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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

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Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part One)

When Harry woke up, his head was pounding and his heart was racing, he thought he might vomit. He staggered over to the floo to firecall in to work.

Robards answered, "Junior Auror Potter, good morning."

"Hello, sir," he said before his stomach heaved and he had to turn away and take a few deep breaths to steady himself. "I need to call in sick, sir. I think I've got a virus."

"What are your symptoms?" he asked curiously.

"Really bad headache, it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my head; elevated pulse; and nausea."

His brow furrowed, "Who was your training partner yesterday?"

"Malfoy, sir," he said, his gut twisting uncomfortably.

"Where did you go?"

"Excuse me-" he broke off and held up a hand, turning away from the fireplace to try to get his bearings as his stomach tried to eject itself through his esophagus. After a moment he turned back, "We were sent to that old antique shop, sir," he said as quickly as he could manage.

"You're going to need to go to St. Mungo's."

"I don't-"

"That's not a request, Potter. Go there now and I'll be sending Junior Auror Malfoy right along."

"But-" Harry started.

"No buts, Malfoy called in with the same symptoms and I'm not taking any chances," and without another word he ended their connection.

With a sigh and one more longing look at his bed, Harry headed to St. Mungos.

(Read more below the cut)

They ended up putting Malfoy in the same room as him since they were there at the Ministry's behest and with the same symptoms. Harry tried not to look at him, imagining that getting irritated would only worsen his ever growing headache. Malfoy must have felt the same because he was less annoying that usual.

Healer Kenner, a stern looking woman who reminded Harry very much of Professor McGonagall, ran diagnostic test after diagnostic test and then finally said, "Well, you're bonded."

"What?" Harry yelped.

Malfoy groaned, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Language, Auror Malfoy," she tsked.

"Apologies."

With a short nod, she continued, "The good news is that most of your discomfort can be alleviate by simple physical contact."

"And the bad news?" Harry asked wryly.

"There's nothing we can do to break the bond."

"What?" Malfoy spat.

"Surely, there's something-" Harry started.

She shook her head, "I'm afraid not. But it's not permanent," Healer Kenner added. "It'll only last a month."

"A month?!" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well it's certainly better than forever," Malfoy snarked, rubbing his hands over his face.

Harry wondered if Malfoy's head hurt as much as his did. He certainly hoped so.

But before he could say anything, Healer Kenner raised her wand and cast a spell the dragged their beds across the floor to the other. "Hold hands," she instructed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and Malfoy let out a pitiful groan.

"The sooner you do it, the sooner you'll start to feel better," she chided. "Just be glad that this particular bond only wants prolonged physical contact."

Harry shuddered, he'd heard the stories about some of the more archaic bonds.

"Oh, for Circe's sake," Malfoy grumbled as he reached across the space between them and clasped Harry's forearm in his hand.

A sense of relief hit immediately, Harry groaned as a weight lifted off his chest and the headache started receding.

"It will be faster if you both actively participate."

At this point, as the waves of relief were rolling through him, Harry was willing to do anything. He flipped over his hand, offering it to Malfoy.

The other man slid his hand down Harry's arm, as though he was afraid to break contact with him, and clasped Harry's hand in his.

She was right, his world seemed to right itself as they sat there holding hands and he let his head drop back against the bed as he took full, deep breaths for what felt like the first time in ages.

"How long do we have before it starts to feel like that again?" Malfoy asked, which Harry could admit was a good question.

She hummed, "I'd say two hours maximum before the discomfort starts affecting the way you function." After a short pause, Healer Kenner added, "You're going to probably want to spend nights together."

"Can't we just see each other in the morning?" Malfoy asked.

And Harry couldn't help but agree, "This wasn't that bad," he added. "And now that we know-"

She shook her head, "Now that your bodies are acknowledging the bond, the effects will set in quicker."

"Great," Harry grumbled. "Just bloody fantastic."

This day just kept going from bad to worse. He had no idea how he was going to tell everyone that he had an accidental bonding with Draco sodding Malfoy.

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They argued about whose house to stay in overnight and finally decided to flip a coin for it. Draco won.

And that was how Harry found himself standing with a duffel bag outside of a surprisingly cute little house, knocking and waiting to be let in.

"Potter," Malfoy greeted as he opened the door to let him in.

And Harry wondered if he was feeling the bond tugging at his skin, too, if the bond was making his gut clench and making him feel irritable and like there was something crawling under his skin. "Can I-?" he started through gritted teeth, reaching a hand toward Malfoy but stopping a few inches away.

Malfoy nodded and closed the distance between them.

The moment he touched the other man his body sagged with relief, swaying back against the doorway.

After a moment, Malfoy released his hand and gestured toward the rest of his house, "Come in," he said. "It's nothing fancy," Malfoy said, "But it's home and it's not something that my family owned."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that statement, so he just focused on looking around the house as Malfoy gave him the tour. Malfoy was right, it wasn't anything fancy but it was surprisingly cozy. It was nothing like Harry had expected; he'd imagined black leather and green decor, dark and broody. But the house was the opposite, the closest anything got to Slytherin green was the sea form green accents in the bathroom. "You have a nice house," Harry said.

"You needn't sound surprised," Malfoy said with a sniff, "I have excellent taste," he added as he opened the door to the bedroom.

The bedroom had pale blue walls and cream bedding, the dresser and wardrobe were both a dark wood that Harry couldn't identify. All in all, it was a nice room, very relaxing.

"You can use this drawer," Malfoy said, flicking his wand at the second drawer to open it, "And I cleared a space for you in the closet."

"Err, thanks," Harry said.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't mention it. I know it's hard for you to believe but I can actually be considerate when the mood strikes."

Before Harry could reply, Malfoy left the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'm making salmon and rice for dinner. If you don't like it you can make something for yourself."

This wasn't quite what he'd expected, Malfoy wasn't quite what he expected, he thought as he put his clothes away. Maybe Malfoy wasn't who Harry thought he was.

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Nope. Malfoy was precisely who Harry thought he was. The two of them had spent the entire night arguing about literally everything: about using coasters (when they were wizards and removing water stains was no big deal), about which clothes Harry should have hung or left folded, about the proper way to do the dishes, about their friends and the kind of people they were, and dozens of other things that made Harry want to tear his hair out.

They were still bickering when they went to bed because Malfoy had the nerve to critique the way Harry brushed his teeth and to demand that Harry wash his face before he get into bed.

"I'm not letting the oil in your skin damage my pillowcases!"

"My skin doesn't damage pillowcases," Harry snapped. "I have pillowcases too, you know, and none of them have oil stains."

"Potter wash your fucking face or I am covering your pillow with a paper bag," Malfoy threatened. "It's not a fucking hard request. It will take you literally two minutes."

"Fine!" Harry shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the bathroom.

When he came out, Malfoy was already on the left side of the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, reading a book. "Was that so hard?" he drawled.

"Oh fuck off," Harry grumbled as took off his glasses and he threw himself down on the right side of the bed, punching a pillow for the sheer pleasure of punching something.

"You're such a bloody neanderthal," Malfoy grumbled without looking up at Harry.

"Shut up!" Harry finally erupted. "For Merlin's sake just shut up and I will, too."

Malfoy glanced over at him, looking unperturbed which honestly made Harry even more frustrated.

"It's going to take me ages to fall asleep because I'm so fucking irritated."

After a moment, Malfoy reached over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's the bond," he said quietly. "We're not touching often enough and it's making us lash out."

"I don't think we need any help in that department," Harry grumbled but he could admit that he was feeling better already.

Malfoy chuckled, "You're right about that, I suppose."

He shook his head and reached up to cover Malfoy's hand with his own and expedite the process. "This does help though," he said with a yawn.

The other man hummed, "I think we should agree now that whenever either of us wakes up over night that we'll reach out and touch the other so we can get as much sleep as possible."

Through a yawn Harry murmured, "Sounds reasonable." He closed his eyes, surprised at how tired he was feeling all of the sudden. "Merlin, I'm knackered."

"Do you mind if I leave the light on to read for a while?" Malfoy asked.

He opened one eye to look at Malfoy's blurry face, "That's nice of you to ask," he said. "I don't mind."

"Are you certain?"

He nodded. "Night."

"Good night," Malfoy replied, going back to his book but leaving his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry drifted off, asleep in minutes.

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When Harry woke up again, the sun was peaking in through the curtains and he felt fantastic. He blinked open his eyes and realized that at some point during the night he and Malfoy had shifted, drifting until Harry's front was pressed tight against Malfoy's back, his body curled around the other man's.

He really ought to move.

But he was just so comfortable and his body was warm and loose and he just couldn't bring himself to move away.

It wasn't long before Malfoy started to shift, waking up slowly and Harry panicked. He did the only thing that he could think of and feigned sleep.

Malfoy arched and stretched, pressing his body back against Harry's for a long, delicious moment before he jumped, seeming to realize what he was doing. Then he held very still like he was waiting for something and Harry wondered if he was waiting for him to say something. When Harry didn't move and continued pretending to sleep Malfoy carefully withdrew himself and climbed out of bed to head to the loo.

Harry laid there for a long moment, missing the warmth of the other man's body, missing the way they'd seemed to fit together already.

Just the bond, he assured himself. This was all just the bond.

Right?

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Ahhh friends, I'm sorry. I hate to leave you like this but this one's going to need a part two. This girl is exhausted and this fic(let) is taking way longer than anticipated to write. I'll get part two written and posted tomorrow. <3 Lots of love, C

Part 2

Day 124: Joke | Day 126: Arranged Marriage

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #Accidental Bonding Part 1 #sorry friends #I'll get the second part up tomorrow #drarry #aurors #auror harry #auror draco malfoy #enemies to friends #friends to lovers #check back for part 2 tomorrow

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albatrossmuffin · 3 years

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Birthday Story: Rei

Translation of Birthday Story: Sousuke can be found right here still because pfort still hasn’t gotten their sh*t together yet lol:

However they are supposed to return April 29th, so once the dust settles I’ll post this, Nao’s, and Sousuke’s properly over there with the scans and stuff; I’ll link on each post when that happens.

Here’s the link to Rei’s post.

There is also a brief reference to Nagisa’s birthday story if you wanted to take a look here.

(Thank you so much for said scans, @softmakoharus!)

Birthday Story #08 Rei

In the silence, I took a deep breath. My head is clearing just like clear water.

Today is a special day for me. My digital wristwatch indicates it is 6:30am. I woke up earlier than usual, and my daily running, which I had started one hour earlier, was already nearing the end of the course.

I suppose the morning sun will rise shortly; the sky is moving from darkness to a dim light.

I remember that Nagisa-kun had sent me a picture of the sunrise previously. If I recall it was around 4:00am, and I was late in noticing. Nagisa-kun had seemed dissatisfied, saying “Even though I wanted you to look at it immediately, Rei-chan~~!”, but it is a fact that I had been enchanted by the beauty of the photo.

—I wonder, if Nagisa-kun received a photo of the sunrise from me, would he be pleased?

When bathed in sunlight, serotonin is secreted in large quantities, and the brain is activated. Considering it theoretically, there is no doubt that I can take a photo in my best condition. And on the coast near here, as well, there should have been one of Nagisa-kun’s treasured “Best Sunrise Spots.” I stray from my usual running course and continue running.

Twelve minutes left until sunrise. I’ll make it to my destination without any problems. Imagining Nagisa-kun’s surprised face, I felt the corners of my mouth rise. The sea begins to spread out before of me.

One minute and twenty-two seconds until sunrise…… I readied my smartphone camera towards the horizon. I open my legs to shoulder-width apart and tighten my upper arms to my body. I put my finger on the shutter button, and then—

“Rei-chaaaan!”

“Douuwaaah!!”

An innocent face that I knew well was projected on the entire screen.

“What are you doing in a place like this? Your morning running course; it’s the opposite direction, right?”

“Eh, ah, well! Today…by chance…”

Why is Nagisa-kun……it’s no good, my brain isn’t working. It’s Nagisa-kun’s pace. It seems my serotonin hasn’t been secreted yet.

“I came to take a picture of the sunrise! I thought I’d make it a present to you, Rei-chan!”

Eh…….I frantically search for words. The moment I tried to say something, Nagisa-kun’s outline began to shine. The sunlight leaking out from the horizon is slowly enveloping Nagisa-kun and I. A warm light.

“Beautiful…”

That was the only word I could find.

“Even though I thought to make it more of a proper present, the sunrise.”

Once Nagisa-kun murmured this quietly, he then leapt out and stood in front of me.

“Rei-chan, happy birthday! Let’s keep being good friends!”*

I wonder if it’s because of the sunrise; Nagisa-kun’s smile appeared to shine more than usual.

“Nagisa-kun…shall we take a photo together?”

We took a photo with the sunrise as a backdrop, and we shared it with everyone in the swim club via a messaging app. Replies came back right away.

Gou: “Rei-kun, happy birthday! Everyone is perfectly ready!”

Romio: “Yes, for Captain Rei’s party, the decorations look really good!

Shizuru: “I’m at the fish market. Please look forward to fresh seafood ◎”

Ayumu: “Captain Rei, you’re up early! Happy birthday! I’m in the process of preparing the Kunikida family’s secret dashi!”

“Everyone, from this early in the morning…”

“Fufu. Eeeveryone loves you, Rei-chan!”

I held back firmly so that the welling up of emotion would not overflow.

Nagisa-kun stretches lightly.

“Allll right! I have to go home and get the cake ready, too! Like you, Rei-chan, I also worked extra hard at cake-making! Ehehe, I hope you’ll be pleased!”

Eh! Even though we were together every day I hadn’t noticed at all. Or rather, when it was Nagisa-kun’s birthday, the fact that I’d been doing intensive training in cake-making had been found out! Without regard to me, who’d instantly turned red to my ears, Nagisa-kun waved and left, saying “Well then, see you later!”

I also went home for a moment and washed off the sweat. I put on an orange-brown knit and head to the party venue. It’s the same place where we held Nagisa-kun’s birthday party.

Upon entering the room, brightly colored masterpieces adorned the table. The salmon carefully selected by Shizuru-kun had been transformed into a gorgeous California roll via Romio-kun’s arrangement; Ayumu-san’s dashi that she took great pride in was made into seafood soup, and Gou-san served it onto a dish. And also, Nagisa-kun’s cake that he’d made with all his might welcomed me in with its magnificent appearance.

During the party, I received many messages of celebration on my smartphone from Rin-san, Sousuke-san, Aiichirou-kun, and everyone from Samezuka. Happiness and some feelings of embarrassment mix together.

I got a call from Makoto-senpai, too.

“Rei, happy birthday!”

Makoto-senpai’s voice heard on a special day echoed more gently than usual.

“Haru says he has something he definitely wants to show you, Rei, so he’s going to send a picture.”

Makoto-senpai’s voice is animated. We look at the picture that was sent, and Nagisa-kun and I looked at each other and smiled.*

In the picture, a sunrise that peeked out from the top of a mountain somewhere was shining brilliantly, in the same way as the one we saw.

Today turned out to be a truly special day for me.

Everyone, thank you very much!

Notes:

“Let’s keep being good friends” – Nagisa says “kore kara yoroshiku;” which literally is something like “let’s continue to work well together,” “I hope we can work well together from now on,” “please continue to take care of me from now on,” etc., It’s a ridiculously versatile phrase, so I picked the translation that best fit the context.

“smiled” – This verb means to smile or laugh depending on context, and since the only context given was they looked at each other, it could be either one.

This is more of an FYI than a note, but when Makoto says they’re sending a picture, there is no subject for that part of the sentence; it could very well be Makoto helping Haru send the picture (but certainly by now they taught him to send a picture right lol)

#free!#ryugazaki rei #birthday story #my translation

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underoossss · 3 years

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A Christmas Plan [1 /2] - H.O

pairing: Harrison Osterfield x f!reader

words: around 2k

warnings: none, just lots of yearning

AN: lmaoooo guess who’s back just in time for the holidays!!! Sorry for being so MIA and my crazy update schedule, things have been crazy in my mind my life and the world. I asked for prompts a while back and @hollandharrison asked for a best friends to loves fic with the prompt “It’s so hard not to fall in love with you.” SINCE ITS XMAS I DECIDED TO MAKE IT A XMAS FIC! This is a best friends to lovers, fake dating, mutual pinning, wedding and oh no there’s only one bed fic! Enjoy! And please leave some feedback I’d love to know if you enjoyed it. Part 2 on Friday!!!!! I hope you like this Rosalie!! ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

———-

There’s jazzy Christmas music playing in the busy restaurant, it’s Holly Jolly Christmas, you think as you try to listen over the chatter coming from the various tables surrounding you. The restaurant’s floor is cream colored, shiny, and marble glazed. There are fancy lamps hanging from the ceiling and many plants in expensive looking pots all over the main entrance and windows. One wouldn’t think one the best burgers you’ve tried in your life comes from a fancy restaurant in London like this, or that it’s the only thing you and your best friend order from the menu. It’s only during special occasions that the two of you meet to enjoy them, as the bill is quite high and always a problem. Harrison always wants to pay, and so do you. Right now, though, as fancy dishes like salmon, ravioli and gorgeous little desserts are being served all around, you’re not sure if you can even eat anything at all.

Nervous is an understatement. You arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes early to rehearse what you wanted to say and get ready for the likely rejection that could follow, but from the moment you sat down, you’ve done nothing but fidget with the napkin in front of you. The beautiful swan that had been placed on your plate when you arrived is nowhere in sight, it is only a wrinkled square in your hands.

“The worst that can happen is that he’ll say no.” You whisper to yourself, reaching for the glass of iced water next to your empty plate. “Harrison won’t judge or get mad because you asked.” Nodding to yourself you bring the glass to your lips and look around as you take a sip.

You nearly choke on your water when your eyes land on the main door and see Harrison walk into the restaurant. You’re quick to put the glass down and dab your chin with the napkin in front of you to make yourself presentable again and not caught off guard. Being 15 minutes early didn’t prepare you enough for this. He is like an apparition, dressed in brown checkered pants, a white t-shirt and a plaid brown jacket the host is soon to take from his shoulders. His dark blonde curls are styled backward, just enough to tame them but not too much that they look neatly combed. It’s just… perfect. You can’t look away from him, he is gorgeous, so much in fact that you have to make sure your jaw isn’t hanging right before he spots you. His smile is bright as the sun when he raises his hand a little and waves at you.

You can’t help but smile back as fireworks go off in your stomach from being at the receiving end of his. You fear that these fireworks will fly out of your mouth and ears before exploding around the whole restaurant if you’re not careful. Yeah, that wouldn’t be ideal.

You stand up when he reaches the table and embrace him. He’s warm and hugs you back tightly so you let your eyes close as you take enjoy his embrace. “Harrison! It’s so great to see you.”

“Tell me about it! I’ve missed you so much.” Harrison says once you step back and sit back down. Harrison takes his phone out of his pocket to sit down, then proceeds to turn it off and set it on the table. “It’s been what, two weeks? My schedule has been crazy, sorry I haven’t had time to hang out. You look beautiful by the way.”

You are still looking at his phone, not containing your smile at the small but very meaningful gesture before you meet his gaze again. “Oh! Thank you, so do you.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you glance down at your outfit. It’s a mid-length burgundy silk dress on top of a black long sleeve blouse with ruffles on the sleeves, a belt and black booties. “That’s alright, you don’t need to apologize Haz. We always try to make time to meet every once in a while, and here we are.” Everyone is busy, especially during this time of the year, when any free time is consumed by shopping, gift wrapping or preparing for any Christmas tradition.

Harrison is about to say something else when the server arrives. She’s tall and gorgeous and barely spares you a glance before addressing Harrison, all smiles and charm. “Have you had enough time to check the menu? What can I get for you?”

You move your gaze away from them and focus on fidgeting with the ruffle of your shirt sleeve. Better to let Harrison flirt back and give her his number if he wants without you looking. You’re forced to bite the inside of your cheek and think of something else other than the interaction in front of you, doubting if you’re still going to ask him or not. That all stops when you hear Harrison call your name, which makes you look up and meet his eyes.

He is smiling at you with a curious tilt to his head. “The usual, right love?”

You feel your chest warm at the smile he gives you and the endearment that makes the server twist her lips sourly. She loses all interest in the guy in front of you when you nod at Harrison, answering his question.

