Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Where The Fuck Is The Garlic Bread?! •|| EVERYONE ||•

[A/N: This is how I cope. Uncontrollable chaos.]

Prompt:  They once again have dinner at Autumn and Winter's house... Things.. Go .. I don't know how things went.

It was supposed to be a simple dinner gathering at Autumn and Winter's place—a cozy evening with friends, no expectations, just good food and conversation. They’d even managed to convince Autumn to put down the wine bottle long enough to cook, and Mia had promised not to make too many sarcastic comments about the menu. It was going to be perfect.

Well, that was the plan.

The evening kicked off with everyone arriving, looking surprisingly well-put-together, given the usual level of chaos they brought. Autumn was in the kitchen, happily stirring a pot, while Winter set the table, humming to himself. Mia, of course, had already made herself comfortable on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. Charlotte and Carly had brought their famous appetizers, which they were setting up, while Reece tried to talk Clodagh into trying a bite of something weird and fancy.

Things were going well. Until the first mistake happened.

“I swear I left the garlic bread right here,” Autumn muttered, opening and closing the oven in disbelief. She turned to Winter. "My sweet, did you touch the garlic bread?”

Winter raised an eyebrow. “Why would I touch the garlic bread? I’ve got my hands full with the table.”

“Well, then where the hell did it go?” Autumn huffed, peeking into every drawer and cupboard, now visibly panicking. “It was the one thing I said I could definitely make, and now it’s gone!”

Mia, without missing a beat, called from the couch. “Check your phone. I bet you have an email from it. Garlic bread’s probably out there, living its best life in cyberspace.”

Winter couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re right, Mia. I’m sure the bread emailed its resignation letter.”

Autumn shot Winter a glare but didn’t have time to snap back. The next disaster struck.

Reece had been chatting with Clodagh, but he turned his body at just the wrong moment, and in a heroic display of coordination, he knocked over a bottle of wine—straight onto the stack of napkins Charlotte had carefully folded.

“Oh, no!” Charlotte gasped, diving to rescue the napkins. “My masterpiece!”

“Don’t worry,” Reece said, trying to save face. “We’ll just call it… vintage napkin art?”

But before anyone could react, Carly, who had been running around the kitchen trying to set the appetizers, stepped back—and right into a bowl of mashed potatoes that had somehow slid off the counter. The bowl toppled, sending a tidal wave of potatoes splattering across the floor.

Everyone froze, staring at the mashed potatoes as if they were an enemy that had invaded the party.

“Did you… did you just…?” Shibhon began, blinking in disbelief.

Carly blinked back. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. My bad.”

Marjorie, who had been laughing at the entire spectacle, grinned. “Oh, it’s like a damn disaster movie. Where’s the popcorn?”

Sorcha raised an eyebrow. “We had mashed potatoes. Now we’ve got… potato shrapnel.”

Mia, ever the problem-solver, raised her glass. “To a meal I didn’t cook, but sure as hell will be cleaning up.”

“I’m starting to think maybe we should’ve ordered takeout,” Reece muttered, trying to wipe up some wine off the floor with a dish towel.

Winter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Next time, let’s just go to a restaurant. It’s easier than trying to eat in this war zone.”

Charlotte held up her hands, smiling despite herself. “Okay, okay, but can we just get one thing clear—who is responsible for the garlic bread?” she demanded.

“I checked the email,” Mia said, raising a finger like it was some profound revelation. “It didn’t say anything about the garlic bread. You’re on your own with that one.”

Autumn groaned. “I’ll just—wait, I’ll make some more. I can still fix this.” She rushed back into the kitchen, while the rest of the group began trying to salvage what they could. Winter was attempting to wipe wine off the couch, Reece was apologizing to Charlotte for his “vintage napkin art,” and Carly—who had nothing better to do at the moment—was sitting on the floor, laughing at how ridiculous the situation had become.

After a solid 15 minutes of chaos, Autumn reemerged from the kitchen, victorious, holding a fresh batch of garlic bread. “Aha!” she called, holding it high like a trophy.

Everyone stared at her, deadpan.

“Look, it’s the garlic bread,” Carly said. “All hail the garlic bread.”

But just as everyone was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Shibhon, who had been quietly enjoying her wine, raised her hand. “Uh… does anyone else hear that?”

Everyone froze, listening intently. It was then they heard it—the distinct sizzle of something burning.

“Oh no,” Autumn gasped, rushing back into the kitchen. “I left the potatoes on the stove—”

Winter put his hands up in defeat. “This was meant to be a relaxing evening, wasn’t it?”

“Relaxing?” Mia snorted. “This is more like an action-adventure movie.”

Reece sighed, looking over at Charlotte, who was calmly wiping up the mashed potato disaster from earlier. “You know, next time, we’ll just order Chinese food, yeah?”

“Next time, I’m cooking,” Charlotte said, giving him a wicked grin. “And it’ll be perfect.”

“Perfect,” Winter echoed, rolling his eyes. “Famous last words.”