichen, he stepped close to show him his list of spices. “Cook says I need to go to Caiyi for these,” he said softly. “Even shufu does not have the first three in his garden.”
“Oh,” Lan Xichen blinked, taking the list to see what was missing. He could smell the small tinge of unhappiness from his brother at not having found what he needed. Lan Xichen hummed, knowing that they would have to go to Caiyi even before he crouched down to be at his brother’s eye level. “Yu Lee wasn’t wrong Wangji. We will have to visit Caiyi. I think shufu is going there at the end of the week. Perhaps, I can ask if we can go?”
Lan Wangji perked up at that. “Please,” he said, not used to asking for things, but this was for his future mate. It was important. Jiang Cheng had been kind enough to send him a list of foods he liked. The least he could do was learn how to make them. After all, Jiang Cheng was to be a sect leader one day. Lan Wangji’s job was to help him as best he could. He wanted to cook for him, care for him, make the load lighter. That’s what a good mate did! So he would.
Still, it was a bit disappointing that he had to wait. But waiting was its own reward. It gave him time to prepare for all the little bottles he had to store the spices. They needed a box to keep them cool and dry, safe from moisture and weather. That meant...
“Xiongzhang,’ he said, gently tugging on Lan Xichen’s sleeve, “i want to build a spice chest.”
“Would you like me to help you Wangji?” Lan Xichen beamed. His adorable little brother rarely asked for things. His eyes flicked down to the well loved stuffed husky under his brother’s arms. Lan Wangji hadn’t let it go since he’d unwrapped the box it came in.
Lan Wangji nodded, grateful. He didn’t know how to make one, but hopefully his brother did, and if not, he would know who to ask.
“Would you like to start now? I think that Master Peng has some scraps we can use?” Lan Xichen asked, standing up straight.
Another nod, then a hand wrapped around his own. Lan Wangji let himself be led off, holding the little husky close. “Prepare for spices,” he reasoned to his big brother. “Have the bottles already.”
“Of course, one should be prepared for our mates.” Lan Xichen chuckled, though he was serious. Those words had made him wonder what his own mate would be like. His shufu had spoken to many in hopes of finding a match for him. The first had been Jin Zixuan but then Madam Jin and Madam Yu had secured his mating with Jiang Yanli. The next had been Wen Xu from Wen Ruohan. But then Wen Xu’s elder brother died and Wen Xu became the heir and found a mate. His shufu hadn’t pressed for When Chao and he was glad? During the last time he was in the Nightless City the omega hadn’t liked him. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside as Lan Wangji lightly squeezed his hand. “Then we must visit the apothecary when in Caiyi unless you want to have special bottles.”
“Got them from Cook,” Lan Wangji said, proud of that. She’d been kind enough to hand him her old bottles when the new allowance had hit, allowing her to buy all new bigger bottles to use for her kitchen. Lan Wangji had thought to fill them with colored sands and rocks, as well as beads and shells, but now with a mate to consider, he wanted them to remain true to their use. They were spice bottles, so spice bottles they would stay.
“I will be prepared for Jiang Cheng,” he promised his brother with all the seriousness he could muster at eight years of age. “Does xiongzhang wish to prepare for a mate too? I will help.”
Lan Xichen blinked at how Jiang Wanyin had gone to Jiang Cheng so quickly. Then his smile thinned as to the question of his own mate. He shook his head. “You will be a good mate for Jiang Wanyin. He is lucky and no, I do not have a mate to prepare for Wangji. I am here to help my didi prepare for his. So, if there’s anything you need help with then just ask me.”
Lan Wangji knew that already, so just nodded seriously and held his brother’s hand more firmly. “ Xiongzhang will make someone very lucky too,” he said solemnly, earnest and confident. His brother was the best person in the world, after all. He deserved the world. “Maybe I can help shufu find someone for xiongzhang?” he wondered, looking to Lan Xichen for approval of the idea. Lan Wangji hadn’t appreciated the last person Lan Qiren had tried to match his brother with. Wen Chao was a brat and a spoiled one. He'd wanted to push his smug face off the mountain.
“I would like that very much.” Lan Xichen smiled cheerfully at him. He knew that his brother meant well. He just hoped that there was someone out for him. “You know me the best and will give Shufu the best advice.”
Lan Wangji preened a little, not that it showed on his face. Still, his eyes were a tad shinier, almost glowing, and his scent warmed in pleasure. He held the husky under his nose to remind his brain what Jiang Cheng smelt like and a tiny smile lit his face. “I will, xiongzhang,” he promised, and promises were forever. “Only the best for you.”
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hs-devote · 4 years
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5. T H E   S T Y L E S
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Moodboard // Content // Masterlist
Disclaimer:
All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.
Previous chapter :
Harry was accustomed to returning to a house that was always dark, and empty. There was only him, or Suzanne - if she was having work to do . Until that night, Harry was confused when his house did not feel as quiet as usual.
5. THE STYLES
His head tilted to the voice, finding someone who he hadn't met in months, his mother, in his dining room, eating whatever it was with a glass of red wine next to her plate. Harry blinked his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating. No way his mother was in here, travelling all the way from Manchester. She would tell him if she wanted to visit.
“Mum?” He mumbled, much more like to himself while his feet taking him closer. Anne just smiled, raising her glass. “Why come home so late? It's 11.00 pm already.”
The first thing Harry did; hug his mother tightly, feeling so miss her. “What are you doing here? Why you didn't tell me you're here?”
“I just miss my dear son so much. I didn't want to bother you if I called you. Think a surprise would do something, did it?” Anne ruffled Harry's hair. Harry chuckled, letting his arms go. “Definitely.”
Anne took a good look over her son, she hadn't seen him in a few months, but it felt like years. In fact, she could have often to visit Harry, but she knew Harry would spend more time with his work. Harry wasn't someone who prioritize work over his family, no, he was just happy to work hard to make his family proud.
“I met Suzanne earlier and she cooked these delicious meals. Lucky I didn't wait for you in starving. It surprised me that she cooked the recipe that I gave.”
“Oh! No wonder Suzanne knew my favourite food. They were your original recipes, weren't they?”
“I just want to make sure my son always remembers his mother with those cooking recipes!”
Both of them laughed out loud, exchange stories here and there. His mother was a place where he could tell his story without having to care about people's judgement – of course, he wouldn't say something that makes Anne sad or worry. The last thing he wanted in the world was to see the sadness on his mother's face.
“I didn't see Clementia, where is she? Is she coming with you?” Harry asked, his eyes looking around his dining room. But he didn't see anyone but his mother.
“She had fallen asleep in the second room.” Anne shrugged, sipping her wine. “She's in her college break and came home since she was getting bored in Milan. So, I took her here.”
Harry was not the only child in the Styles family. He had a younger sister, Clementia, or used to be he called her Cece. She was a fashion design student in one of the best fashion schools in Italy. Thanks to Harry for successfully persuaded Anne to let her study abroad.
“If she wasn't lazy enough, she could explore the south-west. Really, really beautiful place.”
“She just missed her older brother so much, Harry.” Anne swatted her son's arm playfully. “Are you hungry? I think there are still leftovers for you.”
Harry shook his head, telling her he wanted to take a shower and go straight to sleep afterwards. After bidding her good night, Harry headed to his room.
The sun shone brightly this morning, replacing the moon in the sky. His feet soles froze when stepping on the cold bedroom floor. Harry slowly rose up from the bed, walking out from his room with the sleeping robe that was not perfectly tied, showing a little amount of his chest hair and his swallow tattoos. This morning felt more alive than usual. His mother was cooking while chatting with Suzanne, who helped her for breakfast. Then he found Clementia who was busy capturing the morning view of London from the living room.
He stunned in his spot for a short time, smiling over the nice ambience he rarely felt while living alone in London. This was rare, or almost never, his morning felt warm like this. Harry was accustomed to having breakfast alone, or at least with Suzanne – yet she cleaned the kitchen more often than accompanied him to having breakfast together.
“Why girls love to show off on Instagram like that?” His deep morning voice startled Clementia. Making her yelped in surprise. The girl threw her brand new phone, she tackled her brother in a big hug.
“I miss you so much, H!”
“Miss you too darling.” He hummed, rubbing her back. Anne just smiled, watching the interaction of her children.
“How did you know I was recording it for Instagram?” Clementia asked, releasing his body from her. She dropped her body to the couch, grabbing her phone.
“Because you're now posting in that Instagram story thingy.” He teased, glancing slightly to her screen – which displays Instagram feeds. He could see her icon now circled by pinkish colour.
“I'm amazed by the view! Your living room is insane. I mean, you can see the whole of London clearly as possible through this big glass. Hell, almost all of your living room's walls are glass.” She answered in awe.
“Enjoy while you're in London then.”
“Breakfast kids!” Anne shouted, placing her freshly cooked foods. Pulling his chair, Harry sat at the end of the marble table, his smile wide due to having companies for this morning's breakfast. He muttered small thank you when Anne got his plate.
“Hey, H. Any recommendations place for me today? The weather outside is nice for sightseeing.” Clementia asked while chewing her pancakes. Harry stopped, his pink lips pursed as if he was thinking hard. “If you enjoy some foods, try Maltby Street Market, or walking down the street in Camden or Soho?”
The siblings talked a lot to each other. Harry was the brother who always asks how her sister at school and what she learned while living abroad. While Clementia was a talkative little sister with her enormous curiosity. Anne just listened to them, sometimes talked to Suzanne about Harry's daily life.
After finishing his food, Harry put his plate in the dishwasher and getting ready to the office. Thirty minutes later, he appeared in his work suit. His unbuttoned red shirt clad his fit body, with a black suit jacket hanging on his arm. “I have to go, bye mum, Suzanne, and.. Cece.”
