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balapann-blog · 2 months ago

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Day 13 - 18 September - Bar > Podgorica

We checked out and got a taxi to Bar station, and then took the train to Podgorica. We were staying in a flat that is very like our flat in London which was nice, it felt very familiar. We then went to lunch in the most highly rated place around, it was quite meat heavy and we ordered too much! We finished it all but it was tough and we had to go to the flat for a lie down after. We went for a quick walk around the old town but it seemed mostly residential so we went back to the downtown area. We have both been nursing colds and I went into a boots type shop for tissues. It was quite glam and had many different types of shampoo etc., including a whole shelf of Korean beauty products (we go a couple of face masks) but when I asked if they sold tissues there was a very definitive ‘no not here!’ I had had to take out the loo roll that was in my pocket that I had been using up to that point as a translation!

At the flat we read for a bit I bought Her Side of the Story by Alba de Céspedes which seems like a real precursor to Elena Ferrante, I was hooked reading the sample on the train!

We then went to the post office and for a drink in this bar below a bridge (didn’t see any trolls since they seemed to have moved all their work online). We then went to one of the only restaurants in the old town for dinner, we only wanted something like but the salads we ordered were quite heavy. We went to the shop and bought some stuff for our long bus journey in the morning and went home.

We watched Mona Lisa smile on Netflix which was great, then went to bed, not the comfyist bed we have slept on and the pillow was very big and uncomfortable.

Where we ate - Pod valet, Lantern restaurant

What we liked - Pod valet was good but we had too much, Lantern was a lovely setting, I think our salads weren’t great but maybe we ordered wrong.

Day 14 - 19 September - Podgorica > Pristina

We work up early and went for a run which was really good particularly because we were about to spend all day on the bus. We packed, made our lunch and checked out. I bought a potato burek for breakfast and then got the 9am bus. This was the second international mini bus we have taken, and we both got single window seats on one side of the bus.

We got to the Albanian border quickly and got through pretty easily, no problems. The problems started like 25 mins later when the driver abruptly stopped and said that we needed to change bus. He didn’t really tell us when the new bus was coming, and spent most of the next 30 mins shouting on the phone. Eventually a big bus stopped and we all got on (including the driver, who started immediately being the assistant on this bus). The bus journey from then on was uneventful if a bit long, there was amazing scenery as usual and a stop at a very glam Albanian services.

We got to Pristina and walked into town from the bus. I think walking with the bag is the most weights training I have ever done! We checked into the flat and then went out for dinner. We had a lovely meal of salad, grilled veg, zucchini and cheese, and bread, which we needed after yesterday’s excess. With a big bottle of fizzy water it cost us 14 euro which was very good value! We are now just chilling in the flat and resting after a few days of travelling and moving.

Where we ate - Liburnia

What we liked - Liburnia was really nice but based on what you will find out in the next entry it is slightly taken the gloss off

Day 15 - 20 September - Pristina

Woke up to the terrible news that Nin was feeling really ill and couldn’t get out of bed. We had planned to do a 10am walking tour but that was missed. I went to get some medicine for heartburn from a chemist, which Nin said was absolutely disgusting (it was anise flavour).

She was feeling too ill o go out so I bravely ventured out without my rock. I got a burek from what seemed to be the highest rated place in Pristina, it was definitely not as nice as the place in Sarajevo but was pretty delish (i think its pretty hard to fuck burek up). I then went to an exhibition in a library that had multiple stories from the Kosovo war, all from a single day in May 1999. It was like some of the Sarajevo exhibitions, and no less grim and harrowing. It really is incredible the things that happened in Yugoslavia in the 90s, when you hear that there are tensions currently it is really easy to see why. What happened in Kosovo I would be able to remember had I been born there, and the scale of the violence is staggering. It takes serious courage to forgive in those situations. The poem ceasefire by Michael Longley (who i actually saw reading the poem a few weeks ago before I left) comes to mind.

After that I had a mental coffee, with whipped cream (id ordered a cappuccino) and went back to see Nina who was still feeling really ill, I brought her some plain bread from a bakery and hung out for a bit and then went to get some lunch, I listened to a few podcasts and had some pasta and a coffee. I then went to a few of the main mosques in the town which I had wanted to go to (they were busy in the morning with Friday prayers, but empty when I went) and also to the a museum of an old Turkish 18th century house which was short but very lovely, and i walked through the old market. I then went to catch the 4pm walking tour but the guy never appeared so I bought some stuff for Nina to have for dinner (soup and rice as per her request) and went back to the house.

Our washer/dryer had made our clothes very wrinkled so I did some very basic ironing, and made the soup and rice for Nina who by this point had diagnosed herself with food poisoning. After that I went out to this falafel place and had a ‘zesty wrap’. I wanted to have some Kosovar wine and went to a wine bar, but i decided not to go in as it was empty and I didn’t feel like going in alone, so went home and we went to bed really early (Nina was already in bed).

This was the most time I had spent way from Nina since we have left, in some ways it was nice to have a bit of time to myself, but it mainly just illustrated how much I like spending time with Nin and I was sad she was ill. It is a good thing that it happened in one of the places where there wasn’t loads to do. (She’s better now).

Where I ate - Furra Lumi, Bon Bouquet cafe and lounge, Baba Ganoush Meze

What I liked - Baba Ganoush was delish, the others were good too but the highlight was defo dinner

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tlomurray · 2 years ago

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Ever had a dining experience so bad you kind of wanted to take out a billboard for your review? You guys know me, I’m always taking up places! But this was so terrible. “Went to lunch here because the place we wanted to go was unexpectedly closed. Waited a long time without acknowledgment before being seated. Then seated in a booth which seemed to have some sort of busing station behind it, which stank. Server argued with me about the menu which was just odd. Paid $7.00 for two eggs over easy, which were almost perfect. 1 piece of toast that they didn’t even bother to butter. And the most disgusting hashbrowns. We asked for well done we got hard on the inside pieces of what seemed like rehydrated potatoes. I ate one bite. The shiny pool of liquid on the plate is oil. All over the place. No refill on coffee, no one asked us how our food was including the person who cashed us out, if you’ve ever worked in a restaurant you know it’s habit to say “how was everything” so I’m going to guess they’re tired of hearing complaints. Neither of us ate more than 1/3 of our food because it was just bad. I almost never leave a bad review, I like to leave good reviews and boost local, but this was insultingly bad. Vegetarian options Basically no option for vegan. Only vegetarian that I could see was eggs, grilled cheese, and french toast.” #rickscitydiner #toledo419 #badfood (at Ricks City Diner) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnU1j-Gui2i/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#rickscitydiner #toledo419 #badfood

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marvelslut16 · 4 years ago

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Grilled cheese and cashmere sweaters

Prompt number: 5 “Unacceptable, try again.”

Fandom: Knives Out

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Swearing. Asshole Ransom, obviously. Alludes to sexy times- nothing explicit.

A/N: It’s my first time writing for him, so thoughts? Also, no spoilers since this takes place prior to the movie/the events in the movie never take place au.

The moment you met Ransom Drysdale you couldn’t stand him, he was a pompous rich bitch that got everything handed to him on a silver platter. But you had to put up with him since you’re his grandfather’s assistant. Working under Harlan Thrombey is your golden ticket into the publishing world, so you weren’t going to let his extremely attractive, asshole of a grandson ruin that for you.

The first time the two of you spoke was when Harlon was letting Ransom stay at the house, while the younger man’s house was getting new windows. A big feat apparently since he has floor to ceiling windows. That doesn’t surprise you, he’s got money, he’s full of himself, and he wants to show off; the windows make perfect sense. Fran had to take the day off so you decided to make Harlon a simple lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup, while Marta sits and talks with him.

Feeling generous you make another sandwich for Ransom, ladling another bowl of soup as well, you take the modest meal over to him. You set it on the table in front of him, he’s snacking on some airplane cookies while he flips through a playboy magazine- real classy. He scoffs at the food you set in front of him, barely sarong it a single glance.

“Unacceptable, try again,” Ransom deadpans, turning his magazine sideways to enjoy the centerfold. You hear Harlon and Marta talk as they walk down the hall and closer to the kitchen so he can eat. “I prefer sourdough bread, not white,” Ransom lazily pokes at the sandwich, face contouring in disgust. “And I only eat Pule cheese.”