His smile turns even brighter for a second and he closes the menu. “We’ll have two of the Chef’s burgers with fries for the side dish and ketchup for the beautiful lady here.” The server nods and writes the order down.

“Drinks?” She asks, her tone much different than it was a minute ago.

This time it is you that speaks up. “Iced tea for me, please, and he’ll have a glass of lemonade.”

“As usual.” Harrison smiles and winks your way.

You roll your eyes playfully, dismissing the feelings your heart is bringing to the surface at the moment. Another server brings breadsticks with dipping sauces over to the table before you’re both left alone.

“How have you been?” Harrison asks while placing his napkin on his lap and reaching for a breadstick.

You take another sip of water. “Great actually. I got promoted at work.”

He puts his breadstick down, a smile appearing on his lips. “What! That’s amazing Y/N!! Congratulations!”

A laugh leaves your lips as you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you Haz. I’m the marketing manager now, which is pretty cool.”

“That’s huge, love, and well deserved as well. You’ve done an amazing job there since you started as an intern.” Harrison continues to praise you and you feel your face and ears burning up at his words and enthusiasm.

You smile, you’ve loved your job from day one and as years have gone by you’ve been constantly improving, but the promotion is still a bit of a shock. With another shrug of your shoulders, you thank Harrison again, knowing that his congratulations are genuine.

“What have you been doing?” You ask this time, wanting to know how filming for his upcoming project had gone. “Filming went alright?”

“Yeah, it went brilliant! We’re all done now but I still have to record some additional audio next week for a couple of days.” His eyes light up and he smiles while he talks about the series, making your heart warm. You know how much he’s worked to get the role and being cast as the main character, the Prince of England in fact, in a Netflix series had been his dream come true.

“So, the Prince of England has been busy.” You tease, resting your chin on your palm. Harrison only chuckles and looks away almost shyly. “I’m so happy for you and so proud, truly. This is going to be huge, Haz.”

“We’ll have to see, but yes I think it can be. Thank you.” He meets your gaze, a soft smile on his lips and an indecipherable look in his eyes. You smile at him for a couple more seconds before the food coming to your table makes you look away.

Your orders are served in front of you and the drinks placed by your side when you remember why you asked Harrison to meet you for lunch. The thought makes you nervous all over again as you pick up a fry and use it to poke the other ones on the plate.

“What’s on your mind?” Harrison asks, looking at you curiously. “Something tells me this isn’t just about your promotion and my new role. You’ve never been so hesitant to eat your fries before.”

You sigh and look at him again, he knows you too well, which is why you think this might work. Summoning all the courage you have you open your mouth to utter your proposal. “My cousin, Travis, is getting married on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh yeah I remember Travis, nice bloke. You need a plus on at the wedding?” Harrison takes a sip of his lemonade before leaning forward, giving you all his attention.

“It’s more complicated than that.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “The wedding is going to be at the family’s country house, but most of the family will go to the house on the 22nd until the wedding. They want to spend time together and catch up then instead of the night of Travis’ wedding.”

You finally pick up a fry and eat it, breathing in deeply to explain the most important detail. “I want to ask you to be my fake boyfriend that week.”

Harrison chuckles in disbelief, clearly thinking that you’re joking. “What?”

“Please Harrison, you’re an actor and one of my best friends so you know me better than anyone. Which make the chances of us getting caught in the lie very slim.” You look into his beautiful blue eyes to try and convince him. “Christmas is the worst time for single people. You remember my cousin Gladys?”

“Yeah. Superficial, conceited and can’t stand the conversation not being about her.” Harrison rolls his eyes. “Not to mention she’s always been rude to you.”

“She got married.” You state somberly. “Which means that because we’re the same age, every dating question from my family will be directed at me, and they’ll compare me incessantly. Not to mention her teasing and criticism will be even worse now that she has ‘accomplished’ something I haven’t.”

With another sigh you look down at your food, instantly regretting asking Harrison in the first place. You dip another fry in ketchup and chew it silently as you look around the restaurant. Harrison is staring at his food, seemingly lost in thought and hesitant to say anything. “You know what, never mind. Please forget that I asked, it’s a dumb request.”

You’ll deal with your nosy and presumptuous cousin on your own. You’re used to her criticism anyways, so you can take three more days. She’ll probably talk about her about her nose job all the time and her wedding ring, or if she’s bored, she’ll comment on your appearance. You hate it but you’re used to it.

“I’ll do it.” Harrison’s voice breaks you out of your own thoughts.

“What?” It is your turn to have a tone of disbelief. “You’ll really do it?”

“Y/N, you know you can always count on me. If this will help you have an enjoyable Christmas, then of course I’ll help you.” Harrison reaches his hand out to grab yours, its freezing and his warms it up in seconds. “Besides, can’t say no to a wedding.”

That brings a laugh out of you, your eyes glazy as they look into his. Gosh you love him, you love him so much. Will being in a fake relationship with him for three days hurt your heart once it’s over? Absolutely, but a selfish part of you wants to know how it would be, to date him whether it’s real or just pretend.

“Only if you’re sure.” You speak up, not wanting to force him into anything. “It’s only until the wedding. You’re free to spend Christmas day with your family, I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t, love.” He squeezes your hand, a soft smile on his face. “So, now that you’ve told me what made you so nervous since the moment I walked in, how about we eat.”

You chuckle and nod. “Thank you, Harrison. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Harrison smiles at you again, in that shy way he had previously done, before he steals some of your ketchup. “Now, tell me more about your promotion.” He says and takes a bite out of his burger.

The days seem to fly by between your lunch with Harrison and the 22nd. You were swamped with work all week as you got everything done and ready to leave for the holidays. It was a perk though, because it didn’t let you overthink every single scenario you could encounter with your family while lying to their faces. Hopefully you won’t be caught in your lie, and you won’t end up more heartbroken than you expect after your fake relationship with Harrison ends.

There’s a knock on your apartment door that brings you out of your own head. You take one last look around your home, making sure everything is in order before you go and greet Harrison by the door. His smile is soft just as his curls look, especially with the cream-colored sweater than brings out his eyes.

“Hello, love.” He gives you a hug. “Ready to go?”

You nod your head yes when you step away. “All ready, let me grab my bags.”

“I’ll get them.” Harrison says, stopping you from picking up your suitcase and doing it himself. “Not because you can’t but because I want to.”

You chuckle, that’s what he always says, and it always makes your heart skip a beat. “I know. Thank you.” You lock the door and make your way to the elevator where he two of you share a look before giggling.

“Last chance to back out.” You say, using a smile to mask your nerves. You need to get your feelings in check if you’re going to fake being his girlfriend. He must not know you’re actually in love with him, you’ve tried that before and he never took a hint. No use trying it now. “Oh, and what about–”

“Don’t worry about your dress, I got everything under control.” He bumps his shoulder against yours and smiles. “Trust me.”

He had asked you if you had your dress ready for the wedding during the same lunch you had asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Upon hearing you still had to go shopping for it, he had asked for your best fitting dress and claimed that he’ll handle the dress shopping. It took some insisting but finally you had agreed and given him a dress the next day, trying not to become anxious at the thought that if anything were to happen, you’d be dress-less on the day of the wedding.

Harrison opens the door for you when you both reach his car before placing your suitcase on the trunk and getting into the driver’s seat. “Here we go.” You smile, letting out a deep breath. “Who gets the aux cord first?”

“You’re the guest of honor, you’ve got dibs.” Harrison hands you cord and starts the car. “I hope you have some Christmas songs there.”

“Mhm.” You nod scrolling through your playlists to find the one you made for today. “I have a whole playlist ready.”

“I knew it.” He glances your way with a soft smile as he drives into the main road and starts to make his way to the highway. “You have Mariah Carey, right?”

You laugh. “Do you even have to ask?”

Half an hour has gone by when you bring up the plan for the next three days. The scenery that surrounds you is beautiful, though still not covered by snow, and Christmas songs are still playing through the car’s speakers. “So, let’s go over what will happen once we get to the house.” You take your journal out and find the small to-do list you had written down ever since you got the idea.

“We’ll pretend that we are a couple. If anyone asks, we got together during that trip we had with friends over the summer and we don’t have to kiss on the lips.” You keep your eyes on your journal when you bring up the kissing part, knowing that if you kissed him there would be no going back to being ‘just friends’ anymore. Your friendship would be gone. “I won’t make you do that.”

“Okay.” Harrison says, keeping his eyes on the road. “We can say that our friends set us up during the trip to finally tell each other how we feel, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Right, good idea. If they ask why they haven’t seen us together in our social media, we’ll go for the ‘we don’t need to post pictures for our relationship to be real’ route.” You glance to your right to see his profile, looking for any reaction but his face doesn’t give anything away. “And if at any time, any of us wants to stop the lie, we can.”

You look out of the window now, not wanting Harrison to see the longing in your face. The one thing you want most of the lie to be real so there will be no stopping it from your side, if you have to fake a break-up it’ll be because Harrison asks you to.

“I don’t think anyone wants a break-up during Christmas.” He chuckles and you can see on your peripheral that he’s shaking his head and smiling. “Do I know everyone that’s going to be there?”

Going back to the journal you scan the list of guests and nod. “Pretty much, yes. The ones that will be staying until the wedding are my parents, granny, my aunts Ruth, Katherine and Cass, their husbands, my 2 younger cousins, Travis with his fiancé and my dreaded cousin.”

Harrison keeps nodding as you mention the people on your list only noting that he doesn’t know your cousin’s fiancé or your aunt Katherine, but other than that he’s met all of them.

“You shouldn’t let your cousin get to you. You know?” He says after a few minutes of silence. “Just ignore her. She craves attention, if you don’t listen to her, you’ll piss her off.”

“It’s harder than that I’m afraid, she seeks out to bug me specifically.” You laugh. “But now with you, dearest boyfriend, she won’t comment on me being single while bragging about her husband and being a trophy wife.” You take his hand that’s not on the wheel and give it a squeeze.

The smile he sends your way makes an even bigger one takes over your face. “I can instead brag about my beautiful girlfriend.” Harrison says squeezing your hand when you laugh and nod.

“Alright, if you want to.” You shrug, your eyes still trained on his face. The light coming from his window makes his hair look almost golden, and it takes your breath away. You feel your ears burning though when he turns to you briefly and catches you staring.

“Y/N?” He asks, moving his gaze back to the road.

“Hm?” You wonder if he’s going to ask you to let go of his hand, but another squeeze proves you wrong.

“Relax okay, it’ll be fine.” He brings you hand to his lips and places a kiss over your knuckles. “Now, do you still have that greatest hits playlist you made a while back?”

Your heart is beating a mile a minute and it’s threatening to climb out of your throat at Harrison’s kiss, only fueling your longing. Not trusting to speak right away, you clear your throat before you answer. “Yeah, I have it right here. Any requests?”

Harrison tells you the song he wants you to play and starts to sing along when it starts to play over the speakers, but you can’t focus on it. Your eyes and your thoughts are on the hand that’s still holding yours between both of your seats, the way they look intertwined and the warmth that his gives yours. How are you going to keep your feelings in check for three days when one tiny kiss has you in a frenzy?

Hopefully, you’ll figure it out in the rest of the car ride.

—— part 2 coming soon——

Tagging: @sunflowerspidey @hollandharrison @peeterparkr @soft-haz @angelhaz11 💖💖

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #christmas fic #pauwrites #haz #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fluff

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yellowmagicalgirl · 3 years

Text

What a Beautiful Wedding (and Yes, but What a Shame)

Douxie asks Aja for advice. Krel asks Archie for almost the exact same advice: how to properly propose.

Written for the Camelot/Akiridion-V prompt for Krexie Week. Yes, I know it’s late. The title’s from a Panic! at the Disco song, and there’s some historical inaccuracies because I didn’t want to have to deal with historical homophobia. Also there's a single mention of violence.

AO3

FFN

Getting a private audience with the queen of Akiridion-V was difficult. It was less difficult given that Douxie was her brother's boyfriend of several years, but that didn't mean that Aja wasn't a busy woman. And it was even harder for Douxie to get a truly private audience with her, one without Krel. Sure, this was a conversation that intimately involved Krel, but he was not allowed to be here to listen to the conversation. Therefore, Douxie had had several months to prepare his question. He shouldn't have been so nervous, except some part of him worried that he might have to duel Aja for Krel's honor. Or if not Aja, then Zadra or Varvatos. And Douxie would probably only be allowed to use a serrator, because honor.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Aja asked as she closed the door.

Douxie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "What are Akiridion marriage proposals like?"

"Did he?" Aja put all of her hands to her mouth.

"If Krel proposed in a traditional Akiridion manner, I wouldn't be asking you because he would mope about me not telling him whether or not I wanted to marry him, and I'd be asking Krel. No, I wanted to know so I could propose to him."

"I see," Aja said, and her voice was more grave than Douxie expected. "Do you truly love my brother?"

"Of course I do!" The only living person that Douxie loved as much as Krel was Archie.

Aja gave him a thin smile. "I believe you, and I know that Krel cares about you deeply. But you should know, that I can think of one reason why he would reject any proposal of a formal marriage."

Douxie frowned. "What?"

"According to the laws of the Akiridion Empire," Aja began, scowling. She had done her best to reform Akiridion-V to be unlike the greater empire that had abandoned her and her family to Morando's coup. However, even with the power of the entire planet and its allies, she couldn't win an outright war with the rest of the empire. Not unless she or Krel used the full power of Gaylen against the rest of the empire. "Any royal who marries a non-royal Akiridion must get permission from the Emporer of Akiridion Prime. Otherwise, they'll lose their status as a royal."

"They'll cut his arms off?"

"No, nothing that barbaric. Or at least, it hasn't happened for hundereds if not thousands of keltons, to the best of my knowedge. And we're such a backwater part of the empire that lesser nobles could marry outside the caste with little difficulty. But Krel's the King-in-Waiting, and -"

"- I'm nobody on the galactic scale, and therefore the Emporer wouldn't approve of us." In fact, outside of Arcadia Oaks and Earth's supernatural community, and niche alt emo punk goth rock circles, Douxie was a nobody on Earth as well. "Is that why you broke up with Steve?"

"No, it was because we couldn't make long-long-long distance work. Though, I wouldn't have been able to marry him anyways." Aja sighed. "Trust me, I want the two of you to be happy together. And I know Krel doesn't care much for his status as a royal - he'd rather be remembered for his accomplishments as a physicist, engineer, hero to multiple planets... But I suspect he might refuse if only to keep me from being the only member of House Tarron. And if he does, I will try to convince him that him marrying you wouldn't be a betrayal to me."

"I understand. And, it's not like we have to get married. I want to marry Krel, but in the end it's more of a legal thing than proof of how much we love each other."

"Okay. So Akiridion proposals don't involve any physical gifts. Instead, they're a dance. I mean, you could probably modify it so you end it in the Earth way, by genuflecting and offering a ring. I'm going to walk you through the steps of a commoner's dance, and then I'll try to teach you the movements that a royal would use. Maybe you could use your magic to mimic the parts you'd need an extra pair of arms for?"

Douxie was out and about. Running errands, or something. Krel didn't mind. It gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to his boyfriend's familiar without risking Douxie walking in on the conversation. Not when the subject of the conversation was supposed to be a surprise for Douxie.

Krel had prepared this question for several months. Or rather, he had prepared himself to ask. He had looked deep within himself, and at his relationship with his sister. She was doing remarkably well as queen, far better than Krel could have ever imagined before the coup. She didn't need him as an heir, not when she had recently started mentoring their cousin's children. One from House Ventis and one from House Akraohm, in hopes that by keeping this balance their relatives wouldn't go to war like they had been for hundereds of keltons before their parents had married.

He would ask his question to Archie, and then Krel would ask Aja if she was okay with this, and then he would ask Douxie to marry him.

Krel placed the plate of roasted salmon in front of Archie. "What were Camelot's marriage customs like?"

Archie took a bite of the salmon before looking up at Krel. "Why do you want to know?" Archie took another bite, swallowed, and then sat up straight. "Oh."

"Yeah. I know what modern Earth proposals are like, and as much as I hated learning about how to properly court another royal I know how Akiridion proposals work, but I wanted to do something that would be more personal and meaningful for Douxie."

"Then you wouldn't want to do a proposal from Camelot."

"You don't know what they look like, either?"

"No, I know. When you're close to invisible to the castle, you see plenty, including all the stages of love. But back in Camelot, Douxie never could have gotten married."

"Why not?"

"It's a law older than Arthur. Wizards weren't allowed to marry. Granted, prior to Arthur taking the throne, it was only enforced when the happy couple was rich enough that a dowry would be more than a nice set of wooden dishes and a single chicken. Or if they lived in an urban area. The law was meant to try and keep the magical population low. After all, there was a stigma against children born out of wedlock, so it was supposed to keep them from having magical children. Never mind that the law targeted cis, same-sex couples the same way it targeted ones that would be able to procreate. Or how abstinence only sex-ed doesn't work. Or how wizards can be born to non-magical parents and vice-versa.

"So, no. Douxie wouldn't have ever expected to marry under Camelot's laws, and so using Camelot's customs would not be more personal and meaningful. Besides, that tradition includes nailing your intention to be married to the door of a constable. Please don't go and commit vandalism to celebrate your engagement."

"Not planning on it."

Krel Tarron couldn't wait to become Krel Casperan.

#krexieweek #krexie #hisirdoux casperan #aja tarron #krel tarron #toa archie #tales of arcadia #3below #toawizards #my writing

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

MLHolidays2k19 - 20. Traditions

Part 1 - 23. Carols

Part 3 - 21. Blankets

This one ended up skating a little close to NSFW - mature, but not explicit. Nothing actually happens onscreen. I think it should be fine, but use your judgement. Also, you know, everything I learned about French traditions came from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt. The point is, Marinette goes overboard because of course she does.

Marinette had a Plan. She was now a woman on a mission for a traditional French Christmas Eve dinner. She felt bad because she knew she was blowing up Luka’s phone with all her texts, but he seemed more amused than annoyed as far as she could tell. So far, she had asked him about food sensitivities and preferences, and what he wanted to drink with dinner besides wine, if there was any type of food his family traditionally had for Christmas, and his favorite color. She was standing in the grocery store pouting at the lack of oysters when he actually texted her.

Should I dress up?

No, no she sent, and then changed her mind. Well Maybe a little bit? Not like, coat and tie, but maybe a button-down? I’m going to wear a dress so But it’s just us, so whatever you’re comfortable with

Luka sent back, If you’re making dinner, I can handle wearing a nice shirt.

Marinette passed the dairy aisle and her eyes lit up with an idea. She texted him, If you want, you can stay over. We can do Christmas breakfast in the morning!

It took her about thirty seconds to realize how that sounded and quickly she added, On the couch! I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Just on the couch. Sorry! Marinette groaned and dropped her head on her arms on the handle of her grocery cart. Ugh, she was so lame.

Her phone buzzed and she was almost afraid to look at it, but finally she peeked at it through her fingers. I got it, I got it. You’re a funny girl, Marinette. I’d love breakfast if that’s really okay. I’ll pack a bag. For the couch. Promise.

She blew out a relieved breath, and added ingredients for breakfast to her cart. She winced a little at the checkout, but she was normally pretty frugal, and it was worth it for just tonight. Because she had a Plan.

A plan that turned out to be a bit more challenging than she expected, getting everything ready in her apartment’s tiny kitchen, but challenging was nothing to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and when Luka arrived that evening, Marinette opened the door in breathless excitement, a Christmas plaid apron still over her sparkly red sweater dress. “Hi!” She beamed, and without thinking, she rose up on her toes to offer him la bise like he was an old friend. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, bending to meet her and returning the gesture easily. He straightened and gave her his slow smile as he offered her the wine he had brought.

“It smells amazing in here, Marinette,” Luka commented, and Marinette beamed at him.

“I couldn’t get everything I wanted,” she said, bustling into the kitchen to start carrying plates out. “I couldn’t find any oysters, and I had to get turkey instead of goose, but I have salmon and foie gras, and the bread isn’t as good as Papa’s but I think it’s all right.”

Her small table was covered with a deep red cloth, knotted at the ends, and three candles in mismatched but harmonizing candlesticks stood waiting to be lit.

