#also people always say they want two entree meals and then i fill up one entree and wait for them to tell me the second one

[stairset]

Customers are so stupid. A lady walked up to me with a bucket of KFC chicken and asked if she could pay me for it. I work in the Chinese department.

#i mean even if u do buy chinese u still don't pay me unless u wanna tip me cause there's a specific spot for paying i just serve it up #but that's besides the point the point is my name tag literally says asian clerk on it #and i know u didn't misinterpret that as clerk who happens to be asian cause i'm white #also people always say they want two entree meals and then i fill up one entree and wait for them to tell me the second one #and they're like ''no i want the same thing for both entrees'' well then that's a one entree meal dummy #shut up tristan

[infinites-chaser]

Librarian! PH. 52 MLQC MC / Victor :)

HELLO ANON U WERE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE TO RESPOND TO MY LIBRARIAN ASK GAME I’M SO SORRY IT’S TAKEN SO LONG,,, victor is just. hard to write. aLSO I'm doubly sorry since i’ll be combining this with the Victor ask from @truth-be-told-im-lying ​ hope neither of you mind T-T i don’t think my mind could do two victor ficlets akwlfjsdkls

ANyway I love you both LOTS AND LOTS hopefully this attempt at Victor isn’t extremely out of character;;; it’s a lowkey soulmates AU if that counts for anything :> aND this fic gets the special treatment of an actual Title bc True was wonderful enough to help me by typing Victor as an Enneagram Type One

okaaay and without further ado, 

49, 52 + Victor/MC

‘[He] wakes up in [his] bed, determined to begin again.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 49)

‘As [he] pushes through the onlookers to meet [her], he is certain he is the only person moving.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 52)

((pronoun changes in both quotes to better fit the ficlet))

spoilers for Victor/MC’s childhood!

spend my whole life searching

Victor doesn’t believe in soulmates. (After half a lifetime of searching turning up nothing, he doesn’t believe in much.)

Once upon a time, he might’ve. (He wanted to). His heart rate doubled and sped up to match hers— a carefree little girl skipping across the road, too far away to hear his nerves cry danger, too caught up in dreams and fantasies to hear his warning shout. Time slowed down so he could save her, and on that afternoon on the crosswalk, drops of rain suspended in the air, he did.

At that age, he hadn’t had the sense to wonder why a young girl like her had been crossing the street without supervision. Why her smiles had come freely, but had always looked a little sad, a little wistful. Why she’d been so eager to accept his baked treats. Why she’d been at the playground without a parent. Why she’d always been alone.

Now, seventeen years later, he wishes he did. Wishes he’d known something as simple as her last name.

He dreams of her. Of finding her again: the girl whose heartbeat matched his. The girl whose smile had slowed down time itself for him, as if short moments with her could’ve each stretched into a gentle eternity. He’d wanted them to. He’d wanted to capture every moment spent with her, to make them last, to savor them, so they’d pass slow and sweet like honey on the tongue.

Time had passed slow when he’d wanted it to. Those sunlit afternoons had been sweet, they’d been happy.

Only, time is a fickle thing. When he takes his eye off it, it races away, too fast for him to keep up.

The kidnapping. The experiments. The torture.

The escape.

She saves him. He’s too slow to save her.

And even if he can stop time, here’s the thing: he can never turn the clock back.

Still, he wakes up. Every morning, he gets out of bed. Gets dressed and goes to work. The world around him moves on, and demands he does, too, even if his heart’s still eleven years old and clutching her motionless body, eleven years old, the only sound in his ears his pounding pulse, the absence of the accompaniment of hers an accusation more painful than any hateful words.

It’s a recurring theme in his life, time. It’s ironic, really, when he thinks about it. That he can stop time without lifting a finger, and yet, when it comes to things he cares about, people he loves most, he’s always eleven years old again, always too late.

(His Evol’s time control, but perhaps, all this time, he hasn’t been controlling time, it’s been controlling him. He’s imprisoned by a single moment, a memory, a regret. A past that can never be undone.)

Whenever he has spare time, he devotes himself to searching. Resigns himself to the fact he’ll probably never find her, if all he has to go off of is a child’s face, once preserved in his memory, now fading. Hair color. Eye color. Age. A name. Nothing more.

The searches turn up nothing. 

He spends late nights in the office to distract himself, builds up a capitalist kingdom of a company, if only to put off for a few hours more the prospect of returning home to face his nightmares alone.

His father praises him for LFG’s growth over dinners filled with awkward silences. The name Victor Li appears more and more often in business newspapers. Investors approach him. He gets interviews. Gets offers for TV appearances, for sponsorships.

He takes them, these material successes. Wonders if any amount of them could ever make up for the failure from his childhood. If they could bring her back. He tells himself if he finds her, when he finds her, when he brings her back, it’ll be to a more perfect world. One in which he’ll never fail her again. It’s a foolish thought, but it keeps him going. With it in mind, he proceeds to work twice as hard.

Souvenir is what saves him. A small allowance, a self-indulgence, a seed of hope planted in what he thinks is his darkest time.

It’s for her, more than any of his frantic searching ever was. A dream, a foolish one, that one day she’ll step through his memories and through the restaurant’s door, that one day they’ll share a pudding together again, their hearts beating as one.

He doesn’t get to open Souvenir often; his job doesn't let him. He made sure of that, long ago. But when he does, after the last customer’s left, and he’s put up the closed sign, he cooks for two.

(The first time, Mr. Mills had taken a single look at his silent, still face, and his expression must've spoken volumes. The older man hadn't said a word, only helped clean the kitchen after, the normally gentle lines around his mouth pulled taut in a worried frown.)

He sets the second place at the table himself: carefully places fork, knife and spoon beside lukewarm appetizers, tucks a napkin under soup bowls going cold. Watches the empty seat and the untouched meal for an eternity before finally eating his own. His technique's impeccable. It has been ever since he'd aced his culinary lessons, since he'd bought out the school. He'd used the finest ingredients. He always does.

The food still crumbles like ash in his mouth. (It always does.)

Mr. Mills will find him there, nursing a glass of wine long into the night. He knows better not to question it, but sometimes he'll pull up a chair, drink a glass, too. talk of everything and nothing, talk of his parents, his sister's family, of times gone by.

Victor will never admit it, but the older man's presence makes those nights less hard. his stories, his memories — they keep the ice in his heart from spreading any further when it feels like nothing else will.

Ten years stretch into thirteen, into fourteen, into fifteen, into a broken clock, time stopped because does the passage of time mean anything if he measures it, measured it in time with her? If she's gone?

The meals shrink. First appetizers vanish, then entrees too, until all that's left are desserts, puddings that he stares at all evening, puddings a girl had loved once, that he can almost imagine her sitting there eating, her noticing him watching her and her answering blush and smile. His smile back.

Almost, because after all these years without her, he can’t quite imagine her face. Not as she would look now. Not even as she was, seventeen years back.

(He dreams and finds he doesn’t remember what her smile looked like, exactly. Doesn’t remember the sound of her heartbeat mingling with the sound of his.

Memory is cruel. Memory is imperfect. No matter if you can stop time, no matter how hard you try to memorize a moment, when you revisit it, it’ll never be the same as when you lived it the first time.)

Then:

The day starts like any other. He wakes up, gets out of bed, gets ready for another day of work, another night of searching. He scrolls emails while waiting for his espresso machine to heat, then puts his tablet aside when the coffee's done. He eats in silence. As always, he's done five minutes before he needs to leave for the company, the perfect amount of time for him to do a last-minute check in the mirror— his tie's straight, his shirt unwrinkled, not a hair on his head out of place. The reflection that stares back at him is unchanging; these days it barely shows even the passage of time.

He sighs. Shakes the thought off like the piece of lint it is on his otherwise immaculate state of being, and heads for the door, the lock automatically clicking behind him at eight o'clock am, exactly on schedule, exactly as planned.

He's about to take a seat in his car when an inexplicable urge to walk to work takes hold of him. He pauses. Calculates and re-calculates the time it would take (fifteen minutes, not accounting for rush hour traffic making crosswalks slow), and he's about to decide it's not worth it, it's a silly thought, but the urge intensifies.

Do it, the eleven-year-old in his heart seems to be telling him. You won't regret it.

He frowns and rubs his forehead— for a moment, he wonders if all his searching, all his foolish hopes are finally getting to his brain.

He decides to take the walk, anyway.

He regrets it, not nine minutes later, when despite the sun's light shining strong through the clouds, a light rain begins to fall.

Worse still, the traffic lights haven't changed once in the past ninety seconds. He won't be late, he'd accounted for this, but he's stuck in a crowd of pedestrians, and their chatter's beginning to grate on his nerves. He's considering calling the mayor about it after exactly one hundred seconds have passed— clearly, the light's broken, this is far too long for commuters to wait— but then, finally the walk sign flicks on.

He's already across the street when it happens:

First, a phone rings.

Then, the loud honking of a car.

Tires screech.

Time slows. Time stops.

He's back on the crosswalk in a matter of heartbeats, the inattentive idiot in his arms (it's a girl, it's always a girl, hair dark, eyes wide, expression shocked).

"You..." She says, blinking up at him with those wide, almost-familiar eyes. Distantly, he registers the echo of a heartbeat overlapping with his.

"Who are you?"

Who are you? His mind asks, but deep in his heart, he already knows the answer. It can't be.

"Evolver?" He says instead, shoving down memories that threaten to surface: another rainy day, another crosswalk, another heart that had seemed matched to his. He tells himself he's being delusional, that he thinks he can hear her heartbeat because she's in his arms, wide-eyed and fragile, her heartrate skittering back and forth like a fool— this isn't like his careful, methodical searching, this is a fluke beyond flukes, it means nothing, it'll lead to nothing in the end.

But she's in his arms, warm and soft against his protective embrace, she's in his arms and it feels so right it's almost painful, his pulse pulled into a panicked pace to match hers.

He sets her down abruptly, as if burned, and turns to go.

"Someone can't come to your rescue every time."

Around them, suspended raindrops begin to fall. The world, resumed. The world, once again predictable and mundane. Except for her.

He knows, without looking back, she's staring after him, her heart, his heart, still racing.

He allows himself a smile.

He allows himself some small sliver of hope.

(His frozen time starts moving again.)

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #val writes #hNnghghg this took so Long and writing vic gives me so much stress BUT HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY #u didnt hear it from me but it was actually really interesting to explore his character like this and. i've definitely developed more of an #appreciation :> of sorts #victor is an enneagram one and rly that's all that matters thats all u need to learn from this fic #also sOULmate AUs i love them that's it does this mean i think vic is MC's soulmate;;; maybe in this universe but not generally ailsjkfd #JUST FOR THE RECORD. i am not a vic stan so it must be said #TIL that mr mills does not have a wife/family and that makes me rly sad

[docholligay]

Chinese Food in The American West

One of the things I frequently come across as a student of the American West* is that people get most of their information from movies and TV and then act like they know things. Wyatt Earp was not a Lawful Good champion who always did his level best even when it was hard to know. (You want Seth Bullock or Bass Reeves). Racism was far more complicated than white vs not white (I’ve talked about this EXTENSIVELY in Strange Empire, so I’m not going to bore you here**). 

And they didn’t just eat steak. In fact, they rarely ate steak. 

Steak as cowboy food isn’t INACCURATE, but it is MODERN. From about the early 1900s on, you had less and less drives and more and more ranchers who were staying put, with less and less hands needed, and so food was grabbed less “on the go.” Cows could be slaughtered and used to feed the family, allowing for more opportunities for things like steak, yes, but also things like chili, a play on sauerbraten, southern-style biscuits. The cattle drives were a real blend of culture and race, and a lot of what we have left as “Western food” owes a great deal to that. 

And if we leave the cattle drives and head into the towns of the American West, as we will today, we find things like oysters, pies, and various things like that. Far more well-heeled than the general expectation. 

I mean, here’s the menu from the Occidental Saloon circa the late 1880s:

Soups

Chicken Giblet and Consumme, with Egg

Fish

Columbia River Salmon, au Beurre Noir

Relieves

Filet a Boeuf, a la Financier

Leg of Lamb, Sauce, Oysters

Cold Meats

Loin of Beef, Loin of Ham, Loin of Pork, Westphalia Ham, Corned Beef, Imported Lunches

Boiled Meats

Leg of Mutton, Ribs of Beef, Corned Beef and Cabbage, Russian River Bacon

Entrees

Pinons a Poulett, aux Champignons

Cream Fricasse of Chicken, Asparagus Points

Lapine Domestique, a la Matire d'Hote

Casserole d'Ritz aux Oeufs, a la Chinoise

Ducks of Mutton, Braze, with Chipoluta Ragout

California Fresh Peach, a la Conde

Roasts

Loin of Beef, Loin of Mutton, Leg of Pork

Apple Sauce, Suckling Pig, with Jelly, Chicken Stuffed Veal

Pastry

Peach, Apple, Plum, and Custard Pies

English Plum Pudding, Hard Sauce, Lemon Flavor

This dinner will be served for 50 cents.

-I got this from the book “Saloons of the Old West” by Erdoes

But none of that is precisely why I’m here, I just can’t stop myself from talking about this, why I’m here is that one of the things I say that often surprises people, is that Chinese food was incredibly common for the, well, common man to eat. There’s very much a conception that we as a non-Chinese American  people did not start eating Chinese food until the 40s and 50s, and its truer that it took longer to catch on in the American East than the West simply as a matter of proximity and choice. 

Not MORE choice but LESS. Part of what made the West so unique, historically, is that the lack of choice and the basic scarcity caused people to work with and patronize people that their general prejudices would have kept them from using back east, because they had CHOICES. But out in the west, less so. There were few choices for a quick, cheap meal on the go. That dinner I just posted above is a lavish affair, and a great deal at approximately $20.00 in today’s money. (Which does not allow for the fact that cost of supplies has gone up and this dinner would most likely be offered for no less than 70 or so today.) 

People desperately wanted something that was cheap and quick, and the other options in the American West were few, far between, and not intensely pleasing. No one had really come up with the sandwich shop as of yet, and in any case, fresh meats and cheeses would have been too difficult for the low-cost supplier. 

ENTER THE CHINESE POPULATION.

If you have read my Strange Empire blogs, I hope you know that Chinese people were a huge presence in the American West, mostly working for the railroad and various mines, but also doing things like laundry, work that was extremely hard but took little in the way of English speaking. They existed in Chinatowns, for a combination of cultural and legal factors, but it’s a misconception that non-Chinese*** people never went to Chinatown. 

People are not new, and it was not unusual for non-Chinese people to use the laundries, tailoring, and other services of Chinatowns while suppressing the rights of Chinese people int he same breath. There were always individual Chinese people any given non-Chinese person liked and did business with. 

In time, they discovered the inherent wisdom of the noodle bowl. 

I don’t mean to suggest that all these early restaurants served was noodle bowls, but that was where it all started. Remember, Italian food had little prominence in America at the this time, as Italian immigration didn’t really get into full swing until the 1870s in America. While there are noodle traditions half of everywhere, and there is nothing new under the sun, what we today would consider a stir-fry bowl was wildly new to most of the non-Chinese folks in the West. That it could be offered up so cheaply, was so filling, and so delicious (more on this later) was a wild revelation. Everyone from simple cowboys (which, fun fact! Was a slur back then!) to mayors were swinging by Chinatowns to try the dishes. 

By the 1920s, chop suey, a fully Chinese American invention derived from the words for “various leftovers” was a hugely popular American food among all sorts. 

Doc, you may ask, was it just that these folks coming through to get medicines or laundry were SO adventurous? Not at all! Chinese restaurants back then actually, in a very short amount of time, realized that their non-Chinese townsfolk were an excellent way to make money as well, and began to adapt and change dishes to better fit the Western palate, leading what we call American Chinese Food today, which is a legitimate foodway I will defend to my death. Unfortunately, none of these menus survive today--the only ones we have are from places in San Francisco, places that were much more posh, and not the subject of this essay. 

There is a scene in Tombstone where Wyatt and his brothers are eating Chinese food, and it’s one of the things people often ask me about, assuming it’s anachronistic. Actually, it isn’t at all--the anachronism is that there’s broccoli in those noodle bowls, which had not yet hit our shores by the time of the OK Corral. Chinese food was a huge hit, Chinese restaurants were doing extremely well, and some Chinese restaurants were even beginning to attempt to print menus in English, with sit down areas, instead of serving simple fare from food carts. 

As the food from these “chow chow houses” grew in popularity, as we can infer from the advertisements of their competitors promising free potatoes with every meal, and other such niceties to entice, there was, as ever there must be, blowback. Anti-Chinese sentiment grew to a fever pitch, and with this came overt pressure for ‘Good Americans” to patronize ‘American restaurants’. The social pressure is actually where we get some of that old racist jargon about Chinese people serving dogs and cats, which people often think was spread by competitors to degrade the Chinese restaurants, which isn’t UNTRUE, but was just as often said sheepishly by someone who couldn’t stop themselves from going and grabbing a noodle bowl or even the American dishes they offered, such as roast chicken or pork chop sandwiches. 

(I won’t comment with anything but an eyeroll on the bullshit of people saying they’re ~allergic to MSG~ okay I’ll believe you when you stop eating processed food, meat, aged cheese) 

It actually kept this type of reputation as being slightly scandalous well into the early 1900s, as being something you ate after the bar, something to be had in the shadows, but it was all for naught, because Chinese food became an important part of American identity. But for all that, no one ever pictures the Lone Ranger chowing down (the American phrase ‘chow’ for food actually comes from these ‘chow chow houses’) on some chop suey, but there’s every reason to believe he would have. American Chinese food is just as American as the Germanically-influenced hamburger. 

(There’s a whole subtopic to go down about Jewish and Chinese communities and Kosher Chinese Food, two marginalized and othered communities coming together, but that’s a WHOLE other topic) 

(Also someone please buy me Chinese food. This shit always makes me so hungry.) 

*The American West is a specific time period, as far as the study of history goes. It covers the period between the end of the Civil War and the New Century, generally, and is, obviously, concerned with the western half of the country. It doesn’t cover stuff like Lewis and Clark (that’s Expansion) or even the Civil War itself, though you cannot possibly hope to study the American West in any level of seriousness without understanding the Civil War. Anyway! I know a lot about America between 1865 and 1900, and am just knowledgeable enough to be dangerous on everything else. Most History nerds are highly specified like this. We’re not as much help to your trivia team as you think.****

**I actually have had little chance to talk about ~European-style xenophobia~ as it played out in the west, because Strange Empire takes a more modern pass at it. But there was a hierarchy of “whiteness” as well, as still largely exists in Europe, land of intentionally clean ethnostates. 