“Just to make your image look better I’m sure,” you sneer without thinking of the consequences of Harlon being within hearing distance of you. “No cheese is so good that it has to be worth six hundred dollars a pound. I decided to be nice and make you a grilled cheese, take or leave it. But I’m not making your entitled ass anything else.”

“Eat shit,” he sneers, finally looking up at you with his baby blues, leaning across the table.

“Eat your own shit Hugh,” you rest your forearms on the table, leaning closer to him as well. You two are so close you can feel his hot breath on you, and you can see the dark stubble of his five o’clock shadow starting to come in.

In the kitchen Marta glances at Harlon worried that he’ll fire you for the way you treated his grandson. But all he does is smile, no one has stood up to Ransom before, not any one that could actually make him shut up. His fond, proud, smile, turns into a knowing grin as Ransom’s eyes sweep over your figure. You’ve piqued his grandson’s interest.

After hundreds of horrendous innuendos and failed pickup lines, you finally agreed to go out with Ransom. Just so he would shut up, not because you were actually attracted to him or anything. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The date was nothing special, no fancy restaurants to show off his wealth. Instead he ordered from the fanciest restaurant and you ate at his house. Him hiding you on the first date should have been an immediate red flag, but you forgot everything but his name when you fell into his bed after dinner. The next morning you woke up in a white knit cashmere sweater of his, it’s still your favorite to this day months later. Ransom isn't romantic, he was already out of the bed and came back from a morning run by the time you woke up.

But months later now, you’re getting sick of his lack of romanticism and his wandering eye. You knew going into this what a handful Ransom was, but a dumb part of you thought he’d change when you started dating. But he didn’t. Eight months in and your relationship is still hidden, with the exception of Harlon and Marta. Luckily Harlon only caught you two swapping spit, while poor Marta witnessed Ransom’s hands up your skirt one day.

The relationship is almost all physical, not that you’re complaining too much since he’s built like a God and knows how to please a woman. But it irritates you that he won’t go out in public with you unless it’s for something he has to go to for Harlon, you know he has a strained relationship, at best, with his parents, but you wish he would tell them. Valentine's day came and went and all you got was his package wrapped in a bow, while you had spent hours and an entire paycheck to buy him the perfect sweater to add to his collection.

By month six you were spending most nights in his bed, but he still hadn’t asked you to move in with him. He hadn’t shown a clear sign that he actually wanted to be with you. On the rare occasion you both had to go somewhere with Harlon you could find Ransom flirting it up with multiple gorgeous women. On this particular occasion he let it go far enough that the woman kissed him.

The next day at work you're surprised when you bump into Ransom in the kitchen at lunch time. He looks a little flustered working the stove, a greasy butter stain on his blue sweater, you smile lightly seeing the overconfident man struggling with such a simple task. He gives you a wolfish grin when he notices you in the doorway, plating up his failed attempt at a grilled cheese. One side burned black while the other is nowhere near a golden brown yet.

“The bed was cold last night,” Ransom slides the plate to you as he continues to speak. “And my sweater was empty.”

He’s holding up your favorite cashmere sweater for you to grab and wear now. It’s not a vocal apology and he’s not screaming his affections for you to the world. But for Ransom it's a big deal. The sandwich is his apology, and the sweater marks his claim on you even if it’s in front of people that already know. And for now, that’s enough.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#ransom drysdale x reader #fictober20 #day 9 of fictober #knives out #fictober 2020 #knives out ransom #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom x you #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #knives out imagine

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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Sugar and Coffee [8]

Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You always thought you would be happy to see him again. To come face to face with the man who you miss the most — who you’ve yearned to see so much. Like reuniting with a close friend who you’ve lost contact with. Like rediscovering a piece of yourself that you had lost. But you didn’t know it would be so painful. That your heart would be so heavy. “H-hey.” “Hey.” Seokjin smiles and your heart stutters but then constricts. It’s hard to breathe. “Are you on your way to class?” You hold your books closer to your chest as if they could do anything to protect you. Your eyes sweeping over his features, trying to freshen your memories of him. You can’t recall the last time you heard the sound of his voice. “Y-Yeah. Are you?” “I’m on my way to the library to meet up with some people for a group project,” he says casually with a good-natured smile. “Oh. A group project already?” “Yeah, I know right.” Jin sighs lightly, lips falling into a slight pout. “Well it’s my last ever semester, so it’s the last push.” “Totally. I...get it.” “I should go now before I’m late. It was nice seeing you, Y/N.” You nod and without waiting a beat, he brushes past you, continuing down the hall. You hate it. The way he looked at you, talked to you so nonchalantly, how he didn’t even blink thrice. Jin was friendly, but you know him — and he treated you the way he treats strangers. There weren't any softened gazes, gentle words. None of his actions had a trace of lingering feelings. His polite smile is the same one that’s reserved for mere acquaintances. Distant. You’re no less than a stranger to him. And as you watch Jin’s backside fading down the corridor, you quickly wipe away the tears that shed down your cheeks. // “You ran into him?” You nod, toying with the hem of your sweater. “That’s great news,” Jungkook murmurs from the corner of his mouth, preoccupied with choosing a game. “Yeah, I know, right?” You're stiff, but he doesn't pay enough attention to notice. You’re sitting on the floor of Jungkook’s dorm room, knees gathered together as you watch him set up. He’s finally cleaned up after you insulted him that he was a pig living in a pigsty, and he was offended enough to clean up after himself and do his laundry. Jungkook switches on his PS4 and flops down on his small couch with the controller. He glances up at you when there’s ongoing silence and realizes he should say something more. “That means there’s hope, right? If he’s willing to talk to you and all. I know a lot of exes who would run in the other direction.” “Yeah. That’s true, I guess.” Jungkook is optimistic. “If you keep talking to him, who knows, you might get back together before you even realize.” There’s a loud knock on the door, someone’s fist banging on the surface. The boy in his gray sweatpants and black, boxy shirt sighs, gets up and opens the door. The person on the other side glares at him. “Dude, about fucking time. Was standing out there for an eternity.” “Shut up, I literally took ten seconds.” “Yea, but ten seconds we could’ve used playing. Hey, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, plopping down on the couch and stealing Jungkook’s controller. Jimin follows in, greeting you with a smile, and Taehyung and Yoongi are the last with the former harshly nudging the latter forward. “Alright, alright,” Yoongi grunts quietly and then faces you with his hands dug into his hoodie pocket. “Y/N. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour last time.” He looks less sorry and more disgruntled and reluctant, but it’s enough to amuse you. You snort. “It’s no big deal.” “Okay, cool.” Yoongi exhales and sits beside you. Taehyung shakes his head but redirects his attention to Jimin when he steals his favourite controller. “Hey, hey, hey, paws off, bro.” “What?” “That’s mine.” “Who says?” “I wrote my name at the back in pencil. Look. See?” “You wrote on my controller?” Jungkook is outraged, snapping into their argument. In the meanwhile, Yoongi scrolls through his phone and notices you’re blankly staring at Jungkook's old flat screen — the one he stole from his parent’s home months ago and somehow set it up here. “I meant it.” “What?” “I know it looked like Taehyung made me,” Yoongi mumbles, “Which he did. But I meant to apologize anyway. Eventually. I know I’m an ass.” “You’re an honest one,” you admit with a small smile. If there was anyone who was going to be frank and truthful, it would be Yoongi. He won’t sugar coat it, won’t string pretty words together to make you feel better, so that’s why you pick him to inquire, “Can I ask you a question, Yoongi?” “Sure.” “Do you think I’ll ever be able to get back together with Jin?” “No.” His gaze connects with yours. “You won’t. Usually people break up for a reason and that reason always stands.”

