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madllamamomma · 3 years

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The Visitor~ Part 4

Rhemi x Muriel fanfic. [Warning: the following contains graphic language and mentions blood.]

Part 4~

Père~

Nearly fully sprinting at this point, Rhemi tries her best to make it on time to the palace gates to meet her father. The time really got away from her this morning, despite her waking up before the crack of dawn. Luckily, it’s not raining today, the sky is nice and clear and there’s even a light breeze, but it’s still rather chilly. At least the sun is there to keep her warm today, a good day for walking around.

As she hurries through the busy streets inching closer and closer to the palace, she can’t help but feel so nervous, yet rather excited at the same time. An entire morning with her father! Oh how excited she was to have someone else to talk to about advance spells, incantations, and all other sorts of magic! Her friends were always there to talk to her, but she doesn’t remember having someone this groomed and experienced before.

Not to mention, she couldn’t wait to show him around the city that she is so proud of and loved. Countess Nadia, Consul Valerius, Portia (who is now a chamberlain) and the citizens have been so busy building and improving the city in the last year. Where there were once slums, sinking, underwater neighborhoods, or rough and sketchy places are now where new homes, restaurants, and shops are thriving. Vesuvia has honestly never been better. It seems like everyday Nadia and the citizens have been improving it more and more each and every day.

Turning the final corner to the central part of the city reveals the palace and all its marvelous splendor. Rhemi can feel her heart fluttering in her chest as she sees Martin just exiting the gates by two guards. Dressed in fancy foreign clothes like the day before but different colors and the same silk blue cape and jeweled cane… Except there was no hat on his head, and no badger draped across his shoulders. Martin peers down at his pocket watch with a sore expression, before he notices his daughter jogging towards him. A bright smile takes over his lips, that icy exterior partially melts away yet again.

Nearly out of breath, slowing down her stride as she prances towards him giddily. “Good morning!” She huffs with a tired grin and a little sweat on her brow.

“Well, good morning to you too, Rhemielia.” Martin replies, blindly putting away his pocket watch. “Running a wee bit behind are we?”

With a nervous smile, she scratches the back of her head. “Sorry, I was practicing a new spell. Lost track of time—You know how it is…. I-I hope? Or maybe it’s just me.”

Thinking he’d be interested, and ask what kind of spell she’s working on, she prepares herself to gush about it. But instead, he offers her arm not seeming to have really listened to what she had just said. “Mmm—Shall we?”

Rhemi shakes herself out of her mindset, her grin wide, happily taking his arm. “Oh—We shall.” There are plenty of other things to talk about other than magic.

As soon as the two start walking down the street an awkward dead quiet suddenly takes over. Never has silence been so loud, even when Rhemi started getting to know Muriel, it wouldn’t feel this awkward. After a couple of minutes, it becomes unbearable for both of them as they continue to walk aimlessly down the street.

“...So—”

“Did you—”

Both of them try to break the silence at the same time. But as soon as the other one started to speak, they hushed up quickly again thinking one of them would continue.

“... My apolo—”

“... Sorry—”

Blush starts to take over both of their cheekbones as they both fumble terribly for a proper foot hole to start a conversation.

“After you—”

“Go aheaaa—Ahhhhh.”

Finally the two stop in their tracks and look at one another a bit embarrassed. Unable to contain herself anymore, Rhemi snorts through her nose at this complete ridiculous awkwardness, breaking all the exhausting tension. After breaking down this unneeded discomfort, Martin then lets out a soft startled chuckle along with her, making his laughter lines next to his temples come out for once.

“Go ahead.” Rhemi says with a cheery smile, giving him a small nudge with her elbow.

But he shakes his head, patting her hand still loop through his other arm, a smile remaining on his face. “No, No—Please, ladies first.”

“Alrighty then…” She replies and they both proceed to stroll down the street again. “Did you sleep well?”

He sighs and thinks about that question with a shrug rolling off his shoulders. “Well enough, I suppose. However, I discovered it difficult to fall asleep after finding out your long lost daughter is still alive and well after all these years”

She laughs through her nose giving him a knowing look. “Yeah—I can relate to that… Except finding out about having a father.”

A fond grin faintly spreads on his lips as they stand there for a moment. Finally, Rhemi had to ask. “So where’s Beatrix today?”

“Oh—I left her behind today so she could get some rest. The damn badger never sleeps on the ship… She’s always hunting for filthy rodents on the deck at night.”

“I hope she’s get some rest then….. Is your hat resting too?”

“.... Beg your pardon??” He quickly replies, tilting his head rather confused.

“You’re not wearing your hat today. So is it resting too?” She kids.

“Oh….” Realizing what she is asking, Martin grins a little wider making the wrinkles in his cheeks visible, and a faint flash of cold in his glance. “... You can say that…”

“I think you look better without it anyways.”

Warmth in his eyes returns, and he looks at her rather flattered. “..... Really?”

“Tee-hee~ I like your hair… I wish I inherited your color. It’s different.” Rhemi says with a smile.

“Ha! I don’t remember the last time someone complimented this overly ripe hair of mine.” Her father instinctinky slicks his thick plum and gray mane back with the other hand. “Thank you….”

“You’re welcome.”

“.... So, my Pigeon—” He says taking back his cane with his free hand. “What part of this…. lovely…. quaint little city… are you going to show me?” He sounds half sarcastic when he says lovely and quaint, but Rhemi doesn’t seem to even pay any attention to that, too distracted with her own thoughts.

Ooooooh no—I haven’t thought that far… she thinks to herself, tapping her pointer finger on her chin, pondering hard.

She looks left and right still thinking of the best place to start. Then she finally has an idea. “Hmmmm…. Well, have you had breakfast yet?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I have not.”

“Perfect. I know just the place!” She says excitedly as she tugs him along with a wide silly smile on her face. “Hope you're hungry!”

“We’ll see…” He mumbles to himself not convinced in the slightest.

It isn’t too long before the two come across the heart district where the marketplace is. Even though it’s early on a weekend day, the market is still bustling with people, buying, selling, haggling and negotiating goods.

Of course the apprentice first took her father to one of her favorite bakers named Selasi in town to get some fresh pumpkin bread to start the day.

The poor Selasi’s stall was left in ruin just like everything else in the market after Lucio’s and his army of mercenaries took over the city after the Masquerade. But every since then, he had gotten recognized by the countess when everyone was refugees in the forest next to the hut. All the Parkain royals along with Nadia were impressed with the baker's delicious food, even with what little he had, it was amazing. After everyone returned and started rebuilding, he turned his simple stall into a full on shop and cafe and named it, ‘Selasi’s Bakery’.

He even picked up an apprentice of his own named Agrippa. A very tall and handsome person with powdery white skin, long light-grayish hair styled in pigtails tied and a loop at the ends, blue eyes and a smooth mid-ranged voice. They made Rhemi’s favorite cakes and sweets, and even somehow improved the baker’s pumpkin bread recipe. They even recently started dating Portia after she finally asked them out and the two have been going steady since the fall.

“Well—This is the market!” Rhemi introduces to her father, still leading him towards the bakers.

Her father scans the bustling market with an unimpressed look on his face. “Doesn’t seem like this part has changed.” He mutters to himself forcing himself not to sneer.

“What was that?” Rhemi asks, unable to catch his muttering with all the loud noises from the market goers.

“I asked, ‘where are you taking me to’, Pigeon? ”

“Oh! To one of my very favorite places to get pumpkin bread~” She says as they arrive at the baker’s shop, the air is filled with sweet, buttery and savory aromas and Rhemi opens the door making the bell chime.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t trouble~” Agrippa teases with their charming smirk.

“Oh yeah, you should talk!” Rhemi giggles back, coaxing her father inside with her hand. He enters unenthusiastically looking at all of the food as Rhemi continues with their small talk. “How are you, Ippa?”

“Good, thank you, Bean! Business has been steady like always.”

“Where’s Selasi today?”

“Getting some more flour. I told him I’d go, but he insists that he has to ‘let the flour speak to him’ or whatever. How’s the wedding planning going? Portia told me you’ve been stressed out a little.” They say as they lean into the counter that they normally tower over.

“Things are coming together finally.” She says with an exhausted, but relieved sigh. “With Julian and Portia taking care of the little things, I could focus on the bigger things. All that is left is my last fitting for my dress now. So I think it’s safe to say it’ll be all smooth sailing from here!”

“Muriel dropped off the toppers yesterday. They look amazing! Your bow has some amazing talent. I can’t wait for everyone to see it.”

Rhemi’s eyes brighten up and her lips twist up even more. “Oooo! Let me see!”

“Nooooope~ I have very specific instructions to not let the bride see. It is supposed to be a surprise.” Agrippa says while straightening up their long trunk and folding their arms across their chest. “Sorry~”

Rhemi gives them a smile, pouts, then gives them a quick raspberry like a ten year old. She then rolls her eyes knowing they wouldn’t let her see them, and turns to her father and walks over to him.“OH! There is someone I’d like you to meet!”

“Oh? Who?”

Taking his arm once again, she leads her father to the counter. “Père, this is Agrippa, the baker’s apprentice.”

With one look at the nobleman, Agrippa's eyes widened. “Père? Doesn’t that mean…?” They trail off slowly connecting the dots. “I didn’t know you had a father!”

“Well neither did I!” She says with a giddy smile. “Not till yesterday.”

“Well… How do you do? I’m Agri—”

“Agrippa… yes I heard.” Martin replies a bit snootily. “I am Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès.”

Realizing rather quickly what kind of man Martin was, Agrippa puts on a smirk and stops themself from sputtering. “Well, ‘Sir Remington Martin Alarie III, the Archmagister and head chamberlain of his Royal majesty of the Great Charlès’.” They double over the counter in a long bow deepening their voice playfully to mimic him. “I am but a humble baker who is blessed to be a friend of your lovely daughter.” They say bringing their body back up. “How do you do, Sir? ”

“I was told by my daughter that this was where her favorite pumpkin bread was made.”

“You’ve come to the right place! In fact—” Agrippa replies with a smile dashing off to the brick ovens for a moment donning oven mitts on their hands. “Got a fresh batch right here!”

Rhemi eyes light up with joy and hunger and she wiggles her hips in sheer happiness. “You are going to love it!” She sings to her father and he gives her a half smile.

The baker’s apprentice cuts them both a generous piece wrapped up in a bit of parchment paper. “Here ya’ go!”

Just as Rhemi digs into her coin purse, her father stops her. “No, no. Do keep your money.” And digs into his vest. “A gentleman should always pay for a lady.”

But Agrippa stops him sticking out their hand and waving. “It’s on the house.”

“Really? You won’t get into trouble will you, Ippa?”

“Nahhhh~ Besides, gods know you and your friends keep this place in business!” They laugh.

“Thank you so much!” She says with a big happy smile then looks to her father expecting him to say thank you as well.

He blinks blankly, for a moment then opens his mouth with a click of his tongue. “Oh—Yes… ah, thank you, Agrippa… Although if you're giving this away for free... I’m not sure if I should be concerned or not.... could this be a poorer batch you messed up on?”

Rhemi laughs thinking he’s joking, and Agrippa joins in to not make things awkward, but knowing that he wasn’t kidding.

“Well we’ll get out of your hair before the weekend rush comes! See ya later, Ippa! Tell Selasi I said hello!”

“See ya!” Agrippa says with a smile as the two head out the door hiding a middle finger behind their back as they glare at the Archmagister and his unnecessary dickish comment.

As soon as they leave the bakery and walk around the market, Rhemi digs into her hot pumpkin bread. “Mmmmm! Sooooo goood.” She happily moans, tearing up the moist and tasty bread; but as she looks over to her father, he hasn’t even touched his food.

“Smmthin’ woong?” She asks covering her mouth, her voice muffled with bread still in her mouth.

The Archmagister just shrugs, taking a very small piece and forcing it down his throat. “....Hmmmm.”

“I’m sorry, do you not like pumpkin bread? I should have asked—”

“Oh no, it’s just…. I don’t take handouts.” Martin replies, his face stone cold and serious.

“Hand out?” She blurts out. “It’s a gift! Ippa was being nice.”

“Well… whatever you call it. I don’t take gifts unless I know what people want…” He says with a sneer. Rhemi’s happy smile then drops into a frown and Martin starts to feel an unfamiliar pull in his heart as he nearly tosses the bread to the ground for the birds to eat. “...I ah…. I also don’t care for pastries for breakfast.” He says adjusting his tone while wrapping up the pumpkin bread into the parchment paper and handing it to his daughter. “... Nor do I typically have breakfast now that I mention it. Perhaps you’ll save it for later.”

“O—Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry you don’t like it.”

“Not your fault, Pigeon. I don’t expect you to know everything.” He reassures her. “Well where else in this pathe—I mean… petite city of yours are you going to show me?”

With a determined grin, Rhemi takes a deep breath knowing another place to go to.

“Follow me!”

——————————

As Rhemi shows Sir Martin around the city, the Temple district, the Heart, South end, and even the now newly rebuilt shopping district (previously known as the flooded district). But still, Rhemi couldn’t shake the agonizing feeling like the Archmagister was rather unimpressed with everything she threw at him. Even after all the renovations completed in the past year—Even when Rhemi told her father the story about the Devil converging with the ex-count—The battles with Lucio and his mercenary-ghost army— The competition to keep the world out of chaos.

Nothing—truly, nothing seems to impress him at all.

He still sneered, and scowled at the city, like he made up his own mind about it long long ago. Strangely, when the two were traveling around, it seemed like her father was familiar with the streets. He even knew many of the alleyways and short cuts that she didn’t even know about. But that hardly seemed to matter to Rhemi— the man wasn’t impressed with her beloved home… and she wanted to change that.

Persistently, she continued to show him Vesuvia, gushing her heart out, and even showed him the best places to eat and shop. Yet still, all her attempts to impress himself still left him with a sour expression on his face or a yawn.

As noon slowly approaches, Rhemi works back their way back to the palace. Feeling the morning wearing her down they approach the city center next to the large fountain where an old tacky statue of Lucio on a horse used to be. Now it’s only a lone cheetah holding a spear. For once. the Archmagistor seemed to have noticed it and stopped staring at this slightly perplexed.

“Say, Mileia…” (Another pet name for her apparently.) “...... Didn’t that used to be a gold statue of the Count riding a horse?”

Rhemi peers over to the top of the roaring fountain. “Oh yeah…. that was destroyed when Lucio attacked the city a year ago.”

Suddenly, the tangy scent of freshly smoked eel engulfs the plaza. She wasn't the only one who noticed either. Martin's teal eyes light up as if he sees an old long lost friend.

“Fresh eel!! Come and get your fresh eel heeeerreeeee!!!” The stand keeper shouts waving the delicious food in the air for everyone to see and smell.

Without another word, Rhemi hurries over with her coin purse before her father could stop her. “I’ll take two, please.”

The cheery venter takes her coins and gives her two kabobs. With food in hand, she runs back over to her father, she gives him one eel with a joyful smile. “This is a gift from your daughter. Not a hand out.” Half expecting him to refuse it, he surprisingly takes the food then stares at it almost nostalgically sniffing the tasty treat.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asks, stopping herself from shoving the food down her throat.

“Hmm??” Martin shakes his head, but still stares at the kabob oddly. “Oh, nothing… I just haven't had a smoked eel in a very long time.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you had it in Charles too.”

He gives her a small annoyed glance from her mispronunciation. “It’s Charlès, darling…. And we don’t. The capital doesn’t have any seas or ocean around it. It’s surrounded by treacherous mountains. The only fish we have is salmon, bass, and trout from the icy rivers...”

“O.. oh… So… where have you had it before?”

“I….—” Martin sharply stops himself and his eyes grow colder again and he seems to shake himself out of his nostalgic trace. “... M-my father, your grandfather, Remington II used to bring me and my siblings some when he traveled to the coast. He placed a spell on them so they wouldn’t spoil.”

“Oh… Neat!” Rhemi says with a smile. So far he’s mentioned her grandparents once the day before. Apparently that's where she gets her dark reddish-brown hair from her grandmother.

Unable to resist the sweet, salty smoky flavor, he actually takes a bite out of the eel and seems to rather enjoy it. “Still even tastes the same…” He chuckles before scarfing the eel down.

Finally. Something he likes. Feeling a bit accomplished she feels the tension in her shoulders relax. This man wasn’t like any of her friends. Gods know he was much harder to read as well. It’s like he has this invisible wall around himself. Trying to get to know him was proving to be difficult. But Rhemi liked a challenge and wasn’t one to give up easily.

“So, I suppose they had a reason why did they replace Luico with this… cheetah?” Her father asks after making it half through his eel looking at the piece of art of the new fountain.

“Lucio nearly tore this city and the world apart… He killed a lot of people to gain power. People that Muriel and I really cared about… He even killed his father years ago. Then killed his own mother in the Scourge Lands… Her name was Morga…” With sad somber expression, she stares up at the bronze sculpture and all its power and beauty. “If it wasn’t for Morga… I don’t think we’d be here right now… Muriel and I probably wouldn’t have gone to the south together… Lucio might have even won.”

“.... So I presume that cheetah is supposed to represent her?”

Sadly, Rhemi slowly nods her head, still gazing at the fountain statue.

“Interesting…. Excuse me for slightly changing the subject… but you mentioned that Lucio became merged with the…. devil? From the Arcana realm?”

Taken a little by surprise, she glances over to her father realizing that he did in fact listen to her earlier while she was showing him the other parts of the city. “Yeah… I’m not sure exactly how. But I think he made a lot of deals with various demons— I mean that literally…. And like I said… kill a lot of people... including his own mother.”

“... Just so he could live forever?”

“.... I think it was for power and to live forever??... Or it was so he could regain a physical form…. or maybe he wanted to dominate the world too—Or that was the devil influencing him? I honestly have no idea. And if you ask me, it was too heavy of a price to pay. The Arcana realms must be occupied by someone… if not, our world is thrown into chaos and ruin. In the end, he was forced back.”

“Hmmm…”

After making quick work of his eel, Martin throws the bare stick into the water of the fountain. Poor Rhemi’s eyes widen in silent dismay and hastily fishes it out with her magic when he isn’t looking. She’d have half a mind to tell him not to litter… But it didn’t feel like the time or place to lecture her own father.

“It is strange to hear about a dead man coming back to life… When rumors came that Count Lucio of Vesuvia was murder in his own bed, it came to many courtiers a shock. Even the king was appalled….Personally, I always saw him as a bumbling fool.”

“So you've been here before?”

“A handful of times, yes.”

“And you knew the ex-Count?”

“Unfortunately. King Francis rather enjoyed his company much to my dismay….. His Majesty thought he was and I quote, ‘The best kind of host, charmingly idiotic and stupidly generous’.... He did know how to throw some entertaining parties, I suppose. So the King seemed to have taken a liking to him… but I never cared for him.”

“Good!! He was a freakin’ asshole is what he was.” Rhemi snarly adds before taking the last bite of her smoked eel, stewing on all the things he’s done to everyone, especially Muriel. “That stupid humanoid-goat could go fuck himself in the devil’s realm for all of eternity for all I care! Good riddance!” She sneers under her breath.

With an shocked and appalled expression, Martin glances at her mildly scolding. “Well, that’s some colorful language for a lady such as yourself.”

Pssssh! I’m no lady… She laughs to herself and she pulls on her lips to stop from spilling them out. “... So you disagree with me?” She asks with a smirk and an eyebrow raised, throwing the two bare sticks into a nearby rubbish bin, still chewing a half mouth full of eel.

Despite his distaste for her language, he’s unable to control his snickering. For now he lets it go and he shrugs. “I never said that.” Martin chuckles. “.. You are right in that regard... that man was an encompident ass.”

“—Miss Rhemi!!!” A childish voice all of a sudden calls from a far.

Rhemi and Sir Martin whip their heads around to where the young voice was calling from. Low and behold, they see three children all under the ages of twelve barreling towards them, the youngest in full sprint. Really at second look, it looks like the other two were chasing after the younger one.

“Hold onto your coin purse, Rhemielia.” Martin whispers with a vicious sneer, standing in front of her with his cane at the ready.

“Huh?” She mumbles looking over his shoulder, not getting a few view of the children.

As soon as her voice escapes from her lips, Rhemi can sense her father conjuring his magic into the jeweled handle of his cane. The gem starts to glow brightly giving off a sort of metallic smelling aura... He is conjuring a spell?? To use on these kids???

Now getting a full glimpse over her father’s shoulder, she realizes she knows the children running up to them both and a large bead of sweat forms on her brow unsure what her father was intending to do.As soon as Martin brings up his cane to let loose the spell, she gently places her hand on the top of his jeweled handle, scooting him out of the way and forcing him to set down his weapon.

“—Ohhh! Lilly! Zachary! Nathan! How are you silly kids??” She says with a ginger smile. Martin face twists as he realizes that she knows these little peasants, but he keeps quiet, observing her as the three snot nosed brats approach them, two boys and one girl.

Rhemi kneels down and the children all embrace her with a tight hug nearly knocking her over to the cobble street. “Rhemiiiiii!!!”

“Sorry! I couldn’t stop him.” The girl apologized.

“That’s alright! Well—Hello, hello, and hello! What are you three rascals doing here?” Rhemi greets cheerily.

“Getting some eggs.” The young girl says lifting up an empty basket. She was the tallest and the oldest. If you couldn’t immediately, she was the responsible one in the trio, the ‘mother hen’ of the group. Her hair was a bright blonde with tight curls styled in two puffy pigtails. Her skin is a beautiful dark black, like a fresh brewed coffee, and eyes a bright hazel.

“Where’s Mr. Tall Man today?” The youngest boy asks looking all around making his wild and curly brown toffee colored hair, bounce all around. He has pale ivory skin with flecks everywhere, and dark brown eyes, and couldn’t be no older than six or seven, about one of Muriel’s cousins named Ida’s age, and just as cute. However he wasn’t the faintest bit shy like Ida is.

“Oh—I’m sorry, Nathan. Muriel isn’t with me today. He’s busy doing other errands.” Rhemi answers him tilting her head feeling rather guilty.

“Awwww.” The little boy whines looking at the ground disappointedly, holding the eldest child and the girl's hand and pouts. “I wanted to show him my newt. I found him in a pond.” He opens his pocket and out comes a little sticking looking bright orange creature with various sized brown and gray spots covering his head to his tail (freckles, just like Nathan).

Martin makes a revolted little noise and looks away for a moment, a hard sneer twisting his features, Rhemi doesn’t see him cringing behind. To his surprise, his daughter isn’t disgusted or afraid at all, she actually seems to think it’s cute, and pets his little head with her pointer finger. “Ooooh~ What’s their name, Nathan?”

“Wart! He’s a boy newt.” He says as he turns his neck and sticks his tongue out at Lillian and she just shakes her head, with a long-suffering look on her face.

“Well isn’t he just lovely. He has a wonderful color, orange is one of my favorite colors. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Muriel about him! I’m sure he’d love to see him.” Her eyes glance behind to her father, still looking rather prudish and she smiles realizing she hadn’t introduced anyone yet. “OH! Right!…. Sooo, everyone, this is my father, his name is Sir Remington Martin Alarie III. He’s a King’s magician.”

The young girl lets out a shallow quick gasp as she looks up at Martin and he half turns his nose up at her. “I didn’t know you had a father.” She whispers to Rhemim shielding her mouth with her hand.

Rhemi plays along and whispers back the same way, “Neither did I… We just met yesterday.”

Little Nathan clings onto the Archmagister’s pant leg and Martin furrows his brow and somehow manages to frown even more. “You’re a neat magician too, like Miss Rhemi, Mister??”

Martin rolls his eyes scoffs. “....What gave that away? The cape or the cane, Oh-Child with a newt named ‘Wart’ ?” He sassily remarks, slowly unhinged the child’s arms off his leg.

Realizing that her father was confused about how she knew these children, she stands up and loops her arm around his. “Père, these are some children that were on the streets before the battle with Lucio…” Rhemi then points to each of the kids one at a time. “This is Lillian, Lilly for short. That strapping young lad is Zachary. And last but not least, little Nathan.”

The youngest child excitedly waves his hand at the old grumpy magician adorably despite Martin's lack of caring. “You look like a fancy magician!!” Nathan giggles cutely, finally letting go of the Archmagister’s leg.

“..... Mmmmm hmmmm….” The old gentleman grumbles. “... Nathan… was it??” The boy nods his head not noticing the nobleman’s disgust as he continues to sluggishly push him away, now gently using the butt end of his cane. “Pleasure to make your…. acquaintance…” He mutters trying to sound kind as he quickly brushes off his pant leg he touched.

Zachary, the older boy, notices the man’s dislike for Nathan touching him and stares at him shamelessly and the two start to have a silent scowling staring contest all unbeknownst to Rhemi who is still looking away. But Lilly catches and just stands there shaking her head unimpressed with either of them.

But then Nathan just rambled on adorably blabbing and now clinging onto Rhemi’s right leg and she ruffles his messy hair untamed hair that she admired. “Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel and Ms. Countess lady and—*achoo*—and all of her other friends helped made us all a home.”

A little bit of pink quickly stains Rhemi’s face as her father's eyes fall on her. “Well it was all Muriel, Asra, and Nadia’s idea to build an orphanage. All I did was help.”

“The Countess lady comes and reads to us eeeevery Wednesdays.” Nathan continues to rant. “And—And Miss Rhemi and Mr. Muriel comes by and sometimes they bring us arts n’ crafts and-and-and teach us magic!!”

“Is that so?” Marin fakely smiles. “Magic is so freely taught here I see…”

“Yeah! We each have our own beds! Mr. Muriel helped make them for us!”

“—And get three square meals a day. We don’t have to fight or steal food anymore….” Zachary finally chims in, scratching the back of his head. “Which is…. okay I guess…” His skin is olive-ish brown and his hair is a dark umber color, but has bright crystal blueish gray eyes that stand out.

Zachary was always normally very quiet. He used to be a part of a group of kids that were terrible bullies and even thugs. But ever since he saw Muriel, a hero and champion to the city, who was an orphan who grew up on the docks just like him, something changed in him. Perhaps knowing that someone like him could be a hero someday, strong and brave, he left that life behind and started a fresh path at the orphanage. He was still very young, no older than eleven, but really looked up to Muriel and Rhemi and saw them both as his role models. Even now, he tries to act all tough and aloof, but he’s really a little sweetheart and cared about the orphanage as much as the other two did.

“Well isn’t that ….nice.” Martin says with a bit of surprise in his face glancing at Rhemi. “Very appropriate for a young lady such as yourself to get involved in.”