***I use the term “non-Chinese” instead of white because believe it or not, non-white people were not magically free of racism against Chinese people. It was horrific and BASICALLY every non-Chinese person was guilty of it to some level, a wild-ass level of hatred that led to Chinese folks not being able to PURCHASE PROPERTY BY LAW in ENTIRE STATES. Being Chinese or Native in this place and time was your Worst Bet. 

****I actually was on a competitive trivia team, you DO want me.

#That was Oddly Specific #Holligay is 34: The celebration

[keepswingin]

i want your heart to beat for me

She’s twenty-four and sings for Caleb Covington during the week, microphone clutched tightly in between her sweaty palms as she stands before an audience that’s paid to hear a beautiful voice she doesn’t want to provide.

They all wear leers, and some flash yellow teeth and tattered bills in disgusting taunts, but she does her best to ignore it all and just sing like she’s always wanted to.

(She never imagined it would be like this.)

Her voice is shaky tonight, strained in all the wrong places from singing three songs a night five times a week, and her heart is beating fast, torn between anger at the men who look at her like she’s a piece of meat on display and anxiety at disappointing Caleb for not bringing in the money he needs. Her voice is the biggest seller at his club, she knows it is, and she doesn’t want to know what happens to those who don’t sell well at all.

(She had been a hit from the moment she had walked on stage, dressed in a pretty purple dress she had pulled from her mom’s old chest, her hair curled to one side, a small butterfly pin - her good luck charm - clipped to the corner of her sleeve. Caleb had been watching from the front row, a buffet of every food you could imagine spread out on the table before him but his eyes were instead locked steadily on her, watching and waiting. 

The crowd had cheered wildly as soon as they had seen her, and she had been embrassed by the attention back then, blushling under the spotlights. Then she had met Caleb’s eyes, and he had nodded her on with a crooked smile, and she had opened her mouth and sang the best she ever had in her life.)

Tonight was different. 

She was exhuasted, and her voice was cracking on the high notes, and she barely had the energy to hold a microphone and sing, let alone jump around the stage and try and hype up the audience like she was supposed to. 

She can’t find Caleb in the crowd, and her heart jumps with joy at the thought of him not being here. Maybe she could throw tonight’s set and get away with it. Maybe she could request the rest of the week off through Willie and avoid having to talk to him at all. 

(When she had first arrived at the club, she wondered why someone as kind as Willie was working there among men and women who were so opposite to him. 

As the weeks dragged into months, she had grown closer to Willie, and realized that he was trapped there in the same way she was.)

She finishes Finally Free - irony not lost on her considering she hasn’t been free since the day she had put her life on the line for her brother - and her heart aches at the thought of him, and a faraway part of her wonders how he’s doing. She hasn’t seen him since--

“Brava, brava!” 

Caleb walks on stage, clapping his hands loudly, even though the men tonight had ceased their clapping early so that they could reach for their drinks, and Julie’s entire body tenses as the older man moves to stand next to her, his arm brushing against hers as his hand slides down to grab hers. 

Red hot fear catches in her throat as she waits for his gaze to turn to her, but instead he avoids looking at her and keeps his eyes on the audience, gauging their reaction. Some are still looking toward the stage while others have moved onto their entrees, forks dipping into fettuccine and lagansa - tonight’s special. His grip on her hand tightens, and she holds back a cry. 

He’s not happy.

She knows he isn’t happy, which means this could be the end of her tonight, because if Caleb wasn’t happy then the club wasn’t happy and if the club wasn’t happy then how would money continue to flow and if there was no money then she couldn’t pay back her brother’s debt and--

“I’m glad you all enjoyed tonight’s show,” he calls, catching the audience's attention once again. “Enjoy your meals, and if any of you would like to spare the cash for a one of a kind encore, please feel free to form a line at the stairs. Thank you!” 

He lifts the hand that holds her own high in some sort of praise, and there’s a roar of applause, and men who tumble out of their seats at the thought of Caleb’s type of ‘encore’ and Julie feels sick. 

Encores were for the acts that failed, last minute attempts for Caleb to earn some money out of a moneyless night, and if he was offering her up then that means she failed and if she failed then - then--

She doesn’t fight Caleb as he pulls her backstage, the velvet curtains closing behind them with a sense of finality. The thought of it makes her insides churn and her head pound, and another wave of nausea floods her as Caleb corners her against the wall a second later, slamming her back into solid brick.

“For someone so keen to pay off her brother’s debt, you aren’t taking your job as seriously as you should, Julie.” 

His words are as threatening as the hand he uses to keep her arms pinned above her head, his other hand pressed into a white-knucked fist at his side. His face is twisted into an angry sneer, and though threatening, his words are as calm as they always are, and that alone is enough to send chills racing up her spine.

Pain radiates from the center of her back, and panic closes around her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. She struggles for words. “I-I am, Caleb, I swear, my voice - I’m just starting to lose my voice from singing so much, and I didn’t want you to - to be disappointed if I asked for some time off and, and I-I tried my best tonight, I--”

He silences her with a look, her mouth snapping shut. And God, she hates this, hates him more than she’s ever hated anybody in her life, because she hates how much power he has over her, and contuines to hold over her, because she’s in this deep and there doesn’t seem to be any way back out. 

“You really think,” he starts, slow and deliberate, “that I’m going to belive that?” 

Before she can speak he’s squeezing her wrists hard enough that it hurts, and she bites her lip as he moves closer to her face, his eyes dark with an anger she only sees when he’s talking about his failed acts. 

“You will sing until you lose your voice, and every performance until then will be up to par, or you will never see your brother ever again. Is that understood?” 

She hates this. She hates this, she hates this, she hates this, she--

“Yes.” She says, as firmly as she can.

Caleb doesn’t smile or nod or play his violence off like it’s nothing. Instead he realeases her and takes a step back, straightening his collar. His eyes are still dark as he stares at her, and it makes her fingers shake. 

“You failed me tonight, Julie, and I’m sorry to do this to you, especially considering you are my best act in this entire place, but you will be doing as many encores as they pay for tonight and that’s--”

“I’ll take ‘em.” 

Julie startles at the familiar voice, looking over and seeing no other than Luke Patterson standing by the exit door, guitar strap slung over one shoulder. 

Caleb audibly scoffs in disbelief. “You’re going to take all her clients tonight?” 

Luke’s eyes flick from Julie’s to Caleb’s before he nods and makes his way over to them, his hand tight around the neck of his guitar. “Yeah. You’re cool with it, aren’t you?” 

Caleb sighs, obivously torn. 

Julie stares, shocked, at Luke. She doesn’t know much about him, and hasn’t interacted with him at all nearly the entire time she’s been at the club, besides a head nod if they passed each other on stage. All she knows about him is infromation from Willie and that’s that Luke has been at the club longer than he has, longer than anyone else at the club, and no one knows why. He’s also the only one who Caleb has - if you could call them at - civil conversations with. 

He doesn’t bring in as much money as he used to, but he was a good buffer to newer acts like Julie, and whatever Caleb had to keep him there with everyone else...it had to be big, for him to be stuck there for so long. 

“Of course I’m cool with it.” Caleb finally says, slapping Luke on the shoulder with a broad grin. He leans in to whisper in his ear, but Julie overhears what he says anyway. “They’ll pay more for you anyway.” 

He pulls back with a laugh, followed by an easy smile from Luke, but if Julie looks close enough, she can tell it’s fake, can see the strained edges and jagged peices. 

Caleb turns back to her, his eyes no longer as carefree as they were a second before. “You’re free to go tonight. Rest up that voice now, Julie. I expect an amazing performance two days from now.” He smiles, wide and grand, before disappearing through the curtains with the announcement of Luke Patterson’s encore offer for later tonight. 

Julie stands there, rubbing her wrists, unsure what to say to Luke. Should she thank him from saving her from something she knew she’d never be able to come back from? Apologize for allowing him to give himself up instead?

“You don’t have to say anything,” he supplies, as if he’s reading her mind. She looks up and catches his honest eyes, a different smile covering his lips now. It looks...almost happy. 

Happy to be talking to her? 

No, no. She shakes that thought from her mind. 

“I’m, I’m sorry,” she grapples for other words, “you didn’t have to do that. For me.”

He readjusts, allowing his guitar to lean against his hip. His hair is short and half-hidden under a grey beaine, he’s wearing a white tank-top that’s obviously seen better days, and weathered jeans. The strap his guitar clings to is decorated with names written in black sharpie. She’s able to read a few - Reggie, Alex, Bobby, Emily, Mitch, TJ, Tim - and he catches her staring, chuckling quietly.

“I uh, before this, I’d have people sign my guitar at my first shows. Got filled up pretty fast. Guess you could say I was a sort of teen sensation?” She can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her, and he laughs softly with her, watching the way her fingers fumble over one another. His heart falls, just a little bit. “I’m sorry. About Caleb.” 

“It’s not your fault.” She dismisses, her hands falling to her sides. 

She swears she can still see the man’s eyes in the shadows behind the speakers and old lights. Silence surrounds them for a moment, but then the crowd roars, and Caleb announces Luke’s name again, and he sighs, gesturing with his head toward the curtains. 

“Guess it’s time for my gig.” He says wryly, and she nods and moves out of the way so he can walk past her. Her eyes catch on red marks across his skin as he passes, hidden poorly behind his tank-top, and her stomach rolls.

“Wait!” she calls just before his hands touch the curtain. She turns around and walks over to him, grabbing his hand in hers. “Thank you. For saving me from...from that.”

She can feel the callouses on his fingers from picking at a guitar, and the scars that decorate his palm from his time spent in the club. He’s far too young to have scars, she thinks, but then Luke is smiling wide, and the corner of his eyes are crinkling, and Julie’s heart is soaring for some reason at the way he looks at her then.

“Anytime Molina,” he whipers, and then he’s disappearing through the curtain, and for some reason, she misses the feel of his hand in hers as soon as he’s gone. 

#jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #keepswingin writes #mine #this a human au by the way #luke is the same age as her #and that's all the information you're getting lol

[fuck-customers]

Ya'll

So I'm a server and a bartender at a chain restaurant, that most Americans have been at at least once, and who's signature greeting is also part of a very popular vine. Some tables are awesome and some are the literal fucking worst, as it i in pretty much any restaurant. Anyways I was bartending on Saturday morning (8/31) and I had a two top sit in the bar. When I go to greet them and ask for their drink order they proceed to take 10 minutes to order their drinks, because they also deiced they were "ready" to order, which means reading the menu while I'm standing there, and asked three times if I could start them off with some soft drinks or even waters while they look over the menu - which if you didn't figure out, their answer was oh no we're ready every time I asked.

I finally got their whole order, bring out their drinks and soups, and the women (it was a couple) had also ordered an alcoholic drink, so I went behind the bar, made it, and brought it out to her. She then got mad at me because she wanted it with her meal (which she didn't mention in the 10 minutes it took her to order, I know this cause I always make notes about things like that). So whatever, at this point I know I won't be tipped, so I take her drink back, and put in a cooler behind the bar to keep it cold. Once their main entrees come up, I bring those out, go back, grab her alcoholic drink, re-shake it so it looks like it's not the same one, and drop it off to her. First three times I check on them, all within 15 minutes, everything "tastes great". Then when she's halfway through with her pasta, she decides she doesn't like it, and that the chicken is "weird", I ask her if she wants something else instead, she says no, just a box. My policy, as well as the restaurant's is that if you're taking the food home after a complaint, you don't get part of that meal taken off your bill.

So, I got both of them boxes, they box everything up, ask for the check, whatever. So they got a lunch combo deal, so with two soft drinks, two soups, and two entrees as well as an alcoholic drink, their bill comes out to around $33. I drop off the check, and they study that shit like their studying to become doctors or some shit, and the guy finally waves me over, to give me his credit card, I run his credit card and bring it back to the table. That's when his girlfriend looks at me and asks why her alcoholic drink is on their bill, I say because she ordered it (obviously). And then she says, oh well I thought you were gonna buy my drink for me. I, as nicely as possibly, say no I'm not buying your drink for you, why would I do that. And she says something along the lines of, well I thought it'd be free, so you should have bought it for me. At this point I was like this lady has got me fucked up, I was like no I'm not buying your drink for you, you ordered it, and drank it, so it'll stay on your bill. I can't give away anything for free, especially alcoholic drinks, since I'm a bartender, not the owner of the restaurant, sorry if you were confused. Then i tell them to have a nice day and walk away. The guy tipped me $0.87 on their bill. 

Like yeah, fuck you, I'm not about to buy you a drink when you can't even tip me a whole dollar. Like the balls people have sometimes. I know some people would say well maybe they tipped like that cause you were rude about the drink thing, but that's not the case, the guy had filled out the receipt and signed it, just as we started the conversation, and never went back to change the tip. So they had already tipped me fucking nothing, before trying to get me to buy her a drink. Like I "buy drinks" for friends and family, and regulars that like to tip 50%, not fucking entitled, rude assholes that are needy, annoying, and don't even know how to tip at least 15%. Fuck people sometimes. 

#submissions #fuck customers #server problems #submission

[coffeecomicsgalore]

Unveiled Love

@smutember​

Ao3

Chapter 14 – Moonlight 

Six months.

Adrien had officially been dating Marinette for six months and his life felt fuller than he ever thought it would. The magic she had over his every emotion, the love she gave him every second of the day, the attention that he had received from her when he never received it from his father... he knew his life would never get better than this.

At least not until he had kittens of his own. Then his life would become infinitely times better knowing he had children with the love of his life.

Adrien didn’t want to wait anymore. He knew in his heart and ever since their first encounter, that he would marry the girl under the mask. He never would have thought that the girl he fell in love with would have been his best friend throughout the entirety of their partnership, but the simple fact that that happened was a bonus in his eyes.

He always loved Marinette even when he didn’t realize it. He loved the way her brain worked, how she stood up to people, how she made sure everyone, including him, felt included. He loved how fearless she was when her determination took over her meek moments, and even though their conversations were sparse in the early years, she always made an attempt to go over certain social interactions with him when he was really confused.

Then there was the Ladybug side of her, which was really the confident side of Marinette. That mask only amplified her already Marinette attitude, with less stuttering and more playful banter mixed in. But once that thick veil of kwami magic that kept them from knowing each other’s identities fell, he repeatedly scolded himself for never seeing it sooner. Besides that one time with Multimouse, of course. 

She really fooled him there.

He sat in his office, pondering over what he would do to show her he really meant forever. Sitting in his chair, his body slacked and leaned onto one armrest while the other hand held onto the opposite armrest, his mind whizzed with wandering thoughts of what he wanted to do. The length of his finger slid back and forth against his pursed lips, and his eyes looked to be searching the distance for the answer to his question.

Suddenly, Adrien sat up in his chair and a bright smile crested his lips. Plagg noticed his chosen’s upbeat mood, and begrudgingly closed his eyes to pretend he didn’t notice. Adrien turned on his laptop and pressed a few keys, clicked his office phone to Do Not Disturb, and stood up to gather his things and rushed out the door. 

Plagg barely made it to his chosen’s pocket before his personal assistant looked up from her desk, and he noticed the panicked look on her face from Adrien’s suddenly completely cleared afternoon.

“Monsieur Agreste! You have important meetings you need to attend to this afternoon. You can’t just cancel them like this!”

Adrien turned around and placed his hand on her hand. “Margaret. Please. Something important came up and I have to leave to take care of it.” He gave her his trademark soft eyes and Margaret melted in her spot.

“Ye- yes, Monsieur. I’ll arrange for them to come again tomorrow.” 

Adrien smiled and patted her hand, whispering out a ‘you’re the absolute best’ before hastily running towards the elevator and making his way down to the street.

“Now to get my plan in action.” He sighed out with a thrill of excitement running through his bones.

“Kitty? What are you up to?” Ladybug called out as Chat Noir led her on a long winded, yet fun, chase under the beautiful moonlit sky. The stars were out and shining, while the light pollution remained at bay. It was an absolutely stunning night.

Chat Noir paused on a rooftop and waited for her to catch up. “Nothing special, my love. I’m taking you on a grand tour of the city!” He gestured out to the city below him.

Ladybug let out a giggle. “You mean more than I already have?”

“Humor me, okay? I have a spurrtacular surprise for you!”

Ladybug tilted her head and let out another breathy laugh, before watching Chat leap onto another rooftop and make his way across the skyline. She whipped out her yo-yo and chased his tail, watching the giddy man smile with every muscle in his face. Whatever he had planned was making him absolutely happy.

Chat ended his route on top of a garden terrace, one of the more beautiful ones in the city. It belonged to one of the renown florists in the city, a man that was normally called upon to host the many events at the Le Grand Hotel due to his eloquent floral pieces. The florist had created this terrace for himself to enjoy in the evenings after his work was done for the day, while also hosting a few small weddings to give others a chance to have a garden ceremony without leaving the city. The entire rooftop was filled with rose bushes, magnolia trees, cherry blossoms, and wildflowers, the entire area cultivated to perfection.

As she made her way closer to his waiting form, Ladybug noticed that there was a table set up nestled underneath the pergola, beautiful fairy lights hanging from it to give it a heavenly glow. The table also had a single lit candle, but the area around them was lit up with an array of red and white pillars of candles. She could also hear the faint noise of classical music, a rendition of her favorite song by a pianist playing in the background. She gasped as she took in her surroundings and brought her hands up to her lips the moment she safely landed on the terrace. 

Chat turned around and watched her expression. He had already made his way towards the table, waiting until the moment she took a step onto the rooftop to turn. He waited for Ladybug to join him, the sweet smile and the loving gaze inviting her to stand beside him as he lifted up his palm to take her hand in his.

Ladybug smiled as she placed her hand in his waiting hand, then he brought her closer to him by pressing his other palm onto the small of her back. Leading her into a simple sway, he began to dance with her, and she nestled her head against his chest, sighing at the love she could feel through the romantic atmosphere.

Chat placed his chin on her head, stealing kisses to her hair every so often. Once the song ended, Ladybug looked up at him with a loving smile, and Chat met her lips with his. The kiss was slow, but full of love. There was no rush, no desire to take her right there in the moment; he was perfectly content with giving her love and affection with just the use of his mouth. 

When they finally parted, Ladybug looked at him and finally asked. “What is all this for?”