“Hey, how many times I have to tell you don't call me Cece!” Clementia yelled from her seat, making Anne pinch her arm playfully. She shook her head, watching her son closed the door while Cece still ranting.
“Mum, do you think I can pay him a visit in his office?” Clementia mumbled, asking Anne. Her mother just shrugged, “As long as you don't bother him.”
. . . .
Black boots stomped on the floor, eyes fixated straight as she walked into the building. The way she dressed up in a fancy Italian ready-to-wear brand catching every eye. Almost everyone in the room guessing the lady was a model for the way she walked and her clothing taste.
“Hi, I want to see Harry, please.” Her voice made Madeleine snapped her head on her desk. Looking at her from head to toe, not in a rude way. Standing in front of her, a female teenager who looked no more than seventeen years old. What did this little lady want to do with her boss?
“Err, Mr. Styles?” Madeleine asked in uncertainty. Even though this girl knew Harry, Harry might be not knowing her. She could be his stalker. Young people, these days could do whatever they want.
She nodded, “Yes.”
“Do you have an appointment? Can I have your name, Miss?” Madeleine flipped her book, eyes looking up and down her screen. Looking out if Harry had an appointment today.
“Tell him Clementia wants to see him.”
“Please wait. I’ll confirm with him.”
Meanwhile, Harry had Y/N over his office. Both of them were not really working. She made dumplings back at home before she went to the office and she thought it would be nice if she brought Harry her home-made food for lunch.
“You should bring me more homemade meals, you know? I could save my lunch break and do anything while chewing my lunch.” Harry said while clamping the dumpling with chopsticks.
“I think I could do that, something more simple than dumplings.”
“Mhm, this is very delicious.” He chewed, his tongue felt every taste that exploded on his mouth.
“Thank you, Harry.”  Y/N nodded, happy that Harry liked her food. She only stared at him while he was eating, he looked really enjoy it.
Incoming call: 628 – Madeleine Brown
“Harry, Madeleine's calling you.” Y/N looked at his ringing office phone, Harry just nodded –gesturing her to pick up the phone, “Just pick up, please.”
“May I? Wouldn't she be wondering?”
“No need to worry, just pick up already.” Slowly, Y/N pick up the phone, saying hello before Madeleine told her someone outside his office wanted to see Harry. The person was waiting while they both talk.
“Harry, someone's want to see you. Madeleine said her name is.. Clementia?” She asked slowly, her eyes looking at him curiously. Hearing Clementia's name made him choke on his food, made Y/N bring his drink to his mouth, hands rubbing his back. She started to suspicious after seeing Harry's reaction. He looked so surprised. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's fine, send her in.”
Y/N told Madeleine to let this Clementia girl in. In thirty seconds, his door burst open. A young girl was no more than twenty years old standing confidently, her eyes squinting at the two of them. Y/N must admit this girl looked so stunning, and rich. Who was this girl? - her inner goddess folded her arms. Her insecurities began to lock her up. Was this his girlfriend?
“I don't know you have a companion, Harry.” She asked, eyes looking at Y/N cautiously. Harry rolled his eyes, “I don't know you're coming either, C.”
“I was going to take you out if you weren't busy, seems I was wrong.” She answered, pulling the vacant seat in front of them. “You don't want to introduce me to her?”
From the way Clementia asked, Y/N could sense a tease there. But she wasn't sure. She just sat next to Harry, didn't know what to do. Harry gathered up his lunch box, whispering thanks while rubbing Y/N's waist. Clementia chuckled, seeing that small – soft gesture her brother gives to this female next to him.
“C, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Clementia – the little sister.” Y/N offered her smile yet relieved smile, Clementia just waved her hand.
“I don't know you have a sister, Harry.”
Clementia widened her eyes, putting her hand on her chest – in disbelief. “You never told her about me? What a shame, Harry.”
“No, never. I just found out now.” Y/N beamed, looking at Harry and Clementia. Her eyes scanned her figure. While Harry has green eyes, she has bright hazel eyes. If she didn't know they are siblings, she would think they were not related.
“From all your dates – intimate time together, or even light conversation, he never talked about me? So sad.” She sighed, leaning back in her seat.
“Your sister looks sad, H.” Y/N mumbled, giving her an apologetic smile.
“I guess.. when you were on a date, I think it would be better to enjoy time together than talked about other people, wouldn't it?”
His sister just smirked right away, just intending to lure him to talk who was the woman in front of her. Clementia always admits her brother's type in women, but this woman seemed different. If usually she saw Harry with famous women. Y/N looked nothing to them. Not in a bad way, of course. She looked professional in her business attire, while she stared at her eyes, she could feel this woman so wonderfully smart – her gaze was soft but firm. When she opened his office door, she expected a girl sat on his lap like usual since his receptionist took a long time in the call. She guessed her brother was busy with someone.
She got her answer. And she liked Y/N already.
“Okay, I'll leave you two.” Y/N took his lunch box before she turned her heels, she threw a warm smile to Harry's sister. “Nice to meet you, Clementia.”
“You too, sist.”
“Oh, Y/N. I forget to return your clothes. Remind me tomorrow morning, yeah?” Harry said before Y/N opening his door.
“Why you don't just come to Harry's home tonight, Y/N? Mum would love to meet you.” Clementia spoke out of nowhere, “We will have dinner and you H, can return her clothes.”
Y/N stopped in her track while Harry was thinking. He would love the idea of Y/N meet his mother. Well, they've dated a few times, sharing kisses here and there. But...
“Sounds lovely. What do you think, Y/N?” He asked Y/N who was staring at the siblings dumbfounded. Meeting his mother? A woman who gave birth to this beautiful creature?
“I don't take a no. I'll let mum knows. Maybe I can take her shopping for dinner. Any food request? Do you have any special allergies, Y/N?” Clementia asked while typing in her phone, Y/N assumed that she's texting with their mother. “Thank you for the invitation, I would love to. But, I don't have any allergies.”
“Perfect then!” Clementia smiled, winking at her. Y/N nodded her head before heading out.
“So, tell me brother. How long have you been dating her? And why you didn't tell me first, at least?” Clementia asked him right away after Y/N closed his door.
“Why do you want to know?”
Clementia rolled her eyes, “It's not like I will threaten her or what. I just being overprotective to you, H. I know you're an adult. But, you were a kid when it's come from a relationships matter.”
“A kid?” Harry frowned, didn't expect himself being taught with a little girl in front of him. But, he was touched when Clementia admitted that she was protective to him.
“Looking back at your relationship history, you were the most heartbroken and disappointed one. I know you don't want to admit it. Just don't make the same mistake.” She said softly, “Okay, back to the question. Tell me about her! I have my own first impression of her but I want to hear from your perspective.”
“She's my assistant, honestly. Her office is next to me if you want to pay a visit.” Harry began, “I knew her for a few months because she's new here. If you really realise, she's the first normal woman I date. She's really nice, and kind. A smart young woman, and very independent of her own. She's beautiful, inside and out.”
Clementia nodded, watching her brother who was smiling himself. Sometimes chuckled on his own.
“What makes her attractive in your eyes. I know she's beautiful and smart, and.. polite.” She asked, “Honestly I was surprised to see her just sat casually beside you. Not trying to be seductive or sexy sitting on your.. thighs.”
“She respects me, and our jobs. She treats me as an ordinary person. She's hard to please, not easy to get.” He smiled, “I remembered one day I took her to have an ice cream date. Well, not really a date because I just told her so after that. The second time I wanted to ask her out, she told me to earn her before she said yes.”
“I was a little surprised because before she was really looking forward to our second date.” He added, shaking his head.
“And what you should earn?” Clementia asked in curiosity. Interested in his story.
“That part was a secret.” Harry grinned, make Clementia let out loud sigh. She didn't like her brother being too mysterious like that, yet she respects their privacy.
“I mean when you really like someone, yet you're confused about how to describe your feelings. Because, there are many things that make it hard for you to explain. Only you and your heart know those feeling.”
His sister nodded, didn't utter any words. But then she laughed when she saw Harry was smiling like an idiot. “I know you're happy, brother. But please don't smile like that.”
“I'm also confused why I can be this happy.” He shook his head, straighten up a bit.
“I guess because you haven't felt this way for a long time.” She hummed, “But I'm glad you're happy now. Just keep that happiness, H.”
Clementia went back to his penthouse after spending two hours in Harry's office. Harry was waiting in Y/N's office as she was getting ready to go. Madeleine has returned home so he didn't worry if anyone was suspicious of them, there was only the two of them here.
“I like your sister, she's such a goofball. But, I never saw her when I came to your home.” She said while stepping out of the lift, Harry's hand around her waist while her hand on his back. They know it was a bit risky if anyone saw them, but since they take the private exit, that was not that matter.
Yes, she was in his penthouse a few times, but she never saw Clementia. Was she busy admiring the luxury of his home? Every time she set foot in there, there was something always catches her attention. She even didn't remember if Harry had some pictures of his family.
“She's currently living in Milan for her study. That girl loves fashion design, so I kinda sent her there. Mum lives in Manchester, so I live alone here in London. It's always me or Suzanne.”
The parking lot was empty. His shiny black Porsche parked in his usual place, the one Y/N never seen in his private lot.
“Get in, darling.” Harry opened the passenger door, letting her climb in first. She grinned while thanking him, and let the door close. She pulled the safety belt over her when Harry climbed into the driver seat, ready to take her home.
The long drive to his home, Harry took Y/N her hands in his while another one stayed on the wheel. Sometimes he squeezed them to searching a comfort, or when he pissed with the traffic. Meanwhile, Y/N was having a thought about their relationship. It had been a few weeks, they constantly got out together if they had time –not always on the weekend. They talked, they laughed, they were holding hands, they hug, they kissed, but Harry hadn't dropped the question she was waiting for.
