no rest for the wicked.

MATTHIEU DIXON

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [MATTHIEU DIXON], a  [NONBINARY] has lived in [UPPER EAST SIDE, MANHATTAN] for [TWENTY-TWO YEARS]. This is the city of dreams and [THEY] know it, because they came to NYC to be a [CHEF/DRUG DEALER]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [TOM ELLIS]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!  [theodora, 29, CST, suicide, sexual assault]

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      ——HE’D HEARD A LOT of wishes in the past couple of hours - met a lot of charming little ones with stars in their eyes ( and a few brats mixed in, just to keep it fresh ). there was no point where he regretted signing up for the role of santa in the village —spreading that happiness seemed entirely worth it. as one of the elves ushered away the latest in wish-givers jesse peered ahead: the figure of his closest friend unmistakable even against the mood lighting of the village … followed by a chorus of cries he was all too familiar with.

      were he not in character he’d have joined in mattie’s rendition of attempting to soothe the girls, but jesse knew better than to tug the realistic beard down and show them there was nothing to be afraid of. instead he watched as mattie straightened and strode over with all of the confidence jesse knew his closest friend could bear … and plopped directly into his lap as if they’d done it a thousand times before. AND JESSE WAS SURE THEY HAD. memory didn’t quite serve.

      instantly he wrapped a supportive arm around mattie’s back, gloved fingers hooked at their shoulder, and tilted his head to listen to the charisma as it oozed from their lips. like honey. or syrup. “ i’d be more willing to let it slide if you told me one very nice thing you’ve done this year, matthieu. ” a challenge, perhaps, but more of a barter than anything else. from behind the beard jesse offered a smug smirk, then cast his attention to elodie and elisa, “ and if you introduced me to these adorable little ones in earnest. ”

Here’s the thing. Matthieu isn’t embarrassed. Not by the cries of their four year old daughters, not by the unsuccessful way they immediately try to soothe them, and certainly not by the way they plant themselves into Santa’s lap as if it’s one they’re accustomed to.  And it is. Matthieu is sure there were many a drunken, and probably sober night, where they had somehow ended up in Jesse’s lap. This was just another day in the life, as it were.

Jesse is just as comfortable, even in his Santa suit, arm moving around their back, hand-hooked over shoulder. Matthieu simply grins at him, there’s something to be said about their relationship, the security of it. “One nice thing?” they ask, beginning to tap their chin in thought, making a show of it, knowing the girls are looking on. When he mentions them, Mattie diverts the  conversation “Oh well of course, these little darlings are just the best girls in the world, aren’t you two?” they ask them, grinning when the girls finally moved forward, no longer crying “Elodie and Elisa, as you well know, Santa, have been very good this year, haven’t you been, girls?” 

And that’s all it takes, really, for Matthieu to be standing up after sending a wink Santa’s way, replacing themself with the girls, they stand by as they rattle off a list of gifts. “Santa, my boy,” they say once the girls are firmly wrapped around him again, both of them hanging onto one of their legs “Let me buy you a drink after this, hm? Before you take off to the north pole again.”

Special delivery for: @dvluknw​

Sitting at the bar near his apartment, Casey idly chewed on his thumbnail as he thought about the slew of cases he had been given since he had been back at work. Slowly, but surely, he was beginning to look through them but admittedly, he was pretty anxious about it. Whenever he thought about picking up a file and just reading it, his stomach started to do flips and turns and he quit almost immediately. Casey really hoped he got over it soon because he missed doing detective work. It was one of his favorite things.

Lifting his glass of his whiskey to his lips, he took a rather large gulp but he placed it back down, staring ahead. His attention didn’t falter until, from the corner of his eye, he saw someone sit down beside him. His brow quirked and he looked, just out of curiosity. And much to his surprise, he knew who was beside him. Whether he sat there intentionally or not, who knows. But it was Matthieu.

Over time, the two had grown to know each other from the multiple trips they seemed to take to the bar, “Hey, man.” He said, a soft smile on his lips, “It’s been a minute. You been okay?” Casey asked, tilting his head before he let out a quiet ‘tch’, “Probably not if you’re here, huh?” He chuckled.

Matthieu doesn’t have a lot of free time. With the way they lead their life, it’s nearly impossible these days to catch a break. From nearly three jobs to social events and two children, the word relaxation barely exists in their dictionary.  But, who are they to complain? Their life is strange, morally grey, messy, and yet fulfilling. Matthieu Dixon is very lucky. But sometimes, goddammit, sometimes, he just needs to breathe.  Without a camera in their face, or two four-year-olds calling out for them, no ‘yes’ chef’ to be heard for miles.

