#this is probably one of those things that only make sense to me

[chrzzboo]

(Un)forgettable Birthday

Summary: You've never been a fan of your own birthday but that changes thanks to a certain F1 driver.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

Note: I'm back from the death 🤪 I know it's been a while and i deeply apologize for it 🙏 but school has been a mess with deadlines everywhere. to make it up to y'all I'm back with a new fic. Enjoy!

Loud music drilling into my eardrums, colorfull lights decorating the place and people’s chatter filling the room. I’m currently at my close friend’s Kika’s birthday party, accompanied by my boyfriend Lando. Speaking of him I don’t know where that guy is but he’s probably doing Lando things somewhere so I couldn’t care less. Right now I’m talking with a few of my friends and the birthday girl herself.

“Wauw Kika you planned this party so well!” “Yes, honestly one of the best ones I’ve been to in a while!” Was heard from Carmen and her sister. Kika smiled “I know right! All thanks to Pierre he helped me plan most of it!” I smiled seeing her happy. “You’re very lucky Kika!”

We continued chatting spilling the tea that we hadn’t told each other yet and were just joking around as well.

I was feeling so comfortable until the topic of birthdays came to light again.

“Y/n your birthday is in a couple of days, what are the plans?” I started moving around a bit uncomfortably on my feet before replying. “Euhm I don’t know birthdays aren’t really my thing.” All the girls looked at me with frowns on their faces. “What do you mean? Celebrating your birthday is one of the most important things in your life!”. I looked at her not very convinced. “I mean it’s just like any other day it’s not like I’ve ever celebrated it. It’s just a normal day for me tbh.” The girls looked at me with a sad smile before Carmen broke the silence. “At the end of the day it’s your birthday so it’s up to you what you do.” I smiled at her thanking her for understanding me.

I quickly changed the subject because it was making me kinda uncomfortable since I don’t like it when other people feel bad for me. So we carried on talking and without noticing that Lando had heard everything despite the loud music.

~~~

Later that night Lando had found his way back to me and we were currently enjoying each others company. Lando had his arms wrapped around my waist from the back while I rested my head on his chest enjoying the vibe around me. Lando kept thinking back about your words from earlier it all makes sense now. Because every single time he had asked you what you wanted to do for your birthday you declined it stating that you were too busy with work. He shook of those thoughts and decided to bring it up again.

“Are you enjoying yourself love?” I looked at him smiling. “Very much!” Lando hums meanwhile trying to figure out how to ask you about your birthday.

“Babe question but don’t get angry please”. I look at him confused “Baby what did you do?” Now fully turning to face him. He pulls me closer and holds me tighter.

“Nothing nothing don’t worry about it! But first promise!” I roll my eyes at him. “Alright I promise!” “Babe say: I promise I won’t get mad at you!” I looked at him annoyed “Lando!” “Alright alright” he took a hold of my hands and started speaking again. “What do you want for your birthday?” I sigh looking at him. “I told you already my birthday is just like any other day so I don’t need anything.”

Well that’s kinda a lie the only truth is that I don’t need a gift from him since I don’t like him spending money on me. But to be honest I’ve never had a birthday party or anyone caring about it. When I was younger my parents didn’t pay attention to me at all so why would they even bother giving me a nice birthday. At uni people only congratulated me with their words nothing much and the same goes to my work colleagues. So that’s why I always told people I didn’t like my birthday simply because I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never had the birthday experience everyone else had before.

“Babe I don’t know who put those words in your head but you’re important and so is your birthday! I mean we’ve got to celebrate the day that my amazing sexy gorgeous girlfriend was born.” I laughed at his words “I appreciate that love but there’s more to that than a simple birthday party.”

Lando looked at me confused before I decided to tell him the truth. He looked at me with wide eyes. He knew that my bond with my parents wasn’t the best but forgetting about their child’s birthday was something he didn't understand.

“Anyways we’re at a party we have to enjoy our selfs and not mop around.” Before he could reply to me I was swept away by one of my friends to go and get some drinks.

Lando kept staring at me watching me disappear in the crowd. “Yo bro what are you doing here all alone? People are gonna think you’re a weirdo or sum staring at everyone like that.” Was heard from his bestfriend max.

Lando stared at max for a few seconds before getting an idea. “I want to throw a surprise birthday party for y/n” Max looked at him confused. “Birthday party? Doesn’t y/n hate them?” “Well yeah but there was a reason for that and all I know is that we can heal her inner child with throwing a birthday party for her. So are you gonna help me?”

Max looked at him surprised, he knew that you two had an amazing relationship but he didn’t expect Lando to do this much for you.

“Alright bro I will but stop staring at me with that creepy smile as if you sitting here alone wasn’t already creepy enough.”

~~~

The following days Lando kept himself busy with all the arrangements for your birthday. Even though he was busy with his work he always found a gap to fix stuff for your birthday surprise.

Currently he was at home on the phone with Max deciding the last few things to finish off the secret birthday party.

“Alright so you have the invitations ready right?” Lando asked his best friend. “Of course all we have to do is sent them out without y/n noticing.” Lando hums “Yeah exactly we have to be extremely careful because y/n always finds out about the smallest things.”

He laughs remembering one time he had planned a surprise date but it was all ruined because you had figured it out, all because you heard him make a reservation on the phone for a restaurant.

“Alright Max send me the invites and I will send them out.” “What invites?” Lando looked at you nervously. “Euhm Max I will call you back.”

Without letting him reply Lando hung up the phone. “Oh baby you’re back early?” You looked at him confused “what do you mean ? I always come back around this time?” Lando gulped hoping you didn’t hear the entire conversation. “But answer me Lando what invites were you talking about.” Lando looks around trying to find an excuse. “Euhm a friend of Max needed invitations and he asked me where I had gotten mine done from my party last year.”

You look at him not very convinced but decided to let it slide. “Okey… anyways let’s go eat I’m starving.” Lando sighs in relief happy that you fell for his lie. “Alright baby you go first I will come right after.”

Later that night laying in bed Lando was occupied by his phone. “Babe can you put that phone down for a second and give me attention please.”

Lando looked at me for a second and quickly turned back to his phone. “One second babe this is important” “But that’s what you’ve been saying all day long.” Without sparing a glance at me Lando replied with a quick “Please baby I will give you all my attention after this.”

Suddenly his phone starts ringing and he goes out of the room to take it but not without quickly kissing my forehead. I huff and turn to the other side to sleep.

The next day when I woke up Lando was nowhere to be seen, so I figured that he went to the gym.

Getting up I went to wash up and get ready for the day. While I was getting ready I got a sudden thought. It’s kinda weird how Lando went from bugging me about my birthday to radio silence in a few days. I brushed it off figuring it was probably because he’s so occupied with racing and all.

Going into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself, the calendar on the board in kitchen caught my eye. Checking the date I got a little sad knowing that it’s my birthday tomorrow.

“Honestly I would sell my kidney to be able to skip tomorrow.” (Dramatic much innit) Sighing I go back to what I was doing.

The next day I woke up without Lando next to me again. I hoped that he would’ve stayed a bit longer in bed to wish me at least a happy birthday.

“Maybe he left a message or something.” I grab my phone but I see nothing. Only a few congratulations from my co-workers and friends but that’s it. Not even from my own boyfriend.

I’m used to be disappointed on my birthday but even then when my boyfriend would congratulate me it would make me a bit less sad but I guess today is going to be full of disappointment. I got out of bed to get ready for the day.

While I was making breakfast I got a text from Kika.

I smile at her message. At first I wanted to decline her offer but then I thought about the fact that my own boyfriend didn’t do shit for my birthday so why not.

“This is the least I could do to get that birthday feeling I guess.” Sighing to myself I reply to her and started to get ready.

~~~

“There she is the beautiful birthday girl.” Kika immediately engulfs me in a hug followed by the rest of the girls.

“Hey why do you look so sad girly cheer up it’s your birthday!” I looked at here with a forced smile deciding not to tell her the truth about Lando and all that.

“Nothing nothing let’s go bestie your wallet needs to spent some money on me.” I smirk winking at her. She gives me a fake angry huff but it's quickly replaced with a laugh since she can’t stay serious for a moment. “Alright girly let’s go!”

~~~

I was having an amazing time but I kept checking my phone with hopes for a message from my boyfriend. But every time I was met with disappointment. I didn’t want the girls to question it so I put on a fake smile and carried on with the lunch date.

“Alright girls it was a nice lunch but I have to go.” “NO!” Kika yelled panicked making me confused.

“Euhm you can’t leave yet we have to get you a cake first girly.” She looked quite nervous.

“You know that you don’t have to right.” I looked at her with suspicion. “Euhm.. I know but we wanted to so let’s go!”

And with that I was pulled into Kika’s car heading to what I assumed was a bakery.

“Francesca we’ve been driving for a while now how far is this bakery actually?”

I stared to get annoyed because we had been on the road for half an hour now and the rest of the girls that were with us during lunch also disappeared but I was too annoyed to even ask about them.

“We’re here girl calm your tits yeah.” I stepped out of the car but I was met with a big building. Looking at Kika confused I decided to ask her about this.

“Girl I ain’t no baker or anything but this is for sure no bakery.” She looked at me sheepishly. “Doesn’t matter girl let’s go in.”

Before I could even reply she dragged me in. The place was dark but I could tell that it was big.

“Kika what in the world is this?” Without saying anything to me she pushed me forward. And before I could question her even more the lights suddenly turned on.

“SURPRISE!!!”

I was shocked I stood there frozen trying to process everything. Everyone that I knew was there: my friends, family, colleagues and most importantly my boyfriend.

I was pulled out of my shocked state by Lando pulling me into him. “Happy birthday beautiful you deserve all of this.” I couldn't contain my emotions and soon the tears started pouring down my face.

“You did all of this?” I looked at him still shocked. He smiled and wiped my tears away.

“Of course baby like I said before you deserve it.” “I thought you forgot.” I tell him with new tears pooling in my eyes.

“I could never baby I’ve been planning this all week long, I told you we had to celebrate the day my sexy and gorgeous girl was born.”

I smile at him slightly pushing his shoulder laughing at his words. I pull him by his collar and connect our lips together.

“Thank you so much Lan this means the world to me.” Before he could reply Kika came in between us.