The car stopped when they reach the underground parking. He parked his car next to his other cars.
“Y/N, wait.” Harry put his hand over her clothed thigh, safety belt still wrapped their torso.
“Yes, Harry?” Her concerned eyes made his stomach churn. Actually, during the ride home, he thought to make their relationship official. Harry really, really liked her – all of her. The dates they'd had made him sure to take the next level. He just hoped that she also felt what he was feeling towards her right now.
Every time he looked at her, he could imagine someday he woke up next to her. Having breakfast together, or making dinner together.  Everything above could happen if.. if she would say yes.
“I know we've been going on dates in the past few weeks.” He stopped for a while, made her mind flying everywhere. Did he not want to continue this after tonight? Did he realise that she wasn't what he wanted all the time?
If she wanted to be honest, one day Y/N tried to search his name on Google and it didn’t surprise her there were many articles about Harry. What made her insecure was he dated or even hook up with a few popular models and A-list celebrities.
“This may sound a bit cliché, but it's hard to find the right words.” He chuckled, “I know we only knew each other not too long. Yet, every time I spend with you, every single second we have together – you make me more human, and alive than before. I'm better human when I'm with you. I really love that feeling.” Harry scratched his neck, look nervous than before. His voice deeper in each word. His hand squeezing her thighs, he looked her right in the eyes. “I really, really like you. And I love the idea you're being my girlfriend. I'm excited about what futures may hold. I don't ask you just because we want to meet my mum, no. I think this is the right time for me to be honest with you. It's been weeks and I can't hold any longer.” He let out  a relieved sigh, “And I'm mean it.”
After the sentences were spoken, Y/N didn't wait any more to grab his face and kissed him softly. Harry's hand wilding to her jaw, kissed her back tenderly.
“I love the idea of being your girlfriend too, Harry.” She whispered in his ear, making his skin itching in happiness. He smiled, “Good, now you're stuck with me.” and kissed her again. Their kissed getting more intense, Harry's hand eager to unlock her safety belt, feeling that thing held them back.
“Harry, Harry. Your mum and sister waiting for us.” She laughed while pushing Harry's torso softly. He just hummed an okay. She turned the dome light on, looking at her messy appearance in the rear-view mirror. She dug into her bag, finding her lipstick. Harry's hand stopped her when she wanted to apply to her lips.
“Let me.” He picked it and carefully applying the colour on his girlfriend's lips. Whoa, he liked the sound of it. His girlfriend...
Y/N waited patiently, while her eyes stole a glance at Harry. Her man looked so handsome when he was focused on something, but her attention was diverted to his nails that painted with pink glitter.
“That's pretty.” Harry muttered, placing the lipstick back to her palms. Y/N took a look at the mirror, shocking Harry did the job well. No wonder his nails always covered in colours neatly, “Thank you.”
“Mhm, c'mon darling.”
Harry climbed out first before opening the door for her. A small gesture that always made her smile. His hand led her in. The doorman bid them welcome with a warm smile.
“Your hands are shaking.” Harry said while the lift took them up, his right hand wrapped on Y/N's left, tucked them in his pocket. “Don't be nervous, it's just casual dinner.”
“And we're meeting your mum.” She muttered, waiting anxiously to lift stopped. Harry just smirked while squeezing her hand, “She doesn't bite, darling. Just breath.. nice and easy.”
Meanwhile, Clementia and Anne were preparing dinner. Yes, Clementia wasn't really good at cooking, but she could help Anne a little bit. And she was so excited. She didn't stop blabbering while helping her mother.
“You know, mum? I never expect Harry would go for his assistant.”
Anne frowned, wiping her wet hands. “And why about it?”
“No offence. But I kinda happy that he's no longer dating those boring models, you know? Yes, I love to talk about fashion and things but.. it would be more fun if you have a conversation with an educated woman.” She shrugged, picking a grape from its stems and bite it.
“And now you're saying your brother's ex-girlfriends aren't educated?” Anne stared at his daughter with squinting eyes, “Clementia you can't –”
“Mum!” She cried, “It's not what I mean. I secretly searched for her profile on the internet. Not much I got, sure since she's not famous, but what's surprising is.. she was representative of King College for United Nation Youth Forum! Imagine how smart she is.”
“At least you now have motivation for your studies.” Anne laughed, “But, that's creepy you were stalking her profile.”
“I know.” She sighed, “But it's not for bad things, I promise.”
Anne bit her lip, “But does he look happy?”
“I've never seen Harry so happy before. Have you ever seen Harry was smiling alone like a fool?”
“No.”
“Exactly!” Clementia snapped her fingers, looking at Anne. “We will see.”
Y/N never imagined she would be panicking like this, she tried to calm herself down, but she couldn't. Sure meeting your boyfriend's parent was something nerve-wrecker, let alone the relationship just started. What she would think of you? Did you worthily enough for him? Did you fit enough in his life? Y/N thought she would pass out right away if she thought too much about it. She didn't realise they were standing in front of his door already.
“Here they are!” Clementia squealed while she opened the door for them and quickly gave Y/N a hug.
“You must be cooked something special. Its smell delicious from here.” Y/N said warmly.
“Mum made Curry, Shepherd’s Pie, and something still in the cooking.” Clementia answered while winking at Harry. She closed the door as Harry led his girlfriend to the kitchen, finding her mum stirring the pot.
“Hey, mum.” Harry kissed Anne's cheek, “Where's Suzanne?”
“Hi, sweetheart. I let her go home early because I was the one who cooking tonight.” She pinched Harry's cheek playfully, making him groan in annoyed. Y/N just smile watching both of them, reminded her of her mother.
“Hi, dear! I'm Anne, Harry's mother. You must be, Y/N?” She never expected Harry's mother would hug her like they had known each other for a long time. She happily embraces Anne into her arm, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”
“Oh, shush! Call me Anne.” She smiled gently, “Take a seat. Dinner is ready.”
As usual, Harry took his seat on the edge. Y/N sat next to Clementia since she assumed Anne would take the seat next to her son. But, being the cheeky she was, Clementia shooed her away and said that Anne bored enough sitting next to her brother.
“Clementia said she met you at Harry's office, Y/N.” Anne started the conversation when she saw everyone enjoy her cooking.
“Mhm, I work for Harry – just moved from Swansea office.”
“She's my assistant, mum. The smartest one I've ever had if I may say.” Harry added, bobbing his head.  Anne just nodded, “That's surprising.”
That one made Y/N's stomach twist. Was that negative? Or the opposite? She knew that an employee dating their boss was.. weird, and breaking the company rules. Seemed not unprofessional at all. But, when they were at work, they work like usual.. a boss and employee, nothing romance included. They were careful enough when they were together. Her inner goddess told Y/N she should have asked Harry about that thing.
“Not in a bad way, of course.” Anne said when she saw Y/N's face turned slightly uncomfortable. “Tell me, how's work with Harry? He's didn't put you on stress, no?
“Harry is nice. Help me a lot, and a perfectly hard worker. Sometimes we had to stay late in the office, but he made sure that I didn't overwork. We have a lot of work to be done in 24 hours, we help each other to finish on time.”
“She always patient with me. I think her days in college taught her extra patience.” Harry smiled, his hand sneaking down the table, rubbing her thigh in assurance. He could feel her hand on top him. Within a few inches, Anne saw them smiling at each other. Their own eyes speak reassurance. She clearly saw from her son eye's, he was clearly adoring the girl next to her. Something that she hadn't seen for a while.
“Whoa, you were a college girl? Tell me, how did you survive? I just start my semester, but I feel like I just wanna run away.” Clementia asked in awe, maybe Y/N could encourage her sometimes lazy mind to fight with her course. Y/N laughed, definitely understand with her frustration, there were times when she cried all day because she feels overwhelmed over her assignments. “That time I just thought.. don't waste my full scholarship, I was struggling enough to get into Kings' College. My parents are waiting for me to come back home with that degree.”
“King's College? so... she's smart.. smart.” Clementia beamed. Anne playfully jabs her side, “Take a note from her, don't disappoint your brother.”
“I heard you're studying in Milan? How's it there? I really want to visit Italy one day.” She asked softly, staring at Clementia who was grinning widely, “Italy is.. something else. Italy is more romantic than France, no offence! Florence and Positano are my top picks, and Sicily too.”
“Maybe we could visit you someday, C. And having a family holiday.” Harry said as he faced down his cutlery, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Anne nodded in agreement, they haven't spent time together outside for a long time, “You should take a schedule off, dear. Before you visit Clementia, try to visit your mother, bring Y/N too. Manchester is not so far from London.”
“Oh, mum..” Harry chuckled, his eyes stared lovingly to his mother. “Don't make me feel bad.”
“Hey, Y/N. Could you do me a favour to persuade him to visit me often? I believe he would hear you over me.”  She winked, ignoring Harry's pleading eyes.
“I'll try my best.” Y/N smiled, giving Harry side-eye.
Dinner was fun. They most likely talked about each other life. Y/N just learnt that Anne had Harry when she was twenty-two, and Clementia is eighteen now. Their father, Igor Styles, sadly passed away two day after Harry's master graduation ceremony due to heart attack – leaving them with growing companies to take care of. Since then, Harry took over his father's companies and work his ass off.
Harry was smiling so hard when his favourites women, his mum, his girlfriend, his sister, could get along quickly. Clementia made him surprised because the girl was so welcome to Y/N. She was usually quite hard to warm to his girlfriends before.
The way her son hold his lady, Anne knew that he was so smitten. She understood that Harry wanted to spend time alone with Y/N because from what she had heard, they often had to rearrange their date because of sudden upcoming work.
She wouldn't be mad because right now Harry prefers to cuddle with other women than her, because Anne would always have Harry by her side no matter what. She just hoped his son would find his final lover soon.