“How’s Mrs. Edilen doing??” Rhemi asks, turning her attention back to the children.

“Old…” Zachary mutters blankly. Without warning, Lilly smacks him across the back of his head with such a scoldingly look on her face. “—OW! WHAAAAT??” He grumbles just above a whisper, his bright eyes angrily beaming at her as he holds his head.

“Shut your mouth, Zach!!! That woman is good to us and you know it!” Lilly snaps before answering Rhemi. “She’s fine, but her back has been bothering her lately.”

Lillian has been the little mother figure for these kids at the orphanage. She was always scolding and ensuring everyone minded their manners even though she was half their strength. You could tell she was in charge, but she was a very good kid with a heart of gold. She reminds Rhemi of herself in a way.

Rhemi stifles a laugh to spare poor Zachary’s pride and just continues with the conversation. “She’s actually coming by later for her potion, I hope that’ll help her.”

“Me too, I guess….” Zachary grumbles with his arms folded. “I’m sick of reading bedtime stories to the younger kids...”

“Oh stop acting like you don’t like it! You’re the one who does it without anyone asking you too!” Lilly rolls her eyes.

“...T—They whine if I don’t!” He quickly retaliates, blushing crazily.

Lilly just stares at him with a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah, I’m sure they whine when you don’t do the voices either!” She teases.

Poor Zachary’s face looks like it's going to explode and he gently shoves her, covering his burning face with the neck of his shirt like a turtle. “Shut. Up. LILLIAN!!” He grouches, words muffled by his shirt.

Kneeling back down with a giggle, Rhemi can’t help but love to see these two banter like they do. I can see these two getting married in ten years. She thinks to herself. “Well, I better get going, kiddos. I’m showing my father around the city and are expected for tea.”

In unison all of the kids sink their shoulders disappointedly.

“Are you both gonna come to see us soon?” Nathan asks with the biggest puppy dog eyes, holding onto her shaw.

“Awwwww!! Of course we will! It’s just all this wedding has just been keeping us busy. But I promise Muriel and I will come soon. Ok?”

All three kids excitedly say, hooray in unison and give her one last group hug before they all head on their merry way, waving her goodbye as they’d end towards the market.

“Bye, Fancy Mister Magician Man!” Nathan calls with a big goofy smile while holding onto Lilly’s hand.

As the kids wander off, Martin just looks at Rhemi with such fondness as he takes a seat next to the water fountain ledge.

“What?” Rhemi asks with a grin.

Martin just shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re just like your mother….. even just now… you are just the spit of her… She loved working with children. She wanted to become a governess before she met me.”

Rhemi smiles a little wider and sits next to her father on the fountain’s edge. “.... I wish I could remember her face….”

The water fountain behind the two keeps endlessly roaring with the water and the two sit then content for a moment, watching as people go by, happy to take a seat for the time being. As they both sit there enjoying the warmth of the sun, Rhemi’s mind wanders to yesterday to her unanswered questions the other day. It kills her to want to know, but it’s terrifying to ask.

Finally, she swallows her fears, and tightens her fists as she summons the courage. “....Père?”

“Yes, my Pigeon?”

“I… I wanted to ask you this yesterday, but it didn’t necessarily come up in the conversation… But…. ummm… What exactly….. happened?....” Her father's smile fades as soon as she utters that question, and he turns his head away from her. His reaction just makes her want to know even more. “...W-Why hadn’t I seen you for so many years?”

Martin’s cold eyes shimmer with a glimpse of pain with that question and swallows hard. “..... I…. I think that's for another day, dear child…”

She sits there for a moment, considering to let it go, but her mouth moves before she can really stop herself. “…. Could… could you at least tell me something? P-Perhaps? It’s been killing me to know what happened….”

Martin still keeps his eyes averts from hers, hoping she’d stop being so persistent.

“... If I could remember any of it myself, I wouldn’t have asked.” She adds sheepishly twiddling with thumbs in her lap.

The old magician stews on her words for a while, still very hesitant to speak of what happened and she thinks he’ll just ignore her plea. But then he sighs very deeply before muttering unenthusiastically, “.... Very well….”

Taking out a pipe out of his vest pocket along with a little tobacco from a fancy tiny metal tin. Conjuring his magic to his finger, he lights up the pipe, and takes in three short puffs followed by one big one. Pondering his words, he holds it in his mouth peering at the crowd, then finally blows out all the smelly smoke slowly. “...You and your mother…. were stolen from me around fifteen years ago.”

Rhemi quickly whips her head towards him with her eyes wide, staring at her father completely dumbfounded.

S-Stolen? She shouts to herself in her mind, her poor heart starting to beat a little faster by the second. By—by who?? What does this all mean??

He draws in another larger puff before continuing this obviously painful story, apparently being soothed by the tobacco. “You both were kidnapped.... By a terrible evil witch named Phara….”

Phara… he mentioned her before the other day. Why doesn’t that name sound familiar to me?? Why can’t I remember that name???

Squinting her eyes as if that would somehow help her remember as she follows with another question. “...W-Who was Phara? I don’t remember that name at all.”

“I was afraid of that. But I also could only assume that was the case as well.” He takes in a quick puff and nods solemnly before beginning again, bellowing out the smoke as he spoke.. “.....I ….I hired her to be your tutor. You were about…. ohhhh I believe it was seven or eight at the time?—It was shortly after I was promoted to head chamberlain to his Majesty's court and I became increasingly busy with my new duties. Anyways…. One day, you scared your governess half to death… She was teaching you handwriting. You apparently threw a tantrum and lit your parchment paper ablaze with your magic. According to some servants, she came out of the library screaming.”

Rhemi’s cheeks start to feel like they are burning, that sounds about right knowing herself and how angry she can get even now. Sometimes she still wants to destroy things now when she is pissed off…. Apparently some things never change.

“... And so...You needed to learn how to control your magic.” He continues, “... And mother suggested someone she grew up with.”

“.... Phara?” Rhemi knowingly asks, placing her hands on the cold marble stone she’s sitting on.

Martin nods slowly, waving his pipe around as he spoke. “Yes…. Phara….. She was a Throthian woman, a professor for some intellectuals. For a time, she taught foreign dukes, duchesses, and even a few princesses in Parka and she was highly regarded, even for a woman.”

Throthian… Now that sounds familiar… Where do I know that word from?

“... She even taught many commoners and the poor to read and write so they can make better lives for themselves… which didn’t make the king very happy…. But most importantly, she was also a witch. Apparently a skilled one at that, which is what you needed at the time. Your mother swore that she trusted this woman with her life, and that Phara was bound to secrecy and confidentiality.”

…. Wait—Secrecy??....Why secrecy??

He pauses for a second, and draws in another deep puff on his pipe, then lets it out. Quietly Rhemi covers her mouth and lightly coughs, the smell of the tobacco burning her lungs. “....Despite my better judgement—I felt at the time that we had no better alternative. So, I hired her to be your tutor. She didn’t know the basics of aristocratic life, such as playing classical music on the piano, needle point, edict, or anything like your previous governess, but she was what we desperately needed at the time… And I’ll admit she was much more intelligent. Years went by, your magic was under control and you were being properly educated…. or so I thought.”

“.... So you thought? What do you mean??”

“.... Well… it came to my attention that she was teaching you things no young girl of nobility should know.” He pauses once again and looks his daughter in the eyes very seriously and sincerely and Rhemi feels her heart tug down. “...Phara was teaching you terrible things... evil things, Rhemielia.”

Rhemi’s eyes fall down to the cobblestone street as she tries to swallow all of this information. ….I… I was taught… evil things?... Perhaps that’s why I didn’t bat an eyelash at the blood magic, yet Muriel was so bothered by it…. am I… evil at heart?? Rhemi wonders to herself, her heart tugging even more. Is that why I was such a jerk before I died?

“.... One night about a week after your twelfth birthday.... I came home a day early after going on a diplomatic trip with the king. I was bringing you a late birthday present… But to my surprise, no one greeted me at the gates, nor the door. Soon I realized that all the servants were gone, the chateau was dark and empty and something sinister was afoot.” Rhemi’s nails started to dig into her thighs unconsciously as she hung onto every word… This part was starting to sound almost familiar. “.... I made my way to the parlor, and I saw Phara shoving you and your poor mother out the veranda and was planning on throwing you both out off the balcony for god knows what reason.”

Rhemi swallows the lump in her throat hearing all of this for some reason its starting to feel a little more familiar. “.... We fought. It was her magic against mine…. Soon, the fourier was in shambles, the furniture and decor littered the floor, and I had her nearly beat… Then the next thing I see out of the corner of my eye that your poor little head was cracked open…. You were bleeding everywhere, barely standing straight in the corner of the room...”

Vision starts to become dizzy, Rhemi closes her eyes to stop her head from spinning. But as soon as Rhemi closes her eyes, the short glimpse of her small childish hands trembling and covered in blood come into her mind. It’s too vivid to have been her imagination. Her right hand instinctively goes to her forehead to the right side of her frontal skull where there are two stubborn cowlicks that never grew much hair. She couldn’t part her hair any other way because of them. It’s only at this very moment she can feel a slight dip in her bone that she realizes why that hair never grew past an inch or two… it was a hidden scar, it was small, no bigger than an inch now, however it felt like it went rather deep.

A quick twinge of pain returns to Rhemi’s temples for a split second and she shuts her eyes yet again and stifles her groan. Flames of the burning mansion in her dreams illuminates behind her eyelids—the other Rhemi, the dying phoenix, faint muffled screams and yells they all start to rush into her mind and ears, making her almost sick to her stomach. Focusing on her breathing, she diverts her thought away from her nausea not wanting to see the eel or pumpkin bread a second time. She dare not make a scene in the middle of the city and she stays silent, quietly suffering as her father continues on.

“I… I underestimated that witch, she was more craftier than I had originally thought. Somehow I found myself with a knife in my back. You were just standing there, looking paler by the second… So I ignored my pain and staggered straight over to you. I knew you needed a healer immediately with the amount of blood you were losing and—” Martin stops mid word, you can hear him choking back some tears with his voice cracking. “... I reached out to save you…. to pull you into my arms—but….” He softly trails off.

Rhemi closes her eyes again, and for a moment, she sees a large eerie hand slowly coming at her from the dark—As she opens her eyes it disappears once again.

In the corner of eyes, she can see as Martin pulls off his right leather glove for the first time, and she notices that he pulls up part of his long sleeve of his fancy shirt. Underneath them both hid a terrible looking old burn that started from the top of this hand, ran up his forearm, and wrapped all around his bicep. It was awful to look at, it must have been so incredibly painful. “... Phara proved to be craftier than I expected… she always was… I just wish I saw it sooner… That damn witch used the last bit of her magic to start a terrible fire, even put you in harm's way to do it.”

The fire…. Is that what the other me was trying to tell me about? The fire?? Is Phara that monster?.... I don’t know if I still want to know...

The nausea and dizziness subsiding as quickly as it came, she stared at her poor father’s arm a burning in her nose. “I’m…. I’m so sorry, Père.” She softly says with tears in her eyes as she gazes at the terrible scar seared into her father’s flesh. “Does it still hurt?”

“You mean…. This old scar?” He scowls with an eyebrow raised, appearing a bit puzzled.

Rhemi nods sheepishly, her large eyes beaming with such a somber empathetic expression.

Seeing this sincere look, he’s face softens and he even gives her a reassuring grin and shakes his head. “No… Not anymore, Pigeon.”

Gently she touches it with the tips of her fingers inspecting the shriveled tough pinkish skin. “Did you have a doctor's help? It looks like it healed rather well.”

“I did actually…” The Archmagister holds up his arm, opening and closing his fist, wiggles his fingers, and flexes his elbow to show that his range of motion was at least spared “... The doctors and healers had to use some unconventional methods to salvage all of my fingers and I regained feeling in my forearm… And it took quite a while to recover from all of it—I even had to learn how to write with my left hand... But honestly, I hardly remember it.”

He stops flexing his arm and hand and gently rests it back on top of his leg with the palm up. “... All the while I was healing, I was focused on finding you and your mother. I put a very high bounty on Phara’s head along with countless posters, fliers, and I sent letters to neighboring kingdoms everywhere. I hired men and the best bounty hunters all over the country to comb cities to the countryside in Charlès for you and your mother… But then, weeks turned into months, months into years, years into over a decade. Everyone all but gave up, the story of the Archmagister’s kidnapped wife and daughter became all but a tragic distant memory.... To some, it twisted into a bedtime story. About a demon witch who came in the night who lured beautiful mothers and their poor children out of their homes in the dead of night during the witching hour. The witch would kill them and drain all of their blood so she could bathe in it to restore her youth and power. Then she’d chopped the bodies all up into tiny pieces and cooked their flesh into a stew, serving it to the unsuspecting poor.”

Martin draws back his arm, rolling down his sleeve, donning his leather glove yet again. “But only few knew the truth.”

“That must have been just terrible for you…. You must have been so lonely.” Rhemi finally utters after sitting there quietly.

“... I never released how empty a house felt without you both in it.” He mumbles looking away into the crowd. He shrinks into himself as soon as those words leave his mouth as if he didn’t mean to admit that. But Rhemi could tell, that came directly from his heart.

Martin suddenly clears his throat quickly slicking back his hair, shaking himself out his thoughts and glances at his pocket watch. “Oh would you look at that. It’s nearly time for tea.” He straightens up and lightly pats her head and she tries her best to stop herself from sneering to be polite. “Come on then. Let’s get a move on, don’t want to be tardy now, do we?” He says standing to his feet and shaking out his cape.

“N-no… No we don’t.” Rhemi answers, sluggishly standing her feet as well brushing out the wrinkles in her shirt.

———————

The walk back to the palace was a bit more quiet, but Rhemi and Martin now seem to be comfortable with it and just enjoy each other’s company in comfortable silence. She’s somewhat used to it being with Muriel.

As the two made it back to the Palace, they were greeted by a handful of Nadia’s servants and an older man in dark green and blue that her father called Bartholomew. He must have been his servant; his uniform and disposition was very different from anyone else.

Judging from the lack of people around, Rhemi and Martin apparently had arrived a bit early and were both left in the common room for the Countess’ arrival. Bartholomew whispered a few things to Martin’s ear before very elegantly leaving the room.

Suddenly, Beatrix comes scurrying around the corner making a few of Nadia’s servants comically shriek in surprise. The grumpy badger quickly prances over to Martin and climbs up her over the armchair close by, then on to his shoulders.

“Making yourself a nuisance yet again I see, Beatrix.” Martin teases her and she chatters back.

“Good afternoon, Bea~.” Rhemi says with a smile as she puts her hand up to her to sniff. Surprisingly, the animal lets her scratch under her chin after giving her a few pumpkin seeds from her pocket. It’s unclear if she likes Rhemi or if she just likes the food she gives her. Either way, Rhemi likes her. She’s cute in a scruffy kind of way.

“Pardon me.” Says Pascal, a servant who took over Portia’s position after she was appointed to Chamberlain comes in with a bow. “The Countess wanted me to inform you both that she will be arriving shortly. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.”

A sharp scoff ejects out of Martin’s mouth. “Of course she’s going to make us wait….” He grumbles, and Beatrix growls a little at the poor servant showing her teeth. “I was invited into her own palace, haven’t seen the damn woman since I arrived and now she’s gonna make us wait?”

“My apologies, Sir Martin… She’s just returning from a Heart District reconstruction meeting.”

Rhemi steps in front of her father and before he could mutter another word and feeds his badger another pumpkin seed and she ceases her aggressive noises. “Thank you, Pascal. How’s your father doing?”

The servant smiles sincerely and cups his hands together. “Oh, great after that sleeping remedy you gave him!”

“Good! Any more chronic night terrors about jellyfish?”

Pascal laughs as she mentions that and Martin has a perplexed scowl on his face looking towards his familiar as if she knew the answer to that. “No! None since Muriel gave him that dream catcher over his bed. My family can’t thank you both enough for that.”

“Ooooh please, it was nothing! I’m just glad to hear he’s doing better—”

Martin stands in front of his daughter before she can finish her sentence. “—Yes, yes. That’s very nice indeed. Now if you wouldn’t mind...” The Archmagister says, shamelessly shooing the poor thing away, waving his cane guestering towards the door. “I’m sure your Countess would like you to return to her without dallying.”

Rather taken off guard by his rudeness, Pascal blinks blankly for a moment before bowing out and leaving the room. “Y-yes, your Excellency.”

Just as shocked as Pascal, Rhemi shakes her head staring at the back of her father’s head. Finally she taps on his back and her father turns to face her. “... You could have been nicer…” She mumbles to him a bit pouting.

He sighs, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really shouldn’t make chummy conversation with the servants, Rhemielia… It’s distasteful.”

The Archmagister walks around Rhemi towards the other side of the room to a small table by the fireplace, Rhemi’s eyes following him. “..... But I like Pascal—”

“—Well, Rhemielia, how about we play a game of chess to pass the time?” He says rather jollily (for him) gesturing towards the small table where the game is set up.

“Chess?..” She repeats him tilting her head. She can’t remember the last time she ever played the damn game and she sheepishly scratches the back of her head. “...Oh… I don’t really like playing. I don’t think I remember all the rules anyw—”

“Very well. I’ll teach you the rules again.” He replied, taking a seat next to the white pieces and setting his cane on the outside of the chair. “... We used to play when you were younger. If I remember correctly, you were getting quite good too, but never could quite beat me.”

“S-... Sure… why not?..” Rhemi reluctantly gives in, taking a seat behind the black pieces in the armchair.

Quickly, but thoroughly, her father explains the basic rules, and part of it is starting to come back to her as she stares at the pieces a bit longer.

“Any questions?” He finally asks as he pets Beatrix and she leans into his touch.

The apprentice gazes at all the pieces studying them carefully. Rook, king, queen, bishop, knight and….. and…. hhhhmmm…

Forgetfully, she points to the smaller pieces in the front. “These small ones… they're called, pawns or fawns?”

“Pawns. You were right the first time….. Are you starting to remember the rules, my little Pigeon?”

“Maybe?... It all sounds rather familiar.” Her finger gently grazes the top of the small cold piece and she has a sad frown. “I think I remember how.... I didn’t like how people treat these little pieces.”

“What?” He softly scoffs, an entertained grin growing on his lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well….. T-These pieces represent people don’t they? This is a strategy game…. To represent a war or battle.”

Baffled at that assessment, Martin gazes back at the marble pieces and shrugs. “I…. I suppose you are correct in that regard… what is your point, child?”

Rhemi looks back down finding the right words to explain how she felt. “In this game… pawns are dispensable, their movements are limited, unlike the other pieces behind them. But because there are more of them, they are more expendable than the other taller pieces.” She pauses as she looks as she picks up one of the pawns with a few chips and cracks in it, reminding her of her poor Muriel for some reason and the way Lucio used him for so many years for his own entertainment. “People really shouldn’t treat others like that. Some…. object that can be used and taken out with little to no consequences. They are just some game piece to them, not another person…”

Martin stops himself from mid sputter trying his best not to laugh out loud. “Well…. now your spouting off nonsense.” He mumbles as he leans his back into the lounge chair, crossing his legs and resting his hand on his temple. “... This is just a game after all—”

“—I would happily agree with you, Rhemi.” Nadia’s silky smoothe voice interrupts and Martin and Rhemi stand quickly to their feet slightly taken by surprise. Stunning and beautiful as always, she strolls into the room, her heels clicking the floor, dressed in her white and green outfit and her hair half up and half down. Pascal trailing behind her with a grin on his face. “... If you think about it that way, the game is rather horrible that some pieces are labeled as not being as important as others. But in reality, the good leader should acknowledge that all of the pieces are important, no matter how small or limited they are.”

Martin bows very traditionally and elegantly, Beatrix hanging off his shoulders looking lifeless. “... Countess.”

However Rhemi just casually rushes to Nadia and wraps her arms around her and he raises an eyebrow at her informalness and lack of edict or manners.

“It’s so good to see you! Thank you so much for lending me your tailor again!” Martin’s child so boldly and informally converses making him stunned for words.

The Countess just smiles and hugs her back with a bright smile. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you don’t mind, but Pierre let me get a sneak peak of it.”

“Ohh! Really???” Rhemi’s cheeks get all flushed and hot once again and she cups her face with her hands. “W-What do you think of it??”

“Oh, it’s just lovely, Rhemi. Just perfect for you. I can not wait to see you in it—Or Muriel seeing you in it for that matter.”

“Ooooo!! Realllly???? Thank you, Nadia!”

Suddenly, Martin clears his throat rather loudly, cutting through the two’s giddy laughter. “Countess Satrinava.”

The countess's eyes suddenly darken hearing the Archmagister’s voice and she forced back on a smile. “Ah yes… Monsieur Martin.” He approaches her with his chest puff out and she returns a polite curtsy. She then extends her hand out and he kisses to top of her knuckles, very diplomatic and traditional like. “...It has been ages, I haven't seen you since King Francis’ Spring ball six years ago… How have you been?” The Countess asks, fakely attempting to be interested.

“Quiet fine, thank you for asking.” Martin smirks back with a devious look. “... However I do fear that you haven’t been receiving my letters because I haven't gotten any back over the years. In fact, I have been around your city this morning, no flyers have been posted either.”

Nadia’s shoulder slightly tenses as if she knew and dreaded what he was about to say. Yet, she keeps a calm and composed face. “I do owe you my apologies. I have had other obligations this past year….. just a small war to save the world and clean up my city after pure evil attempted to rule our realm….”

“Ahhh…. yes… so I’ve heard... Most understandable. Things such as that are to be expected when a woman is in a position such as yourself… You really shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself, Nadia.”

“And what position would that be, Sir Martin?” Nadia remains poised and collected, but Rhemi could tell, she was getting irritated.

Martin smirks while placing both hands on his cane out in front of him. “One with great responsibility and little power, of course, Countess…. Ruling a city is a man’s job after all.”

An awkward tense silence takes hold for a moment and Nadia just flutters her eyes and fakely smiles a bit wider at his blunt rudeness. “... So nice to see you again, Archmagister. Do enjoy your stay.”

Eloquently, she turns her back to Martin tugging Rhemi along, giving her attention back to her champion, ignoring that rude and very sexist comment. “So, my dear champion. What brings you here? I do apologize for my tardiness. Especially when you had such ‘lovely’ company that also failed to show up for tea time yesterday.” She says that last part loud enough for him to hear.

“Well… ahhhhhh, we had tea scheduled for this afternoon—” Rhemi replies awkwardly.

The Countess shakes her head, instantly remembering. “Oh! Yes of course! How could I forget, I have sandwiches, biscuits, and tea being made as we speak—Oh, and your favorite~”

“Oooo—Agrippa’s strawberry lemon cake???” Rhemi says wiggling her hips excitedly.

Nadia nods with a bright smile, laughing at Rhemi’s pure overjoyed expression. “Portia was so kind to pick it up. Her and her brother should be here any minute, won’t they? Shall we have it on the balcony? It’s a lovely day.” She says looping her arm around Rhemi’s.

“Yes, but, ahhhh….” Suddenly, the apprentice stops her feet and politely pulls away. “Actually, I, ah, wanted to introduce someone to you, but I gather you’ve already met.”

Nadia interlaces her fingers together and rests her hands in front of her, wearing a rather confused expression. “...Oh?”

Her eyes follow Rhemi as she walks back over to Martin and loops her arm through his. “Nadia…. Sir Martin is my father….”

Nadia’s eyes widen, completely shocked. “Your…. father…?”

The Archmagister smiles at her with his nose high and stares at her condescendingly. “Ah yes…. Without any of your help I ended up finding my daughter myself—-But to my pleasant surprise she was alive. And in your city no doubt. What are the odds of the place that refused to comply with posting my wanted posters was the exact place where I found her.”

“Your…. His daughter?? The child who was stolen by an evil witch?”

Rhemi’s face suddenly flushes. Even Nadia knew about me?

“I…. I guess so.” She shrugs slightly embarrassed.

Nadia can’t help but flutter her eyelashes, gazing speechlessly to her champion. Finally she opens her mouth and looks toward Martin with a bit of guilt. “But…. you’ve been looking for her for—”

“—For fifteen years, seven months, a week, two days, and seven hours…. Yes…” Martin interjects with a sour and slightly angry, yet smug expression. “... But who’s counting?”

With Nadia completely gobsmacked and silent, Rhemi mutters. “I was hoping it would be alright if I invited him for tea time with Julian and Portia, so he could get to know my friends….. U-Unless of course that’s rude—”

“—No! No. It’s quite alright.” Nadia says shaking out of her stupor. “... Besides this afternoon was for you anyways, this may be the last tea you have as a single woman.”

“Oh you’re right. Didn’t think about that!... But it's better to ask right?”

“Of course.” Nadia looks towards Pascal as nods to cue him to lead them all towards the balcony.

“If you would follow me…” Pascal quickly says before whipping around to escort them all to the balcony.

Nadia hangs back staring at Rhemi and Sir Martin as they link arms having a terrible feeling about all of this and her temples start to twinge with slight pain.

—————————————

As soon as Portia and Julian arrive Rhemi greets them with a loving hug, but they immediately notice Sir Martin and a look of horror and confusion strikes their face. They only remember this man from the other day. But Rhemi explains the situation and they change their attitude quickly, happy for their friend for being reunited with her long lost father.

The Devoraks do their very best to be kind and friendly to the Archmagister, evening apologizing for their behavior (even though they did nothing wrong). Julian introduces himself with a small bow as he reaches his hand to offer to shake it. But Sir Martin slightly turns his nose up at the commoner and waits a grueling amount of seconds before finally taking his hand with only saying almost sarcastically, “Charmed…”.

Portia bows as well, and even puts donns her diplomatic hat being a chamberlain herself now, in attempts to easily converse with him on a relatable level. But the old magician just smirks and quietly chuckles at her attempt to presume that her position, a chamberlain to a mere Countess was anything like being a head chamberlain and Archmagister to a very wealthy and powerful monarch. Nevertheless Martin does at least take her hand and kisses the top of her knuckles and even says, “How do you do.”

As all four sit down and get settled and the tea is being brought out and being poured. The inescapable tension was relentlessly building with the silence. A servant pours the Archmagister’s tea and sets down a plate of biscuits in front of him and he mutters in an irritated manner, “Please, do wear gloves, girl. I don’t want to see your revolting cracked hands when you're handling my food.”

The poor servant’s face turns red with humiliation and she hasilty hides them behind her back. “Y-yes Sir… My apologies, Sir Alarie.”