Two weeks pass by as you ignore the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. You overlook it like an assignment on your desk that needs to be done or like that messy drawer you should clean out but keep procrastinating on. And it’s easy to distract yourself when the entire school is stirred. Of course it would be. After all, the most competitive holiday was coming up. “What are you going to make for Valentines?” “Me?” You blink. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet….” The atmosphere hyped — even the dining hall is louder, the air buzzing. The holiday simply dedicated to love has long been replaced by alumni years ago and became a competition. After all, this was the place where everyone could make sweets after all. No longer was Valentine chocolates simply melting chocolate from the store and pouring them into molds — every single person here can properly judge the quality, taste, texture, flavour, and the presentation. According to rumours, the tradition started between three people, specifically when a girl told her two potential suitors that she would become the Valentine of whoever baked better. It sounds like some ridiculous Shakespearean tragedy, but as people went head to head to win the affections of their crushes — it essentially evolved into a competition. And at this point, it doesn’t matter who gives it to who. It’s who bakes it better. “I’m still debating if I want to do raspberry possets or raspberry religieuse,” Taehyung hums, chin resting in his propped up hand, and he turns to his side. “Which one do you like, Yoongi?” “Why the fuck do you care what I like?” “Well obviously because I’m going to make it for you,” he giggles. Yoongi glares. “Fuck off.” “Who else am I supposed to give it to? You have no one, I have no one.” “What about Jimin?” you ask, trying to hold back laughter with said brunette. “He has his mom.” “Hey,” Jimin whines, “I have the Valentine’s Day fundraiser at the hospital this year too.” “So you’re not going to make anything for your mom?” he deadpans. “Well, no.” Jimin pouts. “I’m going to make her red velvet cupcakes.” “Don’t make fun of him,” you chide Taehyung and turn to the other. “That’s really cute, Jimin.” Jimin grins, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Don’t worry, Taehyung can say whatever he wants. He’s just jealous my mom’s the best. She raised me all on her own and I wouldn’t be here without her.” “Okay, I’ll admit she’s really nice,” Taehyung has a dreamy expression. “I miss her warm hugs.” “That’s weird,” Jimin deadpans, pleasant smile switching into a face of comical disgust. “Don’t talk about my mom like that, dude.” You laugh and look over at the sleepy man lazily chewing on his mac and cheese. It’s always funny to watch Yoongi eat. He looks physically pained to chew and swallow — you wonder if he would blend all of his food to just drink it if he could. “Are you going to make anything, Yoongi?” “No. Who would I give it to?” He ignores Taehyung when he exclaims ‘me’. You direct your attention to Hoseok and he shrugs. “I might...make lemon and poppy seed cupcakes or strawberry rhubarb shortbread bars.” “For who?” Jungkook asks, brows raised. “Uh, no one.” But it’s obvious that the answer is too suspicious, so he gives in with a sigh. “I owe Y/N’s friend, Aeri, a favour, so I’ll probably make something for her.” “Ooh, I haven’t heard you talk about Y/N’s friend before.” Taehyung leans in closer, eyes glistening. “Shut up,” Hoseok quips. “What about you, Y/N?” “I...haven’t decided if I will or not. Maybe I’ll make something for Jin.” Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, brow cocking, and you stare back at him blankly. Jimin catches the quick exchange and intercepts. “You should tell Jungkook to make you his chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.” “Holy fuck, I remember those!” Taehyung slaps the table, startling both you and Jungkook. “Those was so fucking delicious, I thought I was going to cream my pants when I ate them. I can still taste it.” He slurps up the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth. Jungkook’s nose wrinkles. “No. It’s too much work to make that.” Taehyung bats his lashes. “You wouldn’t make it for us?” “That’s an even harder no.” “Psh. Valentine’s Day hater.” “Fuck off. It’s not my fault that the holiday is stupid.” “You just hate it because you’re alone.” You pat your friend on the back. “It’s okay, Jungkook. You’ll find love someday.” “Okay, fuck you too,” he spits without much malice, making Yoongi smirk. “Jungkook just knows his small package can’t satisfy any man or woman.” Yoongi’s insult rouses laughter from everyone and the man being grilled has his brows shot to his hairline. “For your information, I have a substantial size and I’m probably bigger than everyone here. Especially you, Mr. five foot nine.” You blanch. “Gross.” But while Yoongi doesn’t seem injured by the retort, Jimin’s the one who’s sitting straight and he whines, “Why do you have to bring height into this?” They ignore him in favour of Taehyung’s questioning, “Really? Bigger than everyone here?” “Okay fine.” Jungkook points at Taehyung. “Except you.” You look between the pair of them. “Did you guys have a dick measuring contest or what?” “We will not speak of the past,” Jungkook deadpans, making you laugh even more. // You know that you shouldn’t. With what Yoongi’s told you, with what you know yourself, you shouldn’t go out of your way to do something so unnecessary. You shouldn’t put your heart on your sleeve to get hurt again when it’s not going to be worth it. But in your life, there've been a thousand shouldn’ts and you’ve always grasped onto the one should. It never hurts you to try, and that’s how you’ve made it this far. “Hey, Jeon.” You catch up to him. Jungkook’s legs are unbearably longer than yours and when he walks fast it puts you out of breath within seconds. Luckily, he sees you and has the decency to slow down. “What?” “I need your help.” Jungkook’s steps slow even more until he outright stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks so apprehensive, you have an urge to slap that expression off his face. “Hey! It’s not like I’m not going to ask you to kill someone for me!” “Yeah, well, the last time you asked for a favour, we destroyed a kitchen trying to temper chocolate. I’d rather you kill me, thank you very much.” “Pretty please? Promise it’s not bad.” “Ew, ew. Don’t look at me like that and stop pouting, you’re not cute.” You frown at him. “Look it’s not a huge, huge thing, promise.” “What is it?” “Well, you’re Jungkook, World’s Best Chocolatier, right?” You nudge him with your elbow and it only makes him more suspicious with how you’re thickly laying down the praise. “And you know chocolate hates me. I definitely don’t know about it as well as you do either, so I need you to bestow your gifts onto me—” “What is it, lady? Get a move on! I don’t have all day.” “Can you help me make something for Jin?” Jungkook pauses. He stares at you. Maybe his brain finally died — not like there is anything to die considering it’s always been a little on the empty side. But then he finally opens his mouth. “What are you planning?” “Just something simple. Like truffles. What do you think?” Jungkook hesitates, then he looks at you. “Fine.” “Really?” “Yeah, yeah.” He waves his hand away, but you grin at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right, Jungkook?” “Yeah, well, it’s something I never really signed up for,” your best friend mutters and continues walking while telling you that you’ll owe him and that means more notes from multiple lectures. But it’s worth it. On the fourteenth, right on Valentine’s Day, you meet with Jungkook. He audibly sighs when he sees you tie up the back of your apron. “What?” “Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m spending Valentine’s with you.” “I thought you didn’t care about the holiday.” “I don’t. But that still doesn’t mean this isn’t lame. Whatever. The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can leave and avoid all this.” He motions around, but you know what he means. Love is in the air and it’s sickening — couples were holding hands, kissing each other on the tips of their noses, rubbing their cheeks against one another, dialing up the PDA to an uncomfortable amount. But you can’t blame them. You and Seokjin were once like that. “Do you know how to make ganache?” “Do I know how to make ganache,” you mimic him mockingly. “Of course I do! What am I, an idiot?!” “Well, you didn’t know how to temper chocolate so you tell me.” You glare at him. You would mouth off but can’t risk him storming out. The two of you gather the eight ounce semi-sweet chocolate, a half cup of whipping cream, cocoa powder and some vanilla. Jungkook helps you heat the cream to a simmer in a small saucepan, looking over your shoulder at every step along the way. While you’d usually mind the way he’s intruding in your personal bubble, you don’t want to get anything wrong. “Make sure it doesn’t burn.” “It’s not going to burn.” “You said that last time.” You snap. “Keep bringing up last time and this will be the last time you step into the kitchen, Jeon.” A second later, you’re begging Jungkook not to leave. But thankfully, he has enough mercy and lets you off with a warning. The pair of you continue making the ganache, placing the chocolate in a bowl before pouring the cream and adding the vanilla to it. You allow it to stand for a few minutes before stirring it into a smooth, deep mixture. You place the ganache in the fridge for half an hour to chill. In the meanwhile, you clean up the mess and wash whatever dishes you have. Jungkook, on the other hand, shows you Yoongi’s reaction of Taehyung proposing to him with some cupcakes in front of campus in which the former man straight out walks away. Jimin who’s filming is giggling hard enough that the camera is unsteady, but his laughter is infectious and makes the both of you grin. Jungkook says he’s glad he wasn’t there lest Taehyung turned to him and started to declare his fake affections and cause a crowd to gather. Apparently it’s happened before. When the ganache is ready, Jungkook helps you roll it into balls and dust with cocoa powder. You pull out a box you had prepared to place them in, and you could not be prouder when it’s complete. It looks like a product that you could buy in-store. Simple yet elegant. “All done.” “All done,” you repeat after him, viewing your final product. Chocolate doesn’t hate you so much when you’re with Jungkook, you realize. “He’ll love it.” “Yeah….” You can imagine it — calling out Jin’s name. He’d spin around, regard you with his surprise. You’d extend your arms to give him the box. You’d try to show through this small gesture that you still love him, but you wouldn’t speak the words in case the moment would be ruined. But with your courage mustered, you’d tell him that you miss him in your life. That you don’t want to be strangers anymore. Whether that means remaining friends or being lovers again. But you know that it’s just your fantasy. A delusion — your optimistic imagination running wild with the semblances of hope still left within you. A sweet dream you would have in your slumber only to wake up to reality. The grief of your heartbreak morphed into a wishful thinking. The image and scenario you’ve constructed in your mind is simply part of a chapter in your life that would never happen. “He wouldn’t take it,” you whisper. It's a truth that’s hard to face, that you’ve been running from and turning yourself blind to. But you know Seokjin. After nearly two years together, you know the kind of polite smile he gives to strangers. You know how he treats acquaintances. You know when he’s being distant, how he acts when things don’t matter to him anymore. And you know that— “He wouldn’t….” He would never take this. He would never accept the chocolates you’ve made on Valentine’s. You would never be able to muster the courage to tell him how much you miss him. And he would never agree to being friends after your extensive history together. Your head lowers, and tears drip down your cheeks. Jungkook is rendered speechless but you feel his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes comfortingly. You sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and you take a truffle to throw into your mouth. You chew in your cheek and look at Jungkook with your reddened, teary eyes. “I-If he won’t eat it, we should.” That’s how you end up on the floor of the kitchen with Jungkook beside you. The two of you are leaning against the kitchen island, hidden away from the window of the door and any intrusive eyes peering through. The tips of your fingers are stained with melted chocolate — the fruits of your labour gone in an instant. The realization sinks in. After months of what you’ve tried to keep a hold on it. Having hoped aimlessly that you could change this back around. What had shattered into sand and slipped between your fingertips, but you tried to catch it again. It hits you in an instant. Harder than it ever has. “It’s really over, isn’t it, Jungkook?” you ask in a murmur, in a broken voice. “It’s over.” The relationship ended. Any form of a relationship with Seokjin is gone forevermore. Jungkook turns his head, gazing at your profile. He pats you on the back. He’s learnt long ago that he wasn’t very good at speaking, but that his words don’t mean as much as his actions do. So in silence, Jungkook eats the truffles with you. It’s not bad, he muses internally. You’re getting better at chocolate despite how you never had a knack for it. Well, technically he made them but whatever, your effort still means something. He chews and keeps to himself how the chocolate truffle strangely tastes sweet and bitter, like both sugar and black coffee.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #jungkook as a cutie baking boy who doesn't know to deal with emotions #and oc as a person who has too many emotions lol #Y'ALL no spoilers but this is the turning point #cue the song past the point of no return