This new Harry was not the same as the old Harry. Anne was used to be met two different women in his arms in a span of three months. And that made her worry.
Harry was an adult, he made his choice and Anne couldn’t do much. She just gave him her advice here and there, especially for settling down.
In Y/N, she believed – but not too much.
From the way she talked, the way she laughed over unfunny jokes that Harry made, the way she’s spoken out about her perspective – her vision. Anne could trusted her.
Earlier simple gestured that the girl showed, she collected all dirty plates and cutlery not worrying about dirty and wet food waste – some women Harry used to date found it gross and refused to cleanse– well all of them were spoiled brat rich people – Anne called. At least she knew Y/N was familiar with housework. Not to forget she was smart enough from the way she responded about the current happening global issues.
She wanted her son to find a modest woman and not using him for their personal advantage. She preferred Harry with someone who was regular than the famous one yet she couldn’t do anything but waste his money.
Anne clearly heard their loud laughter even they were in the balcony. Not knowing what they laughed about. She just prayed she could always hear that from both of them.
“Harry looks happy.” Clementia leaned on the countertop, watching his brother tickling Y/N. “I don’t know this could turn into their date.”
“Let them be, C. I barely see your brother laughing out load.” Anne snickered, “Have you taken her clothes? Harry was asking you, wasn’t he?”
“Haven’t yet, I don’t know where he put it in his room. I wanted to ask, but I don’t want to bother them.”
“Let me dig his wardrobe then.”
Anne opens his son's bedroom – looking at all grey-brown theme. His bedroom smells like Tonka bean and Cedarwood. She could identify Y/N's folded clothes on his bed, who else if it's not hers. Anne grinned when she found a photograph of her family in his wall. She spotted a few medicine bottles on the nightstand. Her curiosity mind pushed her to take it, reading every label carefully. Harry didn't tell her he was on medication.
Prozac.
She was not familiar with the names. Might be common vitamins. So, she didn't take it seriously.
“Here's your clothes, Y/N. Don't be surprised if it smells like Harry.” Anne handed Y/N's clothes in a paper bag, giving Harry a wink.
“Thank you.” Y/N beamed, “I should go home now. Thank you for your delicious meals, Anne. Maybe one day I will ask you some food recipes if you don't mind of course.”
“I just one phone call away, dear.” She nodded, “Why don't you just stay the night, Y/N? It's already late, and tomorrow it's Saturday.”
“Oh, I don't want to bother you guys. I'm fine.” Y/N politely declined, didn't want to overstay her welcome. After all, she didn't want to bother their family time.
“That's a good idea, honestly. We don't have any urgent tasks to be done over the weekend. You can stay here until Sunday too if you want.” Harry agreed, the idea of his girlfriend stayed the night was quite exciting to him.
“Oh no, really. I'm fine– ”
“This time I don't take a no. I'll show your room, yeah?  Harry squeaked, taking her hand. “Or, do you wanna sleep with me in my bedroom?” He asked cheekily.
Y/N widened her eyes, “Harry! I didn’t even bring any stuff to stay overnight.”
“We insist, darling. Besides, I think we have spare toiletries. You can wear Clementia's clothes. ” Anne chuckled, “If you want to stay with Harry, just don't make loud noises in the middle night.” She winked, leaving them both. “Oh! I'll bring you her sleepwear.”
“Oh my god.” Y/N grimaced, squinting her eyes. She was sure her cheeks getting red now.
“Hey, don't listen to her. She's joking.” Harry took her to his embrace, kissing her shoulder. “I'll take you to your room.”
Her room for the night no less spectacular than the other room she ever saw, the space was even almost equal to her whole apartment. While Anne and Clementia took rooms in the hall facing the Thames, her room, which next to Harry was in the other hall facing skyscraper building.
“I don't know if you want to stay with me or not, but I give you your own space. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” He said softly.
“Okay, thank you for letting me stay, H.” She smiled. Before she got the chance to bid him good night, he brought her face closer, kissing her lips dearly. She giggled, tangling his curls in her fingers.
“Good night, sleep well sweetheart.” Harry poked her nose softly, and disappear behind his door.
. . . .
His chest ache, while his body wet with sweat. The air conditioner apparently didn't succeed in making him cool, he kept moving in his sleep.
“Y/N.” He moaned, eyes squinting in pleasure and.. pain. His panting breath filled his room, “Oh my god, fuck.”
“Y/N –darling, baby.” Harry groaned, face dripping with sweat. In split seconds, his eyes shot open. Looking around his room, his hand patted the vacant side next to him. He sighed when he didn't find Y/N laying there. Rubbing his face, he chuckled in to realise that was just his fantasy. In his dream, they were having sex somewhere in Italy. He pounded hard into her while sun setting behind them.
He laughed, how the hell he had a wet dream about his one day girlfriend?
Looking at the clock, it was past two in the night. He decided to clean his self, taking a glass of water, and go back to bed.
His sleepiness disappeared after he washed his face, but how shocked he was when he saw Marcel in his bathroom mirror. Grinning evilly.
“How fun to dream about your girlfriend, well she managed to make you orgasm like that.”
“What do you want, Marcel? I have my family and her over, don't make a scene.”
“I was wondering.. did she hear you? She's sleeping in the next room, isn't she?” He scoffed, “I could just sneak into her room and have sex with her, you know?”
“Don't, Marcel.” Harry gritted his teeth, hands balled.
“How's she feels? Bet she's sweet, dripping like honey. Just imagine, she screams my name instead of you.”
Harry couldn't contain it anymore, his fist punched the mirror making a loud noise along with broken pieces fell to the floor. Marcel disappeared, with his blood pouring from his fist. Little did he know, Anne jolted from her sleep when the sound of broken glass ringing through her ear.
Harry rushed out of his room, then opened Y/N's door – relieved to find that she was still deep asleep, surely not hearing that sounds. Yet, Anne standing in the hall made him frowned. His bloody fist tucked behind his back.
“Mum? Why are you up?” He asked warily.
“I heard something shattered. What happened, Harry?” She asked him back curiously. Her son shook his head, but the way blood dripping to the floor made her sprint towards him. She gasped when looking at Harry's knuckles. “What are you doing? What happened? Why is your hand bleeding like this?”
“I accidentally broke a glass because.. I was half asleep when I went to the bathroom, and.. my reflection made me shock.” Harry scratched his neck with his clean hand, no matter how badly he wanted to lie, Harry could never lie to his mother.
“You clumsy little thing, making me worry.” Anne sighed, “Let me clean your hand.”
“I'm sorry to wake you up.” He mumbled, slightly grimace as Anne patting his knuckles with antiseptic.
“No need to be sorry, darling. It's okay.”
Harry whispered small thank you after his mother bandaged his wounds. Anne smiled sadly, sometimes forgot that her son had grown up, blaming that time flies so fast. Even his physique changes –blossoming into a beautiful man– he was still her baby.
“Harry?”
“Mhm?”
Before she asked him something that bothered her, was it appropriate to ask him? That was his privacy, but she was his mother after all. “I see some medicinal bottles in your room, the names aren't common for vitamins. Are you currently on a particular medication?”
He was speechless, didn't know how to react. He hadn't thought that he was so careless to put the medicines. What should he do? . . Please excuse some errors.
65 notes · View notes
Text
The titles are in, and it’s time to vote!
First of all, thank you to everyone who sent in questions- those were a lot of fun to ask. I love when you guys ask hard ones and these were not easy! I quite enjoyed them! 
And to everyone that sent in a title (or several) for this little game, thank you guys too! This was a lot of fun and some of these submissions sparked some very interesting thoughts... while there are others that I am crossing my fingers do not get chosen. Yikes. 
I ended up with 16 potential ideas from the titles that you gave me, and I’ve decided to write a three-part miniseries for each of the the top three. But I don’t want to write three stories about the same character, so to narrow things down, there will be two rounds of voting. 
The first round starts NOW and ends on WEDNESDAY (10/21). Choose your favorite title in each character category. The title with the most votes for each character will move on to the second round. You can vote by commenting on this post, or sending an ask (just not on anon for this please!) Please vote using the numbers assigned to each title per character. I’ll tally up all the votes on Wednesday, and we’ll buckle up for round two.  
So here they are folks, pick your poison for each character please. choose carefully there are landmines :
Billy 
1- Whispers in the Dark 
Quick Summary: Billy counts on an old friend when he’s got nowhere else to go; someone he helped a long time ago and the only person he thinks might actually help him now. 
My thoughts: This has been hiding on my masterlist for far too long. If i’m being honest, the idea scares me a little. It’s not my top choice to write right now for this event, because the way that I want to write it will make it far longer than three parts and I do not want to short change it. 
Fun fact: this one will not be reader insert.
2- Damned if I Do
Quick Summary: How do you make a choice when you know that no matter what you choose there is no way for you to win? You try like hell to find a third option, and you hope beyond reason that it won’t be even worse. 
My thoughts: I really like this one. Like, a lot. My first instinct was to shy away from Billy for this. I actually first saw it being used with a Benjamin or Logan story. But then I was like bitch don’t do that to Billy. So here we are. 
Fun fact: If you like stealth suit Billy this is the one for you. 
3- Ace of Spades
Quick Summary: Billy doesn’t take threats lightly- especially when they’re about the thing he cares about most- Anvil. 
My thoughts: Writing cut-throat, ruthless Anvil CEO Billy is always fun. Especially when he gets to get his hands dirty, too. I’d rank this one as my second favorite out of the three. 
Fun fact: This would be all Billy. Sorry, reader, you’re not in it, nor are any OC love interests. 
Logan
1-Dressed for Revenge
Quick Summary: In this one, Juliet listens to Logan and doesn’t marry William. His true colors come to light and he’s kicked to the curb real quick. Logan heals up and takes a special trip back to the park. 