Luka was looking at her with unrestrained wonder as she got the matches and lit the candles. “You planned and pulled all of this off in one day? You—“ He shook his head. “You’re amazing, Marinette. I can’t believe you got up a full Réveillon just for the two of us.”

Marinette felt a little foolish, all of a sudden. “It is a bit much, isn’t it,” she admitted, twisting the hem of her apron. “I probably went overboard. I just wanted everything to be perfect.” She glanced up at the garlands she had hung around the room, and the lights that framed her windows.

Luka chuckled and gave her a soft look that made her blush. “Marinette, I could tell from the moment I met you that you’re the kind of person who puts her whole heart into everything she does. I’m just impressed you managed to do so much in so little time.”

Marinette was still embarrassed but pleased by his praise. She saw him notice her tiny tree on a side table, and smile at the small package wrapped in blue under it, with his name on it in big, enthusiastic letters. Without commenting, he took a small package from his pocket and placed it under the tree as well.

She got him the corkscrew and let him serve the (very nice) wine, and soon they were sitting down to enjoy their dinner. Marinette told him about the meals she had at home with her family as they sipped the wine and made their leisurely way through the food. Luka was as good a listener as she remembered, and he seemed interested in everything she said as she talked about the food and how it compared to her family’s normal dinner.

“We’re not nearly so fancy as this,” Luka commented, gesturing to the table with his fork. “My mother’s not big on formality, and we’re a little limited with the just the galley for cooking. It sounds nice when you talk about it though,” he smiled. “I always figured it would be kind of stuffy, but it sounds cozy. Like this,” he gestured to the meal between them. “This is nice.”

“It can get stuffy and boring when you have a lot of people,” Marinette admitted. “We’ve had some awful ones when there were a lot of relatives in town, but usually it’s just Mama and Papa and me, and then it’s like this. No rush, but no waiting for everyone else to finish either, and it’s all just—“ she shrugged. “Comfortable.”

“I like comfortable,” Luka agreed. “This has really been great, Marinette, truly.”

“It’s not over yet!” Marinette proclaimed, hopping up from the table and running into the kitchen. She could barely contain her excitement as she set the bûche de Noël on the table. “It might not be as good as Papa’s,” she said cheerfully, “but it was as close as I could get.”

“It looks fantastic,” Luka said, impressed.

“Papa’s might taste a little better but even he can’t beat me for decorating.” She handed Luka the cake knife.

A short time later they both set down their forks and looked at each other in defeat.

“It’s amazing, Marinette, but I really can’t eat any more,” Luka sighed.

“Honestly, me neither,” Marinette giggled.

“Let me help you clean up.”

It did take quite a while to get all the leftovers packed away in the fridge. Marinette made sure to put some in a container for Luka to take home later. Fortunately Marinette’s apartment had a dishwasher, so they only had a few things left to wash by hand.

“I didn’t actually pick the apartment or most of the stuff in it,” she confessed to Luka as they stood washing up at the sink. She kept trying not to be too obvious about looking at his forearms while his sleeves were rolled up. “It was all selected and paid for by the company for as long as I’m on this assignment.”

“I’m sharing a place with two other guys from the band,” Luka said ruefully. “I’m used to living in small shared spaces, but it’s different when it’s not family. Sometimes I just need some space and quiet, and it’s a little hard to find when you’re sharing space with rock stars in New York City.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come hang out here when you need to,” Marinette said absently as she scrubbed the last dish that wouldn’t fit in the washer. “It’s almost too quiet most of the time.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Luka asked admiringly. “You just have to offer help if you can.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said quickly, embarrassed again. “I’m a fixer. I don’t always think things through before I offer. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I know we just met—“

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Luka interrupted. “And really, I appreciate the offer. I might take you up on it. And...I hope this comes out right.” He sighed, and Marinette was surprised to see a bit of color appear on his cheeks. “I don’t feel like we just met. You know, sometimes you meet people and you connect right away. Sometimes you meet people and no matter how long you know them, you just don’t quite vibe.” He smiled at her, a little tentatively. “It feels easy, being with you.” He gently took the dish Marinette was holding and began to dry it off while she blinked at him stupidly. “I hope that didn’t sound weird,” he muttered, shuffling his feet.

“No, it—I get what you mean. Really.” She smiled.

“Well, now that that’s done—“ Luka set the dish on the drying rack and turned to her, with a broad grin that somehow still looked a little shy. “You want a little taste of a Couffaine Christmas?”

Marinette giggled. “What do you have in mind?”

“Are you a good dancer?”

“Ah...no, not really.”

“Perfect,” he said with a wink. “Where’s your music?”

It was a little embarrassing at first, dancing silly with Luka, but he joked and teased and had no problem looking ridiculous himself, and soon she was giggling too hard to be self-conscious.

“You have pretty good taste in music,” he told her as they bopped around the room.

“Actually credit goes to my friend Nino,” she admitted, swishing her hair and swinging her hips without a care in the world. “He put this playlist together and sent it to me to, and I quote, ‘keep you from getting too depressed at Christmas.’” She giggled. “I’m not sure that this is what he intended, but it works!”

When she began to protest that she was getting tired, Luka swept her up in a waltz hold and swirled her around the small space. His hold was gentle but strong and firm, and she relaxed into it and let him whirl her around until they were dizzy.

“Christmas at your house seems like a lot of fun,” Marinette laughed as she leaned into him and waited for the room to stop spinning.

“It’s not quite the same without the boat rocking and Juleka trying to trip me every few minutes,” Luka grinned, leaning on her as well as he swayed slightly on his feet. “For a Couffaine Christmas Dance Party that was pretty tame. But I think I can live without hitting the deck four or five times and getting beer spilled all over me.”

“Do you live on a boat or in a club?” Marinette teased.

“It’s hard to tell the difference sometimes,” Luka admitted, pulling Marinette into a slow dance with him as a soft piano intro played and a female voice crooned “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” Marinette leaned her head on his shoulder, glad to have a breather as they swayed lightly.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said near her ear. “This is so much better than what I had planned. This is—this is perfect, really. Thank you for sharing Christmas with me.”

Marinette smiled and cuddled a little closer. Luka was warm and comfortable, and maybe she should have been more self-conscious about being held by someone who was practically a stranger, but...he was right, what he’d said in the kitchen. He didn’t feel like a stranger.

“So…” Luka began, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “I do have one question.”

“Hmm?” Marinette lifted her head to look at him, and he nodded upwards.

“Is that French good luck mistletoe or American kissing mistletoe?” He grinned. Marinette gasped for a moment and then laughed.

“I completely forgot the tradition was different here. I guess we might as well be thorough.” She rose up on her toes to peck his lips, but he lowered to meet her and somehow made it something softer and a little longer than she intended, though still little more than a quick press of lips. Still, it sent a jolt of warmth through her body that she hadn’t been expecting.

Then again, she reflected as he pulled back, she hadn’t been kissed in a long time, so maybe she should have expected it.

Luka grinned, oblivious to her suddenly wobbly knees. “Well, so much for the kissing, and I certainly feel lucky,” he chuckled. “I think we’ve got our bases covered.” He took a step back, hands sliding down her arms to take her hands. “Usually about this time we’ve all had enough party, so we’d get out our instruments and take turns playing. Can I play for you, Marinette?”

Marinette was delighted with the idea. “Yes, please! Hot chocolate?”

He shook his head. “I’m good, but feel free. I’ll get the guitar in tune and meet you on the couch.”

Marinette was actually glad for a little distance from those warm eyes and that gentle, knowing smile and those rough, strong hands, as she went to the kitchen and served herself a mug of hot chocolate. She turned down the lights, blew out the candles on the table, and flicked on the apartment’s little gas fireplace, which came to life with a faint whoosh.

“Now that’s atmosphere,” Luka chuckled, plucking a string and adjusting the tuning peg. “I brought the acoustic because it’s more apartment friendly than my electric, and now I’m glad. It definitely goes better with the vibe tonight.”

“I always love listening to you play at the bistro,” Marinette smiled as she sat down on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. “You play with so much passion.”

“I always love it when you come to listen,” he said, darting a look at her from under his lashes without actually looking away from the guitar. “When I play with Jagged, the audiences are huge and nobody’s there just to listen to me. I miss that connection, so I play at a couple small places like that around town. I really like it when you come because you seem so invested In the music. It’s nice to see someone enjoy it so much.”

“You...noticed me?”

He smiled, still not looking up from the guitar. “You’re hard to miss, Marinette. Now I’m only sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, but you always seemed so engrossed in what you were doing that I didn’t want to interrupt.” He glanced at her again, and it was hard to tell in the firelight but she thought there was a little pink in his cheeks. “But with eyes like those?” He reached out and curled a finger under her chin, lifting her face to the light. “Yeah. I noticed you. Every time.” He dropped his hand quickly and strummed slowly and deliberately down the strings. “There, that sounds about right. Anything you want to hear?”

Marinette shook her head. “Anything. You pick.”

So Luka played, and Marinette listened, sinking more fully into the couch as the music relaxed her.

“That was lovely,” she said when he paused.

“That was you,” he smiled, and shrugged slightly when she turned wide eyes on him. “It’s a thing I do sometimes, just for fun. Like your sketches, only with music.”

“That’s so cool, Luka,” she said in surprise. “Can you play your mom?”

He wasn’t expecting that, plainly, but then he smiled brightly. “The electric suits her better, but I’ll give it a shot,” he said, turning back to the strings. The tune he played was lively, almost jumpy, though a little bit...hard? It had a Celtic feel to it and the rhythm rolled like the ocean.

“This one’s my sister,” he murmured, changing to a slow and almost somber tune, quiet, but rich, with a thread of mischief. When it ended Luka lifted his head and smiled at her. “Thanks for asking. Playing them actually makes them feel a little closer.”

“I wonder what my parents would sound like,” Marinette mused aloud, turning the cup in her hands.

“Tell me about them,” Luka said, picking a few seemingly random chords. “Let’s see what we can do together.”

In the end Marinette brought her sketchbook over, and sat pressed to his side, turning through the sketches she had done before she left home.

“Hang on,” Luka stopped her. “Is that me?”

“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head shyly. “Yeah, I’ve sketched you a couple of times now.”

“May I see?” he asked, and though it made her face burn, she opened the book fully. Luka put his arm across the couch behind her so he could lean closer.

It wasn’t a cleaned up sketch and there was no color, and parts of it were indistinct. His eyes and his hands were clear, and his smile, and the rest of it was more of an impression than a picture. Marinette held her breath while Luka studied it, but he only looked up and said, “Thank you,” and let her turn back to the beginning of the book, to the pictures she’d been looking for.

These were complete and meticulous, carefully done to help her cherish the memory of home while she was away. Her father laughing in the bakery, her mother at the register, the two of them reclining together on the couch. Their faces, lovingly rendered, her father’s squinty, happy eyes above his thick mustache, and the warmth of her mother’s smile.

Luka smiled softly. “You can really see the love in these,” he observed. “Not just their love, that’s obvious, but the way you love them. All the little details you worked to get just right.” It felt natural to lean against him, to seek his support as her heart began to ache for home again. Luka reached over and gently closed the book. “I think I can try now,” he murmured into her hair. “If you still want me to.”

“Yes, please.”

Luka waited for her to move off him, and then drew back to pick up his guitar again. He seemed to sit thinking for a moment, trying out different chords. Then he flashed a quick smile at her, and began to play.

Marinette clasped her hands over her heart and squeezed her eyes closed against the tears that threatened as Luka played, first a warm, passionate, boisterous tune, and then adding in a calmer, more relaxed and level harmony.

“What do you think?” he asked when the notes faded away. “Did we get close?”

“That was beautiful,” Marinette quavered. “It was just like them.”

“Hey now,” Luka said, setting down the guitar and scooting closer. “It wasn’t supposed to make you sad.” He touched her face tenderly and then slipped his hand to her shoulder, applying a gentle pressure. She obeyed it, leaning on him and letting him fold her up in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “This is why I’m here. So neither of us has to have these feelings alone.”

“We were having such a nice time,” Marinette sniffled.

“It’s still nice,” Luka said, reaching to grab her a tissue from the end table. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for inviting me into your home and going to all this trouble. It’ll take more than a few fully justified tears to ruin any of it.”

“Can we just stay like this for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Eventually she calmed, her breathing evening out, and she moved her face out of his shirt to lay it on his shoulder. It felt so good to be held. And Luka could have been so many things, this man she’d known only for a couple of days, but he was kind and sweet and gentle and genuine and just...wonderful. She found herself staring at the opening of his collar, and just above, the hollow of his throat.

Without questioning the impulse too much, she turned her head just enough to kiss the spot. She liked the way it felt, both his warm skin against her lips and the sudden catch in his breath. She sat up a little more, nose and lips gliding up his skin until she found another soft place to kiss below his jaw. He swallowed and tilted his head slightly, which she took as permission to continue, laying soft kisses along the column of his neck.

Luka pulled away, just far enough to see her face. He cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb lightly against her cheek, the firelight making his eyes look dark.

Or maybe it wasn’t the firelight, because when her lips parted to speak, he kissed her, and it was soft but firm and wanting. That warm, fizzy feeling from before came rushing back, even stronger as Luka began to brush tender fingers across her face and neck.

They exchanged slow, deep kisses, gravitating toward each other, arms slowly circling and tightening, bodies drawing closer until they were pressed as close as they could get. Luka’s hand slipped down under her thigh, tugging lightly. Marinette moved, shifting into him, allowing him to guide her knee across his lap. Her fingers slid into his hair and his hands massaged her thighs before slipping up her sides and down again.

Her teeth scraped his lower lip and he gasped, his hips jerking up into her and she broke away with a breathless cry and for a moment they both hung, panting, undecided.

“Marinette?” Luka prompted, voice raw. She didn’t answer, hyper aware of everywhere they were touching, the very movement of his breath enough to fuel the fire in her belly.

“We can stop now and I can still sleep on the couch if that’s what you want,” he said softly.

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, gathering her courage, and then lifted it to look him in the eye. “What if that’s not what I want?”

He held her gaze for a moment, as if waiting for something, maybe giving her a chance to back out. Marinette let out a shaky breath, but didn’t look away. “I don’t want to stop. And I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.”

“Okay,” he breathed into the barely-there space between them as he brushed his lips against hers again.

Despite her bold words, part of her was panicking as they sank down in her bed together, because what was she thinking? At the same time it felt like the most right, most natural end to what otherwise would have been a lonely night full of tears. Though eager and near shaking with want, he was as gentle and considerate as he had been all night. It made her feel powerful and wanted and treasured and safe all at once, and when it was over, all the wanting and tension spent, the gentleness, the care for her remained, and he asked her in that same soft way if she wanted him to leave.

“No,” she whispered, drawing him back down to her, “Stay with me. Didn’t we agree not to be alone on Christmas?” Luka relaxed back down into the bed with a sigh that sounded like relief, slipping one strong arm around her waist. She traced it lightly with her fingers as he kissed her shoulder and murmured “Joyeaux Noël, Marinette.”

She glanced up at the clock smiled, seeing it was well after midnight, and officially Christmas Day. “Joyeaux Noël, Luka.”

#it became a monster #when you work on it until you're not even sure it's good anymore #quickspins #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #mlholidays2k19 #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng

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aurora-teez · 3 years

Text

|Chapter 6| Utopia~ An Ateez Fanfic Story~

Sorry that I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been so busy but I have finally gotten around to writing the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

General Narrator’s POV

Emerald opens her eyes in shock of the sight she saw- the sea divided. How is that possible? Why would Poseidon show her that? Her sight is slowly getting clear as she sees Jongho over her crying.

“Oh my God Em! I thought you were dead”, He says in shock and crying holding her hands tight as if it was the last time he would hold it.

“Jong, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”, She says pulling him for a quick kiss.

Emerald’s POV

Now i realized what Poseidon meant- we can’t live without each other. He would be torn if I died and vis versa for me. It would feel as if your heart is literally being split in half.

“Are you sure you are ok? You were blacked out for some time”, Violet says looking at me with tears in her eyes.

Jongho helps me sit up but then he ends up picking me up bridal style in his strong arms. I snuggle in his chest and smile. I feel like a princess. My father would always call me his little princess.

“I am fine, just a bit tired. I think I need to sleep for a bit. I can talk about it later not now. Do you mind making dinner please? “, I ask Violet.

“We can cook for you”, Yeosang and Seonghwa say smiling at us, looking like a pair of happy cats.

“You can cook?”, Me and Violet say at the same time, looking at them raising our eyebrows.

“Yes, we cooked for all these boys our whole lives lol. Trust us we won’t burn down the ship, Captain”, Yeosang smiles and salutes me.

“Alright then but Violet keep an eye on them and show them where everything is, I smile and Jongho carries me to my side of the ship to my quarters.

Jongho’s POV

Emerald looks so peaceful in my arms like an angel. My heart feels so warm knowing that she is all mine and that she is alive. She has been going through so much in finding this Chest and many times she has passed out. Each time I felt as if she was gone but she reassured me that no matter what she will be here. She really is my soulmate.

“Jongho, you didn’t have to carry me”, She said with her sweet voice as smooth as honey.

“Don’t worry you look so adorable and you needed to sleep”, I say resting her gently on the bed and watch as she curls her legs to the side and looks at me.

She closes her eyes and I think she is sleep so I walk towards the door to leave but-

“Stay, Jongho”

“What?”

“Please come hold me. Your arms feel really warm and soft”,She says holding her arms out to me.

I take off my jacket and i pull the covers over her and I and hold her tightly in my arms and we both fall asleep.

Emerald’s POV

My eyes open to see Jongho hold me sleeping. He looks so peaceful and of course handsome as always. I kiss him on the cheek and he opens his eyes.

“Hello there Handsome”,I smile at him as he rubs his eyes.

“Hi My Jewel”, He says as I roll off the covers and sit up, he gets up as well.

“Ok I think they should be finished cooking by now. Let’s hope my ship does not burn down in the next 5 minutes”, I laugh and we walk to the kitchen holding hands.

Violet’s POV

Hmm...interesting. They actually do know how to cook. I find it really attractive seeing Seonghwa cook. Most men do not cook because they find it to be unmasculine but Seonghwa seems to really enjoy it. I have been enjoying myself staring at him. Something about his movements while cooking is perfect.

“Vi,can you taste this for me please?”, Seonghwa asks and I walk over to him. He puts some sauce on the spoon and brings it to my lips to taste.

I taste it teasing him with my red lipstick tinted lips on the spoon.

“Mmm that is very good. What is it?”

“It’s a tomato sauce to put on top of the Salmon that Yeosang just griled. To give it some flavor”, He says and smiles at me.

I lick my lips and smile back at him, giving him a small wink. He comes closer to my ear whispers “You are a tease”

"Well maybe I loved when you called me Vi", I say kissing his cheek then walk to sit down.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and laughing.

"Emerald, Are you feeling better?", I go and see her holding hands with Jongho. They are so adorable together. I can see why they are soulmates.

"Yes. Aww you were worried about me. Listen I know that know we have experienced strange things and I have had a few scares with the visions but i promise you that I won't go anywhere",I smile hugging her

"You mean that? Your the only family I have left? ",She says in a lowtone.

"Always. Plus we are basically like 2 peas in a pod. No separating us ", I say and we both laugh together

Seonghwa's POV

Me and Yeosang finally finish cooking all the food. I help set up the table placing all the dishes neatly in the middle with the plates and utentils around. I call everyone down and all sit down.

“Well what do you think?”, Yeosang asks Emerald smiling.

“I love it! How did you know that I loved seafood?”, I ask them lowering my eyebrows

“Violet told us. We wanted to make you feel comfortable and happy like you have with us even though we kidnapped you. Again, we are all sorry for that. Right guys?”, Seonghwa says as the oldest staring at all of them with a glare.

A bunch of eagar nods and “Yes” comes from the boys around the table.

“Thank you. Now sit and eat. I think I should tell you all what happened when I blacked out”, I say and start eating.

After about 10 minutes, I see Jongho hold the top of my hand reassuring that I will be ok.

“Ok so what I saw was very strange and I am not sure if what I saw was true. But I was on the island, Utopia. I recognized it only after Poseidon told me. Then I saw a green light along the water but the ocean was split in the middle revealing the ocean floor and coral. I saw a trident but not the one Poseidon has. A new one- With a green jewel in the middle. It was glowing a path”, I say recalling what i saw, breathing in and out still in fear but curiousity.