“Girl c'mon we have to celebrate properly you can eat each other’s faces later.” She winks. “C’mon beautiful let’s enjoy this day.” I smile taking his hand. For the first time in my life I enjoyed my own birthday.

~~~

I had a blast we danced, sang, drank and I even got presents! This day was simply amazing but also a bit overwhelming so I went to get some fresh air outside.

“Here you’re birthday girl, I was looking for you beautiful. What are you doing here alone?”

I smile a the voice of my boyfriend. “I wanted a bit of fresh air it was all a bit too overwhelming.”

He smiled sitting down next me. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to his chest.

“I understand pretty girl, but you deserve all of this you know?.” He said kissing the top of my head. “It’s just nice to finally have a real birthday. Thank you so much baby.” “Of course beautiful today is all about you and I just wanted to show you that you also matter.”

I smile looking up at him. “Thank you handsome for making this an unforgettable birthday. I love you.” He smiles grabbing my face with both of his hands and joining our lips together. “I love you too baby.”

He gives me one more kiss before standing up. “Let’s go back inside pretty girl, and enjoy the rest of your special day.” He holds his hand out for me to take. With our fingers laced together we head back inside.

It’s safe to say that for the first time in my life my birthday felt like an actual birthday and all it took was an amazing man that drives cars for a living to fulfill my wish.

The end.

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #formula one #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando fanfic #lando f1 #f1 fluff #f1 fic #Spotify

[raainberry]

compliments to the chef

Momo x gn!reader

synopsis - momo falls for her new chef’s flavor🤭 (she’s the sole heiress of the Hirai culinary empire and hiring you spices things up a lot more than she intended.)

wordcount - 14K (please don’t say damn when you see the price)

T/W - kinda chaebol!momo - chef!reader - mentions of food, knifes etc… - nothing violent tho - slowburn? but make it angsty? - light cussing - you lowkey hate each other but not really - enemies to lovers? - guest starring bc that’s fun - that’s all i can think of, tell me if i missed anything

Momo sent a polite smile to the man sitting across from her. The fourteenth in the past half hour.

She’s been keeping count, along with the minutes, the grains of rice left on her plate, and the amount of times he’s mentioned one of his accomplishments.

Thirty-three, seventy-eight, and six; in that order. Only two questions about her so far, one if you remove the one about her name.

She almost left right then and there, but the respect she had for her mother weighed her down on that chair. If she wasn’t going to take over the family empire, the least she could do was find a worthy successor.

A soft sigh escaped her as she pushed her food around. Being an only child was way more fun when all it meant was that she didn’t have to share it with anyone. Or get it stolen, according to the venting of her friends when younger.

She finished the few bites left, trying to drown out the sound of his voice by focusing on the flavours. She closes her eyes, appreciating their delicate yet bold dancing on the tip of her tongue.

Maybe it was the boredom clinging onto whatever could keep her mind entertained, but the taste reminded her of herself. A small smile spread across her lips, the first real one of the day.

The next one came when the man asked for the bill. Her lungs could finally grasp the air around her, her nose picking up on the different notes and aromas of the dishes around her.

She sent her compliments to the chef, adding to them a generous tip she had no idea who’s pockets it’d really land in. It’s the thought that counts.

Her senses were in heaven walking out, engraving her mind with a memory that will stick longer than the guy who’d just made her split the bill, unevenly that is.

“Let me take you home.” He said once out front. His hand held the door open to the leather seats of a luxurious car she was too familiar with.

“Oh, no it’s fine thank you.” She declined quickly. “I actually have a meeting scheduled right after this.”

“I can drop you off.”

Momo almost laughed. She found his use of the personal pronoun very funny. She almost forgot he would just be sitting near her some more while the chauffeur did the sexiest part. If the latter were to her taste, she’d have driven off with her.

“I’d rather not.” She declined. “Business confidentiality and whatnot.”

The lie was forced through an awkward smile that he found endearing enough not to question. Relief washed over her when he finally let go of her, climbing into the car, but not without asking her to keep in touch.

Another sigh, a heavy one, loaded with all those she’d held back until now as she watched the car drive away. The pressure was off, but only for a second as her thoughts soon spiraled.

No way she had to do this again… She reached in her purse, looking for the one thing that could get her out of here.

All this junk, where is it—

“You’re awful at lying.”

Her phone almost dropped to its death from the startle you gave her.

Momo had a few questions at the sight of you. Your presence and your eavesdropping were the first, but the white apron half folded around your waist and the cigarette in your hand answered most of them.

“What,” was all she managed to say though, and a smile pulled on your lips.

“I mean, I’m not fond of lies, but when you’re famous for turning your back on business, you should probably come up with a better excuse.”

“Who even are you?”

“Right, I guess that’s fair. I’m Y/n. You’re Momo, right? Hirai?”

“Y-Yeah.” Her eyes squinted, desperately trying to see what you were leading to.

Your name sounded as unfamiliar as you looked, but you seemed well informed. She didn’t like that.

“Nice to meet you,” You greeted simply, eyeing the contrast between her features and the neat clothes on her back, “So how bad was it? You look… Worn out.”

Her chuckle was distasteful, and she tried to suppress its bitterness at the reminder of her lost time. “Awful. The food caught my eye more than he could ever hope.”

You smiled, “He wasn’t bad looking.”

“But he was a bore.” She argued. “Borderline narcissistic too.”

“Deal breaker then?” You guessed, turning her laughter a little sweeter.

“Pretty much.” Her gaze found the ground in a nod before focusing back on you. “I do like it better when it’s a two way conversation.”

“Does that make me cute?”

She scoffed at the brazen question. “You wish.”

“I don’t.” You dropped your cigarette on the ground, stepping on it in a way she found more hot than revolting to her surprise. That cheeky smile of yours was most likely to blame. “Thank you for the compliments by the way. I’m glad you liked it.”

Your bow was quick, desultory out of rehearsed respectfulness. As much as you appreciated her compliments, you had better things to do in the kitchen that could get you some more.

You caught a glimpse of her jaw dropping on your way back in, and it was enough of a sight to revel in for a few days.

—

It took Momo a couple weeks to pick her jaw back up and swallow her pride. It seemed as though the latter was the only thing she inherited from her family, and she managed to set herself apart yet again.

Her parents would have never set foot in your restaurant again. Not that you had lacked respect or anything, but the fact that you managed to set her off balance… Something about it she didn’t particularly like.

Why was she back then?

You asked yourself that same question when you stormed out of the kitchen at her request. If it weren’t for your manager and his speech about image and reputation, you never would have allowed her to interrupt you and abandon your brigade mid-shift.

Hands on your hips, dragging your feet, you walked into the office she awaited you in and felt your voice die down on your tongue at the sight.

Beauty or surprise, either way it came down to her presence.

The way her hair fell down her back, delicate and blending in with the fabric of her perfectly tailored shirt. The sleek black attire formed a shadow, painting a hole cut against her silhouette and into the spring she admired in the sakura tree out the bay window.

“Hi.” She smiled, her voice a fitting melody to the sights now behind her. Enchanting, sure, but odd.

She wasn’t exactly known to be a warm one to strangers. More power to her, you could understand that. But why didn’t it apply to you?

If it weren’t for the stories associated with that voice suddenly popping into your mind, she’d have lured you in. Nothing too bad about them; only testaments of her success. Rumors about the danger surrounding her, setting her apart from her family. You didn’t care for the big industry names, but theirs always had you curious.

“You asked for me?” Your voice rang in the quiet space.

Momo didn’t seem to notice your apprehension, her smile ever so welcoming, “I did.”

It felt as though she owned the place for a second.

“Do you have some more compliments?” You wondered, eyes following her figure as she went to take a seat in the armchair across your manager’s desk.

“I do actually.” She turned the seat to face you as she mused, “That black cod was to die for.”

You nodded, thankful. “Glad you liked it.”

As much as you didn’t like the way her family capitalized on the food you took such care to value, you couldn’t deny their expertise. Even if not a lot to you, Momo’s compliment did mean something.

“But that’s not all.” Her voice pulled your eyes back on her.

You found her posture quite imposing, matching her tone, but her infamous shyness was something she never got around to master. Her gaze held yours but it lacked control.

It was hard to ignore how endearing the attempt looked to you. It just made you want to give her whatever she wanted. Reward her efforts.

“What is it?” You wondered, curious.

What could she possibly want from you? This restaurant wasn’t yours. The only thing you had control over was the kitchen.

“I want you to cook for me.” She said, and you didn’t leave room for a breath before responding, “Excuse me?”

“I meant I’d like to hire you.” She clarified, a smirk dancing on her lips at your transparent thoughts. You tried to make sense of her proposal, but she didn’t waste any time in providing details. “I’m sure you’re familiar—the annual Hirai banquet my mother holds for shareholders. I never cared for the specifics, but I want to do good by her. I haven’t been the best daughter lately so I thought I’d make it up to her by holding it this year.”

It all clicked at the mention of her mother. Of course she wouldn’t be back with her own motives.

The Hirai Culinary Group was an empire. A home to the most prestigious restaurants of the country. All housing different specialties, techniques and themes… Quite a whole lot to manage yet the quality remained flawless. Fifty years of irreproachable cuisine, you could only respect it. If only they didn’t care about business so much…

Those banquets were popular, talk of the town within the industry as it usually set the next trends and whatnot. Make no mistakes, you were tuned in as well. They did bring in some interesting elements, but you hated the way they set it all up. A disguised year-end performance meeting. White collars expecting numbers and being served them on gold plates, horizons and growth perspectives hidden in desserts.

“So she’s actually the one that asked for me.” You smirked, unexpecting of the way she’d wipe it off just a second later.

“No.” She said simply, a serene smile gracing her lips. “Why would she know about you?”

You scoffed. Good point. You could recognize that despite the blow to your ego.

“Fair enough.” You nodded. “But why should I help you?”

“Help me?” She repeated, a hint of offense creeping into her whole being. “I’m offering you to work with me.”

Perhaps she wasn’t that much of an ugly duckling among the Hirai’s.

“My question still stands. Why should I?”

A silence followed your words, hanging low over your heads and expecting the next ones to come out of her. Hopefully they’d be good enough.

Momo’s gaze suddenly drifted from yours, finding interest in her surroundings. A few details she’d noticed earlier, various frames highlighting the establishment’s foundations. She could count three of them : its history, the owner and visibly the most important—you.

“Are you happy here?” She finally spoke, tearing her eyes away from your latest reward.

“I am.”

“I’m sure you are,” she remarked, tone striking a nerve. “Highest rank, valued both within and outside—you’re basically ruling the place…”

“What’s your point?” You asked, growing impatient.

“You’ve hit the ceiling, Y/n. It’s time for a new challenge, don’t you think?”

Silence enveloped you again as you found yourself contemplating her proposition.

Momo took the sight as a sign of her job being done here, and you watched as she left her business card on the desk before gracefully excusing herself; leaving you to deal with your internal struggle.

—

In the days that followed, her offer continued to linger in your thoughts, and with each passing day, the idea of a new challenge began to take root in your mind.

It spread enough to takeover a good portion of it, sending it all elsewhere. Far enough for your closest friend here and sous-chef to notice.

“What’s up with you, you’ve been all over the place lately.” Jeongyeon asked after you nearly knocked an nth plate to the floor.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You met her gaze and it was enough to backtrack on your words “Okay, fine there is something, but… I don’t know it’s pointless.”

The empty pot you were carrying resonated as you put it back into its designated place, partially covering Jeongyeon’s words. “Does it have to do with that Hirai girl?”

“How do you know?”

“It’s the only thing out of the ordinary enough to throw you off your game.” She chuckled, drying her hands on her apron.

Weird way to tell you to live a little more, but okay.

“So what did she say to you?” She sighed, leaning her back against the sink. “What even happened in the office, you never told us.”

“Well…” You trailed off, gettng that business card out of your back pocket. You handed it to her, and it took her a second to notice what it was.

“What are you waiting for?” She scoffed, causing your eyebrows to furrow together.

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever she proposed just accept it, Y/n”

You spotted a hint of annoyance in her voice, but you had trouble seeing if it was about you or Momo. She sure was scrubbing that counter pretty hard.

“Why?” You asked, watching as she practically polished that stainless steel by hand. Something bothered you, and it wasn’t her cleaning technique. “Are you not even gonna fight for me?”

Jeongyeon paused to look at you, catching the slight pout on your lips. Her own twisted along her features in disgust, teasing you, and you let out your first laugh of the day.

“I should be the one asking you that.” She pointed out. “The fact that you haven’t thrown that card as soon as she left tells me enough.”

“I was just thinking about it…” You admitted, only proving her point.

Jeongyeon chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re past the point of even considering it, I mean… You’ve been walking around with that business card glued to your ass for the past week, yet you haven’t told me a thing about it.”

“You think you know me so well.” You grimaced. It was playful, but part of you wanted to provoke her. You didn’t blame her for that small jab at you, but it did hurt to think she didn’t put turning your back on this place past you.

She did know you so well, though. That’s why she continued to argue her point.

“What is there to think about, y/n? The heiress of the most acclaimed and prestigious restaurant chain of the country is asking for you. No sane person would say no, never mind a chef!”

The sigh that pushed past your lips came as far back as your lungs.

“Would you say yes?” You hesitated after a while, but her answer was much faster. “With no remorse.”

“I mean, have you seen her?” She added and you laughed.

“Fine. I guess I’ll call her…” You picked up the card from the counter and stared at her name.

Well… It’s not like she had asked you to quit your job…

—

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

“What?!”

Momo pulled the phone away from her ear at the sheer volume of your voice through the speaker. How unprofessional. Her eyes rolled soon after, once she registered what your reaction held and meant for her plans.

“Y/n, this isn’t some side hustle for your experience.” she sighed, “I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. If this all goes well, you could become our youngest chef in history.”

A point was made. As much as you were cautious of her voice, it seemed you couldn’t do much about the way it managed to get to you. The words she used were ambitious, they spoke to you.

But she failed to measure just how ambitious you were.

“Why can’t I do both?” You finally asked, prompting a string of arguments being thrown to one another. A futile game of ping-pong you were determined to win, only irritating the woman at the other end of the line.

All this whining, it was like dealing with a child, and truthfully you felt like one. Asking for the best of both worlds seemed completely reasonable to you, so why wouldn’t she give it to you.

“Listen, you can’t give your all to something if your attention is split in two.” She said, losing the last bit of patience she managed to keep today. “You can’t expect to grow by splitting yourself in half, and if you think otherwise, then consider my proposal void.”

A small silence fell over the line. She made sense. She was right. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to accept it?

“If you actually stepped foot in a kitchen once in your life you’d know two isn’t even the minimum.” You scoffed.

Whatever you wanted to mean by that… even you didn’t know, but apparently it was worth thinking over as you heard Momo sigh.

The woman closed her eyes to think.

Why couldn’t you just say yes like everyone else she approached. Maybe she should have made you say it back in the office, use that pathetic confidence of yours against you.

Oh how easy you were to read and see through. Pushing buttons was so much easier when people stood in front of her.

That’s why she hated phone calls. How could she know what to say—oh.

The light bulb went off over her head.

Right… That pathetic confidence of yours.

“I’ll step in if you do.”

—

It shouldn’t have been so easy.

All it took was a half-genuine smile, and a simple promise to make things different this year with a focus on the culinary side of things. Sure, she had to admit to scouting the area in search of the most skilled and promising, which eventually lead her to your restaurant, and then… you. But it was all ego strokes. Child’s play.

Part of her was disappointed. She’d hoped for a little more resistance, a challenge promised by your initial tone and attitude towards her.

“Damn it!”

She should be more careful about what she wishes for… Momo sighed, expecting your face to peek in by the doorframe of the manager’s office, and it did just seconds later.

“Momo, it’s not working.”

“What isn’t?” She said, confused. Machinery’s top-notch, brigade is her best, there was no way anything would stop working out of nowhere.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, just come and see.”

Momo stared at you, noticing a smile fighting to make its way onto your lips. She was apprehensive but followed you anyway.

You’d been working on a technical plate : a type of hybrid dish-dessert. An ambitious idea you’d prompted to Momo during one of the early meetings to work the menu out.

Only she had to make it an order. A boring one and near impossible to pull off. She wouldn’t listen, so you decided to show her.

As you led her to the kitchen, you couldn't help but start venting away about everything that went down since the last time she'd stepped foot in there, which was a day or two ago.

"So, first, the soufflé collapsed twice because someone—I won't name names, but it rhymes with 'intern’—forgot to preheat the oven."

Momo sighed internally. Why were you so fixated on every little mistake? Who cares about interns and their mistakes, that’s what they’re here for. She could excuse a non-preheated oven, but forgetting her birthday? Yeah, that Boo Seungkwan is definitely off the list. He had a good run, only regret was he was good with her dogs. And nice maybe.

"Then, the new mixer decided it wanted to be a blender, and let's not even talk about the chocolate ganache incident."

She nodded absently, her mind drifting to the text she received earlier from another potential suitor. The daughter of her family ‘s right hand man, Jihyo if she remembered correctly? The Park’s had a rocky history though, she took note to raise her guard on that one before your voice pulled her back.

"And of course, the sugar sculpture? Total disaster."

Momo glanced at you, wondering if you realized how whiny you sounded. She had bigger fish to fry than a failed sugar sculpture, like figuring out if she even wanted to leave this family business. If it meant she had to deal with one more daddy’s pocket leech…

"On the bright side, we finally perfected the citrus glaze for the salmon, and the guests couldn't get enough of the hors d'oeuvres last night, so I guess the test was a success.."

When you finally stopped talking and walking, she found herself face to face with an… interesting looking thing on a plate.

“What is that?” She said, dumbfounded.

“Oh, that’s the lemon pie thing you asked for.” You answered nonchalantly. “I told you it wouldn’t work.”

“Are you serious?” Her stance and tone changed, cold and threatening like you had the joy of experiencing earlier this month. Didn’t shake you anymore though. The dumb smile on your face was still there, dangerously creeping into a smirk. She couldn’t wipe it for some reason.

“Yeah, that sucks. I guess I lost three hours of my life.” You shrugged, eyes lingering on the edible failure staining the porcelain. “Doesn’t taste bad, though.” You handed her a piece with a spoon you’d clearly already used, and Momo’s stare hardened.

“Fix this.”

Obviously, you would. But you couldn’t let it happen without messing with her first. So you stared right back into her eyes, holding her gaze just long enough to make her doubt and fear the opposite. The tension hung thick in the air, reaching a new high, until she finally broke away and walked off, her frustration evident in every step.

You watched her walk, the smirk now very apparent and mocking her back.

“I’ll do just that, you don’t have to worry.” You cupped your hands around your lips to make sure she heard it, distracting a few chefs around you.

You were oblivious to the looks they threw your way, your gaze was focused on Momo’s retreating figure.

"I'll leave you some on your desk, make sure to try it!” That smirk was evident on your lips, and she could hear it in your voice, feel it getting under her skin.

You were a challenge alright. A damn good one.

—

Momo walked back into the building only days later. You frowned at the sight of her, shoulders obviously tense paired with familiar sour features. The exposed skin told you a lot about her potential whereabouts these past few days. Added to the rumors going around, it didn’t leave that much of a mystery…

“Oh, we’re cooked.” Ryujin, the intern, mumbled under her breath, catching yours and a chef’s attention.

“Yeah, we should have seen it coming.” The chef, Mingyu, sighed, dropping a heavy pan on top of the counter beside you.

“Why, what happened?” You asked, easing yourself into their conversation.

Ryujin’s eyes widened, startled by the interruption. “I uh,” she stammered before Mingyu spoke up.

“Word on the street is, her father set her up with Park's daughter.” He chuckled to himself, making you curious.

“Park’s daughter… The Park branch daughter?” You asked, the name ringing more and more familiar. “You mean Jihyo? Isn’t she managing the H-Lounge?”

H-Lounge was a private, high end rooftop lounge managed by Mr.Park, Mr.Hirai’s right hand man. Big bar, little food, and big walls; a white collar’s favorite and the Hirai’s most profitable branch. From what you knew, Jihyo’s been pretty much running things for years now, her father only still there because of Momo’s.

“Yeah, but she’s on her way to the throne basically. Her dad’s been pushing for her to take the reins for a while now. Old man’s tired.” Mingyu commented, pulling a laugh out of Ryujin.

You squinted, watching as Momo disappeared around the corner to her office.

“Yeah. But didn’t they try to go solo with the Lounge once?” Ryujin asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she recalled rumors from a year ago. “Sounds kinda fishy.”