My thoughts: I think this has the potential to be quite fun… or at least it could start that way. It also has the potential to be serious. 
Fun fact: While I need a new Logan like I need a hole in the head, this would not be connected to any current stories.
2- Nice and Spice(d) 
Quick Summary: Logan Delos in a fancy suit. Spiced Holiday beverages. Mayhem. Definitely not the recipe for how to make the nice list… but who really cares amiright? 
My thoughts: Cocky, happy, healthy Logan at the Delos Holiday party. Yes please. This one is tied to SYiNY but a few years in the future. 
Fun Fact: There’s another midnight kiss and this one won’t leave anyone wanting. Also I really like writing winter in the desert.    
3- Sleep in the Fire
Quick Summary: Logan examines his relationship with his father and decides to give him one last chance to make amends for nearly 35 years of being cold, uncaring and absent. But does he really think Jim will show change? Does he even want him to? 
My thoughts: This one will hurt but probably not as bad as it could if that makes you feel any better. This one is a tie-in to Core Drive. 
Fun Fact: There isn’t one. 
Ryan
1-Arms of a Stranger 
Quick Summary: Hindsight always reveals things that we let hide just under the surface, doesn’t it? A closer look back at the biggest heartbreak of Ryan Brenner’s life...and how he gets through it. 
My thoughts: This makes my stomach squirm a little but I also really like the idea. I like writing about Ryan at different points of his life and thinking about how his experiences may have shaped him into who we know him to be. But I don’t like putting him through pain so there’s also that… But I do really want to write about Chloe again...but… 
Fun Fact: There’s at least one instance of a shirtless Ryan Brenner laying in the light of a stained glass sun catcher. 
2- What’s New Pussycat? 
Quick Summary: Ryan gets a job as a dishwasher for a few weeks at a retro diner where they play A LOT of the same songs and the french fries are somehow both oily and burnt… the upside? The friendly waitress who seems to know quite a lot about good music. 
My thoughts: At first I had no idea what to do with this title and it cycled through almost every character here. But I like where I landed with it. 
Fun fact: Still undecided if this will be connected to Passing Through Ryan. 
3- The Pierogi Incident 
Quick Summary: Cousin chaos. And Polish dumplings. And first impressions. Oh my. Remember that trip to Georgia, when Ryan kissed you in the ocean while his cousins teased him? More of that. But with food. 
My thoughts: It’s no surprise that I love writing about the cousins. This one is tied for the number 1 Ryan spot. 
Fun Fact: Aunt Holly isn’t the only one in Ryan’s family who can cook… and there are certainly some who shouldn’t. 
4- Swipe for Love
Quick Summary: After Ryan breaks things off with Jackie and leaves Utah, he starts getting strange texts only to find out that Lia has set him up with an online dating profile. (Look, even she can see that her mom doesn’t deserve Ryan) Ryan is just about to take it down, when something sparks his interest. 
My thoughts: you guys please don’t make me write awkward dating app interactions…
Fun fact: I honestly do not know how I would write this with any semblance of a straight face. 
Benjamin
1- The Blighted Violin 
Quick Summary: Remember that time Keiran just came for breakfast and to talk about young Seanjamin? And he mentioned that Benj was always writing stories? This is a look at one of B’s masterworks. 
My thoughts: Gonna be straight with you guys- even if this doesn’t get picked it's getting written eventually.  
Fun fact: Young Seanjamin was super dramatic. 
2- The Jilted Tourist
Quick Summary: Benjamin meets a young woman at a train station who has just had a fight with her boyfriend, whom she came to England to visit only to find him...visiting someone else. Benjamin, of course, is friendly and lends an ear while he waits for his train… and then the two go their separate ways. Simple...right?
My thoughts: Julia is a jealous fuckface. 
Fun Fact: Julia is also a big old meanie. 
3- Monsters
Quick Summary: Allie. Julia. Back to back blowups, and Benjamin is absolutely hell bent on not making it three in a row. He either needs to figure out what he needs to change, or get used to being alone again. 
My thoughts: I see this as sort of a precursor to TGTBT Benjamin and while it definitely wouldn’t be fun, it would explain why he’s more ready to be in a relationship with reader than he’s ever been before. 
Fun Fact: This involves a lot of yelling. And crying. And cursing. And throwing things. 
4- Let you Know
Quick Summary: A series of phone calls from different points of Benjamin’s life replay in his head, none of them pleasant. Until one day they don’t. 
My thoughts: Oh, Benj… if this one wins I’m sorry… but I’m also not. 
Fun Fact: Panicked Benjamin is not at all my favorite thing to write. 
Caspian
1- In A Grain of Sand
Quick Summary: Just a grain of sand is all it takes to tip a scale. A single grain slipping through an hourglass starts a countdown, or ends one. One grain at a time, the winds shift the desert landscape into something unrecognizable. 
My thoughts: Not my most fully fleshed out idea up here. Still a lot of plot to figure out for this one to be possible 
Fun fact: this one would feature a suntanned and sweaty king. 
2- The Last Dream
Quick Summary: How much of your last dream do you remember? And what would happen if it were to come true? 
My thoughts: My most far fetched idea yet? Maybe. 
Fun fact: Caspian has very vivid dreams. 
..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  
So there they are in all their unwritten glory. I can’t wait to see which three I’ll be writing! 
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simplysoriya · 4 years
Note
I) 2 things they really enjoy.J) 2 things they’re not really fond of.
The young monk snickered at the symmetry of the question, “Balance. I dig your style.”
“Ugh, I’m not going to lie, I hate these sort of questions. I enjoy a lot of things. I feel like sometimes I’m just grabbing in a hat and picking something random like a sunset.”
“Speaking of sunsets, in the weird way my mind works, I guess one of the bigger ones is surfing. I’m not sure who actually came up with it first, but Trolls tend to talk like it was them. Can’t really blame them either, it does seem to be true.”
“There’s a lot to enjoy about it for me. It’s just sort of chill and exhilarating all at the same time. Sometimes you go out on a nice day and just sit under the sun, among the waves, moving with the tide as it bops you up and down. Sometimes you have a great time and don’t even catch a single wave. Other times there are ones so big it feels like you’re in a water tunnel that’s both forming itself and breaking at the same time. Like it’s about to swallow you up whole... Which is super cool. Definitely a favorite. You can even use the waves sorta like ramps if you get enough speed. It’s kind of like you’re flying for a minute, but you don’t have to worry about the landing or anything- usually.”
“Uhhhhm....” Soriya sifted through the excess of things she enjoyed. Before long a lightbulb popped above her head as she seemed to find a sufficient answer. “I really like Pandarian cooking too. It’s like the definition of comfort food. I remember the early days in my training when I would drink with the brewmasters. I promise that you do not know pain until the day after spending the night drinking with those Ox folk. I would have probably literally died from training with a hangover like that but a couple of the locals looped me in on the secret. They have this recipe for a thing called pho that comes from one of the island provinces and I don’t know what they put in it but I swear it’s the perfect hangover cure. And pretty delicious to boot.”
“I mean, miracle cures aside, I don’t think I’ve really had anything on the panadian cuisine menu that I didn’t like. Every thing’s super good. I guess because they were isolated for so long all they’ve had is local spices and stuff like that. I think they really perfected some of the dishes down there because of it.”
“I recommend the shrimp fried dumplings if you ever find yourself out at Dawns Blossom in the Jade Forest. One of my faves.”
“And now the hard part.” Soriya spoke in a low tone to herself as she mulled over things that she didn’t quite like so much.
“I don’t want to get political. I know this is a hot button issue for a lot of people, and there are a lot of conflicting views, as well as wounds old and new but... I hate war. I hate that half of everyone in the world might potentially want to kill me because of what banner they might think I fly. I hate that it seems non-stop, and instead of ever preventing the loss of life or making even a -little- bit of anything better... it always just makes everything worse. It makes people hurt. And maybe there are good justifications for some things but... in the end it’s usually just revenge that only ends up hurting more people. Creating more wounds. More vendettas. It feels like it never ends. Like it’s a machine that feeds on every ones suffering and hatred. It’s just... designed to take. Never to give. I wish more people would realize that.”
“I’m also not a really big fan of spiders but that’s more so because they freak me out. Well... actually now that I think about it the bigger ones probably have killed a bunch of people so I guess that’s a fair reason not to like them. But like... it’s definitely because they’re icky. Don’t let me make false justifications.”
{Thanks @zeehva !}
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apex-academy · 4 years
Text
Chapter 4: Six Chambers, One Loaded (#22)
Nothing of consequence happens until 4:30 the next day. Can’t believe I almost forgot to tell Aki we were doing this.
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Some generic kitchen implements have been set out, but it doesn’t give me much of a hint. Yuki gestures to a drawer with aprons, so I take one. And...
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I can barely even figure out how to put on a stupid apron. Not a good sign.
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“It’s just the two of you, right...?”
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“Yeah. I'm fine with someone else joining if they want, but...”
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“...just the two of us might be enough work for you.”
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“Yeah, I really have no idea what I’m doing.”
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“That’s okay...! As long as we have fun, hummm...”
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“...and don’t waste a lot of food...”
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“...and have something ready to eat for supper.”
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The pressure is mounting.
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“Did you have any requests...? I thought Italian might sound good...”
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“That’s fine.”
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“Uh, Kakumi? Is that fine?”
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“Yeah.” Noodles have to be the safest place to start, I’d think. I have only set those on fire once.
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“Okay...”
She just stands there for a minute. Guess she’s not used to splitting up the work. Hopefully we don’t throw her off too much.
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“Um...! Aki, if you could find some pasta flour...” She glances between me and a high cupboard. “I’ll get the... mixing bowl and things. So Kakumi, you bring the eggs over, hummm...”