“Wait what do you think it was leading to?”, Mingi asks.

“The Chest. That has to be it because Poseidon mentioned that all must divide. I think he meant the ocean but I do not understand”, I say putting my head down.

“Aww it’s ok. We are glad you are ok and that is a big clue”, Wooyoung says giving me a wide tooth smile.

“Thank you. So for now, we will continue on the course North as Poseidon said until I find another clue”, I say with a confident tone to them.

“Yes Captain”, Violet says.

Emerald’s POV

A few hours pass and a strange rocking motion happens on the boat and we see a big wave coming towards the ship. We prepare for impact but suddenly the water shapes into a person and I see Poseidon standing there holding his Trident.

“Seriously? Was that neccessary?”, I say walking over to him with Jongho hold me to his side.

“Apologies, that was the quickest way for me to get here but no damage has happened to your ship. Anyways, I see that you both have become closer. Very good. Also, I see you realized something about your vision”, He says in a low tone.

“Yes, Why is that trident different from yours?”, I ask.

“Because it does not belong to me, nor do I have the power to use it. Someone else does. I made it, yes, but not for me”, He says sitting down.

“Then, who is it for?”

“You, Emerald”

“Wait...what? Me? Are you saying that I can use this trident? How?”, I ask with wide eyes.

“Because I told you, you are special. The sea chose you to save it from something that might of been the cause of your father’s disappearance and dozens of more innocent sailors searching for the chest ”

“What?”

He walks to me and gives me a map that I have never seen before. There is one map in pirate legend that no one has seen.

“The Sea of Theives”

“Yes, do you know of it?”, He asks.

“A bit. I have never seen it but I heard that it is filled with monsters beyond thinking and that is it out of your dominion for some reason due to the strong power there”, I say.

“Yes but that dominion serves a purpose to stop unworthy people from reaching the island. The chest’s owner made an agreement that only the one with a pure heart can overpower the sea to reach the island and my dear, that is you”, He says and smiles at me.

“Why can’t you overpower it? You are a god?! I am not!”, I yell at him.

“No you are not but it is your destiny and you may not know it yet but to overpower that dominion means that you are more powerful than you know. The visions were a test to see if I was right. I was. You must get the trident to overpower the sea and then you shall see the island. The dominion has grown out of my reach but I think that he can help you”, He says pointing to Jongho.

“What? Me?”, He says.

“Would you mind telling her of the birthmark you have on your back?”, Poseidon says.

“But how does that matter? I thought they were just scratches”, Jongho says unbuttoning his shirt and turns around.

“Oh my god. These are coordinates”,I say as we all gasp.

“Like I said, you both need each other. He did not realize until he met you that they meant something”, Poseidon says.

“Where do they lead?”, Violet asks me.

I look down at the map and I see a faint sight of an island and a large body of water with markings.

“The Sea of Theives”, I look at all of them and say softly looking into Jongho’s eyes.

“Why do I have these markings?”, Jongho asks.

“Because you are her other half, Jongho. Destiny choose you and led you to her. Like I said, she need you”, Poseidon says.

Author’s Note: I know I am always putting cliffhangers and twists for my chapter lol. I like to tease you all with suspense and anticipation lol. So can Emerald have the power to control the sea as Poseidon? We’ll see 😉

#ateez #ateez fanfic #hongjoong #Yeosang #Mingi #San #Wooyoung #Jongho #seonghwa #yunho #pirate king #utopia #adventure #romance #comedy #drama #destiny #Ateezstory #Fanficseries #kpop fanfic

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myforeverforlife · 4 years

Text

familiar stranger (final).

“It doesn’t feel like home when you’re not with me."

Jongdae’s eyelids fluttered shut, the weight of your words touching the depths of his heart. "You’ll always have me, no matter what. Home hasn’t been the same without you.” His eyes opened, brown pools of color full of adoration as he stared back at you.

Everything was falling back into place.

Disclaimer: This series was planned out before Jongdae’s announcement, and I wanted to finish this for everyone who’s been reading and following along since part one. As always, everything in this is fictional, the only things linked to reality are the use of some character names.

Word Count: 5,734

Masterlist

Series masterlist: ( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( Final )

Moving day was more organized than you expected. You only had to bring over the pile of stuff you accumulated while staying with Minseok, and the rest already had a place at home with Jongdae. Most of your items were easily settled and in their places within a couple of hours, much to your satisfaction. The only thing left to do was to get the remainder of your clothes put away.

As you folded and hung up your clothes, it hit you that while most of your other tastes had stayed the same, your choice in clothing hadn't. In the course of six years, your wardrobe had changed almost completely.

"I feel like I'm shopping through my own closet," you said over your shoulder. Rummaging through coats and sweaters, you were impressed by certain fashions choices, and oddly confused at others. "Did I really wear this orange sweater?" You took it out by the hanger, lifting it up just as Jongdae peeked out from the bathroom.

"You did, and I always said that you looked like a pumpkin. A very cute pumpkin, I might add." Jongdae laughed, even with his mouth full of toothpaste.

You hung the fuzzy blob of a sweater back up, failing to hide the smile working its way onto your face at Jongdae's words. "I guess I know why I kept it," you said to yourself as Jongdae finished brushing his teeth. He joined you at the closet soon after, similarly dressed in his well-loved pajamas.

"I forgot you even had this," he chuckled. Jongdae reached out, fingers running down the woolen fabric of the sweater. "I never knew why you didn't donate or throw it away. You always said it was too scratchy to wear."

Eyebrows raised in disbelief, you crossed your arms over your chest. "Really? You honestly don't have any idea why?"

Jongdae was still confused, staring harder at the sweater as if he would find the answer there. "No... why?"

"I probably kept it because you liked it so much! Who doesn't want to be called a 'cute pumpkin' by their husband?"

"Huh." Jongdae's head cocked to the head slightly, studying the article of clothing one last time before turning to you. "You didn't have to do that. I know you don't usually like this style."

"I mean, technically I didn't do anything. 'Past me' did."

Jongdae smiled, closing the distance and putting his arms around your waist. "Well, 'past you' is still you." He kissed the crown of your head, his lips lingering a but longer before he rested his cheek against your hair. "Ready for bed?"

It amused Jongdae to watch you hop in on the left side of the bed, a spot you always claimed. You pulled a pillow close to you as you brought the fluffy blanket over your shoulders, sniffing curiously as you caught a whiff of a familiar scent.

"Lavender," you mused, diving down for another sniff.

"To help you sleep," Jongdae explained as he turned off the light on the nightstand. "You used to talk about how it takes forever for you to fall asleep." He stifled a laugh as he lay down, resting his head on the pillow underneath. "And if we're being honest, you were sort of jealous of my ability to fall asleep in five seconds flat."

You mirrored Jongdae, lying down and facing him as you clutched the pillow tightly to you with both arms. "I'm still jealous, now that you've brought that up," you pouted.

Jongdae cooed with sympathy, scooting closer and bringing one arm up to encircle as much of you as he could. "Hopefully the lavender helps tonight."

"I'm sure it will." You smiled up at him before hugging him back, the pillow between both of you making it hard to get your arm over his waist. To Jongdae's amusement, you shoved the pillow out of the way before snuggling closer, nose pressed into his shirt.

And sure enough, you slept better than you did in a long time.

"Y/N, can you bring me the scallops?"

"Yes, chef!" You picked up the hot pan with a towel, warning your fellow chefs as you stepped past before placing on the counter next to Key. He finished plating his risotto before reaching for the scallops, sending you a quick thanks before focusing entirely on the food before him.

"Mingyu, I need garnish soon! Kyungsoo, get ready to have your salmon up to the counter!"

Both men were quick to respond to the head chef, Mingyu readying dainty flowers to be sprinkled atop the scallop risotto while Kyungsoo wiped the edges of his salmon dishes.

You went to check on the meal ticket one last time, making sure that nothing was missing. Under Key's supervision, his dishes were immaculate and aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

Once Jaehyun came to take the dishes out, the whole process started all over again. Key led your team through a couple orders of spicy pork over cauliflower rice and, much to Kyungsoo's delight, wasabi tacos. Time seemed to fly past as you all finished up the last of the main dishes and started on desserts.

Service ended with a last order of lychee cheesecake and mini red bean pancakes topped with French vanilla ice cream, your mouth watering at the sight of them.

"Good work tonight, everybody. That was the best service we've had in a long time. Maybe even since Y/N was last here," he added, giving you a thumbs-up. "Alright, let's clean up and get the hell out of here. I'm dying for a drink."

You rolled back your shoulders, stretching out the sore muscles and moving onto your neck when Kyungsoo called out to you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, my body's just stiff. Too much sitting around at home for me really left me out of shape," you joked.

Kyungsoo's eyes softened in sympathy. "It's tough jumping back into this after so long. You'll get used to it again though."

"Sounds like you speak from experience?"

"Yeah, before I got hired here, I did my military service. I had to leave my job at Junmyeon's old restaurant, Oasis, but he offered me one here once I got out. I thought I'd ease back in like I never left, but it was weird to get back into the habit of cooking in an environment like this. Not just physically, but mentally as well." He leaned back against the counter, throwing the towel in his hand onto his shoulder and crossing his arms. "Luckily, Key is a decent head chef, when he's not sending drunk texts to the groupchat."

"I can hear you Do Kyungsoo, and those counters won't wipe themselves!" Key yelled from the walk-in fridge.

You stifled your giggles as Kyungsoo flinched, immediately reaching up for his towel and searching for the nearest surface to start cleaning.

Sure, your body wasn't used to the stress of pulling through a service like this, but you felt better than you had in a long time. It also helped that you had been welcomed back so cheerfully. Of course, everyone in the kitchen was overjoyed to have you there. Your tasks had been divvied up and shared among the remaining four chefs, the managers even stepping in to help wherever they could.

But you could feel the camaraderie between everyone, and the way that this same friendship was extended towards you. The younger ones liked to rope you into their antics, Lucas and Mark often looking to you for your opinion whenever they got into an enthusiastic discussion about, well, anything. The latest debate had been over which Smash Bros character was the best.

Your happiness at work filtered into your cheeriness at home, and vice versa. Your parents were even able to pick up on your cheery mood as you talked to them over the phone. Although they were cities away and unable to come up to Seoul as often as they liked, you made the effort to call them at least once a week.

Jongdae liked to say hi to your parents whenever he heard that you were on the phone with them. Nothing more than the usual effervescent, genuine greeting, and then he left you with a kiss and your privacy to continue your phone call. As familiar as he was with your parents, you were almost terrified about meeting his. It was slightly comforting to know that they loved you already, but meeting your partner's parents was always a nerve-wracking event. Jongdae never pushed you to meet them, much less talk to then until you were ready.

But deep down, you knew that this was something you would have to do eventually.

You met them for the first time (again) at his parents on a sunny weekend in March, during a family get-together at their house. Jongdae's older brother was there too with his wife, their little daughter back home spending some time with her maternal grandmother.

It was easy to see where Jongdae's assorted charms came from as you observed his parents. His father was reliable and always ready to lend a hand, even when you didn't say anything. His mother was bubbly and optimistic, constantly refreshing others with a kind word and a warm smile.

And Jongdae, sweet as ever, was by your side throughout it all. A hand on your waist as you talked to his mom, a hearty laugh when you innocently pointed out that his brother had a piece of spinach stuck in his teeth.

His childhood home was gone, but his parents still kept a room reserved for him and his brother in their new apartment. Boxes of artifacts from his youth were stacked against the wall, full of yearbooks, letters and stuffed plushies spilling out when you opened them up.

"You have a teddy bear collection?" you asked, picking up one with a plush skateboard attached to its feet. "This might be the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"Stop," Jongdae whined, falling to the floor and covering his face with his hands as you laughed. "I feel bad about throwing them out."

"I'm serious, Dae. This is adorable." You sat the bear up against the pillows on his bed, lining up bear after bear until you had an entire row there. Some were in better condition than others, but all had been well-loved.

Jongdae showed you old photos of the band he was in during high-school, an adolescent version of him sporting different hairstyles that his friend did for him. "I let him practice on me, but I drew the line at mohawks. My mom would've killed me, and Jongdeok would've teased me about it forever. Not that he doesn't tease me enough already," he added with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

"How about now?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. "I think you'd look good in one."

Jongdae choked on his laughter, tears welling in the corners of his eyes as you frantically got him up to a sitting position. "I'm fine," he assured you, coughing in between chuckles. "You just surprised me."

"You mean you don't want a hairstyle that makes you look like a rooster?" you quipped, joining in as Jongdae erupted into giggles once more.

"Okay, that's it, I'm never going with you to the hair salon." His chest continued to rumble with laughter as he leaned against you, his cheek pressed against your head. "I'm glad you're having a good time here."

"Your family's so sweet, how can I not?"

Jongdae smiled to himself, head ducking down to kiss you. "I'm happy that you're happy, darling."

Jongdae's family members were so similar to himself, how could you not love them? They welcomed you into the family a second time, your personality suiting their easygoing ways.

And something you really appreciated — not once did any of them comment on your ring-less finger.

It had been a journey wracked with guilt and confusion, but you had reached the point where looking at your wedding ring didn't send you into a whirlpool of nervousness.

A few weeks and sessions unpacking your guilt with Dr. Suh later, you even took to wearing your wedding ring again — although not where you were traditionally expected to. The elegant piece of jewelry hung from a thin silver chain around your neck, an old Christmas present from your father.

Your ring was the bridge between your present and past — but more importantly, your future. Wearing your ring grounded you, reminded you about how lucky you were to be here now, even if you couldn't remember the past six years. It was comforting to feel the slight pull on your necklace when you leaned forward, the ring swinging forward and catching the light.

What warmed your heart even more was Jongdae's reaction to seeing it again.

You had been antsy all day, the ring hidden under your shirt. For all Jongdae knew, you were just wearing a necklace you had rediscovered. But when you leaned down to pick up a pair of shoes, the ring slipped out from its hiding place. Jongdae, who tended to be completely oblivious to his surroundings, took a bit to realize what he was seeing. Once he did, however, his mouth fell open, eyes trained solely on the ring at your neck. No matter how many times you replayed it in your mind, you couldn't figure out who had moved first. All you knew was that both of you were in each other's arms, Jongdae's lips on yours as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he managed to finally pull away, he looked you in the eye, asking why you chose to wear it.

"It just feels right," you murmured, fingers tracing over his collarbones. You couldn't meet his gaze, feeling the the intensity of his eyes on yours. You needed to be clear-headed if you wanted to get your thoughts out correctly. "I used to be scared of it. I knew that I loved you, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for a big commitment like this. It's my first time being married," you finished with a soft laugh.

Jongdae lifted your chin up gently, waiting until you were looking at him. "You didn't do this just for me, right?" He swallowed back the nervousness creeping up his throat.

You shook your head. "Not just for you or me, but for us, darling."

Jongdae froze for a second before his hands came up to your cheeks, caressing them softly. “Say it again, please.” His voice was shaky, despite the steadiness of his hands. "I've missed hearing that."

"Darling Jongdae," you whispered back, your own hands trembling as they reached up to cover Jongdae's where they rested on your face. "I love you. I don't think I ever really stopped."

Jongdae let out an unexpected sob, closing his eyes and ducking his head. His hands dropped from your face, taking yours down with him.

"Dae, don't cry," you pleaded, reaching out to be the one to cradle his face now. "Dae," you said tenderly, brushing his bangs back as he tried to hide his tears.

He turned his head, wiping his face on his sleeve before turning back to you. His eyes were red-rimmed, tears clumping his eyelashes together. "I'm happy," he choked out, taking in a shuddering, raspy breath. "You make me happy, Y/N, no matter what you do. But this... nothing even compares to this.”

"But I'm not even wearing the ring the right way," you murmured, surprised by his strong reaction.

Jongdae shook his head, brows drawn low over his face, a serious glint to his eye. "It doesn't matter where you wear it. You could wear it on your pinky toe, for all that I care. But I'm... I'm honored that you would choose to wear it again. To choose me again."

"It's only ever been you, Jongdae. I'd fall for you again, a million times over if it meant I got to be with you." You kissed him, feeling the subtle tickle of his eyelashes against your skin when he closed his eyes.

"I love you," he breathed, unwilling to move even an inch away when he was already drunk off of you.

"I love you too, Dae."

And in your soul, you felt that truer words had never been spoken.

Winter ended and with it came sunnier spring days, each with their fair share of rainy ones. You and Jongdae had spent these early months of the year cuddled up in late winter's warmth, discovering new things about each other as the first seeds began to sprout. It was normal now for Jongdae to pick you up from work, for both of you to come home and talk about your days over dinner and then spend the rest of the night lazing around.

Your old worries tended to creep up on you from time to time, but your circle of supporters were always ready to listen and comfort. You confided in Dr. Suh, sharing your deepest, darkest fears about not being able to live up to the person you had been before the accident. It took a lot of talking out your thoughts and thinking through the realities of them, sorting through what was fact and fiction, and the importance of living for now.

You had gotten so used to having Dr. Suh as another shoulder to lean on that it knocked your world off balance when you got down to your last sessions.

"I don't think there's anything left for me to help you with," she explained. "You've done an amazing job learning to talk through your problems, and not just to me. I've seen how much you and Jongdae have improved, and I think it's time that I take a step back."

"This is so weird, it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago that I came in here for the first time," you mused.

"Time really has flown by, hasn’t it?” Dr. Suh took off her glasses, resting them on top of her leg. "You've made so much progress, and I have faith in your abilities to continue your good work. I'll miss my sessions with you and Jongdae, but I sincerely believe that neither of you need me anymore. I'm proud of you both."

A sudden wave of emotion came over you, gratitude towards Dr. Suh for all of her help over the past months, to uncertainty about the days ahead without these confidential talks in her office. "Are you sure?" you asked meekly. "What do I do if I need help again?"

"Then I'll always be here. But I think you and Jongdae have done more for each other than I have." Her lips curled upwards, bringing an uncommon youthfulness to her usually calm demeanor.

"I'm sure together, the two of you will be just fine."

Six months later...

Your played with the ring hanging from your neck, one foot tapping anxiously against the floor. Tonight was the night. It wasn't your first holiday with Jongdae, and some people wouldn't consider a birthday a "real" holiday anyways, but in your eyes, it was absolutely imperative that everything go smoothly tonight.

"Y/N, relax, he'll be here soon," Key said, wiping off a few beads of sweat from his forehead. "If you stay in the kitchen any longer, you'll end up sweating in that outfit."

He had a point. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" you asked, leaning across the counter. Key had done his best to keep you out of the kitchen, sparing one glance at your dress and stating that he wouldn't be the one to get oil or food residue on your outfit. After you begged and pleaded, he begrudgingly agreed to let you sit and watch from across the counter.

"I'm sure," Key emphasized, waving you away with one hand. "Now hurry and get out there before your dress starts to smell like beef or something."

With a snort, you hopped off the stool, pushing open the kitchen door and leaving the chefs to their own devices.

The restaurant was nearly empty, the last few customers finishing up their meals and settling their checks. You had offered to work today, but Irene wouldn't hear of it, especially after hearing of your plans to celebrate Jongdae's birthday. She even insisted that you take your time off to go and treat yourself to some time at a salon. That didn't stop you from showing up an hour before you told Jongdae to meet you, running through your plans and finalizing them.

For your sake, the restaurant was closing early tonight so that you and Jongdae would have the whole place to yourselves. Well, yourselves, and the rest of the staff who you knew would be eavesdropping at every moment.

"Y/N!" Junmyeon called out, coming over with two copies of your menu. "We finally got the printer to work, what do you think?"

In his hands were two menus, the thick leaves of paper already laminated and placed inside the leather bindings. You read down the list, nodding contentedly at what you saw there. "Perfect! Thanks so much, Myeon. I know how much trouble the printer was giving you."

"If it's for you and Jongdae, it's not a problem. You can pay me in leftover food, though." He laughed as he walked away, the apples of his cheeks tinged pink with mirth.