Baffled at his rudeness, Rhemi, Julain and Portia stay quiet and glance over to Nadia, who stares at the old foreign diplomat with her head gracefully tilted with a fake, yet amused grin. “Oh, and how do you suppose her hands became cracked in the first place, Sir Martin? My servants shouldn’t have to be ashamed that they work diligently for a living. For you to judge her for it all the while you have a silver spoon in your mouth… Well… Should I just say that is rather ignorant of you.”

It appears that Martin was about to retaliate with a snide comment back to her but Rhemi awkwardly fake coughs. “Thank you Claudia. It looks amazing. Please tell the chef thank you.”

Her interjection to smooth things over seemed to have shut her father up for now and the terrible silence takes hold yet again. Rhemi stirs her tea, making it the way she likes and tries her best to fight the flush warming up her face from her father’s behavior. A wave of dread washes over her as she takes a small sip and thinking perhaps she made a mistake introducing everyone to him like this today. It was rather sudden and last minute after all, and she didn’t expect him to act this way. In her mind, this would have been more like a fairy tale or a book, a long lost father reuniting with the heroine’s life at the end of the story and they all lived happily ever after… But then again…. this is reality, and fairy tales and books are in the end, just that. A story. Things don’t anyway go the way you want them to….

Finally, the Countess decides to make some small talk asking Portia about the reconstruction progress of the Temple district and the tension starts to finally subside a bit. Martin even engaged in the conversation at least with the parts about Charlès’ part in supplying raw materials such as iron, bronze, and steel. The conversation then went to Rhemi with the wedding planning, then to Julian and how his clinic was going…

“Things have been keeping me busy, that’s for sure! Lately it's been a lot of springtime cold, but nothing too serious…” Julian goes on taking a long sip of his tea.

“Mmmm. Interesting.” Martin attempts to engage in the conversation for his daughter’s sake. “Tell me Doctor, are you married?”

“No, actually…” But perhaps one day I’ll marry the person I love.”

“Hmmm I’m sure she’s just lovely…. Hope she doesn’t mind having many late nights by the sound of your business.”

“...Err... ’He’ actually.” Julian corrects him with a faint bit of red on his face with a love stuck expression.

But the old nobleman really chokes on his sip of tea and he bats his eyelashes, perplexed. “....Sorry?”

Julian’s left eye darts back and forth to him and Rhemi, shrugging his shoulders. “Ummm- Errr…. About-?”

“You correct me… And said...?”

“Yes….” Rhemi jumps in thinking her father just didn’t hear him right. “Ilya said ‘he’. Asra, the one you met yesterday. White-ish hair, also a magician. That’s Julian’s partner.”

A snide and almost vicious scowl contorts the man’s face. “.....So….. You are having relations…. withhhhhhhh….. another man?” Martin inquires further as he gives Beatrix a few berries.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeesss.” Julian replies, not understanding the issue here starting to furrow his brow as well.

“So you have a….. male… bbbbooooyfriend?”

Nadia whispers to her servant rather quietly, helpless to watch as this all unfolds in front of her. “... Pascal, do bring us a bottle of wine.”

“....Asra actually prefers to use the term partner.” Rhemi adds bring her tea to her lips. “He doesn’t identify with gender specific roles. He’s male leaning, but he’s non-binary.”

“Oh, good god…” Martin grumbles rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Before Pascal gets too far, Nadia tugs his sleeve, and whispers again with her nostrils flared. “Better make that two….”

The Archmagister catches a glimpse of his daughter's saddened face. He adjusts his sitting and swallows his opinions… badly. “I ah, see….” He takes a sip of his tea slowly swallowing it. “So….. Which, ah, which one of you takes it in the ass then?” He quickly adds, unable to help himself.

“PPPPPPFFFFT—” Rhemi slightly sputters in her cup at that, her eyes wide.

Portia nearly drops her teacup speechless at this comment. If this was in a tavern she’d have thrown his ass down by now. But her brother just smiles, calmly placing his tea cup down with a hard clank and leans in closer to the Archmagister. Despite his smug smile, it’s clear that he’s deeply offended. “Well…. I guess that depends on the night. Because we use a schedule. At least we don’t have something constantly shoved up our—”

BOOM!! CHATTER CHATTER!--

“—Ooooooookayyyyyy!!” Rhemi loudly interjects slamming down both of her hands on the table making everything rumble and shake as she nearly jumps to a stand.

“—Well, Nadia, it has been loads of fun, thank you so much for having us—but would you look at the time!” She quickly rants, pulling her father’s chair out then tugging his arm and pulling him out of his chair. “My father and I wanted to check out the library for a few things together, isn’t that right?” She says slightly gritting her teeth. “Didn’t we??”

“Oh… yes of course… If you would excuse us.” He begrudgingly complies with her lie and he bows to Nadia. “Countess…”

Nadia nods her head with a forced grin. “Archmagister….”

With that, Rhemi waves her friends ta-ta for now and nearly drags her father into the palace and straight to the library feeling so terrible for her friend right now.

As soon as they approach their destination silently, Rhemi opens the doors with a wave of her magic and nearly sprints in and shuts the doors behind her. For a moment, she presses her back against the double doors and sighs feeling relieved that she managed to escape that terrible scenario with one of her best friends and her father. A stone cold silence washes over the large room while Martin casually strolls about talking in the splendor of the stained glass windows. Unable to think of a way to tell her father what he had said was unacceptable, she continues to stay silently and decides to walk over to a mountain of books she was actually borrowing about Parka.

“So… that went well—” Martin murmurs and Beatrix jumps off his shoulders and sniffs the couches scouring for some old crumbs. “Well, I am sure you had a reason to carry me away from good tea—”

Martin turns to look at his daughter, but he realizes she's no longer behind him. “R-....Rhemielia?”

Rhemi awkwardly rushes up a ladder, rummages through some more books in the section she was in before, trying not to look at her father. She doesn’t mean to give him a cold shoulder, but she really thought tea would have gone better. How could he have asked such a rude and homophobic question to one of her dearest friends? She loves that Julian and Asra are together, they just make sense in an odd way. Now that she thought about it, Rhemi didn't remember the last time she heard anyone mock someone else’s sexuality. Here in Vesuvia, and in most places of the world for that matter, people are incredibly open-minded and don’t bat an eyelash when someone is attracted to the same sex or both—No one really cares! And neither should they. It’s no one else’s business honestly.

Martin notices her silence and he walks over to where she is. “Well, Pigeon. Your er-ummm.….choices in friends are…. well… rather curious—”

“—Heads-up.” Rhemi knowingly interrupts, throwing down a book and Martin catches after a little fumble with a bit of shock.

With the room quiet yet again, he stares at her as she tries to ignore him for a while. The only sound being made is Beatrix’s sniffing and his daughter flipping through the pages then places a book back on the shelf.

Martin lets out a sigh, as he conjures his magic into his hand, making the book levitate in the air so he didn’t have to hold it. Feeling a little annoyed at the moment, he straightens his cravat on his neck and begrudgingly asks. “.... Something on your mind, Rhemielia?”

Rhemi then kicks the ladder making the wheels roll a few feet away to hunt for a few books in a different section.

Her father following her at the end of the ladder. “Rhemielia?” He repeats.

Finally she huffs heavily heartedly and replies. “... Père, you don’t ask those questions to people.”

Martin just looks up at his child and scoffs with a half grin. “.... And why not?”

“W-Well…. It’s just… ahhh— well....” Rhemi fumbles over her words as she continues to skim through the books looking for that particular subject about genetics. “...Despite his openness, Ilya might not want to converse to a stranger about his intimacy… No one ask you about your sex life. You shouldn’t just make assumptions about his—or any of my friends for that matter.”

Martin fidgets in his spot, unable to remember the last time someone talked to him like this. “Perhaps not, but my sex life didn’t involve another man, Rhemielia…. Forgive me for being intolerant, but it’s just not natural and disgusting-.”

“Disgusting to you perhaps! And how is it not natural?” Rhemi quickly responds with her nose in another book. “... Most herd animals spend their time with other males except for breeding season and engage in sexual activities. Nope… already read this one.” She quietly mutters that last part to herself as she returns the dud book back.

Martin’s brow starts to furrow as he stifles the rage in the pit of his stomach with the thought of that. He can’t believe his only child is defending such behaviors. But he keeps his feelings buried, but just barely. “Humans aren’t filthy animals, Rhemielia…. at least most aren’t... And I really don’t believe a conversation about copulation with my long lost daughter is appropriate—”

“Too late—” She adds, handing him another heavy book, and he makes it float in the air as she slides down the ladder and faces him very boldly. “If that's the case, then isn’t wearing shoes, or undergarments, or overly fancy capes made from dead worm cocoons also deemed ‘unnatural’?.”

“Rhemielia, I really do think this highly distasteful topi—” Martin suddenly stops, eyes wide in bewilderment realizing what she had just said. “I-.... I’m sorry, did you just say, ‘dead worm…. cocoons’?”

“Yes.” She says with a very as-matter-of-fact look on her face.

Martin just stares at her, completely confused and looks down at his expensive garment. “Wha—??”

Instantly, Rhemi grabs one of her books her father is floating in the air and quickly flips through the pages. “Do-too-doo…. Silkworms, silkwoooorms… Ah! Yes—Right here.” Rhemi then takes a hold of her father’s fancy cape and shakes it with one hand while handing her father an open book with the other. “... ‘Silk is made from inorganic fibers that are made from creatures called ‘silkworms’. They’re found in places such as Parka and Nopal and other northern places. Silk is harvested by the cocoon that the silkworm makes. The worms are boiled alive while incubating in a said cocoon, then the thread is extracted so it can be woven into fabric.’..” She points to the left page as she turns around. “It’s all on page 194, paragraph eight.”

Rhemi then pulls out a spare biscuit and gives it to the poor hungry badger. The happy little animal takes it and scarfs it down, she even allows Rhemi to pet her gently on the head some more, no hint of aggression or mistrust.

Bewildered and with squinting eyes, Martin hastily skims the paragraph then tilts his head. “Hmmm… Well… that’s ah, fascinating?... I…. I suppose—However…. I believe I fail to understand what this has to do with anything, my little Pigeon...”

His daughter turns back around dropping her shoulders, the look in her eyes are almost hurt. He can’t help but admire how much she looks like her mother right now. “....Those people you meet today are my friends, Père. Really good ones in fact. I see now that Charlès must not be as…open minded?—Like the rest of the world. But these are my friends. Asra and Julian are in love and I really do think they belong together. So, please, at least for my sake, be nice to them...”

“A rather steep request to ask when your friends have such terrible lifestyle choices. I don’t agree with, I don’t understand how you—”

“—That isn’t a choice, Father.” She interrupts, collecting the books out of the air and placing them onto the table next to Beatrix still licking her little claws clean. “... And you don’t have to understand it in order to respect it.”

“..... Rrrrrrrrrespect it?” He snootily sneer, both eyes half closed.

For one reason or another this expression on his face makes her uncomfortable. “Well… Yes… At least for me. They are all a huge part of my life.” She says. Then, rather dramatic and ominous pause starts to take residence in this tense conversation.

“.... Hmpf… My god what has that witch done to you?” Her father says as he shakes his head slowly.

The man’s icy teal eyes pierce Rhemi like a freshly sharpened blade and she feels it cut her to her core. Obviously what she said has upset him. The longer he stares the smaller and smaller she feels under his gaze. But this is about her friends after all. They are practically a part of her family and they have fought by her and Muriel’s side, the least thing she can do is stick up for them.

She pushes down her uneasiness and puffs out her chest like she always does when she needs the confidence. “I…. I think I’ve always been this way. Perhaps you just didn’t notice.”

Beatrix suddenly jumps off the table and hides underneath it abandoning her precious biscuit. And a strange, yet powerful tense energy fills the room. It feels like a low rumble almost like an earthquake, yet nothing in the room is shaking or rattling. But Martin’s cold eyes are fixed on his daughter, increasingly becoming more intimidating as he just glares, visually trying his best to keep himself from contorting his face in disgust.

At last his eyes leave his poor daughter and she can feel her body start to unclench as he glances to his gloved hands, clicking his tongue before speaking. “I fear that the sinful place has tainted you, my dear….” His face softens when his head lifts back up to look at her once again, a half fake smile on his face. “But, fear not, we’ll correct that in due time.”

Rhemi’s eyes flutter with that last comment almost afraid to ask. “....What do you—”

“—Oi! Rhemiiiiii!!” The large double doors creak open and Portia calls from the library entrance. “It’s four o’clock!”

“—OH! CRAP! I’m late again!” Suddenly Rhemi runs up to her father a quick hug and gives him a peck on the left cheek. She can feel his shoulder stiffen as she embraces him, taken back with her rather loving affection despite the tense conversation that was just had. But his face softens, icy glare deteriorates like snow melting away on a warm spring day as he hugs her back. “Sorry, I have to get back to the shop before five. I have a rheumatism potion I have to finish before a customer comes for it this afternoon.”

“Oh. I see. You’re a busy one I see...”

“Yeah. Guess so.”

“.... Could I see you tomorrow then, perhaps for tea? I must attend a trading meeting after that, and I believe Portia… I believe it was?... She will be there too.”

“Oh…. umm, Y-yeah… Sure! That’s fine. That’ll be great.” Oddly, she’s unable to stop the feeling like she’s fibbing when she says that, her eyes avert towards the large stained glass windows.

Perhaps, tomorrow won’t be as bad as this afternoon… She thinks to herself. Yeah—He’s just not used to people who are different from him, that's all—Yeah!.... He just might need some more time, get to know them all. I’m sure he’ll come around... Realize that he’s wrong about them.

“See you tomorrow then.” As she turns to leave, Martin keeps a hold of her left wrist. She pulls it back instinctively, but her father squeezes even harder, almost too tightly.

“Rhemielia, my child?”

She cranks her head back around, that sincere and pleading expression returning to her father’s face. “...Aren’t you tired of brewing potions for mere pocket change?”

What? What kind of question is that? Puzzled at this question she tilts her head and asks, “.... I’m sorry?”

“Do you really want to be working all your life in that dusty little shop?”

For a moment she ponders on this thought. She never thought about it to be honest.

As Rhemi tugs her hand once again to take it back, thinking a little harder on what he asked. Yet, he doesn’t let go. In fact, his grip actually tightens around her wrist, and it starts to hurt her. Her face starts to bead sweat, her temples pulsate with twinges of pain yet again and she feels her stomach drop. “P-Père, you’re—you're hurting me.” She whimpers.

Blankly he slowly blinks, as if he didn’t hear her.

“P-Père?.... My wrist… You’re hurting it.”

Finally he glances to her small wrist before finally letting it go. “Ah… Ahem—My apologies, my sweet Pigeon.”

Once Rhemi's wrist is finally released, she stands there rubbing it a bit with her opposite hand. Her skin slightly stinging from his firm grip and the friction of the leather gloves. She didn’t like it when people held her too hard like that, it made her feel so uncomfortable, like she was vulnerable and weak. But she never felt her head ache like that before.

After the stinging dissipates, she places her hands to her side and she sheepishly replies, “.... Well… the shop me and Muriel’s livelihood. How else am I supposed to live?”

An entertained chuckle erupts from the Archmagister’s lips and Beatrix climbs his arm and rests across his shoulders. “Why, back home with me in Charlès of course. You’ll live much more comfortably there. I want you to rejoin the court… back with me.”

Lost for any words, Rhemi stands there feeling like an explosion had just gone off in her head. “Back home… to Charlès?” She repeats.

Her father adjusts his cane, making a faint clank while he straightens back up, puffing his chest out and nodding. “You’re conflicted I see. I half expected you would be. It is a rather bold question for me to ask when we’ve only been reunited for two short days….. Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer me now… just think about it, Rhemielia.”

“O-.... okay. I will.” Uncomfortably she replies, her head now spinning. Finally she shakes out of her own thoughts and smiles awkwardly. “Goodnight, Père… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, my little Pigeon…. Think about what I said.”

“I… I will….” She mumbles as she shuts the door leaving the Archmagister alone in the library with his familiar.

Beatrix sniffs the air cautiously. “Master angry at Pigeon?”

Martin takes a deep breath as he tries to stop his anger and magic from overflowing. “This is all Phara’s doing, Beatrix... That fucking cunt of a witch… Teaching my child such disgusting tolerance for filthy homosexual deviants. That’s precisely why the rest of the world is behind Charlès, Bea. They let perverted cock-sucking fools muck about and run things… this city was nearly all in ruins just a year ago. And that is all because of these fucking liberal fools...”

Trying to calm his anger he takes one of the books Rhemi was reading through in his hands and it bursts into purple and green flames with his magic and he watches with gratification as it burns into dust.

“The world outside of Charlès is disgusting…..” He says picking up one of the books she was reading in disgust. “...It isn’t Rhemielia’s fault she doesn’t remember better… Surrounded by such books, people… and ideals about a backwards way of living. Deprived of morals or sensibility. I will just have to…. remind her of what the correct morals are.”

✨To be continued...

**April fools =P Sorry I had too! XD

Anyways! Thanks so much for reading my hot garbage! I hope you guys didn't mind the very very long chapter!

For all you thirsty trash pandas, the smut will be next chapter *wink wink*

**Agrippa (the baker’s apprentice) belongs to @victorscribbles

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel fanfic #the arcana fanfic #muriel x mc #muriel x apprentice #muriel x rhemi #the visitor~#part 4~#enjoy my hot trash #enjoy my garbage #for my hungry trash pandas #sorry for the long ass wait #april fools #arcana fandom #non smut

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johnsbleu · 4 years

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 87

warnings: nsfw hmh masterlist

It’s the day before your wedding and as happy as you are, you’re starting to get stressed out. John is being an absolute saint and doing everything that you’re telling him to do, but even you can tell that he’s a little nervous. He finished cleaning the living room floors, he swept the patio, and even tested the lights out to make sure they work. You don’t know who is more excited to get married: you or him.

You had ordered some cookies from the bakery down the road that were for your gift bags, and you also had some cupcakes made instead of a wedding cake. You and John will have a small cake that the two of you will cut, of course, but as for the guests, you felt it was a better idea to just get cupcakes.

You’ve just stopped by the bakery with Tess to get all of the desserts, and now you’re on your way to her in laws so she can get Finn. Since she’s been so busy with helping you out, she brought Finn to their house and he stayed there for the night. It’s only been less than 24 hours, but you can tell she misses him a lot.

“Okay, I’ll just go grab him and then I’ll be back out.” she says, hopping out of the car.

You watch Tess as she walks into the house, then you sit back a little and relax, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, “You’re getting married, but there’s no need to be so stressed out. Everything is going according to plan. Mom is here, Tess is here, John is a saint -- how the hell did I get so lucky?”

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and you pull it out to see that John has texted you.

By this time tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Wick. I can’t wait. I love you.

You smile as you read the text, then you text John back: I’ll be home in 20 minutes. I demand a big kiss when I see you. I love you endlessly, Jonathan.

The back passenger door opens and Tess hooks Finn’s car seat in, then she gets back in the car and exhales loudly, “I’m exhausted.”

“Good thing we’re done for the day.” you say as you back out of the driveway, “John has taken care of everything already. He’s been up since 5. Actually I’m not entirely sure he even went to bed.”

Tess laughs, “He’s so excited for tomorrow.”

“He is, but he’s also very nervous. I don’t know why, but John can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that I’m…” you look over your shoulder a little when you remember Finn is in the car, and Tess waves her hand.

“You can swear. He’s a month old, he doesn’t know what the fuck you’re saying.”

“Okay, well, John can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that I’m fucking crazy about him. I am head over heels in love with him.” you say, letting out a small laugh, “I mean, I get that he’s nervous. Last time he got married, he didn’t really get that life for very long.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Tess nods, looking over at you, “Have you written your vows yet?”

You grimace a little and shake your head, “No. I know that’s terrible, but I sit down to write them and my mind goes blank.”

“You could write them with John. That’s what Jimmy and I did. We riff off of each other, so it felt a lot more natural when we read them.” she says, shrugging a little, “You and John are doing them in private, so I guess you don’t even really need to write them.”

Exhaling loudly, you shrug a little, “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m sure John has his written, and I’m sure it’s beautiful and I’ll cry.”

Tess laughs, “John could read the recipe for how to bake a cake, and you’d cry.”

“Shut up!” you laugh loudly as you pull into your driveway. John jogs over to your car when you park in the garage, then he smiles and opens your door, “Hi, John.”

“Hi, baby.” he leans in the car and presses his lips to yours hard, then he leans back to look at you as he smiles. He laughs, leaning back in again, “One more.”

You rub your thumb against John's bottom lip and smile, “Your lip healed up nicely.”

“Yup,” John nods, leaning in for another big wet kiss.

“God, save it for your wedding night.” Tess teases as she gets Finn out of the car.

You smile when John winks at you, and you kiss him once more before you walk inside to see your mom and Jimmy sitting on the couch talking. He gets up and walks over to get Finn from Tess, then they all sit back down on the couch. John puts the sweets in the kitchen, then he grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap when he sits down on the chair.

“So, baby, do you have all of your little…things? You know, those things…” your mom says, snapping her fingers.

“Really narrowing it down there, mom.” you laugh, and you scoot back in John’s lap a little. “Oh, ‘something old, something new’, yeah, uh, no, I don’t have all of those things yet. Something new, I suppose would be my dress.”

“I gave you something borrowed. I gave you my bracelet that I wore on my wedding day.” Tess says, taking Finn out of his car seat so she can feed him.

Your mom smiles as she pulls out a small box, and she gets up to hand it to you, “This was the fabric from Grandma’s wedding dress. I unfortunately never got married, but before she passed, she gave me this. I figured I could sew it around your bouquet, or even into the bottom of your dress. Tess already had a piece for her dress.”

You pull out the white lace and smile as you rub it between your finger and thumb, “Thanks, mom. I love it. So I have something old, something new, something borrowed, but now I need something blue.”

John sits up and little, then he pats your leg so you’ll get up, “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you getting nervous, honey?” your mom asks, and you nod.

“A little,” you shrug as you exhale, “I just want everything to go well, and I just want John to be happy.”

Looking up, you see John coming back out with a smile on his face, and you furrow your brow a little when you look at him. He gestures to Bleu as he trots over to you, and you laugh when you lean forward to pet him.

“I got something blue,” John laughs, kneeling down in front of you and pointing at Bleu’s nice blue collar.

“Oh, yes, how could I forget my handsome guy?” you say, scratching his ears. “He’s our something Bleu.”

You’ve been clinging to John’s side all day since you know that the two of you won’t spend tonight together. You’re not very traditional and you don’t really care for all that stuff, but your mom said that the two of you shouldn’t see each other before you read your vows at least, so John will be staying with Jimmy.

“I hope the bed will be comfortable enough for you.” you frown a little, “I don’t want you to be in pain tomorrow.”

John turns around and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, “I’ll be fine, peach. Don’t worry about me. I want you to get some good rest tonight.”

“I’m going to be home alone.” you lean against John and frown even more. “Just me in this big house.”

“Not so fast!” Tess says, walking over to you, “I will be staying here with you, and you and I can get shit faced and do face masks, and we’ll have a dance party.”

You smile, looking over at her, “Really? You’d stay with me?”

“Of course! We can order a pizza and talk about John.” she says, nudging John’s arm. “You can tell me all of his secrets.”

Nodding your head, you laugh loudly and look at John, “Yeah, definitely.”

“Well, I can’t wait to hear what these two boys will tell me about my girls.” your mom says, and you cock up an eyebrow to warn John not to share too many details.

John smiles a little and hugs you tighter to his side, then the two of you walk down to the pavilion by yourselves to check it out. The tables and chairs that you’ve rented were dropped off earlier this afternoon and they’re already set up, thanks to John and Jimmy.

In less than 24 hours, you’ll officially be Mrs. Wick, and it’s kind of hard to wrap your head around. A year ago, you never even imagined that this is where you’d end up. You met John and instantly fell in love with him, which is understandable. Look at him!

John walks around the pavilion to make sure everything is set up perfectly, and you smile a little when he fixes a chair. He looks up at you and stops what he’s doing, and he stares back at you as you both start to smile.

“Tomorrow, Wick.” you say softly as you begin to tear up a little.

There’s a bit of pep in John’s step as he walks over to you and throws his arms around you. He lifts you off the ground and you wrap your legs around his waist as the two of you kiss passionately. You cup John’s face in your hands as you lean back to look at him, and your heart nearly bursts when you see the tears in John’s eyes.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” he whispers, then he kisses your cheek and sets you back on the ground. He pulls you closer to him, then he slides his hands into your back pockets, “I can’t wait to see you in your dress. I’ll never be able to keep my hands to myself tomorrow.”

You cock up an eyebrow, “Who says you have to? I’ll be your wife. Can you believe that? John, you’re getting married. I think I’m more excited for you than I am for myself. Well, I am pretty excited for myself. I can’t believe I’m getting married, and on top of it, I’m getting married to you. Jackpot!”

John cups your face in your hands, then he tilts your head back a little, “I can’t believe I get to marry you. I really lucked out this time.”

“I’m gonna miss you tonight.” you whisper as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss John, “Wish I could sleep in your arms. I hate that my mom convinced you that we shouldn’t see each other.”

“Well, we’re not doing anything the traditional way, we might as well have one tradition.” he laughs.

“We are doing plenty of things the traditional way, but I get it.” you roll your eyes playfully as you look away from John.

“I should go pack my bag.” John says, and he holds tight to you as he starts to walk back to the house. He turns around for you to hop on his back as the two of you laugh, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing him and tickling him.

You start to get off of John when he gets to the stairs, but he keeps a tight grip on you to keep you from getting down. When he gets into the bedroom, he finally plops you down on the bed, then he widens his eyes when he sees your dress is in a black garment bag hanging in the closet.

“Don’t peek!”

“I won’t, I won’t. I want to, but I won’t.” he laughs and pulls out a duffle bag to pack some things that he’ll need.

You watch John as he grabs out some boxers and a nice pair of dress socks, then he walks over to the closet and pulls out the garment bag that his suit is in. He opens it to make sure everything is okay still, then he squints his eyes at you a little when you lean over to look at it.

“Hey,” you whisper a little and look up at John, “Where do you want to read our vows? In here? Or maybe somewhere else?”

John sits down next to you and puts his hand on your thigh, “I was thinking that maybe we could do it down by the lake where I proposed. No guests will be here yet, so it might be kind of nice down there. The weather is supposed to be really nice too, so Tess can get some pictures.”

“Yeah, I want her to get some pictures of you seeing me for the first time.” you smile, feeling your cheeks turning red, “You’re gonna cry, I just know it.”

John nods his head, “I will, without a doubt.”