“Can’t I spoil my bug in the way she deserves?”

Chat began to sway again but the smell of the delicious meal he ordered had started to fill the air. Ladybug turned around and noticed a caterer arriving with two trays of food and setting them on the table, then filling up the wine glasses with a smooth red wine. Chat thanked the caterer for his help and the man bowed and walked away from view.

“Milady…” Chat bowed, placing a kiss to her knuckles before pulling out the seat for her to sit.

The two enjoyed a delicious meal starting with a simple salad spritz with a raspberry vinaigrette, an entree of beef bourguignon with a side of roasted carrots, and creme brulee for dessert made with love from Tom and Sabine’s boulangerie. 

“Chat. That was lovely. Thank you.”

“Anything and everything for you my lady.”

Ladybug looked at him and the love for him grew by the second.

“I have everything I need, right here.” She said, placing her hand on top of his.

“I’m glad you say that, my love, because I feel the same way.” Chat stood up and walked towards her, unzipping his pocket to retrieve a black velvet box. Ladybug watched his every move, but the moment he bent down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the rose gold band with a pink princess cut diamond nestled between a sea of red, and black, her eyes began to water and her hands flew to her mouth to contain the happy sobs. Chat took one of her hands from her lips and wrapped his hand around her fingers.

“Milady, my love… my princess, Marinette,” he whispered her name to ensure no one would overhear, “I met you the moment you fell from the heavens above. While I know you fell from your sheer clumsiness, I could not deny that you fell into my heart that very same day.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, but he could tell from the curl of her lips that she was amused from his little speech.

“That same afternoon, I fell in love with you again when the heavens crashed together, electrifying our love.” Her head tilted as she remembered that day, the day that sealed their fate of forever.

“Even though our reveal was quite unorthodox, I cannot, without a doubt, say that it was any less revealing than us without any clothes.” Ladybug scoffed and playfully slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle before finishing what he wanted to say.

“But I know for a fact, that I love you. You make me feel so loved, so welcomed, so happy, and so full of life that I don’t want to know what would happen if I ever lost you. I want to spend forever with you. To have our home, our three kids, our hamster, our kwamis, and just us. Ladybug, Marinette. Will you marry me?”

Ladybug closed her eyes in a willing attempt to pause the tears that threatened to fall, but it was all for naught. She nodded her head furiously before wrapping her arms around his neck, chanting out a Yes. Yes I will, over and over again as if this was all a dream. Finally, she pulled back and allowed him to place the ring on her finger, and she grasped his cheeks with her hands before placing a loving kiss to his lips. The moment she pulled back she whispered against his lips. “I love you Chaton, my Adrien. Forever and always.”

#smutember #smutember 2020 #LadyNoir #Unveiled Love #ml fanfiction

[all-things-skam]

eliott protecting lucas from his dad ( maybe you can also add him a bit of him confronting lucas’ dad over the fact that he financially and emotionally abandoned lucas?)

Anon: Bonjour! Could you write something about Lucas’s dad (he can be a right arsewipe or just a bit dodgy) and other people reacting to it? Thanks \••/

Anon: Overprotective Elliot please

-

Title: Father, dear father

Ship: Skam France | Lucas Lallemant and Eliot Demaury (Elu)

Lucas’s dad wasn’t the father of the year. He was shallow, self-centered and always late.

The young couple had been waiting for him at the restaurant for over an hour and Eliott was starting to get impatient. They had ran across the city to get to this damn dinner in time yet, Lucas’s dad had yet to show up after sixty minutes. Sixty-two!

After twenty minutes of waiting they grew tired and Eliott suggesting ordering some drinks. But as the time passed, he grew more impatient. Lucas knew how exhausted Eliott was having come from a long shift at work, so he agreed to order some entrees and they could order their meal once he arrived. But now, they were long finished their entrees and it was clear that Eliott was not having it.

“If he’s not there in five minute, we’re leaving. I’m not gonna wait here all evening for someone who can’t bother warning that they’re going to be late. That is, if he’s going to show up.”

“He’s going to show up. He told me he would.”

Eliott raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like last week when he said he’d transfer you your part for the rent?” Lucas narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend. “Sorry.”

Eliott was right though.

Lucas owed two months of rent to Mika and his dad still hadn’t transferred him the money after promising him he’d do it. Lucky for Lucas that Eliott had some spare money he could let him borrow. Lucas felt bad for taking so much money from Eliott. He had worked hard to earn this and should be using it for college next year, not pay Lucas’s late rents.

Checking the time on his phone, Eliott stood, about to pull on his jacket when Lucas stopped him.

“Eli, please. Sit down,” Lucas insisted.

Tonight was the first time Eliott would meet his dad and Lucas had been stressing over this dinner for days, hoping everything would go smoothly but, his father’s tardiness was getting on Eliott’s bad side which was not good.

Eliott was already not a fan of how the man left Lucas alone to deal with his mentally ill mother. He was fifteen for fuck’s sake. At fifteen, you should be making new experiences and skateboarding with your friends. He shouldn’t have been the one dealing his schizophrenic mother, it was his dad’s duty - even if they were getting a divorce.

It was almost 8pm when a familiar face took a seat in front of Lucas, acting as if nothing happened. He snapped his fingers at the waitress passing by, calling for a rhum on ice and gave his son a cold hello before glancing at the unfamiliar face.

“I’m Stéphane, you must be Elio.”

“It’s Eliott.”

“Did you change your shifts at work? You used to have weekends off,” Lucas asked, trying to justify his dad’s tardiness.

The man pulled his eyebrows. “I wasn’t at work. Why would I be at work on a Saturday?”

“What held you back, then?” Eliott asked, saying what Lucas didn’t dare asking.

A part of him understood why he didn’t ask. From what Eliott knew, Stéphane had left Lucas and his mom and moved across the city in a condo. Lucas was probably afraid of discovering that would break his heart like his dad having a new girlfriend. The divorce had been finalized two months ago, it was a bit fast to be moving on and it was unfair to Lucas’s mom who had no say in this divorce yet was still under Stéphane’s responsibility.

“I’m sorry?”

“We agreed to meet here at 6:30, and it’s 8pm.”

“Did we?”

“Lucas sent you texts and called you two times, did you not read them?”

Lucas put his hand on Eliott’s thigh, squeezing, silently asking him to calm down. He didn’t want his boyfriend to get into an argument with his dad on their first meeting.

“Well, at least I’m here,” he laughed, but Eliott was not having it. It was anything but funny.

The waitress came with Stéphane’s drink and brought a menu table for him.

Eliott was now protectively holding Lucas’s hand. He was hoping that holding the younger boy’s hand would prevent him from lashing out at his dad, that Lucas’s touch would calm him down. Eliott was never a particularly violent person and he rarely got angry. But, when it came to Lucas, it was a different story.

He gave the man a stern look and just shook his head. “It was you who wanted to meet up, maybe consider being on time next time,” Eliott muttered bitterly in a quiet voice.

Stéphane took a sip of his drink and, just as he put it down, his phone went off. He checked the screen and smiled. “Excuse me. I have to take this, it’s my fiancé.”

As soon as Lucas heard the word ‘fiancé’, he felt like he’d been stabbed. In every argument with his mom he would say that he would never make the same mistake again and that he would never get married. Just another one of his lies and this was not the time for Lucas to find out. He had left his mom and him to their own devices just to go and play happy family with some other women. What was worst was the smile that rose on his face as he talked to her on the phone.

Everything was hurting in that moment. Lucas felt tears filling up his eyes, he knew he was about to cry but he didn’t want to cause a scene at the restaurant so he quickly stood up and ran to the bathroom.

“Lucas?” Stéphane said, watching his son leave the table, completely clueless. He told his fiancé that he would call her back in a minute and hung up. “What’s up with him? Is he feeling sick or something?” he asked Eliott. Does he not know what he did wrong?

Eliott wanted to follow him, knowing he might need comfort, but he had something else to do beforehand.

“I was holding myself back for Lucas but now that he left, all thanks to you, I might as well be honest with you. Do you know how much this dinner meant to him? Beside his mom, you’re all he has. He keeps giving you chances, thinking you’ll do good yet, you fail him every single time. Do you know the amount of stress Lucas has to handle every single day because of you? You’re either not sending the rent on time or texting him something frustrating or not even listening to him when he needs someone. You’re his father, you should be there for him! But no, you abandoned him. Lucky for you I’m here to make sure he has a roof over his head and food in his stomach.”

Eliott was aware of the gravity of his accusation but, it was all true. Stéphane had abandoned Lucas both emotionally and financially and Eliott wasn’t okay with that. Children should be loved and supported, not tossed aside when they don’t grow up the way you wanted them to.

“He lost his entire family because of you and has to manage everything on his own while you’re out here, living some sort of a fantasy life, as if Lucas and his mom don’t matter anymore. I get that taking care of a mentally ill can be exhausting but don’t abandon them like some defectful toy. Do you enjoy hurting people? Is that why you abandoned them? So you could start a new, ‘perfect’ family where no one is faltive in any ways?”

He took a deep breath trying to tone down his anger. This man infuriated him.

“He barely get any sleep because he’s so stressed out about everything. He worries sick about his mom, worried if one day he’ll get a call that she has done something terrible to herself. But, you wouldn’t want to hear all of that would you? You’re too busy sticking your head in the sand. When Lucas talked me into meeting you, I was willing to give you a chance. I thought, maybe he’ll prove me wrong, maybe he’s a nice man.” Eliott shook his head, laughing at himself. “Pardon me for saying this but, you fucked up big time tonight. Showing up late was one thing but answering your fiancé during this dinner was beyond disrespectful and extremely hurtful for Lucas. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll got pick up the pieces of the mess you made.” He stood and too Lucas’s jacket from the back of the chair. “Don’t wait for us. We’re not coming back.”

He made his way to the bathroom and pulled a crying Lucas into his arms the second he saw him, not caring if he’d get his nice shirt wet. It was just clothes. Lucas looked like he wanted to say something but the only thing he could do was bury his face in Eliott’s chest for a minute.

“He lied… H-how could he?” His bottom lip trembled as he looked up at Eliott, blue eyes red from crying, tears on his face. “H-how could he do that to us? How could he replace us so fast?”

Eliott wanted to tell Lucas that his dad was an asshole and that he didn’t deserve Lucas’s love but realized a public bathroom wasn’t the place to have this conversation.

Instead, he gently rubbed Lucas’s back, knowing that it calmed Lucas down. “Let me take you home, get you cuddled up in my bed. We can even order in from your favorite restaurant to make up for this shitty dinner. I told your dad we were leaving, you don’t have to go back.”

Lucas rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. “I can’t just leave and give up on this. I have to talk him eventually…don’t I?”

“You don’t have to. Not tonight.”

Lucas sniffled and nodded. ‘‘Okay. Let’s go home.’‘

Eliott kissed his cheek and helped Lucas with his jacket, taking his hand as they exited the restaurant without looking back.

#elu #elu fic #eliott x lucas #lucas x eliott #eliott demaury #Lucas Lallemant #skamfr #skam france

[lachanterelle-endicott]

Contained Chaos

It was a night that I will never forget at La Chanterelle. It was one filled with an aroma of French cuisine, flying food, and hot plates. For three and a half hours La Chanterelle was a world filled with organized chaos, but every time someone stepped through the left door to exit the kitchen and serve while returning through the right door into the kitchen, another guest was made happy. Many people think that a great restaurant is successful because of its order and decadent food; however, La Chanterelle is proof that chaos and teachable moments are what makes a great restaurant. 

It was a brisk night in the middle of March and the class had just shifted from two options for each course to three. This meant that dishes would have to be washed and reused twice instead of once, students would have to create three different entrees, and dessert would need to be prepared by the time the entrees were sent out. 60 people were coming, and timing was everything. 

5:00 p.m. - It is an hour before I have to go across the street to La Chanterelle. Half of my classmates have already been at the restaurant setting up for the night: baking bread, chopping vegetables, and setting up each dish to be cooked for when we were to arrive. I put on my white chef coat, black and white checkered pants, white chef hat, and tied my blue chef’s tie around my neck. I was ready. My stomach was in knots because I knew tonight would be different. It was the first night with three choices for each appetizer, entree, and dessert. No matter what position I was assigned, tonight would be a whirlwind. We had been practicing for four weeks without customers, and then two weeks with customers and two options for each course. We have always been able to ask our professors questions, but tonight we had six weeks of practice under our belt so it was time to start becoming more independent. 

6:00 p.m. - When I walked up the unloading dock and into the back of the kitchen, I was greeted by 20 classmates. I made sure to go upstairs and drop off my books in the locker room. We all stood upstairs looking at each other and mentally prepared for the night. We made sure to go over which departments of the kitchen each group was going to be responsible for, and we went downstairs.  

6:15 p.m. - The first half of students that worked prep, met with us and presented us with their aprons and towels that we wrapped around our waists. Chef Cronin and Chef Rebecca came to the kitchen and discussed what would be prepared tonight, how many people were coming (usually between 50 and 60 people), and what was left to be done before the first orders started to come in. The last question was “who is going to expedite the orders?” The expeditor works with the front of the house servers by making sure they get the correct dish and everything is on time. They are the mediator between the front and the back of the house. Everyone was very quiet, but I eventually raised my hand. I knew I was up for the challenge. I would make sure at most each server had four plates to carry, and they were in the correct positioning for synchronized service. 

6:30 p.m. - I took the checklist of everything that needed to be done, and made sure that the first dishes were ready to go - the amuse bouche (a small cracker served with hummus). I communicated with the front of the house teaching assistant, Kayla, and another student from the service class about the 60 patrons coming, and how to make sure each count of plates was the same with the others. The plates would need to be washed in between service cycles, but we had to be proactive and make sure our numbers lined up. Kayla taught me how to document the orders coming in on each electronic ticket, and how to relay that information to my culinary classmates. I made sure before the first ticket came in, to go around and make sure all the culinary students were ready and excited like I was. Chef Cronin pulled me aside and reminded me that this is a learning process, and communication is our best tool. I do not remember his exact words, but I remember his expression on his face - he gave me a cheerful smile and high five. He had confidence in me, and I was ready to make this the best night yet. Soon, the first ticket came in, and it was show time. 

6:45-7:15 p.m. - I had tickets coming in within seconds of each other, and I needed to make sure I was getting the right count of appetizers, entrees, and desserts for my culinary classmates to prepare. It was overwhelming at first, because I did not want to have excess food, or a shortage. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and my eyes couldn’t focus on the paper. I was standing right in the front of the kitchen at the divider between the front and back of the house. The pass acted as a gateway where I crossed off tickets from my spreadsheet and placed plates down for servers to pick up. Once I received a ticket, I would contact the corresponding person working on that dish and update them that I would need their finished product soon. I quickly picked it up, and created my own system. It would take a few tickets to gain my confidence in asking my classmates for food, but soon I didn’t have to say anything - the food would just appear. I would take each ticket that came in, match it to the table, and tally how many of each dish people wanted. I had to make sure people knew the special requests made from guests such as allergies and vegetarian options.  I would then tell the leader of each section the updated numbers, and once tickets were fired (sent through the electronic system to me), I would send out the meals. Soon, I realized my hands were steady and my head was completely focused. 

7:30-8:15 p.m. - The next section of the night was the entrees. Appetizers went out easily because many people ordered salad and escargots, so the soup number was low. Guests could choose between fish, pork, and chicken as their entree. I had about 20 in each category, and I told my classmates to start plating. With 20 of us in the kitchen, my classmates were separated into groups of three or four, each with a specific task focused on one of the appetizers, entrees, and desserts. They worked hand in hand to make each plate unique and perfect in flavor and presentation. I could hear them behind me asking what the updated plate count was, and handing me their hot plates saying which table they were going to. Everyone was sweating. 

These next 45 minutes went extremely fast and it was filled with crossing off tickets of tables that had gotten their food, while also making sure the special orders were taken care of. The Dean of Hospitality Management came for dinner that night, and he needed vegetarian options for him and his family, so we had to prepare his own dinner. This mounted some added pressure because we had to prepare a dish that was not on our menu. Chef Cronin helped take the reins and made sure to tell me that once this dish was in the pass, it should go out immediately. Entrees were tricky because the plates were usually extra hot due to sitting at the pass, so I had to make sure that service students knew and could put a towel down on their arms for protection. Once the last dish was put up at the pass and taken into the dining room, we only had one more course before the night would be over. Chef Cronin checked on me towards the end of entrees, and he told me that he thought things were running very smoothly. Chef Rebecca came up right behind him and asked for the dessert numbers so the students could start plating. 

8:30-9:00 p.m. - Expediting the dessert went very smoothly because the students quickly had them plated, so they just had to bring them to me when tickets were fired. The Dean sometimes asks for a tasting of each dessert, so we made him his own platter to serve. Another person was celebrating their birthday that night and I decorated a plate in cursive saying “Happy Birthday.” After dessert, checks are printed and it is my job to pass out the final bite of the night - mignardises. Tonight, it was chocolate truffles. Chef Rebecca asked me how I was feeling after the night, and I told her that I would sleep well. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, and I felt accomplished. She told me that being an expeditor is one of the most important jobs in the kitchen because they are the communication between the servers and the chefs. She expressed that the class worked extremely well together and that I helped make it run smoothly. “Maybe this could be part of your future,” she said. 

9:00-9:30 p.m. - After my job as expeditor was finished for the night and the last guest received their check, I helped clean the kitchen with my peers, and after, we all stood around the table and debriefed the night. They asked me specifically how expediting felt, and I told them that it was hectic at first, but by calming down and taking it one ticket at a time, the night flew by with fun. I also said that I couldn’t have done it without my classmates. Their seamless execution of each dish was impeccable and made my job very easy. We were told by our professors this was one of the first nights that everything ran so smoothly, and we were free to go. We each returned our aprons, and took some of the extra food leftover from the night. 

I walked out of La Chanterelle that night feeling extremely accomplished. I also had a newfound respect for people working in restaurants. It takes a lot of communication and focus to make sure each guest receives the right plate of food. I am honored I got the opportunity, and I look forward to what the future holds. While that night at La Chanterelle was filled with chaos, it was also filled with teaching. Every time my professors or classmates came up to me to ask a question or check up on me, I learned more and more about teamwork. No longer will I go into a restaurant thinking the food makes it successful. No. The people make it successful.