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“Got it.”
Eggs. Awesome. I make no promises for any further steps in the recipe, but I can handle transporting things.
She didn’t say how many, but it’s safest to bring the whole carton over, anyway. There are only four left in here, so hopefully it’ll do. Aki goes through several varieties of flour I’ve literally never heard of before finding the right kind. 
Yuki doesn’t seem frustrated by our struggling, but she hardly ever seems anything but tired. Either way, she sends us to grab some other stuff as she picks out some spices and some blackish liquid umami something. Not sure if I trust that, but I’m not one to backtalk my teachers. Especially teachers with national and/or international recognition for their craft.
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“For anything like this, you’ll start with the noodles, or... noodle-y... things...?”
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“Since if you’re making them yourself... you’ll have to let them cool a while.”
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“So you might as well use that time to make whatever you’re putting on it.”
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“Umm-hummm...”
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“So...”
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“...”
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“...”
...She’s really not used to teaching, is she. Oh well. I don’t have anything better to do, and maybe it’ll be fun. Eventually.
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“Um, okay... It probably won’t take long, but... Aki, you can go ahead and start measuring out and mixing the dry part... Kakumi, I’ll let you beat the eggs... Three should be good, I think... Hummmm...”
She slides me a clear bowl and goes over to help Aki with the measuring cups.
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Beat...? “What does that even mean.” Is it just chef-speak for mixing. Is it supposed to be extra violent. Help.
I don’t think I’m getting hold of her anytime soon, but whatever I’m doing, I’ll at least need to crack the eggs first. Let’s do that, then. Yeah. Great.
I grab egg number one and sidestep to the bowl. 
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“...Okay.”
I whap it against the bowl’s edge. A faint clink. No cracking.
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“Okay.”
Second try. I at least get a vague little indent on the shell. Oooo-kay. You would think a star pool player would know how hard she has to hit things, but apparently my skills are not so easily translated.
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“Okay...”
Attempt three. No discernible change. Four—finally a split halfway around the thing. A few flakes drift into the bowl. I hastily blow them out before prying the egg open and dumping the contents. Okay, that’s... one-third of this step done. Hoo boy.
Aki’s already measuring out the flour, so it’s probably too late to switch. It’s fine. I can figure this out. Maybe.
The second egg cracks with much less fanfare, but a few bits of eggshell fall in when the yolk glorps into the bowl.
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“...”
Am I allowed to dig that out with my fingers or is there a special eggshell tool. Uh. Well, my hands are clean, so... 
I chase the fragments around until my hands are no longer clean, but I think I get them all. I rinse off my fingers and double back. Yuki’s explaining the seasonings to Aki. Not sure if I’m supposed to be listening, too, but I should probably stay focused on this for all our safety.
Okay. Egg number three. Last one.
I swipe an egg from the carton and rap it on the bowl’s edge.
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The shattered pieces and slime narrowly miss my shirtsleeve as they smear the outside of the bowl and plop onto the counter.
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“...”
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“.....”
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“..........”
The others haven’t noticed, so, uh, time to destroy the evidence. I grab the closest dish towel and scoop up all the mess I can, scrubbing the side of the bowl with some clean corner of the thing that I have to maneuver a lot to actually use. Then—what do I do with the towel? Burn it? That’d get rid of it. Probably still a bad idea. I chuck the thing in a reasonably empty drawer and resolve to deal with that once we’re done.
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“...go ahead and get some plastic wrap... Okay?”
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“Okay...”
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I’m still clear. Moving on, then.
There’s still an egg in the carton, so I take that and rotate it slowly in my hand. Last one. Any chance Monochap will restock them while we’re all standing here? Wouldn’t count on it. I’m sure I’d wreck the whole recipe if I only used two eggs and change, so... Okay. No pressure. Just have to not make any mistakes doing something I’m terrible at. Yeah.
I resume the gentlest possible rapping.
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“Kakumi, have you...”
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“...Oh.”
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“I’m... slow, okay?” 
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“Do you want to do this?”
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“Humm... I can go ahead, I guess...”
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“You should pay attention, though...”
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“I will! Thanks.”
I hand off the egg as Aki steps over.
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“Having fun?”
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“I guess? So far I’ve only stirred flour and seasoning together...”
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“It at least feels productive, maybe...?”
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“Yeah.” 
Really hope I don’t ruin that by screwing up my share of things. I’m sure Yuki could salvage any number of kitchen disasters, though. Just... gotta hang in there. And pay attention. Yeah.
Apparently forks are how you beat eggs. Was not expecting that for some reason. Well, at least I’m learning.
We finally mix everything up with the liquid seasoning, and Aki gets the flour out again to keep everything from sticking to the counter. Yuki demonstrates kneading, and we all take turns. I don’t think I’m doing very well. It’s hard to gauge Yuki’s expression. 
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Maybe I’ll just let Aki do most of this. Those arm warmers covering half of her hands seem to give her a little trouble, but she's still a better bet than me.
The pasta gets spread out and sealed off and tossed in the fridge. Next I get to chop up some mushrooms, which I still do a sloppy job of, but it’s better than asking me to fry them. Hopefully Aki is less skilled than me at setting pans on fire. I’ll still stand back. Yuki may be soft-spoken, but I can hear her explanations fine from over here, thanks. 
Aki tentatively nudges the pan around on the stove.
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“Ack!”
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“You okay?”
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“Y-yeah?”
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“Oh, sometimes you get hit with a little oil... It’s not a big deal...”
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“Hummmmmm... It didn’t get you in the face, did it?”
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“Um, no... I think I’m good.”
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“Okay... Kakumi, you have the cheese, right...?”
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“Yup.”
And off we go. Aki doesn’t seem particularly flinchy, so I guess it’s all good. The mushrooms get set aside to cool, then we get to cut up the pasta, then we get to fill it. By “fill it,” I mean repeatedly put too much in and rip the pasta open whenever I close it up. Awesome. 
Thankfully I don’t have any strange deficiencies in the ability to boil water, and we manage not to burn ourselves again getting these things cooked. Stirring up the sauce doesn’t hurt, either, though we let Yuki drizzle it in a more artistic fashion than I’m sure either of us could manage.
And finally...
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Ta-da.
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“Nothing too fancy... But it was an easy one, I think.”
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“Fancier than anything else I’ve made.”
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“Yeah.” I wouldn’t feel right saying I made this, though.
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“Whoever wants to start eating can go ahead... I’m going to clean up.”
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...Oh yeah, cleaning. I still have to deal with that washrag. Hopefully she won’t find it first.
Aki nods at me.
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“Um, you can go ahead... Unless you don’t want to. Sorry.”
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“No, I’m hungry enough. I just, uh, hate to break up the nice picture...”
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“I get that a lot, hummmm...”
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“But it’s okay! Food is meant to be eaten...”
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“Right.”
I eye that one cabinet as she resumes cleaning. I could always volunteer to help, and maybe then I can get rid of the towel... No, I need to start eating. Aki could easily be hungrier than I am.
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“All right, here goes.”
I snatch a dumpling—or ravioli, whatever—and chomp down. I’m met with the electrifying visceral pain of biting into eggshell.  I almost reflexively spit the thing out.
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“...”
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“I-it’s good! Just... ‘s still hot.” Technically not a lie. I just hope this is the only ravioli I screwed up.
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Remind me not to try murdering anybody. I can’t even cover my tracks when the crime is “general kitchen disaster.”
Aki and I settle to eat in a corner of the kitchen. I probably need to pay more attention to Yuki’s next lecture on flavorings. This taste seems weird, but that’s probably just my personal preference. If I ever make this again, I’d have to switch something with... something else.
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...And get someone else to crack the eggs.
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caffeineivore · 5 years
Text
Commission#4
For @vchanny-og
Prompt: Makoto teaches the girls to cook. To commission me please click here for information! To see what other people are offering up commissions please see here!
The recipe for peanut butter cookies is fool-proof, three-ingredients. Four, if you added chocolate chips. The first time that Makoto had made them, Usagi had eaten two dozen by herself, and when she’d found out how easy they were, she’d begged and whined and pouted until Makoto had agreed to teach her. 
“Mamo-chan would love these, don’t you think? Especially if we add chocolate! And peanut butter is healthy and has lots of protein so he wouldn’t even disapprove!”
Eggs. Crunchy peanut butter. Sugar. Chocolate chips. Parchment-lined baking sheet for 11 minutes at 170 degrees Celsius. 
Makoto lines up all the ingredients on the counter, helpfully preheats the oven to the correct temperature. She goes out to her balcony to check on her plants, and is halfway through dead-heading some leggy basil when the smell of smoke comes wafting through the open door. Thoroughly alarmed, she drops her clippings and runs in, yanks the oven open to find lumps of what look to be charcoal. Usagi’s wail could pass for a fire engine careening onto the scene complete with lights and sirens. 
“I don’t know what happened, Mako-chan! I didn’t do anything except what you asked, and now everything is ruined and there are NO COOKIES and you are probably going to be mad at me!”
With a long, windy sigh, Makoto checks the counter. Peanut butter, check. Sugar, check. Chocolate chips, check-- and if she’s not mistaken, Usagi dumped in about half a cup more than the recipe called for. A bowl of cracked open eggs, yolks almost mockingly bright orange, winked up at her. 
Makoto shakes her head, sends Usagi out to the bakery, and cuts up some peppers and tomatoes, retrieves her snipped basil. It seemed like she’d be having omelettes for dinner. 
**
“So we sear the steak at a high temperature in a cast-iron skillet to take advantage of the Maillard reaction for the sake of optimal flavour.” Ami scribbles some type of complex chemical molecule diagram on the margins of the recipe that she’d meticulously copied from Makoto’s cookbook, and does a few equations, and murmurs to herself. “I suppose that makes sense. The temperature of the cooking surface will exceed 140 degrees Celsius, which will cause the reactive carbonyl group of the sugar present in the molecule interact with the nucleophilic amino group of the amino acid.”