You lay back on the bed and close your eyes, and you feel your head spin a little. The bed shifts as John lays down next to you, and you open your eyes to look at him, holding his gaze for a moment before he leans over to kiss you.

“I wish I could marry you this very minute. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

You laugh, “Well, Jimmy is just downstairs.”

John immediately sits up and widens his eyes in shock, “Wait, can we?”

“So, you don’t want to have a wedding? You want to just sit on the bed and say ‘yes, Jimmy, I do take this wonderful woman to be my wife’?”

John flops back next to you and looks over at you again, “No, I want you to have the wedding of your dreams. I know you want this.”

“I do.” you nod, looking over at John, “But I would also be more than happy to sit on this bed right here and marry you.”

As fast as he can, John gets up and lays down on top of you, and you grunt a little under his weight. The two of you start to laugh when you hear the noise you’ve just made, and you’re almost in tears because you’re laughing so damn hard. John puts his forehead against yours as he laughs, then he presses a kiss to it as he gets off of you when he hears people coming up the stairs. You and John are still laughing as your mom and Tess walk into the room, and Tess looks at you both and smiles.

“What’s so funny?” Tess asks, and John begins to laugh again as he stands up to finish packing his bag.

“Just John being a goof.” you say as you sit back on the bed a little, “We were just talking about where we want to read our vows, and we decided on the lake since the weather will be nice and you can get some good pictures of us.”

Tess nods, “That’s a great idea. I’ll get some pictures of him when he sees you, then when you do your vows, I’ll just…back up a little to give you two some peace, but just know that I will still be taking pictures.”

“Sounds good to me, Tess.” John says, then he zips his bag shut.

“Got your toothbrush?” you ask, and John nods. “Toothpaste? Deodorant? Shampoo?”

“Baby, I’m just across the street. If I need anything anyway, I’m sure Jimmy would let me borrow something.” he says, cupping your cheek.

You lean into his palm a little more and smile when you look up at him, “Okay, just making sure.”

“And I’m not leaving yet, it’s 2 in the afternoon. I’m just packing my bag.” he says, sitting down next to you. “I actually was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight.”

Looking up at John, you smile and nod, “Of course.”

John smiles as he leans down to kiss you, “It’s a date then.”

Your mom is standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth to keep herself from sobbing uncontrollably, but she sniffles and causes you to look over at her, “Damn! I said I wasn’t going to cry yet.”

“Mom!” you laugh as you walk over to hug her, “Don’t cry.”

She shakes her hands a little and laughs, “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe my girls are both married. Tess has a baby, and I’m sure you won’t be far behind.”

“Well,” you shrug a little, “We hope.”

“They’re definitely trying, mom.” Tess says, and you jab her with your elbow, “What? God, you act like mom doesn’t know that you have sex.”

“Tess!” you shove her again and look over at John, who has hidden in the bathroom. You look back at Tess and give her a disapproving look, “I know you just do that stuff to embarrass John.”

She laughs, “It’s just so fun.”

John planned a nice romantic dinner for the two of you to help take your mind off of the wedding planning, and the restaurant he chose in the city is one you’ve never been to before. The atmosphere is nice and romantic with candles and dimmed lights, and there’s even a little dance floor with a band. Your booth is tucked away in the back to give the two of you some privacy, and instead of sitting across the table, John is sitting right next to you.

“This was really good.” you say, relaxing back against the booth. “Thank you.”

John nods as he continues eating, “Sorry, I’m starving.”

You laugh as you lean forward to take a piece of bread from John’s plate, “It’s okay, keep eating.”

“Here,” John cuts a piece of his steak and feeds it to you, then he presses a kiss to your lips, “It’s good, huh?”

You nod, “It’s very good.”

John continues eating for a few moments, then he sits back and looks at you, “Would you like to go for a walk down by the river?”

“Where we went on our first date? It’s not far from here.”

“Yeah,” he nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “What do you say?”

Looking up at John, you pop the piece of bread in your mouth and nod, “Sounds perfect.”

You and John are walking hand in hand along the river, and he stops to lean over the railing and look down at the water. There are a few boats on the river still and since it’s getting dark out, they all have their lights on. There’s one boat that’s lit up pretty brightly, and you smile as you nudge John.

“Looks like a wedding.” you look up at him and laugh, “Should have done a wedding on a boat.”

John laughs, “Someone would end up getting sick and throwing up all over everything.”

“Probably Jimmy.” you say, and John laughs quietly as he nods his head.

Leaning against John’s shoulder, you wrap your right arm around his bicep and intertwine your left hand with his. He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, then he smiles when you look up at him.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow.” he says quietly, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “I can’t believe you haven’t run away yet.”

“John,” you say with a sigh as you nudge him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods his head, then looks down at you, “I know, I just…still think this isn’t what I deserve sometimes. A nice peaceful life. A nice peaceful life with you most of all. I’ve always had this sense of normalcy that I’ve craved, and even when I was with Helen, I still didn’t quite have it because I never told her about my life.”

“Yeah, I understand that.”

John turns to face you and reaches for your hands, “You’re not a replacement to me, you’re not just someone I picked to help replace the life that I had with Helen. You’re someone who I want around, you’re someone I want to share my life with, you’re someone who I want to bring children into this world with.”

You smile as you nod, “I know, Jonathan.”

“Those five years that I had with Helen were amazing, and I can say that I really did love her. I did. I loved her so much, and I loved the life that she and I were building together. But she’s not here anymore.”

You look over your shoulder at the bench behind the two of you, and you pull John to sit down, “John, why are you saying all of this?”

“Because I want you to know that I’m marrying you. I am all in.”

You chuckle a little, “I know that, babe. Of course I know you’re all in. I don’t think you’re the type to do something if you’re not all in.”

John nods, then he looks up at you, “I know you sometimes wonder if I think about Helen and how my life would be if she were still here, but I don’t think about it. I know you very well, and I know you’re too good of a person to ever bring it up because you’d never want to hurt my feelings.”

“Well, yeah.” you shrug.

“I love Helen, but it’s not the same anymore. I can look back on my years with Helen and think about what a great time we had together. Even though I was with her for five years, it flew by. It was a fleeting glimpse of happiness, which is now proceeded by my endless happiness I have with you. And…” John looks down and takes a deep breath, “This might sound…bad, but here goes, I guess. If Helen…hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have met you. So, in a way, I’m thankful that that happened, and now I know how that sounds…”

You nod as you look at John, “I get it. You went through a lot, and it hurts and it sucks, but everything you went through, it led you to me.”

“As time has gone on, I think about her less. I still love her, and I always will. That will never change. Her passing seemed like the death of me as well, and the death of a life I so desperately wanted, but I walked outside one day and I saw the most beautiful woman,” he says, rubbing his thumb against your chin, “And I realized companionship, family, happiness, it was all something that I could still have. And I have it all with you.”

Sniffling a little, you look up at John and smile, “I love you.”

“I love you.” he says firmly, almost like he’s trying to get it through your head -- as if you didn’t already know John loves you. “I love Helen, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel about you. If all that has happened in my life hadn’t happened, you and I wouldn’t be here, and we wouldn’t be bringing a child into this world. We are together because we’re meant to be together. We are meant to bring a baby into this world. No matter the time, no matter what universe. You and I are meant to be. There’s no other explanation.”

You laugh a little, “Pump the breaks there, Wick. We’re not bringing a child into this world right now.”

John laughs as he leans back on the bench, “Well, we will eventually.”

“We have been having a lot of sex lately.” you say, sliding your hand up John’s thigh as he looks at you. “Yeah, we’re not pregnant, but we will be soon. I feel it in my bones.”

Chuckling softly, John wraps his right arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to his side, and the two of you look out across the city at the skyline.

“I know that you love Helen and I in different ways, and I’ve always appreciated how you’ve always made me feel special no matter what.” you smile at John and turn to him, “You’ve allowed us to create the relationship that we want. You’ve allowed us to fall in love in our own way. I have never felt like you didn’t love me, and I’ve never felt like you loved Helen more. To be honest, I never really thought about who you loved more, because I never felt like I was in competition with her in that way. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I totally felt a little competition.”

John laughs, “Oh, I definitely remember the night you found the picture in the safe. Very dramatic, Mrs. Wick.”

Looking down, you let out a small laugh, “I really love how much you loved Helen, and I know how big her impact was on your life. She helped shape you into the man you are today and I’m forever grateful for that. I wish she could be here to see how happy you are, which makes absolutely no sense, because if she was here, I wouldn’t be here, but you get what I mean.”

“I get what you mean.” John laughs, and he looks over at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. “She really would like you, baby. I think she’d be very happy for me.”

You nod, “There’s no doubt in my mind that she would be happy for you. I love you, John, so fucking much. I truly appreciate you, and I’m proud of you.”

John pulls you back into his arms and leans his head against yours as you look out at the horizon again, “Yeah, I’m proud of me too.”

After you and John got done with dinner, he went over to Jimmy’s house for the rest of the night, and he’s been gone for a few hours now. Tess came over to spend the night with you, and what started off as one glass of wine ended up as several glasses of wine and maybe a shot or two of John’s expensive whiskey. You’ve prank called John and Jimmy four times already, and Tess was laughing hysterically when you came out of your bedroom in one of John’s suits.

Your phone ringing catches your attention and you shuffle over to grab it to see John facetiming you, “Hi, John.”

John cocks up his eyebrow and laughs, “Are you drunk?”

You laugh and shake your head, “No, definitely not. I mean, I had two glasses of wine and a shot of whiskey, but I’m not drunk.”

“She’s love drunk, John.” Tess says, then she laughs hysterically at her own joke.

You look back at your phone and laugh, “Tess, on the other hand, will wake up with a massive headache.”

It’s almost midnight, so you’re sure that John is probably going to bed soon. You grab your phone, then you walk into the kitchen for a little bit of privacy.

“I was just thinking about you.” he says, trying his best to whisper so he doesn’t wake up anyone in the house, “I was hoping you’d be up so I can see you.”

You smile and nod your head, “I’ll meet you outside.”

Tess is laying on the couch as she falls asleep, so you tap her leg and wait for her to open her eyes, “Go lay in my bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

You watch Tess as she slowly walks upstairs and into your room, then you turn around to head out of the front. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve seen John, but you’re more than a little excited to see him since you’re getting married tomorrow. You slide your feet into your sandals, then you almost run down the driveway to see John. You smile wide when you see John standing at the end of the driveway waiting for you, and you run a little faster to jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist.

John laughs as he stumbles back a little, “You look so small in my suit.”

“I was being you.” you laugh, then you kiss John, “I was pretending to be Mr. Wick.”

“Yeah? And what does that look like?”

You puff out your chest a little and walk around, then you try your hardest to talk in a deep voice, “I love to bind books. My dog? His name is Bleu. He’s a good dog. Have you heard I’m engaged? She’s the love of my life. I call her peach all the time,” you stand on your tiptoes and put your arm on John’s shoulder, “Let me tell you, her ass…it’s out of this world.”

“Okay,” John laughs as he shakes his head, “I would never say that to someone. You look pretty cute though, peach.”

“Ah, I can’t take it anymore.” you whine loudly as you jump up so John can hold you, “I miss you.”

“You’ve been very clingy lately.” he laughs, and you lean back when he tries to kiss you, “No, no, I love it.”

“This is the first time in a long time that I’ve had to sleep without you.” you lean forward to kiss him, then you wrap your arms around him tighter, “Tess is actually sleeping in our bed.”

John laughs, “Figures.”

“I don’t like to be alone!” you laugh as you get down, “I’m gonna sleep on your side though. I can’t wait to snuggle into your pillow and smell your cologne and shampoo.”

The way John is looking at you right now, you already know what's going through his head: he wants to have sex with you. He always gets this certain look in his eyes.

Reaching out for John's waist, you pull him closer to you and tilt your head back so you can kiss him passionately and tide him over for a few more hours. The problem now is that you're getting turned on when his hands begin to explore your body. He wraps his arms around you and carefully tries to lay you down on the ground, but you stay frozen in place.

“Lay down,” John whispers as he kisses your neck.

“On the grass?” you ask, and John nods his head. “Isn't it wet?”

John sits down on the ground and puts his hand in the grass, “No, so come here.”

You hold John's hands as you straddle his waist, then he immediately starts to unbutton the front of your shirt. He pulls it open to see you're wearing a lacy black bra and your breasts are nearly in his face, which John loves. From the light of the moon, you can see John just enough as he pulls down the lace of your bra to expose your nipple. He kisses down your breast to your nipple, then he flicks his tongue over it slowly, and it elicits a small moan from you when he sucks on it.

“You love them, don’t you?”

John smiles, looking up at you, “You have amazing tits.”

“Tits.” you laugh as you look down at him sucking on your nipple, “I love that you always say tits.”

Keeping a tight grip on you, John lays flat on his back and moves your hair out of your face so he can look at you as you slowly grind against him. Placing one hand in the grass and one on John’s chest, you maintain eye contact with him as you slowly rub yourself against the growing erection in his pants. His hands move from your thighs to your ass, and he pushes you down on him so he can feel you more. You're not going to have sex with John on your front lawn, though it's very tempting. You press a kiss to John's lips, then you sit up straight and smile when he stares blankly at you.

“I should probably head inside.” you say, and you start to laugh when John pulls you flush against his chest again.

“Don't go yet.” he says, bucking his hips a little. You sit up as you roll your hips against John, and he closes his eyes and bites his lip. “No one can see us, it's pitch black out. Keep going.”

“And what? You're just gonna come in your pants?” you ask, and John smiles at you, bucking his hips under you. “Oh, you are? Okay, well, I can help with that.”

The friction between you and John as you roll your hips is turning you on even more, and when he slides his hands up your chest and onto your breasts, you begin to roll your hips faster. He pulls the lace from over your other breast and sits up to suck on your nipple as you continue to grind on him.

“Fuck,” you push John down and scoot down so you can pull him out of his pajama pants. You quickly pull his cock free from his boxers as he watches, then you pull your pants off and move your underwear to the side so you can sink down on him, “Yes!”

“Oh, shit.” John moans, then he shakes his head, “You're killing me, baby. You're killing me.”

It’s quiet outside, which means your voices will carry -- which means your moans will carry. As you continue rolling your hips, John sucks on his thumb, then he reaches down to rub circles on your clit, and you immediately press both hands to your mouth to muffle the moans.

“You wanna scream, don’t you?” John asks, sliding his hands to your waist to help you bounce up and down on him, “Fucking scream for me.”

“I can’t.” you manage to choke out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure begins to take over. “God damn, you feel so good between my legs.”

John chuckles softly, “You know the best thing about it being so quiet out here?”

“What?” you ask, breathlessly.

“I can hear how wet you are for me.” he says, and your eyes roll shut as you tilt your head back and moan.

Holding tight to your waist as you roll your hips, John bends his knees and begins to jerk them with no restraint. The sound of John's hips slapping against your ass gets louder the faster he moves them, and he wraps his arms around you tight as he lets out a thunderous moan and spills inside of you as you come moments after him.

You lean your head against John's chest and laugh, “That was the last time we'll ever have sex as an unmarried couple.”

“It was good.” he says, leaning up to kiss you.

“I did not think…” you swallow hard to try and slow your breathing, “We’d have sex in our front yard, but there’s a first time for everything.”

Wincing a little as you slide off of John, you hold tight to his hands as he helps you stand up, then he keeps his hand on your thigh so you don't fall over when you put your pants back on. He stuffs himself into his pants and groans loudly as he gets up, then he laughs when he sees the grass has an imprint of his body in it.

John looks down at his watch and sighs a little, “I’m gonna let you go so you can get some sleep. I can’t wait to see you in the morning, and I can’t wait to hold you and kiss you. I can’t fucking wait to marry you.”

“This is where I say something cheesy like, ‘I’ll be the one in white’.” you laugh as you lean up to kiss John. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jonathan. I love you.”

“I love you more.” he says, and the two of you slowly back away until your fingers lose touch. “I’m gonna wait here until I know you get in the house safely.”

You let out a small laugh and blow a kiss to John before you turn around to head up to the house. You get to the door and look back at the end of the driveway to see John still standing there watching you. Since it’s a little after midnight now, you don’t really want to yell, but since it’s so quiet out, you can hear John as he whispers loudly.

“Goodnight, baby. I love you.” John whispers loudly, and you smile as you wave. “Make sure you lock up.”

“I love you.” you blow him another kiss, and he waves as you close the door and lock it. You head upstairs to find Tess sprawled out on your side of the bed, which you’re more than fine with since you want to snuggle with John’s pillow.

After heading into the bathroom to go pee, brush your teeth, and wash your face, you change into your pajamas and carefully crawl into bed so you don’t wake up Tess. You pull the blankets over yourself, then you bury your face in John’s pillow and inhale deeply, smiling to yourself because tomorrow…you become Mrs. Wick.

taglist: @callmeglenncoco @ficsnroses @tnu-ree @keanureevesisbae @rubywantsafuitgummy @cheekybluefox @hylianhbu @re-florescer-a @tea-time-fun-posts @star017 @fangirl-fantasize @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick x you #Fic: Hold My Hand #john is so fucking sweet i love him so much and his big ol heart #i was gonna take out the sm*t but i didn't bc they're valid and they're allowed to have a little fun fdjsklfs;#I CAN'T BELIEVE THEYRE GETTING MARRIED WTFFFFFF #anyway i hope yall enjoy #thank u for reading it i love you all so much

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warmau · 5 years

Text

☆ lovestruck baker!au wonho

there’s nothing in this world that matters more to wonho than baking

he discovered the talent when he was young - testing it out in the kitchen beside his mother before gradually moving on to creating sweets from scratch himself

regular cooking wasn’t as interesting as baking

the feel of rolling dough, the assortments of fruit or jelly or other sweetness that he could incorporate, and of course just the look on peoples faces when they took the first bite of a freshly baked cookie

it made wonho giddy

so he chased his passions - and now, all that hard work paid off

because monbebe bakery was the most popular in the province!

due, of course, to the delicious desserts (and maybe just a little to wonho and co-baker shownu’s good looks)

but the point was this: wonho’s one and only love was baking

well,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,until you showed up that is

wonho had been pestered by friends and family alike: when will you get married? when will you take an interest in dating? when will you put down your apron and spend your weekends being social - not making up recipes at home?

the answer to all those questions was always a shy shrug, wonho didn’t know how to explain that “love” didn’t cross his mind

the only “love” he had to give was poured into his sweets

especially the beautiful custom cakes he created for other peoples magical moments

and then - like a stop-frame in a movie - wonho looked out of the window on a sunny summer morning

and saw you

with pure wonder you were looking at the sweets on display, your eyes sparkling as you scanned the row of sugar cookies, muffin towers, and of course elaborate cakes

wonho had been in the middle of icing a layer in the middle of a large tower that’d be used for a wedding cake

but - the icing fell from his hand, effectively ruining the soft sponge cake below it

and leaving the front of his apron covered in chocolate icing

you didn’t see it, too busy browsing the selection on the otherside of the window

but shownu, who’d been taking something out of the oven, had cocked en eyebrow

“wonho?”

there had been no reply - wonho’s eyes following you as you finally made the decision to enter the shop

bubbly and happy - finally placed directly in front of him and the counter

“can i ple- oh, you seem to have gotten chocolate on yourself?”

wonho had felt like an IDIOT, and he knew his whole face must have flared up like a blossoming rose, because he must have looked so silly

but it had made you giggle

and no music, no sonata could compare

you became a regular after that

coming in when you had a spare moment, always trusting wonho for treats you could bring to work or give as gifts on holidays

sometimes you’d linger around and talk with him, wonho managed to pick up little details

your profession, your hobbies, your best friends name, and of course your favorite sweets

and even on the days you didn’t usually come in - wonho would always have your favorite cookies in stock

because what if you did come in? how could he not have your favorite?

sometimes the thought crossed his mind that he could,,,,,ask you to stay a little,,,,,,,,,wait till he closed up shop and he could take you out?

or that maybe he could slip his number on the back of your receipt

but

he couldn’t do it

what was holding him back? he wasn’t sure,,,,,,

and neither was shownu - who quietly and surely could tell wonho had a big, sweet tooth crush on you

but wonho is ok - baking makes him happy, and seeing you for just five minutes does too

so when you come into his store - bounding right up the corner with a big smile - wonho already feels the sunlight on his skin

“wonho! i have a very special order today~”

special order? tell me - ill do anything for you,,

“o-oh? what is it?”

“well there isn’t anyone else in the world who could do this for me,,,,,,it has to be you!”

there isn’t anyone else in the world?

wonho scratches the back of his neck

“well - ill do my best!”

you lean over the counter and wonho thinks his heart really is about to jump out of his chest

“a wedding cake!”

this time his heart nearly stills

“i need you to make me a wedding cake!”

you hear the sound of something drop, looking over your shoulder to see shownu give a small bow as he gathers up the trays splayed across the floor

you turn your attention back to wonho

you don’t see it - but the color drains from his face

the glittering brown of his eyes disappearing into dark, almost black clouds

“w-wedding cake?”

“yes! please make it as beautiful as possible, the event is in two weeks! and don’t worry about the price i’m willing to pay anything because i know it’ll be perfect from your hands!”

wonho nearly doesn’t feel you reach out and touch him lightly

you give him that smile - the one that’s engrained into his brain - the one that used to make it feel like his heart was being flipped upside down

but this time

it just hurts

you check your watch and start talking about how you have to go, but you’ll be back in two weeks to pick up the cake

wonho knows he nods, but it’s mechanical and when he hears the bell of the door as it shuts

he swears his knees must give out

wedding cake? you’re engaged? you’re getting married? since when? to who? who is he? who is the luckiest man on this planet and why - why - why isn’t it -

wonho opens his eyes when he hears shownu calling his name, shaking his shoulder lightly

he turns his head and can tell that even though shownu is usually expressionless, that this time there’s apparent sympathy in his eyes

“are you ok?”

i have to make a wedding cake..........for the person i love?

wonho convinces himself he can battle through it - he has to.

what could hurt more than you being someone elses? him letting you down.

so he starts trying to think up ideas - a cake perfect for your wedding

flowers? because they’re sweet and colorful - white icing? because their innocence wraps me up in warmth? layered cake? tower cake? how large?

it’s frustrating - every time wonho starts to bake he feels like breaking something

the icing doesn’t come out right, the base of the cake tastes disgusting, there are problems at every corner

wonho finds himself with his flour-covered hands in his hair squatted down in the kitchen

“who is this guy they’re marrying? why haven’t i ever seen him around? is he tall? is he thin? maybe my muscles put them off? is he handsome? is he rich? who is he?”

shownu watches his friend unravel - wonho spending hours on end trying to make this cake and failing each time

because he’ll try to decorate it but his hands shake and ruin it

“congratulations” - he can’t even finish icing that stupid word on

because truth be told how can he congratulate you? the you who has made his heart swell every day since he met you

“you’re an idiot wonho” he mumbles to himself “missed opportunities is all you’re going to remember when they’re walking down the aisle.”

those two weeks drain wonho dry - he goes through every stage of heartbreak possible - and it’s even more embarrassing because you’re just a regular customer at his bakery

you’re not his childhood love, or a highschool sweetheart that’s always been his infatuation

you’re just the most beautiful person he’s ever seen pressed up against the window of his bakery

and even though he loves baking - these two weeks have made him hate it

but he finishes the cake and he places it on the counter - weak sigh at the lopsided cursive but at this point this is his best

he waits - waits - waits - waits - and ten minutes before closing you show up

you’re out of breath, “sorry - i r-r-ran here!”

you explain, wonho forces with all his might, a smile onto his face

“here is the cake.”

you look at it, observing from side to side and then grinning up at him

“perfect! as always! how much do i owe you?”

wonho feels a bitter taste in his mouth as he says,

“nothing. consider it my wedding gift to you and your husband.”

this is my goodbye to you too, it’s too late for us - just take this cake and stop torturing my-

“my husband?”

you blink, then shake your head feverishly

“no no no - this is for my friend, she’s getting married and i - i -”

you suddenly get shy, looking everywhere but at wonho

“i don’t even have a boyfriend-”

you feel a sudden gust of wind, then the sound of something going ‘splat’ against the floor

wonho pushes past the counter, the cake toppling over behind him as he pulls you into his arms

you’ve never hugged wonho - let alone even shook his hand - so you’re surprised

but ,,,,,,,, more than that,,,,,,,,,, your heart can’t stop beating like crazy

“thank god”

he mumbles against your hair and you blink “w-w-wonho?”

he pulls away, delirious with happiness, the dizzy feeling spiking his confidence over one hundred

“how do you feel about dating me then?”

on any other occasion, wonho would have not been able to say that line - but right now - it looks like cupids arrows has logeded itself directly in his back

and he’s going to ride this feeling out

“wh- yo- you like me?”

“so much, i like you so much.”

the confession makes you flush - but really,,,,,you can’t deny it,,,,,,,,you’ve always liked him too

to be quiet fair, you weren’t even THAT big of a sweets fan, you just always stopped by because well - because of wonho

“i - “

but then your eyes cast over his shoulder to the ruined cake

“the cake!”

he turns, paling

“oh no - i was just so happy-”

“not to worry.”

you two turn, shownu’s booming voice distracting you to as he pulls open the large freezer behind him

stocked full of pre-made cakes

“we have a very large selection of cakes as backup.”

you stiffle a giggle as wonho struggles to say something

shownu decides that fine, he’ll say it for him

“ill wrap this cake up. in the meantime, you two should plan a proper date.”

with that, shownu disappears into the kitchen

you look up at wonho and he looks back

“w-well if anything, do you want to be my date to this wedding?”

“and get to walk you down the aisle - of course - i mean yes, be your date haha , yes of course,,,,,,,,”

shownu doing a victory dance in the kitchen: finally - oh shit lets not drop another cake

#monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x au #wonho scenarios #wonho imagines #wonho au #member: wonho #sfw #mx aus #mx imagines #mx scenarios #monsta x #wonho

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healthycookingnfitness · 3 years

Text

How to make a perfect angel food cake

introduction about Angel Food Cake

Angel food cake is a sponge-like cake made from egg whites, sugar, and sometimes flour. The whipping of the egg whites creates air bubbles that give the angel food cake its texture.

Angel food cake can be made from scratch or from a pre-made mix if you are in a hurry, but homemade angel food cake has a more delicate texture with less floury taste than the commercial mixes, so I highly recommend the real thing.

This cake is perfect for birthdays, anniversaries, special occasions, and weddings because of its lightness and wonderful texture.

Ingredients

2 cups (sifted) cake flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups sifted confectioners sugar (3 3/4 oz.)