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akillerqueenwrites · 5 years ago

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how do you sandwich?

for @frostysunflowers and @spideyfic for your parts in this chaos. this is maybe the most ridiculous thing i have ever written.

“What are you doing?”

Tony pauses at Peter’s frankly quite loud question – he hadn’t meant to shout given there’s only a counter and half a small kitchen separating them, but the shock had overridden pretty much everything else. “Buttering the bread…?”

“Why are you buttering toast before you toast it?”

“I’m not toasting this.”

“Then what are you doing?” Peter demands.

“I’m making a sandwich.”

“You’re what?” Peter’s voice is barely a squeak. He points to the bread, then the knife in Tony’s hand, a slab of butter dangling precariously above the counter, then to the heavens like that might provide some answers. “You – how – what? What?”

“Kid–“

“How do you sandwich!?”

“What?” Tony shouts back, confusion and panic at war on his face. Panic seems to be winning. In fairness, Peter had driven all the way from Boston, walked into the house, dumped his backpack on the floor and immediately started yelling. “What?”

“That’s not how you make a sandwich!”

Tony stares. The butter slides off the knife and hits the counter.

“You don’t put butter on a sandwich! You put mayo, or mustard, or – or something that’s not butter!”

“Have you had a bad day?” Tony asks, not moving an inch. “Something happen on the drive down here? Fight with MJ? Any other reason you came into the house and immediately started berating me for something I’ve been doing since I was five goddamn years old?”

“Who corrupted you? Who told you it was okay to put slabs of fat on bread?”

“Jarvis and my Aunt Peg,” Tony says.

Peter blinks. “Well, now I just feel terrible.”

“As you should,” Tony says, but his voice is light. “Seriously, kid, I’ve known you for years, even without counting the, ah, interval–“ They both wince. “Have you seriously never seen me make a sandwich? Never eaten one I gave you?”

Peter thinks. Really thinks. “There was a lot of takeout back then,” he says finally. “Some Italian cooking when you put your mind to it. Maybe a grilled cheese. I don’t think we ever just had…sandwiches.”

“Then I have failed you,” Tony says emphatically. “Come here. We’re making sandwiches properly.”

“Mr Delmar doesn’t–“

“Mr Delmar makes subs. Not sandwiches. Come on, you need food, anyway. Long drive, I bet.”

Peter moves closer, wary of the knife that Tony’s still brandishing wildly. “Are we going to make cucumber sandwiches? Scones? Colonise the world?”

“That’s almost offensive.”

Peter shrugs. “My mom was Irish. I have a lot of repressed anger.”

“Probably fair. Anyway, come on!” Tony turns to pat the countertop and puts his hand slap-bang in the blob of butter. “Okay. Right. Um…”

Pepper chooses that moment to sweep into the house, as put-together as usual. She takes one look at Tony, one hand covered in butter, the other holding a knife, and turns to Peter, who probably looks torn between laughing and crying. “Should I ask? Do I want to know?”

“Apparently I make sandwiches wrong.” Tony jabs the knife in Peter’s direction. “You know, Morgan never complains about my sandwiches “

“You put butter on your sandwiches!”

“We’ve established that already.”

“I am disgusted by you and everything you stand for.”

“Do you want a damn sandwich or not?”

“I want a sandwich with mayonnaise, like a civilised person.”

Pepper smiles, seemingly more to calm herself down than anything else, and glides out of the room.

“Finally found Pepper’s limit,” Tony says, grabbing a cloth and wiping his hand, “and apparently it’s arguing with my college-age kid about sandwiches. Christ, I knew students ate weird shit, but looks like it’s all evolved since my day.”

“I’ll make my own sandwich, thank you. You clearly can’t be trusted.” Peter pauses. “It doesn’t sound like a word anymore.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Sandwich.” Peter sounds it out in his mouth. “Sand-wich. What a stupid word. Where’d it come from?”

“Some rich dude wanted to play cards. I don’t know.” Tony finally puts down the knife and Peter deems it safe enough to move closer. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Peter sidles up to him and gets his long-awaited hug, resting his cheek on Tony’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “I appreciate that you’re no longer threatening me with a knife.”

“Can you blame me? I was in shock. I’ve never made you a sandwich.” Tony sniffs. Melodramatic asshole. “I’ve tried my best, y’know? It wasn’t always easy. You try to do the best for your kids and then one day you find out you’ve failed as a parent–“

“You didn’t fail me by not sneaking blobs of salted fat into my food.”

“Sneak: one hundred,” Tony says, having clearly been talking to Harley, who likes to teach him years-old memes because Harley is terrible and awful and the bane of Peter’s life and was put on this earth solely to torment him. “So, now we’ve deescalated the previously fraught situation like mature adults, I’ll ask again: long day?”