It’s not really their normal choice of venue, that much is true, but there’s a fantastic whiskey selection, and, even more importantly, barely anyone here will need Matthieu Dixon–Celebrity chef, no, here, they’re just Mattie. That is a saving grace. Matthieu looks around for a moment, both looking for a seat, and maybe a familiar face. They’ve been here before, after all. When they see Casey, they make their way to the bar, sliding into a stool next to him.  They signal the bartender and order a whiskey, neat.

Matthieu lifts the glass that’s placed in front of them in greeting, before nodding “You’ve got me there, mate, it’s a bit hectic this time of year, hm?” they ask, finally taking a drink from the glass of amber liquid. “How about you, how are you doing? Same assumption as you, not that great if you’re here, hm?”

Violeta: No, no they're not taking any notice of him to be honest. I'm sure they'll start playing up as soon as you get home.

Violeta: Well, i'm fine with that, if they knock out on the couch it might be easier to get them into bed.

Violeta: no I know...I just, you know. Since what you told me I don't want to overstep. I know you need time, space, to figure things out.

Matthieu: They're going to be terrible when I get home with another animal taking up my attention.

Matthieu: I'll fill them up with carbs, it'll be an early night for them,

Matthieu: What I told you...it didn't mean I don't love you, that I don't want you around.

Violeta: They are fine too, they're just in the master sitting on the bed

Violeta: No i know, i enjoy operating too but i wouldn't want to come home to it. Well, although I do like coming home to do more work. But that's me, not you

Violeta: I mean, if that's okay? If not i'll wait until the twins are asleep and then go.

Matthieu: as long as they're not being mean to ziggy

Matthieu: I do like to cook when I'm home too. That's a big part of why I love cooking, is seeing the look on people's faces. Filling the girls' little bellies until they're so sleepy they just knock out on the couch.

Violeta: Don't worry, he is getting A LOT of of cuddles and kisses so i think he's very happy - they are being very nice to him

Violeta: Alright, alright but at least if you let me order us dinner you can cook to enjoy it with her, not to feed us all

Violeta: Exactly, perfect, that's a very good idea i think

Matthieu: The cats have never been around a dog, it's new territory, maybe I should bring them all home a snack.

Matthieu: You know I actually enjoy cooking, right? I don't just do it for the money.

Violeta: I haven't asked him, but i'm sure he's fine. The girls aren't leaving his side anyway.

Violeta: ...Mattie she's four, i'm pretty sure she won't even remember you told her that. Or just put some take out in a oven dish and tell her you made that. You need a break.

Violeta: Only if you are doing it so you don't have to cook

Matthieu: Very funny. I just want him to feel like its his home! When I first got cain and abel it took them some time to adjust. Are they being nice to him, by the way?

Matthieu: She remembers promises! She's at that age where if I don't follow through, she'll be mad at me and you know my rule is to never..I don't want them to be disappointed in me.

Violeta: Did you want me to order in so you don't have to cook when you get home on top of a full day of work?

Violeta: You must be tired

Matthieu: Are you at the penthouse? How's the dog doing? Is he adjusting?

Matthieu: I promised Elisa I'd teach her to cook though, so I might need to make *something* tonight.

where: winterfest-santa’s village

.There was nothing magical about Christmas for them growing up. There wasn’t much fanfare. Which is why, as a father, Matthieu has continously set out to make the holiday season as remarkable for their kids as humanly possible.  

 There’s a line of screaming kids  behind him and, if he didn’t have two urchins of his own, they’d have left a long time ago. Elodie and Elisa are determined to meet Santa and give him their long list of gifts.  Mattie who cannot say no to the twins, of course, took time off from the tent, leaving tuings up to his sous chef, to wait with them. He considers calling their mother to do this, and going back to the tent, if not for the fact that he loves the smiles on their faces.  Bright smiles that he lives for.  It’s all cheesy, they know, but this is all apart of the magic. 

Except, when they finally get up to Santa, Elodie starts crying, which means Elisa starts crying and they’re scared, for some reason, of the man that they had been talking about all day. Matthieu doesn’t know what to do, he tries to calm them down, but that doesn’t work. So he has one choice. He looks at the Santa, who, by the grace of a god he doesn’t believe in is being played by his best friend. It takes them all of two seconds to remember that the girls will basically do anything he does, and so he takes a step forward and plants himself in Santa’s lap.

“Saint Nick, my old friend! Boy, do I have a list of things for you,” they begin as the twins watch on.  “I know I haven’t been the best but I was hoping you’d let that slide just this once.”