One table by the window had been especially reserved for both of you, the table settings already freshly cleaned after the previous diners. You leaned over, rearranging the petite flowers in the vase that sat there, the golden sunshine of their petals instantly lifting your mood. The simple arrangement held a mix of dandelions and black-eyed Susans, with some sprigs of baby's breath to add some subtle contrast. As much as you and Jongdae both loved lavender, you noticed how he was always drawn to any sort of buttery, yellow flower. His face had brightened up when you brought some home the other day, his nose disappearing into the depth of petals as he smelled the fragrant scent. He made you laugh when he picked one out, sticking it behind his ear as you both did the rest of your Saturday chores.

"Y/N, it's almost time!" Irene came up from behind, smoothing down your hair and giving you a final look-over. She nodded to herself when she was satisfied, gently pushing you into a chair.

"Irene, I'm probably gonna stand up again once he comes in," you said, even as your boss meticulously straightened out every little bit and piece on the table.

"That might be true, but when Jongdae walks up to the entrance, the first thing he's going to see is you sitting here by the window. With the light coming at you from this angle and your vase of flowers here, you look like you belong in a painting. Jongdae will be at a complete loss for words."

Your lips quirked up at the unexpected compliments, thanking your friend for her help tonight.

"I'm happy to do this for you, Y/N. We all are." She glanced up, spotting something through the window. "I'd say good luck, but I know that you won't need it."

You followed her line of sight, sitting up in your seat and craning your neck until you saw Jongdae, frozen on the path leading up to the restaurant. He broke out of his stupor when he met your eye, raising a hand to wave shyly. You didn't even notice Irene as she slipped away discreetly, your heart melting at the sight of Jongdae. Your boss may have tried to frame you like a portrait in a museum, picturesque and pleasing to the eye, but no work of art could surpass Jongdae's beauty in your eyes.

Jongdae greeted Johnny at the entrance, following through the charade as the taller man led him to your table — the only occupied table in the entire restaurant. He took his seat, fingers tapping nervously against his legs as he gave you a crooked smile. "Hi, darling. I didn't think we'd be the only ones here tonight."

"Being friends with the owner has its perks," you shrugged nonchalantly. "Happy birthday, Dae." You had already wished him a happy birthday multiple times already, but you were overflowing with festive cheer. It was your first time celebrating his birthday, and you intended to make this a night he wouldn't forget.

"Thank you," Jongdae replied sweetly, his hand reaching over the table to meet yours.

Johnny came back with drinks and your specially crafted menus. There was only one option listed for each course, but you had made sure to pick dishes that Jongdae absolutely loved. His face lit up as he read down the list, unconsciously swallowing as if he could already taste the food. "Babe, this all sounds amazing. How am I gonna eat all of this?"

"I'm sure we'll find a way. And if we don't, at least we've got a full staff to help us out." You nodded towards the kitchen, Jongdae following suit only to see Key staring through the window. The head chef was unfazed at being caught, waving quickly before he disappeared from view and sending you and Jongdae into a fit of giggles.

The first course was the appetizer: a sampler of short ribs cooked in several ways. The bites were small, but enough to hold you over until the next course. Jongdae, ever the carnivore, dug in with gusto. "This isn't a dish on the menu, is it? Did you come up with this?" he asked in awe.

"I planned it with Key and Soo. They both helped me with the flavor combinations."

Jongdae sighed happily. "You're a genius. I could kiss you right now, you know?"

"I'd be fine with that," you smiled, leaning closer.

The door to the kitchen swung open, Ten coming to bring you the main course. You and Jongdae both jumped back in your seats, laughing quietly at your shared embarrassment.

If Jongdae was ecstatic at the sight of the appetizer, he was completely overjoyed when he saw what the main course was. "It's your kimchi stew," he gaped in wonder.

You had practiced the beloved recipe, the one from your cookbook that reduced you to tears months ago. It had taken a couple of test trials in the kitchen before you felt that it was absolutely perfect, nothing less than what you wanted to present to Jongdae. Tonight, Kyungsoo was in charge of it, but you trusted him with your recipe wholeheartedly.

Jongdae closed his eyes as soon as he took the first bite, the familiar spiciness and warmth rushing over him. "God, this is so good," he gushed, opening his eyes to meet your proud smile.

"I'm glad you like it. Kyungsoo did a great job with it tonight."

Jongdae nodded, scooping up some rice from the stone bowl beside his stew. "I'll have to give my compliments to the chef," he joked with a twinkle in his eye.

When both of you were done and felt like you couldn't eat any more, Ten came back to clear your dishes. You knew what was going to happen next, and the dormant butterflies in your stomach began to fly into a frenzy. Across from you, Jongdae sat oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"I don't know if I can eat any more. But then again, Mom always said I had a separate stomach for dessert." He laughed, hands resting over his full belly as you joined in.

"Well, I guess we'll see if that's true."

Jongdae raised an eyebrow, about to ask something when some of the lights went out, only your little corner by the window still illuminated by light. A chorus of singing could be heard from the kitchen, only to come flooding out once the doors opened.

Junmyeon carried the cake out, concentrating hard on singing and walking at the same time. Irene was beside him, hands outstretched as if she expected the cake to fall at any moment. Kyungsoo was right behind, the cake knife wrapped in a cloth napkin and held carefully in his hands as his cheeks glowed with excitement. The rest of the staff followed along, singing turning to shouts and cheers as the fun of it all started to sink in. Even Minseok and Baekhyun were there, Minseok recording on his phone and Baekhyun with a party hat on his head.

"Happy birthday!" Baekhyun yelled once the singing was over and the applause died down. He took off his hat to put it on Jongdae's head instead. Of course, always ready to go along with the fun, Jongdae let his best friend put the silly hat on him. It was much too small, and you were sure that he would have a mark on his chin from the rubber band, but none of it bothered him at all.

Junmyeon managed to get the cake onto the table without any incidents, much to everyone's relief. He hid behind Mingyu to wipe away the sweat at his temples while Jongdae grinned appreciatively at the cake.

"Matcha cheesecake?" he asked, eyes flashing up to meet yours.

"The one and only. I hope you like it, Dae."

"I love it, all of this. Thank you so much, darling." He brought your hand up, pressing a feather-light kiss to the knuckles there.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Minseok spoke up, still recording every moment.

Jongdae took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. It was almost like watching him pray, the way he whispered to himself so softly, no one else could hear. He opened his eyes and blew out the candles, the room erupting into cheers and applause once more.

Soon, the cake was cut and pieces passed around. Jongdae had tried to cut it at first, but the slices were in danger of coming out horribly uneven, so Kyungsoo stepped in. Everyone was scattered throughout the restaurant, lounging around and talking over their cake. They were mindful of your privacy, varied conversations never interrupting the intimacy shared at your table.

"Y/N, thank you so much for tonight," Jongdae murmured, now without his birthday hat. "This is the best birthday I've ever had."

"Really?" you asked, fork stopping halfway to your mouth as your froze, taken off-guard.

"Really," he repeated. "I can tell how much work you put into this, you and everyone here. I still can't believe how lucky I am to have someone do this for me."

"I do it because I love you, Dae." You set your fork down, the metal clattering against the ceramic plate. "I actually have one last surprise," you stammered out. The butterflies in your stomach had now reached peak frenzy, almost rendering you frozen.

Jongdae watched, half intrigued and the other half worried by the trembling of your fingers. You reached up to undo the clasp of your necklace, slipping your ring off of the chain and cradling it in your other hand.

"At the beginning of this year, I wasn't sure what would happen to me. I was terrified and lost, and it took everything I had to even try to piece my life back together." You paused, licking your dry lips and readying yourself for the next words. Jongdae's eyes were wide, emotion swirling in that expressive face of his. The love and awe that you saw there spurred you on, words coming more readily.

"I was scared of falling back in love with you because I knew even less about you than I knew about myself. And the more I found out about you, the deeper I fell. It was the biggest leap of faith I'd ever taken, trusting myself to you and hoping that we would both come out unscathed. And now, every single day, I'm so thankful to have you in my life. I love you more than I can say in words, more than I will ever remember. Kim Jongdae, will you marry me a second time?"

Jongdae jumped up, surprising you and everyone else in the room who had been listening in. He came around the table, stooping down to cup your cheeks gently before he kissed you.

Someone started hooting and cheering, but it was merely background noise to you. How could you focus on anything else when Jongdae was kissing you like you were the most precious thing he had ever set eyes on?

"Is that a yes?" you mumbled against his lips, raising an eyebrow when Jongdae chuckled softly.

"Yes, with all of my heart." Jongdae crouched down beside you, on his knees as he took the ring from your hand. Both of you watched as he slid it carefully onto the finger that had been bare for so long. Once it was nestled safely against your skin, you pulled him back in for another kiss, giggling when your friends began to crowd the two of you again.

"Yo, but can people really get married twice?" Mark asked to no one in particular, looking from face to face for his answer.

"I was thinking more of us renewing our vows, but asking him to marry me just seemed more romantic," you explained with a laugh.

"And it worked," Jongdae added, his hand stroking the side of your face. "I'd marry you a thousand times over, if you asked me to."

"Don't say that, she'll really make you do it," Minseok interrupted.

You stuck your tongue out at your older brother, ignoring the chuckles of amusement at your childish reaction. Jongdae reached down to pick up your left hand, his thumb running reverently over the ring there.

"Thank you," he whispered to you, his forehead resting against yours. "Thank you for choosing me again, even after everything."

"Darling, I always will. Even after every hardship, every unexpected thing that comes out way, we’ve managed to still make it out together. With you, I'm never lost."

Jongdae's gaze softened, his brown eyes reflecting your own hopes and dreams back for you to see. You felt his thumb run over your ring again, the touch comforting and immediately putting you at ease. "You'll never be lost again," he said sincerely.

"I promise."

Series masterlist: ( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( Final )

A/N: and that’s a wrap! thank you to everyone who’s been reading not only this series, but any of my jongdae fics since I started posting them here! 💕💕💕

for the flowers in the vase: baby's breath means long lasting love, dandelions can mean bravery, personal growth, healing, perseverance (there were lots of mixed meanings) and black-eyed susans mean encouragement.

if you guys remember the small paragraph I shared of this a long, long time ago before I really started working on the series, this will seem pretty different from that. I went through a lot of changes after hearing about jongdae's good news because I didn't want to write a jongdae scenario so close to reality. i’m still happy to end this series on a good note, and I can genuinely say that i’ve enjoyed every moment not only of writing this, but for writing everything i’ve done for jongdae. I won’t be writing any reader x jongdae fics anymore, but there’s always a good chance he’ll show up as a side character in future works!

tag list: @khelmatic @chogi-wae @wongxiexie

#exo #chen #chen scenario #jongdae scenario #chen fanfic #jongdae fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

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anewkaiju · 4 years

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Top Chef Los Angeles Recap: Episode 1

These are strange times. There has always been an element of the unknown to our day-to-day, but typically it's only ever discussed or thought about in terms of limitless potential and never-ending, never-ceasing possibility. Of course, there's also always been a flip side to that element of unknown. You know it. The dread-inducing one. The one no one ever wants to bring up, delve into, wrestle with, or even talk about really. It's hard to say for sure, but that may be where we are now. Or maybe it isn't, and all will be well eventually. This shit is so strange and is going to take time to figure out, but we all have to figure it out and our best chance at figuring it out is considering our community and working together. So, we got that going for us.

These are also strange times that require certain measures to be taken to keep everything hammered down and in place. Put another way, a little TV is needed in order to provide some sort of sense of stability. Put yet another way, it'll help keep shit together. Which is how, we have ended up here. For reasons that are not entirely clear to me (yet) an idea formed in front of me that this latest season of Top Chef (the 17th one) needs to be written about. So, here we are.

The first thing to note about the new season of Top Chef is that it is an All-Star season, which just means that these are all contestants who have been on the show before and have now been invited back. This raises immediate questions in my mind concerning how one becomes a Top Chef All-Star. On what basis exactly is a chef measured to make this sort of call? This doesn't feel like something we can compare to the NBA's All-Star selection process. There, they have the fans for the starters and then league coaches and members of the press vote for the reserves. So, with this cast, are we supposed to believe these are fan favorites or have these chefs been chosen because the people who watch food most closely believe them to be the best? Little of both?

One of the other things about Top Chef and watching Top Chef, at least for me, is that maybe that stuff doesn't matter. You could try to handicap this show and identify the frontrunner and the number one contender and track everyone's progress through that lens, but that grows old eventually. In my mind, the show is at its best when someone is dialed in and making what feels like the best food they've ever made in their entire life. A lot of the time this individual making what feels like the best food they've ever made is painted as the underdog, and that's fine. Watching an underdog zig and zag their way through a competition, defy the odds and then take the title makes for pretty good entertainment. It's also one of those things where there's a lot of talk about James Beard nominations and "features in Food & Wine magazine" and it all sounds really impressive, but what do those accolades actually mean, and more importantly for our purposes, what do those accolades mean for TV? Where's your resume when you're cooking in the snow on the side of a mountain? Also, what does pedigree matter when so often on this show the judges slam someone for cutting corners or ignoring fundamentals? It's also important to note that I know almost nothing about food aside from what I have discerned from watching this show.

How food is thought about and talked about on TV and the internet has changed considerably over the last few years. In the early to mid 2000s, 'good cooking' was more often than not presented and defined as all about splashy presentation, style and a million other things going on at once. The term "celebrity chef" originated around this time to describe someone who is now famous because they cook. Your signature could just be a wild looking plate. This isn't meant to put down food artists, but perhaps some passes were given that shouldn't have been. It's like if you could talk it up enough and find the right wrapping for it then, magically, no questions are asked and what you are putting out into the world doesn't have to be fact or quality checked. This all works on the timeline too as this was also a period in history were there lots of bad rappers at the top (50 Cent, Ja Rule, etc) and the NBA was mired in this weird post-Jordan funk.

It's almost as if things had to pivot back in on itself. These days, simplicity is celebrated. Or maybe it has always been essential and I am just dumb. Either way, let's call this foggy idea the Chef's Table Effect. Now, with chefs, you want to know about their approach to food and what their mindset is like. We want to know how they look at food and how they get it. We want to learn about real, living, breathing chefs and not just be told about someone who is now famous because they cook. In early seasons of Top Chef, there were more personalties, people who just wanted to rub elbows with celebrities and put their names on restaurants. Over time, that has subsided some and when it does happen it comes across as much more transparent. The good chefs emerge no matter what. Their personalties reveal themselves in their own time (call this the Kawhi effect if you must,) and because they are making 'good' food it's all that much more enjoyable/rewarding to watch. We are in this time where food is considered in more serious terms, and as a result, we get more grounded, thoughtful food TV programming. I like to think of it as more of an actual uprising. Everyone collectively all at once had one too many exploding shrimp cocktails bathed in brandy and bedded in dry ice and began asking questions about what we are doing here exactly. With that in mind,

The episode itself was fairly straight-forward. The chefs show up. They are asked to do a mise en place, which is like a prep work drill essentially but since this is a competition show there's a real emphasis on speed and accuracy. There were artichokes, oranges and almonds, and it was explained, that the first five chefs to break down their artichokes would form a team and be allowed to leave for a kitchen right away. When this happens, all remaining chefs would stop with whatever artichoke business they may have left and shift their attention to the oranges. Once five chefs had handled their oranges sufficiently they would then become the second team and then be allowed to head for the kitchen. Everyone left with the almonds would take on the mantle of the third team, and be allowed to move to the kitchen once they were all finished. This opening challenge served mostly as a shakeout session to get things moving and for viewers at home to see if anyone is trying out a new style, whether it be a cooking flourish or a new haircut.

After the mad dash mise en place, the chefs are once again sorted into teams, although, this time around, they go into five teams of three as opposed to three teams of five. For the main challenge of this episode, each team has been asked to make a cohesive, family-style seafood meal over a single open flame and an open flame only for a table of esteemed, established chefs and cuisine writers.

here is what they presented:

Melissa: Grilled Swordfish with hot & sour sauce, ember grilled radicchio and fresno chiles

Karen: Grilled scallops, gingered plums, nuoc cham and nappa cabbage slaw

Angelo: West coast oyster with smoked bacon rice porridge

Bryan: Sea urchin, spot prawns with hibiscus ponzu and burnt avocado

Joe: Sesame and semolina flatbread with clams, fried garlic, sea urchin, pickled peppers and miso parmesan aioli

Lee Anne: Shoyu Tare Glazed Halibut with charred sweet corn and cabbage, sea urchin and uni miso beurre blanc

Gregory: Charred salmon with grilled peaches and roasted chili dressing

Jamie: Steamed mussels with ember scaled cream and toasted bread

Stephanie: Brined prawn with charred tomato sauce and roasted corn dressing

Jennifer: Spiced tuna loin over grilled kale with red pepper tahini sauce

Nini: Grilled scallops, carrots, tomatoes with charred brussels sprout & fennel salad

Kevin: Eye of swordfish braised in chorizo with coal-roasted onion, olives and peas

Lisa: Charred shrimp and scallop ceviche with candied squash, mushrooms and avocado

Bryan V.: Sablefish with corn porridge and charred leeks

Eric: Chesapeake boil with grilled prawn

It's striking looking at all of these dishes written out. Granted, this is being written from a position of hindsight, but it's so clear which dishes were a hit and which were not. Again, I'm not very bright so this isn't a food know-how thing. It's just a words thing. The most composed, concise dishes were the ones that elicited acclaim. This should maybe be a working rule. If the description of your dish runs over a line long, then you might be in trouble. (You might be looking at Lisa's dish and noticing that it runs over, but it's just barely. She's a great chef who is being oddly slept-on already. She went all the way to the final in her season and has a very no nonsense, quiet drive.)

Anyway, the judges loved Gregory, Jamie and Stephanie's meal with Gregory taking the overall win. Joe, Lee Anne and Bryan had far and away the least liked dish. The challenge called for a family-style meal, indicating that everything will end up on the same plate, so the two sauces made that one flatbread mad soggy. Joe went home for it. (Lee Anne ran into some issues on the grill, but these things happen and Padma said there was a lot to like about her dish. Lee Anne was also on the very first season of Top Chef and the last time anyone saw her was a few seasons back when she surprise-returned. In that episode, the challenge was to cook over an open flame in four feet of snow on the side of a Colorado mountain. Lee Anne was four months pregnant. After she knocked out her dish, she seemingly achieved clarity and announced to everyone that she was going home to prepare for the birth of her child.)

For whatever reason, it tends to take a few episodes before the show really starts moving. There will probably be a few more wild-sounding challenges under even more wild-sounding circumstances. Based off of the "this season on Top Chef" tease shown at the end of the episode, the competitors visit at least one museum and at least one stadium. The official title of this season is Top Chef: Los Angeles which would suggest that everything will be contained to the city of Los Angeles as opposed to the entire state.

There was also a moment in the tease where actor Danny Trejo, star of Machete, Machete Kills and the forever-stuck-in-development Machete In Space, can clearly be seen visiting the Top Chef kitchen which is wildly encouraging.

#bravo #tv #top chef #recap #review #writing

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ecofinisher · 5 years

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Day 3: Date Night (Adrigami)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18142001/chapters/42971090

@mlshipfleet

Adrien sat with Kagami together in a Japanese restaurant on a small table with their legs crossed waiting for the dinner to arrive.

“It’s been a while since I have eaten Japanese meals,” The blonde told the girl sitting right in front of him. “I think the last time I ate was two months before my mom had disappeared”

“Was it a family dinner?” Questioned the blue-haired girl earning a nod from the blonde.

“Yeah” Responded Adrien. “We went to celebrate my mother’s career as an actress having gone so well”

“Did you also have to eat with chopsticks, right?”

“Yeah, okay it’s a long while ago, but I think I won’t have a problem with it,”

“You know we’re here in Japan now and I would rather you to pay attention to what you do or how you do it. I don’t know if you’re getting me”

“We have to wait until all dishes are served uhm….we should finish nearly at the same time, we should not wave or point with the chopsticks at someone….erm….we get for the family-style meals chopsticks as with those we scoop for us to eat”

“And if we don’t have them, what do we do instead?”

“Uh….use our own?”

“And how?”

“Oh I know….with the other part, which we don’t put in our mouth”

“Very well” Complimented Kagami. “Do you know, where to place the chopsticks, when you’re not using them?”