[timetodine-us-blog]

Brazzi Brick Oven Trattoria 601 NJ-72, Manahawkin, New Jersey 08050 [phone] brazzibrickoven.com Those who know us know we love food and, perhaps more than anything, honest, home grown Italian fare. What I’m saying is: if Olive Garden is your idea of quality Italian cooking, we can’t be friends.  Anyway, a friend recommended Brazzi to us primarily on the grounds that they make a killer wood-fired pizza (and rest assured, they definitely do). But within a few minutes of pulling into the parking lot, it became abundantly clear there was more to this little hole in the wall than its reputation suggests. We’ve been reviewing restaurants on Facebook for a while now, hell-bent on spreading the good word of the kinds of places that fit our Italian ideals of family and community and showing love through food. We like to mention this to people, not because we’re grabbing for some freebies, but rather because we want to get the full experience of a place and, if we’re lucky, share some words with the owner or manager about what got them to the point of engaging in one of the most stressful industries on Earth. Brazzi was no different. I knew something was going to go really well when they brought out an order of garlic knots which should, on principle alone, not be anything particularly special. Boy was I wrong. My perception of garlic knots has largely been informed by the idea that you take some pizza dough, knot it, and either bake it or drop it in the fryer for a minute until it gets puffy and golden, at which point you douse it with some butter and, of course, garlic, and serve it up. These were not that. They were light, more like bread than pizza crust, and were topped with toasted sesame seed which should absolutely kill the entire vibe but, somehow, it made them the best.  The place already had us by the heart strings, and also entirely unsure of what it was we were getting ourselves into. Next came the pasta e fagioli (phonetically: pasta fazool), which mom and I had both grown up eating only a white version of (which is to say, broth only and no tomato). The red exists, but if you were to ask my grandmother, that was the wrong way to make it. To each their own. Brazzi, however, makes what they describe as a “pink” pasta e fagioli. It has some tomato in its base, and ends up being almost creamy for it. There’s no acidity to the soup whatsoever, and every single ingredient, from the onions to the beans to the pasta itself, felt fresh. I’m a bit of a soup snob, and let me tell you, the soup was homemade in what almost felt like the most literal sense of the word.  Some bread (straight out of Staten Island) was served up alongside their Rice Ball Supreme, a traditional rice ball stuffed with ricotta and topped with melted mozzarella and marinara. Mom and I agreed it needed a bit more garlic, but we acknowledge that we’re in the camp that considers a recipe calling for two cloves of garlic to really mean six, so we might not be the most neutral judges on that front. Still, the rice maintained a firmness without being hard, and the cheese was absolutely the perfect accompaniment. And don’t get us started on the marinara. I should not be impressed by tomato sauce. It’s the kind of thing you should be fundamentally incapable of screwing up, but people do it all the time. You don’t know until you’ve had fresh tomato sauce just how distinct the canned taste really is, but once you’ve noticed it, you won’t want to go back.  Then came the entrees, an order of shrimp fra diavolo and a medium margarita pizza. I’ve developed some metrics over the years of things that, if done right, means a restaurant knows what its doing. Margarita pizza from an Italian place is one of those things. I knew we were on solid ground with the marinara, and the mozzarella was impressively fresh. The wood oven lends a kind of smoky taste to the pizza’s crust that’s hard to explain but it works. That being said, we would have preferred the crust a bit more well-done, but that’s a preference thing, so don’t worry.  That shrimp fra diavolo, however, was next level from start to finish. Fra diavolo is, by its very nature, spicy, but this never felt overtly hot for the sake of being hot. The spice came from the peppers which very intently added an overall sense of acidity that balanced well with the shrimp’s succulent, almost lobster-esque flavor. How shrimp can ever taste like lobster so distinctly is beyond me, but mom couldn’t quite get enough.  We have this tradition when we go to an Italian joint. It’s sort of like the true test of a restaurant’s credibility, and it comes in the form of cannoli cream. This idea to eat cannoli cream on its own is entirely mom’s, but you definitely get a better sense of the ingredients when you take the filling out of its shell. Cannoli cream is, essentially, fresh ricotta mixed with confectioner’s sugar and some other ingredients, often with semi-sweet chocolate chips for a bit of variety. Often, the processed or bagged stuff will be incredibly pale white, looking more akin to vanilla frosting than something made from fresh ricotta. At Brazzi, that wasn’t the case. You could taste the made fresh nature of the stuff, not entirely perfect but far tastier than any cannoli you’ve had from Joe Schmoe’s Bake Shop, I can promise you that.  After our meal, we had a chat with one of the owners who spoke to us with such passion and such pride for their commitment to doing everything real and everything fresh that I actually got a bit emotional (no, I’m not kidding, you can ask mom). He went over the daily specials with us, all of which sounded divine (there is always, he told us, at least one whole fish option on the menu every day), and brought us out some more garlic knots because, let’s be honest, there’s no such thing as too many. He also made mention of the fact that, every Christmas Eve, the restaurant offers the traditional “Feast of the Seven Fishes” (something we’ve done every year, usually coming in closer to five or six), family style. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about Brazzi, I don’t quite know what will.

#food #foodporn #restaurant #foodreview #anthonybourdain #timetodine #brazzimanahawkin #italianfood

[little-chimchim]

Sugar and Spice- Part 1

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3919

Genre: Chef au! Celebrity au! 

Pairing: Mingyu x Wonwoo

A/N: Oh shiz, it’s been what, like five months since I’ve written a fic? Woah. I am so sorry for keeping you all waiting. So here it is! I know it’s an actually pairing instead of an OC this time, but I think you guys will enjoy this, I know I do. Thank you all for being patient, I love you all...Kay

Masterlist 

--------------------------------

“What does cooking mean to you?” The talk show host asked, seemingly proud of herself by asking such an ‘original’ question. She straightened her back and leaned towards the man she had been interrogating for the past twenty minutes.

The man, void of any awkward tension, followed the host’s actions and moved toward the mic that had been thrust in his direction as he smiled cockily towards the camera. “Cooking, to me, is an art. I’m not just putting foods together at random for people to eat. No, I blend together ingredients to create masterpieces that people don’t just witness with their eyes, but to savor with their scent and taste as well. Cooking to me, is an art that can truly bring everyone together.” The man finished his answer by quickly winking towards the camera before turning back to the host.

There was a thunderous applause sounding from the audience, mostly consisting of teenage girls and their overbearing house mothers, all taking turns chanting the celebrity chef’s name.

On the other side of the camera, in front of a worn little t.v, tucked in between a refrigerator and shelf, sat six men, all staring at the man in the interview.  

“There are only so many ways to look like a pompous idiot, and Chef is exhibiting every single one of them,” Griped the man in the middle. He shook his head, the long black strands of his hair falling into his eyes as he did so. The black haired man looked to the other men in the room, an evident frown on his face.

“Is someone jealous that they didn’t get to be on t.v. too?” Cracked the tallest of the men. Minghao, the man with the black hair, peeked over his shoulder in order to glare daggers at the man who opened his mouth.

Seokmin, the tallest of the men, only smiled towards Minghao, his eyes disappearing into half moons as the smile took over his lively features. “Sorry, Hao. You know that I’m just playing with you.” He cheered, trying his best to sound sincere towards the younger male.

Minghao rolled his eyes, knitting his fingers together in his lap. “At least it’s good business for the restaurant,” Hao grumbled. The dark haired man untied his fingers and pushed himself off of the creaky metal chair. He swept his gaze around the kitchen the focused his attention back to the men in the room.

“Chef should be getting back soon, let’s get things ready to open.”

Minghao, despite his young age, was the sous chef. Second in command. When Mingyu was not present, Minghao had no qualms with running the kitchen how he wanted it. Of course, because euro of this, it caused an almost friendly tension between the two chefs that was evident to everyone who laid eyes on the pair.

“Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan go get the friers ready and start prepping the fish, we have salmon from last night to use.” Minghao barked at the three men huddled closest together.

The three of them nodded their heads and scurried off, just to finish the task Minghao had given them.

These three were the line cooks, a humorous bunch trained in the culinary arts. They were young, fresh out of top notch culinary schools, but naive and inexperienced. Though, to Mingyu, this only added to their appeal.

After giving the trio their orders, Minghao turned to the next man in line, the oldest in the kitchen. His features were much softer than Minghao’s, kinder too. A lighthearted smile played at his pink lips as Minghao approached him.

“Joshua, did you finish the icing for the strawberry tart?” Minghao asked, his voice half expectant, already knowing what the older man’s response would be. Joshua’s eyes lit up, he straightened his back and brought his hands to the tops of his hips.

“The icing is done and so are the chocolate cakes. I started on the creme brulee but I decided that we were going to do the cakes as our dessert special instead.” Joshua beamed as he spoke about his work.

Minghao nodded his head, reaching over to pat his elder’s shoulder. “Good work. I didn’t expect anything else.” The black haired man pressed his lips together into a thin smile, waving his hand at the older man signaling for him to go to his station.

Joshua bowed his head slightly before making his way back to the counters filled with goodies.

Minghao then turned his attention towards the last man. He was sitting patiently on a rickety wooden stool, his hands folded in his lap while he waited for Minghao’s orders. “Wonwoo, go scrub dishes we'll be using a lot of them tonight.” Minghao ordered as he turned around to man his own station.

Wonwoo stayed silent, not uttering a word as he nodded his head. He pushed himself off of the stool and sauntered towards the sinks, where plates and pans were already starting to stack up. He sucked in a deep breath, rolling his shirt up to his elbows before diving into the workload.

Wonwoo was different from the rest of the men in the restaurant. He did not attend some overly expensive culinary school in some remote European country, nor did he have the honor to actually prepare the food himself. Instead, he was charged with dishwashing and good prep; as was the life of the kitchen assistant.

No one truly knew anything about the young assistant, other than his name and that never said no to anyone in the kitchen. He was a peculiar man, no doubt about it, but after a year of working for Mingyu, everyone stopped questioning him and left him to his own devices.

Of course, the troublesome trio of Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan couldn’t just leave it at that. They spent their days trying to figure the quiet assistant out, oftentimes terrorizing the poor man until he actually says something about their antics.

The mediator of everything was the ever innocent Joshua, who had, on multiple occasions, tried to befriend the quiet assistant. Though, with no avail.

No matter what, Jeon Wonwoo had always been the kitchen’s biggest mystery.

Later that night, shortly after the brunt of the kitchen rush had died away, the man of the hour walked through the doors of the restaurant. Mingyu strode into his kitchen, smiling at all of the customers along the way.

He was clad in fine clothing, and if everyone didn’t know better, he could easily be mistaken for something other than a world class chef.

Except, he was.

Kim Mingyu, former child actor turned celebrity chef and tv personality. Not exactly the turn of events most people expected when it came to child stars. Though, when Mingyu found that his passion didn’t lie with acting, he turned around and turned his true passion into a career.

He walked through the building with an aura that screamed confidence. He held his head up high with a smile on his lips so bright that the sun would have been jealous. Once he came through the kitchen, all time seemed to stop.

Everyone paused what they were doing to look at Mingyu. Minghao, having been working on the main entrees, was the first to speak to the chef. “Hello Chef,” He exclaimed loudly as he bent his body forward.

Soon after, everyone else in the kitchen followed Minghao’s brief introduction to their boss. Mingyu, satisfied with the greeting, pressed his lips together into a thin smile and waved his hand at Minghao for him to continue. “It looks like you guys have done a good job while I was gone. I’m impressed.” Mingyu stepped through the kitchen, walking passed the rest of the employees. He brought his hand up to his mouth and yawned, visibly tired from the day’s public adventure.

“I’m heading upstairs, I’m exhausted.”  Was all Mingyu said before he started to make his way towards the stairs that led to his apartment above the restaurant.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Mingyu looked back down to his employees and caught their attention. “Close up early tonight, you all deserve it. See you tomorrow.” He added as he stepped away.

The kitchen staff looked amongst themselves and nodded their heads, pleased with their boss’s generosity. Minghao returned back to his dish, a warm smile on his face. “Alright everyone, you heard the man. Let’s get out of here.” He cheered while he finished up the last of his plates.

Wonwoo was the last one inside the kitchen. The dishes kept piling up, even after the rest of the kitchen had left. He wished to go home, but he wasn’t allowed to until the entirety of the kitchen was spotless.

This was his favorite time of the night, when everyone was gone and he had the entire kitchen to himself. It was calming, not having to deal with everyone else and being able to do his own thing, at his own pace.

This was also the time of night where he could prepare his own food, without being yelled at for touching the stove.

Contrary to what everyone else believed, Wonwoo loved to cook. When Mingyu hired him just a year prior, he believed that he was being hired in as a line cook. He was greatly disappointed to find out what his actual role entailed, but a job was a job and Wonwoo had bills to pay.

So he sucked it up and kept to himself, in hopes that he would be moved up one day.

Wonwoo wiped his wet hands on the rough fabric of his dark blue jeans. He stretched his arms over his head and grunted the moment his joints popped. He rubbed his tired eyes then stepped away from the sinks.

He roamed the empty kitchen curiously as he examined the cabinets and coolers for ingredients for tonight's meal. He combed throw his various choices before finally settling on the ingredients for a basic pasta dish that was easy enough for a toddler to replicate.

He had prepared far trickier dishes, but tonight, all he wanted to do was go home with a full meal and enough time to sleep before having to come right back in to the kitchen.

Wonwoo, ever the perfectionist, laid his ingredients out in neat lines, organizing them in the order that he would use them. He grinned to himself, an action he so rarely expressed, and began his work.

He flew through the steps, completing it all with ease. He found joy in even the simple dishes. Cutting a tomato wasn't just another boring step. Every detail mattered to him.

In fact, he became so enthralled by the cooking process that he wasn't fully aware with how loud he was being, as he was so lost in his own world.

Usually, using the kitchen after the restaurant was closed was no problem. He was able to go in, get the ingredients and start cooking with no setbacks. It had been a year without being found out.

Though, Wonwoo had gotten a little too comfortable in the empty space of the kitchen. He was so used to being unbothered in these rare few minutes alone, that he hadn't heard someone tiptoeing down the stairs and into the little space.

“Mince the onions instead of chopping them. It's easier to eat it that way.” Spoke a soft voice from the other side of the room.

Wonwoo jumped, dropping the onion he had been holding on to the ground. His heart rate picked up as he turned his head to face the owner of the voice.

He stood up straighter and placed his hands at his sides, his almost military trained, blank expression back on his face.

Mingyu made his way into the kitchen. He glanced around the area, examining everything Wonwoo had been doing. “Carbonara?” Mingyu asked, peering down into the pot of boiled noodles and spices.

Wonwoo slowly nodded his head, his face void of expression. “Yes sir,” He bellowed clearly. Mingyu raised his brow in curiosity as he looked closer at the dish in front if him. “Well I can already tell that you're going to need more cheese. It's not nearly thick enough,” Mingyu began.

The young chef reached over to grab the nearest utensil, the spoon Wonwoo had used to stir the pasta. Mingyu dipped the spoon into the pan and brought it to his lips. Mingyu stuck his tongue out to taste the sauce Wonwoo had doused his noodles in.

The was a stale silence in the air as Wonwoo waited for Mingyu to say something. He cursed himself under his breath for being loud enough to wake Mingyu up all the way in his upstairs apartment.

His heart was beating painfully inside his chest while he waited for the chef to make up his mind about liking his dish. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mingyu finally started to talk. “It’s not bad. There’s just a tad too much salt, and too little sauce. But the taste, for being so simple, is not bad at all.” Mingyu muttered as he overanalyzed what was supposed to be Wonwoo’s dinner.

Mingyu set the spoon back down on the counter and turned around to face Wonwoo. He pointed his finger at the older man, a smile bright on his cheery features. “You made this?” In response, Wonwoo furiously nodded his head, his lips sealed together.

Mingyu raised his brows in curiosity. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants and casually stepped closer to the silent man  “Do you usually come down to cook?”

Again, the silent nodding.

Mingyu let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. “If I had known that you could cook, I'd have tried to help you much sooner. You're not bad I'm quite impressed actually. I'd say that you could easily, with a little bit of help,  be on the same level as those trio of dummies that run my line.”

Wonwoo shook his head this time, “I'm not that good,” he mumbled timidly. He tied his fingers together and rocked on his heels, trying to find ways to escape this conversation.

Mingyu raised his hand and extended his finger to point at Wonwoo. “And that's where you're wrong. You have potential and I want to be the one to bring it out of you.”

Wonwoo only stared at Mingyu as he tried to understand what he was saying. This is the most Wonwoo had ever talked to Mingyu and he was already blurting nonsense about teaching him how to cook.

Mingyu lowered his hand and cleared his throat. “What I'm trying to say is that I see potential in you and I'm willing to work with you, after hours, to get you to a point where you can cook with us. How does that sound?”

Wonwoo was speechless. Yet somehow, unconsciously, he nodded his head and agreed to Mingyus offer.

Mingyu grinned, reaching over to grab Wonwoos shoulder and hold it tightly. “Great, we'll start tomorrow night.” The chef looked around his messy kitchen and chuckled. “Finish up here then head home, you have a long day tomorrow.” He said as he started his stride up the stairs.

Wonwoo furrowed his brows but shook away his confusion as he strived to finish his project.

“Mince the parsley into fine pieces. It always looks better when you use it to garnish your meals afterwards.” Mingyu stood over Wonwoos shoulder, watching his every move with hawk-like vigor.

Wonwoos shoulders constricted and tightened the closer Mingyu came to him. He moved his knife across the cutting board, doing exactly what Mingyu instructed him to do with almost frightening ease and accuracy.

“Give me the knife” Mingyu interjected from behind. Wonwoo froze, the knife still a centimeter in the air. “What?” Wonwoo asked in a low, breathy voice.

“Give me the knife. You're so nervous that even I want to tense up. You're going to cut yourself.” Mingyu plucked the knife from Wonwoos hand and set it back down safely. Mingyu inched back away from Wonwoo and let out a defeated sigh.

“Do I scare you that much? Every time I come near you, you tense up and become as stiff as a statue.” Mingyu sounded hurt by the fact that Wonwoo was so nervous to be around him, but the mere fact also made him curious.

Wonwoo merely shook his head. He brought his now free hand up to adjust his wire rimmed glasses that sat neatly on his nose. “I’m just not very fond of talking.” The older man mumbled as he reached over to grab the knife Mingyu had taken from him.

Mingyu half smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned back and watched Wonwoo’s every move, from his knife strokes to the way he bit his lip in concentration. He was intrigued, watching the man before him as if he had never seen him before.