“And shady.” Mingyu nodded. “Seems to me like Boss Hirai’s desperate to make her stay.”

“Which one?”

You were confused out of your mind, and Mingyu could tell. He was amused when you met his eyes, begging for some clarity.

“Both,” he said. “Power play. Or two birds one stone type of deal. A Park-Hirai marriage would be beyond convenient for him—Jihyo’s a hot head, she could never hold this whole thing together without Momo stepping in at one point, he knows that. It’s the only way he gets to keep both of his most precious assets.”

You shook your head. There was no way. The idea didn’t even match with the Momo you knew. "I don't see it. Momo's way too stubborn and prideful to let something like this happen to her. She's not the type to be manipulated like that."

"You think?" Ryujin asked, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you see how she handles things... Father or not, she won't just bend to someone else's will.”

Mingyu shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes glued on Momo’s figure passing by. "I think she already is..."

You all watched as she disappeared around the corner to her office, and you noticed her shoulders slump for the briefest of moments

It was a slight, almost imperceptible shift, but it struck you deeply for some reason. For the first time, you saw a crack in that impossibly unyielding façade.

A mix of concern and confusion washed over you. Despite the fierce exterior she projected on that comeback walk, there was clearly more weighing on her than she let on. Could Mingyu be right? Was Momo already being pulled back into the company's grasp despite that stubborn pride of hers?

You felt a rush of protectiveness overcome you, but quickly pushed it aside. What a useless, unbased feeling. Momo was fine. She wouldn't let herself be manipulated so easily… Right?

You pondered on the question for a while, but came up with the same answer every time.

She’ll be fine.

You sighed as the day wound down, leaning against a counter. Your gaze wandered to the door to Momo’s office, finding it closed as always. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen nor heard it open since earlier that afternoon…

Was she still there?

Curiosity and concern got the better of you, and you decided to take the opportunity to show her the new and improved lemon pie she’d asked you to fix.

You made your way to her office, the building now eerily quiet. You didn’t wait for an answer before walking in. It was surprisingly dark, only lit by a small hanging light attached to the wall above the desk. This place was such a broom closet… You almost felt sorry for her then remembered what she’d told you.

"Technically this is still the kitchen, this wall is literal plastic."

You mentally scoffed at the memory. You couldn't believe the pettiness of that woman.

"What is that?" Momo asked, her eyes lifting from the paper for the first time in what felt like days.

Whatever was in that plate definitely looked better than the last thing you’d presented her. It held a certain finesse she wasn’t indifferent to.

"It's the pie you asked for," you said, eyes twinkling in pride. “Well, a deconstructed version of it.”

“It’s not what I asked for,” she trailed off, observing the fine details. Her eyes traced the delicate swirls of meringue and the vibrant yellow of the lemon gel. It wasn't what she had originally envisioned, but there was a beauty to it she couldn't deny. "But it's pretty."

You smiled, taking a seat on a corner of her desk as you pulled out a spoon as an offering. A clean one this time.

She was hesitant. Messing the dish up would feel like a crime, but so was leaving food unattended. So she finally dug in, picking up a bit of everything before humming at the taste of it all.

“Tastes the same as the failure, just… so much better.”

Your face lit up at the mention of that failed attempt a few days earlier. You’d kept your word and left it at her desk, hoping she’d have a taste despite the failure. It still had potential, and you wanted her to know.

“You had some?” Your eyes sparkled, and it made you look so much sweeter than you’d been lately. Momo felt herself falter for a second, slipping you a gentle smile before catching herself.

She cleared her throat, lowering the spoon down, the latter clattering on the porcelain as she went for another bite.

“I did.” She nodded. “You were right by the way. It wasn’t bad at all, just… unfortunate looking.”

You were only surprised she was admitting it; and this easily no less.

“So what do we do now? Do we listen to me more, or…?”

Momo sighed, and a victorious smile made its way to your lips before she even uttered the words. “Fine. You can freestyle a bit.” You cheered, and it took a lot for her not to mirror your happiness. “Don’t get too excited. You better follow the menu.”

“Or then what?”

She only glared at you, and the switch in her gaze was enough to turn you down. Or on. [What?]

“I’m kidding. Glad to be working with you.” You said, flashing her a grin that she could only see as cocky.

Momo's eyes rolled in annoyance, getting up from her seat and picking up the blazer on the back of it. As she gathered her stuff, you understood she was going home for the day. It was getting late, the restaurant had closed a couple hours ago and all the staff was gone too. You should get going too, but you feel a sudden pang of reluctance…

“You're going already?" You blurt out, unable to suppress the urge to keep her here just a little while longer.

Momo raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor. "You just shook my hand," she pointed out.

"Well, yes, but..." you trail off, grasping at your brain for any excuse to keep her here a moment longer. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t understand either, but there was something about her presence that you find strangely comforting in the moment.

Maybe it was the lack of noise and chaos in the background, behind the office door she kept closed; only for you to burst it open anytime you had a complaint or an idea.

The silence, the dim lighting, their absence or her presence… Or the fact that she was actually pleased with your work for once. Explicitly at least. Most likely a gas leak you didn’t know about that messed with your thoughts—you couldn’t tell. But it was something.

There was something keeping you glued to that desk.

She was about to leave again, but this time you reached out and grabbed her hand, your fingers closing around hers in a firm grip. Both of you froze, the air suddenly charged with… again, something as you held her gaze.

"You said you'd be stepping in," you blurted out once more, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You weren’t sure what possessed you to say it, but now that it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching as her mind raced to make sense of your words.

When she’d told you she’d step in, she didn’t think you’d take it seriously. That was her first mistake maybe, but to her, stepping in meant overseeing the preparations, making decisions about the menu, and handling the logistical details of the banquet. She never intended to actually cook alongside you, and quite frankly, she didn’t know how you could possibly think she would.

Were you stupid or purposefully getting on her nerves like you so often seemed to enjoy? Didn't you realize she had other responsibilities, obligations she had to take care of over cooking?

This was literally why she’d sought you out.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"You haven't helped once in the kitchen since we started, and it's basically been a month," You retorted, your tone edged with frustration. "For someone who prides herself on integrity, you sure are amazing at keeping your word."

Your words were like a slap to the face, and Momo felt a surge of defensiveness rise within her. Your claims sure were bold for someone who did nothing but defy her words ever since the beginning.

But beneath the anger, there's a stain of guilt, a nagging feeling that maybe - just maybe - you might have a point. From a certain angle, you could say she did kind of manipulate you into working for her by throwing that phrase; or let’s call it as it was : an empty promise.

Momo sighed as she struggled to find the right words to get herself out of this. Your gaze was merciless on her, probing and insistent as you waited for an explanation. Or just admittance.

"I meant overseeing things, making decisions about the menu, handling the logistics, the usual," she finally explained, her frustration evident in her tone. "I still have a million other things to take care of for that banquet, you know. It's not like I can just drop everything and spend all day cooking with you."

She paused, searching your face for any sign of understanding or sympathy, but all she found was a stubborn determination. A refusal to back down from your position. And despite herself, she felt a small spark of admiration flickered to life within her.

"Look," she continued, her voice softening slightly. "I appreciate your dedication, I really do. But you have to understand that I can't just drop everything to cater to your whims. I have a responsibility to my family, to our guests, to ensure that everything goes smoothly. And if that means I have to delegate certain tasks to you, then so be it."

Her words were only met with silence. She waited for your response, bracing herself for another confrontation. But to her surprise, you nodded, a hint of understanding in your eyes.

The relief washing over her heart at the sight startled her. Why did she want to see it? Why did she want you to understand anyway?

"Alright," you said, your voice calm and measured. "I get it. I just... I guess I was hoping for more, you know? More than just orders and instructions. I wanted to be a part of something. Contribute in a meaningful way."

“You are a part of something, Y/n,” she reassured, and the hand she dropped on your shoulder caught you off guard. Her gaze had softened, but it only made you panic.

Here comes the guilt tripping, you mentally sighed, bracing for impact.

Before you could even muster an attempt to deflect the incoming emotional onslaught, she continued, her words flowing with as much determination as you were used to. "You know, this banquet isn’t just another project for me. It may not seem like it, but I care about it a lot. I take it as a farewell, a thank you to my family and the opportunities they’ve gifted me."

You opened your mouth to intervene, to offer some semblance of resistance, but she plowed on, crushing any attempts to cut in. "And not only are you a part of it, you’re leading it, Y/n. I trust you."

The words hit like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. One of the rare times in your life. Here you were, caught in the midst of a heartfelt moment, unable to muster even a hint of humor to lighten the mood. With a silent sigh, you resigned yourself to the inevitable, silently acknowledging her words.

All you could do was drop your gaze, nodding. You almost felt shameful for trying to ignore her possibly having feelings.

“Thank you for trusting me.” You muttered, fiddling with your fingers before looking back at her. “I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Food wise at least.”

Momo nodded in acknowledgment, finally removing her hand from your shoulder. Her feet stuttered before turning away. She’d made it to the door pretty quickly, but a sudden thought halted her tracks.

The sudden stop in the sound of her expensive heels caught your attention, and you looked up at her. Your gaze and eyebrows silently inquired her, and she smiled sheepishly. Another display of vulnerability that made your heart jump.

“Can I bring that home?”

Momo nodded towards the desk, referring to the unfinished dessert you’d brought her. She wanted to take it to her mother. Give her a preview of what was to come in a couple weeks.

The request made you smile. A little happy if you dared to say so. You reached for the plate to hand it to her, only to take it with you as you finally got up from that desk. “Wait, let me get you a takeout box.”

“We have takeout boxes?” She said, dumbfounded. You only stared at her, speechless but not surprised. You could only shake your head, before leading the way to the kitchen.

“I was just kidding by the way, I know we have them.”

She didn’t. Something you proved when you made her search for them. You let her walk around and act as though she had any idea where anything was in that kitchen before she gave up and surrendered to your amused, almost mocking gaze.

You added a few more of the day’s tests and leftovers into the box before packing it all up before sending her home with a smile.

She was nice to be around when you weren’t trying to step on each other’s toes.

—

The dining room of the Hirai residence was bathed in soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over an overly elegant table set for two. The head of the table felt empty with her father’s absence, a recurring one lately as he tended to matters deemed important for the company. Momo usually sat on his right, like she did tonight. Her mother, Mrs. Hirai, took her seat right across. Despite the picturesque scene, a palpable tension lingered in the air. Another recurrence Momo dreaded every day for months now.

Momo longed for the laughter that used to bring her family together around this table. The same one she announced her intent on renouncing to the heiress title. The same seat she’d left holding back tears at the words her father had thrown at her over a year ago.

Mr. Hirai never meant any of them, she knew that. He’d told her that, apologized soon after and long ago. But the thought, the scene, the sound… It’ll always tug at her heart, and dig the tears from deep within.

Momo swallowed hard at the sudden flashback, suppressing the pain. She managed to do that quite well; better as time passed.

The only problem was how she still couldn’t say a word at this table.

Conversation flowed in fits and starts as both women picked at their plate. Mrs. Hirai seemed determined to bridge the gap growing between them, her attempts at small talk falling flat against Momo's stony silence.

Then came a time where she was unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. The older woman cleared her throat and fixed her daughter with a searching gaze. "Momo, dear, I must say, this is all absolutely divine. You must have put a lot of thought into it."

Momo glanced up, her eyes meeting her mother's briefly before returning to her plate. "Actually, it’s Y/n who’s behind it all," she admitted, her tone guarded.

Mrs. Hirai's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Y/n? The new chef at your restaurant?"

Momo nodded, her mind already bracing for the inevitable conversation about her future. “A real talent for sure. Lots of potential. The whole experimenting thing is something we needed.”

Concern etched Mrs. Hirai's features before she composed herself, her expression becoming more serious. "Momo, don’t you want to reconsider at least once?”

Momo's shoulders tensed, steeling herself for the argument she knew was about to unfold. "Mom, we've been over this. I've made up my mind."

Mrs. Hirai regarded her daughter with a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "Think about what you’ll be leaving behind, it makes no sense! This company is your birthright, it’s your legacy, you have to uphold it."

Momo sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mom, but I just don't want it. You’re asking me to be the head of it all as if I haven’t just been taking orders and following plans my whole life. I’m telling you I can’t bear all that, I don’t…"

Tears pricked at Momo’s eyes, “I don’t want to fail.”

"I understand, dear.” Mrs. Hirai's expression softened, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But you have a responsibility to the family, to your father's legacy."

"I'm trying, Mom! Why do you think I go on all these dates for?" Momo's frustration boiled over, her voice rising slightly.

Mrs. Hirai recoiled slightly at the sudden outburst, her expression pained. "Well, it is taking a while," she murmured, "Maybe you should reconsider your approach."

Momo's jaw clenched, her frustration only mounting. "It's not my fault they're all brainless," she muttered, stabbing at the poor short ribs you’d braised to perfection. "Half of them are grossly aroused by your pockets. If you're fine with that, then tell me, and I'll gladly shorten the process."

Mrs. Hirai sighed, a mix between sorrow and anger. "Momo, we just want what's best for you. The company is important, yes, but so is your happiness."

As much as the company mattered to her parents, Momo’s happiness came above all. They’d worked so hard to provide for her, to ensure she never lacked anything. Especially love. Theirs had birthed this wonderful girl, whom they nurtured with, only wishing for her to find her own.

Seeing their daughter ready to sacrifice such a value broke their hearts more than her leaving the company.

"I know, Mom. I just wish..." Momo's shoulders sagged, her anger dissipating as she met her mother's gaze.

Mrs. Hirai saw the opportunity to mention what's been lingering on her mind. "I noticed your father has been setting you up with Jihyo. She's a capable woman, and the Park family is influential. It could be a good match for both of you, professionally and personally."

Momo scoffed, tearing through the last of her cutlet. "Jihyo’s basically the daughter of our closest enemy. She’s a wild card, Mom.”

Mrs. Hirai blinked, taken aback by Momo's bluntness. It was a true definition, but such frank acknowledgment of their family's associates was rarely spoken aloud. It felt like breaking a taboo.

“Momo—”

“Listen, she's a nice enough person, but she's not what I need nor want. I know Dad thinks that pushing me towards her will make me stay in the company and keep things stable. Nice try, but we’re not six, and it's not fair to either of us."

Mrs. Hirai's face softened, "Momo, he just wants to make you jealous,” she said, a light chuckle leaving her lips.

“What?”

“You’re giving your father too much credit, as always.” She shook her head, clearly amused. “Remember when you actually were six and didn’t want to go to bed? The way he went to grab the dog and act all cuddly with it, instead of you? He’s doing the same with Jihyo. Grabbing the closest thing to replace you, hoping you’ll come tear it up and claim your place again.”

Momo's eyes widened, processing her mother's words. She was over here claiming she was so old and mature now, but he was doing the same thing as when she was young. Getting a hold of the closest, emotionally threatening enough thing around to get her to listen to him.

"So... he's not serious about Jihyo?"

Mrs. Hirai sighed. "He's serious about wanting you to stay. He thinks seeing Jihyo in your place will make you reconsider."

Momo shook her head, feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. "I don't want to be manipulated like this. I want my decisions to be mine, not because Dad is playing games."

Her mother reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on her daughter's. "I understand, dear. But sometimes, those who love us most will do anything to keep us close."

Momo's lip trembled. "I don’t care, it's not fair, Mom. How can you be okay with this?"

Hearing her mother back her father’s insane behavior was heartbreaking. Disappointing. Momo's chest tightened, a nauseating mix of frustration and betrayal surging within her as she caught her mother’s eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm not saying I agree with his methods, Momo. But I know he's scared. Scared of losing you."

Momo looked down, her tears finally spilling over. "I just want to live my own life, make my own choices. Why can't he understand that?"

Her mother sighed, squeezing her hand gently. "Because he loves you, and he's afraid. Afraid that without the company, without us, you'll be lost. He doesn't realize how strong you've become."

Momo shook her head, frustration and sadness mingling in her heart. "I wish he could see that."

Mrs. Hirai nodded, her voice gentle. "Show him, Momo. The banquet is yours. Let him see what you can achieve on your own terms. Prove to him that you're capable of making your own choices and succeeding."

Momo took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. "You really think that will make a difference?"

Mrs. Hirai offered her a soft smile. "I do. Just be patient.”

Momo nodded, though the weight of her father's manipulations still pressed heavily on her heart. As she focused back on the food on her plate, her thoughts wandered back to you, and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.

That glimmer of hope, it burned softly within her heart. Still too weak for her to feel anything other than relief at the thought of you.

—

“Can you at least pretend to be useful?” You snapped, slamming an oven door shut. “I need everyone on deck, and you’re just standing there complaining!”

The kitchen was bustling, the whole brigade rushing around to perfect their dishes as the deadline for the banquet loomed closer. Momo had scheduled a tasting tonight, placing you at the heart of the chaos. You tried to maintain control and ensure everything was perfect, but it was hard doing so when someone seemed determined to get in your way.

Momo's behavior had shifted over the past two weeks. She'd started paying more attention, trying to be more involved. It wasn't purely altruistic—she saw a silver lining in your presence. One that could solve all her problems. You challenged her in ways she hadn't experienced since her rookie days, igniting a new source of motivation. For once, she felt driven, compelled to prove herself.

So she decided to make you feel at ease—for her own gain, yes, but you won something in the deal, didn't you?

After that night in the office, she made it a point to be around more, offering assistance, and listening to you more.

It was promising.

But she had to ruin that too.

Today, she decided to supervise the brigade as you prepared for tonight's tasting. Her presence was only getting in the way of everyone, especially you. You tried to keep your focus, but Momo's constant hovering and her split attention were grating on your nerves.

As she stood in the kitchen, her phone buzzed constantly with texts from Jihyo. She tried to juggle the mounting pressure from her father, the complications with Jihyo, and her responsibilities; but it was obviously getting too much on one plate.

You glanced at Momo, noticing the tension in her posture, the way she bit her lip as she read her messages. The way she moved, the way her eyes sparked with intensity—it all captivated you for a second, distracting you in ways you didn't need at the moment.

Momo’s irritation mirrored yours. She snapped her head up from her phone, eyes blazing. "I would if you gave me anything remotely interesting to do. I won't just fetch things for you like some errand boy."

You scoffed, crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way her anger only seemed to add to her intensity. “Seriously? Picking and choosing at a time like this? If you were just going to screw me over you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place!”

Momo only chuckled, “Really? Because I could have sworn you’d begged for me to be here.”

“Right.” You nodded. “When I did that I didn’t think you’d take it as an invite to smear yourself all over anything I do again. We agreed you’d let me handle the kitchen, why are you so hellbent on keeping tabs, just let me do my job!”

“This whole thing was my idea.” Momo shot back, stepping closer. “You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me. That name you’re so proud of means nothing without my backing.”

“You’re not doing anything but sabotaging yourself.” Your voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. “I’m gonna need you to take your eyes off your own ass and look around you. Who do you recognize?”

Momo stayed silent, her mind racing. She glanced around, seeing the faces and eyes focused on her—some confused, some irritated. She realized she couldn’t put a single name to any of them. Her heart sank as the reality of her detachment hit her. The bustling kitchen, the brigade working tirelessly, and she couldn’t even acknowledge their efforts properly.

She felt a knot of frustration and embarrassment tightening in her chest.

You chuckled, “See what happens when you’re too busy playing corporate princess? Just let me f****** handle it.”

Her anger flared again, some kind of defense against the sting of that realization. “You think you’re so indispensable, don’t you?” she hissed. “That your presence is the only thing holding this together? Get over yourself, Y/n.”