“Here on this tray, where it’s lying right now”

“Good, in Japanese we call it Hashioki,”

“Hashioki…,” Adrien repeated making Kagami smile.

“You’re doing a great progress” Complimented the girlfriend placing her hand on the table near to Adrien’s hand.

“I’m learning with the best teacher,” The Frenchman said with a chuckle making the blue-haired girl giggle and place her hand over Adrien’s.

A Japanese waiter appeared with the dishes, then Adrien and Kagami took their hand away and observed the waiter setting up the various small plates on the table.

Adrien smiled at Kagami, then observed the waiting putting the same plates in front of Adrien making it mirrored to the way he placed the dishes in front of Kagami.

“Wow,” Adrien said looking at the various foods on his side of the table.

“Do you know anything from here?” The Japanese descendant girl asked earning a nod from the boyfriend, which took his chopstick going towards the rice, then he saw Kagami raise her eyebrows in shock, then Adrien realized he was about to do a mistake.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Adrien said putting the chopsticks away. “Well the first bowl has rice in it, the one in front a few sushi rolls, on the left there’s raw salmon and those pink slices are watermelon, that’s ramen and this here is tempura, right?” Questioned Adrien earning a nod from his girlfriend.

“Itadaki-masu,” The blue-haired girl said and grabbed along with Adrien on their chopsticks. Kagami picked up one sushi roll, opened her mouth and placed it on her tongue, then closed her mouth starting to chew it afterward observed Adrien which looked at his hand, where he held the pair of chopsticks, then opened and closed it slowly.

“You’re holding them right,” The girlfriend said and Adrien looked around his dishes, where to start first then picked up one shrimp and before he put it into his mouth it slipped down and fell on the table.

“Oh,” Adrien said embarrassed, making Kagami chuckle.

“Try to put the first chopstick over there, where your thumb and index finger are connected with each other,” Kagami instructed then Adrien had used his free hand to replace the first chopstick, then he took the second one and placed it between his index finger and thumb.

“Good now try again”

Adrien picked up a sushi roll and took it up close to his mouth and succeed at it, then chewed the roll and swallowed it down.

“It’s going good. Keep going” The Japanese girl said making Adrien nod proud, then he took as next a slice of salmon and placed it in his mouth to chew the elastic fish meat and gulped it down.

“This might be weird, but I actually prefer raw salmon, than grilled salmon”

“That’s not weird at all”

“Then that was just my impression” Adrien said, then goes with his chopsticks at the tempura, then before he picks it he rolls his eyes at Kagami, which picked up one of the fried shrimp up and bite off a bit of the crustacean chewing it and Adrien copied her ripping the half of the shrimp up, therefore the other end of the shrimp felt down on the dish with the rice. Adrien picked the end of the shrimp up and introduced it into his mouth, afterward he took a look on his dishes and decided to try to use his chopsticks on the rice and picked them up normally guiding the scoop to his mouth while losing on the way some grains, that landed on the table and on Adrien’s white kimono.

“Adri, if you want you can pick up the bowl like this” Kagami said taking her bowl of rice, held it up over her chest and scooped a bit of rice with her chopsticks and put it inside her mouth.

“Okay it’s better”

Adrien took the bowl up close to him and took a bit of rice from it and shove the rice into his mouth earning a thumb up from the girlfriend.

“It’s not that difficult now, right?” The blue-haired girl asked gazing at the blonde taking another scoop of rice.

Minutes later both were nearly finished and they stopped together leaving a few rests on the plates.

“It was really good,” Adrien said passing licking his lips and cleaning his hands on the wet towel he and Kagami had on a wooden tray on the table to clean their hands.

“That’s great to know” Replied Kagami.

“I would love to have a dessert now, but too bad, they don’t sell some here”

“If you want we can later pass by a coffee shop and buy a muffin or something else” Suggested Kagami. “Mostly now you’re not used to not finish your food and you’re probably still a little hungry?”

“Yeah, it kinda is strange. My father always complained, if I didn’t eat everything off my plate, here it isn’t like that”

“Don’t need to worry, you did fine for the first time here. When we’re home we won’t mind, if you eat everything off the dish or not”

“Thanks, Kagami,” Adrien said looking at his plates and noted the tempura, then looked at Kagami, which had been looking at it too.

“I guess I’m not the only one, who’s still hungry,” Adrien said with a smirk, making the blue-haired girl giggle. Adrien picked up his chopsticks and grabbed the shrimp and guided it to Kagami, making her flinch as he approached her with the food.

“Uh is this also considered as immodest?” Questioned Adrien taking the shrimp down.

“This sort of makes people think on a ritual, that it’s done at the funeral”

“Oh, that’s not, what I was intending to make. That’s in Europe sort of a cute gesture. You know the boyfriend giving his girlfriend food into her mouth or vice versa”

“I know” Responded Kagami. “And that is sweet, just here isn’t quite the right place to do so, back at home or in France, it’s better for us”

“Great, thanks for the explanation,” The Frenchman said gladly about Kagami’s constant help.

“I thank you”

“For what?” The blonde questioned bewildered.

“For taking me out tonight,” The Japanese girlfriend told the boyfriend making him smile and bow down.

“Dōitashimashite” He said making Kagami smile, then the waiter showed up with a bill, then Adrien took out his wallet and took out a couple of cash bills, then placed the second hand on the cash bills and hand it with both hands the money to the waiter, which looked a bit confused at the blonde, then gave Adrien the change back and Adrien took it with both hands again and put it into his wallet.

“What was that?” Questioned Kagami amused by the scene.

“Uh I had read, that if there was no tray for the money I had to use both hands to give the waiter the money”

“Ah okay, well it’s not exactly that way, but it doesn’t matter now. I can show it to you another time, what you probably wanted to do”

“Great” Adrien said getting up from the pillow along with Kagami and placed his hands behind his back stretching himself. “Woah well that’s not as comfortable as the futon”

“Well the coffee we’re going to visit then has chairs, like down in France, so you will have it a little better, than here”

“Good, but I also can’t wait to get to sleep tonight. I have never slept so good in my life, than in your bed”

“That’sounds lovely”

“Can we go?” Asked Adrien holding his hand out for Kagami, which she unhesitatingly grabbed it and smiled at the tall boy, afterward he smiled back at the girl and walked away together to the exit of the Japanese restaurant.

#adrimi #adrami #adrigani #adrigami week #Kagami Tsurugi #adrien agreste #kagadrien

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whenisitnottimeforbed · 6 years

Text

Unscheduled Change in Procedure (II)

" 'Shields'? Really?"

"Like Brooke, or Sam."

"Who the h*ll is Sam Shields?"

"Football player." Clint and Coulson had both responded quietly while Natasha held back her growls.

"...Packers, Super Bowl 2011-" The thinner agent couldn't help but add, looking off because he knew Natasha was glaring at him over the file she'd been handed. Clint had glanced over his shoulder at the other room where the two children sat in chairs next to each other, Pietro with his arm around Wanda and clearly trying to say something advisory or reassuring to her. Neither room could be heard from the other.

"Don't you think it's a little less than discrete?" Nat had asked while she flipped a page up and looked into more of the information provided. The folder was infuriatingly thin.

"Covert affairs isn't known for their naming creativity. I heard one of them had a baby and named it John Joe. Hmph. But, if you can think of a better name, then by all means-"

"How about Ne Sem'ya. It means 'Not Family' in Russian."

"Shields it is."

"Coulson, really-?" Clint interjected into the exchange, shaking his head. He might be less vocal about it, but he certainly felt the same way.

"This is the only way it will work."

"We have rooms here in the compound- nice ones. And agents who are trained for asset holding and ones who teach. All. Right. Here." Natasha had argued.

"All the details aren't being passed down, but the salient points are that we've been aware of Pietro and Wanda Maximoff for almost all their lives. Much like the rest of the mutant population, we've never gone after them, but others have, and they were once interned. It's after that that we switched from 'aware' to 'monitored'."

"And now 'reared'?"

"Agents, think of it more like babysitting. Once we find suitable replacements, you'll be able to switch out and go back to your regular lives."

"And How long is that going to take?"

"I wouldn't be able to say-"

"Coulson-"

