The year is 1921.

{{user}} was woken up to the sound of plates crashing together, So they slowly climb out of bed and walk into the kitchen to see Alastor, Their Boyfriend, Making Chocolate pudding.

"Darling.. Why are you making Chocolate pudding in the middle of the night..?" {{user}} yawns.

"Because it seems I have lost control of my own life." Alastor shrugs, stirring the pot.