“Sure I will. Please, lead the way like you so beautifully know how!” You gestured, hands as sarcastic as your tone.

The tension was palpable, your breaths mingling as you stood face to face, neither willing to back down. For a moment, it seemed like the argument might escalate further, but then Momo broke eye contact, her gaze shifting to her surroundings.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” she spat, voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You think you’ve done such a great job running this s***show, huh?”

When she looked back at you, her eyes met yours with nothing but anger as something else she couldn’t quite place tried to ease itself in. She hated the way you managed to make her feel—vulnerable, exposed.

“You better prove it tonight or I’ll make sure you’ll regret ever stepping into this kitchen.”

Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing amidst the chaos, that short and fragile truce between you two shattered yet again.

Tasting sure was going to be interesting…

—

That same night, the dining room was elegantly arranged, a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen earlier in the day. The table was set with fine china and crystal glasses, casting delicate reflections under the soft, ambient lighting. Momo sat between her parents, a tight smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. Around the table were key senior staff members, trusted friends, and a few family members, all eager to sample the menu.

You, along with your brigade, moved seamlessly between the kitchen and the dining room. You made sure to put your hard earned skills to use, presenting each course with a practiced grace, detailing the inspiration and techniques behind every dish. Despite the tension in the air linking you to Momo, your professionalism never faltered, though your eyes rarely left the plates you were serving.

Each course was met with nods of approval, murmurs of appreciation, and the occasional question, which you answered with an admirable precision. Momo, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on her plate. Her parents exchanged glances, concern etching their features.

When dessert was finally brought out, a hush fell over the table. You presented the dish—the deconstructed lemon meringue pie—explaining the delicate balance of flavors and textures. The room filled with the scent of citrus and caramelized sugar.

"Momo," Mrs. Hirai's voice cut through the murmurs, "you haven't said much tonight. What do you think?"

Momo looked up, her eyes meeting her mother's before shifting uncomfortably to the food in front of her. She felt the weight of everyone's gaze, including yours as you had paused in your explanation to listen.

"It's... it's very well done," she finally said, her voice painfully devoid of any enthusiasm. "The team has done an excellent job."

Her father frowned, leaning forward. "You can do better than that. Your opinion matters here. Speak up."

Momo's jaw tightened. She spent the entire evening avoiding your gaze, the argument from earlier still fresh and raw. Both of you were acting like children after a petty feud over a toy, going out of your way to avoid acknowledging each other.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "The dessert is innovative and beautifully executed. It’s exactly what I envisioned for the banquet."

Your eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and annoyance, recognizing the lie she’d just pushed through her teeth. She hadn’t envisioned anything—you’d fought tooth and nail over every detail up until hours ago.

"Thank you, Momo," Your voice strained in an attempt to stay polite. "I'm glad it meets your expectations."

The air grew thicker with obviously unspoken words. Momo’s parents exchanged another glance, sensing the underlying tension.

Mr. Hirai cleared his throat. "It’s important for us to be honest during these tastings. If there’s anything that needs to be improved, now is the time to speak up."

Momo felt her irritation grow. "I said it's fine, Father."

"Momo, we're just trying to help.” Her mother interjected gently, “If there’s anything you're not happy with, you need to communicate that."

That’s when you decided to step in, your tone sharp. "I think we all understand the importance of feedback. I have to say Momo's input has been invaluable—despite her current silence."

Momo's eyes flashed with anger. "Invaluable? Really? Seems to me like my input has been more of an inconvenience to you."

Your jaw clenched. "I never said that. But if you actually participated instead of hovering, it might be more constructive."

"Participated?” She shot back. “You mean following your every whim? I have better things to do than micromanage your kitchen."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. You caught Momo's parents looking between you and their daughter, realizing just how deep the rift had reached.

Mrs. Hirai spoke up first to try and defuse the situation. "Let’s not forget why we're here. The food is excellent, and we’re all looking forward to the banquet. Let’s focus on that."

Momo took a deep breath, faking a smile. "Yes, Mother. You're right. The food is great. Let's enjoy it."

But the damage was done. The altercation had cast a shadow over the evening and lingered in the air, unresolved and simmering just below the surface.

—

The kitchen was finally empty, the last of the staff having been dismissed for the night. You leaned against the counter, the cool steel pressing into your back as you took a moment to breathe. The day had been long and grueling, but at least the tasting was a success, earning yourself and your brigade a few days of rest before the banquet.

You should feel relieved, at least a little bit, you knew that. Yet you couldn’t break free from the weight of the air around you, mounted with tension from yours and Momo’s altercation.

It was suffocating. The hold she had on you, you could say you’d allowed it if only you could put a stop to it. If you at least wanted to make it stop…

The sound of the door to the kitchen creaking open halted your thoughts and Momo stepped inside. You could tell by the heels clicking softly on the tiled floor, and the way you instantly straightened yourself.

You watched her approach with guarded eyes, noticing her arms crossed over her chest. You mirrored her posture when she came close enough, crossing your own, guarding yourself up.

Momo noticed, eyes flickering to the tattoos peeking from beneath your rolled-up sleeves. She hadn’t seen those a lot, only finding out you had them when she started hanging around the kitchen more. Might have been a reason for her to do so, asking you to go and reach for utensils high-up just to peek.

She shook the thoughts away, finding your eyes and focusing on them. “Hey,” she began, her voice softer than you were used to. “Good job.”

The words almost made you choke. You swallowed hard, mouth drying up at the bitterness suddenly filling your heart. Momo waited for an answer, probably feeling entitled to one before she remembered you’d never given in to her.

“How are you feeling?” She tried again, leaning against the counter across from you. Her soft tone matched her eyes this time, so you allowed yourself to answer her.

“Fine, I guess.” You shrugged, eyes sweeping the floor. “It went well.”

She nodded, hesitating. “Yeah, it did. My parents were impressed.”

“That’s good to hear.” You replied, not looking at her.

Momo took a deep breath, steeling herself. "About earlier... I'm sorry. I’m the one who started yelling. Wasn't really professional of me."

You chuckled, finally meeting her eyes. "Did you just apologize? Didn't know you had it in you."

Her irritation flared once more. "I'm serious, Y/n. I get that this isn’t something you’re used to from me, but I can admit I was out of line."

"Okay, okay," you said, raising your hands. "Apology accepted."

You were so… nonchalant about it. As if you couldn’t care less. If you were honest, you could, but the reaction you were having didn’t exactly reflect that. It wasn’t the one she expected and she didn’t like it.

She almost started another argument before catching herself. Her jaw clenched, holding back some words to replace them with others she deemed more… gentle. Better suited to air out her frustrations. “Why are you still so defensive? The tasting went well anyway, didn’t it? Everything was perfect, my parents loved it, and everything has your name on it. You got what you wanted so why the attitude? Stop being so childish.”

That kind of shut you up. Momo couldn’t believe the silence that followed her words. She was right, you were adult enough to admit that. Just not enough to do it out loud. Not enough not to talk back.

You just had to do it for some reason. Maybe it was because her words struck a nerve, hitting closer to home than you were willing to admit.

"Fine," you muttered. "But you’re not exactly making it easy."

You honestly felt like a child, not being able to process or understand what's happening, so you took out your frustrations the only way you knew how to : throwing a tantrum.

Momo sighed, exasperated. "Are you going to keep this up during the banquet too? Does talking back to me and disregarding me turn you on or something?"

You scoffed, but it’s painfully evident in the moment, that you’re indeed attracted to her. But you’d never admit that either. You wouldn’t because, apart from her being attractive, you can’t tell why that is. “You wish.”

“You know what, maybe I do.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, and Momo caught you struggling. She wanted—no, she needed—to let you know. That you couldn’t hide from her. Yet her lips refused to do anything else than let you know her own truth.

“Maybe then I could make a reason out of your behavior,” she whispered, words trembling in frustration.

Silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but odd. Eerie. Neither of you knew what the next words would be or where they’d come from, but you sure were getting ready for them.

Her eyes weren't looking into yours anymore. They were searching, reflecting, maybe even reaching out to her own fears. You saw it—the shift, the hesitation.

You didn’t expect her to speak up first.

“If you can’t do it for me then do it for yourself,” she started, “If this fails my family will take a hit, sure, but ultimately you and I both know we’ll be fine. Your career’s the only thing on the line here.”

Her voice was cold, icy, cutting through your ego with reminders of where you stood in this environment. In this industry. She jabbed her finger against your chest, making each one of her points clear and painful.

So you grabbed her hand, pushing it down with enough force to make a statement and let your stubbornness shine through yet again

"Don't," your voice low, enough of a threat to pull a reaction out of her too.

Momo's patience snapped. She grabbed a fistful of your white button-up, creasing up your pride and pulling you closer, her eyes not leaving yours.

You noticed for the first time, just how pretty she was and how dangerous that is. Your heart was desperate to make you feel it, practically racing against her own.

“You know what,” a smirk quivered on your lips at how tightly she held onto you. “Maybe this is all about more than just work.” You strained out, words slipping and pushing through the limits you’d drawn around her.

You reveled in the way she let you go. Her fist released your shirt, pushing you away only for her fingers to linger on the fabric and keep you from going too far.

You made a point to step back, biting the inside of your lip when she took a stepped forward.

Maybe it did turn you on a little.

"I warned you earlier, didn't I?” Her eyes burned into yours, as if trying to distract you from the weakness she’s been displaying. “You do whatever you want on Friday. One wrong move, and I might just keep my word this time."

"Maybe you should," you retorted, your eyes flashing with defiance, provoking the spark of anger in her own.

Her proximity was intoxicating. It would be betraying your own words, painting a coward out of yourself, but you still tried to step away. Your foot carefully slipped back, ready to carry you elsewhere and flee.

Halfway there, and you were back to square one. Suffocating under Momo’s impulse, drowning into the feeling of her lips continuously crashing against yours…

She pulled you back in even closer, her fist having claimed itself around the fresh crease of your shirt. You didn’t fight to remove it this time, finding it much easier and pleasant to surrender.

Your kisses were vicious against each other’s. Anything but gentle, fueled by anger and weeks of built up frustrations.

You lost yourselves into a simmering attraction neither of you wanted to acknowledge. Even when you found enough strength to pull apart. And even less when you realized just how much it took to do so.

The air seemed to thin out, charged with more tension than it held moments ago. More than ever before.

Your breaths were heavy, mingling with hers as you stared at each other’s features in shock and confusion.

Momo’s eyes were hazy, lips a neat mess and swollen from the kiss. “This doesn’t change anything.” she whispered, visibly shaken by her own actions.

You only nodded, busy trying yet unable to process the depth of what just happened. She slipped herself away from your arms and you watched her go, a mixture of frustration and longing churning in your chest.

The night felt colder, the kitchen emptier as you stood there, thoughts in a whirlwind. The kiss had changed everything and nothing, leaving both of you with more needs and questions than before.

—

“You kissed her?!”

“No, she kissed me!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

It really didn’t, Jeongyeon was right. So you let her slap you on the arm, the sting a light and playful discipline.

A couple of days passed, and you wasted two days of your hard earned break wallowing on your couch until Jeongyeon came by to drag you out of it for brunch. You complained the whole time, for entertainment purposes, but you were thankful for her.

With how busy you’d been since joining Momo, the two of you had only seen each other once. You made sure to keep her updated though, or rather she did by pestering you and teasing you about both your behaviors. She managed to keep herself up to date with every single little thing that had happened between you and Momo.

All except the latest.

“Like it’s my fault?” You argued, “Who wears a cropped dress shirt to a tasting…”

Jeongyeon chuckled at the state of you. All sprawled out on the table, chin resting on your forearm as you played with a few crumbs of your toast. She noticed the way your eyes wandered far away from this table, probably digging into your memories of Momo in that cropped dress shirt.

How pathetic, to her delight.

She shrugged at your words, reaching for her cup. “Less fabric, less stain prone. She’s got a point.”

You threw a piece of bread at her, but she dodged. “Why did she wear a tie then?” You straightened yourself up in your seat. “Seems to me like that would be just as much fabric as a regular dress shirt.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, “Stop blaming the shirt, and get a grip. You kissed her because you like her.”

“Back. I didn’t kiss her, I kissed her back.”

“That’s still a lot of kissing. So you’re not denying it, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, and snickered when you sighed. “You like her.”

You ran a hand through your hair, exasperated. "I don't even know what I feel, Jeongyeon. It's... complicated."

Jeongyeon smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Feelings usually are. But denying it won't make it any less true."

You groaned. "She's infuriating. One minute she's criticizing everything I do, the next she's—."

"Kissing you," Jeongyeon finished, taking a sip of her coffee.

You wanted to knock that smirk of hers (lovingly) off her lips, but resigned, feeling yourself smile at the joke. Too bad she was being truthful too.

"Yeah.” You fiddled with a napkin in your reach, your smile fading as you thought back to the moment. “And it wasn't just a peck, you know? It was... intense."

Jeongyeon chuckled. "Sounds like there's some serious chemistry there. Maybe all that fighting was just foreplay."

You glared at her, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips again. "You're not helping."

She leaned forward, her expression softening. "Look, Y/n, you've always been passionate about your work. Maybe she sees that and respects it, even if she has a hard time showing it. She's probably just as confused about her feelings as you are."

You sighed again, feeling the weight of her words. "Maybe. But what do I do now? She’s git the worst timing ever, we’ve got the banquet coming up; I can't afford any distractions."

Jeongyeon smiled knowingly. "Just be honest with yourself. And let go of your pride a little, who knows, maybe then she’ll be nice to you. If what you both truly want is for that banquet to work out, you’ll know to set this aside for now. Behave, and the rest will follow. Probably."

You gave Jeongyeon a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by her attempt to absolve herself of responsibility. "Probably?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Jeongyeon shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, I'm just here to nudge you in the right direction. The rest is up to you. Relationships are messy, but you'll never know if you don't try."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair again. "I guess you're right. It's just... a very uncharted territory right now."

Jeongyeon nodded, her expression turning sincere. "I know. But she might just be worth getting into it, I mean… I wouldn’t mind letting my guard down around her.”

You rolled your eyes, "Of course you wouldn't."

"You should do the same," she said teasingly. "Seriously, Y/n."

You looked down, a small smile playing at your lips. "Maybe. We'll see."

"That's the spirit,” Jeongyeon grinned. “Now finish that toast and get back out there. You've got a banquet to hold. And a girl to figure out."

You chuckled, “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Jeongyeon."

"Sure. Just invite me to the wedding."

—

Momo stood in front of the grand mirror in her room, adjusting the final touches of her outfit. The sleek black suit, paired with a statement pearl choker, gave her an air of authority and elegance she loved to see on herself. The sharp lines of the fabric contrasted with the delicate jewelry, creating a powerful and refined look.

She glanced at her reflection, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind raced with thoughts of the evening ahead, the guests, the speeches, the food, and most of all, you.

Since that kiss, everything had become a whirlwind of confusion. You were infuriating, challenging, and utterly impossible to read. The kiss had only complicated things further, as if that relationship needed another tangled strain. What was she thinking… It was hard to focus on anything else when she replayed the moment in her mind, over and over again. Your lips on hers, the intensity, the fire—it had been unexpected, unplanned, and yet, it felt strangely good.

And then there was Jihyo. The situation with her was just as headache inducing. Jihyo's texts, her father's manipulations, and the pressure to stay in the company-everything just kept weighing on her. Yet somehow, in the midst of it all, she didn't mind any of it. As if the kiss had awakened something in her, something allowing her to bear all that weight. She hadn't felt that in a long time. It made her question everything, including her feelings for you and what she truly wanted for her future.

She didn’t like that. But she didn’t exactly mind it either.

As she walked into the venue, her eyes scanned the room, filled with guests fighting for best dressed mingling along with some others… settled for comfort. The atmosphere was buzzing, poking at Momo's racing heart. She felt nervous, not just from the pressure of the evening, but from the thought of seeing you again. She hadn't seen you since that night in the kitchen, and she wasn't sure what to expect.

It took a while, but her eyes finally found you across the room, looking dapper in your chef's uniform. For the first time, as a sign of gratitude and hopefully good news for your future, you were made to wear the official uniform of the Hirai kitchens. The jet black jacket, adorned with the restaurant's insignia, felt weird and new, but the colors … You could get used to them, and the material was soft enough.

You were talking to one of the guests, a polite smile on your face, but she could see the tension in your posture. You must have felt her gaze because you looked up, eyes locking with hers for a brief, electrifying moment.

You took Jeongyeon's advice to heart, determined to behave, to keep things professional despite the need to lash out at your own confusing feelings, and by extension; her. So you approached her cautiously, using the distance separating her from you to try and calm that pounding in your chest.

"Momo," you greeted, your voice came out steady enough, but your eyes betrayed your nerves.

"Y/n," she replied, her own voice calm.

You stood there for a moment, the silence hanging heavy with the memory of your kiss, a palpable tension neither of you could ignore.

"You look nice. Very professional," You finally said, breaking the silence. Your words were sincere, and for a moment, Momo's heart slowed.

"Thank you," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. "You look... different."

You chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension. "Yeah, I do. It feels weird but... good."

You stood still. Just there, awkward and unsure, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Anyone passing by could tell there was something between you two, although not able to put their finger on it. Not any more than you could. But you tried; to find a way to move forward without letting your emotions get in the way of the night's success.

"I think we should... talk maybe," You said, your voice dropping to a low, almost hesitant tone.

Thankfully Momo nodded, wanting nothing more. Until she remembered where she was. "Yeah, we do. But maybe not here. Later?"

"Later," you agreed, relief evident in your eyes. "For now, let's focus on tonight."

"Agreed," she said, her resolve strengthening. "Let's give them a night to remember."

—

The banquet was in full swing, and Momo couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she watched the guests enjoy the evening. After her brief but intense interaction with you, she’d thrown herself full swing into hosting, greeting the most important guests warmly and ensuring everything was running smoothly. She could see you, now dressed in the official Hirai colors, making your rounds with the staff in the kitchen through the glass doors.

She liked the sight. Enjoyed it even.

As the main courses began to be served, Momo took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the room. Everything seemed perfect, but she knew better than to let her guard down, and just as she was about to step back into the fray, one of the staff members approached her, looking visibly distressed.

"Ms. Hirai, we have a problem in the kitchen," the staff member whispered urgently, causing a surge of anxiety within her.

“What kind of problem?”

"The main course... there's an issue with the meat—well, it’s more the ovens not working properly—but we don't have enough time to fix it without some quick thinking."

Momo's heart picked up the pace again. This could ruin the entire evening.

Without a second thought, she hurried towards the kitchen, her mind racing with solutions. As she entered, she found you there, looking equally concerned.

“Y/n,” she called out, catching your attention. “We have a problem.”

The tension between you both flared up instantly, old arguments resurfacing in the heat of the moment. You tried to stay focused, but her presence was both a distraction and a relief. You were stressed, and seeing her only added to the pressure.

Momo crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's going on? Why wasn't I informed earlier?"

Your jaw tightened, trying to keep your frustration in check. "It's under control. We have a backup plan. I'm using the emergency meat, but we need to cook it quickly and differently."

"Good," she said, biting back her irritation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You paused, debating on teasing her about stepping in, but it wasn't the time nor place. "Can you go around and make sure everyone is on time? Report back to me if there's any issue."

She nodded, her gaze softening slightly. "Got it."