"Mm. Don't make any personal plans for at least a month."

~~~

"A month, Clint. A month." Natasha glowered. Pietro quietly herded Wanda toward the white-painted iron gate, minimally designed and shoved it open so they could get onto the driveway. It was a long concrete rectangle surrounded by dead patches of weed-grass and packed dirt with a sidewalk piping to the rear of the house, but they headed toward the front door of the little one story house. It was a bland tan-peach color, possibly sunbleached, with a Spanish styled roof and one smaller window visible at this angle. There was one thin tree adorning front yard, two potted plants in the sliver of dirt between the walk to the door and the house wall. Neither looked well cared for or matched the decor or landscape and were still in their hardware store black plastic buckets, vastly different in size. The piece de resistance though was a very old, faded, peeling satellite dish propped up on one corner of the building.

"Have you ever lived with children for a month?"

"I've babysat for my sister before-"

"But for a month?" She asked, at a loss. With a sigh forced out more like a huff she picked up one of her bags, beginning to head in, "And besides, Laura's kids are practically angels. You can't compare that to what we're about to do."

"We'll get through this, Nat." His dissatisfaction manifested, unlike hers in haughty agitation, but, as usual, in an exhausted sort of submission to his circumstances.

She grumbled back, but headed inside. He couldn't help a little smile, though, when he heard her yell,

"Bags don't go in front of the door!" but got started scanning his surroundings. Around back was another large, quartered concreted area, clearly meant to act as the 'garage', and some more dirt. The fences around were about five feet high in matching stucco with some lattice work design, topped with more far spaced, short, white, iron spires. There was one window near the front door, and the rest at the back of the house were blocked by the 6 foot inner wall, solid that bent around from the front door to the concrete in the backyard. The house was as fortified as one could hope for this location as far as exterior and viewing points were concerned. If he was reading their expressions right, it was apparently pretty soundproof as well.

"You are sleeping! In separate! Rooms!" is what Natasha was currently saying, well, arguing.

"No!" Pietro shouted back, "You can't make us! We sleep together! It's safer!"

"No, it's not-" Natasha approached him quickly, sick of his backtalk, and threw him off guard a little- he stumbled but he held his ground, "If someone comes in the house to take you, then they get both of you at once. OUR way, they only get one."

"We don’t need you- if someone gets in the house, we'll fight them off together-" he growled back at her before mumbling, "If we haven't run away by then."

"Run?" Natasha laughed, "How? On that leg? You won't get two blocks."

"Perimeter’s secure." Clint came in saying and Natasha could hear him stumble over duffel.

"Didn't I tell you to move your bag?" Natasha shoved Pietro at his back toward the door.

"It's too heavy." He stumbled and limped a bit, Wanda skittering over quickly to take his hand again.

"Tough it out; I'm not your mother and I'm not your maid." she pointed at him before turning and rolling her eyes at his wild, angry little face, and heading toward another room, "Complaining never made anyone any stronger."

The house had come furnished, of course, in what was basically a spastic IKEA workers submission to Better Homes and Gardens. The color palette the agency decided to work with was creams, lavenders, and cherry-browns in all the common areas, with a floral or vine theme, and soft edges. Like someone's great aunt might live in. The interior of the house itself- walls and floors and such- was white-white, and spackled with tile flooring everywhere except the bedrooms which had slightly off white carpet.

There were three bedrooms- one clearly catering to a boy raised in the middle of the last century and the other obviously constructed for a girl who had an abnormal fixation with the color pink and polka dots. Finally there was the master and en suite, which, regrettably, was done out in deep burgundys and what appeared to be white fur-shags, and black wall ornamentation that one could only deduce was chosen by a 1970's fetishist. Leaving that aside was this horribly obnoxious salmon color someone had vomited all over everything in the en suite, presumably to make all the mint green linens and accent pieces pop. Someone who'd peaked in the 80s had been assigned the bathroom.

Venturing beyond the sleeping quarters, there was a kitchen with an 'open concept'- it was small, so raising a wall would have probably made it a closet. Apparently a Martha Stewart magazine must have been lying around because there were a three jars of olives, noodles, and tiny tomatoes stuffed into jars with cork tops about the neck with twine sitting on the window sill above the sink- a window that looked out at 70 % wall, 25 % neighbor roof, and 5 % sky. And that was all the ambiance for what could pass for the cooking space of a mental institution. Three measly jars.

A living room and dining room truncated each other outside the imaginary line that defined the paired kitchen and, beyond the raised counter where two high legged chairs pulled up, the 'breakfast nook' territory. The dining room, a cube with 3 sides across from the kitchenette, held a country style wood table- the top painted creame while the center column remained natural- covered in a long thin cloth down the middle. Surrounding it were four brown wooden chairs with creame cushions tied to their seats.

The living room, nearer the front of the house was furnished with a creme couch, matching loveseat and armchair, with this ribbing striping its entire upholderied body, as though it were an animal warning others not to come near. To counteract this, there was a purple throw provided over it's back and pillows with vinework stitched in placed at it's pockets. On a wall that was nearly bisecting the square footage of this area and yet didn't quite reach all the way to the ceiling, there was a Television mounted, probably 58" and poised above a small entertainment table with a DVD/Blu-Ray player, a wii, and a cable box. And at the end of it all, near the corner of this wall hoping not to draw attention to itself, was was a door where, inside, beyond the view of the rest of the house and cut off from it like a secret, was the set up of all of the agency's surveillance and security equipment. It also included the closet for the tactical and defensive weapons, and the trap door that led to a 'plan z' escape route. After all the effort put in, this house could do little else short of pulling in visitors by their collars and screaming "I AM AN EXACT AVERAGE OF EVERYONE IN YOUR LIFE YOU'VE FORGOTTEN TO PAY ATTENTION TO!" in their faces.

"Ugh." Natasha pulled the door to the surveillance room closed behind her, the autolocking engaging and strode over to collapse into the puffy new sofa. She huffed again and crossed her legs when Clint gave her an eyebrow and a shake of his head.

"I know how to play this part, but we're inside and this is ridiculous- what do they think it is, the '50s?" She sighed, looking out one of the two windows to the beautiful view of the side of the neighbor's fence. Natasha's arrival outfit had been chosen as a red camisol under a thin, white, sleeveless blouse with big photo prints of roses in red, purple on the bottom half. She tucked this into high waisted white, rolled-cuff shorts and a large, rustic brown belt buckled around her waist to match the brown on the oxford flats on her feet. Clearly not something she usually had to don.

"I'm sure there are khakis in there somewhere." Clint chuckled, sitting in an armchair nearby, his smile slowly melting away. He'd been allowed to wear a green plaid shortsleeve button up over a blue hanes, and a pair of jeans and addidas sneakers. Natasha glanced at him and gently shook her head looking off again without giving a response otherwise.

It was quiet, and in that pause in the otherwise hectic day their thoughts were allowed to bubble over. So, they were doing this. It was done. They were taking care of two children on orders from Director Fury himself in some lower suburb of the Las Vegas area with little more to go on than, "Handle Asset Care."

"We shouldn't be here." Clint’s thoughts, almost silent, snuck out of his mouth, “I'm not a-”, just as the kids came back in,

"Now, what are we supposed to do?" Pietro asked indignantly, Wanda watching with wide eyes from where she trotted behind him. Clint fatigue pressed him further staring at their eyes, expectant and confused. What the h*ll was he supposed to do with a couple of kids- why in the world did they put him here? What was this feeling growing every second they stared at him and he sat there unable to figure out this puzzle? Wanda looked him over as he held still for a moment and her eyes fell away, turning instead to the floor. Ah yes, it was so clear when it was on someone else's face; dissapointment. Yeah, that seemed about right. And yet, he couldn’t just sit there forever-

"Well, I guess we should-" Clint tried, right before a roach the size of freaking bird flew from the "foyer" with a buzzing that could have doubled for a powerline, deciding to launch itself at Pietro. They boy was wearing a pushed up black long sleeve over the blue graphic blue t and was probably the darkest colored thing in the house- camoflauge. As if it were an actual monster, the boy made the most unfiltered, childish, whimpering yip through his teeth and swung at it. As soon as his arm made contact, disgusted, it flew back with the rest of him into his little sister who was frightened by his lack of composure and both of them crumpled to the floor. The adolescent kicked his good leg at the grounded beast who was just looking for some dark color in this sterile house to blend in to and hide on. It's scrambling was halted with a the 'ting' of metal as a blade thrust its tip into the tile through the bug's carapace. The children both stared in silent horror at the animal, whose legs thrashed in panic and confusion, and up the hilt of the 4 inch long weapon to its owner who stared at them with eyes that left them feeling empathy with the insect. A soft whimper bubbled from Wanda.

"Nat-"

"No," She held up a hand to stop him before he could continue and stood, going over to her knife and pulling it free.

"Pick it up and throw it back outside." she ordered. Pietro stared at her frozen for a moment longer, but, keeping his eyes on her as long as he dared, reached out toward the two pieces of bug.

"No. You." She pointed the knife under her finger at Wanda who nearly wilted right there.

"I can do it!" Pietro protested.

"But she's going to."

"No, I am!"

"Pick it up."

"Can't you see she's scared?" Natasha dropped to one knee in front of him so quickly his breath caught.

"The world is a scary place. And you can't keep carrying her like dead weight."

"She's not dead weight! You don't know! You don't have anyone who loves you!"

"Kid-" Clint nearly interjected but Natasha signalled that she still wanted control of the situation.

"Oh, yeah? Then show me what that means. Show me how your love keeps both of you alive."

"I will!"

"Then stop me-" And before he could do anything at all, she'd snatched Wanda away from him. The girl was terrified, crumpling like paper into herself while she reached for her brother who started, reaching back and stumbling on his injured leg, nearly falling back down. He looked up at his target though and bit deeply into his lips, jetting forward. Nearly a blur, he grabbed her ankles with a pained moan to pull her away but Natasha shoved his hands away, swinging Wanda a different direction, and he gave chase.

At least three times he had her in his grasp and Natasha was always able to pry her from him, and both children were becoming increasingly distressed and dissatisfied. Finally Wanda reached out herself and took hold of her brother's arm, and when Natasha pulled to break their bond, Pietro, enraged and losing focus, threw his fist out to strike Natasha but his wild punch, engaged with speed, was dead on for his sister's midsection instead. Whipping her away, Natasha reached out her other palm to receive the force of his hand. It stung. Wanda, resting on Natasha's side in the air, had pulled her legs up- a natural reaction to seeing when you're about to be struck. The realization seemed to strike Pietro- his eyes darted between his enemy and his ward in a condition of disbelief frayed with horror.

"Love won't keep either of you safe. If you don't stop carrying her, both of you are doomed to suffer. You're not strong enough to protect her." Natasha spoke, standing up and let the girl go. She scampered off to her brother.

"Pick it up and put it outside." At once, Wanda ran over and grabbed the bug and raced to the door, but Pietro, chin quivering and brows so furrowed he'd probably have an ache, stared back at Natasha until his eyes watered. When Wanda returned she reached out gently and took his arm, breaking his trance and he limped off with her down the hall. After a few moments a slam cracked through the house. Natasha stood there for just a few seconds before she wiped the blade a bit on the cuff of her shorts and tucked it back into whatever sparse hiding space she'd managed to find in the outfit. Taking a moment to glance down the hall, she turned away and came back, face mussed in frustration, and sighed it back to indifference when she sank back onto the couch, resting her chin on her fist and looking at the wall.

"That wasn't too much?"

"I don't even know how they survived this long."

"I just think you could have done that a little later. They're scared, and turning their fear from bugs and shadows on to you doesn't help them. It's just going to make this month harder."

"We're supposed to be teaching them- that's what I just did. They ought to learn how to protect themselves better. And how to respect… superiors."

"But come on- they're just kids." Clint shook his head sitting forward to lean on his knees trying to look at her.

"So was I." And she felt the need to stand, walking a few steps into the center of the room, arms crossed, shifting her weight to one side, "This is ridiculous. Kids..." she glanced toward the hall and shook her head again, her shiny hair, styled in heavy curls at the bottom waving in small bounces around her neck. Clint caught himself staring at the form she turned away from him and how she kept huffing and looking toward that closed door. As he came to a realization his tire began to melt away and he swallowed a smile, standing up. There was work to be done.

On his feet once again, Clint headed passed her and into that narrow little hall toward the door with a chalkboard nailed to its face where "Pietro" was written. He gave a couple of knocks. Shadows under the door moved around but no sounds were made. He knocked twice more before speaking himself now,

"Alright, come on- come out you guys." There was no response so he leaned in a little closer trying to think for a moment, "No one's going to hurt you," he said as genuinely as he could, "I promise." There was more silence but then that shadow moved and he heard,

"--No, don't trust him. Remember what she did."

"Don't worry about Nat, she's a bit of a brute, huh? But you know, she's just got a hard way of proving points." His shoulder was backhanded and he turned with a small smile to see his partner nodding for him to try saying that again. It was still quiet and both of them stood quietly in this silence sussing out the emptiness for any clues at all about what was going on behind that door.

"It... wasn't a fair fight." a voice responded.

"Oh, yeah? How do you mean?" Clint asked.

"She... she's taller than I am. And, and stronger. I grabbed Wanda, I should have won."

"If you can't get her away from them, you think you can call it a win-?" Natasha interjected and Clint shook his head at her beseechingly to knock that off, signing "stop" at her with his hands a few times off to the side, while Pietro shouted, "You didn't explain the rules good! If I pulled on her I would have hurt her! If I pull you have to let go, you're a cheater!"

"Why don't you come out here and say that to my face?"

"N-no, that's alright, hold on, bud-"

"What are you doing?" Clint threw his hands in silent speech, signing in disbelief.

"What am I doing? What's this 'bud' stuff?"

"We need him to trust us- he doesn't like you."

"So what? I'm his handler- not his mother, and not his friend." She signed back with defiance, "So are you." He shook his head, giving up on the argument before turning back.

"Well, how about you try something else then? Double or nothing. We'll all just forget that first one, like a, like a practice."

"Are you going to do it this time?"

"No." Natasha answered.

"She's a cheater- she'll cheat again, because she's sneaky."

"-Then we'll do something you're good at," Clint continued before Natasha could fire back at him. The quiet dropped in again.

"How do you usually protect your sister?"

"We run." His answer was a bit quieter but he gave it, "Or I'll fight them."

"Alright, we can work with that. How about a spar?"

"Spar?"

"Yeah- all you have to do is land a hit on Natasha and you win. Does that sound good? You'll be the winner." once more they waited.

"N-No!" He pulled back, "No, she'll cheat!"

"Okay, okay, calm down- why don't you just show us your moves then? No winners, no losers- just let us see what you do, hm?" a pause.

"We'll leave you alone for a while if you do." Natasha rolled her eyes and added. The interlude was much shorter, and those shadows came to the door, unlocking and opening it. Wanda hid closer to Pietro when they noticed both adults crowding their door and Pietro glanced back, his arm out toward her comfortingly before glaring up at Natasha.

"You have to leave us alone until tomorrow."

"Done. Let's go."

#3623 words #clintasha #domestic fanfiction #fanfiction #au fanfiction #avengers #clint barton #natasha romanov #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #more to come

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vixxscifiwritings · 3 years

Text

like gently falling snow

Length - 4118 words

Characters - Wonshik x Jaehwan

Rating - Teen and Up

Summary - In which Jaehwan leaves his heart with Wonshik and Wonshik grapples with the realisation that he gave his away without knowing.

Series

Tag List - @tomatoholmes @merlionmen @seraphistols @k-craze-97 @blossomtearsleo

My lovely November. Have you seen my heart, somewhere in your castle of yellow leaves?

– A Waltz for Zizi

"Why did you come back to Paris?" Wonshik asks Hongbin.

He lays on his bed, sleep elusive as ever and watches his brother sketch as he lays on his own bed. Hongbin's bed is the one by the window and the golden light makes the tips of his hair look golden as opposed to brown. His skin glows, though Wonshik thinks it is the sweetness of a deep love that causes it and not sunlight.

It's a small room but it won't be for long. Wonshik has saved nearly enough from his earnings to buy a small apartment in a slightly better neighborhood. He watches as Hongbin sighs in response to his question and wonders if he will need to move to a bigger place when he is inevitably left alone.

"Tell me about Taekwoon, I barely know anything about him" Wonshik says and Hongbin launches into an animated description of him, Amboise and all the people he met there.

He wonders what kind of man his brother fell in love with, after knowing him only for a few days. He wonders if it is fate for them to have met in such a serendipitous way. He wonders if Jaehwan makes a habit of sneaking away pretty boys to far away places.

"It's a shame you couldn't come with us," Hongbin says wistfully. "It would have been a lovely vacation."

"There is never any rest for the wicked" Wonshik replies without looking. His gaze has been fixed out of the window and on the horizon where the sun set an hour ago and the orange sky gave way to blue. The clouds are shaped like pink cotton candy and Wonshik thinks if he reaches out to it, it might melt from the warmth of his touch.

"The café was quite busy today. Looks like it's picking up business. I'll come in tomorrow to help out" Hongbin promises. He feels guilty when he realises his brother has been managing so much work on his own and resolves to do better.

Wonshik waves him off. He has new staff who are quite capable of handling their duties. Besides, he knows Hongbin's heart lies in his art and not washing the dishes or manning the cash register. Besides, the café is just downstairs and if Wonshik really needs Hongbin’s help, he will call for him. He expresses the same and Hongbin makes him promise it.

He closes his eyes as Hongbin's phone chimes and his face lights up at a text from his boyfriend. Wonshik has an early morning and would like to give Hongbin some semblance of privacy.

His own phone is devoid of any messages and he finds that he quite misses Jaehwan, even if his flirtations might mean nothing in the end. Wonshik is now out of sight and out of mind for Jaehwan. He shouldn't raise his hopes. His brother has a once in a lifetime fairytale romance and such fortune isn't meted out so easily.

---

Jaehwan thinks he is lucky enough to catch his breath after endless days of stress. His family is a mess after his eldest brother elopes with the love of his life - a woman his mother disapproves of - and in a fit of rage, his father strikes him out of his will and exiles him from his family.

Secretly, Jaehwan envies his brother for finding an escape route. His parents will never forgive him and never see him or talk to him again. Jaehwan can't think of a greater freedom to aspire to.

"Now you listen to me Lee Jaehwan" his maternal aunt says, wagging a knitting needle wrapped in wool at him. His aunt is the eldest among four sisters and comes down from Sicily to meet his mother and console her after the terrible affair.

"Don't you dare follow in your brother's example. When the time comes, settle down with a good girl of your parent's choosing. None of this elopement nonsense. You'll quite break your mother's heart."

His aunt's tone quivers with rage towards the end and his mother grows hysterical and so Jaehwan doesn't have a choice but to agree and softly reassure his mother that he would never do such a thing. His aunt moves on to lecture her own teenage daughter and he takes the chance to get a glass of water to drink.

His heart has already betrayed his family's aspirations. Even if he has no expectations of Wonshik returning his affection. When was the last time they talked? Has Wonshik forgotten him? Does he think Jaehwan forgot him?

---

"The only thing worse than Taekwoon liking red wine would be him suddenly declaring he is in love with fruit wines. God forbid such a travesty but my brother has the poorest taste" Jaehwan grouses.

The sun has set over the valley and Hakyeon is napping on Sanghyuk's shoulder and Jaehwan can listen to Wonshik laugh on the other end of the phone. The world is perfect in this moment and Jaehwan lets the warmth besiege his heart.

"What have fruit wines done to you for you to dislike them so vehemently?" Wonshik asks on the other end. Jaehwan can hear him brew coffee from the telltale sounds of the espresso machine.

"It's a matter of principle" Jaehwan insists. Wonshik hums in response and Jaehwan frowns at his lack of indignance on his behalf.

"I wish you were here with us. You would have loved it here" Jaehwan confesses.

"Hongbin said the same last we talked. I was almost envious that I wasn't there" Wonshik replies. It's Jaehwan's turn to hum as words fail him. He wants to tell Wonshik that he wants him here for himself but chickens at the last minute. Perhaps he should have called him after he's had more liquid courage in his body.

"It's a shame that his vacation has to end. I don't think Hongbin wants to come back home" Wonshik jokes.

"He's truly, madly, deeply in love. It's one for the romance novels" Jaehwan says proudly.

"I did ask him if he wanted to stay there longer but he said he felt homesick" Wonshik said with regret ringing his voice.

"I'm sure he'll be welcomed back any time. Hakyeon and Taekwoon both have gotten so close to him in such a short period of time" Jaehwan says proudly.

He doesn't do this often, asking pretty boys to run away with him. It was a spontaneous offer meant for Wonshik but it was probably fate that Hongbin came in his stead. Fate that Taekwoon and Hongbin were supposed to meet like this and for Jaehwan to play his part in uniting them.

"I'm happy that he is happy" Wonshik says as he tinkers with vessels in his kitchen. Jaehwan thinks of his broad frame and the coffee coloured apron he loves to wear and the smell of scrambled eggs that he always orders and is struck by longing. Perhaps he should steal away on the train to Paris and refuse to go to Milan.

"It truly is a shame" Jaehwan says.

---

It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow.

- Roman Payne

"Do you think it will snow in Paris this winter?"

The text comes accompanied with a picture of Jaehwan in the sunlit neighborhood. It almost makes Wonshik think it is an old picture from earlier in the summer.

It's been a month since Hongbin came back to Paris and their conversation resumes slowly. Jaehwan tells him about his brother's elopement and his father's anger and the sudden onslaught of responsibilities that has befallen him. Wonshik replies that he understands but he doesn't, not really. He doesn't remember his parents and doesn't think they would be as strict as Jaehwan's sound.

"I doubt it. Paris never has snowfall beyond a light dust on the sidewalk even in the coldest winters" Wonshik replies as he keeps an eye on the sauce Chiwoong is cooking.

His newest recruit has the potential to be a chef someday and has an intuitive understanding of flavours and spices but also has the bad luck of burning his food because he never pays attention.

"It never snows in Milan" Jaehwan writes back. "Snow is a rare miracle. And with the high temperatures this year, I doubt it will snow this winter as well."

"I didn't know you liked snow this much" Wonshik says, mildly surprised. Jaehwan is a warm summer sun personified and he vaguely recalls Jaehwan saying his favourite season is spring. Yet the childish petulance in the reply makes Wonshik question his memory.

"I didn't as much when I was growing up but I went to Lucerne for the winter when I was nineteen. It was my first proper winter and it was beautiful."

"Is there a country in Europe that you haven't travelled to?" Wonshik asks jokingly. Jaehwan is the most extensively travelled person he has met. Wonshik never truly understood wanderlust till he met Jaehwan.

"Malta is the only one left. I was thinking of travelling there in spring next year. But as it stands, I doubt I will be going anywhere for a while" Jaehwan replies.

"Maybe spending some time with your family for a while is not such a bad thing. Your parents clearly feel better with you there" Wonshik says.

"Frankly, it's a nightmare here. It was bearable when my brother was around but now I can't wait to get away" Jaehwan tells him. He adds angry emojis for effect and Wonshik finds it cute.

"I might go away to Berlin for a while to inspect my father's factories there. I think I might be there for Christmas."

"Will you be in Paris anytime soon?" Wonshik types and deletes. Why would Jaehwan be in Paris? What reason does he have to travel here? He sends a polite "oh?" in response and Jaehwan texts him about the things he plans to do in Berlin on Christmas and about the winter markets he hopes to catch the tail end of.

Wonshik looks over and sees Woosung plating the salmon and pouring the sauce over. It isn't burnt and Wonshik considers this progress and pats Chiwoong on the back. His crew moves on to tackling the slowly increasing lunch rush and Wonshik takes leave from his conversation to focus on his work.

He idly wonders if he should wish for snow in the winter and use that as an excuse to ask Jaehwan to come visit him.

---

December is halfway through when Taekwoon pays Hongbin a surprise visit.

Wonshik and Hongbin take the evening off from work and attend a friend’s birthday. Drunk and out of their mind, they casually stroll down the streets to their apartment. The night is young but the cold makes their noses turn pink and makes them pull their coats close together. Wonshik regrets not bringing a scarf along and stops when they find a rather tall lanky man in a large overcoat that almost comes up to his knees.

“Taekwoon?” Hongbin calls out, uncertain at first. The silhouette is familiar but it could just be the alcohol talking. The man turns and smiles and Hongbin practically skips onto the porch to hug him. That is definitely the alcohol, Wonshik thinks. Hongbin is rarely that forward. Then again, Hongbin is a changed man.

“Surprise” Taekwoon says and his soft voice takes Wonshik by surprise. He stands transfixed, as surprised as his brother is.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris?” Hongbin asks, hitting Taekwoon on the shoulder. Taekwoon puts his hand around and whispers something into Hongbin’s ears, making him smile.

Wonshik bows his head and walks around to the staircase that leads up to the apartment. He doesn’t want to interrupt the lovebirds. There will be plenty of time for introductions later

Once back in their shared bedroom, Wonshik pulls his phone out to text Jaehwan. “Did you know that Taekwoon was planning on visiting Hongbin?”

“He was thinking of visiting him for Christmas” Jaehwan replies.

“He’s here today. Hongbin and I were out to meet a friend and when we came back, Taekwoon was waiting for him at the café” Wonshik tells him.

“That’s so romantic. I didn’t think Taekwoon would actually pull it off. He’s more on the shy side.”

“Something we have in common then.”

“Are you telling me that the cheerful café owner that greets every customer who walks in is a facade?!?!?!”

Wonshik rolls his eyes at the excessive exclamations and sarcasm. He throws his coat into the closet and jumps unceremoniously onto his bed.

"I wish I was in Paris too" Jaehwan types. "Berlin is beautiful but it would be better with you here."

"What's stopping you from running away?" Wonshik asks.

"I truly would have if my elder brother hadn't beat me to it" Jaehwan types.

"Seems like the season for everyone to go on grand adventures for love" Wonshik says out loud to himself.

He briefly entertains the thought of running away with Jaehwan. Maybe he can escape to the countryside too, driving to scenic places with wind and stray petals in his hair. A warm summer sun shining down on them instead of this cold winter breeze. Together and not miles apart.

"I wish you were here" Wonshik types and deletes.

---

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently?

- Lewis Carroll