“Do you talk with anyone else in the kitchen?” Mingyu asked, raising his tone an extra octave to seem friendlier. Wonwoo sighed and pushed the finished parsley to the side of the cutting board.

“Sometimes Joshua. But I’m not very close with him.” Muttered Wonwoo as he focused on the next task at hand. He picked up a tomato, examining it carefully before he started to dice it into small cubes.

Though, Mingyu was no longer interested in the kitchen, or really anything pertaining to the food anymore. Wonwoo had caught his interest and it was going to take a lot to shake him out of it.

“Why don’t you talk to anyone e- “

Mingyu was cut off by Wonwoo dropping the knife on to the counter. “I think that’s enough for tonight. We have to be up tomorrow fairly early, so I think it’s best if we both went home.” Wonwoo scurried around, trying to put everything away as quickly as he could.

And before he knew it, Wonwoo was walking away, taking long strides towards the exit, leaving Mingyu to question what exactly had just happened.

        It had been a week after the lessons had begun with Wonwoo, and Mingyu was on the prowl to obtain more information about his star pupil. He had mulled over the words he had said, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan to ask Joshua about the quiet kitchen assistant.

        In the end, he voted in favor with doing so.

        It was in the middle of the day, the quiet transition from lunch to dinner, when Mingyu approached Joshua.

        He had carried various vegetables over to a workstation, where Joshua held deep concentration in the cake that he was decorating. He hummed a song to himself, too enthralled with his work to notice his surroundings around him.

        Mingyu rolled the vegetables on to the counter and tapped Joshua on the shoulder.

        The older man flinched, obviously startled by the sudden interruption of his thoughts. He turned around quickly to see who the culprit was. He had expected Seokmin or even Minghao to be behind him, not Mingyu, who stood too close in the cozy space.

        “Hi Chef,” Joshua said warily, wondering why Mingyu had suddenly come up to speak with him. Mingyu smiled, his smile flashing like a diamond. “Hey Josh.” He said, trying to sound as light and bubbly as possible.

        Joshua furrowed his brows and nodded his head, “What are you doing over here? You never come over.” Joshua said warily, switching his attention from the chef to the vegetables that sat on the counter.

        Mingyu shook his head, taking one of the knives from the shelves to begin his prep. “I came to ask a couple of questions.” He said blatantly.

        Joshua nodded, going back to decorating his cake. “Okay, shoot.”

        Mingyu, taking a deep breath, started to cut into a leak as he thought of what to say. “What do you know of Wonwoo?”

        Joshua halted his icing, stunned by the curious question. “Why do you want to know?” He asked in response, wondering why the chef was suddenly so intrigued by the kitchen assistant.

        Mingyu shook his head, not tearing his eyes away from the leaks. “I was just wondering about it. I don’t know anything abo- “

“Why are you suddenly so interested in Wonwoo?” Joshua questioned, speaking in a low, hushed tone. He was afraid that one of the other kitchen members would pick up on the almost sacred conversation.

Mingyu shrugged his broad shoulders casually as he focused his attention on the leak in front of him, feigning fake disinterest. “He’s on of my employees. Shouldn’t I be curious about who they are?” He said with a breathy laugh, as if he had no other intentions behind this conversation.

Joshua raised a brow, staring at his boss curiously. “He’s worked here a year, and not once have you ever bothered to ‘know more about him’ so what suddenly peaked your interest?” Joshua raised his voice a bit, going from a soft whisper to an almost loud mumble.

Mingyu shook his head, grinning at the young pastry chef. “No reason really, what do you know of him?” He asked the question once more.

Joshua pursed his lips into a thin line, turning away from Mingyu and focusing back on the cake in front of him. “I know that he likes chocolate, cats, and books. I also know that he’s not going to be one of your ditsy playthings that you tote around so carelessly.” Joshua grumbled. The older man quickened his movements around the cake, embellishing the décor at rapid speed as he spoke the harsh words to Mingyu.

Mingyu stared at Joshua in awe. Not once had one of his employees ever spoke to him like that. He was caught of guard by his words, but he couldn’t blame him for saying them. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head slowly. “And what if he was to become one of my so called ‘playthings’?” Mingyu teased, scrunching his fingers up into quotations.

Joshua set down his frosting pipe, fully turning towards the chef. “Why would you use him like that? It’s sick a-“

Mingyu held up a finger to silence him. “It’s a good thing that I don’t plan on it. I see potential in Wonwoo and I plan on training him for the kitchen. I wanted to know more about him before I made a decision.”

Joshua blinked his surprise away, his face flushed red from embarrassment. “You just want to train him for the kitchen?” He repeated Mingyu’s statement, making sure that he heard him correctly.

Mingyu nodded his head, drawing his finger away from Joshua’s mouth. “Yes, nothing more, nothing less.” The chef grabbed his supplies from the kitchen counter and collected them in his arms. Though, before he left, he leaned in to the flustered Joshua, smirking.

“Though, by your reaction, you might be hiding a little something.” He whispered before turning away, walking towards his station at the center of the kitchen.

“Hey Wonwoo, can you chop these for me?” He called out as he got back to work.

Joshua, still staring at the empty space where Mingyu had stood, shaking his head of protruding thoughts and forced himself to get back to work.  

Wonwoo soon came rushing past, answering to Mingyu’s every beck and call.

#seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt #svt fanfic #scoups #jeonghan #joshua #hoshi #jun #wonwoo #mingyu #woozi #dk #the8 #seungkwan #vernon #chan #dino #kpop #kpop fanfic #seventeen meme #kpop meme #seventeen kpop #fanfic #fanfiction #little-chimchim

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Yesterday we returned to our hotel after a nailbiter of an experience losing my Disney pass. The reason for our return was that Rachel was leaving for home. Gettin' on a plane and flying outta Orlando.

Appetizers… is part of how we marked the occasion. The other part was realizing how it's quite the blustery day outside. "Blustery" as in maybe the first moves of a hurricane 'cause they just cleared everyone out of the swimming pool.

Now, I just said "hurricane" because that's all I know of Florida and bad weather. What's actually happening, though, is that there's lightning afoot. The thunder that seems to be working its way closer to us makes that perfectly clear.

Not Haunted Mansion thunder, by the way.

Real-as-it-gets thunder.

Very much approaching.

So there's that.

When it's time to go, we're all walking out the door together, down the elevator, along the back of the hotel… at which point there is a lot of thunder.

As in a lot.

We figure that's just Florida throwing a tantrum 'cause Rachel's leaving. Which makes as much sense as anything 'cause this used to be a very sunny, hot day. Like, a couple hours ago.

By the time we reach the front of the hotel, Rachel hails her rideshare and we kill some time taking a bunch of photos of Kimmer and the girls who, most of the time, are making faces.

Okay who am I kidding?

Kimmer was making faces too. 😉

And then Rachel's ride's here and it's hugs all around as we see her away. ☹️

Then it's our turn to hail a rideshare, Linzy, Kimmer, and me.

So now it's five and we're on our ride when, sure enough, the rain starts. Okay the rain pours. I mean serious downpour and we're driving in it… and into more of it. As in there are times when visibility becomes problematic. The road ahead obscures.

It's like that throughout the rest of our drive. Rain, rain, and more rain. Dumping like buckets. To the point where we all realize that we're exclusively dressed for summer weather.

Whoops.

I mean, seriously.

When we arrive at Epcot's rideshare drop-off, it's still raining. And in one of the sweetest moves ever, our driver offers us her umbrella. She actually offers to give us her umbrella.

I won't lie. That really was sweet as hell.

But.

We are, each of us, Seattle born and raised. We can do this no sweat.

So we decline this most generous offer, bid our fare-thee-wells, throw open the doors, and dash from the car to a nearby bus shelter, under cover with a lot of other travelers, most of whom are draped in parkas.

Kimmer gets into a conversation with a woman who works at the park and brought her own parka because she knew it was gonna rain even though the day started out as probably the hottest and sunniest so far.

By 'n by, the rain abates and we can see a section of sky where it's a sunny day. So we walk boldly into such rain as there is under all the overhangs along the path into Epcot. And then we duck under Spaceship Earth with, well, everyone else who just entered the park.

We notice how all of them, most of them, are wearing parkas as well, so, spying a nearby gift shop, we check to see if we can score some for ourselves.

Of course all those people underneath Spaceship Earth had to get their parkas from somewhere, so… the gift shop was absolutely, positively sold.

Out.

Bummer.

We are from Seattle, though. Also, we know blue sky is on the way so we boldly step out from underneath Spaceship Earth on our way to a dinner in France.

We're not even to the lake when Kimmer orders up a red wine sampler along the path. On her way out, cup in hand, she strikes up a conversation with a couple who's also just scored some tasty wine. The husband's in a motorized wheelchair and talks about how earlier in the downpour he gave his little girls a ride. Piled 'em up. And drove off.

Just like that.

It's also his birthday so we wish him the happiest one.

Now previously, we scored some mighty tasty fillet mignon at the Canada cart. So we move right passed it this time, a few minutes later landing in Ireland for sausage and mashed potatoes.

At this point, the rain's completely stopped and the blue sky is pulling into place right above us.

Ish.

Cross the bridge into France and Linzy dashes ahead to that bakery where she scored that heavenly chocolate mousse the other day. Meanwhile, we stop short at the France cart for Coc au Vin with Pommes Dauphine. Top it off with Creme Brulee with Grande Marnjere for dessert.

Perfection.

Linzy actually grabs a table for the three of us where we can have our meal together. For us, an entree and dessert. For Linzy, just straight up dessert because she just scored three baked chocolate sweets with plenty of frosting.

When dinner comes to its end, we head back to the front of the park to catch the monorail to the Magic Kingdom.

On our way, offers to play photographer whilst we ham it up in front of Spaceship Earth. 🤣

By the way, I always enjoy the monorail between Epcot and the Magic Kingdom. It's a lovely light rail experience in the sky.

Especially as the sun goes down.

Now we're walking down the ramp at the Transportation Center. Our options at this point are to head up the ramp on the other side of the monorail station... or catch the ferry.

I'm thinking monorail.

Kimmer's thinking monorail.

Linzy, however, suggests the ferry. And since it's how we began this particular Disney adventure, it strikes me as the perfect idea provided we catch the one at the dock right now.

We do catch it, by the way. We are, in fact, last ones to board, climbing the staircase to the upper deck as the lower one's filled up.

That ferry ride across the lake to the Magic Kingdom is one won't forget anytime soon. The sun was actively setting at that moment and we were literally experiencing magic hour on our way to the Magic Kingdom.

It was breathtaking.

Once inside the gates, we head straight for that Starbucks halfway up Main Street U.S.A. on the right.

Why?

Well, because the two frosted baked sweets bought in France are melting inside the thin cardboard box holding them.

And that won't do.

So we're looking for a plastic container or cup with a lid to keep those tasty treats in one piece.

Ish.

After that, Linzy heads to an Adventureland or Frontierland gift shop for a friend whilst we split another Dole Whip Pineapple Swirly.

Now, we're in the last hour of the park being open. No worries, though, because we only have one item on our Last Thing To Do In Disneyland lost.

Big.

Thunder Mountain.

Railroad.

What can I say? This ride is the most iconic of all our Disney family adventures. The reason for that's because it's the one consistent ride across both parks. It's the same ride in both parks, neither one better than the others. Which makes it the perfect touchstone of our collective family memories.

And right before we enter the building on our way to the front of the line?

Yeah.

Pyrotechnic artistry begins exploding above Cinderella's Castle and Fantasyland.

The timing was exquisite.

And pretty wonderful to take in between the three "mountains" that define the ride.

After Big Thunder Mountain, Linzy wanted to walk over to Fantasyland where, provided she didn't care about the the projection mapping on Sleeping Beauty's Castle, she'd have a better view.

Which.

She.

Did.

She got magnificent, slow motion video of the fireworks expanding dramatically above us.

Okay.

Kimmer had been talking Peter Pan's Flight since the previous evening when she 'n I experienced it. And, with magnificent fireworks video captured inside her phone, Linzy decide to give it a go.

So we all jump into a sailing ship and soar high above London together.

And then we're done.

Oh sure, we tried to sneak into the Seven Dwarfs Mine ride... and we were almost successful... but alas. We got busted and sent on our way.

This time, instead of using a hidden side street, we walk back down Main Street U.S.A. 'cause Linzy has one more friend for whom to shop. Not before we snap some awesome photos of Sleeping Beauty's Castle, though. 😉

After that, a Collison-Ris innovation. You see, it costs a bunch to get back to our hotel from the Transportation Center. Plus, there's a lot of people also calling in rideshares. So chances are we've gotta lotta waiting in front of us to which we're not looking forward.

Woof.

The innovation is, since the Disney buses connect all the resorts to the parks, we can take a bus to the resort closest to our hotel for free... and then call in a rideshare.

Linzy figured out which resort that would be, Saratoga Springs, 11 minutes from our hotel, so we joined the long line of people at bus stop 17.

It didn't take long at all, delivering us home in about 45 minutes.

Quick fun fact:

On our way down the sidewalk along the side of our hotel, we crossed paths with a New York chef. He was moving awfully slow and awkward using crutches.

You see, he had knee replacement surgery on his left knee three months ago... making his left knee his good knee. In the meantime, his right knee... is I'm pretty bad shape.

Two months... 'til it gets replaced.

Now the reason this is a fun fact isn't because he's a chef. And it isn't because he's from New York.

He's from the Bronx.

And he speaks like he's from the Bronx, if you know what I mean. He didn't just say his family's three-bedroom was a castle, he emphasized how it was a fudging castle.

Only he didn't say "fudging".

And then we were back at our rooms. Linzy did some laundry. We watched the Big Bang Theory Disneyland episode. The ones where the girls skip out on their jobs for the day and get made up like Disney princesses at the park.

And then like that!

We're asleep.

When I wake up this morning it's not the 530AM I've been doing all week long for our Disney Days. It's 930 in the morning and I've got that song "Remember Me" from Pixar's "Coco" playing sweetly I'm my head.

This.

Was a slow morning.

A slooooooooow...

Morning.

Kimmer's easing into the day out on the balcony. Linzy's taking her time packing.

By 10:45 she's got it all wrapped up and we're sitting around the kitchen island for homemade breakfast sandwiches 'n Trader Joe's lattes while looking over yesterday's Dispo photos from Linzy's camera.

Stunning. Is all I can say.

Gorgeous.

Beautiful.

Inspired.

Delightful.

Totally pro quality.

So yeah. Turns out I have a bunch of things to say about those pictures.

After, she showed us the latest from Ariana Grande (the song that starts with a looper) & Bruno Mars (his most recent with that specific seventies vibe) before we all left the room to walk to the front of the hotel for a few final family photographs and our last moments together...

...before her ride scooped her up.

Took her away.

And then...

It was just the two of us.

🙂

#disney #disneyworld #disney vacation #vacation #vacation stories

[jstmymagination]

After he dropped Marissa back off to A Safe Place he met up with Tohr at Havers clinic. Tohr wanted to speak with him to possibly get more details about the condition of the patient and the attack. Hello, May I help you gentlemen, said Havers head nurse Julie. Tohr respsond yes, we would like to speak to MD if he is in. He is scheduled to be back in about 5 mins if you guys have time to stick around and wait. They both obliged. Havers finished his transfusion bandaged his arm and rolled his long sleeved shirt back down. On top of that he put on his lab coat check himself in the mirror and headed back upstairs to resume the rest of his day. When he came around the corner he was greeted by 2 of the kings men. One of them being his brother in law Butch. Hello Gentlemen what May I assist you with evening? We would like to speak with regarding the attacked patients Ahh yes, we can step into my office. A few steps up the hallway and they were inside Havers office. The space itself was very cold the walls were covered with degrees from Harvard School of Medicine on his desk sat an MacBook to left of that 2 iPads a phone equipped with intercom and a to the right two 4 x 6 picture frames turned face down. Yes Gentlemen take a seat... I’m sorry if the information I provided to my sister wasn’t quite detailed enough however that’s I all I have to go on. Did anyone of the victims mention where they were or what they were doing when the attack happened. Unfortunately not, by the time they make it to me they are so badly beaten and drained, that the memory is scattered. Well if you hear anything please let us know. Butch started clearing his throat.. how would you like to join us for dinner sometime doc. We are family are we not? I’m willing to leave the past in the past if you are? For my shellens sake I’m asking for you for a family dinner just the three of us, whaddaya say? Havers was completely shocked by the gesture but did accept his brother in law invitation to dinner. He could tell that the warrior was grateful for his acceptance by the look on his face. Yes , I would be honored to have dinner with you and my dear sister. How about this coming Friday night? Friday it is. When they got back in the ESV Tohr looked over at Butch who was looking straight ahead and asked.. what was that about? Butch said would you believe me if I said I have not a fucking clue.. Something Marissa said today at lunch got to me.

How did you get through so many volumes? This stuff so boring. It’s not so bad once you learn my system. The first hundred or so pages are always going to the story of the warriors parents & their lineage. So that’s a blah, blah, blah... bore, bore, bore The next hundred pages always focus on the rearing, training and everything taught prior to them going through the change. I.E. more blah, blah, blah. This is why we want to start each volume on or around page 300. That’s where all the good stuff or need to know information starts. Great let’s skip to page 300 then. Not quite yet ..each of these journals are 500 pages long. You still don’t want to read those 200 pages, trust me. So then the next step is read pages 300 to 350 then skip to page 400 read to the end. I promise you my system works. You will learn everything you NEED to know about each warrior without being bogged down in the minutia. And if you have any questions I will be here to fill in the blanks. Shall we get started then.. Five hours later Lassiter pulled his head out of one of the journals and to see Pea looking stressed and uncomfortable. Are you okay? Yea just a little tired today has been long for me? Can we call it night? Sure you can go ahead up and I will pick up with you tomorrow. Pea went down the hall to room that had been assigned to her. Once inside she locked the door and went straight into bathroom to run warm water in that ginormous bathtub. Her joints were stinging and the make matters worst her stomach was growling. The smoothie only calmed it down for a little while how on earth was she supposed to make it another 20 days. After Pea added some lavender bubble bath she eased down into the water and said a silent prayer for relief. While she sat there she thought about all the people that lived in the house and how they greeted her with open arms.. particularly the queen. Wrath had not only settled down but made an aire to the throne. My how times have changed anyway I can’t afford to take any chances at this time, I have to stay on course. With that thought she closed her eyes and tired to relax.