As she moved through the kitchen, checking on the staff and ensuring everyone was on schedule, she couldn't help but notice the tension in your posture. Despite the pressure, you remained in control, your hands moving with precision as you prepped the backup meat. She saw the way your brows furrowed, the way you bit your lip in concentration. It struck her how much you actually cared, how deeply invested you were in all this.

When she returned to you, she gave a quick update. "Everyone's on track. No issues so far."

"Good," you replied, a brief moment of relief flashing in your eyes before the stress settled back in. "Thank you."

Momo only nodded. She wanted to say more, to ease your tension, but the words wouldn't come. So she just took a step back, intending to head back out when her eyes caught sight of a pile of uncut vegetables next to you.

"Is anyone on these?" she asked, motioning to the vegetables.

You cussed under your breath at the sight of them, wiping the sweat from your forehead. The meat chaos had messed with your train of thoughts... "Damn it, no. I completely forgot."

Momo stepped closer, pushing her sleeves up. "Relax. I'll handle it."

"What—Are you sure?"

You would question the move, but the help she was offering was too precious.

Momo nodded, already reaching for a knife. "Yeah. How do you want them cut?"

The way she proceeded to handle that knife shouldn’t have been a surprise. She did belong to a respectable culinary lineage, but seeing her in action was something else entirely.

You felt a strange sense of relief wash over you as you witnessed her skills from the corner of your eye. The fact that she was actually helping you made the situation feel a little less overwhelming.

The two of you worked side by side, and you could feel the tension easing up its hold onto the two of you as the minutes passed.

It was suddenly easier to breathe.

—

Much later in the night than you’d have liked, you stood outside the restaurant, the air of the night cool against your skin as you savored the last drags of your cigarette.

The streets were calm, the occasional hum of traffic in the distance adding a weirdly soothing track to the end of it all.

The banquet, everything had finally come to an end, and successfully, but the lingering thoughts of Momo and your unresolved tension clouded your mind.

You mindlessly watched as the guests left one by one, their laughter and chatter fading as they climbed into expensive cars and drove away. The soft glow of taillights disappeared around corners, leaving the street empty and silent every time.

You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the dark sky above.

Sure, that little moment in the kitchen earlier was nice, but… There was still a lot to work through.

A familiar sound of stilettos against the rough concrete pulled your eyes off and away from some sweet looking Mercedes. It didn’t compete with the sight you knew was awaiting

Momo stepped outside and startled you with a soft, “You smoke too much.”

You looked over, a faint smile on your lips. “Well, I’m trying to quit, but I deserve this one.”

She chuckled, taking a seat beside you. You watched her, feeling bad for the expensive suit you’d eyed any chance you got. All night. “You’ll mess your pretty clothes up,” you said, stubbing out the cigarette.

“Who cares,” she brushed off. “Night’s over anyway.”

You nodded. Couldn’t argue with that. “Congratulations, by the way. Was your mom proud?”

Momo smiled at the recent memory of her parents congratulating and thanking her for her hard work. “Yeah, they both were.”

You eyed her fingers as they fiddled with each other. It made you smile, how no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to hide that shy part of her.

“Was the outfit supposed to be a statement?” you asked, and she shuffled, telling you it might have been. It amused you. “You shouldn’t have. Did it shake you up that much?” You smirked as though you hadn’t gone to cry about it to Jeongyeon.

“About that night…” she trailed off, silently hoping you’d take the reins.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell your suitors.” You shrugged, half-jokingly.

A small, playful but sincere gesture that slapped Momo in the face. She had completely forgotten about her little side quest with the pressure of the past few days. And also because you’ve been the only thing on her heart’s mind since your kiss. Before stepping out to join you, she even cut things off with Jihyo through a text, thinking it was finally the end of it all. She’d forgotten about all the other ones.

“Oh.” She managed to say after slowing her thoughts down. “Thanks.”

“No problem…”

A few long and awkward seconds passed.

“Wait, are you gonna carry on with those?”

Momo pursed her lips, thinking. “I don’t know.”

She really had no idea. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to quit the company anymore. Until her dad told her he’d slowly been warming up to her decision as he left moments ago, she forgot this was her last project.

It was great news, yeah, if it weren’t for one little detail you helped her realise a little too late.

She didn’t want it to be.

Momo cleared her throat, her lips opening and closing a few times before managing to get the words out. “Are you going to stick around?” she tentatively asked.

You shrugged, playing it cool although you had a feeling her question meant good news. Hopefully in both professional and personal parts of your life. “If you want me to.”

Momo grinned, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You nodded, suppressing a smile. “Will you?” you asked, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Will you stick around too? Or are you quitting and leaving the country to become a dance teacher on the other side of the world?”

“How do you know I dance?” She laughed.

“You’re a public figure, Momo. Investments make headlines, especially the heartfelt ones,” you reminded, referring to the time she donated a generous amount to her old dance school in need.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Not really. Just news stuff.”

“Right.” You felt her eyes on you, rightfully suspicious. Another silence settled, although this one was a little less awkward and shorter. “Have you always wanted to be a chef?”

You simply nodded at the question, not wanting to dull the moment with details. “Thank you for the opportunity by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you, how rude of me.”

“You’re welcome,” she chuckled. “You deserved it. A lot of guests asked me to send their compliments to the chef.”

Her nudge to your ribs made you pull away instinctively, the sudden contact sending a rush of warmth to your chest. You looked down, hiding your smile as your mind rewound back to your first meeting. “You never called me chef, by the way.”

“And I never will,” she said assuredly, making you chuckle. It was all you could do for now with your focus on her hand fiddling with your own, watching as she intertwined her fingers with yours, the other caressing the exposed and sketched skin of your forearm.

She sure had gotten comfortable. The way she leaned into you, her touch becoming more familiar and assured... You wondered where it came from for a second before remembering how bad of a job you were doing at hiding the effect she had on you so far.

Well, if that’s what it got you…

“Bet on that?” You teased. A little provocation, for grounding purposes.

Momo just nodded though, still assured, and it made you even more curious about what she had in mind for her to be. “Why not?” you probed.

She only smiled, observing your features long enough to make you blush in the night. She inched her face closer to yours, her hand squeezing around yours. It felt only natural for you to lean in, and the nose scrunch she did was new, but the grin that came with it had you guessing it was a good thing. She couldn’t help but giggle as you leaned in, and you almost forgot what had pushed you so close until she spoke up.

“I’ll call you much better, and more flattering things than ‘chef’… darling,” she whispered.

You folded immediately, and this time, you were the one that kissed her. This one was much sweeter, softer. Flavors from the night dancing on your lips, teasing the ones on your tongues. Dessert and smoke, a blend of sweetness and bitterness that felt just right.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, you felt her lips turn into a smirk against yours.. “Doesn't mean we’re done arguing, though.”

“It doesn't?”

She shook her head, her free hand reaching for a displaced lock of your hair. “Not until you quit smoking.”

“I told you I’m already trying to.”

“I know, but I also happen to think you look hot doing it.”

“Can’t wait to fight about me being hot then.”

———

@cry4mina thank you for supportively bullying me to finish this i hope you liked it

#momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo angst

[bitethedevil]

Why does Raphael hate Mephistopheles and why does he live in Avernus?: Raphael as an outcast

(It has been a little while since my last analysis post. I would like to remind everyone that what I’m talking about is purely my own theories and I always love to hear other people’s thoughts on them no matter if you agree or not <3.)

As we know, Raphael lives in Avernus and not in Cania where Mephistopheles rules. All devils essentially somehow serve an archdevil. The Nine Hells is a super hierarchical place and everyone below the archdevils are basically little worker bees who live to serve their respective archdevils in one way or another.

Raphael collects souls, so one can expect that his job is to some extent to harvest souls for whoever is above him. One would expect that the archdevil he serves is Mephistopheles, but he indirectly helps us rob his father of quite a lot of souls by telling us about Cazador's ritual. That seems like an incredibly stupid and risky move if he worked for Mephistopheles, so I am not quite sold on the fact that he serves his dear old papa.

We know from the Archivist that Zariel’s people keep a bit of an eye on him and comes and goes in his house. Given he also lives in Avernus, it would make more sense that he is forced to serve Zariel at least to some extent. My money is on the idea that his official superior (or his boss, if you will) is Zariel and not Mephistopheles, though I think he might have once served Meph.

Here is a super interesting piece of information that I found about Avernus (this is from the Fiendish Codex II):

“Avernus is home to the outcasts of Baator, also known as ‘the rabble of devilkin.’ Few lesser devils survive more than a few moments as outcasts, so this group is composed almost exclusively of unique devils who are equals of any duke.”

My theory is that Raphael is an outcast and that’s why he’s in Avernus. Perhaps his father got tired of him and got rid of him, fully thinking that he would not survive. I am almost certain that cambions would fall under the ‘lesser devils’ category, or at the very least they are not on the level of dukes. I feel like it’s also often said that Raphael is pretty OP compared to a simple cambion, which is most likely the only reason he has survived (I’ve also heard people talk about him as a duke, which fits into this little theory as well).

There’s more though, and this is where it gets really kind of speculative:

“Some outcast devils, such as Azazel and Dagon, have been stripped of their original names to reduce the chances that they will be summoned to the Material Plane.”

Now, Raphael is a cambion, so he can move between planes regardless, but it would still be a very shitty and dehumanizing thing to strip someone of their name. Mephistopheles being Mephistopheles probably would do something like that if he was pissed at someone.

I have always thought a lot about his name. “Raphael” is a name that we would mostly associate with angels, and not devils. It furthermore does not really sound like any other devil names I’ve come across. It literally means “God’s healer” or something along those lines.

Wouldn’t it be so in character for his dramatic ass, who loves to play human and to play benevolent savior, to choose an angel name for himself? At the Last Light Inn, he literally says that Mol would not believe that he’s a devil because of his “angelic complexion”.

Finally, there’s this:

“Treacherous and scheming, the outcast dukes constantly seek ways to either reclaim their former positions or ranks in the Nine Hells or to destroy or displace the current order. […] Either way, they serve as important pawns between feuding archdukes and dukes.”

Now that definitely sounds like someone we know. I would very much say that wanting the Crown of Karsus to take over the Hells falls under “destroying or displacing the current order”. However, Raphael still has mentions of his father around his house and he has a portal to Cania.

It would not surprise me that Mephistopheles started to show interest in him again after he survived and thrived in Avernus. It would also not surprise me if Raphael, despite all the hate for what his father has done to him, licks Mephistopheles boots to gain favor with him behind closed doors (or at the very least to gain information to give to Zariel behind his father’s back).

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[coffe-and-tea-time]

 Lovesick! Patient x Reader.

Can't you stay longer? ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨♡

Yes, you can…ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨♡

Coffee speaking! This is planned as a unwilling to willing but this part is with a full unwilling reader and Tea is healthy again :D so y'all also are less likely to find weird things in the posts lol

Hello! Tea speaking! Since 7UP is already uploaded (we gotta find them names later), it's now turn for my favorite! (Pepsi is better than Coke and you can fight me on that)

tw: yandere behavior, threats, this place should have better security, kidnapping?, deaths of a random person, unwilling reader, written in you/yours

It was only a cold, you just need to go to the hospital to get the certificate and maybe some paracetamol and then leave, easy, isn't it?

As you walk through the hallways of the hospital, you turn left, having a hard time trying to find your way yourself in this big hospital. It seems like your sense of orientation failed this time, as you bump into a man who is dressed in one of those hospital gowns patients wear.

“I’m so sorry sir, I-”

When you were just about to explain your situation, the look of the man before your eyes makes you shut the fuck up really quickly, his blue eyes looking at you seem off but the toothy smile creeping out of his face makes it looks even scarier… oh dear, what have you stepped into?

“I can’t believe they let you in without somebody to guard you… I’m really happy, I can’t believe I found my darling in such an abrupt manner”

You don’t understand half of his words, but one thing is for sure, you have to run as far as you can from this lunatic, but an unexpectedly quick grip on your wrists and a forceful pull towards the room he came from makes it impossible to scape.

The room is the usual hospital room with stretcher for patients to sleep on and medical equipment, you wonder how it can be that there's no doctor or nurse in sight to ask to supervise their patients, but you don’t have a lot of time to meditate about how bad the personal of the hospital is as the man makes you sit on a chair that was close to one of the beds.

“Oh, you are so so precious, for the first time in my life I’m really grateful for my luck; I promise to take care of you, the nurses can bring anything you want from outside the hospital gates… We can always break out of this place”

He says such a terrifying thing in such a loving tone that it makes you doubt your own mind for a moment, he doesn't seem like he's gonna harm you as he kneels to wrap his arms around you in a tender and caring hug as you keep sitting.

You take the chance, since he is too focused on hugging you and murmuring sweetly, to take a peek around the room to see if there's anything you can use, it seems like a room that was used some days ago, your eye catches some broken things on the corner of the room, making you wonder what happened here, but you can't afford be lost in your thoughts here, it may end up badly if you make the wrong move, you don’t have that much of an option though since you don’t know how stable this man is.

So, you scream, you scream bloody murder until you almost go out of oxygen in your lungs.

what a useless attempt to seek for help

“Mm? Did something happen Darling? Why did you suddenly scream so loudly? Did you get hurt on any part of your body? Do you need something? Maybe you want some kisses to ease your mind?”

Is he dumb?

You can’t help but look at him dumbfounded as he holds your face reassuringly. Then, a nurse enters the room and you don't waste the opportunity and start talking to them in a quick peace due to the nervousness of what will come.

“Excuse me, I had an appointed but ended up kind of lost and then here in this weird situation, I probably should go head home already”

The nurse looks kind of confused by the situation, but the pity in their eyes is noticeable as they quickly get closer, eager to help.

“I’m so sorry about this, I’m new here so I don’t know much but for some reason there is a warning about not wandering around here more that necessary, you must have been in a panic to see that no workers come here”

You foolishly calm down by their gentle voice as they attempt to get closer with a sympathetic smile from the black haired man, which gets up to stand in front of you while facing the nurse, preventing them from getting close to you.

“You are not gonna take my darling anywhere, my dear just got a little scared for a moment, we don’t need you here to bother”

“Sir, you need to go to your room, this person is not an inpatient, they have no reason to be here, there’s no need to make a fuss about this, so now you need to move aside so I ca-”

oh

You watch in shock as the man takes out a scalpel, the world seems to go into slow motion for a moment just to turn into high-speed a second later, you end up front seat to see how the man stabs the nurse’s neck and then quickly go for their chest, aiming for the heart, without blinking as his white clothes gets stained with red.

“Please forgive me Dear, it wasn’t my intention to show this kind of gruesome spectacle to your pretty eyes, let me guide you to my room, you can sleep there to forget all about this annoying insect, I can sing you a lullaby if that helps, I'm pleased to help”

He says as he gets closer to you again leaving the corpse behind him, lifting you up into his arms, not even seeming to be struggling with your weight, which took you by surprise as you grip him fearing you'll fall off, you don’t trust this man but you really don’t want to taste his patience or self proclaimed ‘love’ for you.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

#Coffee speaking #tea speaking #yandere patient #reader insert #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #oc #male yandere #yandere writing #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #tw drugs #yandere x you #obsessive love #stalker #oc x reader #x reader #dark romance #silly writing #yanderecore #yandere drabble #lovesick #unwilling to willing #tw death #random #otome

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 43)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

Over the next few weeks, Cillian seemed to be in a better mood, and, if anything, he was even more affectionate than he had ever been before. He showered you with compliments and affection, making you feel loved and cherished. And yet, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was off. He was acting weird lately and you were not entirely sure why. 

"I am just over this Award stuff already, you know. I am sorry," Cillian muttered after you had asked him once again one night he was visiting you and, since you knew how much he hated all this publicity and travelling around, you didn't push the topic any further. 

"I know you do, but you only have five or so more ceremonies to go," you teased him, trying to put a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until they are over," he replied with a huff. "Fuck, I am getting too old for this shit."

You laughed, but you could sense the weariness in his voice. You knew that acting was his passion, but sometimes, it seemed as if the constant travelling and promotions were taking a toll on him. You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you looked up at him.

"You aren't that old though, Cills," you reminded him with a soft smile, your finger tracing the lines that formed between his eyebrows.  "Now tell me, how did the suit fitting go today?" you asked, changing the topic as you looked up at him, waiting for another huff of annoyance to escape his mouth. But instead, he smiled, a proper wide smile that was so bright and genuine that you couldn't help but follow suit.

"It went well, actually," Cillian said, his tone light as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "It's black," he then told you. "I mean they are all black, which is another thing I do not understand," he chuckled. "Why do I need a different suit for every fucking event?" Cillian groused, shaking his head slightly.

"Because you are nominated for an award at each of those events and I suppose it's important for your image?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him. Cillian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose, but it's so fucking wasteful," Cillian told you before pulling you even closer, knowing that, for the next few weeks, he would be away even more often than he already had been since Christmas which, due to Mara having been sick, you had spent together on your own.  "I know, but hey, you are a successful actor and everyone expects you to dress the part," you reminded him gently, even though you secretly agreed with him. You didn't like the way that the entertainment industry placed so much emphasis on appearances.

Cillian sighed but nodded, understanding that you were right. "I guess," he murmured, his arms tightening around you before he changed the topic. "I wish you and Mara could come with me to LA tomorrow," he told you softly, as he ran a hand up and down your spine.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that could be possible, but knowing it wasn't. "I know and, if Mara wasn't so little still, I probably would. It's just too hard to travel back and forth with a baby," you told Cillian before reminding him that you would be joining him for the Academy Awards next month, for which Cillian had arranged his mother to travel with you so that she could look after Mara while you attended the awards ceremony with Cillian.

He smiled at you in relief and you couldn't help but notice how much that small gesture made your heart flutter. 

The Oscars were an event that you had agreed to attend with him after him begging you to and you were extremely nervous about it. You  had never been to such a big event before, and you were worried about not fitting in. 

Being a famous actor's much younger girlfriend, you were acutely aware of the scrutiny that would be cast upon you at this glamorous event. And as you looked at yourself in the mirror every day, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.  You looked nothing like the glamorous actresses that would be attending the awards ceremony with their equally glamorous partners. You were a young, shy, innocent woman who had just become a mother, and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

But Cillian had been nothing but supportive and encouraging, reminding you every day how beautiful and amazing you were. He had even arranged for his own stylist to dress you  for the awards ceremony, insisting that you would look stunning in whatever she picked out for you.

You smiled at the memory, your heart fluttering as you looked up at Cillian. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

Cillian sighed, his eyes meeting yours before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go either,” he murmured, his arms tightening around you. "I much rather be here with you and Mara," he added in between kisses that stole your breath away.

"I know and I love you for that," you murmured, your fingers tracing sharp lines of tension along his sculpted jawline. "I love you so much."

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your breath against his lips, the weight of your body against his, and the sound of your voice saying those three words that meant the world to him. He pulled back slightly, holding your gaze for just a moment longer before his lips sought yours again, deepening the kiss.

His hands roamed over your body like a moth to a flame, finding the soft curves of your hips, the firm reason that brought sharp gasps to your lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and smooth between them.