1 cup egg whites

1 teaspoon cream of tartar Soupçon of vanilla flavor

Cooking Procedure for angel food cake

Angel Food Cake Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 10-inch tube or Bundt pan dust with flour and tap out the excess. Sift together the flour salt, and 1 cup of the powdered sugar twice.

Set aside. In a large bowl of an electric mixer, beat the egg whites on medium speed until they begin to thicken. Beat in the cream of tartar and continue to beat at high speed until soft peaks form.

Gradually add the remaining 1 3/4 cups of powdered sugar and beat at high speed until stiff, glossy peaks form. Add vanilla flavor to the egg whites and mix well.

Sift about one-third of the flour mixture over the egg white mixture in 4 batches, folding them gently into eggs using a rubber spatula after each addition. Repeat with remaining flour mixture in 2 batches, again folding them gently into eggs.

Do not stir or beat any more than necessary; batter will fall when turned out onto a cake pan for baking. Transfer batter to prepared pan and spread evenly with an offset spatula.

Bake in preheated oven on middle rack 25 minutes or until top springs back when lightly tapped with fingers; do not overbake. Turn the pan upside down onto a wire rack or heatproof serving plate that has been coated.

if you like cooking spray; the cake will drop right out of the pan and cool to room temperature upside-down.

This process ensures that the delicate top crust does not get soggy from being left in the pan while cooling. Run along, sharp knife around the edges of the cake to loosen it from the sides of the pan before unmolding.

Cake can be served directly from a bundt pan for an informal buffet table presentation, or unmolded and sliced as directed above for a formal presentation.

Tip

To slice angel food cake:

Slices should have no more than 4 layers (2 is better) when cut. When the cake is still warm from baking, use a serrated knife to trim off the top and bottom crust.

Place cake upright on a serving plate; cut a thin slice of cake from each end first for even slicing. Place a piece of wax paper or parchment under the cake before cutting so that the crumbs are captured on paper instead of going back into the bowl.

Let slices stand at room temperature 15 minutes before serving to allow them to firm up for easy handling. Angel Food Cake is best eaten on the day it is made, but if it must be stored in an airtight container wrapped in plastic wrap, store it somewhere cool (not the refrigerator) for up to 4 days.

Enjoy and Serve the Cake with Friends and Family!

FAQS

1-Why is my angel food cake dense?

Your angel food cake is dense because it is too thick or your oven temperature was too high. Angel food cakes bake quickly at high heat to set the egg whites and to achieve a light texture, so be sure to keep an eye on your cake as it bakes.

After 25-30 minutes of baking, insert a toothpick in the center of the cake; if it comes out clean, then it is done. You should not overbake this cake since they become denser as they cool, but you want them to come out of the oven with enough height that when you turn them upside down onto a wire rack/serving plate (which has been covered and coated with cooking spray).

they will stay upright without falling over. If the cake is too thick, it will not have enough structure to stand upright and will fall over or fail the toothpick test when done.

2-Is there an aftertaste in my angel food cake?

Yes, because of the absence of fat in this type of batter, your angel food cakes may taste a little like egg white without any other flavors added. To decrease that taste, simply add about 1/4 cup more sugar to the recipe for every 3 eggs.

This will make them sweeter and potentially less likely to be picked up for dessert by a guest who does not normally eat sweets (picky children or health-conscious guests)

3-How do I store angel food cake?

This is a delicate dessert that lasts for only 3-4 days. After you make it, be sure to wrap it tightly in plastic wrap and then aluminum foil (to prevent water from condensing on the surface).

Place it in an airtight container and put it somewhere cool; the refrigerator would be fine, but not necessary. Avoid keeping them near foods with strong odors to avoid absorbing any undesirable flavors.

4-My baked angel food cake fell through my bundt pan when I took it out of the oven because I forgot to grease/spray with cooking spray. Did I ruin my baking pan?

Angel food cakes are more delicate than other cakes so greasing your pan may be necessary to prevent this from happening.

This is especially true of the bundt and fluted tube pans since their designs allow the cake batter to fall through any nooks and crannies on the outside of these molded pans.

If you didn't have time to grease your pan, gently run a spatula around the edge of your pan so that there is enough excess cake batter clinging onto the sides to form a barrier between the hot pan and delicate cake as it cools.

Be sure to take your angel food cake out after 25-30 minutes (at 325 degrees F) so that it has not overbaked or cooled too much before turning it upside down for cooling.

5-How do I bake more than one angel food cake at a time?

If you are baking more than one angel food cake, you can either increase your oven temperature to 350 degrees F and rotate the cakes after 10 minutes or reduce your oven temperature to 300 degrees F. Be sure not to use a dark-colored pan if you are doubling the recipe since it will be difficult to gauge when they have finished baking in a dark-colored pan.

6-I don't own a mixer how else can I make an Angel Food Cake?

You can certainly make an angel food cake without using any tools other than mixing spoons or even willing hands if that is all you have! Just whisk the egg whites first, then add the sugar and continue stirring until they are stiff. Then, fold in the flour and other ingredients by hand.

This will take a little longer than using an electric mixer to beat them into submission but you will come out with great results!

7-I forgot I had already made this cake yesterday and put it in a Tupperware container for storage after cooling upside down. Is it still okay/edible?

If it has only been one day since you made your angel food cakes (which is the maximum recommended time for storing these delicate desserts), then you should be fine as long as it wasn't refrigerated or covered in anything that would ruin them during that time period.

However, if there are any funky odors coming from your Tupperware or the cake itself looks a little strange, then it is better to start over and make a new one. Remember that angel food cakes are best eaten on the same day (preferably) and in the evening after they have cooled all the way down!

8-Can I add flavoring/sweeteners to my angel food cake batter?

Yes, you can flavor angel food cakes with fruits after preparing them by combining 2 cups of sliced fruit with 3 tablespoons of sugar and allowing them to macerate for at least 2 hours before folding into your prepared angel food batter.

You can also add other flavors like vanilla extract (1 teaspoon per cup), almond extract (1 /2 teaspoon per cup), or citrus zest (1 tablespoon per cup). Avoid stronger spices like cinnamon and nutmeg that will not compliment the light, airy qualities of this cake.

You can also add 1/4 cup sugar for every 2 teaspoons of extract you are using to sweeten it up a bit. Remember to fold these ingredients in by hand instead of beating them into your angel food batter if you do not own an electric mixer!

If you want to amp up the sweetness in your cake, then go ahead and sweeten it with 3/4 cup granulated sugar per cup of egg whites; however, be aware that any more than that may compromise their fluffiness.

9-How many cups of egg whites do I need to make an angel food cake?

You will need a minimum of 12 large eggs (yolks only) or 15 small ones. If you are using meringue powder, then you will still want to use the same amount of fresh egg whites that is required in the recipe but be sure to add 1/4 teaspoon per cup for your amounts (i.e., if your recipe calls for 2 cups of egg whites, then add 1 teaspoon of meringue powder).

10-My Angel Food Cake rose nicely in the oven during baking then collapsed when I took it out; what happened?!

There are several reasons why this might happen aside from not having enough flour in your batch; however, since you are using a prepared recipe, I will go over some tips to help avoid this from happening:

Make sure that your pan is the right size for the batter but not too big so that it doesn't overflow. This might mean removing the bottom tier of a two-tiered angel food cake pan if you have one!

Use them immediately after taking them out of the oven and do not cover or store them until they have cooled all the way down (at least 2 hours).

Double-check that your oven temperature is correct for whatever recipe you are using (or purchase an oven thermometer to be sure!).

Read More About How Can you make Perfect Cake At Home

Conclusion

If you’ve never made an angel food cake before, we hope this blog post has been helpful. We want to help make your baking experience as easy and fun as possible with these tips!

Angel food cakes are a delicate and light dessert that will impress your guests if you serve them well. I hope this guide helps answer some of the most common questions about making these cakes as well as inspire you to try one out for yourself!

One final tip is that if you have a recipe for something like chocolate fudge on hand, sprinkle some of it over the cooled frosted cake for added flavor. Happy Baking!

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mountainleafuniversity · 4 years

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Linneaus: Undertow Pt 1

Artwork by: @warrior-kitty

Special thanks to: @gemellath

This story is rated PG-13 for content. You have been warned.

It was a beautiful day for the citizens of Charluftton as the Wild Waves Festival was in full swing. The plaza was full of vendors selling t-shirts and frozen ice, the bar was full of all kinds of live music, including bands like Boil, The Lost Tapes and Art House, and even the beach was full of fun events such as volley ball, sailing, and even a beach 5k obstacle course. Boaters were out fishing and tubing and just all around having a good time. However, for the shapeshifting vixen, she was lying home in bed wearing her work cap, a buttoned jacket and khaki work pants. On her nametag was the name “Kit Rouge”. She was a shy fox who was diagnosed with a disorder that caused her to have trouble controlling her shapeshifting powers, and today, due to the events that occurred at work, was no exception.

“All I did was get grossed out…” she muttered. “Yet of course I turned into a fox bug like I always do when I’m disgusted. And of course, everyone thinks I’m too old for this to happen. I can’t control it…”

Kit had a busy day at work with lots of fishermen and families out buying things from pool toys to bait and couldn’t even stop the lines from the shoppers just itching to get their stuff and hit the water. She swore if she saw another sailor she would transform into her angry form and chuck them off their boat.

Her cellphone rang, and Kit answered.

“Hey Vixie!” Coin started, wearing sunglasses. “Work was rough today wasn’t it?!”

“Oh! Hello Coin! It was rough! Like the time that giraffe all jacked up on cocaine went up to you and-“

“Didn’t you remember our plans for today?!” he interrupted.

“What plans?” the khaki-clad kitsune asked.

“To go tubing with us!” Rio said.

“But I thought we were going to go to the beach!” Kit cried. “I want to lie down, get a sun tan and eat all the cannolis I can think off!”

“The beach is tomorrow and the next day!” Coin replied.

“Just get changed, pack some sandwiches and don’t forget the tube! See you in a half an hour.”

With that they hung up.

Kit thought about it for a second and decided to just go embark with her friends on the boat.

The young vixen put on a yellow one-piece swimsuit and covered it with a Zelda t-shirt and her khaki shorts from her work uniform. She then put on her special waterproof contacts, so she doesn’t turn her friends into her clones again. Finally, she made her friends sandwiches to eat on the boat while they hung out. Kit opened the garage to find Coin’s boat tube and sighed, knowing that none of their days out ever go well.

When she arrived, she saw her jackelope friend in his salmon trunks, purple t-shirt and sunglasses, with Rio harvest mouse perched on top of his antlers. She was in a little sailor’s outfit with a cap.

“First mate Rio! Ready to embark!” she said with glee.

“Hey Kitty!” Coin blurted. “Just put the tube in the back, were going to go fishing for a little while.”

“I thought you had a fear of fish.” Kit replied.

“My dad wants us to get fish for the Braun’s fish recipe!”

“You hate the taste of fish as well!”

“I’m getting paid if I do this.”

“Fair.”

And with that, they entered the boat.

Kit untied the ropes from the hooks, while Rio and Coin brought the buoys into the boat.

“Hey um Kit…” Rio said. “I think you might want to put your sunhat in the cabinet, so you don’t lose it.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Kit said without concern. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

As Coin and First Mate Rio pushed it to thirty miles an hour, Kit began to scream as her body grew more multicolored fur, whiskers grew, and her body became feline. The scared cat held onto her hat as hard as she could while the boat tore through the river.

“I retract my previous statement!” screamed Kit. “This is way too fast! My hat’s gonna fly away if you’re not careful!”

“Too fast?” replied Coin, seemingly unaffected by the rip-roaring speeds they were currently travelling at.

“No way! Calm down, will you? If you didn’t want your hat to get blown off, you should’ve at least stored it in the compartment.”

Begrudgingly, he and Rio slowed to boat down so that Kit could hand the hat over to Rio.

“Honestly,” she said, “We should’ve insisted on it in the first place.”

As they continued to sail, the trio began to develop an appreciation for the architecture of the waterside houses. Rio would wonder aloud who lives there, or there, or there? Enough time had passed for Kit to have calmed down; one tug of her tail later, and she was back in her fox form.

“Right then,” she said, retrieving her hat at last, “What are we up to first?”

“Sandbar, of course!” replied Rio as the boat sailed towards the spot where the ocean embraced the shore.

The little stretch of sand was surprisingly full of people sunbathing, dipping their toes in the water; anything to make the most of the fresh heat.

“Oh, nice! We can all have a game of keepie-uppie!”

Kit casted her line out towards the water and waited. Soon enough she had something on her line, reeling it in as hard as she could to discover she had caught a gar.

“Nice!” she said, pleased with herself.

“Hey, look guys I caught this cool long-billed thing!”

The crowd looked over, but only saw the fish worth jack squat and laughed.

Kit became slimier and turned grey, with white hair growing until she was now her sad form, the fox slug Granny.

“Dang nabbit!” she muttered to herself before casting the line once again…only to this time catch a sea bass…

“Did you bring the football?” Rio asked.

“Sure did!” Coin said, holding the old pigskin.

“I said the football!” Rio growled.

“This is a football!” Coin responded, perplexed.

Soon an argument erupted between the two of them, until they decided to just toss the ball around. The jackelope through a spiral throw towards Rio, who then responded by nailing her personal perch in the chest. Coin got up, picked the football off of the bar and tossed it again. After a while, he was getting nailed in the face, chest, and even in the groin by the sailor mouse’s throws. He called for a time out to see Granny still trying to catch fish.

“Hey bud.” She said. “Could you give my tail a pull?”

Coin turned her back into Kit.

“Thanks”

“So what’s going on here?” Coin asked.

“I”ve been catching nothing but sea bass and gar…”

Coin looked at her in disbelief.

“Kit there aren’t any sea bass in here…you mean sea trout.”

Kit blushed a little.

“It’s alright, you caught like five of them already!”

So, they waited and caught a decent amount of fish to put in the cooler.

After sunbathing for a bit, the Trio decided it was time to go tubing. They packed up their chairs, their belongings and the fish, which were placed in a water tank on the back of the boat.

“Alright guys!” Rio shouted with excitement. “Time for tubing!”

Coin took off his shirt and glasses, leaving him with only his trunks, while Kit dressed down to her swimsuit. Both of them then put on life jackets and hopped onto the tube.

“Um…” Kit said, somewhat nervous. “I’m not sure I want to do this…”

“Oh we’ll be fine. I’ve gone tubing dozens of times.”

“Get ready you guys!” First Mate Rio shouted as she pushed on the gas. She pulled it forward and the two cryptid creatures were yanked screaming. They narrowly missed other boats and shores, but soon the wild mouse got carried away. At a wedding reception between two mice on a dock, the two burst through and destroyed the dock the mice were on, leaving Coin with a face full of tiny wedding cake, and Kit with the groom in her mouth. Next, the two of them flew over another boat’s wake, which was sunk as soon as the tube landed on it. Finally, they neared an exclusive gated community residence, and ended up going through the yards of the tenants. Statues, trees, and rocks pelted them with pure bruises and scratches. At one point, they broke in through a beaver business man’s house and destroyed his kitchen, his teenage daughter’s bedroom, and his priceless wine cellar.

After breaking out of the last wall, a ramp was seen straight ahead for the duo, and with the ramp, Kit flew off of the tube and belly flopped into the water. Coin, luckily, stayed on, but ended up getting dragged through marsh grasses and oyster beds. He was all chopped up, so when Rio stopped, Coin fell into a million pieces. He healed himself, as always when he got this injured, and pulled into the boat.

“Hang on, where’s Kit?” the crazy driver asked.

From a groan they heard, the two saw her bobbing in the water. Coin spun it back around to collect Kit, who wasn’t very amused about the whole situation once she climbed back on board.

She was trying her best not to snap at Rio, as the jackelope got her a towel to wipe off the water.

Rio than then tried to fire up the engine but called Coin over. After a brief and worried discussion, the rabbit sheepishly confronted his fox friend.

“Umm…Kit….”

“What is it?” she snapped with her eyes already glowing.

“The boat…it’s out of gas…”

Suddenly Kit screamed as she transformed into DemKit, with his voice deepening into a roar. He picked up the cowering and flailing jackelope and chucked him off the boat. Then moved on towards Rio and held her up, shaking her around.

“WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO NOW FIRST MATE RIO?!?!” he roared.

“Calm Down!” Rio said. “Coin can just call the boat tow.”

DemKit dropped Rio and blushed a little embarrassed.

“Sorry Coin!” he yelled out.

“Try to grab the tube.”

Coin swam towards the tube, failing to notice the fin behind him. He climbed onto it, but as he was being pulled in by the fox monster, a shark leapt from behind him and bit down on his swim trunks, ripping them and pulling them into the water. His two friends screamed with DemKit frantically pulling on the rope harder, but it was fruitless as he pulled it in to find the shark had cut it in half. Coin, meanwhile, had a censor bar over his special area and watched as whale watchers and fishermen boated by laughing. The shark returned and pulled the censor off of him, causing DemKit and Rio to blush and look away.

“How can this get any worse?” the mouse said to herself.

“There they are!” an angry woman said, with a crowd of people on a police boat. The officer looked to see a sailor mouse next to a steering wheel, some fox monster, and a naked jackelope behind them.

“Oh crap.” DemKit said to himself, embarrassed.

Later on, Kit, now back as her normal self, and Coin were eating the fish they’d caught in the estuary with their families at Coin’s house.

“I’m glad they found out I was just transformed.” She said. “And they found the shark with Coin’s compressions lodged in its throat at the hospital. He said he needed clothes to deliver to someone.”

“Who?” Gunda asked

“We don’t know yet, but because he pulled my censored bar away he now has to register as a sex offender.”

“As for Rio?” Kit’s father asked.

“Well because she was recklessly driving to the point of bodily harm and property damage, and we didn’t do anything wrong, she has to spend the Festival in jail.” Kit replied.

“It’s a good thing you guys called to get the trout out.” Jonas said. “Proud of you son!”

“Thanks dad! How was the nautical golf tournament?”

“Well, we placed second.” He declared to Margaret. “We have to go to the plaza tomorrow. You are performing tomorrow night correct?”

“Yea, I’m meeting Harry and Roxie at work tomorrow, and D’Arcy is setting up her clothing tent at the beach market.”

“Apparently someone sent a threat to her earlier this afternoon.” Kit’s brother told them. “They’re investigating who sent it.”

“Well, it’s probably nothing we should worry about, but we should tell D’Arcy once we get to the beach.”

Meanwhile the salmon trunks sank into a cave where a sea serpent sat waiting and grabbed it.

“Nice…” she said. “A sample of clothing from one of that jersey devil’s friends.” She smiled with glee. “He could be useful to me… in finally bringing her down…” she laughed as her factory workers continued to work…

#story #writing #cryptids #cryptid #original writing #comedy #art

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theparadoxmachine · 6 years

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I’ve been baking/cooking/etc. as a hobby for about 15 years now (omg it’s been 15 wtf - ahem sorry, I’m going to be 30 this year and I’m in a weird place about it) and I’ve made creme brulee, tiramisu, different breads, butter, crepes, and the grooms cake at my mom’s wedding, so not a paid professional or anything, but not a newbie. And let me tell you something.

I have no tolerance for bakers who talk shit about boxed cake recipes.

None.

Bakers like to say “omg is it SOOO hard to measure out flour and sugar” and you know what

Yes. Yes it is. If you’ve never done it before.

People so easily take it for granted that correctly measuring ingredients is a skill. A skill we all had to learn, some of us younger than others. Would you know to level off flour if no one told you? No. No is the answer. The only answer. Don’t tell me otherwise. If you’re a baker, you only know to level off your measuring cups because someone told you to. (Don’t even get me started on weighing ingredients.) Would you know that there’s a massive difference between baking powder and baking soda? Very possibly not.

I got started baking by using boxed recipes. Then one day I was craving white cake then thought, hey I could probably do this myself, and I whipped one up from scratch no problem. But that was after familiarizing myself with my kitchen by making dozens of boxed cakes.

No one else in my family bakes. My parents both cooked, but neither of them were bakers. I knew my way around the kitchen by the time I was in high school, but I’d never made cakes before, certainly not from scratch. Boxed mixes were a good way for 14 year old me to get comfortable with making cakes and ease into it. It also gave me experience with playing with flavors, seeing what icings go best with what flavors.

Trust me, cakes can be intimidating if you’ve never made them before. If you disagree, it’’s probably because you’ve been baking a while and again, are taking it for granted that your experience gives you ease with the process.

Also, some people don’t have a lot of supplies in their kitchens, some people don’t have a lot of time, or energy, or space, or give-a-damn. They get a craving, they stir an egg and some oil and some powder in a bowl, pour it into a pan, throw it in the oven, slather the results in icing, and eat it and they have experienced joy. They’ve made something and feel accomplished. Don’t take that away because you want to feel snide and superior.

And those posts on how to dress up boxed mixes and make them better, like using melted butter instead of oil and milk instead of water, etc are wonderful because they make you think about the chemistry of baking if you’re a beginner with baking. So stop being a shit about it.

Tl;dr, everyone starts somewhere, so don’t be a butthead.

#baking #recipes #cakes #i hate baking snobs so much #i'm in a mood #use your boxed mixes you beautiful newbies #you're fine #and boxed mixes are great to experiment with #I'll probably use them when I start playing with decorating #also put like a tablespoon of mix #with ice cream and milk #in a blender #voila #cake batter milkshake #you're welcome

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years

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FIC: Something Borrowed, Something Blue ii

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PART ONE

Wednesday morning started dark and early for her. Sleepy kisses as she bid good morning to the other in the bed, not due to get up for another three hours, and checked in on the youngest of the household to ensure he was still fast asleep before showering and preparing for the day.

Usually Jo would sleep for another thirty minutes, but given today was due to be a long one filled with photos as she baked and decorated the demonstration trial cake from scratch, she figured an extra thirty minutes to ensure her hair and make up looked nice for the day (though inevitably she’d be flour covered by the end of the day and tendrils would fall out of the nice high pony tail before lunch). Usually she would get to wake up and luxuriate in bed for a while before getting up, showering and then waking Billy to get prepared for pre-school. Today, Jack would get the pleasure of preparing the boy for the day, making him breakfast and hearing him babble about whatever strange dream he had the night before.

Dressing for the day in a pair of denim shorts and one of the oversized shirts that still remained in her wardrobe after five years, Jo smacked her lips together and blotted the excess from her red lips as she gathered her recipe-slash-sketch book and headed out to the bakery as the sun barely made it’s creeping way into the sky. Overhead the clouds were still the dark inky blue of night time, just slightly tinged golden to the edge and purples slowly building their way through the rolling masses. The perfect inspiration for her work that day, quickly snapped a few times as she walked on her way to the bakery.

As she reached the front door, she could see the exhausted looking journalist outside already, hands clutching as if to a lifeline to the Starbucks cup. At least she knew she looked more prepared for the day than him even if it was only just past five in the morning.

“Good morning Chuck.”

The grumbled sound she got in response made Jo laugh as she unlocked the front door of the bakery. Moving inside and flicking the lights on, she noticed the man slip in behind her before sinking into one of the closest chairs as she got the space prepared for the morning. The smell of baking bread was already filling the air, her favourite part of having automatically timed ovens that she could avoid the two am starts that other places had to endure. Flicking the coffee machine on, refilling the front displays with prepared trays of cookies, cakes, slices, pastries and other goodies, Jo hummed to herself practically forgetting the other was there aside from the odd groan.

There were breads to be pulled from the ovens, trays of prepared cupcakes and brownies to go back in, a pot of caramel to be placed on the stove while the shortbread bases baked; there were muffins to be loaded into the cake displays and covered with their glass dome, glass cookie jars to be refilled and brownies to be stacked high on plates within the display case. There was milk to be checked on, fruit tarts to be glazed and mixers to be started up with bases for the rest of the days work. And finally there was a section of the kitchen to be set up in preparation for making the wedding cake base later in the morning, butter to be set out to come up to room temperature and ingredients to be laid out in decorative bowls and artfully positioned.

As the clock approached six am, the first few customers began appearing - mostly other cafes for their daily pick ups that Jo moved through easily with a laugh and a smile, and the exchange of a bunch of mint with one of the herbal stores a few blocks away that always ordered raisin and oat cookies, an entire crate full of lemons and beetroots from Mrs. Mills who ran a tea shop just out of the city who grew her own produce but was a failure baking them into anything herself but would trade ingredients for discounted trays of pastries to go along with the tea and best homemade lemonade and hard cider in the area, and the constant flirting that even now Jo never could stop partaking in when Andy came by blushing and stammering for his special brownies for the medicinal store he ran across town. Others breezed in and out smoothly, and Jo had already poured Chuck his third coffee before the hour was out by the time her long-haired barista-lawyer arrived to start up the morning as the first of the commuters would begin to arrive.

“C’mon Chuck, lets get this shoot set up for today, huh?”

There was an almost awake nod before Jo lead the way back into the kitchen where she began to lend a hand setting up a selection of cameras to capture time-lapse as well as real time footage of her working through the preparations for a demonstration cake with all the elements she’d discussed. The cupcakes had been selling well and she thought that the blueberry icing was the way to go underneath the fondant for today’s trial in preparation of Friday’s mock-up. Usually Jo mocked up cake after cake once every few weeks for a wedding, but with the amount she’d be making these flavors this week she felt comforted that she’d be fine until a few weeks before the wedding itself this time around.

“Alrighty, fondant time.” Jo chirped to herself quietly two hours later, an ongoing stream of conversation from her having filled the morning where mostly she talked to herself or sang along with the radio while Chuck seemed to either work on typing up his notes from the last two days or try to wake up still. The fondant work was always her favorite thing when she got the chance to do it, for one important reason. Slapping the large white block of fondant down and cutting it into pieces with a dough scraper, Jo let out a laugh as she started working a quarter out with her rolling pin. “Who needs a gym when you can bake instead?”

“Who indeed?” Chuck’s answer was just as vacant and distracted as her own question had been, and Jo felt a laugh pop right back up at how relaxed and unobtrusive the other was to her work. He’d barely looked up from his laptop as she’d made the batter for each tier of the much downsized trial cake for the development today; and Jo liked it that way.

Working the white fondant out until it was a thin enough sheet to go through her larger scaled roller, she called him over to move a camera to catch the process as she fed the fondant through one end over and over until it was paper thin. Slicing out little shapes of various sizes and laying them out on a baking sheet dusted with potato starch and layer separated by a tea towel, Jo spent the next hour slowly making those white petals and then various petals of lilac and deep aubergine as well in smaller amounts. As she did that, there were cakes and brownies removed from ovens, loaves of bread traded out and cupcakes and pastries a plenty made and prepared all over again like her Monday in anticipation of the day off tomorrow to keep the bakery ticking over.