Ahh yes we will have stuffed chicken, creamed spinach, garlic mashed potatoes for the entree and please make sure we have plenty of alkaline water. Also his favorite dessert is yellow cake with chocolate icing I would have a fresh one made as well. And then a bottle of scotch for my hellren. I think that should do it.. we will be using the private diningroom at A Safe Place it’s a little intimate setting so May I ask that you freshen up the linens on the table. Yes madam Fritz replied. Marissa had asked Fritz to assist her with her brothers' dinner because she wanted everything to be perfect and let’s face it perfection was Fritz's middle name. Even though the night was upon them she still couldn’t believe that her brother had agreed to have dinner with her and her hellren. Havers arrived promptly at 6:30 carrying a little box of treats no doubt they were macaroons. He knew that they were his sisters favorite. Marissa let fritz answer the door because her nerves were in ball. When Fritz escorted Havers through the door Marissa kept a poker face but she was mortified at how thin and frail he looked. Havers had never really been a big guy but he always carried a good amount weight on him... being 6ft 1 his body was well toned and full of definition. The person that stood in front of her now.. looked nothing like that. Greetings Brother mine, thank you for joining us for dinner. I am glad your hellren extended me the invitation When Marissa reached for her brothers embrace she tried to hold back the tears in her eyes. I’ve missed you, Havers And I have missed you my dear Marissa, here these are for you Come let’s sit down. Havers had to take a step back and he realized that Marissa hellren was dressed in a suit. The guy cleaned up very well. Man that lab coat adds 20lbs to him butch thought This guy is small, hell he looks like he could use a trip to the doctor. As Marissa and Havers reacquainted themselves with each other, Fritz began serving the meal.

Hi are you guys doing yoga today? Pea asked Bella, Mary, & Beth when she came downstairs. I would like to participate if y’all have room from one more body. Since it was going on her second week there Pea body had began to ache all over. Her senses were super heighten and she could feel herself becoming more aggressive. She knew exactly what or should I say who was responsible for triggering all of this. She could smell him through the walls even though they were separated by two floors, she could feel every moved he made. Those dark spices when he emerged from his room in the morning that poured all over him and Beth. The scent spoke to her like a mating call and her body was starting to respond. She could feel him as he approached the steps, hell at last meal she could smell his breath as if she were right in his face about to kiss him. This house is too small she thought, when he open his mouth to talk she immediately began to moisten in between her thighs, her pulse increased, she began panting for breath and her nipples instantly harden to the point that they were poked through her shirt. Her body was totally aroused and she couldn’t control it. Pea knew that she couldn’t let that happen again so instead of sitting down to any meal with the family she either made up excuses, or she would time it so that she’d be outside the house walking or on a pretend phone call. Tonight yoga would be the perfect distraction. Staying busy and pushing through the pain was name of the game. This would all be over in another week. Then she could go back to regular unbothered life. I missed you at last meal are you okay. Oh yes, I just had another meeting I have to stay ahead Of the curve. Fashion and time stop for no one..

Lassiter was so thankful for Pea her tips truly saved him from months and quite possibly years of reading. He notice that she had made herself right at home, like everyone else does that enters this house. When he went looking for her yesterday to get started, he saw that she was having tea with Mary, Jane & Manny. They appeared to be caught up in a debate over the show Fixer Upper with Chip and Joanna Gaines. Who’s the boss and who has the brains?! Pea & Manny were team Joanna for both Boss and Brains while Mary and Jane were team Chip. The show never really appealed to Lassiter much. He slowly backed into the study and started without her. Lassiter was trying to think of the best way to repay her. He couldn’t just let her go back to the city and never touch base again. That just wouldn’t do... maybe he could get Fritz to organize a going away brunch.. since Pea always drinking a beet smoothie, or beet juice. Come to think of it.. he rarely saw her with anything else. Hey Lassiter, I’m going to participate in the yoga class with Bella and the ladies, do you mind? Not all.. if I have any questions I know where to find you. Okay thanks. Hey.. what were you thinking for dinner? And before you answer I don’t hear anything that start with the word beet. Pea let out a little laugh and said fine... I hadn’t thought about it.. you pick and I will eat. Cool, have a good workout. Thanks! Pea left the study feeling more nervous than ever. How was she going to choke down any kind of food.. for one she didn’t have any type of appetite and for two.. even if she did.. her teeth were aching her so badly that she wouldn’t be able to chew it. She would have to think of a clever way to stall him out.

Marissa was so happy with the way dinner turned out for her Butch and Havers she had been a giddy mood all week. Havers had come with fully open arms it was obvious that he had missed her as well. They talked before, during and after the meal, after all it had been two years since they last spoke to each other. She learned that he still visited his late wife parents every Sunday just like he did when she was alive. She also learned that he had began toying with the idea of training another physician to help assist him with his workload. Between births, injuries, sickness and crime.. he was busy around the clock. That cause concern for Marissa because Havers was unhealthy himself. She didn’t want to get into the blood transfusions that he was administering to himself but she knew that issue definitely had to be addressed soon. Havers prolly went from a healthy weight of 200lbs prior to his shellen dying to the 125lbs that sat across from her at the dinner table. Butch was also caught by surprise when he realized that they both were Red Sox fans... they both preferred a good scotch to any other liquor and both like the same types of music. At one point during the evening Butch even referred to him as bro-n-law. Havers also informed Marissa that the families of the glymera had decided to hold their annual crown ball. Traditionally meant for highest and Nobelist families to pay ridiculously amounts of money to rub elbows with King and Queen for the evening. It included fine dining and dancing. However since the king took so long to ascend to the throne.. and even afterwards the tradition was halted. So now that Wrath has taken his place and disbanded the old glymera counsel. The newly appointed heads of each family decided it was time to start holding the crown balls again. Marissa was surprised when she heard about it and wondered if the King and Queen would be willing to participate. The donations would help her add additional rooms on to A Safe Place. After that they all agreed that they would do it again real soon and Marissa was anxious to call him now. I never thought I of all people would be saying this but I kind of feel sorry for the guy. Butch said to Rhage, V, & Phury for years I’ve wanted nothing more than to kill him for what he did my wife but after hearing his story it’s kinda hard to hate the bastard. Phury looked over at Butch and said so he’s been in mourning all this time? Wow. V chimed in as he sat back on the bench press machine and said he has been in mourning times 2 don’t forget the young. Rhage stopped the treadmill ... I can’t begin to imagine life without my Mary or Bitty but it still doesn’t excuse the fact that he put Marissa out just before sunrise. I’d hate to be in your shoes. Then to top things off We have stuff in common... V he’s a Sox fan!!! He listens to hip hop not this new crap either I’m talking Biggie, Tupac, Nas, Jay-z.... They all stop what were doing turned to Butch and said in unison Havers?!?!... then burst into laughter. Down in the library Lassiter settled in with a cup of tea and picked up the next journal which was the story of Danger son of Danger. Just as he opened the book Bitty came in with her iPad. Looking for a quiet place to study? Lassiter asked. Yea, my mom wants me learn a second language so I chose Spanish. I thought it would be a lot more interesting than what it actually is. What are you doing? Same thing only I’m not learning a second language, I’m learning about the brotherhood and how it all came to be. Well that sounds a lot more interesting than this. I suppose it does, hey you want to help me plan a party? Bitty perked up. Yes who’s it for? Pea she is coming up on her last week here with us and I’d like to host a going away party for her. Sure I’d love to help with that, but wait I thought she lived in the city. She does. So then why are we giving her a party? Won’t she be coming back to visit us? Lassiter responded, well she’s really busy and I don’t know when we will have time to do this again. Oh okay, I really like Pea, she makes the best beet smoothies not to thick and not too thin. I much rather drink one of Peas smoothies then eat my vegetables, Bitty said with a innocent smile. After yoga Pea sat in the kitchen nursing a bottle of water listening to Marissa tell Beth about the Crown Ball.. to be honest the event sounded like something that could be really nice with the right people in charge. But she knew that even if Beth wanted to attend the big hurdle would be convincing Wrath that this would be worth his time. Wrath loathed any kind of attention from the families of the glymera. He knew that they didn’t care for him particularly because of the woman he chose as his queen was a halfbred. Wrath didn’t give a shit though after all who was going challenge the King. “ Crown Ball does sound like something that could benefit everyone” I know you want me to mention it to Wrath however I think for better affect we both may need to tackle him with this one. I can’t make any promises we both know how my hellren feels about that group of people. Pea left them and went to the study to find Lassiter she purposely sat in the kitchen to stall for time. The thought of trying to eat something made bile rise up in the back of her throat. Luck was on side this evening, by the time she arrived back to the library Lassiter was gone. Pea quickly jotted down a note left beside the stack journals and went to her room. Lassiter couldn’t even focus when Tohr gave out the assignments in the meeting, he was so overwhelmed with the information in the last journal. He knew that every line recorded in those journals was true. Every person, mating, birth, event, fight, every single thing that the Scribe had chronicled was all true. So this in fact had to be. Lassiter had been repeatedly re-reading the last sentence on the last page over and over again. “And the Kingdoms people shall be ruled with Wrath and Serenity” .. when he went back there, he had planned on addressing Pea but instead of finding her.. there was note in her place. “ came to see what’s for dinner but you were gone :( , gone to take shower and relax, maybe tomorrow?” Why couldn’t I see this from the beginning.. She can’t leave this house on Sunday.

Paging Dr. Havers code Blue, code blue Dr. Havers... not again. This happens every time I start my transfusion. Havers stopped the IV pump, removed the IV from his blistered arm, rolled Down his sleeve, grabbed his lab coat and headed back upstairs. These attacks were happening to frequently now.. im having a hard time keeping up with my treatments. What do we have? Young male just out of change, mom says he went hiking behind his house , he had been gone for 4 hours which was not normal for him. She started calling his cellphone and didn’t receive an answer so she went searching for him. When she got to the edge of property she could see his jacket in the bushes. He appeared to be beaten badly with bad cut to his rib cage. Julie let’s get him in OR 2 he losing a lot of blood. Another long day these attacks are getting more gruesome, this time I had to remove a small part of the small intestines the bleeding and the wounds were just to badly damaged. Since this kid was a lot younger he was hoping to talk to him once he awoke from the surgery. It shouldn’t take long for the kid to recover. Maybe he could get some details to pass along to his brother in law. It still seemed so strange to be on talking terms with his sister. Havers started feeling unlike himself after that 2nd hour of surgery. He actually felt weak.. he knew that he couldn’t neglect anymore transfusions because the outcome could be deadly or even worst than that he could get bloodlust. With shakey hands and a hungry stomach he made it through the procedure then left explicit directions with his nurse that he under NO circumstances was to be bothered. When he got back downstairs in his private lab and removed his lab coat, he could feel a sharp pain starting at his wrist and shooting up his left arm. When pulled his shirt back he could see there was blood clot under the skin at the wrist area. He quickly began rubbing applying pressure to dissolve it. He just wasn’t healing as quickly as he should be and this was starting to be a big problem.

Lassiter had been avoiding Pea purposely for the past few days. He knew her time with him was coming to an end and was trying find another solution. He also knew that she wouldn’t mind because she had become quite found of hanging out with ladies or having tea & gossip with Mary, Manny, and Jane. She actually fit right in here, of course she fit right in she is one of us. After all the reading I’ve done this is what I come up with?nothing, nothing, not a thang. All roads lead back to her. At that moment Lassiter looked up and said out load to no one in particular, Really!! All that reading... with a deep breath Lassiter thought No need to prolong the inevitable. He arrived back at the brotherhood mansion it was right before first meal the doggen had the table set and people were already stirring about inside the house. Quinn and Blay were getting the twins seated in there high chairs. John & Xhex were playing with LW while Beth was helping the doggen arrange all the food. Everyone was slowly making there way to diningroom everyone except for Pea that is. Lassiter went down the hall and knocked on Peas room door... Pea heard the knock and said one second. The pain she was in this morning was the worst!! Nothing was working anymore.. she had to leave this house today! She gathered herself as best she could and answered the door. Oh Hi, I wasn’t expecting you this early, what’s up? Lassiter for the first time could see the pain in her eyes.. we need to talk. Okay sure, I was wondering when would I see you again... Pea opened the door and went back to sit in the edge of the bed. I have a question for you and I need the truth. Okay. Whats your question? What is your name? Lassiter you know my name... Lassiter began shaking his head back and forth don’t bullshit me, I know the name you gave me which is Pea.. But what is your name your real name the name given to you by your mahmen at birth. With deep exhale Pea stood up and said fine.. my name is Serenity.. Lassiter went to the velvet high back chair that sat across from bed and dropped in the seat like a log. He starting scrubbing hands down his face leaned back and said you cannot leave. Pea looked over in his direction and said we had a deal. I know we had a deal but that was... No, no, no... no buts... our deal was I train you for three weeks and no matter WHAT you found out I get to leave and walk away. I cannot let you leave!! Holding up the journal he asked what does this say? Tell me what does it say?! I am very capable of taking care of myself.. this is not about you taking care of yourself. Tell me what does it say? Wrath and Beth are going a great job... they don’t need me. Lassiter calmed himself and said...Pea, look at yourself? Is pain getting any better? Do you think it is just gonna go away?! Sweetheart that’s not how this works and you know it... you cannot leave this house. I will be fine! You won’t be... I’ve managed this long... You’ve managed because you weren’t in the company of the only other person that is just like you... you can’t stop your transition... Fine... I’ll leave now..and send for my things.. I need to get back to my life anyway. Pea.. was so frustrated she walked out of the room without even grabbing her Birkin bag. As she got closer to main diningroom she could feel Lassiter behind her ... aren’t you going to at least tell them goodbye? I think they deserved that much Pea turned around shot him a nasty glare and headed towards the dininroom. Everyone was there and breakfast was in full swing... perfect she thought to herself just what need a bigger audience.

Good day everyone, I just wanted to stop in to say my goodbyes. I have to leave today, I have emergency that needs my attention. I didn’t have time to gather my things Lassiter will drop them off later. Beth and Wrath I thank you so much for your hospitality my stay here was perfect in every way. Pea turned to Lassiter and said I’m ready. Lassiter gave Pea a level stare and said I must do what is best for the good of everyone. He then stepped around Pea and said to Wrath she cannot leave this house. It is a matter of life and death, it is not safe for her... you have to order her to stay! Order me??!!, I will be fine No you won’t, you are in pain as we speak! Do you think those baths are going to stop this process? I will be fine. You will die? You don’t know that... I can take care of myself. When is the last time you ate a meal? A full meal? Do you think those beets are gonna help you get through this? Wrath cut in, Lassiter if she wants to leave I will not make her stay... Thank you Wrath... Fine... you want to leave? I will personally drop you off myself but first tell him your name. Tell him your birth name given to you by your mahmen.. and I won’t say another word. Pea looked at Wrath and spoke in the old language ... “my name makes no difference a Queen has been chosen”.... knowing my name changes nothing... At that moment everyone at the table who understood the old language stopped eating and slowly turned their heads and faced Pea... Then tell him.. Pea spoke in English this time.. my name is Serenity I am the daughter and only living child of Sir Danger son of Danger the highest princeps the last surviving member of the last founding family. The next sound everyone heard was a loud crash of a fine sliver tea set hit the floor. And the person who dropped it? Fritz! The doggen stepped across the mess of spilled tea, cream and honey and walked towards Pea with both hands over his mouth. Tis you? Pea looked at Fritz with a tear rolling down her cheek and said yes its me. As she reached her hand to touch his cheek she said in the old language your sacrifice saved me..my protector.. my servant, my friend and I live because of you. Then she turned to face Lassiter and said I will leave now.

Before could Lassiter could respond.. Pea started walking toward the front door. Need a ride? Yes please. And then she was gone.

Fritz , frazzled turned to face Wrath.. apologies sire. I will have the mess clean right away. His servants snapped into action. Meanwhile everyone at the table was totally silent.. some from shock and the others didn’t know what to say. Wrath handed LW over Beth , backed away from the table and headed towards the stairs with George in tow. Without saying another word one by one all the brotherhood got up and followed suit. Lassiter and Xcor being the last two to enter his study. As soon as Lassiter entered Wrath asked... how long have you known Sounding exhausted Lassiter responded... a few days now... And you just now saying something. How can you be sure it’s her... Lassiter pulled out the journal flipped to The last page and gave it to Tohr... who then looked at it and read it aloud “and the kingdom... Wrath cut him off and finished “shall be ruled by Wrath and Serenity... But still how can you be certain it’s really her? The Scribe Virgin left the address to store she owns in one of the journals. I found the address and checked it out before I read the journal. I went there located her and we made a deal that she would help me with translating all the material left to me. In return after three weeks she could leave no questions asked. This was before you found out who she was? Correct Zadist spoke up... why do you think she is going to die? She hasn’t been through the transition yet.. someone said wait how is that even possible? another Fuck.. came through the crowd Lassiter looked over at Vishous who’s response was let me guess. My mom had something to do with this? And from what I gather, she was fine until she came in presence of the only person that could trigger it. Lucky Me.. Wrath said So what do we do? V said to Lassiter I don’t know, all I know is that if we don’t do something she will die. Butch spoke up and said.._Well there are plenty of men that I’m sure would be happy to assist her with getting through the transition, hell we have a house full of single men all she has to do is chose. It’s not that simple, Tohr responded. Then Wrath spoke up, It has to be me.. it’s my duty. As your king I believe in being totally transparent with you especially because you all are my brothers. Then Wrath took a deep breath and said. I need to save her.. I can feel it in my chest... She can’t die. So then Xcor said... what’s the move?

Downstairs the ladies were trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened. Beth sat back in her chair and asked who is Serenity daughter in Danger? Both Bella and Marissa started speaking at once... Serenity... the both looked at each other... Marissa spoke first.. long story short.. she is the female version of Wrath. She is the last full blood female vampire. Bella started talking by this point. According to our scriptures and everything we were taught... That whole family was murdered in the war that took place in the old country. I’m talking no survivors much like Wrath’s family was. So then how did she survive? Beth asked. At that time Fritz, who had re-entered the room clear his throat. Ah-hum... Madam if it would not offend I can answer that question for you. Beth quickly summoned Fritz to the table to have a seat.. please share with me.