“Yeah. Something like that. And then you finish in a low and slow oven so you don’t overcook the meat. This is an expensive cut of steak-- you don’t want it to be cooked to death.”
Makoto did not care over-much about the complex chemical reactions and science behind the process-- it was enough, really, to know that as long as one controlled the temperature and time, and seasoned the pricey cut of beef simply but well (sea salt, coarse-ground pepper and a few sprigs of rosemary), one could have a fancy date night meal in the comfort of one’s own home. “Medium rare is the optimal doneness for steak, in my opinion. Use a food thermometer, cook it to 54 degrees Celsius, then rest for three minutes before slicing, and you’re good to go.”
“I understand the reasoning behind safe internal cooking temperatures,” Ami muses as she follows Makoto’s lead, carefully wiping down the cherry-red surface of her steak with a paper towel to dry it, then sprinkling on salt and pepper on both sides. “Obviously, you don’t want harmful disease-causing microorganisms to grow within your food product, and it either needs to be too hot or too cold for the bacteria and viruses and fungi to survive. But why are there exceptions to the rule? Your recipe says that a rare steak reaches the internal temperature of 51 degrees, a medium rare of 54, a medium of 58 and so on. Doesn’t that put the person who prefers to eat their steak rare at greater risk? How does a restaurant get around that liability? It’s not as though it can do a medical check of the customer to ensure that they have no history of immunological disorders or gastrointestinal problems. And what about nations which choose to ignore these limits altogether? We serve sushi and sashimi here in Japan, which is certainly not cooked to 62 or highter. The French have their Carpaccio and tartare. The Lebanese have their kibbee nayee, and so on.”
Makoto watches as Ami grinds exactly three shakes of pepper onto each side of her steak, then rolls her eyes. “How does your guy like his steak cooked? That’s all I need to know.”
Ami blushes almost as red as the meat she’s fiddling with. “Umm. Medium rare is fine. And he’s hardly ‘my’ guy. More of Mamoru’s, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’ve already split hairs over the science of cooking. I don’t think I have enough energy to argue over the exact nature of your relationship with the mouthy blond menace. Do you think you can put together a nice green salad to go with these steaks? That way we can get done quicker, and I can make myself scarce before he comes here.”
**
Makoto knows better than to attempt to teach Rei anything too outlandish in the kitchen. Rei is a traditionalist in every sense of the word, and probably would not be caught dead in some hipster gastro-pub serving deconstructed salad of micro-greens topped with lobster foam something-or-another no matter how many Michelin stars and James Beard awards the place might have won. Rei is also reasonably competent with her hands and not particularly accident-prone, so something like steamed gyoza seems right up her alley. Sure, making the filling and dough from scratch is an extra effort, but her friend had never been the type to settle for mediocre and ordinary.
Her first warning that things might not turn out quite so well is when Rei takes a full step back when she sets the food processor on the counter. “What is that?” 
Her tone could only have been snottier had the food processor been possibly coated in dung and mildew and maybe plastered with boy band stickers. “It’s a food processor. So we can easily chop up the chives, grind up the pork.”
“I have a perfectly serviceable set of knives here.” Rei turns up her aristocratic little nose and points to the knife-block, which, to be fair, holds a set of heirloom-quality blades. Trust the senshi of war to know her sharp objects, Makoto thinks drolly, but she acquiesces. “All right. You can mince the chives with that, I guess. But I’m using the food processor to grind the meat.”
They both get to work, and Rei glares at the machine as soon as it starts up as though the noise offended her on a personal level. She’s not bad-- indeed, her cuts are decent even by chef standards, but by the time Makoto has finished up her meat and mixed in soy sauce and ginger and garlic and a pinch of allspice and an egg, she’s only about a quarter of the way done with her chives. Slowly and stubbornly, she soldiers on as Makoto measures out flour and water and a pinch of salt. 
“What in the world is that?”
Now, the question is directed towards the stand mixer plugged into the wall outlet. Makoto doesn’t even dignify that with a response, and dumps in flour, salt and water, lets fly. Sure, she can knead the dough by hand if she wanted to. And stretch it, cut it, roll it out for the dumpling wrappers. And maybe, if he’s very, very lucky, Jun would have gyoza sometime within the next two years. She’s just about ready to start rolling the dough when Rei finally finishes cutting the chives by hand, and dumps them into the bowl of the ground meat mixture, scowling at the way the damp green mince clings to her fingertips. Makoto finishes mixing the filling, then shows Rei, quickly, how to pinch the edges of the dumpling shut. 
She waits until the knives are washed and put away and the pot is simmering before turning to her friend with a mischievous look, tongue firmly tucked in cheek. “Well. I’m sure Jun will appreciate your painstaking work on this meal, doing things the old-fashioned way by hand. He’ll know just how much you care from the sheer effort you went through.”
If looks could kill, Makoto would be buried six feet under complete with an ugly angel-shaped monument and an elaborate wreath of flowers on her grave. She manages to keep a straight face while she takes the dumplings out the pot, then excuses herself. She’s still laughing when she arrives at her own apartment a good half-hour later. 
**
Leave it to Minako, of course, to want to learn the most complicated, exotic dish of them all. 
“I think it would be perfect! He doesn’t eat pork or beef, and I love spicy food, and I know you’ll help me and it will turn out wonderfully!” 
Makoto eyes the recipe bookmarked on Minako’s phone-- very heavily starred on Pinterest, and apparently the handiwork of some world-renowned celebrity chef. “Indian lamb curry, though? That’s… quite ambitious of you, Minako.” Indeed, the list of ingredients is daunting in and of itself, even for a seasoned home cook, and Minako’s idea of gourmet home cooking generally involved cracking an egg over her boiling ramen noodles. 
“Oh don’t you worry. I’ve watched a TON of youtube videos. And cooking reality shows. That Gordon Ramsay is HILARIOUS. And it all goes into the slow cooker, so it hardly requires fancy techniques and knifework and the like. All I have to do is toss everything in there and push a button and spend the rest of my time making myself look gorgeous and sexy, right??”
Makoto eyes the recipe again. She’s pretty sure that Minako has never heard of the term ‘garam masala’ in her life. “Maybe you should at least let me taste it before you serve it. Just in case.”
Six hours later a mostly-decent-looking sample of the dish is placed in front of her. The curry is an appetizing orange-brown colour, and the kitchen smells invitingly of spices. Minako had even taken the time to toss some finely chopped parsley onto the meat for a pop of bright green. Makoto is pleasantly surprised, and gives Minako an approving smile which lasts all of three seconds-- the three seconds it takes to put a piece of the meat in her mouth. She gags, and spits it out. “Oh, GOD! What did you put in this?! It tastes like the Dead Sea… if the Dead Sea were on fire!”
Minako shoots her a wide-eyed look from those baby blues, thoroughly bewildered. “Welllllll… all these videos said to salt with every step of the cooking pricess. So I did. It was probably like close to half a cup of salt total, because I added some after every other ingredient. And then I didn’t have tomato paste so I substituted ketchup. Basically the same thing, you know? And I didn’t have the tablespoon of fresh ginger, so I used a tablespoon of ginger powder, and shelled pistachios look just like cardamom pods for like a tenth of the price, and I used Old Bay seasoning instead of Bay leaves… But the only thing I absolutely couldn’t figure out at all was this ‘garam masala’ stuff! So I left it out.”
Without a word, Makoto dumps the entire contents of the slow cooker into the trash, picks up her phone, and dials the local Indian restaurant, Within short order, two takeout containers are delivered-- an Indian lamb curry, and an accompanying container of cheese naan and rice. 
“Just… put it in your own plates,” Makoto tells the other girl, shaking her head between gulps of water. “The kitchen smells like you’ve been cooking all day. It’ll be our little secret and he will never, ever know.”
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Oh, Virginia (A ‘Just a Place’ Interlude)
Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader 
Rating: I... think it’s PG? Not even any language?
Word Count: 1350
Author’s note: @the-blind-assassin-12 stepped up (big time!!!!!) and made me a banner for He’s Not Here earlier, and I promised a drabble of her choosing. She picked Neon Lights/Just a Place Ryan and Reader in this scenario. It’s nothing big - just a look into one afternoon for them, a few months after they move to Charleston, but it’s still important. 
Pt. 2: The song he’s singing can be listened to here
Tag list:  @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @thesandbeneathmytoes
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You tried the knob with one hand, finding it unlocked, and pushed the door open. You entered the room without speaking - you were home early, and you didn’t want to bother Ryan if he was catching a nap between working with David and heading downtown. Closing the door behind you, you dropped your bag onto the couch, inhaling. What’s that? Noises from the kitchen caught your attention, as did the smell - sage and onions, along with the scent of chicken. Quietly, you stepped closer to the kitchen, a smile creeping across your lips. He’s cooking?
 Even though the living room was small, you moved through it slowly, cocking your head to the side as you walked through the doorway and into the dining room, fingers trailing over the scarred tabletop that had been left by the previous occupants. Ryan’s back was to you as he stood in front of the counter, busily chopping things with a knife, and as you paused, opening your mouth to speak, he started singing.
 You hadn’t heard the song before, but the way he was singing it made you realize that it was one he was very familiar with, his voice rising and falling as he sang about missing the places he’d been and the people he knew. Instead of speaking, you leaned against the wall, hugging yourself tightly as you watched - the muscles in his back flexing beneath his black t shirt, bare foot tapping on the tiled floor. Listening to Ryan sing for a crowd was one thing, but catching him in the moments when he thought he was alone were another entirely. Like in Vegas, when he’d been singing in the shower, his voice in the kitchen was filled with the emotion that was carried with each lyric. Every syllable was sung with purpose, and Ryan’s guard was completely and totally down - it was raw and it was real, and it was one of the things you loved about him.