By lunch time, Jo had three full trays, six layers deep of petal and leaf shapes, and long flouncy ruffles to do an ombred ruffled layer, as well as the white fondant ready to be marbleised with the different purple shades after a lunch break.

“So,” The journalist’s voice caught her as Jo finally sat down for the first time in some seven hours as the clock hit just after one in the afternoon as she cut herself a slice of salmon quiche after dishing up the same for the other man. Perched on her stool and pulled up close to the central island, Jo raised a brow across at the finally awake voice and her eyes spotted the running silver dictaphone in the middle of the bench as they started her lunch break. Sam had been in the hour before for a quick bite while Jo’d worked the coffee machine for the quick lunch rush, and the amount of cocoa on her cheeks was less than normal considering. “I got my rough draft from a lot of stuff yesterday-”

“Was that helpful for you? Thinking about getting into INKED and leaving Rolling Stone?”

“Eye opening, yes, but I’m stuck here until this sham of a wedding is complete.” Chuck grumbled the words out quietly, eyes focused on the trashy magazine pile he’d brought with him that day that held stories that Jo suspected were about the bride and her ‘whirlwind’ romance - the fake stories that didn’t have a lick of truth to them.

Her back when rigid and Jo found herself snarling sharply at the accusation against her friend, lips curled into a sneer. “Now listen here, buddy. Absolutely nothing about this wedding is a sham.” Jo’s brown eyes flashed dangerously for a second as she caught his eye finally, and found herself shaking her head and holding up a hand as the other’s mouth opened to speak. “No no. No talking until I’m done. I get that you might have an image of what Shada is like, what she does for a living, how she presents herself to the world, and the way the show she’s on has given her whole... storyline. But absolutely none of that is accurate to the woman I know. Nor to the man that loves her, and the depth of their romance.”

“Oh?” Chuck’s brow raised in return before he set his magazines back down and picked up his notepad and pen instead even though his laptop was open beside him. An analog guy it seemed. “Well, I’ve got to say - I’d love to be able to write the most genuine series of articles I can about this wedding compared to this-”

“Trash.” Jo supplied the word at the gesture of his pen towards the stack of magazines, and the bemused smile she got for it made her hackles drop from how they had been risen.

“Exactly.” The other nodded for a moment before gesturing his hand at her. “Well, tell me the real story again then - I know we covered some yesterday but that’s just broad strokes. Give me fine details, huh?”

Jo found herself sighing, and then launching into the many, many positive and wonderfully genuine parts to her friend throughout the rest of the afternoon. For the next four hours as she layered the small cakes together with buttercream, crumb coated and then fondant wrapped one in the ombre ruffles, one into the beautiful purple marble coated and then sparkling with carefully placed gold-leaf, and the lilac purple buttercream cake which was then covered in the delicate roses made out of the petals - each with tiny edging of silver-leaf and shimmering with a light layer of lustre dust. And as she assembled the small practice cakes, she talked of her friend.

Shada’s genuine smiles, her love of her brother, how she’d always be kind to anyone and everyone she met. The way the dark haired woman never once ordered anyone directly to do something, unless it was followed by an apology for being pushy. How the girl had grown so much in the two years Jo had known her, and the maturity and wisdom that she spoke with on a regular basis. How Shada was so kind to her son, and the way the girl truly wanted to get married and have a family. That Shada had been unsure about the wedding being a part of the show and covered as much as it was, even if she’d daydreamed as a teenager of being rich and famous and a star-studded wedding to one of the Jonas Brothers - that now she was marrying the love of her life, that the brunette would be truly happy marrying in a potato sack (”one that she would obviously make purple and look beautiful in though!”) and still be happy. How the starlet had planned originally to have a quiet, intimate wedding at Ian’s family manor in France during the break in filming, before the couple had talked about the opportunity and agreed after being approached that they could do this for Shada’s career and have the smaller, intimate celebration for their anniversary the following year.

It was as Jo continued to place tiny edible pearls around the roses, that she found herself being guided into reminiscing about her own wedding in comparison. The quick court house event that she’d worn a lacey, white shift dress she’d bought for $2.50 at a secondhand store while her Marine wore his dress uniform. The posey of baby’s breath in her hand and the way the ceremony was completed in no time in front of her mom, Bobby the other couples getting married right before and after them. How the only photograph was taken by Ellen on the courthouse steps as she’d been lifted in her husband’s arms and one of her shoes had fallen off as she’d laughed. That her wedding dinner was pizza in bed as they watched some old black and white movie that he loved, and Jo’d fallen asleep in no time. That he’d been shipped out two months later, and dead within four from then.

And she spoke softly, as she wrapped the fourth option in a layer of plain white fondant before collecting her airbrush kit and the array of purples, blacks and golds to start covering the blank canvas in her own form of art, of how much she wished the couple far more than half a year of happiness. The gentle whistle of the airbrush as she delicately mottled the colors together and as she smiled thinking to herself that she was absolutely certain the pair would have that.

The noise from the front of the bakery was quieting down as Jo finished the last flourish and grinned across at the journalist as he continued to look up and down between her and his notepad. It was closing time, and she had four examples to show her friend on Friday when her and her fiance arrived originally for the final design choices, and she’d have enough cake prepared to do a full size mock up of the design they chose that day as the journalist would talk to the couple and snap photos beside her and her work. But for today, she was done and began putting away the demonstrations and the baked goods and doughs she’d prepared for Sam to utilise tomorrow while she was out with the bride and her entourage.

“Jojo, mamacita, your boyfriend is bothering me again!” The called voice that bounced through the door to the front as Ash pushed it open and followed in the grinning professor with his own laugh. “He was bothering me about someone’s photoshoot and when those photos would be coming in.”

“I wasn’t-” Jack’s blushed furiously as he moved towards her at the fridge, his hands reaching out to go around her waist before stopping short noticing the scruffy journalist packing away his laptop and notepad though the dictaphone stayed out in the middle of the bench. In an instant, his arms dropped to his side and Jo found herself frowning to see the smile drop just as quickly from his face and whatever he’d been saying disappear along with it. “... Jo.”

“Hunny.”

“How was your day?”

Arching a blonde brow, Jo let out a bit of a laugh to herself as she noticed the focus of Jack’s eyes on the silver recording device until Chuck’s hand wrapped about it and tucked it away in his messenger bag.

“It was fine,” Jack’s voice was still tight and quiet, brushing against the curve of her ear as she moved in closer, before he spoke a little louder and clearer. “Have a good evening, Mr Shurley. Big day tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Seven beautiful women and an array of gowns?” Chuck grinned widely as he moved about the kitchen towards the door and Ash’s equally appreciative grin. Raising a hand in a wave, he pressed it against his chest, mocking a wound. “How did I get this job, huh? Luckiest bastard-”

“Your week just keeps gettin’ better and better!” Ash laughed along with him and he followed the reporter out of the bakery with a wave behind him at the couple, closing the swinging door behind him. “See ya later, lovebirds.”

“Tell Sam I’ll close up!” Jo called out loudly to the others back as the door swung back and forth and finally closed, before she found two hands wrapped around her waist and then let out a squeal as she was lifted up onto her still floury work surface. “Hun!”

“Yes?” Jack’s lips spread into a wicked smile as he leaned in to catch her own for a moment before pulling back. Jo could feel her cheeks heating up as his fingers brushed over her flour and sugar covered hair to tuck a few strands back before he kissed her again, thoroughly and hard, fingers tangled in her messy hair. There were a long, heated moment before he pulled back again leaving her breathless as he let out his own sigh. “What a day.”

“Yeah? What happened?” Jo ran her own fingers through his hair gently in return as the slightly stressed look she’d remembered from the last years exam time started up again. He always ran himself ragged during them, and if nothing else, she could ease some of his stress with her kisses and touch. “Tell me all about it over dinner?”

“I’d much rather hear about your day.” He replied gently, leaning into her touch for a moment before they both smiled at one another.

Jo recalled the discussion of the day as they packed up the kitchen and closed up the front of the bakery too, with Jack’s hands carefully wiping the flour from her jeans and then helping her to pack each thing away as needed. They took no time at all to close up and walked hand in hand on their way back to Jack’s house. As he’d wrapped his fingers around hers, Jo couldn’t help but think as she talked about how happy she was for his little sister finding the love of her life, that perhaps she’d been lucky enough to find another one.

Dinner was quieter that night - Bobby and Ellen taking care of Billy for the next two nights as a fun sleep over as well as to keep him from getting Jo to run late the next morning - than usual with just the two of them, but at the same time it meant that Jo could relax on the sofa with her feet up and a glass of wine while she could hear the quiet humming of a song and the sizzle of bacon and the bubbling of pasta from the kitchen without lifting a finger.

“Carbonara?” Jo sniffed the coated pasta happily as the bowl was offered out to her and she swung her legs around to sit upright as the dark haired man took the seat beside her. “You spoil me.”

“Not nearly enough for what you’re going to be dealing with tomorrow for me.” Jack’s voice was gentle and teasing in equal measure as he slumped beside her and kicked his own feet up on the coffee table. The baker curled up beside him and tucked her feet under his legs as they both dug into their dinner together.

Jo shook her head, smiling. “Nah, I’m doing it for your sister, you idjit.”

“How am I an ...idjit?!”

“Because, hun,” She giggled quietly, slurping up one of the noodles with a loud noise before smiling widely. “Not everything is about you. And I love your sister all on her own.”

“You do, do you?” His voice was softer than before then, the teasing tone bleeding out and replaced with something gentler and that made her stomach flip a little as he chewed on his own mouthful thoughtfully before swallowing. Jack turned his head to catch her eyes with those piercing blue ones of his, staring straight at her and if Jo could she would have melted right then under his look as he quirked one side of his lips up. “And why’s that?”

Jo’s tongue felt ten times too big while her mouth felt parched of any kind of moisture before she blinked a few times out of that look. Her cheeks a bright red, she smiled back simply. “Because, she’s more like family now.”

“Aunty Shayday and all?”

“Exactly.”

If she was red before, it was nothing on the flaming feeling of her whole face and neck as Jack’s eyes had searched hers for something she wasn’t sure of as they spoke, before he finally seemed to reach a conclusion and turn back towards the television with a small, secretive smile. “Well, that’s good that you’re not going to be tortured for me.” There was a beat as Jo recovered herself and the other chewed another mouthful of pasta, before he added cheekily, “Now I don’t need to spoil you tomorrow night too.”

“Hey! No fair!” Jo laughed and giggled then, cuddling into his side as they settled in to watch a movie and then head up to bed later. It would be a relaxing night before the inevitable stresses of the next day, and she was going to savour every moment of calm she could fit in before the morning came.

But come it did.

Rolling over onto her back as she climbed off of her love with a quiet, happy moan as his hands followed her path to continue running across the bright colors of her sides, Jo wished she didn’t have to get out of the bed at all. Her skin was marked all over between her tattoos and the signs of their lovemaking, but if she had it her way they’d both stay there until there wasn’t a piece of skin without the ghost of his lips on it. Stretching her back and letting out a giggle at the slight tickle to her side, she finally sat up after the other rolled out his side of the bed to grab a shower and rush out to work. She’d made him late for his 8am class, but as Jack threw a glance in the mirror from the ensuite over his shoulder back at her with his toothbrush dangling from his lips and sudsy teeth flashing a grin at her, Jo knew she wasn’t in trouble for keeping him in bed.

Rolling her hips back and forth and tossing about languidly like a cat waking from a long nap, boneless and pleased, she finally pushed herself upright before going to wrap an arm around the dark haired man’s shoulder to press a kiss on his back before heading to the shower.

She used to argue about staying the night here in his lavish townhouse - about his giving her a drawer in the ensuite and another in the wardrobe, and then more wardrobe space, and then how he got a cot-attachment added to the spare bed so that Billy could stay sleeping when he’d go down after dinner. And then it seemed pointless when her yearly lease came up and instead of renewing she found herself moving every bit of her life into a new house. Even the box of the clothes and books she’d still not thrown away, though she’d forgotten she still had it before the move. The spare, spare, spare room was reconfigured into Billy’s room, and Jack had even added another desk to the study and cleared shelves for Jo to add her cook books to the lounge and dining room spaces. Her cupcake cushions replaced his modernist blue ones, and there was a toy box brought in and added to each and every room in the house. Her tattoo designs went up on the wall beside a large oil painting of some beautiful woman with her face hidden behind shadow that held a dripping book out - Jo had not been surprised to learn that was one of the last of Jack’s work before he quit, the sheer mania, depression and confusion in the brush strokes hit her hard every time she stopped to stare up into the dark void where the woman’s eyes should be but weren’t yet felt like she was screaming out from. And in the kitchen her trinkets and gadgets and utensils had filled the drawers that before had the spartan one knife-fork-spoon combination.

The rainfall shower head was a luxury, and Jo waved goodbye through the fogged up glass as Jack left, leaving her to spend a good amount of time lathering and rinsing her hair. The whole room smelled like the bakery as she stepped out from the mists and set about doing her hair and make up nicely, but not too nicely as to upstage the stars of what was going on today. A little wave, a messy bun and just enough concealer to cover the darkest spots that littered her neck and her under eyes for different reasons was all that she needed to do to look suitable - if she needed anything more, Jo figured since it was actually being filmed but not scripted, she’d have access to an actually talented make up artist. Besides, she was known as the bubbly, cute baker girl so it made sense she looked a little rougher around the edges. At least this time she’d not have flour in her hair or cocoa on her nose.

Jeans and a black knit sweater, followed by a green hoodie borrowed from Jack’s wardrobe was her choice for the day. What she wore on the outside mattered less than wearing the nude colored strapless bra and nude toned underwear, but she drew the line at wearing heels for the whole day. Tossing her keys, phone and a few paper bags of snacks into her bag and her travel mug of coffee in hand before dashing out the door, the blonde flagged down the first taxi she saw and spent the trip chewing on her nails.

She hadn’t had to deal with bridesmaids for her own wedding - there hadn’t been time, and besides she hadn’t had female friends back when she was twenty-one and flunking out of her history major - and the few bridal parties that had come through the bakery had scared her immensely that a group of women with one goal in mind was a terrifying thing. To be part of said group felt entirely alien for her, and Jo half wished she could be on the grooms side of the aisle in a suit and without any drama instead.

Far quicker than she had wished, the taxi pulled up out front of the nondescript building with the small black sign and Jo handed over a twenty to cover the trip and tip as she clambered out ungracefully onto the pavement before steeling her nerves. She could spot that one camera guy she always spotted winking at everyone and who she had enjoyed flirting shamelessly and harmlessly with every time they filmed at the bakery leaning against the brickwork by the building’s door.

“Hey Gabey, what’s cracking?”

“Well now, gorgeous, that’d be spoiling the surprise wouldn’t it?”

“Like you care about spoilers!”

Gabriel, the previous camera man turned B-director, shook his head with a laugh and a smirk as she needled him for answers. “Come now, you know I need to get genuine reactions from you all.”

The blonde laughed in return, quirking a brow up at him. “Are you suggesting that I, Jo Harvelle, might not give a genuine reaction?”

“I plead the fifth.” The dark haired director laughed back, shouldering his camera bag on his shoulder with a sigh as a trio of black cars arrived and began unpacking with the rest of the small camera and other crew members poured out and then quickly into the building. “Ugh, I know Shada wished this could have been skipped-”

“But that would miss out so much potential drama, right?” Jo smiled back at him for a moment, before digging about in her bag to pull out one of the paper bags. Waving it at him, she raised a brow. “I’ll trade you these for confirmation that there isn’t any scripted drama today and that I don’t have to fake anything other than that I don’t think Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are vicious conniving bitches.”

The bag was exchanged in a flash, and the wide, toothy grin she got back in response when the other saw the selection of chocolate chip cookies that were also made using her burnt butter base and shards of salted toffee inside made her smile back at the cheeky salute before Gabe moved off with a shout for some hair stylist ‘Balthy’ to get his ass inside quickly.

Jo found herself leaning up against the wall herself instead, the warmth from the other’s back still in the brick, as she pulled her phone out to start getting ahead on orders and emails while she had the time. She dipped a hand into her bag to fetch out the bannana bread, oat muffin with peanut butter she’d packed for her breakfast that she started nibbling at between coffee sips as she waited. It was just before nine, but the girls were known to be late.

Over the next thirty minutes others slowly trickled into arriving - first was the taller blonde girl with a big, wide smile and the cutest habit of always covering her hair in little lace bows that was Ian’s little sister; followed by the brunette Bela who’s sunglasses hid almost all of her face except for her pout, and then the newly black haired Ruby with a snappy greeting for everyone before disappearing off at the wave of greeting from the director of the day. Jo was talking at length with Ombre about the different cake designs she had been working on and was showing her the photos of the trials from the day before when the next two women arrived.

“Oh lookie, the baker is here too.” The clipped tone pulled Jo out of explaining to the excited Ombre just how to make the ruffled cake that matched her name, and looking over her shoulder at the new arrivals, the blonde didn’t even bother to keep the sneer off her lips as she looked at the redhead. Anna smirked back, smugly, raising a brow at her. “I suppose you’re here to make our dear Shada seem more grounded right?”

“No, no, Anna, it’s cause she’s trying to fuck her way into society the same way Shada did.” Lilith’s snide comment rolled out from her with an equally vicious grin on her lips at getting to throw a few comments in before she would need to play nice-r to the cameras. “Tell me, Jojo, did you give her pointers for how to do that with your step-daddy or-”

“Lilith, you better shut your goddamn fucking mouth before I shut it for you.” There wasn’t even a beat before Jo had the other blonde pushed back against the brickwork with a hand around her neck, pressure tight but not dangerous as she glared up at the other woman. She held the position for a count of five in her head, before stepping back and leaning down to pick her coffee up from where she’d left it earlier. “Today is about Shada, and I will not have a single person say a negative thing about her, her life, her choices or anything to do with her and this wedding or anything else, okay?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” The deeper than usual tone cut through the small crowd of women as Ruby arrived back with their director in tow right then. Gabriel’s eyes caught Jo’s for a split second longer than the others as he stared each woman down - and all she could think was that this poor man had to herd this crowd of women day in and day out without anyone unconnected enough to lay down the law, and how much harder that must be dealing with five grown women than one almost-five year old. “Anyway, ladies, if you could head inside for the last touch ups and then Shada should be here and we’ll reconvene outside for the outside shots, right?”

Jo wasn’t at all surprised by the warm clasp of the dark haired Ruby’s arm around her shoulders leading her and Ombre inside into the ridiculous process of last minute checks and confirmations from the miniature hair and make up team preparing for the day. The younger blonde almost cried when the hair stylist Balthazar suggested taking out some of her bows, and then the fact both Anna and Bela were made to change their dresses to something different due to ‘looking too alike’ in the camera was insane. Jo watched on in a mixture of shock, awe and disdain as the make up, hair and wardrobe stylists did their work, and was only a little relieved when she was left alone as ‘good enough’ since she doubted she’d be filmed much that day. If she was, she’d have to bring out her back up bribery too. Ruby likewise was left alone, and the make up artist glared daggers at Jo when Lilith complained her neck looked ‘a little too red’. But everyone was touched up and finalised within half an hour, and Shada too had arrived and was barely containing her nerves.

She wasn’t sure when he arrived, but Jo noticed Chuck walking about behind other cameras and ducking under wardrobe racks at one point with his camera out and dictaphone hanging from a cord on his neck. Jo smiled when she caught his eye, but thankfully today wasn’t actually about her. Today was his content for the month after her cake special - all about the bridesmaids - and she would barely be spoken to today. This was his first chance to interview and speak with the other five bridesmaids, so really Jo would get to spend most of the day talking to Shada and keeping her company instead.

As the group were guided out to the black trio of cars again and slid into various seats to represent the way they would arrive to the studio, Jo laughed when Gabe grabbed her arm and had her lean up against the building instead.

“Really?”

“What can I say? The lighting looks great on you like that. Besides,” Gabe grinned conspiratorially at her as they waited for Shada and Ombre to climb into the third car, with Ruby and Lilith into the second and Anna and Bela in the first, “It means you didn’t have to go into one of the cars with those conniving bitches.”

“My hero.” Jo replied with a flourish of eyelash batting and laughter alike as she picked up her coffee mug, refilled by Shada’s PA Kevin, and began checking her phone as instructed and felt natural to her as she waited for this intro shooting to finish.

Soon enough the group were ushered back into the salon - now looking like a proper boutique rather than the explosion of wardrobe and styling that it had looked before - and Shada was greeted enthusiastically by the extremely smug fashion designer Meg Masters from Mastersara Bridal.

“Welcome, ladies, to my boutique.” The brown waves around the woman’s face were so well quaffed, like the other starlets that surrounded Jo as they moved into the space and were guided by the designer towards the luxurious white sofas with the golden accents. The whole group looked mostly put together, and Jo could tell as she made sure not to look directly down the lens of the camera walking backwards before them as they moved that there was a clear line between the reality stars, and herself and Ombre. If she hadn’t already been sure, then the look of distaste that swept the designers face as Jo slumped down on one end of the couch beside the perky blonde was enough to confirm it. “Our sophisticated designs are here for your review, and I am certain that you will find the perfect design for your vision in our collection.” The glance towards Shada and the rest of the stars as the B-camera came to pan across each womans’ reactions was enough to make Jo fight not to snort. “Mastersara Bridal is for not only the modern bride, but the modern bridal party - and we are so touched-” Jo found herself frowning at the tone as the dark haired woman said that word, the tiny curl to her lip and slight sardonic element to it as Meg’s eyes forcefully stayed staring straight, “-that you are here to select your gowns.”

Glancing to her right at the bride herself, Jo could see the glimmer of excitement and the wet sheen in the brunette’s eyes as she smiled that beautiful way that lit up the whole room. The family trait that Jo knew so well, and found herself smiling in return about it as Shada clapped her hands excitedly.

“I love shopping!” The excited giggle that came from the bride was perfectly timed, and the laughter that rippled out was almost entirely genuine from the group that were there, before Shada bounced back up to her feet. “I’m so excited!”

“I’m sure you are,” Meg smiled back, a tiny slice of danger behind white teeth, but waved a hand towards one side of the room. “Let’s see what we can find, shall we ladies?”

Jo actually flinched at the loud squealed exclamations from all the other women, before the group dispersed quickly in a rush in all different directions. Blinking in surprise, she caught the bemused look on their director’s face for the day as he bit into one of his cookies with a wink as he waved a hand for the three other camera men to start following the rest of the group.

Taking a deep breath as the noise slowly quieted down and instead each small group of women began talking amongst themselves, the blonde leaned over her knees as she breathed in and out. This was a lot. She was used to having this level of excitement and such around her, but as she finally got to her feet and approached where Shada was talking animatedly about only wanting purple shades regardless of if certain people’s hair would clash horribly and wash them out, Jo was surprised to realise that it was overwhelming for her in a way she’d never experienced before.

“Oh Bela, I know you’re not a fan, but green just is so not my color wheel.” Shada giggled loudly at the seductive green silk dress the other brunette was holding up to her frame. “Besides, you’re a bridesmaid - you’re not there to be sexy.”

“Says you.” Bela tossed her head back with a smile, eyes flashing and Jo was sure that the camera was eating every second of that wicked look. “You know weddings are the perfect place to meet men, and I know that Ian has some equally rich and handsome cousins-”

“No!” The chirp came from the blonde that stuck her head with a very exaggerated scowl through the nearest clothing rack. Ombre eyed the actress with a frown for a moment before adding sharply, “My cousins are all gay. Or married. Or-”

“Or you’re lying to disuade me.”

“Maybe.”

“Girls, lets not fight - we’ve got to find dresses.” Jo found herself speaking up as the bickering back and forth began and all she could envision was how frustrating it was to deal with Billy’s squabbling with his friends and put her foot in before it could get going. “Shada, how about you get everyone to grab a dress or two - so long as they can be made in a purple tone - and we can get started?”

There was a second before her friend’s arms went around her waist and Jo found herself laughing along with Shada as she grinned back at her. “See? This is why we need a mom around here! Someone who knows what they’re doing!” Looking over Jo’s shoulder, Shada flapped her hand at those around the room. “Let’s get trying!”

The god awful squeal happened again, and biting down on a wince, Jo let Shada link their arms together and herself be towed about the room as the brunette reviewed dress after dress with the designer pointing out features left and right. It took forever, but perhaps that was just how it felt to Jo, before the six bridesmaids were each sent off to their own dressing rooms with a large array of dresses in each to match one another - guided to start from the left to the right.

Letting out a sigh, Jo stripped off and quickly pulled on the first dress with little struggle. At least this one, compared to some of the others, looked a lot less intimidating. Tugging the chiffon straps carefully, Jo frowned when they wouldn’t stay up and instead hung off her shoulder. It must have been intentional, she thought as she readjusted her bra and settled everything where it should be before there was a called out direction by the directing man for the bridesmaids to emerge on the count of three.

Sighing to herself, Jo followed instructions and moved out of her changing room towards the central space in line with the other bridesmaids to scrutiny.

Looking down the line, the blonde found herself smiling to see Ombre swishing the skirt of the soft lilac dress happily, while both Anna was trying not to scowl on camera while trying to pull her dress down enough to show more cleavage than should be necessary or was acceptable in such a simple and classic dress. The color looked beautiful on a few of the other women’s skin tones, but washed out others like Bela and Ombre.

Jo jerked at the sound of a laugh near her, and looked over to see Chuck with his camera pointed directly at her while Gabe was directing his own the cameras away from her. Frowning, she raised a brow at the men in confusion.

“Have a good night, Jo?” Chuck asked, tone full of implication, as Shada and Lilith bickered about whether the color of the dress was dramatic enough or not. Jo frowned further in confusion until the reporter gestured at her neck. “Should have remembered you were doing things today.”

Turning her head towards the mirror, Jo let out a loud laugh noticing the dark patch under her ear that was visible now she’d switched her borrowed hoodie out for a dress. Giggling, she looked about for an option before a tall, lanky blond came over with a compact and whispered at her in an accent that would have once upon a time been dreamy about “got mauled by an octopus did you, dearie?”

Thankfully the rest of the women were busy squabbling or enjoying their dresses that by the time all turned towards Jo she was covered sufficiently and could simply say she thought the dress was ‘nice’ and ‘a good start’ without any further questions other than to turn the topic back to the bride.