Balthazar, Of all people... she ended up in the car with Balthazar. But hell anything to get out of that house and off of that mountain. She had been so successful for centuries keeping her true identity a secret and now that was all over. However she wasn’t about to worry about it because there were more pressing issues. She was not well, her joints were on fire and she felt like she was hit in the mouth. So where are you headed? Balthazar asked. You can just drop me off at my house. Okay After a moment or two of silence Balthazar said, I need your address and you don’t look well. He was right Peas health was declining fast. I live off of Wallace avenue and yea I know.... more silence more driving. Pea tried to adjust herself in the seat to find some comfort however nothing worked. Once on Wallace avenue Pea said White House black shutters. Balthazar pulled in slowly and Pea had never been so happy to see her home. Do you need some help inside, yes please. Balthazar put the car in park then opened his door and went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Pea. She was able to brace herself enough so that she didn’t have to put all her weight on him. He started walking her in the direction of the front door but she remembered that her keys were in her Birkin that she left at the mansion. Through the garage.. huh... let’s go through the garage, I don’t have my keys. Keys, Balthazar said with a smirk, who needs keys? We are not breaking into my house, we can use the keyless entry pad and go through the garage door. Fine we can do it your way... Pea went over to the keypad that sat at the top right panel and was painted the same color as the garage door she punched in the code 0820 and the door been to lift from the bottom. Inside her truck was right where she left it untouched... Nice Balthazar said looking at the Bentley truck.as they were walking past it he nodded his head towards door the opened to inside of the house. Can we get in there? It should already be open and it was. Pea was able to make it to her kitchen table on her on. I’m the last person to get in anybody’s business but are you sure you don’t want me to call someone. Because no offense but you look like shit. Well thank you and I will be okay I just need to get some rest. Okay well then I will let myself out and don’t worry about closing the garage I got It. So Pea sat the table another 10 minutes then stood up went back to the kitchen door opened it made sure that her garage door was closed, which it was then she closed the kitchen door and locked it. She used the security keypad in her kitchen to set the house alarm and then she went downstairs. Pea had purposely purchased a house with a basement for this reason alone. She was to a point where couldn’t protect herself due to her body trying to transition. The basement door had separate keypad which used a fingerprint for entry once the door disengaged the lights on the stairwell automatically came on ... Pea took her time and went step by step because the last thing she needed was to slip and fall. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs she could see the bed promised to be comfortable and to her right she opened the door to the bathroom... the full bathroom was nice addition to the basement because Pea didn’t have to go up 2 flights of stairs to shower. She looked at garden tub that was in the corner but she was wise enough to not try getting in there. Instead she turned on the shower water hot as she could stand it. She removed her clothes and got in. The hot water felt amazing on Peas skin but she could barely stand so with one hand on the safety rail She reached and turned the water off. Pea stepped out toweled off as best she could and put on her emerald green satin bathrobe. She took 2 steps out of the bathroom and toward the bed before her knees turned to jelly. Pea cried out in pain & fell to her knees in agony. Breathe deep just breathe deep she thought to herself. You can make it to the bed, you got this,.... Pea laid on the floor for another few minutes or it could have been a few hours before she tried to move again. This time instead of standing she crawled to side of her bed. She pushed the covers back and brushed the pillows to other side... you can do this.. you can get in bed... on the count of three girl let’s do it... 1...2...3 PULL.... Pea pulled herself up got in bed and pulled the duvet up enough to cover her waist on down. She broke out into a cold sweat as a sharp pain ripped through her gut... she thought well this is it.. this is how I will die and then passed out.

Havers gave himself one transfusion per day over the past three days and that seemed to be working. He started feeling more like himself, he was able to get rest which helped his energy levels return back to normal and he even had a little bit of an appetite. So by all accounts he was doing good. He had spoken with his sister who had informed him that she had spoken to the Queen about possibly participating in this years Crown Ball. They had a meeting with Wrath set for tomorrow and overall she was very optimistic about it. They also scheduled a lunch date with each other for Friday afternoon she would come over to the clinic this time. Havers hadn’t thought much about the menu but he knew all of his sisters favorite foods so that part was easy. Hi Dr. Havers the patient in room 4 has awaken, Okay that’s good Julie I will be right in there. The patient from last night was found by her neighbor dehydrated and disoriented. Dorothy stated she hadn’t seen her for a couple days and she couldn’t get answer on the phone so she walked over to the house to do a warfare check and there was Ms. Hunt sitting in the her favorite chair in front of the tv completely disoriented. Dorothy called out to her a couple of times before she turned her head and made eye contact. Dorothy called Havers and he sent over the ambulance to transport her to the clinic. That’s one downside to out living your spouse and growing older if you can’t afford doggen or a caregiver, the elderly are left to fin for themselves and unfortunately Ms. Hunt was showing all the signs of dementia. Hi Ms. Hunt how are you doing this evening? I am fine. Good, do you know where you are? Yes Dr. Havers I’m at your clinic. So you know who I am then. Yes sir, you are Dr. Havers. Yes ma’am and do you remember how you got here. The elderly woman got quiet Havers could tell that she was trying to remember what she did last but was having no luck. Ms. Hunt it is quite alright if you can’t recall all that matters is getting you back hydrated and healthy. Havers told Julie to put in a call to A Safe Place and explain the situation he was sure that his sister would be able to assist the women. Back in his office Havers felt a little peckish so he started eating some white rice made with coconut milk and covered in Ginger sauce. It was the only thing that he could keep on his stomach. He was hoping all the starch would help me out some weight back on. His mind rain back to the old women and her situation she had not been the first elderly patient that he treated for dehydration but her condition had definitely been the worse. It was a bummer not having any children or relatives to help take of you. Havers thought about how they took care of his mahmen until the very end. Then he glanced over at the two 4x6 pictures frames that were faced down on his desk. The pain was still fresh as if it happened yesterday and all he could do was just stare at the two objects that held what was left of a life he once lived. Someday he will have the strength to either stand them upright or put them away for good.

There was knock outside of Wrath’s office door before he could asked who is it, Beth answered it’s me Wrath we need to talk. She is the only person that could ever get away with interrupting a botherhood meeting. Meeting adjourned, you may enter . John opened the door and was the first out followed by all the rest. Beth said to them stay close by I won’t be long. Beth let everyone out then she walked in with LW on her hip, her hellren back up from his desk and stood to greet her. LW reached for his father as he always did and Wrath happily accepted him into his arms. Wrath sat back down in his chair and Beth sat on his lap. You have to save her Wrath... I know who she is and what she was meant to be. She is too important to the out race to let go, she belongs here with us. Wrath pulled his leelan close nuzzled his nose close to vein in her neck that he fed from and whispered I love you and I don’t deserve you. With a giggle Beth put her hands on the sides of her hellrens face and pulled him in close kissed him and said ... Let us go so that you can get back to work. I will send everyone back inside Beth opened the door thank everyone for their patience and sent them all back inside. After everyone was back in the office Wrath said we will be going to get Pea. Lassiter do you know where we can find her? She left in the car with Balthazar Xcor said, I will hit him up and see where he took her. Xcor called Balthazar put him on speaker right then.. What’s happening? The female Pea left here with you correct? Yes I dropped her off on Wallace Ave, White House black shutters.... after a moment Balthazar added if y’all going to get her, y’all might want to hurry because when I left there she was in bad shape. With that the line ended.. Lassiter spoke up I have the address and Butch said we have been there before I can get back there in no time. Wrath said I’m coming with you, I have too. With Wrath coming that meant all hands on deck. The brotherhood along with the band of bastards would be on high alert. We will meet downstairs in 10mins let’s move. With that everyone left the office went and put their gear on. Rhage walked into his room and saw Mary laying across the bed even though he received direct orders from the king he was drawn over to the bed. He couldn’t help himself... He bent over and dropped his big chest against Marys little body.. she greeted him with a smile on her face and said well hello you. To what do I owe this pleasure he bent down to kiss either side her neck and all of a sudden he felt need to feed. He fought the urge kissed her and then pulled back up to face her. You smell amazing..did you change shampoos or soaps? He let up off the bed and headed towards the walk-in closet. We have to go get Pea and bring her back here.. so I will be gone for a while. Okay, I’m happy that Wrath has decided to have her brought back here. Yea, he is actually coming along this time. With a yawn Mary said please be careful honey. Always, I love you and I will see you when I return. With that Rhage shut door and headed towards the stairs. When he reached the bottom he was joined Zadist, Phury, Butch, Zcor, & Quinn. Within minutes everyone else was there and they were loading into a series of vehicles. When the king left the mansion everyone was on top of their shit. . As they road Wrath was mentally preparing himself for the worst remembering how badly his transition and beat him down. 10mins later Butch was making the right intron Wallace Ave when they pulled into the driveway. Vishous through up an mhis then The security detail got out and swept the area first before Wrath’s door was opened. Once everything in the perimeter was clear Tohrment opened the back door for Wrath. He got out and head straight for the front door Wrath hit the doorbell a couple of times and then said to Vishous we have to get inside. She has a security system wire to house let me see if I can bypass it, the last thing we need is human law enforcement to show up. Balthazar started speaking as he walked closer to the porch go through the garage the code is 0820... I dropped her off earlier remember. So they went to garage door tohrment put in to code and door began to lift from the bottom. They all walked passed her Bentley truck to the door that opened into the house. This time it was locked But Vishous had no issues bypassing the alarm from the inside. He opened the door that led into the kitchen and Wrath made a beeline pass him to the door that lead to the basement. She’s down here open it! Vishous said this one has a fingerprint keypad may take a minute. The next thing Wrath heard was a large bang which was V using his fist to completely knock down the keypad. Tohr said it still won’t open so they stood back while he kicked the door in. The lights on the stairwell flickered on and off as Zadist went in first followed by Butch & Rhage then Wrath after him Phury, Vishous & Tohr. John, Quinn and Balthazar remained at the top of the stairwell for security protocol. Once they got to the bottom they saw Pea in bed overcome with fever, washed down in sweat. Everyone positioned themselves in a corner of the basement making sure they each had full view of the door. Wrath pulled back the Duvet carefully so that he wouldn’t expose any of her private areas and then he did his best to swaddle her with the top sheet on the bed.. he carefully placed one hand under the middle of her back and the other under the bend in her knees then as gently as he could he lifted her up off the bed. He turned around and sat down so that she was in his lap. Pea could smell Wrath but she was too weak to open her eyes, she wanted to tell him no please don’t try to save me. But her throat was so dry she felt like she swallowed a cotton ball dipped in Habanero sauce. When Wrath bent down to pick her up she could feel his hair and smell those dark spices all over him. Her fangs elongated for the first time. Even though her mind was screaming no, no, no anybody but him.. her body was reacting otherwise. When Wrath lifted her up she let out a little grunt from the pain... then she felt him sit down Wrath heard the grunt and whispered I’m sorry as he placed Pea in his lap. Wrath scored his wrist and held it up to Peas mouth. Pea you need this to survive please open for me. He rubbed his wrist across her mouth but he could tell that she was fighting her natural instincts to feed. Pea could smell Wrath’s blood but would not feed. Instead she opened her mouth fought through the pain in her throat and whispered “Beth is Queen”. Wrath responded yes Beth is Queen and the Queen sent me to get you please drink. He put his wrist back to her mouth but she gave another grunt and turned her mouth away from Wrath. Pea repeated “Beth is Queen”... Wrath knew what he needed to do. Wrath licked his wrist to seal the two punctures then pushed his hair back to expose the vein in his neck then he titled Peas face back toward him. In the old language he said, “ My Queen take from me what you need to nourish your body, as your King I am here to serve you” then he moved her up against his jugular vein and said” Now feed from my vein so that we may become one”. With that Pea lifted her head opened her mouth and struck Wrath hard. When Pea struck Wrath a force of raw energy and light emitted from them that was so strong it shook the house foundation and blew the men up against the basement walls. Wrath’s iridescent eyes were glowing at this point and he looked massive. Pea drank with great pulls she could instantly feel Wrath’s blood coursing through her veins. She took as much of Wrath’s blood as her belly could hold, released his neck, licked the wounds and passed out in his arms. Once Pea passed out Wrath stood cradling her close to his chest... looked around at his men whose eyes were also glowing and gave two orders. Rhage & Z grabbed the chest At the foot of the bed and let’s move out NOW! Butch hit the stairs first followed by Rhage & Z carrying the chest then Wrath carrying Pea after him Tohr, Vishous and Phury. When they got to the top of the stairs Quinn, John & Balathzar had recovered from the house shacking and were ready to lead the way back out. The force of energy that came out of Wrath and Pea had set off car alarms and had dogs barking & howling up and down the block. Xcor radioed to V we need to move now my guys smell trouble. Roger that let’s move guys everyone keep your eyes open. Butch, Tohr , Wrath & Pea were inside the ESV in under 30 seconds. V & Phury took Peas Bentayga and Everyone else loaded back into the same vehicles they arrived in. Just as they were leaving Pea came too this time she was able to open her eyes... Wrath tilted his head to one side again and spoke “don’t try to think just feed from me my Queen”... again Pea couldn’t control her hunger she struck Wrath’s vein hard again and took everything he had to offer. This time Wrath tried to brace himself for it but it was no use as soon as Pea struck his vein the force of raw energy shot from between them and this time they blew the transformer at the end of the block. Butch put on the high beams and followed Quinn out. Pea released Wrath after a few pulls completely satisfied. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her. When they got to the end of the block Wrath said to Havers, she has to go to Havers. Tohr radioed the change to everyone and Butch made the left to head over to Havers. Vishous went ahead and called into the clinic to reserve the private suite that was meant for exclusive clients like them. Wrath stayed there when he was shot rescuing Beth and then Butch had stayed there when the Omega got ahold of him. Now they needed it again this time for Pea. Havers would have questions as he usually does however this time Wrath was there to do the talking. The ESV pulled up to the clinic Ehlena and Havers nurse Julie were already standing outside under the breezeway waiting with a wheelchair. Julie was a trained professional and had been exposed to many different types Of people working in the clinic. Members of the glymera, older aristocratics, government officials but never the King. She tried her best to keep her composure when Tohr swung open the door to ESV hopped out walked to the back door and opened it. However inside she wanted to jump up and down and scream as if she was at a Beyoncé concert. The King emerged from the back seat and he was massive. Aah follow me your highness... Julie turned the wheelchair around and quickly walked back up the breezeway. They walked through private entrance, entered the hall passed through a door label Janitors closet, once they got in there Wrath had to turn sideways to pass through the air tunnel holding Pea. In the room Wrath carefully placed Pea on the gurney and stepped out of the way. Ehlena quickly took Peas vitals while Julie grabbed the needle and tubbing to start an IV. We are going to start her on some fluids Dr. Havers will be in shortly. Where is he now? He is finishing up with a surgery then he will be right over. Wrath turned to Ehlena and said I can not wait call me when he comes in and then walked back out. Pea felt the slight sting and the cold fluids going into her vein, her body had taken a real beating and she needed rest. Ehlena and Julie worked together to unwrap Pea out of the sheet and remove her bathrob and put it in the dirty laundry basket. They put a hospital gown on her and began to chart all of her basic info. Julie wanted ask Ehlena who this women was but she didn’t want to overstep. Maybe Dr. Havers would be able to fill her in, he was a part of the glymera surely he would know who this women was. Wrath and Tohr entered the hall to exit the building they met Lassiter walking in. Don’t worry I’m just here to sit with her. Are you sure that you want to do that? Yea, I owe her. Lassiter entered the same doorway that he saw Wrath and Tohr come out of. He walked by the monitors then entered the air shower. When he got into Peas room he was greeted by Ehlena and another nurse. Before she could ask him any questions he quickly told her that the king ordered him to stay with the patient. Ehlena followed up with “he’s apart of the kings private staff it’s fine” ... When they both left Lassiter went and stood by Peas beside. The transition hadn’t really changed her much that he could see well except for fangs of course but you couldn’t see those. He whispered to himself, You are something special aren’t you? Then he took a step back and went to sit in the recliner in the corner found the remote and turned on tv. Let’s see what’s on the boob tube.

It had been a long time since Havers received a call from the Brotherhood requesting his assistance. He wanted to be there to when they arrived however he was smack dab in the middle of another surgery. It looked like someone took a sling blade to this poor guys chest and abdomen. The brother Vishous had informed him that there would be someone coming from the kings private staff to assist with this patient. He finished up the surgery which turned out to be an intensive 5 hour ordeal, then while he was on his way to his office to change a code Blue came in. and that sent right back in the OR for another 4 hour surgery. When he was finally able to leave there, he went to his office changed out of his OR scrubs took a quick shower to refresh himself, dressed in his normal attire. Grabbed his lab coat and headed towards the private suite. As he passed by the nurses station he saw Ehlena sitting with Julie and invited her to come along with him that way she could chart while he examined the patient. When they entered the little room Havers checked the monitors and could see there was someone sitting with patient. He reviewed the notes taken when the patient was triaged by Julie, it appeared to be a normal transition nothing major he passed it off to Ehlena and started to get dressed to go through walk through the air tunnel. Havers opened the door to the Air Tunnel an was greeted by a tall man with piercings and black/blonde hair. The man was apparently introducing himself but Havers couldn’t concentrate because there was an aroma in the room that was absolutely devine. It smelled like shea butter, winterberries and peppermint he knew he should be focusing on what this man was saying, as he is a member of the Kings staff. But he was too intoxicated by the lovely scent, ... I’m merely here to sit with patient, per the Kings orders. Havers nodded his head yes in response to the gentleman then stepped around him so that he could get a view of his patient. The patient lying before him i

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9 best Mexican food restaurants in the San Fernando Valley for takeout, delivery – Daily News

One of the family activities that has helped pass the days during the forced quarantining of the pandemic has been taking field trips with my daughter, every couple of weeks, to the Me Gusta Gourmet Tamales factory in the north San Fernando Valley. (Located at 13754 Van Nuys Blvd., Pacoima, 818-896-8789, www.megustagourmettamales.com, for those who might be curious.)

We go there because my daughter lives for tamales, maybe her favorite food in the world aside from Carmela Chocolate Sorbet. We regularly buy a bagful of tamales, always chicken, and always pineapple. They freeze very nicely. And along with the quesadillas we make at home, my fine chicken mole, and my tasty guacamole, they give us a taste of the Mexican cooking we crave as Southern Californians. More than hamburgers and hot dogs, this is the cuisine of our part of the world. And very reassuring and soul-satisfying it is too.