Peter shrugs. “Friday traffic. Had a submission this morning – only a few hundred words, though. Lab report for something we did on Monday.”

“All good?”

“Yeah, it was piss-easy.”

“Language.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

Peter scoffs and opens the fridge, pulling out the jar of pickles.

“Number five?” Tony asks.

“You got it.”

“Gonna be a square instead of a sub, but I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“With mayo,” Peter says firmly, and ignores Tony’s heartbroken sigh. “Stop trying to manipulate me. It’s not working. If I give in, you’ll have me eating crumpets.” A thought strikes him, and he shudders. “Beans on toast.”

“There’s a thought for dinner,” Tony says cheerfully, “but have you considered fish and chips?”

“This is wounding my soul.”

“We should go to London. See the sights. Get you some British culture.”

“Yeah, last time I was in London, a lot of it got blown up. Like, a lot. Mostly important things, too.”

“All the more reason. You didn’t get to see any of it.”

“I was busy almost dying.”

“So we’ll go for a fun trip this time.”

“It was meant to be a fun trip last time.”

“If Fury comes near you, I will personally punch him the face. So would Happy.”

“Happy is not coming,” Peter says. “You are not turning this hypothetical trip into a lads and dads vacation, or whatever.”

“Don’t you want to bond with your future step-uncle?”

“Seeing him in nothing but a towel in May’s apartment was enough bonding, thank you!” Peter says loudly. “Plus, he did fly hours to pick me up when I got arrested and gave me some pretty good advice. So. You know. All good on the Happy front.”

“All right, all right.” Tony takes a bite of his sandwich – ham salad, it looks like. “When you graduate, we’re going to London. I’ve decided. And the rest of England. Culture, Webs. Afternoon tea at some posh hotel. Angry cab drivers, road rage and all. Greasy chip butties – butter is a requirement on those. But also, like, we can go all over. Posh little villages in the Cotswolds. Tiny winding country lanes that barely fit one car down them. Village pubs that have been there for hundreds of years. Weird cobbled streets that’ll twist your ankles. Moorland, Pete, that goes on for miles. Sheep hanging off the side of mountains like gravity doesn’t apply to them. Some of it looks like it belongs in Middle Earth.” He pauses, childlike excitement, nostalgia, happiness sparking in his eyes. “Jarvis took me when I got my first masters.”

“So you were, what, twelve?” Peter says.

That gets a snort. “Nineteen.”

“Try-hard.”

“Says the one double-majoring in chemical engineering and biochem.” Tony groans. “God, and Harley’s doing electrical and mechanical engineering. I’ve made a terrible mistake. You’re going to be unstoppable.”

“Don’t forget Ned is doing CompSci,” Peter says, finally, finally getting to take a mouthful of his sandwich. “And MJ can do literally anything. Plus, with Morgan’s negotiating power, we’ll rule the world. Tributes will come in the form of juice pops. We shall ban butter on sandwiches.”

“Even grilled cheeses? Because it just wouldn’t be the same.”

“An exception shall be granted for grilled cheese sandwiches,” Peter proclaims.

“Then you are a merciful ruler indeed.” Tony ruffles his hair. “Now, afternoon snack out of the way. We have some time before dinner. Lab?”

“Lab,” Peter agrees. “Not to be a freeloading student, but what’s for dinner?”

“Mom’s secret recipe bolognese.”

“Oh, thank God. Thought we’d lost Italian Tony for a minute.”

“Brat.”

#this is entirely ridiculous #pure shitposting #tony stark & peter parker #irondad and spiderson #irondad #fluff #humour #tony stark #peter parker #the absolute chaos of discord compressed into three characters #i am very tired and caffeinated #my fic #my writing #killerqueenwrites

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anglrfish · 4 years ago

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tma characters’ cooking abilities: rated and ranked

1. sasha: if Sasha had been the archivist, tma would have lasted 30 episodes. by episode 25 she solves both the apocalypse and climate change. she spends the next 5 addressing the will-they-won't-they storyline with Tim (it’s won’t-they but they have fun with it). i will never stop being petty about this. anyway Sasha is the most competent and consistent cook out of everyone. sis can pull a three-course meal for six without breaking a sweat and it'll be the best thing you've had. where talent, practice and taste meet 10/10 please bring her back i miss her so mu

2. melanie: an instinctive cook. is talented enough that her reluctance to look up recipes (usually) does not backfire. will stab you if you insinuate that microwaving is a good option in any scenario. her and georgie definitely have dates that consist of looking up a dish they want to try and making it together. 9/10 melanie is wise & talented.

3. martin: martin grew up cooking for his mom, which means that he can do it quite well but sometimes chooses not to because some dishes bring up bad memories. also probably gets VERY stressed when inside the kitchen. his baking game, tho? INCREDIBLE. 8/10 where do you think tim got that cake for jon’s birthday

4. georgie: her instinct isn’t as strong as melanie’s but still, she has a whole set of meals that she has perfected. ultimately the cooking power of wtgfs is unparalleled. 8/10 georgina barker is not only an excellent podcaster but also an excellent cook

5. gerry: i know what you are thinking. i, too, thought “this dude sounds like he smells like he eats grilled cheese 10 times a week because that’s the only thing he can make”. but consider: gerry’s secret hobby is cooking. i raise to you the Gerard Delano Greatest Hits: 3am banana bread, vegetable lasagna, slightly burnt lentil burgers. dude enjoys every second of it. 7/10 if he was alive he would binge cooking videos and attempt to make Binging with Babish: Ratatouille and fail, but only slightly

6. jon: his palak paneer? his biryani? surprisingly good for a man who does outrageously stupid stuff on a daily basis. evidence for this claim: jon was raised by his grandma, and while that woman did raise up a hot mess of a person, she also raised a self-sufficient man. 7/10 i would like to add that his spice tolerance is very high. first time he cooks for martin in the scottish safehouse is tragic (for martin)

bonus: jon could never cook with melanie because he’d be around screaming “IT SAYS. A CUP. OF MILK”. she’d say “we’re just adding a splash” and he would lose it because they need to follow the recipe melanie

7. gertrude: im assuming ms. robinson is as good at cooking as she is at scheming. i also assume that she only makes practical meals because she believes that her time has more efficient uses (like scheming) and doesn’t have any strong feelings about food anyway. theoretically, she CAN manage complex stuff. we’ll never know for sure though (unless someone finally writes a MasterChef TMA AU). 6?/10 as always a mystery

8. basira: basira subsists on microwaved food only and does not give a single fuck about it. A few years ago she ate actual fresh food, felt the best she has since high school, and proceeded to not do it again. in the rare occasion that she does get into the kitchen, she can improvise with limited success. 6/10 with a little bit of practice she could improve but, again, zero fucks to give

9. tim: Word Of God says that he would be an ambitious cook and I buy it. tim will look at some youtube videos and feel the need to make steaming soup dumplings and Crème brûlée. he will wing them and come up with something barely edible but still feel satisfied. also, he has exactly two (02) breakfasts and dinners he’s perfected for any date that needs impressing. 5/10 keep an eye on him at the kitchen

10. daisy: both daisy and basira have the same (poor) eating habits. however, here is The Tonner Contradiction: daisy can’t cook for shit, but appreciates and loves a good meal with all her heart. 4/10 favorite meal: steak au poivre favorite meal that she can make herself: beans on toast

11. plukas: can’t even tell when food has gone bad. honestly? his stomach can’t either. 1/10

12. elias: elias “dust eating rat” bouchard has not cooked a day in his life. when elias “avatar of the dumbass” bouchard walks inside of a kitchen he feels disgust and hatred churning inside his stomach. elias “little weasel” bouchard would rather starve than touch a pot. in the old days he had a personal chef, but nowadays he just goes out to some overpriced restaurant. also: elias “dingus” bouchard calls mayo spicy. 0/10 i despise him and want him dead.