“I agree, Jo, it’s a good start. I love the color - its so lovely and reminds me of spring! It would match the wisteria arches perfectly...” Shada frowned slightly in the sweetest looking frown Jo had seen in a while, tapping at her lip with a finger as her brows furrowed and a camera came in for a close up. “But something about the strap bothers me. Onto the next!”

The clap that followed that was order enough for the bridesmaids and director alike for them all to return to the dressing rooms for the next dress.

Jo emerged before being called this time - half to check that she didn’t have anything extra to be hidden and half to check on the bride herself - and found herself blushing at the loud exclamations of how beautiful she looked from her friend.

“Oh Jo, you have to get a dress like this some day. My brother would eat you up!” Shada leaped off of the sofa to run up to her, all smiles and grins as the camera crew focused on taking b-roll of the store itself while the other women struggled to get dressed. The brunette took her hands in a second before tugging for Jo to spin so the soft, tulle swirled about in a beautiful arch while Jo could hear in the background the shutter of the reporter’s ever observant camera going off. “Look at your figure, wow. Wow. You’d totally steal the show from me!”

Jo laughed along with the other at that, aware that the warm tone and the way the other pulled her in for a hug that that would in no way be true but the sentiment felt so strongly. She did look nice, she supposed, catching a glimpse in the mirror. She was just lucky her breasts had shrunk back to almost the same level after having weaned Billy onto a bottle all those years ago, because with much more cleavage and she’d look very different in this dress.

The rest of the bridesmaids slowly emerged, and Jo bit down on a smirk at the decreasingly excited or pleased reaction each woman got as more appeared in the beautiful design. The deep-v that looked lovely on Jo, Lilith and Ombre, looked borderline tacky on the two dark haired women when Bela and Ruby emerged even if the dark purple color of the bodice looked beautiful on their complexions. And on the redhead when Anna eventually emerged, it looked downright tawdry.

“Oh no.” Shada shook her head, eyes fixed on the ample curve of bossom visible in the deep-v of the redhead’s dress before she swept a glance over the rest of them with a wistful look. “No, no, this one won’t do. You all look far too sultry and amazing. Though perhaps I should buy one of these for my hen’s night?”

The round of laughter and eye rolls that came from that, as well as the extreme pout from the redhead were amusing, and Jo made her way over in a swish of fabric as the rest moved back to the dressing room to catch the bride’s arm.

“Hey, Shada sweetheart, it’s absolutely okay if we don’t find something today, okay?”

“But-”

“No,” Jo shook her head at the somewhat deflated look on the other’s face as Jo guided her to sit down. “I know all those girls have their own expectations of what they want to look like, but you should know that this is about what you want and what will make you happiest.”

The glance the dark haired woman gave to the cameras that were now focused on the pair was concerning, though Jo reached out to grip her chin firmly but gently and caught her eye again. “No. This is about you Shada, not any of that. This is all about you, and your love and your happiness - not the dresses, not the cameras or the opinions or the whims of everyone else. You tell me which dress you want, when you see it, and I will make sure you get exactly what you want.” Jo could feel the prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes as she said it - remembering the voice that was becoming less clear growling to her that 'whatever makes you happy’ when she’d said she just wanted her own wedding over with - before smiling widely. “You are the bride, Shada, and this is about your big day. Not everything else happening around it.”

There was a beat before the younger girl nodded her head a few times and Jo wrapped her up in a tight, bone-crushing hug for a moment regardless of the cameras on them and the shutter sound of the smaller ones. After a moment, she pulled back and knocked her fist gently against the other’s chin before rushing back to her dressing room to get into the next dress.

Jo barely refrained from jerking away when she noticed the next dress, scowling to herself as she pulled it on and tugged at the turtleneck of it as it scratched at her skin. Turning in the mirror, she pulled a face all over again at the figure hugging nature of the dress and just how much of a Mom-ass she looked to have already in that dress.

Heading to her spot in the line up, Jo found herself biting back a laugh at the vehement fight breaking out between Shada and Lilith over the dress itself.

“No way! They’re too sparkly-”

“I happen to think these are better than those trashy, boring dresses from before.”

“You all look trashy now!”

“You would know!”

“Get the Hell out of those things!” Shada shrieked, gesturing along the line of women as the smirking blonde continued to tug her dress to show of every single curve of her body in the dress in a way Jo was trying to conceal for herself. “My wedding is not in Las Vegas! No way, no how, get out of them now!”

Jo was glad to turn tail without even being out in that one for even a minute, before catching sight of the next dress with a sense of dread. Sparkles and sequins weren’t exactly Jo’s dream idea, but as she struggled to work out the straps to the open sides and back of the next dress and had to call a store girl in to help, she couldn’t help but find her breaths rushing realising that perhaps if this dress was chosen she’d definitely stand out.

Emerging to the floor to see Shada, Ombre and Bela gushing about the dresses in the centre of the room and how pretty the color was on each woman, Jo tugged a little at the side of her dress. Glancing towards the large mirrors before them, she could see three quarters of each of her ribcage tattoos on display under the straps - dark lines and bright colors standing out against her skin and the deep eggplant color. Frowning to herself, she moved up towards the other women and blushed brightly when all three turned to look at her with matching frowns at the distracting ink from the design of the dresses.

“What do you think? Too much?” Ruby’s voice cut over them as she moved up as well, and Jo’s eyes went straight to her chest and the limited coverage in this dress compared to the other deep-v. “Not enough?” The additional comment seemed to be addressed over the women’s heads towards the camera crew, and Jo bit down a smile at the smirk and thumbs up sent back to the dark haired beauty from the directing chair. “Shada, me thinks this might not work-” There was a pause as Ruby glanced behind her to see Lilith and Anna emerging too with their own problems of either not filling out or over filling the dresses respectively, before looking around and at the tattoos visible on Jo’s sides. “For multiple reasons.”

Shada’s own face slowly shifted from a smile about how lovely Ombre and Bela had looked in the gowns to taking in the rest with a growing frown before nodding. “Yeah, I love the color though-”

“It’s definitely lovely!” Ombre chirped up from beside Shada with a wide smile, and Jo couldn’t help but feel glad that at least there were two of them on Shada’s side.

“But perhaps the design isn’t quite... accommodating enough?”

“We can expand the cups.” There was a sniffing sound as Meg moved forward to gesture towards the redhead’s chest with a sneer. “For those who need a little more coverage.”

Shada’s eyes darted about between the dresses and the designers frowning disapproval uncertainly, and as she blushed brightly, Jo could tell where this was going. She was such a people pleaser and so lovely a person, but that just meant sometimes she could be trampled too much. Not on Jo’s watch though.

“Oh, but you’d have to change the whole bodice of the dress to cover my tattoos though.” She quickly snapped out, tugging surreptitiously on the dress in the middle to show even more of her ink as she turned to the side, drawing everyone’s eyes over to her and away from Shada. Jo locked eyes with the designer fiercely, lips twitching to go into a smirk at the way the other woman’s own curled up into a sneer. “And then it’s jut a whole different dress. We might as well keep looking.”

“Exactly right, Jo. Thank you.” Shada spoke up then, stepping up to point and tap disapprovingly at the side of her dress as she looked back at the designer and then made a flapping, shoo-hand towards the rest of the bridesmaids. “Next dress, ladies!” As the group dispersed back to their own dressing rooms, the bride reached to hold Jo’s wrist with a smile. “Thank you,” She whispered quietly then, the intent and gratitude clearly pouring out that Jo could do little but smile back before shuffling back to the next dresses.

The fifth dresses resulted in a shouting match about just why was no one in the color purple and why would Shada want to look at silver dresses when none of those designs came in her chosen color; and the sixth was in another pale lavendar color but looked a little too sweet and girly on everyone except Ombre. Jo half thought that girl should be treated as a junior bridesmaid, given she wasn’t even nineteen yet, and could wear the flowy, laced halter dress to be different from the rest - but that idea brought tears to the other blonde at being treated differently and was quickly shut down. The brown bag of elephant ear cookies was quickly brought out and the younger woman calmed down with sugar before they moved onto the next dress. The seventh dress was widely agreed to be Nice But Wrong in a way that nobody could put a finger on and was after about five minutes of dissection to get to the bottom of it called off with a shout of “NEXT!” from the bride that sent them all scurrying away.

Jo had noticed between dresses that Chuck had been making the rounds talking to each of the other bridesmaids for a few minutes before they changed to discuss the wedding, Shada, their involvement and connection, and whatever else he seemed to want to draw out of these women thrown together by a job or through the groom in Ombre’s case. Jo was just glad to avoid talking today until she noticed him hovering by her dressing room as she emerged in the eighth dress.

“So, how is this compared to shopping for your own dress?” Chuck’s voice was quiet, thankfully, in the space as he held the dictaphone between them with a warm smile. “You said it was at an op shop, but did you have much to choose from?”

“Not really. There’s only so many white dresses about the place that aren’t stained, if you feel me.”

“That makes sense. Did you get that feeling though?” Jo found herself raising a brow at the question, which brought out a chuckle from the reporter. “Oh I know, odd for me to ask. But all the other ladies keep talking about some magical feeling or experience, figured you’d be the one to know the truth maybe.”

Jo laughed a little at that, shrugging a bare shoulder as she tilted her head to the side considering. “Hmmm... I don’t think I did. I just picked the dress that fit and looked the nicest.”

“If you were to get married again, what do you think you’d be after this time around? That magical feeling?”

She shook her head as she moved out towards the group, smiling sadly to herself as she glanced back over her shoulder at the man. “Sorry Chuck, I’m a bit too much of a realist these days about marriage and weddings,” Jo felt that prickle again and blinked rapidly for a moment before sighing gently. “Once you’ve experienced that young love feeling, you know that fades. Real love is about the real world, and facing that together. I don’t think you need a magical feeling - just to feel like you’re home and safe together.”

The reporter nodded repeatedly and Jo watched as he pulled out his notepad to make a few more notes as he moved off distractedly out of shot from the other cameras as Jo stepped up on the podium beside the other bridesmaids in this dress.

She had felt a little self concious of her hips and butt in the dress in the dressing room, but standing in line with the other women she couldn’t help but think they’d stumbled upon something that flattered each woman individually without drawing too much attention. Sure, she definitely looked curvy in the dress beside the others, but Anna and Ruby’s chests looked equally full, while Lilith and Ombre’s hair color and svelte figures looked statuesque and beautiful. And Bela just looked gorgeous in any and every dress she’d worn that she blended in with the rest just as lovely in the deep plum dress beside the rest of them.

“Oh. Oh these...” The bride’s eyes had lit up as soon as the six of them has assembled along beside one another, taking in the elegant drop sleeves and gentle curve of the silhouette that flattered each of them together. “I think, maybe...”

As each woman took turns to speak how much they liked the dress - with the sole exclusion of Anna who pouted repeatedly and played up to camera that it was too form fitting while clearly meaning the complete opposite as she continued to perk her chest up higher and twist to make her butt stick out more as she glanced between her own behind and Jo’s own - or at least appreciated the design for various reason, followed by the designer to talk incessantly about how lovely and flattering it was, Jo kept her eyes on Shada’s own wide, glossy ones.

“Well, we still have two more to try!” Ombre interjected when no one seemed to be making a move either way, and watching Shada shake herself out of her thoughts, Jo smiled that perhaps they’d found the one that would make the other happy already.

Stripping out of the dress, Jo let out a yelp at the sound of her curtain being pulled open before scowling in the small mirror in the room back towards the blonde and redhead that were in her doorway, delayed in changing from their interviews with the reporter.

“Excuse fucking you?” Jo snarled the words out, turning to sneer back at them as she lifted the dress back up from the floor to cover her front as she raised a brow at their own nasty looks. “Your rooms are further down.”

“Oh, are they?” Anna’s question sounded innocent, but the way her eyes raked over her disapprovingly made Jo question just how good an actress she thought the other actually was. “Our mistake. Hmm, Jo, what on earth happened to you?”

“What?”

“Those marks. You’re absolutely riddled in such horrible stretchmarks!”

“You’re right, Anna!” Lilith jumped right onto the line of picking as her own eyes ran across Jo’s skin in a way that made her want to throw punches - bra and panties be damned. “Were you a fat little kid? Or is that all from that little bastard you’ve whelped?”

Everything seemed to flash red in that moment, and if it hadn’t been the slight movement of something silver out the corner of her eye, Jo would have grabbed the other blonde by the hair and shut her up one way or another. Instead she glared hatefully at the recorder that stopped her from breaking the sneering bitch’s nose then and there and instead snarled back harshly. “Lilith, grow the fuck up.”

“What?”

“And you too Anna,” Jo hissed the words out, holding the dress tighter against herself as she tried not to let her rage boil over as she glared hatefully between the two of them. “I get you’re pissed that your boob job last year was fucking lopsided, and that you, Lilith, only got released last month for that little coke habit of yours - but I won’t have either of you talking shit about my son or trying to ruin this for Shada. So shut the fuck up, grow the fuck up, and don’t make me force the issue after we’re done here.”

There was a pause as the other two women exchanged a look, and Jo felt a small amount of pleasure as the redhead hiked up her dress on one side self-consciously in a way that Jo had felt before her mind got flooded with anger, before they turned about on their heels to go back to their change rooms. As she slid the curtain back in place she could hear them continue to whispering viciously about her ‘dumptruck ass’ and stretch marks, and one comment that as Jo turned back to the mirror, dropping the dress to the floor, stuck harder. ‘What makes her think she’s so special to be included here? Just cause she tricked Shada’s rich older brother into thinking she’s someone worth anything.’

Staring back into the mirror for a moment, Jo struggled to keep her face straight even to herself as she ran an eye over each of the imperfections they’d named as well as every other problem she saw in herself - each cut and mark and the less taunt skin around her stomach that had never gone back as tight as it used to be and the way her arms were too muscular from all the kneading and her hair was getting the odd silver strand amongst the blonde between running a business with such early hours, having a child and trying to restart her romantic life - before she spotted the dark bruising starting in the tops of her thighs and the curve of her breasts and the spots covered faintly still by make up on her neck. The proof that all those little bits, those little flaws and problem areas, and pieces that showed the history of her life in them, weren’t anything to be ashamed of.

Shaking her head, Jo quickly pulled on the next dress with a scowl of disgust at how washed out the color was compared to the deep jewel tone of the previous one, and the flacid ruffle along one side that made her want to tear it off. Some how this was almost as bad as the sparkly one.

When Jo got out onto the platform with the rest of the bridesmaids, she was not surprised to see both Anna and Lilith refusing to meet her eye before the redhead said loudly to the other, “Oh it’s such a shame some people look like old mothers rather than young bridesmaids.”

“It’s a shame some of us look like an episode of Botched,” Snapped Ruby with a smirk as she lifted her nails pretending to inspect them as a few of the other women frowned uncertainly. “But as I believe Jo said earlier, it’s about the bride right? So if someone’s tits are pointing in opposite directions then it’s probably very helpful for us all that we’re supposed to blend into the background, right?”

Jo bit down on a snort of laughter at that as she could spot a few of the crew trying to hold in their own noises. The fact there was no script today meant absolutely nothing to the ability for Gabe and his crew to get enough soundbites and drama for an episode. Glancing towards the reporter who was fiddling with his voice recorder, she could see the bemused look on his own face as well.

“Shada?” The uncertain question cut through the tension, and Ombre blinked sweetly a few times at her future sister-in-law before everyone turned back towards the dark haired bride. “What do you think?”

“Get rid of the tapeworm dresses, please, immediately!”

Jo found herself laughing hard at that description, and louder still when she shimmied the excess frill towards the bride and got a horrified squeal in return.

This time she wasn’t disturbed as she changed into the last dress. The sequined monstrosity that it was.

Shada didn’t even let half the women emerge from the change rooms before the call was made for everyone to put back on the deep purple mermaid dress with the off the shoulder cut. The one dress that made everyone look gorgeous and equally beautiful, though the way Jo could see the dark haired woman’s eyes cutting towards the redhead she could tell she wished it looked worse on her.

As they stood in line as they would on the day, Shada let out a loud and excited squeal - clapping her hands and bouncing happily on the sofa as she looked at the line of bridesmaids with joy. “We found it you guys!” The woman practically buzzed with excitement as they looked them all over and then got swamped by a giant hug from the youngest blonde who launched herself over for a hug. “We did it! Oh I have such pretty bridesmaids!”

“She using the right term? For you I mean.” Jo startled at the question from beside her as the other women milled about to try on accessories, looking out the corner of her eye at the reporter. His dictaphone was away at this point, as was his notepad, and Jo felt her cheeks heating up at the implication of the words before she got called away by Bela to try a necklace.

The rest of the day was a quick blur, and as soon as she was back in her normal clothes and wrapped up in the faint smell of aftershave, Jo felt much more comfortable as she got talked through how to do a brief interview for the show itself rather than the reporter, and then got to take Shada and Ombre for a late lunch at the sushi restaurant that the brunette never got to go to often any more. It was a relaxing time, with all three talking happily and confirming that Shada had chosen a beautiful dress that would compliment her own wedding dress when it was finally chosen too.

After lunch, Jo stopped by the bakery but was shooed straight out by Sam with the end of his broomstick and a lot of laughter. Instead of heading home, she swung past the college instead to check on Jack. That led to her sitting in on his last two lectures, staring moonily at him as she watched the passion with which he talked about his work and whipped his classes up into a frenzy of enthusiasm and appreciation for whatever topic he talked about. Then it was dinner, a movie on the couch and kisses in bed before sleep caught up with her.

The next day was equally calm in the morning, with the opening of the bakery as standard and her morning breezing by as if it was any regular day. It felt kind of strange to be back to her regular routine without her reporter shadow or anything out of the ordinary planned like shopping or photo shoots. It was quiet even as she bopped around to her tunes and worked on her usual catalogue of treats and baked goods. It felt good to be back to normal.

That changed as the clock hit one, and Jack arrived alongside his sister and Shada’s fiance Ian. Just after Jo had served up lunch of pithiviers, the door swung open to let in Chuck as well as Ash for their own lunches and bringing in a tray of coffees for the others. Jack’s attitude dipped slightly at the reporter’s arrival, but as the questions bounced about simply interviewing Ian and Shada about their feelings about Jo’s baking and why they had chosen to have Jo make their cake, he calmed some and slowly relaxed next to her as Jo rubbed her thigh against his under the bench.

As soon as lunch was finished, Jo fetched out the four different cake styles as well as the base crumb coated tiers to make a three tier mock-up of the cake itself based upon whichever design the couple chose.

It was a quick blur discussing what elements they each liked of all the cakes, and what they didn’t, but the silver dictaphone was out and Jo found herself talking more professionally than she usually would between friends but taking the time to really discuss at length the different elements. That Ian really liked the demonstrated fondant flowers but they both would be so intruiged to see some pulled sugar demonstrations as well. That Shada loved the understated, modern elegance of the airbrushed cake. That neither liked the ruffle effect of the ombre cake, even though Ian softened at hearing the name of the style and both thought it was a sweet connection to Ian’s sister but not quite their style. That they trusted Jack’s opinion on every single element.

As they finally settled on wanting to see a three tiered airbrushed cake, Jo set the fondant rolling for each cake and after wrapping and stacking the bottom two tiers - she held her airbrush out to the dark haired artist with a smile.

“You want to do the first spray?” She asked with a smile as she started wrapping the last of the cakes. “Or do you have any suggestions for the patterning?”

“Jo, I’d never suggest I could paint a cake near as good as you could.” Jack’s smile was blinding as he turned back to her as she started putting the last tier to the top with a steadying hand from him to help her when it was above her head. There was a pause before a sudden gust of air and edible dye splattered onto her cheek as Jack sprayed at her lightly on accident with a laugh. “See? I’m all thumbs!”

“That you are!” Giggling herself, she set about starting to do the same mottled effect of blacks, greys, golds and definite purples across the side of the cake - spinning it carefully left and right on the cake stand so she could create a gentle gradation that worked on both sides of the cake at once. So that no matter where you stood, you could see a gentle flow of color spreading along the while surface and swirling together. “Whatcha think, hun?”

There was a pause before Jo felt the other’s hand wrap around her fingers and lift the gun to point at one last spot. “A tiny bit there, and I think it’s good.” Jack’s lips were brushing against the shell of her ear as he talked, and she almost forgot hot to breathe when his finger pressed down on top of hers to pull the trigger for a moment before releasing again as the final, perfect brush stroke finished off the cake. The noise of the whole room had dropped away as she took a minute step back into his arms, her back to his chest and his other hand spreading across her waist, before a loud squeal broke the spell wrapped around her like her love’s arms.

“Oh my gosh, Jo! It’s absolutely perfect!”

The happy exclamation from the dark haired girl felt so good after the week of worry and stress trying to perfect the design and flavors and options for the other, and as Jo turned to look across the bench top from between the beautiful mocked up cake and the warmth of her lover’s embrace, she found herself grinning widely to see the same amount of love and excitement that she felt on the young couple’s faces as they looked between her cake and each other. Tilting her head back to catch Jack’s eye, she couldn’t help but think Shada had it utterly right.

Letting out a laugh, Jo smiled back and after a loud cough from the reporter, quickly moved to pose with both the bride and groom and the cake alone, before Chuck announced he had more than enough content for his cake article.

“I’ll see you all in a few weeks for - what was it, florals and bridal showers?” Chuck looked equally as confused as the other men in the room, shrugging his messenger bag with all his gadgets up onto his shoulder. “This article should be out by then, I think, depending on what date exactly you’re doing those parts Shada.”

“Not until after, I don’t think.” The brunette smiled gently from her perch on one of the stools, holding hands with her fiance and barely glancing away from him even as Ian was answering some email on his phone. “I loved the first article!”

“Oh yeah, that one was good.” The reporter nodded a few times, and shook hands with the distracted groom before extending a hand towards Jack as well. It took a second before the men shook hands, and Jo quickly jumped to her feet as Chuck went to leave.

“Wait! Take one of these with you, won’t you? I’ve got more cake than I’ll need for ages!” Jo flapped a hand and quickly fetched out a large cake box to slide the cake covered in the edible flowers into it for him. The ombre ruffled cake was boxed up already to be dropped off by Ian to his sister as a surprise, and Jo knew she’d use the other two as cake specials for the rest of the weekend. “I hope you like lemon.”

“You better believe it.” He looked surprised and a little uncertain to be receiving the full cake, and Jo was confused by the almost guilty look that crossed his face as Chuck took it from her with a sigh. There was a pause before he smiled again and waved goodbye with his free hand and headed back out to the main part of the bakery.

Frowning to herself, Jo moved back over to the three tier cake and grabbed a knife, holding it out to Shada and Ian. Looking between them and her own love, the blonde grinned with a wicked smile before asking cheekily, “You two need to get some practice in before the big night?”

---

#jopov #au stories #bakery AU

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shanastoryteller · 5 years

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i volunteered to make cake pops for my coworker’s bridal shower on wednesday, and it’s only for work people so it’s not like it’s huge. but i decided to be fancy and i was like “what if i make the cake pops in her three wedding colors? and what if each color was a different flavor?” because i like crying, i guess

her colors are ivory, blush, and gold, so i was like okay, i’ll make chocolate cake with chocolate cream cheese frosting and a dark chocolate coating, and then i’ll roll it in gold sprinkles. then a vanilla cake with strawberry cream cheese frosting covered in white chocolate. then a red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and a white chocolate coating, mixed in with a couple drops of red food coloring so it’s blush colored.

then it occurred to me i have to make all these cakes, and cake is not my specialty.

but whatever. i look up a chocolate cake with good reviews. i look up a vanilla cake with good reviews. i consider that i could just get a box mix and save myself a couple hours, but i’m known at work for baking from scratch. i want to continue to be known at work for baking from scratch.

i’ve never made red velvet before. i’m like, okay, this requires extra ingredients, and so much food coloring. i will use a box mix for the red velvet only.

so tonight i get home, and start baking.

chocolate cake goes okay. the batter isn’t as sweet as i would have wanted, but it’s still good. i make the vanilla cake as it bakes. the batter is perfect. i take the chocolate cake out, put the vanilla in, and get started on the red velvet.

i’m not making a cake with water. so i sub it out for buttermilk, add an extra egg, and hope for the best. i taste the batter and -

it’s not great. i’m very underwhelmed.

well. i already have most of the ingredients out, i think. i might as well. what can it hurt, really?

so while the box red velvet cake is cooking, i look up a red velvet cake recipe, and make that. i don’t have enough red food coloring to get it anything close to the right color, but whatever, taste is what matters here.

i take the box red velvet out of the oven, stick the scratch red velvet in, and do the dishes. so many dishes. then, because i’d also said i’d make cookies, i make the cookie batter so it can stay in the fridge overnight.

i take the scratch red velvet out. it’s got too many air pocket holes for my peace of mind, but okay. i try all the cakes. all aren’t sweet enough for my liking, and a little dry. i knew i should have upped the butter by fifty percent, but oh well, it’s too late to worry about it, and since they’re just cake pop ingredients, them being a little dry isn’t a big deal. i wrap everything in tinfoil, leave it on the counter, and got to bed. i’ve been baking for three hours.

tomorrow i have to:

make three different types of cream cheese frosting, mix the frosting and the cake, make balls out of them and stick them in the fridge for a bit, dip them all in chocolate, roll a third of them in gold sprinkles, and oh, bake about fifty cookies.

this is fine.

i’ll post pictures tomorrow if i don’t die <3

#shana bakes #we should have had her party on a monday so i could have just baked all day sunday

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chickenrecipes-blog1 · 7 years

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The Best White Cake Recipe | chickenrecepies.com

Expert Overviews:

This White Cake does now not upward thrust a lot, but that doesn’t negatively affect its fluffiness. I observed the White Cake instructions exactly, besides for one very important step. Which i accept as true with is why my cake is so fluffy inside and did now not sink. Cream your butter. Shortening and sugar altogether until very white and fluffy (about four mins). After that,…

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#best vanilla cake recipe #classic white cake recipe #moist white cake recipe with sour cream #super moist vanilla cake recipe #white cake mix recipes #white cake recipe with oil #white wedding cake recipe #white wedding cake recipe from scratch

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amuletrebel · 6 years

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Bring May Flowers (Ch. 14)

AO3 Link / FF.net Link

Prompt: “I told you it was a bad idea to do that.”

Adrien whistled a happy little tune as his car drove its short distance to school. When Nathalie asked him why he was so chipper that morning, he simply shrugged and said he had a good dream last night. It was half the truth, but it was still the truth. After suffering through his nightmare earlier that night, he was given one of the best dreams of his life when he fell asleep again.