"You've been distracted as of late" Taekwoon comments. Wonshik sighs because he considers lying but fails to find a good enough explanation. Of all the things he has learnt about Taekwoon in the past few days, the most important is that he isn't talkative. But he is quite sharp and observant and doesn't miss anything.

"It's just been a long day" he says as he wipes the floors. It's past eight and he's closing the café early since there are no customers. Taekwoon is taking Hongbin out for a fancy dinner and Wonshik doesn't fancy spending the night alone at the café. Hence Taekwoon is here, sitting by the counter and waiting for his brother while talking to him.

"I understand" Taekwoon says sympathetically. He sips on the coffee Wonshik prepares for him and takes in the café. Wonshik knows it isn't his first visit but this is the first time he is in his café without being distracted by his brother. His gaze narrows on the bookshelf against one of the walls, by the grand piano and Wonshik almost laughs. Jaehwan and Hongbin always called him a bookworm and he sees it firsthand now.

Taekwoon takes care not to dirty the wet floor and he tiptoes to the bookshelf. He peruses through the collection, mostly French bestsellers and pulls out a book. It's a coffee table book of famous lyrics from romance songs that Inseob, one his closest friends, added to the collection. It's one of the popular ones among the customers who come to his café to read. Wonshik has never paid attention to books but wonders if he should start with this.

Taekwoon stops at a page and reads it out loud. “Quand on n’a que l’amour pour tracer un chemin et forcer le destin a chaque carrefour.”

"When we have only love to show the way" Wonshik translates, "and change the course of fate at every crossroad."

"It's a mad business, to be in love with someone" Taekwoon says gently. "There's hardly any recourse to sensibility after."

"Is all romantic love that passionate?" Wonshik wonders idly.

"Sometimes love is a roaring fire of passion. Sometimes it is a slowly burning ember, sustaining through a long night together" Taekwoon says. He moves to the piano and presses a few keys. The instrument has slowly gone out of tune and Wonshik feels conscious about the weary state.

"Hongbin told me you liked to play" Taekwoon tells him as he plays a few chords. Wonshik knows the tune as the beginning of a piece that the neighborhood music shop would teach some of the beginner students. He doesn’t know the composer or the fancy names of the chords, just the combinations from playing by ear.

"I used to. I haven't in a long time" Wonshik admits. It's been years and he doubts he will remember anything.

"Jaehwan loved to play too. When he was over at the family house in Amboise, we could hardly tear him away from the grand piano" Taekwoon recalls with a smile. "Did he ever play for you here?"

"Unfortunately no" Wonshik says regretfully. It's one of those things he didn't suspect about Jaehwan, but once learnt fits perfectly into the puzzle that is the man he likes.

"You might be lucky. He would never have stopped if you had let him play" Taekwoon scoffs. Wonshik laughs and Taekwoon admires how his eyes twinkle. Hongbin is the prettiest man he has ever known but his brother is no less handsome.

“Well, I don’t know when Jaehwan will be in Paris next so maybe I am safe for the foreseeable future” Wonshik says. There is a tinge of regret there and it is enough for Taekwoon to pick it up and frown.

“Well, if I know Jaehwan, he would give anything to give everything up and be here in Paris. Surely, you know how he feels?” Taekwoon asks delicately.

“I do…” Wonshik trails off.

“But you worry about the distance between the two of you” Taekwoon says wisely. It’s a common concern of the people who love Jaehwan. He’s never in one place for too long and the worry of being out of sight and out of mind is only natural in people like Wonshik, who tend to choose a place and settle down and look for stability.

“What’s stopping you from visiting him if you miss him so much?” Taekwoon asks. It’s a simple question and a direct mirror of the one Wonshik has asked Jaehwan in their last conversation.

Wonshik has no answer. He’s scared. What if Jaehwan simply said he missed him for the sake of saying it? What if Wonshik isn't on the same page as Jaehwan? The intensity of his own feelings scares him and he doesn’t know how to phrase this convincingly to the man who travelled miles to see the man he loves.

The truth is, Wonshik is a coward who has never liked someone the way he likes Jaehwan or loved so devotedly.

The two are interrupted by Hongbin coming downstairs. "I'm not too late am I? We won't miss the reservation?" Hongbin asks worriedly.

He's dressed in his best light blue shirt and pants that Wonshik lent him and his hair is styled to keep the messy curls in place. Taekwoon's eyes light up at the sight of his boyfriend and Wonshik believes he would react the same if Hongbin had dressed in rags. He feels happy and envious simultaneously.

"You look lovely and don't worry we won't" Taekwoon assures him.

"I'll be late," Hongbin tells Wonshik.

"You have the keys. I won't wait up for you" Wonshik says as he waves the two lovebirds out of his café.

"Think about what I said" Taekwoon says to Wonshik as they leave. He puts his hand on Hongbin's back and gently guides him through the crowd. Wonshik watches the two till they disappear from his line of sight and goes back to cleaning.

Taekwoon has left the book on the grand piano and Wonshik picks it up, reading the page bookmarked as he does.

"À vaillant coeur rien d’impossible (For a valiant heart nothing is impossible.)”

---

Wonshik feels mildly insane as he steps off the train. Berlin is much colder than Paris and there are dark clouds overhead. This is a bad omen, Wonshik thinks. He's in Berlin and he has left Chiwoong in charge and Taekwoon and Hongbin are alone and he doesn't even know if Jaehwan is still in Berlin or has decided to go back to Milan or to Amboise for Christmas.

He holds onto his phone like it is his lifeline. The messages from Taekwoon carrying Jaehwan's current address are on it and he shows it to the taxi driver as he tries to explain where he wants to go in broken tourist-y German.

It's a short drive to the apartment complex and Wonshik gets out, feeling even more anxious than when he got on. Does his hair looks alright? Is this ensemble okay? Should he have spent more time putting something together instead of throwing on whatever was not in the laundry basket? Jaehwan likes to dress well and here Wonshik is, in his warmest pair of jeans and hoodie, looking like a frumpy college kid.

He is momentarily distracted by the snowfall that starts. It is late evening and the sun has set, colouring the sky dark indigo. It's a beautiful neighborhood Wonshik thinks as he find the building he is looking for. Hongbin texts him to ask if is in Berlin yet and if he has met Jaehwan and Wonshik replies in the negative. He's in the building and almost on the floor he needs to be on but his nerves are getting to him.

He decides to bite the bullet and call Jaehwan when he finally manages to find the apartment. In retrospect, he should probably have called much earlier to find out if Jaehwan is at home or not. But it looks like today isn't the day for wise decisions on his part.

"Wonshik? This is a surprise" Jaehwan says as soon as he picks up.

"Yeah" Wonshik lies. "It's Christmas Eve and I thought I should wish you in person."

"Bless your soul. I just had the longest and most terrible day and just listening to your voice has already made me feel loads better" Jaehwan tells him. "You won't believe what happened at the head office today!"

"Are you back home?" Wonshik asks as naturally as he can.

"Yeah, just came back a while ago. I was about to jump into the shower and then call you myself" Jaehwan replies happily.

"You don't think you could let me in before you go take your shower? It's really freezing in the hallway" Wonshik says. There is dead silence on the other end and rushed footsteps and the door in front of him opens to reveal Jaehwan, staring at him in pure disbelief.

"It really is you" Jaehwan says as he steps out into the hallway and hugs Wonshik.

"Surprise" Wonshik says, hugging Jaehwan back. All his previous worries melt away and he feels quite foolish for doubting his decision to visit.

"I don't even… How did… What made you think about coming here?" Jaehwan asks, pulling him inside.

The apartment is warm and Wonshik feels his body relax. The windows in the living room are large and have the view of the street next to the complex, decorated with red and green lights. The night has set in properly and the lights look prettier. The street is covered in the falling snow, adding an outline of white to the fixtures on the street.

"I just thought it would be nice to visit you so I took the train here" Wonshik confesses.

"I see" Jaehwan says, turning a pretty shade of light pink. His eyes wrinkle as he smiles and he looks lovelier than Wonshik remembers.

"Also, I really missed you" Wonshik says. He's travelled miles. What's a few steps more towards the person he has come to love?

"I missed you too" Jaehwan says, putting his hand on Wonshik's chest. He leans forward and places a chaste kiss on Wonshik's lips.

He pulls away but Wonshik chases his lips with a kiss of his own. Before too long, Jaehwan's hands are around Wonshik's waist and Wonshik's hands are in his hair and they are kissing deeply.

Jaehwan hoists him onto the back of the nearby couch and Wonshik wraps his legs around his and kisses him some more. This is a daydream Jaehwan never wants to wake from. Wonshik is real and warm and here and not far away from him.

"Merry Christmas" Wonshik adds when they pull away from each other and Jaehwan laughs. He lays his head on Wonshik's shoulder and sighs. Wonshik thinks he might burst from the intense rush of love and protective feelings.

He manages to pull Jaehwan into a close hug and wonders how he will ever manage to part from him ever again.

In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.

- Albert Camus

#series: seasons and love #vixx fanfiction #vixx ravi #vixx ken #raken

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awhilesince · 4 years

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Thursday, 11 February 1830

9 3/4

1 1/4

Dr Tupper called as he often does on my aunt at this time of morning – went in to thank him for his book – at 10 3/4 – He had just been telling my aunt that it was in the papers this morning that Lord Graves had cut his throat – my aunt shocked – said I had never mentioned the thing to her at all – should have been if it could have been hushed up – there were private circumstances which aggravated the case – Poor Lord G– (Graves)! at the time he was so ably but quietly advocating the duke’s cause to me at Aix la Chapelle and Brussels, the duke was heaping on him the deadliest injury! – But as Dr T– (Tupper) observed this will only make him more unpopular than ever – said it was odd I had not heard from Mrs Barlow – It seems she wrote to Mr Delisle from Nice – hoped to see Dr T– (Tupper) – some evening soon, saying he knew Captain and Mrs Droz – must ask them all –

breakfast over at 11 20/60 – wrote the above of today – read over my letter written last night to IN (Isabella Norcliffe) – chit chat – mentioned having received at Laffittes 287/. for her stays earrings and Mrs James Dalton’s veil – speak handsomely of the Poore’s – think him

“very gentlemanly and does not give me at all the idea of being guilty of intentional rudeness to anyone – there must have been some mistake about his not speaking to you in Bath – I certainly did happen to meet them at our ambassador’s; but as it happened to be at the ball, and not at one of the more private soirées, to all of which however, Lady S– (Stuart) de R– (Rothesay) had been good enough to invite me, I cannot fancy there was to be attributed to the men local of our meeting any such influence as you imagine – I think Lady P– (Poore) a very nice person –

she had been remarkably civil to me even tho I have not yet told her she was inquired about in a letter I had the other day from a person whose remembrance tho slight she would probably not dislike I mean Miss Hobart Miss MacLeans niece Lord Buckinghamshires ssister there is all the finery that I have written conclude with love to all

“and tell them I am determined that, by hook or by crook, I will not be forgotten” – …. good night my dearest Sibbella – Ever very faithfully and affectionately yours AL– Anne Lister”

speak of Mrs James Dalton 3 times and always in the letter as aunt Maria – at 12 5/60 off to Captain Hall’s – the honourable Captain de Rous there RN– (Royal Navy) and his friend Captain commander R.N. (Royal Navy), Langford – the former had been buying, Quai Voltaire he said between the Pont des Arts, and neuf, some little etchings which he believed to be Rembrandt’s – has 6 of them – had given 2 francs for one of them – they were worth 10/. a piece – he is collector – quite understands Rembrandt’s etchings – a thickish 8vo (octavo) published describing them all – both the 2 RN–s (Royal Navys) gentlemanly – they went away about 1 1/2 – I unluckily asked Captain H– (Hall) to sketch me as he had done Captain L– (Langford) sat 3 times without intermission from 1 40/60 to 2 1/2 for 3 miserable attempts no more like me than like Captain H– (Hall) himself – of course, I said all I could for them – that there was the character of myself etc. etc. tired of death of so wasting my time, but said it with good grace; for after the 1st attempt, he said he got quite into the thing and wished me to sit again –

home at 2 3/4 – wrote the last 8 lines – said I thought I should not go to the ball in fact I have no one to go with would not ask the Halls to go with them they would rather be entoures by Lady Hislop etc. than me and I should never think of the Halls but in dire necessity – I care not for the ball but shall be glad to have a companion by and by – 1/4 hour nap in my chair till 4 – my day, how wasted! Dressing – dawdling over 1 thing or other – Forest to have come at 4 3/4 – not come at 5, so sent for the coiffeur that live’s Monsieur Senés house place neuve de la Madeleine no 2 –

got to the Pringles (Hotel du Mont Blanc rue de la paix no 25) at 6 – a Mrs Alexander and Miss Hill there – by and by came the 2 Misses Pringle, then the bride and bridegroom Mr and Mrs P– Pringle – sat down and dinner (12) at 6 50/60 – 3 silver covered dishes each – only one soup I think, and at the bottom – this removed and soles top and a large “truite saumonée” salmon trout at the bottom – these were removed and nothing replaced them – the side dishes which had waited all this time were of course quite cold – there were petits patés, and lamb cotelettes, and a large standing pie like, looking paté called a volauvent, and a piled up in steps dish like a hash of calve’s head the large pieces of tongue forming a prominent part, and a mould of something like savoury jelly or brawn, and I did not see the other thing – Bordeaux, Sauterne, and champagne white and red – waited a long time after the fish was removed – the host and hostess not asking anybody to have anything and the servants not handing things round – at these was a partial attempt at the latter and Mr P– (Pringle) invited all to have volauvent the dish that was misplaced and brought to him to serve – waited for the 2nd course – Dindon aux Truffes top, a large dish full (6 or 8, woodcocks bottom – 2 jellies (reddish) and yellow à l’ordinaire) each side middle and all 4 corners vegetables – stewed celery, Brussels sprouts, Epinards, and something else – pommes de terre à la maître d’hotel for they were handing round and Mr P– (Pringle) ate them with his woodcock – at Dessert the 2 jellies removed – a cream top and ice bottom (but somehow before the ice came Mr P– (Pringle) had a Charlotte Russe of which I ate – not good –) – and apples and sweet biscuits and gateaux etc. for dessert – an expensive, cold, not good dinner – but everbody talked and played the agreeable and all went off well – Mrs P– (Pringle) tho’ sat inanimate – seeming to make no play neither as to conversation nor anything else – a fine woman with lately a heat in her face that appears to spoil beauty – she seems quiet, and amiable, but not to have much in her – it was about 9 when we left table – Mr and Mrs and the 2 Misses P– (Pringle), Captain and Mrs and Miss Hall, Mrs Alexander, Miss Hill and Lord St. Clare or Sinclair, and Mr Ogelvie Sir something Ogelvie’s son obliged to come home on leave of absence from India on account of his health and myself = 12 – a soirée after dinner – ladies to the amount of 24 or 25 and a few gentlemen altogether about 30 – filled the salon sufficiently – the P–s (Pringles) going tomorrow morning at 11 –expressed all civil regrets – talked to a Mrs Gowan, and Lord Sinclair, and the Halls, and much to Mr P– (Pringle) and his sister – their mother 2nd cousin to Lady Hardwick, and young Mrs P– (Pringle) cousin of some sort to Lady S– (Stuart) de R– (Rothesay) Mr P–‘s (Pringle’s) father that I used to know at Mr Duffin’s died in 1827 – his place 5 miles from Selkirk, 4 miles from Abbotsford and Sir Walter Scott – Mr P– (Pringle) hoped to see me there – would shew me all the lions – the Misses P– (Pringle) and their mother have bought a house 46 Charlotte square Edinborough and hope to see me – beg me to consider it a home they fancied me quite an old acquaintance – talked a little to Mrs P– Pringle at the end of the evening – seemingly a very quiet, good person – all the party came away about the same time – home at 11 –��

note of invitation to dine at the embassy tomorrow – the servant who brought the note wanted an immediate answer, but impossible as I was gone out to dinner – wrote and sent George immediately with the following

“Miss Lister se fera l’honneur de diner chez l’ambassadeur d’angleterre et Lady Stuart de Rothesay vendredi prochain 12 Fevrier à six heures et demie”

directed “the Lady Stuart de Rothesay” –

sat talking to my aunt 1/2 hour and came to my room at 11 40/60 – spoke to Cameron about its being indispensable for me to have someone to dress my hair – should be glad if she could manage it and suit me – if not it would be no fault on her part as I was quite sure she always did the best she could –, and I was with Mrs Lawton and Mrs Belcombe and her family do the best I could to get her a place – the man thus waiting said she would require perhaps 15 less at 3/. each and 25 or 30 sols for a person of whose to make a block for practising on – she must consider whether she would be at this expense – of course, I could not pay for her learning her business, but would raise her wages if she could dress my hair, and suit me better –

thinking much of being asked to dine at the embassy thankful to god for all his blessings and praying that I might never on any occasion forget my gratitude to the author of all good my first impression was to kneel down and be thankful oh that I may always think first to thank god for all his blessings –

while dressing this afternoon came note from Mr Lindley enclosing letter 2 3/4 pages from Miss MacLean to introduce this Mr Lindley (Augustus Frederick)

“a very particular friend of my aunt Machan’s who has requested me to introduce Mr Lindley to you – he is grandson of the Lady Elizabeth Murray who was daughter to the duke of Athole, so that he is cousin to the present duke – my aunt mentions that he is intimately acquainted with president Polignac – and perhaps you can tell him the best mode of introduction to Lord and Lady Stuart de Rothesay but as my aunt also says he is going to Paris expressively to visit the Royal family – I should think his introduction sufficient – he will tell you how I look – I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance yesterday being the 1st day I ever saw him”

…..!!! I immediately wrote a note back by his servant to say I was sorry I was not at home yesterday but should be at home any time between 12 and 2 today and should be glad to see him – he said in his note he should be glad to call any Time I would appoint – his note dated “Hotel de Lille et d’Albion“ – after undressing sat musing a little – Dr T– (Tupper) said this morning Fahrenheit had been at 31° Fahrenheit out my window at 36 at 10 a.m. and about 31° I think on coming to my room tonight –

left margin: Miss MacL–‘s (Maclean’s) letter Saturday the 3rd instant ”Mrs Lawton sat for some time with me on Monday – I never saw her looking so well, so fat, and rosy – and the picture of happiness so cheerful – she talks of paying you a visit soon” !!!

(SH:7/ML/E/12/0162) (SH:7/ML/E/12/0163)

#annelistercodebreaker #annelister #paris #1830 #paris february 1830

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sarahlwlee · 4 years

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31 Stories in 31 Days: Food

What is this? As part of celebrating Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month (May), I am writing a story a day about my experiences as a Chinese Malaysian immigrant in America. My friends and family have provided numerous one-word prompts to help me create these stories. Today’s word prompt was contributed by Kim O. and the word is “Food”. Thank you Kim for your contribution and thank you everyone who stopped by to read my story today.

When I came to Kalamazoo for college in the fall, I made sure to pack a small cylinder porcelain pot with beautiful blue and pink flower imprints in my suitcase. It was the one piece of home I really wanted with me because I wanted to cook all those delicious soups my mom made, even the Chinese herbal tonic soups she made for me every month to ensure my body was balanced after my monthly period. This porcelain pot contained many of those soups that I had learned to make and was eager to put those skills to use during the winter months when I came to America.

I lived in a suite for four in a dorm on college campus. A suite meant two rooms sharing access to one bathroom, with two people per room. My roommate and suite mates were white women who were sophomores in elementary education major and at the time had not traveled anywhere beyond Kalamazoo. Many of them came from smaller towns around Kalamazoo such as Bangor and this was their first time in a “big city.” Living with a roommate presented a lot of challenges. We didn’t see eye to eye on how our room should be set up nor ground rules about being considerate when someone was sleeping.

The day she moved in, I didn’t know she was arriving. I had made plans that day to attend an international students gathering on campus. So I met her at a glance to say hi to her and her parents, and said I’ll check-in with her when I get back. After the gathering, I came back to the room completely overhauled. Before she moved in, I had set up my desk, bed and laptop the way I liked it and near the window. When I returned, my bed had become a bunk bed and I had the bottom bunk which had a sagging metal bar above my head. My computer and wires were pulled out from the wall and laid in disarray on my desk. Her parents had moved my desk to face the wall away from the window to make space for an oversized loveseat, a microwave that sat on top of a small refrigerator and a television on her dresser that was the same level as her top bunk.

I was really angry when I saw the layout of the room and how the space was built to suit her. As a young college kid, trying to navigate a new environment, a full class schedule and attempting to make friends, I did my best in that moment to brush this frustration off and accept what she had done to the room. After all she did allow me to use the microwave, refrigerator, loveseat and television at any time. Over the weeks, I noticed she liked watching television late into the night and dozing off to sleep with the television still on. I had morning classes at 8am and this routine started to get old because I wasn’t getting a full night’s sleep with the bright light emitting from the television and the low hum of the television’s white noise.

One night, without my knowledge, she had invited a boy to sleep in her bed in our room. She did not inform me about his stay and I was more so shocked when I woke up in the morning to find a guy brushing his teeth in our bathroom. I learned that this boy wasn’t even her boyfriend, but a guy involved in a triangle tryst she was trying to win over in competition with a girl named Amber, whom she had gone to high school with. Once again, I brushed this overwhelming frustration off and let this incident go because I didn’t want to get into argument with her.

As winter drew near, I decided to bring out my porcelain pot along with the herbal tonic spices that my mother had mailed to me and make the soup in my little rice cooker I had just purchased from Meijer. Cafeteria food started to wane on me and I was beginning to lose my appetite because I started to fall sick. I knew the tonic soup would cure my bodily ailments and also have a little taste of home. I gathered the ingredients into the rice cooker with a good amount of water, press the button to start and the cooking process began. The fragrance of the soup started to fill the air and I was eager to let my fellow Malaysian friend, Pei, who lived in the same dorm at the end of the hall, know that I was making this amazing soup. So I walked down to her room to let her know and she was just as ecstatic. She walked with me back to my room only to hear a lot of yelling from my room. More specifically what I heard, “What is that smell??” “Did something die in here?” I was worried something was wrong with our bathroom because we had been experiencing some plumbing issues.

When we entered my room, I noticed my suite mate was walking around my room tracing the source of the smell to my rice cooker. She turned to me and asked, “What is this?” I replied, “It’s a Chinese herbal soup from home.” My roommate walked in from my suite mates’ room holding her nose gasping for air, “You can’t be cooking this crap in our room. It stinks like hell and you need to take this outside. What made you think you could do this?” I responded to her, “I’m so sorry, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. It won’t happen again.” In my head I was furious for all the times she had microwave broccoli Mac and Cheese and ridiculous food smells would linger in the room every time she used the microwave and I had never complained about it. I didn’t have the energy to argue with my roommate and I just brushed it off. Pei helped me pick up my rice cooker, while I grabbed my utensils as well as other ingredients and moved it to the common area kitchen located one floor down. I ate my soup in silence that night in the cold common area kitchen. Pei went back to her room because her mom started to call her cellphone. I cried while I ate each spoonful of the soup, not only because I missed home but how miserable I felt living in this dorm room with people who were not interested in me as a person. Never had I felt so rejected and hurt by this experience.

Later one of my friends from the international students group mentioned they wanted to move out of the dorms and find an apartment off-campus. I was desperate to get out of the dorm and teamed up with different people to find an apartment. I broke my dorm lease (an 8-month contract) after a semester (4 months) and moved out to a two-bedroom spacious apartment with one of my friends, Charlize, from Malaysia. I was so excited for this new venture and hoped that I would find more reprieve in a room of my own with a friend I trusted.

What I didn’t realize was my new apartment mate did not like anything to do with Chinese and Malaysians, even though she was a Chinese Malaysian. She embraced all things related to American culture including how she talked, what she ate, how she dressed and who she dated. When I talked about making rice or learning to cook some Chinese dishes that reminded me of home, she would suggest something else like ordering pizza delivery or microwaved frozen salmon. The bare minimum Asian thing she would eat was the cheap ramen packets we bought from Meijer. Charlize was my only friend on campus and the only counsel I trusted when we were living together. During our time together, she advised me to leave all things Chinese and Malaysian behind because it was holding me back from making friends, especially boys. She hated when I would my pen behind my ear and told me to stop doing that if I wanted to seem cooler and more appealing to American boys.

With her constant nagging of my appearance and behavior, I started to abandon attempts in cooking Chinese or Malaysian food and made food that she liked only. In addition I did a lot of stupid things to my hair and wardrobe that I regretted. Even my accent disappeared because I wanted to match the American accent so desperately just so I could hang out with Charlize’s friends. She never invited me to hang out with her American friends because I was an embarrassment and her fraternity/sorority friends did not like foreigners. Of course I was puzzled because she was a foreigner too. However all the physical changes she did to herself made her pass for what some people might say “almost white.”

Charlize moved out after living with me for five months. She had applied for a college transfer to New York and had planned on this all along without telling me in advance. When she left, I was stuck with the apartment lease as the sole tenant and it was summer. One of the hardest times of the year to find a roommate. That year, I picked up my first job on campus as a Western Herald staff writer for the Arts & Entertainment section to help pay my bills and make ends meet. I took every writing assignment that was available even the one’s that nobody was interested in doing, regardless of tight deadlines or extra research it required.

Today I am so proud of the food I am able to cook and I am not eager on becoming more white. I happy to be me, a Chinese Malaysian immigrant living in America. My recipe repertoire has grown from oven baked nuggets and ramen to Malaysian cuisine such as nasi lemak, chicken curry, pork dumplings and so much more. In fact, I have learned a lot about Italian cuisine through working with Chef John Korycki at Zazios and a variety of cultural cuisines through YouTube cooking channels. My learning lesson from this reflection is always be an active participant in your own decisions, otherwise someone else will make them for you and you will not like it. This aptly applies to many of the conflicts described here. If I had actively engaged in what displeased me, I would and should have expressed my frustration as tactfully as I could to achieve some form of resolution. I didn’t know how important this was until later in my working life — how conflict management and being an active participant is important in reaching a resolution.

Never again will I brush off my gut instinct and I will be bold to express my thoughts and feelings because I am my own best advocate of me.

#aapi #aapiheritagemonth #aapihm #chinese #food #immigrant #collegelife #growingpains

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