#i have very strong feelings about food #also the concept of jon cooking for martin and viceversa in the scottish safehouse times.... important #tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #jon sims #martin blackwood #basira tma #daisy tma #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #melanie king #georgie barker #gerard delano #tma gertrude #just realized that i have been in tumblr for like 4 years and i have never written a text posts wow wild

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thedomistuffed · 4 years ago

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The last weeks I’ve been struggling with eating. I mean over eating. At least that’s what I thought, I was sure I was binging cause I was so hungry. I ate, stopped and an hour later I was eating a large meal again. I was so disgusted to the point of purging again. I am scared of hunger but everyday I tried to restrict I just couldn’t deal with hunger. And I can’t live like this. I’m trying to keep up some “healthy days” while I finish my classes. A kind of recovery but not so literal. And I’m sharing my meals to keep control. I gained like 6kg and I can barely look at myself in the mirror without feeling disgust. I scratched my throat with the purging and after almost a year I sadly relapsed on other self harm behaviors.

Anyways! Here’s breakfast and after gym snack. I’m not measuring or counting calories. Just trying to eat the most normal and healthy life (no “clean eating”, no diets, no junk food unless I want it)

I had a toast with avocado and grilled chicken with some grapes. Tasted super good.

Snack it’s 2 rice cakes with cream cheese and turkey ham, a bit of fruit and 1/2 sweet bread.

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prompt-master · 4 years ago

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The student slams their hands down on her podium.

"I'm telling you, they didn't eat that fucking grilled cheese willingly!" She shouts. "Prom hates mayonnaise!! I know that for a fact!!"

A collective groan sounds through the trial room. This discussion has gone on for far too long. People are starting to get tired. Suspicious even. The student won't let it go, and though there's no way to really prove them wrong, everyone just wants her to shut up about it. You can't just ask a dead body about their condiment preferences. The whole conversation seems completely pointless.

Even Monokuma looks bored. You can't help but relate to him a little, ignoring how much that thought disgusts you. The trial had been really, really uneventful. Accusations without evidence thrown about like confetti, trains of thought that end up shoved off the rails before they can even leave the station, leads that go nowhere, pointless arguments over the most trivial of topics, and throughout the whole nine hours of debate, that robotic bear grew more and more restless, even calling recesses for us to investigate more.

Even the detective is starting to get irritated. They didn't find anything condemning on the body, and even after interrogating the other students, nothing shocking or revealing came up.

You didn't find anything good either. In fact, you haven't spoken for most of the trial. There was just nothing to say that hadn't already been said.

The victim got up sometime before the nighttime announcement, after the group agreed to tuck in early. Monokuma, bored with how little progress we were making, confirmed the fact that the victim had planned to grab a snack before heading back to their room, before the doors to the dining hall were locked.

Obviously, they didn't make it.

One student kept saying the toxic grilled cheese had been force-fed to them. They kept saying the victim would never eat mayonnaise willingly, and since that was the main source of poison (It was also, like, everywhere. If the victim hated it, they wouldn't have put so much on), it made her statement kind of difficult to believe.

There was one thing that kind of supported her theory. The tainted jar in question had no label, nor did it have a prominent scent. It was only identified as mayonnaise by one of the other students who had a very well-developed sense of smell, and was able to get past the sweet maple-syrup scent of the antifreeze. It was possible the victim mistook the mayonnaise for something else, but even then, it would be unlikely. Mayonnaise has a very distinct taste, even with heaps of poison added, so if they really hated it they would have spat it out immediately. Only a tired idiot would keep eating something they despised of their own free will.

Monokuma let out a very dramatic sigh.

"You know, I'm getting reeeal tired of this. If you kiddies don't find anything interesting soon, I might just execute one of you as compensation." He growled in that annoying voice of his. "This trial is taking wayy too long!"

Those words got us on edge. Some of the others started accusing the student while she went on about her theory. One student yelled at Monokuma for being unfair. You and the detective shared a look. This wasn't good.

One student, who'd been quiet the whole time, suddenly cleared their throat.

"I may be going out on a limb here, but...." They waited for the others to calm down before continuing. "Do you think the victim ate the mayonnaise without knowing it was mayonnaise? Antifreeze has a very sweet taste and smell. They could have mistook it for something else."

"And you are..?" You ask.

"Ultimate Auto Racer." They reply. "I work with antifreeze. I don't know about arsenic, but I do know you can easily eat antifreeze without knowing it's toxic."

The detective crosses their arms in thought. Monokuma perks up and leans out of his slumped position, almost as if electrified.

"Even so, why would they put something sweet on a grilled cheese? That's kind of an acquired taste." You say. "If we're going off the assumption they don't like mayonnaise."

Everyone is thinking now. The accusations aren't thrown around anymore. The whole trial room is quiet.

"Maybe...maybe they're right." One student pipes up quietly. "Maybe Prom thought it was something else. Maybe they didn't taste it before they put it on the sandwich."

They looked around the room timidly, shrinking under everyone else's gaze. They obviously didn't like attention.

"I-I mean, what if they thought it was butter? L-Like the jar wasn't that big, and mayo k-kind of looks like butter spread...." The student shoved out quickly. "With no label they wouldn't know, right..?"

"That's.... actually a valid point." The detective says approvingly. The student offers a small smile in response, but doesn't say anything else. Speaking up must not be their strong suit.

"It was late, right?" Another student cuts in. "We were all tired. The last execution left us all drained, since it kind of.....went wrong near the end. The victim could have been super out of it and wanted food to keep the off their mind."

"Like stress eating, but to cope with something? I do that myself, so it's not unbelievable. The victim could be like that, for all we know." Yet another adds.

"What if it wasn't intended for Prom? Like, someone else here probably really likes mayo, maybe they messed with it in hopes of killing them instead!"

"You saying the victim was a tired idiot then?"

"Do you know them enough to say otherwise?"

"Gad, this whole trial is confusing... We don't even know the victim that well, how are supposed to their killer? There's no drama to work with!"

"Maybe they grabbed the mayo thinking it was butter." The detective mused. "And when they tasted it, it probably didn't taste too much like mayo, with all that antifreeze added to it. Maybe they were too tired to remake it. The victim was on a time limit after all."

You furrow your brow in thought. The others a kind of making sense, but it's not much to go off of. You still don't know who poisoned the mayonnaise in the first place.

"Let's say that did happen. We still don't know who poisoned it." A new speaker scoffs, practically reading your thoughts exactly. "All this talk won't get us anywhere if we don't have a real suspect."

The miniscule amount of energy in the room dissolved. They were right, everyone knew it, but it'd been nice to think we were going somewhere.

The quiet student from before clears their throat. Anyone who isn't talking or spouting theories turns to look at them again.

"If, um, it's any consolation, I just remembered something...."

The detective holds up a hand to shut up the person next to them. You do the same. Eventually the trial room calms down enough for the student to talk. Monokuma giggles.

They take a deep breath, like whatever's on their mind is really hard to say. "I....I did see someone mucking around in the storage closet."

A truly riveting murder trial and I hope after playing it people discourse about my character simply because they hated it and people argue over whether or not i was a good person and the answer to that question is a mysterious wink

#ask #prom is talking #long post #eventually everyone just straight up forgets i died #and ghost prom is like 'damn yall rude af thats hilarious'

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prisonrose · 4 years ago

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Update: The Chips™️

I’m in the middle of a really amusing drabble but I realized suddenly that I failed to update you guys on the situation from yesterday. Feel free to skip this post if OOC stuff ain’t your cuppa but if you read no further, read this:

Pringles®️ Wendy's®️ Baconator®️ chips are LEGITIMATELY THE MOST DISGUSTING CHIPS I’VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. DO NOT BUY THEM. THEY MIGHT KILL YOU. IF YOU SEE THEM BEING STOCKED ON YOUR SHELVES, RUN, AND IF YOU FIND YOURSELF CORNED BY A HORDE OF THEM, SET THE ALPHA CHIP ON FIRE AND QUICKLY MAKE YOUR DARING ESCAPE AS THEY FIGHT FOR DOMINANCE. THIS IS NOT A GAME.

I should preface this that when I purchased the Devil Chips, at first I was feeling a thrill of excitement, but that soon turned to one of imminent dread. I had no way of knowing how bad it would be, but some tiny voice in my head was trying to warn me about the coming tribulations. I’m sure of it. Even though I was excited to try them, I placed them aside for hours after I bought them, too nervous to open it up.