"I want you, Cillian," you whispered, breaking the kiss to let your lips glide along his cheek, tasting the salt of his skin. His chest rumbled beneath your touch and your nipples hardened with the pounding rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

"How could I possibly say no to you?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke before, finally, following you upstairs.

"You can't," you giggled, sensing his arousal.  The intensity in Cillian's eyes was undeniable and, before you knew it, you found yourself in bed with him, naked  and sweaty from the anticipation.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Cillian said, his voice low and husky as he ran his hands up and down your body.

You could feel the heat radiating from Cillian's touch and, as his fingers roamed over your breasts, you couldn't help but moan with pleasure. You loved the way Cillian touched you, like you were the only woman in the world.

"And I love you so fucking much," Cillian groaned, leaning forward to kiss you.

His tongue delved into your mouth, tasting you as if you were the sweetest nectar.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his back, feeling every inch of him, committing him to memory.

Cillian's arousal was evident as his cock twitched against your thigh, and you couldn't help but reach down to wrap your fingers around it. He gasped as you began to stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety softness of his cock in your hand.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, breaking the kiss as he looked down at you with a desire-filled gaze.

Without releasing his cock, you rolled onto your back, pulling Cillian with you.

He moved over you, his eyes burning with need as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You could feel the tip of his cock probing at your wetness, and you moaned with anticipation, the thought alone causing a slickness that trickled down your thigh.

Cillian groaned, his hands gripping your hips, rendering you helpless as he slowly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he breathed, his hips rocking gently as he adjusted to your tight heat.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel all of him.

Cillian's grip tightened on your hips, and he began to move in earnest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close and letting go of all your inhibitions.

Cillian's fingers wound through your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to his eager lips. He kissed and bit at your neck, leaving wet, red marks that made you moan with pleasure. 

"Oh god,"  you cried, writhing under him, your body begging for more as he thrust harder and faster.

Cillian's breath was hot and heavy against your skin as he panted with the exertion of pleasure, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room, a rhythmic, primal symphony of desire.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian growled, his movements quickening as he neared his release.

"I am so close, Cillian. Don't stop,"  you begged, your words coming out in pants.

"Never," he growled, his hips snapping forward as he drove himself even deeper inside of you.

Your bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time itself. The bed creaked beneath you, a symphony of pleasure playing out before you.

Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter as he felt the familiar sensation of his orgasm building deep within him.

"Cillian, I'm going to come," you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own climax building.

You cried out his name as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave. Your muscles contracted around Cillian's cock, pulling him even deeper inside of you as he groaned in ecstasy.

Cillian's hips stuttered, and he pressed deeper into you, his orgasm slamming into him as he filled you with his seed.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both panted and trembled in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay sprawled across his chest, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you listened to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and the ache between your legs was a constant reminder of the pleasure they had just shared.

Cillian's tongue found yours, and the two of you kissed passionately, tangling your limbs together as you savored the afterglow.

Eventually, Cillian pulled away, looking down at you with a soft, lingering stare. "I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Cillian," you responded, your voice just as tender as his, not knowing the secret he was holding from you. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

[vxlentinescookies]

→ ❛Apocalypse❜

→ Pairing ; Warlord of Eternal Rest!Longan Dragon Cookie x Reader

→ Quote ; ❛❛Let it be known, that mere blink of a life would be their most beloved, until time became the wind that finally blew the light out.❜❜

→ Genre ; Drama

→ A/N ; :^) (cw mentions of injury (broken legs))

Silence reigned supreme in the ruins of the islands, as Longan dragon cookie roamed them. Nothing was left from the aftermath of the battle, absolutely nothing lived, and nothing changed. The days of gold and silk were no longer there, as darkness consumed the world surrounding them. Everything was so… devoid of light, devoid of life, this wasnt what Longan dragon wanted, no, the ivory dragon was expecting something else, they were expecting a vivid earth, full of life, full of dragons that could roam it and exist freely, but the more that they saw the world around them, the more they realized that perhaps, that was nothing but a silly dream of the past. 

They’d sigh, before turning to leave the ruins to return to their own home before something caught them off guard, the noise of someone under the rubble, someone attempting to escape. Curiosity filled them, as nothing else could fill their mind at the moment, and they made their way towards the rubble. With a hand, they’d lift it up, the weight of the rubble being nothing to them, but they knew, they could sense it, that for whoever was under them, it was a great boulder. Surprise would wash over the dragon as, under the rubble, a figure came forward, the shape of a small cookie, a survivor.

You’d look up from your position, almost crumbled by the force of the boulder that now had been lifted up from you, you gazed at your savior, only for fear to wash over you. Many tales had been told of the great Ivory Dragon, tales reminiscent of war, death, famine and pestilence, yet, where you should’ve found wrath and your imminent end, you’d only find surprise, as the dragon spoke.

“Im highly surprised to find survivors in these ruins…” They’d speak, their voice deep and low, rough, making you shiver as they dropped the boulder somewhere else and reached to pick you up. “Come here, little one, you’re injured…”

“You’re not-You’re not going to kill me?” You asked, dumbfounded as you gazed at the dragon in front of you, who’d only chuckle in return, finding your words amusing. 

“Why would I?” The smile they gave you was cryptic, filled with words that didnt answer your questions as you tried focusing on the moment at hand. “Allow me to take care of you, so rest, for now…”

And with that, you fell into a deep slumber within the hands of Longan Dragon Cookie. When you woke up, you’d be in a soft bed, bigger than anything that you had ever slept into. It was comfortable, but as you sat up you realized the state of the things around you. The room was completely trashed, despite it made seem like it had some semblance of order, the silk that once covered the walls and the bed was broken and ripped apart, scattered around the room, and the gold that once shone bright had been either lost to time, or its shine had dulled. You took in the ambience with curiosity, before a figure appeared from the door, a tall familiar figure clad in dark silk.

“You’re awake…” They’d say, holding a bowl filled with fruits, as well as a few bandages and what seemed to be a ceramic jar. “I brought you food, this is all I could find in these barren lands…”

“T-Thank you” You say as the Ivory Dragon sets them down by your side, there are fruits  galore to pick from, probably the very last ones there could be in said barren land. You picked one of the fruits, a mango, taking them into your lips as you took a taste at the sugary sweet delicacy that was the fruit. Juices would drip down your chin, and you’d sheepishly wipe it away as Longan watched intently, perhaps, too deeply. “... Why are you doing this?”

“Hm?”

“Saving me, I mean… Tales have painted you as a fearsome dragon, not gentle and not merciful to those weaker than them… So why…”

Silence filled the room as Longan thought for various moments, they looked away from you for a bit, before turning back at you, their face ever unchanging from a simple poker face as you gulped and returned to eating the fruit. Had you said something wrong? Were you gonna get killed for real now? Your answer came in the sound of a sigh, and the following words were uttered.

“You should rest as much as you need, you may leave on your journey when you are well rested up” Would be all that they’d say, as they’d leave the room, finally leaving you alone to your own thoughts.

This behavior would repeat through the rest of days, as you tried to speak with them yet again, they seemed to evade you on purpose, simply walking away every time you started eating. It was difficult to get any information out of the dragon, had you unintentionally struck a cord they didnt want to recall? a memory? you sighed as you ate your papaya, the juices of the fruit dripping from your chin as Longan watched yet again.

“You’re a messy eater” They’d state, then, as you turned to see them. This was the most you had gotten out of them in days, so, you took the chance and spoke too.

“Im sorry” You started, catching them off guard as they’d lift an eyebrow at your words. You were sorry? For what? “I shouldnt have said that to you that day, the day you saved me…”

“Dont worry about it”

“No—Because of that you’ve been ignoring me! Its not fair!”

“Nothing in life is fair, little one”

“I just—”

“You should keep resting” They’d end, turning their back at you before starting to leave the room, until…

“Wait…! Can… Can you take me to see the sunset…?”

Your legs had been broken the day Longan had found you, and it was taking more than mere days to heal them, therefore, you hadnt been able to leave the bed in a long time. Longan looked at you with an unreadable expression, before smiling, a soft, genuine smile, the same smile they gave you when they saved you from the rubble that day. They’d take you in their arms, carefully, bringing you out of the room towards what seemed to be the throne room in the ruins of the castle, once again, filled with rubble, torn silk and gold that had lost its shine, yet, in the sky, you could see it, the sunset happening before your very eyes.

“... Its rare to see the sunset these days” They’d speak, and you’d turn your head from the sky towards the cookie holding you in their arms “Usually, the sky is filled with darkness, or I arrive far too late to see it… These beautiful colors…”

“Beautiful…”

“... I’ll confide in you, little one, things that no one has heard, for I have no longer anything to lose” They’d speak solemnly, before taking a seat at the throne. “Back in the era where dragons freely roamed earthbread…”

And thats how it started, telling you stories about the olden days, the days where things were different, the days where there were 5 dragons, all different, all with their own unique motives. You listened quietly and attently, looking at them as a certain sense of fervor and passion filled their empty eyes. Night would come, and they’d bring you to the bed you’ve slept on, and the next day it would all repeat. They’d bring you fruit, they’d bring you to watch the sunset, they’d sit at the throne with you in their arms and they’d speak of the olden times. Days, then turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and months, slowly turned into a year. Your legs had already healed by then, yet the routine stayed the same, as you learned to walk all over again, they’d hold your hand or carry you, keeping you close, holding you close. 

“Longan…” You’d call out one day, after the dragon had left you in bed, they turned to watch you, and you’d gaze upon them with both shamefulness and embarrassment, before speaking once again. “Please… Stay…”

“...” The dragon would only look at you, expression unreadable, before smiling softly, quietly, and they’d return to the bed, not without first ridding them of the heavy armor they wore every single day.

Allowing their long hair to fall into the floor, they’d change into silken robes, white in nature, and for the first time you finally felt you had seen the old glory of the Ivory Dragon, as they climbed on the bed to lay by your side. They looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was watch them, before shifting in bed until you were lying by their side, curling up into a ball, you’d gaze at them, and they’d nod.

“... Thank you for all of these months…” You’d say, leaning to take their scent, no longer fearing the decay and the pestilence, only feeling warmth, calmness, and mahogany alongside incense. “If a follower and a companion is what you need, know that in me you’ll have both… I’ll become your faithful and devotee… If you allow me…”

They’d only stay silent, before gently bringing your chin up with their hand, setting a soft and silent kiss on your lips, before speaking yet again.

“Rest now, little one… If following me is what you desire, then allow me to become your protector, the source of your devotion, your god… Your lover”

And in the silence of the night, the silence of the world, would two souls intertwine and become one, together, for as long as eternity lasted for you, and for as long as a blink, lasted for them. Let it be known, that mere blink of a life would be their most beloved, until time became the wind that finally blew the light out.

#🌙;moonlit dreams #longan dragon cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x reader #cw ; mentions of injury

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 30: 𝒃𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 / 𝒅𝒂𝒚 19: 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

pairing(s): swiss/aeon words: 1314 notes: they/them aeon (cock/dick for their anatomy, only implied here). a present for dottie: happy birthday @coffeeghoulie 💙

Aeon looks around, nose leading his head in an almost bird-like manner as he takes in the state of the bedroom. There’s twenty or so candles of various sizes and burn stages placed around the room, the walls and furniture cast in a warm amber. All dark wax: navy blues, midnight blacks, and deep crimsons grouped together in trios of moody hues. A dying joint sits in the ashtray on the nightstand—it’s the only scent in the room aside from Swiss’ own. Something light, not too strong; pleasantly heady and herbal. 

“What’s with all the candles?” 

Swiss chuckles. He shuts the door behind them and loosely crosses his arms. “It’s called ‘setting the mood’,” he lilts.

They raise their eyebrows. “Hm.” Aeon looks him up and down, not-so-subtly lingering on his forearms. “You wanted to play with fire.”

“These things aren’t mutually exclusive, baby.” Swiss flashes his thousand-watt smile, and Aeon can’t help but roll their eyes and drift into him. They slip into his arms and wrap theirs around his waist. Leaning back their head into the cradle of Swiss’ hands when they come up to the back of their neck. 

Aeon hums. Smiles lazily. “I have something else you can play with,” they say softly, picking the hem of his t-shirt out of his jeans and slipping their hands underneath. They sway their hips a little too, just for good measure. Swiss rumbles, sultry. The quint ghoul runs their knobby fingers over the softness of his lower back, then slides one of their hands to his front. Palm flat against his stomach and drifting upwards. 

“Oh, I bet you do,” the multi ghoul says huskily. He grins, pulling Aeon in until their lips meet, half a kiss and half a shared, breathless laugh. 

Swiss’ mouth is warm, inviting—he always makes it too easy for them to open up immediately, tongues gliding out to greet the other in the space between their eager lips. Aeon tastes the weed lingering in his mouth. His natural mint and whiskey flavor. They never tire of it, no matter how many times they’ve tasted each other by now.

Swiss drops one hand to their waist instead, pulling them flush to his own body. Aeon groans approvingly and brings that hand on his tummy higher, higher. Fingers curling into his chest hair and thigh slotting between his legs.

The multi ghoul huffs. “Make me crazy, baby,” he breathes into their mouth. “So fuckin’ crazy.”

“Yeah?” Aeon teases. They trail kisses down his jawline, his neck. Hand dragging back down his torso until they’re palming the tent in Swiss’ jeans, earning them a hiss. “Gonna show me how crazy?” they mumble into his pulsepoint. 

“Fuck.” Swiss’ head dips back as he grinds into Aeon’s hand. They curl their fingers, pressing them deeper, groping him through the denim. His scent turns spicy and sweet all at once. Flooding their senses with nothing but a potent cloud of Swiss. They throb between their legs when his hands start to roam, chubbing up as he digs his those thick fingers into their waist, their back, petting over the nape of their neck and pawing at their ass. 

When the multi ghoul pulls them into a heated kiss, it’s Aeon’s turn to swear. “Shit—want you,” they pant. 

Swiss laughs breathlessly. “Didn’t even get to any romance yet.”

“Don’t have to—can have me however you want.”

The room spins.

The statement steals the breath from Swiss’ lungs, twisting it into a devastated groan. He grips Aeon tighter. Anchoring them both to the spot and resting their foreheads together. His heart’s pounding against his ribs, and he’s sure the quint can probably hear it—probably feel it against that skinny chest of theirs. 

“Baby,” he says slowly. His voice breaks with the surge of want that rushes up from his core, but it’s the nerves that he chokes on. Swiss swallows in poor effort to shove it all down. He cradles their cheeks in his hands, thumbs grazing over their cheekbones. Specks of ultraviolet in their otherwise charcoal gray eyes flash in the candlelight as they gaze up at him with parted lips and furrowed brow. Concerned despite the obvious arousal between them. 

“What?” 

Swiss takes a full breath. “Aeon,” he says softly. Their eyebrows raise a centimeter. “My beautiful bug.” They light up at the word ‘my’, chirping quietly. 

Lucifer, he can’t keep it in any longer. “I love you.”

Aeon’s eyes go wide. They stare at him for a painfully long moment, eyes flitting all over his face. Five, six, seven . . .The silence is maddening, but Swiss doesn’t dare break it by accidentally saying something stupid. Their fingers curl into his shirt a few seconds later and they force out: “Oh, the candles . . .”

He sighs, tension between his shoulders dissipating. “Yeah, the candles,” Swiss laughs. “Hopeless romantic, you know me. But ya kinda jumped me before I had the chance to be sappy.”

“Sorry,” they say, mouth scrunching to the side as they hold back a smile. “Could have stopped me.”

“Like hell I was gonna stop you.”

Aeon shrugs. “Fair.” But they smile big then, pulling Swiss into a hug. The multi ghoul wraps them up easily, resting his cheek against the top of their head. They smell like Dew’s shampoo and the electric zing of oncoming storms. Metallic and clear and apple-y. They blow a great big sigh into his chest, and it’s all wonderfully domestic. Something about them not realizing he had wanted to craft a certain ambiance and just falling into their usual, casual routine makes him smile. It’s just so them. He isn’t even bothered by Aeon not saying it back; he just needed to say it, lest it tumble from his lips at a random moment before his brain could stop his mouth from uttering the three words. 

Swiss sways them a little in the short span of silence, gaze lost in the flickering flames off to his right. That lingering feeling of arousal creeps back up, but he’s just as content to preserve this little bubble of warmth for as long as Aeon will let him. 

It’s not much longer though, the quint ghoul soon pulling his head out from their embrace. Their face has a little color to it, a slight purple hue over their otherwise deep gray complexion. Swiss can’t help but grin at how cute it makes them. 

“What are you smiling at?”

Swiss grins wider. “Just you. My cute little bug.”

Aeon shakes their head, amused. “You know that I love you, too, right?” 

A flash of giddiness surges through his chest, the entire cavity of it filling with affection. “You love me, too.” It’s a statement, not a question. Swiss fights his cheeks hard from dimpling with delight. 

“Yes? That’s what I just—mmpf!”

Swiss dives in and captures them in a kiss, cutting off the rest of their sentence. The ‘yes’ was more than enough for him. He kisses them like he hasn’t seen them in a hundred years—hands curled in their hair, mouths slotted perfectly together, and love seeping from every possible pore. Aeon melts so easily for him, humming contentedly when he licks over their top lip. Where it was heated and fervid before, it’s deep and tender now: a slow meeting and parting of their mouths, over and over without any intent of stopping. 

“Fuck, Swiss,” Aeon mumbles against his lips after who knows how many kisses. He takes it as an invitation to lick into their mouth, leaning into the hand that’s started skirting back under his shirt. “Please.”

Pleasure coils hot in his stomach. Renewed enthusiasm taking over as they start getting needy again. “Anything,” Swiss rumbles, grabbing at their waist. Pulling them in until they’re flush against him once more, until he can feel them throb through their pants. 

“Take me,” Aeon breathes. “Make me yours.”

please consider reblogging ♡ divider by @ghuleh-recs

#mushy may 2024 #the band ghost fanfic #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss/aeon #aeon/swiss #swiss x aeon #aeon x swiss #phantom/swiss #swiss/phantom #swiss x phantom #phantom x swiss #the band ghost #ficlet #nonbinary aeon #nonbinary phantom

[bengiyo]

I’ve just finished my rewatch of Go Ahead, a cdrama you will probably never watch because it’s het and mostly about family trauma. But it’s one of my all time favs and one of the best things about it is the strong found family theme—it’s essentially about three broken families and how they join together as one to support each other. It got me thinking about my fav found family narratives, and especially those that are explicitly queer, because there’s often added life or death stakes in those stories. What are your favorite found family stories in queer media?

This is an interesting question, and I think you qualified appropriately right away by bringing up the life or death stakes of this kind of narrative. I think I want to make a distinction between "finding your people" and "found family" because I think these things often get blurred in romance stories.

Favorite Queer Found Family Stories

For me, a good found family story has to be about the found family component of it. Romance can be a significant portion of the story, but the primary driving relationships need to be about the queers being each other's primary network. I think estrangement from your bio family is a critical component, because knowing you are all each other has is a big part of it.

POSE (2018-2021)

It's really impossible to establish what found family looks like without referring to a show about ballroom culture in NYC in the 90s. We were dying. We were being abandoned. The houses gave people a place to be and a sense of purpose. These kids called their leaders Mother for a reason. Every single queer character in this show was saved by another character in this show before going onto save another character in this show. No show has ever done it like POSE.

Despite their fighting and bickering, Elektra saved Blanca. Blanca would go on to form her own house and provide shelter and support for multiple kids. There is a desperation to queer found family for me that makes it so important. Pray Tell's final choices still resonate with me to this day.

Queer as Folk (2000-2005)

We remember all of the fucking in this show, but this is another show where the queers are their primary support network. Their families aren't really there for them. Justin is kicked out of the house and lives with Debbie for a while, and is nursed by his community after being bashed. Michael and Ben adopt Hunter. Brian donates for Lindsey and Melanie. Debbie housed Brian in the past. Emmett's family disowned him, so his friends are all he's got. The community rallies constantly to protect each other.