Like many of the best Mexican food experiences, tamales are easy, casual, just plain tasty and they don’t demand a great deal of formal consideration. They bring back so many memories: There were the elote corn cakes, for instance, which women sell from baskets they carry on top of their heads in towns way down south on the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. There were the quickly grilled steaks which I’d eat in the marketplace just off the Plaza de Garibaldi — mariachi square — in Mexico City, which come with quickly braised green onions called cebollitas. There was a red snapper, pulled fresh from the Sea of Cortez, rushed to a pan, and then to my table, on a small peninsula called Isla de las Piedras, just off Mazatlán. And then there were the grasshoppers — chapulines — I became so fond of munching on as I’d stroll around the Mercado de los Indios in Oaxaca.

I’d be less than honest not to admit that the grasshoppers I’d munch on down in Oaxaca were really very good. They were sold from large baskets by women who’d hunker down near entranceways to the market. People would buy a small paper package of grasshoppers to eat as a snack as they shopped, or to take home as a treat for the kids. The grasshoppers were relatively small, not much larger than M&Ms, and sprinkled with salt, chili powder and a bit of lime juice.

I remember feeling very brave and adventurous when I bought my first package of grasshoppers. I also remember taking a tentative nibble on a leg and finding it edible, before moving on to more significant parts of the insect. They reminded me of croutons in their taste and texture, and although they haven’t become a mainstay of my diet, for me eating grasshoppers is a socially acceptable practice.

Grasshoppers are found in the Mexican restaurants of Los Angeles, but not in many of them. Many of our local restaurants do carry dishes that break away from the litany of tacos, enchiladas and burritos. Not that there’s anything wrong with tacos, enchiladas and burritos. Or tamales either. This is comfort food at its finest.

And, as with Me Gusta, the food travels very well. While there is some getting out and about these days, we may be mostly stuck at home a bit longer. Use some salsa to give your life the spice it desperately needs. A face full of hot peppers does wonders to distract you from bingeing on the news. Too much CNN can be toxic. Too much salsa — not so much. And it’s good for you too!

For this carefully curated list, let us begin with a taste of the past:

Carne asada and chorizo tacos make up a colorful Mexican food entree. (File photo by Brad A. Johnson, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Burrito Guadalajara with slow-cooked carnitas and a side of rice and beans is a delicious, filling meal for lunch or dinner. (File photo by Cindy Yamanaka/Orange County Register/SCNG)

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Combination plates are a staple of Mexican food dining. This one features a pork chile verde burrito and two beef and potato taquitos. (File photo by Nick Agro)

A chile relleno stuffed with white fish is a must-try Mexican food option. (File photo by Brittany Murray, Press-Telegram/SCNG)

13301 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks; 818-788-4868, www.casavega.com

Here’s an homage to a restaurant that’s been serving tacos and enchiladas to a loyal following for more than six decades. As it says on the website: “Casa Vega is…one of the longest continuously family owned restaurants in all of greater Los Angeles. Casa Vega’s roots go back to famous Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles. Rafael “Ray” Vega opened Casa Vega in 1956 after being inspired by the success of his parents’ earlier restaurant, Café Caliente, which was on Olvera Street and operated throughout the 1930s.”

This is — much like Lawry’s, Musso & Frank, El Cholo, Phillipe the Original and many other local legends — a restaurant that, sooner or later, we all go to. It’s part of our culinary heritage, the thread that runs through life in Southern California for longer even than the freeways.

Casa Vega remains a fine place to go for the Mexican dishes so many of us grew up with. And what I grew up with was the notion that Mexican food existed almost solely as a combination plate. There’s much more here, of course. In the middle of the menu, there it is — the #1 House Combination and the #2 House Specialty Combination. Both include Spanish rice and refried beans (and the inevitable chips and salsa as well), and a choice of two dishes for #1, or three dishes for #2, selected from a greatest hits list of enchiladas, tacos, tamales and rellenos.

The sweet corn tamale is always a good choice; ditto the grilled chile relleno. One bite and the years fade away. The guacamole is good, freshly made, not chopped too much — and chopped less in the hand-chopped option.

I have a closet love of queso fundido, which does little to help my diet, but does much to sooth my soul. It’s basically a plate of melted cheeses, with sour cream added on for good measure, and beef chorizo.

There are two appetizer combos — enough chow for a light meal shared by two, with a margie or two added on for good measure. Those in need of something more serious might head for the pollo en mole — with a choice of red or green mole. Or maybe the seafood enchiladas, filled variously with crab, shrimp and lobster. There’s no ceviche on the menu. But there is a shrimp cocktail that comes close.

Casa Vega opened in 1956, and the Ventura Freeway followed in 1960. To pre-date the 101 is an amazing accomplishment. It’s a great thing.

10717 Riverside Drive, Toluca Lake; 818-927-4210, www.cascabelrestaurant.com

This is not the Tex-Mex, enchilada-and-taco, rice-and-beans chow from back in the day. This is Mexican cooking with an edge, with style, with panache — drawn from a menu that will make you want to order everything you can, at prices that (like the shots of tequila) can add up if you go hog wild.

And speaking of hogs, the most excellent guacamole comes three ways — classic style, topped with slices of radish and mixed with smoked bacon, which adds both flavor (lots of flavor, both bacon makes everything taste better!) and texture. Crunchy guacamole is a fun concept — more restaurants should give it a try.

Ditto the scallop agua chile, a very tasty variation on the much more common shrimp agua chile, which is essentially a dish of crudo marinated in a sauce that’s both acidic (to “cook” the seafood) and potentially very spicy. Though my sense here is that the kitchen’s opted to turn down the fire a notch or two — which is wise; the delicate flavor of good quality scallops would be overwhelmed by too much pepper.

The scallops sit on the section of the menu dedicated to ceviches, five of them, though only the albacore ceviche tostaditas are from the usual school of ceviches. The rest run to a lobster and beet ceviche, and a dish of marinated white anchovies with avocado and lime. There’s a shrimp cocktail too, only in this case, made with a charred tomato sauce. Small touches like that — culinary trim tabs that are small, yet change the whole dish — are everywhere: in the jicama and pepitas in the burrata salad, the lemon-goat cheese cream with the beet salad, the maitake mushrooms used in the tostadas, the chile honey sauce with the fried chicken, the roasted radishes (yes, radishes again!) with the braised pork carnitas, the tangy cotija cheese in both the roasted cauliflower and the sautéed string beans.

There’s a taste for the many peppers of Mexico here — you’ll find morita chiles on the menu, along with chile verde, guajillo, chile arbol, serrano and the namesake cascabel chile.

If there are dishes I dream of, along with the room itself, they would be the Mexican corn bread topped with melt-in-your-mouth short ribs, pico de gallo and salsa verde. And the Mazatlán bouillabaisse of mussels, shrimp, scalper and scallops with white beans — sort of a south of the border take on what you’d get if you combined bouillabaisse with cassoulet.

14902 Victory Blvd., Van Nuys; 818-786-0328

Have you ever had a cemita? There are cemitas to be found all over Los Angeles. But as a rule, you have to go to a cemitas shop, a cemitas stand or a cemitas truck to find one. It’s a bit like a hot dog — though it may appear on a restaurant menu, it probably won’t. And, indeed, most of the places that offer cemitas, offer mostly cemitas, perhaps with a smattering of tacos. But mostly, this is not a dish buried among a multitude of other dishes. It’s a cemita — and those who hunger for a cemita want only a cemita, want only a cemita.

And what is this wondrous dish, for which fans have an obsessive need that has them waiting on long lines for their culinary object of desire? It’s…a sandwich. A torta. A dish eaten by hand — though it will very possibly fall apart, and crumble into the basket in which it’s served, for the cemita is not a simple sandwich.

This is not a slice of ham and a slice of cheese on white bread. This is a dish much beloved in the city of Pueblo, which is why it’s known as a cemita Poblana. The bread is a softish roll, made with egg, which gives it a brioche-like texture. The roll is often seeded. But mostly, the roll is filled, packed, stuffed, jammed with…stuff. Almost certainly there’s avocado, onion and chiles (either jalapeños or chipotle). It may have cilantro and radish.

If in season, it will have an arugula like herb called papalo. And, of course, it will have meat and cheese, a world of meat and cheese. Though on the menu at the Cemitas Poblanas Don Adrian on Victory Boulevard, there’s the option of getting your cemita “traditional” style, with no meat — sin carne. Where should the cemita novice begin? Well, the pollo adobado cemita is a wonderful starter — a marinated chicken sandwich with all the fixin’s.

There’s a breaded chicken (Milanesa de polo) as well. And the lamb barbacoa is a thing of wonder — so moist, so well spiced, so substantial.

You’ll notice many of the cemitas are made with head cheese, which is a bit of an acquired taste, a bit like Spam — you love it…or you don’t. If you feel like The Big Cemita, get the “La de 100 Percent,” made with five meats!

16856 Sherman Way, Van Nuys; 818-988-2700

The menu, extensive as it is, inspires a fair amount of over-ordering. Did I need both a ceviche and a seafood cocktail? Not really, since they’re close culinary cousins. But the prices are so good, I couldn’t resist. You can get raw oysters, along with pata de mula, which translates as “mule’s foot,” and is also known as a “blood clam,” because of the red color of its liquor — a shellfish not often found in LA. But here it is. You can get it in a cocktail as well as raw on the half shell. For those of us who like our seafood uncooked, this is a bit of heaven.

And for those who need a modicum of heat, no worries. The fish tacos served here, utterly greaseless and very tender, make me wonder what I’ve been eating in the multitude of “I Heart Fish Tacos” joints out there. Ditto the tostadas, topped here with shrimp, octopus and a mix of fish and shellfish. The experience is one of eating the real deal, the food found at a really good casual fish house way south of the border, that gives you an idea of how unfortunately Americanized so much of what we eat can be.

Though it’s easy, and tempting, to eat small dishes here, there are 18 plates as well, all served with rice, French fries and salad, built around a nicely cooked bit of seafood — lots of shrimp dishes (the shrimp in garlic sauce is about as good as it gets, the grilled shrimp blessedly undercooked), up to big combos like the shrimp, octopus, abalone and clams.

And if you have a yearning, do get one of the big caldos, soup-stews packed with much of the menu, from a simple fish soup, up to a Seven Seas Soup that covers all bases. Do be careful with the crab legs, which can splatter, and leave stains that don’t wash out with ease, if at all.

As at Café Vega, Melody’s Mexican admirably clings to its roots in the past. This is a restaurant that does most everything it does the old way — a way that brings back wonderful memories of big plates of rice, beans, guacamole and tortillas, with endless amounts of sundry salsas and condiments from a convenient self-service bar, and substantial portions of just about every dish found in the Northern Mexican canon of dishes.

I guess you can order light at Melody’s — though it isn’t easy. There are 10 platos fuertes, and about the same number of combinaciones — dishes that will leave you well-filled even hours later. Consider the retro pleasures of the enchilada and hard shell taco combo, for instance, with a choice of meats in the taco, made using that eternally crunchy taco shell we all grew up with, that’s been replaced for so many with a soft taco shell. It tastes, simply speaking, of history. And it falls apart when you bite into it. Just like it did back in the day.

If you want to further experience the ability of the kitchen at Melody’s to maximize any of the dishes, try one of the seven tortas — tasty Mexican sandwiches on crunchy French rolls — the biggest of which is the Reseda Special, a gut-buster of a sandwich packed with chopped steak, grilled onions, mushrooms, Monterey Jack and mayonnaise, with an accompaniment of beans, sour cream, tomatoes, onions, jalapeños and avocado. It costs all of $6.85. Finishing it all can be serious labor.

The menu rambles from soft shell tacos to hard shells, from quesadillas (try the model with poblano chiles, very tasty) to tostadas — one of which, the salpicon tostada, is described as “Our Known Specialty.” The tostada verde offers the annotation, “This Will Become a Favorite.” This is the sort of pleasantly naïve menu writing that warms the cockles of the old heart.

If there’s a single dish that dominates the menu, it would be the burritos, which approach the size of the fabled Hollenbeck Burrito served at Manuel’s Original El Tepeyac Café in East LA, which isn’t so much a dish as it is a construction project. There are burritos served dry, and burritos served wet (topped with cheese and salsa), though in all cases, they’re far too big, and too messy, to actually pick up and eat like a sandwich.

A burrito mojado de pollo pretty much took up the whole plate — and it wasn’t a small plate. There was a considerable topping of mild ranchero sauce, and stretchy melted jack, covering a softish tortilla, inside of which was what seemed to be at least half a chicken breast, cut up, and waiting for salsa and cilantro and chopped onions from the salsa bar.

The presence of rice and beans is ubiquitous. And the beans are honest and thick — these aren’t nouvelle beans, but the sort of beans you might find at a stand in a Mexican market. Which is to say, rich with flavor and texture, beans in excelsis.

Rosarito Fish Market Deli

1534 San Fernando Road, San Fernando, 818-361-7227, https://easystoremanager.com/flashmobile/productdisplay.aspx?loc=1382

The much loved — and for good reason — Rosarito is less a market, and less a deli, than it is a hugely popular, noisy, cheerful, joyous fish house. It’s a restaurant that wouldn’t be out of place on the beach in Mazatlán, or near the bars in Cabo. Coming upon it in a San Fernando mini-mall would be a surprise — were it not that so many great restaurants in the Valley are found in mini-malls.

If you crave simplicity, and a sort of culinary purity, you’ll do well going for the seafood cocteles — big ice cream sundae glass, packed with fish stuff, onions, lime and sauce. There are eight of them, all of them giving you a lot of fish for the money, all coming in two sizes: medium and large. (There is not a small. Kind of like olives.)

Most of the cocteles include camarones — shrimp — perfectly textured, fully flavored, nothing bland here. You can get the camarones all by themselves if you wish. Or mixed with octopus, oysters and abalone. Adding oysters makes for a fun mix of textures. Adding octopus and especially abalone makes for a chewy experience. Not a bad one. But the abalone in particular tends to need some masticating. It always does.

There are lime slices on the plates, along with a tostada, and some little plastic packages of crackers. You get crackers with pretty much every dish on the menu. I guess it’s just a tradition. And indeed, those tostadas can also be found as a dish on the menu, topped with a dozen different seafood options — including imitation crab (I don’t love surimi, but I guess it’s how it is goes these days; real crab is becoming a serious luxury item, and faux keeps getting more real) and my favorite Mexican seafood dish, aguachile, which I’ve loved since I first encountered it lo’ these many years ago.

In case you haven’t encountered the wonders of aguachile, in its original form it was just camarones (of course!) flavored with chile peppers, lime juice, salt, cilantro, cucumber and onion. It’s essentially ceviche, but with a lot more heat — it can be downright combustible in terms of peppery goodness. At Rosarito, it comes six ways — traditional camarones, camarones with octopus, camarones with scallops (*callo de hacha”), camarones with octopus and abalone and so forth. It’s one of those dishes that seems too hot to eat on first bite. But then, your mouth settles in for the ride. And it’s a good one.

For a restaurant that only dates back to 2004, it has the look of a venerable culinary institution that’s been around for decades, centuries even. It’s a classic Mexican restaurant, a restaurant of the old school, with a many-paged menu of small dishes (“botanas” — not all of which are especially small), ensaladas y tostadas, sopas, platos fuertes, Molcajete Sol y Luna, seafood, platos populares, burritos, rolled specialties, a la carta, seasonal, side orders, desserts and of course, a full line of margaritas, and tequila-based drinks.

There are, as is often the case, easy ways to deal with the sprawl of the menu. For openers (and perhaps for the whole meal), get the appetizer platter (“serves 2 to 4,” it says) of quesadilla, sopes with carnitas, mini potato and chorizo tacos, chicken wings, nachos, taquitos dorados, flautas, beans, sour cream, guacamole, cotija cheese and pico de gallo. Plus the requisite chips and salsa. Which is a pretty big feed.

Of course there’s an oversized order of nachos — that pretty well goes without saying, for Mexican restaurants of the old school love to create nachos mountains that tower over the table. In this case, the corn chips are topped with refried beans and melted cheese, ranchera sauce and guacamole, sour cream and pico de gallo — with the option of tricking the whole thing up with steak, shredded beef, carnitas, chicken or shrimp. Once again, it could be a meal in itself. But for most, it’s just the beginning.

If you want to stay on the lighter side of the menu (where the options are a bit limited), try the large bowl of ceviche, made with either shrimp or fish. The grilled halibut salad is a lighter option as well. And obviously, so is the “Light & Delicious Fish Mexican Salad” — the fish is grilled, but the salad is made with jack and cotija cheese as well. Let’s just say, it’s lighter than most. But then, this isn’t a restaurant built around culinary denial.

This is where you go for abundance. Which is defined by the Molcajete Sol y Luna — a dish for two, or three, served on a hot stone — steak and chicken, shrimp, cactus leaves and panela cheese, scallions and peppers, rice and a choice of three beans, and of course tortillas. It’s not so much a dish as it is a show.

And though it’s the biggest dish on the menu, it’s not the only major plate. I like the pescado a la parrilla — a whole grilled trout, served with veggies cooked in garlic butter. The camarones a la diabla are properly spicy. And the dozen or so burritos fill up the plates upon which they arrive.

If you have room, the flan is just fine. And the crème brulee — called “jericalla” — is a treat. There’s Jell-O under the desserts as well. Like I said, old school. Much older than 2004.

The Village at Westfield Topanga, 6316 N. Topanga Canyon Blvd., Woodland Hills; 818-992-7930, www.xoctequilagrill.com

Along with “tequila,” the restaurant’s name includes the word “grill.” And “grill” is the dominant theme here, for the menu is long and complex, almost encyclopedic in its depth.

There’s an opening page that describes (in very small type) the roots of Mexican cooking in Mayan cuisine, which gave us maize, tomatoes, tomatillos, cocoa, beans, avocados, chiles and more. We’re told XOC was a Mayan queen. And the décor of the restaurant echoes the Mayan pyramids and open-air markets.

The menu says, “Dare to explore.” And so, we do. What we come up with is a nifty platter of crispy tostaditos the size of Ritz crackers, topped with ceviche, shrimp and ahi, with guacamole on the side. There’s a Caesar salad prepared tableside, in the style of Caesar Cardini of Tijuana. There’s a fine mole poblano from Oaxaca, a dish with deep Mayan roots, and a platter of cochinita pork from the Yucatan.

There’s a whole section of ceviches — and yes, I know they come from Peru, but it’s good to have them anyway. And along with the ceviches, there’s an unexpectedly large assortment of seafood dishes, though I’m not at all sure that either salmon or mahi-mahi were known to the Mayans. The dishes are well-crafted — even the complimentary chips are extra crunchy, and come in a brown paper bag, with a big bowl of hard-to-resist salsa.