 Near the end of the second verse, Ryan’s voice wavered and he trailed off, sniffing and shaking his head back and forth, his left hand going up to his hair to push it back and away from his face. Still, you remained silent, even though you wanted to go to him, to hug him. He needs this minute. Give it to him. He paused, taking a deep breath and returning to his task, throwing handfuls of carrots and celery into a pan on the stove as he started singing again. You weren’t smiling anymore, but you were still focused on him, even as he finished the song, lowering his head and shaking it. “You gonna stand there and watch me all night, or are you gonna say somethin’?” Of course he knew I was there.
 His tone surprised you, but as he stood up straight and looked over his shoulder at you, you saw that he was grinning. “I’m sorry, Ryan. You were.. I didn’t want to…” After glancing back down at the pan and stirring the vegetables with a wooden spoon, he turned to face you, holding a hand out. Immediately, you stepped forward, fingers grasping his as he pulled you to his chest, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth.
 “Nah. You never bother me. I knew you were there anyway.” He laughed and you did too, shaking your head. As you stepped away and looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, you gestured with your free hand to the stove. What’s this? “Chicken and dumplings… or at least I hope it will be.” You peeked over his shoulder at the pan, which contained shredded chicken, carrots, onions, celery and some broth, and was the source of the smell. A quick glance to the right showed you your iPad, leaning against the backsplash with a recipe open on the screen. “I cheated a little, though. Used rotisserie chicken to save some time.” Smart. “Just gotta let this simmer for a while, and then make the dumplin’ part.” He reached up with the back of his hand to rub at his forehead, and you watched as he left a smear of flour across his brow.  That’s the most…
 “Smells great, Ry. What made you…” He shrugged, squeezing your hand and then turning back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan again. You stepped forward, leaning your cheek against his back and stroking his side with your right hand, feeling him move in front of you.
 “Wanted to cook for you. Missin’ my mom. She used to make this for us when I was younger, and it was her favorite thing to make when the weather started to turn.” He took a deep breath. “We’d have leftovers for days.” Ryan had told you bits and pieces about his family, about what caused him to leave, about his stepfather and the way things had changed. He’d always said good things about his mom, though, and this - even though it was something small - was his way of bringing her into the place you shared - into your home.
 “You did a good job, Ryan. Smells just like when my mom used to make it.” Squeezing his side, you stepped back and next to him, watching as he turned to look at you. Eyes traveling over his face, you reached up with one hand, rubbing the flour from his skin and smiling, biting down on your lower lip. “Never heard that song before, either.” Your hand lingered on his cheek. “Let me guess, she used to sing it for you?”
 “No.” He shook his head. “No, she used to play his records, but this song didn’t come out ‘til right before I left home, an’ I heard a few times before I left, but... “ He shrugged. “Learned it to play it a few years later, and just… I donno, reminds me of her.” He looked down, shaking his head, and when he looked back up, his eyes were wide. “Sometimes I think that I don’t deserve any of ths, right?” He gestured around the room and then at you, still shaking his head. “And then I think about what she would want for me, and I realize that I do.” You nodded, dropping your hand to your side and watching him. Let him talk. “This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place on purpose in years, and it feels good.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss you again. “Real good.” The following kiss started out gently, but when you sighed into his mouth, one hand going to his hair, Ryan stepped forward, pushing you back toward the other countertop, tongue delving deeply into your mouth. “I deserve someone like you.”
 You do, Ryan. We both do. You nodded, feeling his lips move against yours as he spoke and then neither of you spoke again for long moments, his hand creeping up your hip and under the hem of your hoodie, fingers finding the smooth skin beneath it. “Ryan.” You gasped his name out, pulling away. “It’s gonna burn.” He laughed, shaking his head. “And you’ve gotta go to work tonight, you’re playing-”
“I’m not. They double booked, and since I’ve been there so much, they gave me the night off.” He shrugged, eyes catching the light of the late afternoon, mid-October sun. “You’ve got me all night if you want me.” The look on his face told you that he knew you did, and he laughed, stepping back and pouring another measuring cup full of chicken stock into the pot before covering it and turning the burner down so that it was on low. “So.” He paused, hand going through his hair again. “What should we do?”
 Without pause, you reached down, pulling the hoodie over your head and setting it down on the counter before you stepped back toward him. “I dont know, Ryan. What should we do?” He grinned, shaking his head and leaning over, lips in the hair behind your ear.
 “I can think of a few things. C’mon.”
---
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acosmicmouse · 5 years
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A Cosmic Mouse Guide: Being Small
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Happy New Year! /  新年快樂 It is that time when so many of us make resolutions to eat better, exercise, lose -x pounds, gain +500 confidence and energy. But the way society has taught us to do this is stressful and unsustainable. I don’t pretend to be an expert; but I know this: if you aren’t happy, what difference will it make to lose weight? I don’t care how amazing I might look if I did fad diet #4, or exercised intensely every day, or only ate between __ AM and __ PM every day, and obeyed all these arbitrary, unintuitive  rules people have come up with to try to lose weight. Nothing would be worth the stress of it all. Instead, if you want to lose weight this year, I want to invite you to try some things that worked for me. 
Take your time. You don’t have to rush.  Over five years, I’ve lost over 85 pounds. It seemed very slow at times. But I am happy to have taken that time to get where I am now. Any time I would try something new, and it would help me lose weight, the first thing I would ask myself is--can I do this for an indefinite amount of time and still be happy? If the answer was no, I would move on.
Pretend you are at your goal already. What would the small-you do? What would the small-you eat and drink? How would the small-you feel? Why wait until you are small for those things? Try to picture an ideal day at your goal weight, and you’ll find just about all of it is possible today.
Learn what your body likes to eat. After you eat something, see how you feel. Do you feel good and have more energy? Nice! Eat more of that. Do you feel gross, stuffed, sluggish, or bloated? Maybe you want to avoid that food.
Try new foods! Make it a fun and exciting event, once a week, once a month--invite your friends to try new foods with you. Go on a little road trip to different ethnic markets. Research recipes you think you might like.
Try different ways to cook foods! Look up rice cooker recipes. Get a little air fryer to experiment with. Stir fry is always successful. Try making your own dried fruit. Summertime?! Cook your food on a campfire!!!! Let your sense of adventure be your compass. (If you are not a great cook, like me, don’t worry--if it comes out badly, you don’t have to eat it. You won’t gain weight from bad cooking. :D )
Learn when your body likes to eat. Hungry when you wake up? Have breakfast then. Not hungry at all in the morning? Wait until later to eat. Only hungry at 6:18 AM and 9:42 PM? Go for it! After all, you are a cosmic mouse now--you will not be confined by a clock.
Learn how much your body needs. You don’t need to keep eating until you’re feeling stuffed, just until you’re not hungry. If you aren’t sure, take a break--you can always eat more later. You also don’t need to starve. Eat enough, just not too much. If you feel better grazing, then graze. If you feel better having full meals, have full meals. This can be different every day. That’s okay too.
Identify non-hunger triggers. Do you eat when you’re bored? Watch a good show, read a good book, knit, crochet, go for a walk, go snowshoeing, ride a bike, learn a language, start an indoor garden, go on a cleaning spree with music or a podcast on, get in the car and go exploring! Do you eat when you’re lonely? Call a friend. Do you eat when you’re tired? Take a nap or go to bed early if you can. Sad, angry, frustrated, etc? It’s hard, but try to face those things nose to nose like a brave little mouse.
Try different activities! If you enjoy the gym, good for you! But most of us don’t. Exercise doesn’t have to feel like a chore though. Try different kinds of dance. Try ice skating, snowshoeing, skiing, snowboarding, extreme sledding, bowling, golf, hockey. Going for a quiet walk after work can be relaxing. Try qigong, yoga, pilates, different martial arts. Don’t stop until you find something you enjoy. It doesn’t have to be intense either. Gardening may not seem like a workout, but it’s better than laying on the couch.
Use what motivates you, and avoid what pressures you. If the scale motivates you, use it to your advantage. Or if, like me, you feel more pressured by the scale than anything, just weigh in once a month--or not at all! Pay more attention to how you feel, how much energy you have, how loose your clothes feel, and how happy you are with yourself. Use those feelings to motivate you. Once you know how good you can feel, you will want things to stay that way.
Keep your house, car, computer, and workplace clean and tidy. Your mind will take ques from your surroundings. If you live in clutter and chaos, your mind will be cluttered and chaotic. If your surroundings are clean, harmonious, organized, and generally pleasant--your mind will be too.
Make sure you sleep enough. Sleeping less than you need is seen now as a sign of strength and perseverance, but that doesn’t make it healthy. Sleep as much as you need, but not more, as often as you can. If you need to catch up on sleep, it is much better to nap during the day than to go to bed early or wake up late.
Make sure you get enough water. It can be very hard to lose weight if you don’t stay hydrated. Kind of like trying to scrub a pan with a dry sponge. If you don’t like the taste, try adding fruit slices. Foods with a lot of water are helpful too: soups, melons, tomatoes, celery, peppers, eggplant.
Have fun! Time flies when you’re having fun. Before you know it, you will be at your goals. And until then, isn’t it better to have a good time anyway?
Bonus Some of my favorite cooks on youtube: Li Ziqi, pictured above, is my absolute favorite. If you want to see how beautifully life and food can come together, I highly recommend her videos. Mike Chen’s channel Strictly Dumpling is amazing. If you need help awakening your sense of foody adventure, Strictly Dumpling is for you. If Thai food is something you enjoy, Pailin’s Kitchen has tons of recipes and cooking videos.
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