Part of what makes this show so special as found family, like with POSE, is how often these folks piss each other off and get into huge fights. They fall out repeatedly in this show over fundamental disagreements that are not easily solved. Some of those fights are ugly in a way only people who know you best can hurt you.

The Fosters (2013-2018)

There's no way I'm not including my favorite TV lesbians of all time raising all them kids on this post. These two public servants found each other, made the difficult choices to be together, and keep expanding their family with more fosters and adoptees over time because there's always more love to go around. This show tackled how important it is to be able to call people family, and what it means for that to be a choice over an obligation. These two always found a way to make it work for their complex family and gave a budding queer the space to grow and be a brat of a teenager after saving him from having the shit beaten out of him for wearing a dress.

Sense8 (2015-2018)

From the directors of The Matrix (1999) and the creator of Babylon 5 (1993-1998), few shows are as queer as Sense8. Eight strangers suddenly become connected to each other and cannot turn it off. Half of them are queer in some way, and it's about their adaptation to each other and looking out for each other as they're literally being hunted. This is one of my favorite sci-fi concepts of all time, and I love the way their relationships outside of their cluster play into their dynamics.

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (2022- )

This is a recent favorite for this, particularly because of Season 2. In Season 1, we know that Nomoto puts a distance between herself and her family because of the pressure to become a wife. In season 2, we learn that Kasuga has severed ties with her family because of the expectation that she surrender her own life to take care of her family. When she tells Nomoto this, Nomoto gets angry on Kasuga's behalf and they decide to commit to living together. They are also building their community around them, and I better see everyone in their new apartment in season 3.

Gameboys 2 (2022)

So much of what's going wrong for Gav in this season is that he doesn't feel connected to the rest of his bio family after his grandmother passed, and he's desperately holding onto all of the friendships he has because he's so lonely. It's why he's still close with both of his exes (Pearl and Terrence), and why he won't let them go. Also, he's falling apart and Pearl is the one making sure his bills get paid on time.

The Shape of Water (2017)

Shout out to my man Doug Jones for always playing creatures that everyone is attracted to. The way this movie is so much about undesirables choosing to love each other and saving each other. Go watch it if you haven't. This film is not about a sexual awakening. It's about loving inside of a white capitalist structure.

Not Queer But Good

Shout outs for my faves. Some have queer characters in them, but aren't inherently or explicitly queer.

The Golden Girls (1985-1992)

No one did it like them. A bunch of aging women living together and making the most of their lives still resonates almost 40 years later.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008)

All of these kids are estranged from their families, and are building out something that works over the course of the show.

The Good Place (2016-2020)

I really love that this is a show about people who didn't get it together in life getting it together in the afterlife because they decided to work together, and then to care about each other. When you're literally being tortured by devils, you're all you've got.

What Doesn't Fit?

This is where things can get a little bit wiggly, but why I want to draw a line on this. I think that shows about queer friendship are important, but I also think that there's a difference between "we are all we've got" and "these people are the most important to me." So we end up with shows like the following.

Noah's Arc (2005-2006)

I often call this the Black answer to Queer as Folk, but I don't think it had time to fully-develop the found family themes in a way that QaF did with its much-longer runtime. Noah and his friends are super codependent and absolutely there for each other, but I don't think the absence of their families is explicitly attributed to their queerness but rather a byproduct of the focus on their gay life dynamics in LA. I love this show dearly, but there isn't a desperation to this that belies the family angst necessary for found family.

For The Boys (2021)

In many ways a spiritual successor to Noah's Arc, this show falls into the same place. The friend trio at the core of this is the most important relationship in their lives, but this show doesn't have the necessary found family angst.

What about QL?

For me, the biggest problem with doing found family in QL is that the primary genre is romance. These shows prioritize the way these relationships will turn romantic in a way that detracts from the found family component even when it's present. Also, because QL focuses so hard on coming of age plotlines, there's an element more of "finding your people" that supercedes any found family dynamics.

I Promised You the Moon (2021) is a good example of this. The primary drama of this show is about the romance between Teh and Oh-aew and the complications they face once they leave Phuket. Oh finds his people there and blossoms from it, but this is a story about how he and Teh can't get over each other.

As much as I love What Did You Eat Yesterday? (2019- ), the only real component of that is in Wataru's character. Kenji gets along with his mom and sisters, and Shiro is working on repairing the relationship with his family the entire time.

With Thai BL especially, I feel like they're big on friend groups, but not as big on found family. New Siwaj loves big friend groups that love each other, evinced by Love Sick (2014-2015), Make It Right (2016-2017), Until We Meet Again (2019), EN of Love (202), My Only 12% (2022), etc. He's done some great work in the space with queer friends, but not really queer found family.

Cheewin, a former collaborator of New's, also loves friend groups that have each other's backs. Probably his best example of that is Secret Crush On You (2022) with that friend quartet. The closest I think he came to found family was Uea in Bed Friend.

Another example that comes close is the unit that forms on their road trip in The End of the World With You (2023). I often think about this group of queers and the kid they adopted screaming to the heavens that they want to live.

Something I love, but which doesn't count for me is Our Dining Table (2023). There are powerful family dynamics here, but like in WDYEY they're adding Yutaka to their family and Yutaka reconciles with his adoptive family. I don't generally think that adding a romantic partner to your family counts as found family. Besides, Yutaka has a stable job and housing.

Final Thoughts

For me, the stakes are pretty high with queer found family, and it really needs to have a queer basis for me to feel strongly about it. Going back to their bio family is not an option, and often times the terms we use for traditional relationships don't always fit properly (yet another reason why Unknown got so much right). I don't think it's queer found family when they're students in college whose families just aren't around because they're paying for their kids to go to school. Finding your queer community as an adult is a huge part of growing up, but a queer found family is there for the really ugly and desperate parts of existence that your friends might not see.

#answered #Ben writes #pose #queer as folk #sense8 #the shape of water #noah's arc #the golden girls #the fosters #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #the good place #avatar: the last airbender #make it right #love sick the series #my only 12% #en of love #secret crush on you #our dining table #bokura no shokutaku #the end of the world with you #bokura no micro na shuumatsu #until we meet again #bl series #thai bl #japanese bl #filipino bl #gameboys 2 #gameboys the series #what did you eat yesterday?

[dawningfairytale]

something i find so fascinating about grace chasity’s brand of christianity is that there’s not much sexism in it? let me explain what i mean.

i come from a christian background and a denomination which, in my state, has allowed women in eldership positions for my whole life. i’m friends with other christians whose denominations Don’t have that and also us christian fundamentalism is very sexist, i know bc have access to social media.

aside from mark’s job being mentioned and karen’s not, as well as her doing the cooking, there’s not a real sense of gender hierarchy in the christian circles in hatchetfield. this applies greatly to the purity culture that pervades abstinence camp and npmd, with the jerris saying that “this is a progressive ministry. we believe men and women should just say no!” often, in fundamentalist circles, while men are encouraged to wait until marriage, so much more pressure is put on the women to “stop the men from stumbling” (yes, it’s bad, this isn’t a post about the horrors of purity culture).

however, in npmd (and even ac to an extent), grace is the one at risk of “stumbling” and blames men. in npmd she very much blames max for her corrupted purity (from her perspective) and that is her motivation for revenge, even before she has sex with his ghost. the responsibility is not on her to “gouge out her own eye”, so to speak, at least not without a greater risk to max. even in ac, she makes tiny sweaters for their Jesus status, which reminds me of when i would scroll down to the comments of a youtube video bc i was scared of being attracted to people (1. not a purity culture thing 2. id like to say that this was a me being scared of liking women thing, and to an extent it was, but i also remember doing it to men. 2017 was a weird time and something was probably awakening in me ngl).

as slightly more proof, she is the only one advocating for removing homecoming in npmd, and in ac she ends as the sole leader of the camp. now, an evangelical’s view of women in ministry varies on person to person (source: like two weeks ago when i was desperately trying to not get myself into a debate with other christian women), unless she’s in an ultra-conservative environment (which she isn’t, it’s middlingly conservative frankly), she would be able to do these on her own. however, this is theatre, it’s a demonstration of her desire for power and acquisition of it. she does not view herself as needing to be subservient to a man. also i think northern baptists (my hc for her) are a little less Bad than southern baptists but anyway.

the interesting thing about this, to me, is that she does share views that i would put in those less “yay women” denominations (yes this about the catholic line i guarantee you it annoys me even more when i encounter it in the real world). there’s the (internalised) homophobia. but not the internalised misogyny. this could be related to the respect given to trans identities by the depictions of idontwannabang and the chasitys in hatchetfield, creating the sense of a more egalitarian Biblical perspective than complimentarian.

like grace has this terrible relationship with purity culture, yeah, but she’s the active agent in it, and she shames the passive object of her affections, the man. that doesn’t happen that often. there are countless videos of “what women should wear to be modest” but men can go to the gym shirtless if they so choose. maybe it’s only interesting to me but still

#grace chasity #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #abstinencia #hatchetfield

[storiesbyjes2g]

Hey Jess! I had a question that I figured other people might want to know as well. I'm always amused at how your game matches sims up to marry or have children. I was wondering, what are your MCCC settings that make it happen so well? I have sims sitting in my 'manage households' and none of them have married or moved out with the 'in game' story progression. What's the secret sauce? 🤣

Howdy, partner! 🤭 It's funny you should ask me this because on my seven mile long list of video ideas I have is a short series about MCCC settings, and this is one subject I wanted to cover. But who knows when I'll get it together and actually record those videos lol. As you could imagine, the secret sauce has many ingredients, so I'll put the rest of this under the cut because it's a lot. Here we go!

Even though I said this is a multipart answer--and it is--I'm gonna split this up into two sections because marriages and pregnancies are two separate entities. Many of the settings are the same, and they both fall under the MC Pregnancy module, but they're still separate, and I think of them differently.

Marriages

Marriage Sim Selection

The first thing you should consider is who you want marrying and if your sims should be included in the process. As you've seen, I like seeing the other sims' lives progress, even if it's messy AF LOL. I especially love this happening in the aDOLTing save because I'm technically not allowed to play with anyone else but Luca right now. BUT, I don't want every single sim there is to get married, leaving no single sims for my sims to date. That's what happened in Emmy's generation and why I added Ali into the world because there were exactly TWO eligible males in the entire world, and I knew one of them would definitely not work out. In the Marriage Sim Selection part of MC Pregnancy, you can specify who can and cannot get married. I'm not gonna through each setting, but here are a few that are important enough to note.

Allow homeless marriage: Unless you regularly add your own sims to the world, I would enable this. Otherwise you probably won't have any marriages happening. This is disabled by default. Yes, you run the risk of your unplayable sims marrying someone hideous, but it's better than them dying alone, right? Plus you can always make them over. Your sim doesn't know the difference anyway lol.

Bypass dorm residents: If you don't enable this, your university students will be eligible for marriages!

Bypass played households: IF you want to be the matchmaker for your sims (the playable ones), turn this on! If you're flexible and don't mind surprises, turn it off.

Bypass active sim romances: This one needs to be in red lol. TURN THIS ON! If your sim is dating an NPC, and you don't want that sim to suddenly turn up married (I'm giggling...you know why), you need this on. I think it's on by default though. The only "gotcha" with this setting is that the relationship has to be significant. Lovebirds status isn't strong enough to prevent a marriage. I usually get my sims into an official relationship as soon as possible to prevent this.

Other Marriage

In the Other Marriage section (MC Pregnancy), there are settings for renaming, moving, etc. after marriage. You should definitely check out the settings to tailor it to how you want your world to be, but I want to call out Use Traits for Marriage. This is a newer setting that I enabled as soon as it launched. It doesn't make sense for Don Lothario to get married in every single save. He has the noncommittal trait! Turning this on will take a sim's traits into consideration before determining if they are eligible for random marriages.

Spouse Sim Selection

In this section, you can do things like allow polygamy and inter-family marrying, specify what % of marriages should be same sex, allow teen marriages, etc. Here are just a few settings I want to call out.

Occupancy Preference: It took me some years to figure this out, but this is honestly the key to my entire setup. This determines which group of NPCs are candidates for marriages and pregnancies by where they live. The choices are homeless only, prefer home sims, living in homes only, and none. I have prefer home sims on. I like neighbors dropping by and seeing them walking around, so I tend to put my sims' friends and sims I like into homes. This setting says when it's time for random marriages and pregnancies to occur, sims living in homes get first dibs. If none of them are eligible, then everyone else will have a chance. I used to have this on none, and I was experiencing waaaaaay too many random marriages. Like, good on the homeless sims for having lives lol, but they were snatching up every single eligible sim and I was like this has to stop lol.

Use Same Age-Group: I've gone back and forth about enabling or disabling this one and finally decided to enable it. This will keep your fresh from high school babies from getting married to someone with one foot in the grave! Sims will only marry other sims in the same age group as them. Back in the day I felt sorry for the elders because they're always single when they die. But I also felt sorry for the baby they married lol. True, when they croak, the kid can find new love, but they've wasted so much time being married to the old sim. So with this on, elders aren't completely out of luck. They can just only marry each other.

Pregnancies

Okay! Now that we know how to let sims get married, let's learn how to knock some up! 😂

I would check out the Offspring section of MC Pregnancy on your own just to get familiar with how you can shape your sims' families and even the children to a certain extent, but let's get to the important stuff.

Other Pregnancy

There's really good stuff in here like allow pregnancy aging, pregnancy duration, and random moods, but the only thing I want to call out is Use Traits for Pregnancy. This will take into account sims traits before they are marked as candidates. It won't prevent sims with the hates children trait from getting knocked up, but it will lower the percentage (which you can specify in another section, I think).

Partner Sim Selection

This is similar to marriage sim selection, and in here I also prefer home sims in the occupancy preferences. I also allow a veeeery tiny percentage for allow affairs. I like tea, what can I say? LOL Not everyone is faithful!

Pregnant Sim Selection

This is similar to spouse selection, and I do not allow homeless pregnancies for the same reasons I don't allow homeless marriages. I have all the same settings enabled from spouse selection, so revisit the above. Additionally, I use days until max age. This prevents a sim from getting pregnant X number of days from the end of whatever lifespan you specify is the oldest to be pregnant. I don't allow elder pregnancies, so this stops my adult sims from getting pregnancy X days from their elder birthday. My number is 10, but you pick whatever makes sense for your lifespans. I do this because I've had waaaaaaay too many sims get pregnant and have babies like the day before their elder birthday, and then they die before the kid is a teenager. I don't want orphans in my game! They make me sad. Besides, in real life, at a certain point women can't have children anymore, so I want my game to be the same.

Days to Run Checks: By default, MCCC will go through this process of marrying and knocking up sims 3 nights a week at midnight, but you can change that to whatever you like here. I thought 3 nights a week was WAY too often, so I only have it run once a week on Fridays.

Pregnancy Percentage: Just because the check runs every week doesn't mean I want someone getting pregnant every week. I'm not trying to create a baby boom. I cut the pregnancy percentage for young adults by half and adults by 75% (since IRL it's harder to get pregnant the older you get). I'm not afraid of a teen pregnancy story, so I do have teen pregnancies on and reduced their percentage by 85%. Even though I wouldn't mind telling that story, I don't want a teen pregnancy epidemic lol. I've had this enabled, but I've yet to have MCCC knock up a teen.

I think I skipped over Marriage Percentage but I use the same logic and similar percentages there too.

Valid Target Ages: HA! I see why I've never had a teen pregnancy lol. Even though I have it on, I never marked it as a valid target age. For whatever reason I only have YA selected. Not sure why. Probably for the best. If a teen pregnancy happens, I'd prefer it be my own sims.

Bonus

I love a little risk and challenge and surprise in my game. This is why I love using lumpinou's mods. I not a micromanager and prefer some things be left to chance. I like being able to try for a baby and it maybe not work that time. I don't like how predictable the game is. So, if you're feeling froggy, here are a few more settings for ya!

MC Woohoo - Woohoo Pregnancy

Risky Woohoo Percent: I used to have YA on 3%, but lumpinou has intergrated her mod with MCCC more, so I don't have this enabled anymore here. (it's controlled by her mod now and I think it's at 5% now). 3% might sound low, but MAN I've had so many oopsie babies on that little 3% lol.

Try for Baby Percent: I lowered mine to 65% just to add some variety and give my sims something to work toward. (No, this is not what caused Luca and Sophia's problem LOL).

MCCC Settings - Relationship Settings

I'm highlighting this because, even though I placed it in the bonus section, I highly recommend you check this out. These are the settings that control if/when sims move in together or break up!

Auto-Relationship Settings

Breakup Settings: You can specify which sim will move out and who the children will live with. Couple relationship change percentage applies a modifier that will make a couple's relationship (dating, not married) increase or decrease over time. I increased mine to 20%. Same thing with spouse relationship change except I only did 10% there.

Move-in Settings: I allow homeless romance move in and kept the romance level to the default. (sweethearts) I also increased the romance move-in percent to 25%.

Bypass Played Household: It should go without saying, but just in case it's not clear, I always want my playable households bypassed because I want to maintain control over what happens to them. About this, I have other households that I don't actually play (in the Pierson save) that I have as playable just to preserve them and prevent anything from happening. So to be clear, unless a household is marked as played, they will be subjected to the random marriages, pregnancies, and relationships.

A few months ago, I FINALLY decided to mark Emmy and Ali as unplayed, hoping that Ali would find love again and that Emmy and Dwayne would move in together. Instead, Alessia got knocked up, and Dwayne put his foot down LOL. Sorry dude. Wish I could help! Well, I could just move her in, but it actually doesn't feel right for the story...but that's an entirely different conversation lol.

Anyhoo...I hope you found something in this novel that helps to spice up your game! Thanks for asking!

#mysimsloveaffair #asks

[captain-hen]

Thinking more than ever the diaz parents coming has to be pre planned. They dont look upset in those stills when eddie probably showing a picture of kim, more just curious whats going on between chris and eddie. In that one tim still with chris and the backpack, theres still a bunch of stuff on the shelves/walls in chris’s room and he only has like a backpack. And I know they love bobby but if there was a serious threat for chris to leave have to think eddie would be doing everything to have chris stay and not in the hospital praying for bobby when bobby has so many other people that love him just as much as eddie. Plus it would be lowkey ooc at this point, at least for ramon, to just take chris instead of encouraging him to fix things with eddie? And in terms of eddie bing upset in those stills w chris, maybe chris is just silent treatmenting him? That would crush me as a parent tbh. Im so scared though lol

no wait this actually does make a lot of sense. and yeah, the show has been trying to repair eddie's relationship with his parents and them taking chris would destroy it beyond repair so...i really hope you're right!

#god i need to go to sleep #neethu answers #anon #911 spoilers

[1tsteatime]

REFERENCE TO JON AND MARTIN IN EPISODE 17

RIGHT HELLO I NEED TO KNOW I'M NOT CRAZY HERE.

I loved episode 17, and this isn't even to talk about the VERY interesting details to do with Celia at the start, and the jmj error at the end (trust me, those are whole crates of worms to be opened), but this post in particular is about a very quick, very sly detail at the start of the statement.

Allow me, if you will, to quote directly from the transcript:

"Anyway, there was a new receptionist behind the old front desk, some big, soft-looking guy who stumbled over every word. A year ago, it would probably have wound me right up, but what can I say? Therapy works.