Matthieu Dixon (b. @dvluknw​) Dinner For One, 2021 Ink on paper Closed (inv. no. 001)

Occasionally pausing to push the remains of her tiramisu around her plate a little more, the opposite hand continued scribbling across the page. It wasn’t her typical medium, of course — she couldn’t imagine they’d be appreciative of the chalky mess she’d otherwise have left in her wake — but that wasn’t the point in the exercise. Instead, it was speed and accuracy. With staff and patrons coming and going through the bustle of the evening, it was as nice a place as any (nicer, in fact) to sit and sketch portraits for an hour or so. And where better to do so under simulated pressure than within earshot of the barked demands of a busy kitchen, followed by a prompt reply of: “Yes, Chef!”

Looking down at her page, she pursed her lips somewhat approvingly at her work before nibbling on another mouthful of dessert as she scoured the restaurant for her next target. Ah-ha…

“I hate to be a menace but I needed those dinners out minutes ago what is the hold up?” he asks, louder than he intends but it’s been a stressful night, and for some reason no one is being reliable. He pays them well to be reliable.  “I need it done and out that door now.” he finally says, hearing a ‘Yes, Chef’  back. That comforts him enough to take a trip around the dining room. 

They stop at a couple of tables, help some people pick out a wine when they’re undecided and give a free meal to a birthday girl who’s spending it alone.  He’s making more rounds when he stops at a table of someone drawing, and he doesn’t mean to be nosey, he truly doesn’t, but “You’re quite good,” he says admiring her work before offering a smile “Matthieu Dixon, by the way. Owner and head chef. Enjoying your meal?”

Everything is hustling and bustling, music is thumping, people are eating, drinking, and generally enjoying themselves. The dining room is packed, as is the party room. It’s as it should be.  Matthieu takes a moment to take it all in, the people, the party itself and, the success over the past year. 2021 has been kind to them, at least, professionally.  

Personally, things are kind of falling apart. He misses his wife, who he’s seperated from, he has weird feelings for his assistant that he doesn’t know what to do with, not to mention all of the other little things that are just a mess. But Matthieu Dixon is adaptable and solid.  Going into the new year they will figure it out. 

They’re at the bar getting a whiskey when she walks in, fashionably late and they assume it’s something to do with the twins, and the babysitter, but since he’s already at the bar he orders a French 75 as well, her go to drink.  He walks over to where she’s walking in still, dressed in slinky gold dress that leaves nothing to his imagination, not that he’d need to imagine it anyway. He’s seen it all, many times over. That doesn’t take away from how good she looks, long hair flowing over her shoulders. Hot little body being hugged in a short dress. His adams apple wavers in his throat as he swallows, trying not to make his attraction obvious, but ultmately failing.

“You look ravishing,” they tell her by way of greeting, offering up the champagne flute and leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. They can still do that, he thinks, if Christmas was any indication.  “Did they go to sleep easy or were they menaces? I’m sorry I couldn;t be there. I had to get things in order here.”

Violeta: I assume your mind ALWAYS goes straight to that, who are you and what have you done with Matthieu Dixon?

Violeta: Maybe this will help me keep up with them when I get home. They have decided the dolls need to go on holiday, and that they are the planes. It involves a lot of running around.

Matthieu: My mind isn't *always* on sex. Just a lot of the time!

Matthieu: They really are an imaginitive pair, aren't they?

They used to be quite the group of friends, himself, Diane and Rico. And then it had suddenly turned into just him and Rico, both of them lost as to where and why, but still staying at each others side. He knows his friend had lost his love, and it was therefore harder on him. But Matthieu had still lost a friend. 

Or so he thought.

Because one day Rico is sitting in his kitchen telling him that she is back, not dead and not Diane. Delphine. A name he’ll have to get used to. A name he had first heard in a request to get rid of whoever was wanting to hurt her. A request he had happily agreed to. But before anything else, he needed to see her. After all this time, despite Ricos word, he wanted to see her for himself. He knew the ins and outs of things, of the lifestyle she apparently lived, because he lived one similar, but still it was strange, for her to suddenly come back from the dead. 

There’s no mistaking it, when he sees her across the dining room at Soliel, that it’s Diane Delphine. He recognizes her easily, and makes his way over. “it’s like seeing a bloody ghost,” is the first thing they say as they approach, hands wrapping around the top of the chair opposite her. “What the hell?” comes their next response, because they’re stuck on shock. 

violeta: My vagina is officially offended.

violeta: In other news: I massively over-caffeinated this morning. Everything is vibrating and I can SEE THROUGH TIME

matthieu: all I said was that I can't stop by tonight, I didn't even know it was involved!