In his dream, Marinette sat on a picnic blanket on a hill. She sat in the shade under the apple tree. There were three children playing at the base, chasing Plagg and what he could only assume as her kwami while laughing. He watched them as he made his want up to Marinette and sat beside her. Adrien held the blunette’s hand gently, the wedding band on her fingers glistening in the beams of sunlight that broke through the tree’s leaves. His heart swelled as he looked down at it. She giggled and gently kissed him. Then, she opened the picnic basket next to her and set out the food. And before he woke up, something she said really got to him. “I’m glad I taught you how to make some of these. I can really taste the love. I’m sure the kids do too.”

Okay, it wasn’t the most poetic thing his mind had conjured up, but it was still very significant. It made him want to do more for her than just buy her things. Yes, she said she appreciated his gestures with flowers, but he wanted to do more. He wanted to be more involved in her hobbies, her aspirations, and her life. He knew she loved fashion, and he kind of had that down, being the son of her fashion icon. Then again, she never really cared about that fact. He remembered her confession when she realized that she made his favorite scarf. Name had nothing to do with her love for him. It was his kindness and generosity that attracted her. The only other thing he could think of was her baking hobby. The answer on what to do was obvious.

When Adrien got to school, his giddy attitude showed as he bounced enthusiastically on his heels. Alya and Marinette were sitting on the steps. Just seeing her made him happy, especially after his dream. Unfortunately, he couldn’t just run up to her and scoop her up into his arms. Marinette and Adrien were just friends; for now. But Marinette and Chat Noir were an item; albeit a secret item, but still an item. It wouldn’t be all that odd if her boyfriend asked her to share some of her hobbies with him. She shared most of her homemade pastries with Chat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had one of her homemade treats as Adrien.

“You okay, dude?” Nino’s voice came from behind, making him jump in surprise. He quickly recovered, feeling Nino’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the model answered with a nervous smile, “Why do you ask?”

The DJ gave him an incredulous look. “Well, for one, you’ve been standing here, stiff as a board, staring at the school doors. Second, I’ve been calling your name for two minutes and you just continued to stand there, gaping like a fish.” But when he looked over at where Adrien had been staring before and smirked “Oh, I see now, dude~”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His peridot eyes shifted away shyly. “Let’s just get to class.”

“This ain’t over though, dude,” Nino said with finality and walked after Adrien as he went to class.

That night, as Chat and Marinette cuddled and watched a movie, Chat decided to voice his thoughts. “You don’t have school tomorrow, right?”

“Well, it is Saturday, chaton,” Marinette responded with a giggle.

“Right, right. Anyway,” he gently rubbed her shoulder, careful not to scratch her with his claws, “I thought I should get more involved with what you do.”

“I’m already making you a jacket. You’re the model I use for my sketches. What, you want me to use you for fitting now?” She let out a breathy giggle and nuzzled his chest.

The hero laughed and jumped off her bed with her in his arms. He set her down and stepped a couple feet back. “As pawsome I would look in just about anything,” Chat flexed for her, his heart floating as he made her laugh, “I was thinking of something else.”

“Like what?” the pigtailed girl asked, her head tilted in confusion.

“Baking!” Chat enthusiastically answered. He blushed and shifted on one foot. “Y-you know, I kinda want to do more c-couple things with y-you…”

“Awww! How sweet~!” Marinette smiled and hugged Chat. “Alright, chaton. I’ll teach you some baking recipes.”

“What’s your favorite?” Chat asked.

“Oh~ So that’s your game~” the blunette cooed conspiratorially. “I should’ve known you have ulterior motives~”

“Why, Princess. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chat turned his back and crossed his arms in a pouty manner. But the big smile on his face went unseen by his girlfriend.

He heard her laugh and felt her arms around his waist. “You know I love you. No need to woo me with food.”

Chat smiled and laid his hands on hers. “I love you too.”

The next day was actually a lucky day. Marinette informed her parents that Chat asked her if she could teach him how to bake. They happily accepted and even let their daughter use the bakery’s main kitchen since it was well-stocked. The blunette went so far as to make a couple simple aprons for her and Chat from the spares she found in the bakery’s storage closet. When everything was prepped, Marinette went up to her room for Chat to arrive, leaving her hatch open so he could just tumble in.

Meanwhile, Adrien snuck into the bakery’s alley. He had convinced his father to let him go out. He might’ve lied and said he would be at the park with his classmates for a school event. He was just lucky his father bought that, even if Gorilla drove his there and then left to return near dinnertime. But once Gorilla left, Adrien immediately ducked into a space he could transform without notice. News reporters would have a field day if Chat Noir was bounding city rooftops when there wasn’t an akuma attack.

“Plagg, claws out!”

Chat jumped up and swiftly landed inside Marinette’s room. He bounced off the bed and landed perfectly on his feet. With a sweeping bow, he greeted her. “Hello, my purrincess~ What are you doing–” When he looked up, she was nowhere to be seen. “–today…”

He looked around and spotted something hanging on her chair. On top of it was a note. Chat walked over to it and opened the note. It read, “Mon Chaton, I thought we’d start off our lesson with a little gift. A good baker always wears one. Love, Marinette.” When the blonde hero picked up the gift, he noticed it was a solid green apron. Little black pawprints moved across the bottom and at the top, in curly letters, it said “Meowvelous.”

He hugged it tight, and then put it on. Chat bound down the stairs and to the bakery below. Marinette was waiting for him in her own apron. He had to admit hers looked much cuter. It was light blue instead of green, complementing her porcelain skin perfectly. It had little black pawprints along the bottom as well. And in curvy letters, it read “Cakes and Cats.”

“Princess!” Chat exclaimed and tackled her in a hug, knocking them both to the floor. “Thank you! It’s purrfect!”

“You’re welcome mon amour,” Marinette answered, causing his to blush. She called him ‘my love,’ and that meant the world to him. “Let’s get started then~” She moved out of his arms and opened a cookbook. “We’ll make some simple cupcakes.”

“They look like cats!” Chat exclaimed when he saw the picture. The cupcakes had triangular chocolate to make ears and black icing on top of the white icing to make whiskers, eyes, and a mouth.

“Right you are, Chaton,” designer said with a smile. She shifted through the things on the counter. “Okay, so we have sugar, eggs, milk—don’t even try drinking it—a dab of sour cream, and of course– Oh…” She frowned as she looked into a large porcelain container.

“What’s wrong?” Chat asked.

“There’s not enough flour in the jar,” Marinette answered, showing Chat the one tablespoon worth of flour in the jar. She sighed and set it down. “I’ll need to ask Dad to get the new bag down.” The blunette pointed to a shelf and on top was a huge sack, most likely containing flour.

Never missing the opportunity to impress her, Chat leaped at the chance. “No need, Princess! I’ll get it.”

“How are you—Chat, no!”

Chat got onto the table and positioned himself towards the sack, looking ready to pounce.

“This is a bad idea, Chat! Don’t do it!”

But Adrien didn’t listen and took the leap. Unfortunately he miscalculated his footing and ending up dangling from the high shelf. His claws dug into the sack as he slipped and crashed to the floor, bringing all the flour with him. Marinette and Chat were covered in the flour as it surrounded the area like a thick white fog.

They both coughed and when Marinette was able to open her eyes, she glared at Chat. Chat chuckled nervously, dusting the flour out of his hair as he stood. When he looked down, he noticed his black suit was so covered in flour, it was almost completely white. If not for the splotches of black, he would’ve believed his suit was white.

“Check it out! I’m Chat Blanc!” Chat tried to lighten the mood by posing for her. It worked because Marinette started giggling.

“I would’ve said a zebra with a stripe dysfunction, but Chat Blanc sounds catchier.” She brushed some flour off his shoulder. “I told you it was a bad idea to do that, but no. No one listens to me. Now come on minou, we can clean this up and get back to work.”

And that’s what they did. Sabine came in a silently laughed at them, giving them the tools to clean up. Once all the flour was cleaned up and Marinette’s dad brought so clean flour up for them to you, they got to work. Chat liked to lick frosting from her cheek while she would put some on him and refuse to clean it off. Chat was the one who put the chocolate ears on and Marinette iced on the details. When their hard labor was done, all that was left to do was taste test.

“I’m sorry again, Princess,” the model in disguise apologized once more after taking another bite of his cupcake.

“You wouldn’t be a budding baker without a mess,” Marinette replied in an almost sagely tone. “I had a good laugh, so it all worked out in the end.”

“But I will make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to, minou.”

“I want to.”

Marinette knew at this point there was no winning with him when he got hooked on an idea. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I really wish I could draw, or at least had the funds to pay someone to draw, because I would’ve loved for you guys to have a visual of the outfits.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#Marichat May #Marichat #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #story time

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pinkletterday · 6 years

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Prelude: Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Iris West

Rating: All Audiences

Summary: “Aw hell, no!” says Linda. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!”

Tags: Iris West goes wedding dress shopping with her girls, Sara Lance is the Westallen fairygodmother, the wedding my babies deserved, apologies for the lack of Felicity, author was really mad at the time

Notes: Am I procrastinating life by posting old fics on tumblr? Why yes I am.

This was my oldest fic for this fandom and my first in ten years.

Part 1 of the Westallen Wedding Album

It is seven in the morning and someone is ringing the doorbell. The universe really does hate them. Iris is too demoralized to care at this point.

“Go away,” calls Barry from under the covers, clutching Iris like a security blanket.

“It’s me, Caitlin. It’s urgent, open up!”

This is why they can’t ever turn their phones off. Et tu, Cait?

They shuffle fatalistically to the door in their pyjamas to let her in and Caitlin looks apologetically at the sleep-rumpled duo. “I’m sorry, guys, but they insisted.”

“Who -”

Sara bursts into the loft. “All right, everyone get dressed. Wedding’s back on, bitches!” she hollers, in full captain mode, as Catilin grimaces away. “The time is oh seven hundred hours and we have fuckton of work to do so. Ass in gear, folks!”

Barry and Iris blink at her like injured meerkats. “...What?” They notice a flustered Cecile trailing in after Sara, followed by an offensively bright-eyed and bushy tailed Kara, and… “Linda?”

“What up, girl,” greets Linda Park, hugging a stunned Iris. She appears to have a distinctly fresh-from-airport-hell brand of dishevelment and the vibrating energy of a sports writer on Redbull.

“How are you here?" asks Barry in confusion. "You said in your RSVP that you’d be at your family thing in Oklahoma-,”

“Yeah so I did and I was and then I got a hysterical call from the kidterns at CCPN that your wedding had been bombed by Nazis. Followed by news footage of Central City being attacked by actual, honest-to-God Nazis and then beaten back by a mess of leather fetish-types...you get the idea. In conclusion: Nazis. Seriously, guys, what the hell!” Linda throws her hands up at them with a bewildered expression.

Barry slumps onto the couch with a groan and Iris drops wearily beside him, making a helpless gesture that is somehow supposed to convey “we couldn’t tell you if we knew/ the universe hates us/ it is written/ this is our life now". They lean against each other like sad puppies.

“Anyway, the point is, you guys are getting married today. Properly.” presses Sara.

“Can’t,” grunts Barry.

“What d’you mean, can’t?”

“Lost all our deposits. Tux ruined. Guests flew home after martial law was declared. Fire. Murder. Plague.”

“My dress survived but I frankly don’t even want to see it again,” says Iris sadly. “That thing cost five thousand dollars and now all I remember when I see it is our minister getting vaporized. Oh God.” She hides her face in Barry’s shoulder, stifling a sob, as he puts a comforting arm around her.

“Ok, yes, we figured,” interjects Kara, advancing with a "hear-me-out" demeanor. “But guys. This is all fixable! And we’re gonna fix it! You still want to get married, right?” She looked expectantly at them, a golden retreiver puppy convinced of the world's innate goodness.

“Well yeah,” says Barry, scratching his head. “But Iris and I are just thinking to going to a Justice of Peace-”

“Aw hell, no!” cries Linda, making Barry jump. Redbull and sports are just not a good combination for this early in the morning. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!”

The other women all nod, appearing to agree on the connection between propping up the wedding industry and patriotism. “She’s right,” says Caitlin the Betrayer, staunchly.

“And exactly how are we supposed to do that?” asks Iris with some asperity. She doesn’t particularly care about truth or justice or whatever the American way is supposed to be right now, unless the American way involves a bubble bath with Barry, sex and some post-coital Netflix.

“You leave that to us,” says Cecile firmly, sitting herself next to Iris. She takes her hand with a maternal air. “Iris, you and Barry aren’t alone in any of this. You have your family. Your friends. We have resources. Let us do this for you.”

“Cecile, that’s really sweet, believe me, but we’re just too tired-”

“That’s why you don’t have to lift a finger,” says Linda determinedly. “Except to put a ring on it. Look, I used to work part time as a wedding co-ordinator in college. I still have contacts. Just give me and Cecile your wedding binder and go find a dress. We can throw you the shindig of your dreams and get you married off before tomorrow morning.”

There is a chorus of "yeahs!" and "all rights!" and even a "whoo!" from Caitlin, who immediately looks embarrassed and subsides mid hand-pump.

“Where do I find a dress to get married in this evening?” says Iris hopelessly.

Sara smirks. “Did you know the Waverider has a fabrication room?”

“What’s a fabrication room?” asks Barry, Iris and Caitlin

“What’s a Waverider?” asks Linda and Cecile.

Sara grins smugly at Iris. “Just call me your fairy godmother, Cinderella.”

___

“I’m in a timeship,” Iris hears Linda say aloud to herself for the umpteenth time. “A timeship with a giant dress up room. With superheroes. Shopping for bridal gowns. For the Flash’s fiancee.”

Iris is the dressing cubicle and can't see anyone, but can picture Linda swigging her third glass of champagne, fluffing the white feather boa she had wound around her shoulders. She had decided that she didn't feel right drinking champagne in a fancy dressing room without a wearing one.

“Linda, honey, you’ve been saying that since we got here,” sighs Cecile, relegated to sparkling grape juice, but seated comfortably on the Persian rug. “It’s not really helping.”

They are in the Waverider's fabrication room, which Gideon had science babbled at them about reconstructing garments and accessories via subatomic teleportation and reassembly, and what Sara had simply described as "the Waverider communal closet". Except the "communal" part being all of time and history, apparently. It honestly just looks like a hi-tech walk-in closet from Dr. Who, only with outfits atomizing into being inside a cubicle once its design is selected from a 3D holographic projection.

"Anyone want more cake?” Ray Palmer, ex-billionaire and apparently current time traveller, calls out sunnily.

“Ooh, me me me!” says Kara enthusiastically from where she has been vamping in a crinoline in front of the mirror. “Oh my God, Ray, is that whipped cream frosting? And these strawberries taste so real!"

"The Waverider molecularly restructures any food stuffs we want," Ray says in proud tones. "Although, I usually prefer to get the raw ingredients and make recipes by hand. The champagne is all Gideon's work, though."

"That’s so cool, Gideon!" enthuses Kara.

“Thank you Miss Zor-El,” Gideon's disembodied voice resounds around the room. “This is high praise coming from a race as advanced as the Kryptonians.”

“You’re welcome and thank you!” Kara says happily. “My ship has an A.I but it has my mother’s personality imprint, so it can be kind of a bummer sometimes. Allura definitely hasn’t made me alcohol,” then mutters more quietly, “despite trying to drive me to it.”

“Wait, you have a ship too?” Cecile and Caitlin chorus in surprise.

“What’s a Kryptonian?” wonders Linda.

“Yeah, I have a ship. It’s how I got to earth. Krypton is my home planet,” Kara explains casually. Cecile and Linda are obviously still bemused. “I’m an alien,” Kara clarifies.

There is a stunned silence.

“I’m in a talking timeship,” intones Linda, swigging her drink, “with an alien. Eating cake. Shopping for dresses for-” she’s cut off when Iris throws a cloud of tulle on her head.

“Knock it off, Park,” Iris says, stepping out of the dressing room. “How do I look?” she smoothes down the sugar white confection expectantly, which somehow manages to be both creamy and frothy.

There is some diplomatic hemming and hawwing from the crowd. “Well, it’s a bit…,” Caitlin hesitates and pulls at the back of the synthetic white sheathe.

“Like someone dipped you in a vat of Ray’s frosting,” says Sara bluntly, looking up at her upside down from where she's sprawled on the floor. “And before that you looked like something from a Lady Gaga music video. Really, Iris, are you even taking this seriously?”

“I thought it was funny!” protests Iris, returning to searching through the ship’s dress archive on the holographic display. “What about the one before that?”

“You looked like Queen Elizabeth,” says Linda, flatly. “Present day Queen Elizabeth. What was with the hat?”

“Wow, tough crowd," Iris tries to laugh it off only to be met with skeptical stares. She sags.

“I just. It feels like tempting fate again, you know?” she says quietly. “Ever since I was a kid, I really wanted to dress like a princess at my wedding and it almost came true...three times. I just feel like the minute I put on a wedding dress again, I’m going to bring giant killer robots down on us, or one of us is going to get kidnapped by an evil megalomaniac and replaced by a frog-eating clone-”

“What’d you mean frog-eating clones?” interjects Linda in panic, clutching her boa. “Oh my God, is that an actual thing too?”

“Probably,” says Sara with supreme unconcern from the floor. She pulls herself upright and looks at Iris seriously in the eyes. “Look, I understand what you’re saying. You don’t have to wear a wedding dress if you don’t want to. You can wear a pantsuit or a gunny sack and none of us will care.

But I think you really do want that princess dress. This is all about saving your dream. You can’t let fear make you make decisions that you’ll regret down the line.” There is a murmur of sympathy and assent from the others.

“You only get married once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris with a deep understanding.

“Well, I mean, actually-,” Linda starts, but is cut off by Cecile who sternly takes her champagne glass away.

"I mean you will only marry your soulmate once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris steadily. “He’s the love of your life, Iris. You’re not going to lose him. We won’t let you. I promise.” Iris thinks she sees Caitlin’s eyes flash silver.

A solemnity descends on the group. Iris pulls Caitlin into a hug, feeling touched and grateful.

“You know, you could settle for a middle ground,” pipes up the ubiquitous Ray, making everyone start because they had forgotten he was there. “Personally, I think you’d be able to carry off a Galia Lahav like nobody’s business, but if you wanted something a little more classic, a little less elaborate, you could look to something boho like Ru De Seine or vintage feel like Amanda Garrett. Her beading is amazing. I’ve always thought ivory lace is really the thing for a fall wedding myself. Oh! And A-lines are so under-appreciated. You can always get them to flare out almost as well as a ballgown.”

There is a silence as everyone stares at Ray.

“What?” he says uncertainly. “Mick and I watch Say Yes To The Dress.”

A collective “ooh” of understanding ripples through the ladies and they turn back to Iris. “I hate that you all just came to the most obvious conclusion right now,” mutters Sara, chewing bitterly on a strawberry.

“Ray’s right,” says Kara, elbowing in front of the display screen and rifling through the database. “There’s more than one way to look like a princess. You might not be comfortable going for the full Cinderella anymore, but there’s Rapunzel and Snow White or even Greek-style like Megara-”

“Who?”

“Hercules’ girlfriend. I never understood why that movie flopped, my cousin loves it.”

"Oh, hey, me too!" exclaims Ray.

In the end, after a heated debate about Disney between Kara and Ray, a decimated whipped cream cake and a large pile of discarded lace, tulle and chiffon, Iris finds the perfect fit. It's an ivory A-line overlaid in lace. The assymetrical drop waist flares to the ground in a fall of tulle, the deep sweetheart neckline, ruched bodice and delicate cap sleeves covered in exquisite crystal beading. It's sweet and summery and simple. Safe. It makes her feel right.

There is a hush of approval, broken by Sara’s irreverent wolf-whistle.

"I would call that a Snow White look," pronounced Kara.

“Nice one, West,” Linda concurs as Cecile coos over it and Caitlin inspects the beading.

“By the way, Iris, Barry called,” informs Caitlin, as she pulls on Iris' skirts. “He said to tell you he’s decided to include Harry and Wally in the bridal party this time around, and I quote, “Tag, you’re it!”

“It? What are you?” asks Linda in confusion.

“Down three bridesmaids, that’s what I am!" huffs Iris, hands on her hips. She surveys her current retinue. “Okay, then. Sara, Kara, Linda, you’re up!”

The three women’s heads jerk up at Iris’ authoritative tone. “Up for what?”

“You’re in my bridal party now. Best find dresses!” grins Iris, “That’s what happens when you save a girl’s planet and her wedding. I mean,” she suddenly feels a little uncertain, “if you are up for it?”

In answer, Kara, Linda and Sara cheer and surround Iris, pulling her into a group hug, while Caitlin and Cecile raise their glasses at her proudly.

____

Iris doesn’t see them again for hours after sorting out the bridal wear, being summarily banished to her father’s house. She would have preferred to go home but found that her fiancé had banned her from the premises. Iris objects.

“Are we doing the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony thing again? Because a lot of good that did us last time,” Iris huffs into the phone, going downstairs to intrepidly investigate the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.

“No, I just don’t want you here cause I’m working on a wedding gift for you,” says Barry, over a mysterious banging of pots and pans. “And you may not crack a joke about my family jewels.”

“I would never joke about those, Barry,” says Iris seriously. "Your family jewels are very important to me." She hears the distinctive ding of- “wait, are you baking?”

“...damn it.”

“Bartholomew! Are you baking brownies in our apartment on our wedding day without me?” exclaims Iris in indignation.

“How do you know they’re brownies?” Barry hedges in his damage control voice.

“'Cause you banned me from the loft! I know you, you duplicitous, conniving-,”

“Look, we both know you are fundamentally untrustworthy around things with chocolate in them,” says Barry firmly. “You’re like the Leonard Snart of baked goods.”

“But why can’t I have brownies on my wedding day?” Iris whines. She nearly collides with her father, who is bustling about the kitchen in an apron.

“You can,” says Barry patiently. “It’s for the wedding.”

“I thought Oliver was taking care of the catering?” says Iris, confused.

“Yes, he’s footing the bill for the entire thing, so I told him to keep it simple and homely. He feels really bad about what happened to us.”

“Why?” Iris shrugs, “He didn’t crash our wedding.”

“He’s a rich kid, they throw money at people’s problems until they feel better,” snarks Barry and Iris giggles. “So I heard your Dad and Clarissa and some others are making it a kind of potluck, as much to reign Oliver in as anything, and...I wanted you to have your mother’s brownies on your special day.”

Iris melts. “Awww, babe. That is so sweet. And frustrating. Now I don’t know who I want to eat more," she purrs seductively, "you or the brownies.”

“You do know I can hear you, right?” Joe pops up from behind the kitchen counter with an unimpressed expression, making Iris jump.

“Er, yeah okay. So," Iris awkwardly skitters around, to notice - "Hey, is that why Dad’s making Grandma Esther’s sweet potato pie?” She starts to break off a bit of crust, only to be whacked decisively on the knuckles with a spoon. “OW!”

“Those are for the guests this evening, missy!” reprimands Joe, “Out of my kitchen! Git!”

“But it’s my wedding!” Iris wails fruitlessly into the phone as her father chases her out of the room with a spatula.

____

In the afternoon, Iris gets dressed in her new wedding gown, ignoring the flutter of trepidation she feels as Caitlin buttons her up. Cecile and Linda sweep her hair into a high messy bun that lets soft curls spill around her face and neck, pinning a single full-blown crimson rose on the side of her head right above the cascade of her grandmother’s veil.

She wears her great-grandma Esther’s pearl earrings and her mother’s replica wedding bands on a gold chain that Barry had given her (so very long ago now and not long ago at all) around her neck. Cecile kisses her cheek and fastens her little turquoise bracelet around Iris’ wrist “for something both borrowed and blue”. She laughs as she slips her feet into the pair of transparent “glass” heels that Kara had found for her.

Her bridesmaids are in dusty rose gowns gathered at the waist, with skirts that swish playfully around their calves. Delicate aster and camellia flower crowns nestle on their loose waves of hair and they all carry small posies of riotously colourful wildflowers that speak of the fall.

Barry is waiting with his groomsmen downstairs as they descend. Wally, Cisco, Harry and Oliver are in sport coats with matching autumn boutonnieres. Barry has also ditched the tux in favour of a grey suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and is holding her bouquet of crimson and spray roses. He looked so very dashing in his tux, but Iris is glad that he looks more casual today, slightly mussed, more her geeky, pretty, boyish Barry.

He does not look at her as though he would cry, as he had the first time she had walked down the aisle to him. Instead his expression is open and soft, steady, like he knows how afraid she is and he is right there with her, waiting to catch her and keep her safe. It’s a look that makes her feel like he’s holding her in his arms from across a room.

Iris’ father carefully pulls her into a hug, engulfing her one last time in his solid, reassuring warmth and Dad-scent before he takes her hand and puts it in Barry’s. It’s an acknowledgement of putting something where it has always belonged, rather than entrusting it all over again to another. Iris is fleetingly amused by the thought that Joe may have accepted Barry as her son-in-law when they were first married by a giant dinosaur at the age of ten.

Barry gives her her bouquet and pulls her to him, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she smiles. "I see you got my present." She fingers the small gold bolts of lightning on his shirt cuffs.

"I did," Barry says with a pleased grin. "They're awesome. Thanks, honey. But I think I still win with the brownies."

"Damn it, you're right," grumbles Iris. "Why are you so competitive all the time?"

Barry gives her a sardonic look and draws her into his arms as she giggles. His expression turns reverent as he gazes down at her.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, looking at her like he can't believe she's real. Iris feels cocooned in happiness. “How do you make me want you more every day?”

She focuses on pinning a crimson rose next to his lapel and blinks back tears. “I bet you say that to all the girls you marry,” Iris quips.

“Yes,” he teases back, “since you are all the girls I’m ever going to marry.”

Iris laughs, and smooths his coat. “So, want to give this thing one last try, Mr. Allen?”

Barry's eyes are resolute and tender. “I’ll never stop trying until you’re mine, Miss West.”

She presses the rose stem against his heart, and his hand covers hers over it. They follow their wedding party and walk out of their childhood home, hand in hand.

~~~~

#the westallen wedding album #westallen #barry allen x iris west #myfic #fanfic #the flash

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albedosoyna · 7 years

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I Wish ...

Era: Brotherhood Relationship: Gladio/Ignis - Gladnis Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Monica Elshett, Cor Leonis, Iris Amicitia, Noctis Lucis Caelum Content: Wedding, Dancing, Dreaming, Sap Rating: PG

Day 5: 5 times Gladio carried Ignis & 1 time Ignis carried Gladio / Marriage

Summary: A marriage that was overdue in the eyes of many. No, not them. No, not them either.