There was another patient too, some bookish-looking guy with serious city miles. I used to play the game “what are you in for,” where I would pass the time guessing… well. You know. In my head he was definitely some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids or something."

PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE HEARING SEASON 1 JON AND MARTIN? Let's check the list:

Big, soft looking guy: that runs true with every canon description we've heard about Martin, not to mention ALL the fanart. Not to conflate fanon with canon, but here it's pretty cut and dry. Besides, 'stumbled over every word'? Now that is Martin to a tee, particularly in season 1.

Bookish-looking guy: oh, it's not like we know a certain stuffy archivist who is known for saying 'good lord' and describing merry-go-rounds as 'thrilling'. Again, I'm not saying those are the same thing but COME ON. The next bit is also interesting: 'serious city miles'. That can refer to someone who looks rough due to life incidents or substance use, and we do know that Jon is a smoker. The stroking orchids bit I have no clue about, likely just a funny line.

Their roles in this cameo are interesting as well; Martin as a receptionist and Jon as a patient. Besides thinking of a dozen fanfic AUs that would leap from this topic, it sort of reverses the power dynamic? Well, not exactly, but the roles do make sense given what we know about them: Martin being very caring and compassionate, but not the most qualified, and Jon's mental state being...less than stellar, this totally checks out.

Now, I'm not banking any firm theories on this; honestly I think we're still too early in the podcast to have a semblance of the 'real' plot, but if this is foreshadowing instead of just a cute nod to the characters, here is the proposal I'll make:

What if the dimension shifting didn't happen perfectly? This episode already deals with identity, and body vs mind vs soul. What if that is Jon and Martin's actual bodies, but their souls got separated? Now these incorporeal souls need a host...maybe an old computer database? What if those 'city miles' weren't just any old marks, but worm holes, desolation burns, our Jon's scars and wounds. What if their bodies have forgotten what happened to them?

There is a good chance that this goes totally nowhere. Still though, I'm calling it early. So excited to see where this all goes!

#tma #tmp #tmagp #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #tmp spoilers #tmp theory

[morlock-holmes]

Part of my confusion about "Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria" is that it's really just... not a good term? It doesn't really reflect what it's supposed to, which is the idea that some teenagers essentially take on a trans identity as a sort of social role spurred on by friend groups.

I think that this is likely to be actually true in at least some sense, so I was amazed at how unconvincing the Littman paper which coined the term actually is. The parental narratives advanced in that paper are just unbelievable on their face.

Ever since the gay rights movement I've felt that our vocabulary for talking about this stuff is deliberately incredibly stupid, for reasons I haven't quite been able to suss out.

In the gay rights battles, everybody got together and agreed that there were exactly two possibilities:

Gay people are born that way

Gay people made a choice to be gay

I think this is really dumb because those are really obviously not the only two options, and also because there's lots of biological "born this way" things we still treat or try to eliminate, and lots of choices that are still incredibly important to protect.

But also, like, okay, think about sexual fetishes. Say you have a guy with a cheerleader fetish. Cheerleaders are a contingent social phenomenon; no 12th century Breton had a cheerleader fetish. The possibility of such a fetish arose with the invention of the cheerleader.

But it's just as obvious that people do not choose their fetishes the way that they choose, say, a new car. Nobody says, "After listing out the pros and cons, I felt that having a cheerleader fetish was the best choice, because it combines a little bit of exotic spice while still being mainstream enough that it can't be used as blackmail if people find out about it."

No, one day you just realize that you think cheerleaders are really hot.

I do tend to think that gender identity is, for most people, a lot less immediately set in stone than sexual orientation is. My personal impression is that the vast majority of people start to understand very quickly whether they are attracted to men, women, or both, and that they only tell themselves differently because they fear social censure.

I'm not really convinced that the same is true of gender identity; I think that for an extremely large number of people it does function a bit more like a fetish, in that there are people who encounter the idea for the first time, go, "Huh, yeah that's cool or whatever" and after repeated encounters come to think, "Actually I am really into this."

I'm very, very suspicious of the tendency to then assert that this must inherently, then, be a discovery of something that always existed within the person since birth.

There's also the fact that gender roles exist, and people want to be legible to people around them.

For a lot of people, dressing up as a vampire on Halloween is fun, but dressing up as a vampire to go grocery shopping in June would be deeply embarrassing. Because on Halloween all the people around you understand why you're dressed that way and your dress makes you part of a larger social whole; in June you're going against the grain, marking yourself out from the people around you, probably drawing stares and hidden smiles.

Because sex roles in our society are so set in stone, there is a certain extreme dissatisfaction with not following them, even when allowed to do so.

I can wear chokers and frills and pretty hair ribbons if I want, but the women around me can do that anywhere in the country and have people think of it as normal, as obvious, rather than *a statement*.

Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, from reading the Littman paper, seems to refer to a parental conviction that their child essentially got the idea to be trans from a peer group who convinced them they were trans despite a lack of gender dysphoria in childhood.

Like I said, the general narrative is really, really hard to believe at face value, for example:

A total of 63.8% of the parents have been called “transphobic” or “bigoted” by their children for one or more reasons, the most common being for: disagreeing with the child about the child’s self-assessment of being transgender (51.2%); recommending that the child take more time to figure out if their feelings of gender dysphoria persist or go away (44.6%); expressing concerns for the child’s future if they take hormones and/or have surgery (40.4%); calling their child by the pronouns they used to use (37.9%); telling the child they thought that hormones or surgery would not help them (37.5%); recommending that their child work on other mental health issues first to determine if they are the cause of the dysphoria (33.3%); calling the child by their birth name (33.3%); or recommending a comprehensive mental health evaluation before starting hormones and/or surgery (20.8%)

So, like, the whole tenor of the paper is that these are basically very liberal parents who are sort of being cut off by their kids for no reason, but like...

This is typical of the general weasel wording used by Littman. Are the third of parents who called their kids by pronouns they used to use going, "She - Oops, he, I'm sorry" one time and getting blasted? Do they claim to be trying but just get it wrong literally every single time? Or do they just flat out refuse to call their child by their preferred pronouns?

When my brother was first entering high school, he joined the Sea Scouts, a division of the Boy Scouts dedicated to learning about sailing. He later entered a maritime college and has had a succession of maritime jobs, which will likely be his career for the rest of his life.

Is that the result of social contagion or was he born that way?

I think the question is obviously both absurd and irrelevant.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I Am Blackened Bones (Part 12)

It is the perfect day for some meditation if Aang did say so. There is still dew on the grass and raindrops from last night’s rainfall still tucked into the leaves of the ferns. Last night had been a good one for all of them. He and Katara had finally gotten a full night of sleep and the spirit had seemed perfectly content to sleep in the rain, knowing that she wouldn’t break into a blaze. Once or twice, he caught her messing around in a puddle. She had brought Katara a particularly large warm that she had retrieved from the puddle. Katara hadn’t appreciated the gift nearly as much as Toph did. 

Does Aang feel bad for Katara? Yeah. But the spirit did make a friend in Toph in giving her a new means to prank Sokka.

This morning the sun is high and glinting off of the remaining raindrops and the spirit has been freshly dunked. She is now sitting, not very still, in front of him. That might be difficult—she does not like to sit still. 

Aang smiles. “I’m so glad that you’re finally letting me give this a try.” He is glad and terrified to an equal degree. The spirit looks up at him with innocent, trusting eyes. He is so scared; it would be so easy to break that trust even if that is exactly what he is trying to avoid. 

The spirit doesn’t seem to be nervous at all. Had they left it to burn, he imagines that it would be burning a low and easy natural orange. “I’m going to be doing most of the work. All you have to do is sit still and…I guess just let me in,” he gently taps her head,  “when you sense my presence.”

The tilt of her head can mean either that she is very confused or that she understands perfectly. If he remembers correctly, a tilt to the right means that she gets it and a tilt to the left means that she is completely lost. It could also mean that she is entirely uninterested. But the intensity of her stare tells him that she is both invested and aware of what he has just told her. 

“Okay. Well then, here we go.” He takes her hand. Without its outline of fire it is rather cool. Cool like the damp wood of the banyans and mangroves. It has the same texture too. It is heavier than usual he notices—heavy with retained water. That might just be a good thing, if this journey into her mind doesn’t work, she might just be waterlogged enough to be free of fire for a while. 

He closes his eyes. That is where he will start; he will focus on the spirit’s hand. Cool, heavy, rough to the touch. A little swollen, he realizes with his deepening focus. Maybe she has too much water. It doesn’t seem to bother her though. The fire has burned away mosses and lichens that might have grown upon her woodsy arms. But he feels chunks of hardened lava in the spaces where fungi probably would grow. 

And then her hands begin to grow lighter. Lighter has he retreats further from her physical form and closer to her soul. 

Aang’s mind is empty for a blink. The space he awakens when he opens his mind’s eye is mostly dark. Dark save for a vivid orange glow quite far off in the distance. The glow that can only be the fire spirit. 

His heart leaps. Why is she so far away!?

He opens his mouth to call out for her but he has no name to call out. And so he runs. He dashes towards that brilliant blaze and to his relief, it does not get further as he wanders closer. In fact, the fire only grows larger and larger still until he realize that he hadn’t been looking at the fire spirit at all but at the start of a burning labyrinth. 

He swallows hard but the fire doesn’t move. Not that it isn’t still unpleasant. He is already dripping with sweat. The labyrinth crackles and shifts. It doesn’t make any sense; usually these kinds of blocks are in place to keep intruders out and prevent those who have successfully breached from reaching sensitive secrets. But the Fire Spirit had very eagerly welcomed him in…

Unless he had misread the tilting of her head.

“Hey!” He calls out into the blaze. “Hey, where are you!?”

He takes his first step into the furnace. What he finds is not a mischievous spirit but burning books spat from torched shelves. Rows upon rows of bookshelves that make up the walls of this burning labyrinth. There are hour glasses too, towering ones positioned one per every five shelves. They have golden sand with blue flakes and golden dragons to perch upon them. Cautiously he takes the first coroner. He leaps nearly out of his britches upon coming face to face with a massive komodo rhino sculpture. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Okay. This is fine.”

He bunches his fists and plunges further into the maze. Turn after turn, left right, right, left, straight, straight, straight…

He has gone straight for so long. 

Maybe he had chosen wrong. 

Maybe this will go on forever…

He doesn’t know for how long he has been wandering, traversing this endless hall, passing what very well could be the same burning portrait over and over again. Long enough for him to start considering a retreat. But if he does and the Fire Spirit is here he could leave her trapped within her own mind and so he stops. He turns to look at the burnt photograph. A pointless thing to do, really, it is burnt far beyond comprehension. All but for the bottom right corner. There are no discernible objects depicted in the paint but there is lettering; ‘to welcome a new candle; born 85 AG’.

Any hopes he had of finding a clue in the portrait deflate, and he with that hope. There have been ten thousands of people who were born in the Fire Nation in 85 AG.

He keeps walking. Walking until he passes a burning doll on the floor. Walking until he comes to a door, large and red and embellished with a Fire Nation insignia. He grits his teeth and pushes it open; what other choice does he have?

He can leave. 

He could certainly do that…

But what kind of person would he be if he did that?

The door closes behind him. 

He nearly screams when he sees that he is back where he had first started. It was maddening that first time and it is maddening the second time. And the third time. He is on his fourth time. This time instead of doing a pattern of left straight left he tries a pattern of right straight right. 

“Come on, where are you?” He whispers more to himself. 

The longer he wanders the more oppressive the place becomes. The furnace has become a complete inferno and it seems to tilt and close in on him with every step, coaxing him to flee. To let go and retreat back to the safety of his own mind and body. To the safety of the physical world.

He hates energybending. 

It isn’t natural. 

There are so many opportunities for things to go wrong and he has a feeling that he is about to come upon several of them. 

“Please! If you can hear me, come out! I’m trying to help you!” 

He swears that he sees a silhouette in the blaze. A small shadow peeking out from behind a burning pillar. He hasn’t passed pillars yet. He releases a breath, at least this is new. Maybe he is getting somewhere. 

Maybe that is why he can see the silhouette. 

Why he can feel something watching him from within the blaze. His stomach absolutely squirms. He really ought to leave. Surely Katara would understand. The Spirit can probably find her own way out, it is her mind after all. 

“Please!” He tries again. And then once more, very quietly. Posture slumped with defeat and exhaustion he makes another right. The presence grows stronger. Another step. Stronger. Another step. Stronger. Another step…

It throws itself from the fire and Aang screams. And the Fire Spirit screams. He lands upon his rear. And the Fire Spirit slinks back. He quickly gets to his feet and gathers himself. “No. No wait!” He tries not to raise his voice. “You wanted me to come here, remember? We’re trying to help put the fire out.” 

The Spirit takes another step back. 

“It’s me, the Avatar. I promised Katara…”

The spirit halts. 

“I promised her that I would help you remember? Can you help me, help you put all of this fire out?”

.oOo.

Her head hurts. It hurts so terribly. More than it ever has. Sounds have no meaning. Shapes have no meaning. Nothing has meaning. In this place there is so much of everything; every color, every word, every scent, and mathematical equation. This place is so full of everything that it has nothing at all. 

Memories…her own, someone else’s? Her own and someone else's? It doesn't matter, they pass so rapidly and so in sync that she can’t begin to decipher them. She isn’t even aware that she is seeing memories. She isn’t aware that she is hearing every word that she has ever—never?—heard. Every word that she has or hasn’t spoken. Every word that has or hasn’t been spoken to her. All at once. 

She clutches her hands to her head. 

There is one phrase; 20 to 55 inches. 4 tons. Black or white komodo rhino. 59 inches. 7 tons. White or black komodo rhino. 39 inches. 7 tons. Greater one horned komodo rhino. 60 inches. 10,000 pounds. Caldera ash komodo rhino.

Finally.

Finally there is a pulse of relief. It lasts for the span of time that it takes to listen and repeat that mantra. 20 to 55 inches. 4 tons. Black or white komodo rhino. 59 inches. 7 tons. White or black komodo rhino. 39 inches. 7 tons. Greater one horned komodo rhino. 60 inches. 10,000 pounds. Caldera ash komodo rhino.

And she latches to it once again.

Just like old times. 

Yes. 

She remembers. 

Old times. 

There was a time before all of this. 

But what was it? 

What was it?

“Remember?” The word cuts through her mantra. It is so close to her. She tries to block it out. “Remember?” 

She doesn’t. Or does she? She remembers something but perhaps it is not the thing that she is supposed to be remembering. Who is she? What is she? “Remember?” NO! No she doesn’t and it is driving her mad! She has already been driven mad! She is burning, burning, burning. And she can’t remember a thing.

Another word stands out amongst the colorful chaos, and fire, and the other words. “Katara.” It isn’t just a word. It is a concept. No, a name. A name that she can tether to one of the memories that leap from the pages of burning books into her field of vision. This one hangs in the air in front of her. 

But it isn’t the Katara that she knows. 

This Katara hurts her. 

This Katara trapes her beneath ice and she can’t breathe. 

But then her Katara holds her. She remembers that. That memory is true. 

“Remember?” It is the Avatar’s voice she realizes. 

And yes. She thinks that she is starting to remember. 

“I promised her that I would help you remember? Can you help me, help you put all of this fire out?” He tells her gently. She listens to him as intently as she can and, at last, the other voices begin to quiet. One by one they taper off. The memories and their images return to their respective book pages and the shapes begin to right themselves. The mathematical equations retreat back to wherever mathematical equations dwell.

There is only one sound left. One that too is beginning to taper off, “20 to 55 inches. 4 tons. Black or white komodo rhino. 59 inches. 7 tons. White or black komodo rhino. 39 inches. 7 tons. Greater one horned komodo rhino. 60 inches. 10,000 pounds. Caldera ash komodo rhino.”

“What?” The Avatar asks. 

But those are the only words that she knows how to shape. “Remember.” She says although it lacks meaning. Really she is saying it just to say it. While the way his lips have moved to make that sequence of sounds is fresh in her mind. “What?” She repeats, trying to move her mouth the way that he does. “What? Remember? What, remember? Remember what?” It doesn’t sound exactly the same on her tongue. She is probably pronouncing it wrong. 

So she says once more the one thing that she does know how to say. “20 to 55 inches. 4 tons…”

“I don’t understand.” The Avatar sounds as though he is on the verge of tears. 

“I don’t understand.” She mimics with just as much distress. She doesn’t realize just how befitting it is of her to say. 

The Avatar rubs his hands over his face. 

“Come on, let's get you out of here.” The Avatar suggests. 

But she doesn’t move. She doesn’t want to leave. She wants to understand. She thinks that she is so close. 

“We can try again but I think that we both need to come a little more prepared.” The Avatar says.

The spirit shakes her head. “No.”

“No?” The Avatar asks. 

“No.” She says again.

“No as in you don’t want to do this again? Or…”

“Now.” 

This time he is the one doing the repeating. “Now?” 

And the Fire Spirit takes his hand and she leads him to a door. It isn’t too far from where they stand. But The Avatar is in distress.

“Oh no! No, no! I’ve already been here, this is back to where I started.” 

She supposes that she can’t blame him for not having seen the door. It is affixed to the floor and she is the key. Her body fits perfectly into the keyhole and she nestles herself into it. Things are less painful when she awakens again.

“Where are we?” 

They are back in the dark place. She hasn’t been here in a long time. He hasn’t been here once. But she doesn’t know how to form the word ‘dark’ or the word ‘place’. And she can’t answer his next question either. 

“What are we supposed to do here? I don’t know…” 

She follows the Avatar’s gaze. 

Follows it right into the darkness.

Follows it right to where the darkness becomes blue.

She and the Avatar creep closer. Closer to the figure bathing in blue. 

The Fire Spirit is close enough now.

She sees the girl and her heart sears a violent orange. 

The spirit creeps closer. And closer still. And with a smaller proximity, she realizes that she is staring at a woman, not a girl. But the woman is small. Small and lanky and bruised. Her eyes are hollow. She is as dull as the fire spirit is vivid. As dreary as the fire spirit is bright.

The Fire Spirit peers at the Avatar with a question burning in her mind. She doesn’t know how to ask. The words are there but she isn’t sure how to move her mouth to form the words. She has no sand nor dirt to convey the question. 

Who is she? The spirit thinks.

“Who is she?” The woman speaks.

The spirit jumps and the woman flinches. 

The Avatar’s mouth falls agape. 

And her body bursts into flames. The spirit screeches and the woman cries. The spirit has very few words but here in this place it doesn’t matter because the woman likes to say what the spirit thinks; “help me, Avatar.”

#avatar the last airbender #azula #aang #fanfiction

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Listen. I've been a vegetarian for more than half my life and maybe I've just lost my mind but there's something so fucking funny to me abt eating fish. Like yeah I'm gonna pick the meat off that weird swimmy little bastard. Plucked it outta the ocean. Not even gonna cook it. Yummy fish meat. Or eating a catfish like. Yeah. I wanna eat that creature that looks like a sentient tube of mud. Good stuff.

#this is probably one of those things that only make sense to me #i just think eating fish is objectively funny. #i dont know that ive ever eaten a fish. i think i used to like shrimp when i was real little? and hated crab? idk i must have hated fish #i also think it would be fun to be a vegetarian who does eat insects. like i would try eattinf bugs if the texture wasnt fucking horrible #anyway i just think fish are neat and i think its funny when ppl eat them #pull them up outta the water for their tender fish flesh 🐟 #unrelated #lol im just avoiding things i need to do

[cozy-the-overlord]

Catching up on the whole watcher situation because I ironically stopped watching their channel regularly because I didn’t like how expensively produced their shows were compared to Buzzfeed Unsolved’s simplicity

#i didn’t have a problem with them changing the way they did things or anything #like it made sense that they would want to have a significant departure from their Buzzfeed style after leaving Buzzfeed #i just didn’t like it as much #so i would only watch occasionally if i needed something to listen to in the background #the fact that they are now trying to put their content behind a paywall #because production is so expensive #is wild to me #like imo the production actively made the show less enjoyable #why are you spending money you don’t have on it??? #idk it just makes me sad #like i know the YouTube documentarians i watch are probably going to end up doing videos on this #usually with those videos i’m the one from the outside looking in on some drama around a person i’ve never heard about before #but i was a fan of ryan and shane since high school #I have some of their Buzzfeed unsolved merch #it’s sad that people i looked up to turned out to be so out of touch on so many levels #watcher