Finally, I got brave. The people deserve to know, I told myself. I took off the plastic lid and broke the freshness seal, and. My god the SMELL. It smelled like sour cream that had been left in the hot, afternoon sun for a few hours. I laughed, unable to believe the mess my presumptuous nature had landed me in. The sort of nervous laughter one gets when signing their own death warrant.

But I was still feeling cautiously optimistic. “Who knows!” I told myself. “Maybe it’s like one of those fancy cheeses that smells awful but apparently taste great, you know? I took the first chip out and like... I really can’t emphasize how strong the STANK from just one of these monsters was, and I’m a person with a TERRIBLE sense of smell. But, looking at it, it looked... normal? Like a moderately seasoned Pringle®️.

And then I ate it.

You do not know true anguish until you’ve had a Pringles®️ Wendy's®️ Baconator®️ chip. I am only slightly exaggerating when I say tasting one of these abominations to God is only a step removed from losing your loving parents / caregivers in a tragic plane crash.

It tastes like industrial runoff. I did not taste any bacon. I DID taste what might be pretending to be the apparent “artificially flavored” pretend-burger flavor. Only it tasted more like what you might scrape off a grill instead of something actually resembling meat.

Because I apparently enjoy punishment, I had another one, and this one was even worse than the first. I hadn’t tasted the rancid dairy flavor the first time. I did this time. It mingled with the flavor of burnt rubber on pavement and coated the back of my throat with vile oily secretions. I am not kidding when I said I genuinely struggled to get this one down without gagging, or worse.

But even then -- even NOW, my torment is not over. To rid myself of the vile taste and soothe my enraged tummy, I chugged some store brand ginger ale, and it provided instant relief. But then I burped. And it had me reliving the taste and the stench all over again. I fear this is a mistake that will likely be living with me until I wake up for work tomorrow.

In short. Do not buy Pringles®️ Wendy's®️ Baconator®️ chips. This is an idea that sounds good -- promising, even -- on paper. I mean, we get Bacon Bits to taste so good, and it’s fucking vegan, so of course we can make a chip taste like a sandwich, right??? We have the technology.

DO NOT LET YOUR CURIOSITY DECEIVE YOU. IT IS A TRAP. YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF SUCKING IN THE FUMES OF A PARTICULARLY POTENT DOG FART THAN EATING AND SPENDING ACTUAL REAL WORLD MONEY ON THIS MARKETING ABORTION.

IT IS SIN INCARNATE. THIS IS GOD’S JUDGEMENT COME TO CLEANSE US OFF THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH. THE APOCALYPSE IS HERE AND ITS NAME IS PRINGLES®️ WENDY’S®️ BACONATOR®️!!!!!

... Okay, it’s a fucking chip. But it still did literally almost make me throw up so SERIOUSLY do not buy it, I’m fucking serious.

0/10 stars. If negative scores were possible, I’d give it that instead.

#{ooc}; i will not shut up

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xserpentlife · 4 years ago

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50 questions tag !

Tagged by no one but I saw @romanticgumchewer do it and thought it was cool so

1.) What color is your hairbrush?

so like i have bout 5 probably but now i only use one in the shower ad its this turqiouse bue color cause ya’ll if you got frizz or curls dont brush ya hair really at all just use ya fingers but also do it with conditioner and in the shower

2.) Name a food you never eat

freaking seafood eh blegh

3.) Are you usually too warm or too cold?

warm. all. the. time.

4.) What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

uhm swimming... no dinner and smelling disgusting seafood that made me wanna barf cause thsts whst my aunt/uncle and grandparents were making for dinner

5.) What’s your favorite candy bar?

oo idk uhm crunch noooo a flake bar they are from europe no like ireland i think so fucking good lemme tell you

6.) Have you ever been to a professional sports game?

yeah. Eagles, flyers, and phillies, and the reading phillies if you count them, oh and the 76ers and some college gsmes i think that is it

7.) What’s the last thing you said out loud?

nope i don’t want a smore

8.) What’s your favorite ice cream?

yall i got so many lemme get you on this shit. okay so ben and jerrys we talkin then its gottabe phish phood oj shit, but like all in al my fav is black raspberry tbh but also like i do keto so i do love me some coffee ice cream cause i can usually find that in “keto” ones. i like keto enlightened ice cream bars they are decent and low carb

9.) What was the last thing you had to drink?

crystal light or it may have been turkey hill diet green tea

10.) Do you like your wallet?

i mean yeah its a black michael kors it does it purpose lol, mostly i like it cause it has a lot of space for cards which like all my gift cards go there the only thing i don’t like is that the bitch gets hela heavy when coins get in it like jesus

11.) What’s the last thing you ate?

ham and cheese roll ups for diner cause they had fuckin seafood lol boutta be carots, but also wasn’t that hungry lol

12.) Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

nope!

13.) What’s the last sporting event you watched?

i believe that it was UFC

14.) What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

butter or white cheddar

15.) Who’s the last person you sent a text to?

my best friends so my friend from vegas and @wayward-river

16.) Ever go camping?

yep!

17.) Do you take vitamins?

i take a probiotic

18.) Do you go to church every Sunday?

nope

19.) Do you have a tan?

yupppp

20.) Do you prefer Chinese or pizza?

oooo uhm depends on what type of piza but ima say pizza... i have a cheese addiction

21.) Do you drink soda through a straw?

i don’t drink soda anymore

22.) What color socks do you usually wear?

vans socks in literally any color usually not black i try to get colored ones cause if i get the black i can never tell te old from the new unless they are like streched out or somethin

23.) Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

uhm yes lol. its my downfall but also like either go the speed limit or go 5 miles over do not go under becuase that is just not an option

24.) What terrifies you?

many things.

25.) Look to your left, what to you see?

flowers

26.) What chore do you hate the most?

vacuuming the sound drives me nuts. or no putting away laundry like hanging it up idk why i hate it but i do lik ill wash shit and fold it but actuly putting it way drives me nuts

27.) What do you think when you hear an Australian accent?

uhm hiiii but also adelaide idk why

28.) What’s your favorite soda?

dont drink it i drink ice drinks instead or the safeway brand sparkling water

29.) Do you go in fast food or in the drive through?

drive through

30.) What’s your favorite number?

31.) Who’s the last person you talked to?

in person? my little cousin

32.) Favorite cut of beef?

chicken just so many things can be done. chicken parm, grilled chicken, bbq chicken need i go on

33.) Last song you listened to?

welp i checked spotfy we were at the pool and it was me and my little cousin i was playing ehr playlist so it was did i mention from descendants hahah

34.) Last book you read?

oh god uhm i have no idea

35.) Can you say the alphabet backwards?

no unless i go throguh the whole thing letter...... by.... letter

36.) Favorite day of the week?

thursday

37.) How do you like your coffee?

Iced with heavy cream i prefer cold brew or espresso tho, but usually cold brew

38.) Favorite pair of shoes?

Vans

39.) Time you normally wake up?

10- 10:30 sometimes 9

40.) Sunrise or sunsets?

sunsets

41.) How many blankets on your bed?

usually just my comforter sometimes my comforter and one or two otehrs dring the winter cause i like to be cold and keep my window open i keep my bedroom door closed and the heat in my room off

42.) Describe your kitchen plates?

i live with my aprents im still in college but when im at school rndoms hit that is cheap

43.) Describe your kitchen at the moment?

tiny dorm kitchen or it will be first on campus apartment that looks like an insane asylum checkkkkkkk

44.) Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

i mean its not legal to sayyyyy

45.) Do you play cards?

yes omggggg my grandma s from the south i grew up on card games 500 rummy, oh hell too, i played poker with my grandpa to and 21

46.) What color is your car?

dark blue... kiki

47.) Can you change a tire?

yeppp!

48.) Your favorite state, province, country, etc.?

uhm idk i live in pennsylvania but I wouldn’t say i have a favorite state at least not yet

49.) Favorite job you’ve had?

I worked at this axe throwing place and honestly it was my favorite job i had. I was an axe master I basicaly taght people how to throw axes and like led mini games for hour long sessions it was hella fun, but my college scheldue and doctors appt got in the way so i got let go but it was fun while it lasted. or my own business i do photography on the side so that is also amazing and i absolutely love it and ned to do more of it.

50.) How did you get your biggest scar?

oh god i don’t even know.. i have huge scards from my chronic skin condition so either that orrrr maybe the scar on my leg it is not that big though like size of a nickel where a kick stand went into my leg, a lot of my scars are smaller or like blend into my skin fairly ell cause of my other scars or honestly i forget about them cause. i hae so many so i realy am not sure.

i tag @wayward-river @the-gargoyle-queen @whenallsaidanddone @riverdalebingo @theangriestpea @southsidevixen-blog

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thejacketandthehook · 5 years ago

Text

Breaking Dawn 6/?

Title: Before Dawn

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones only had one thing in common: Emma’s best friend and Killian’s brother were dating. But Emma and Killian could not get along. That was, until the day they had to work together through a tragedy that no one saw coming.

Rating: General (but that will change to Mature in later chapters)

Word Count: 22,955

Disclaimers: I own absolutely nothing.

Author’s Notes: So, I’ve been in the mist of writing this particular story for almost two years. And I’m hoping that if I have support, I’ll be more motivated to finish it. So my story is based off of the movie “Life As We Know It” starring Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel. And below is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy.

You can also read it here: A03

@searchingwardrobes

When you lived with someone, it became easier and easier to learn the little things about them. Things that no one else was privy too, or was even aware of. And there were things about Killian Jones that Emma came to realize. And most of them were actually good things, even though she couldn't believe that. For instance, she was surprised to learn that unlike her, Killian was actually a morning person. Which was a good thing, considering that he worked on the docks and often had to be there just as the sun was rising. He was also up by the time Henry started to stir, so that also was a major plus for him. Also, that he never drank coffee. Not that he was much of a tea person, but coffee was something that just "tasted disgusting." Emma almost dropped her coffee mug when he proclaimed that one morning. Also, he was exceptionally neat. Everything had its place, and it just made sense to keep it all organized.

And he could cook. Not just heat up some spaghetti and meatballs cook, but actually cook. She was stunned when one day she came from home work to the house smelling like meat, garlic, and onions. Emma almost floated to the kitchen, her nose her guide as she took in that magnificent smell. For someone who basically lived off of ramen noodles, the smell coming from the kitchen might as well have been from heaven. Her mouth watered, her stomached growled (she didn't even realize she was hungry) and her mind could think of nothing but what was making that wonderful smell. She was expecting to see Mary Margaret in the kitchen - as sexist as that sounded, Emma was certain that Mary Margaret could cook like a master chef; she just had that look. So she was stunned when she saw Killian actually putting a huge pan of something into the oven and look over his shoulder as he closed it. "Ah," he said, either ignoring Emma's jaw that hit the floor, or not noticing it. "Dinner should be ready in about a half hour. The mashed potatoes have to turn a slight golden color."

"What are you--" There was so much moisture in Emma's mouth, it was almost embarrassing. She was acting like Pavlovs' freaking dogs! "What are you making?"

"Sheppard Pie. A classic back in England." He wiped his hands on the towel beside the stove before working on the dishes that piled up in the sink.

Emma dropped her bag on the table and said, "I got it. I'll do the dishes. After all, you made dinner."

He smiled. "I can live with that." He stepped aside and wiped his hands again.

But the surprises just kept on coming.

"Wait, you can play the guitar?" Emma asked dumbly almost a month after Mrs. Gold's appearance. She watched Killian take a guitar out of the case and put the strap for it around his body.

He raised an eyebrow and looked up at her from under his hooded brows. He looked back down as he started to tune it. "See how I'm holding a guitar and currently tuning it, that could give you some indication."

"Just because I know how to turn an engine on doesn't mean I'm a racecar driver," she responded, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

He chuckled light. "Touché."

Or the fact that he knew how to sail a boat. And not a little motorboat, no, but an actual boat, with sails and such. He's talked about bringing Henry out onto the water with him, but that Emma put her foot down. She's sure that he's great at sailing, but doing so with a baby a little over a year old? No. That she would not agree to.

"Why don't you come too?" he would ask.

Emma would shake her head no, with no explanation, and leave the room.

Of course, though there were things about Killian that made her raise an eyebrow. He had traits that continually got under her skin.

His language was something that Emma had to continually tell him to watch, especially since Henry should be saying his first coherent word any day now. Emma would die if his first coherent word was "bloody."

He also kept forgetting that he wasn't living in a bachelor pad anymore. He would hog the television for hours, watching a soccer match after soccer match. Emma had no idea how he could stand to watch people running around after a ball and call that entertainment.

What drove her crazy, in all honestly, was how freaking amazing he was with Henry. Sometimes, just a few times, Emma watched Killian with Henry and in the back of her mind she could see why Elsa thought she and him would have been good together. He loves Henry, that's a no brainer. And he doesn't mind being silly, if it makes the baby laugh. Killian's favorite thing to do was to blow on Henry's tummy, make him squeal and laugh at the same time. And in moments like that, Emma smiled because she forgot that her best friend was gone and she was suddenly taking care of their house, their child, what should have been their future. When she saw Killian with Henry, she almost wanted to turn around and tell Elsa that maybe he wasn't so bad. She would never admit that she liked him, but she could say that she more than tolerated him.

Emma wasn't the only one who was surprised at learning the little things about Killian. The man himself was shocked to learn the little tidbits that made up Emma Swan. Like how she was not a morning person. Get her up before seven, and you might as well be asking for a suicide mission. One morning, when Henry was crying nonstop while Killian was in the shower, she had gotten up to take care of him. Killian was surprised when he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his wet head with a towel, to find Emma still in her pajamas (a baggy shirt and boxer shorts that made his heart speed up in a way he really didn't like), her hair a huge mess and black circles under her eyes while Henry was nipping at the pieces of bagel as he sat in his highchair. When she saw Killian, she muttered, "Yours" as she passed him, presumably going back up to bed. For reasons he didn't know, he couldn't stop thinking about that morning for weeks.

Or that she was messy. She left dirty cups in the sink and it seemed like her supply of shoes just kept multiplying. Though he didn't really like going into what they called her bedroom (which at one time was the guest room), he had to once to put jewelry back in her room before Henry got it. Though the bed was made, the rest of the room liked like a bomb exploded; clothes everywhere, shoes that he was sure she stepped on continuously, and a garbage can overflowing with trash.

She also ate like she was in high school. If Emma had her way, they would eat nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings. While Killian agreed that both of those things were amazing, neither one of them could (or should) eat that every day. When he inquired what she did with Walsh, she simply shrugged and said, "We discuss what take-out we're going to get. Neither of us cook."

But he also noticed how, when she got home from the work, the first thing she did was go over to kiss Henry on the head. Whether he was sleeping, watching television, or just babbling to himself, she always kissed him on the head. Or that at least once a week, she needed to have a glass wine at dinner. Or she was always ordering stuff for Henry through Amazon. He didn't know why he liked knowing these things about her; he just did. It almost tickled him to know that he was probably the only person who knew that Emma cried whenever that commercial about the two people falling in love over gum came on. Okay, maybe "cried" was the wrong word; more like she teared up. Point being that she was a woman who had a lot of walls up and she didn't like to show too much emotion. So when she did around him, he felt honored. Like he was being rewarded for good behavior or something. He liked it.

What he didn't like was the Walsh probably knew what she looked like first thing in the morning too. Or that she was messy. Or that she licked Nutella off of a spoon when she was stressed. She watches The Princess Bride (and had the whole movie memorized) when she's upset. He knew he was the only one who saw her get emotional, because he knew what she was like around other people. But when you live with someone, you can't put your walls up 24/7. And he liked that. He liked that he saw her tear up, show emotions.

He just couldn't understand why he didn't like Walsh knowing things about her too. It was like he wanted to keep her a secret or something. He didn't want other people knowing things about her. It was stupid, idiotic. He told himself that constantly. But that didn't stop the pang of something deep in his gut when he saw her stumbling into the kitchen and automatically going to the coffee maker. Because Walsh, he was sure, has seen her like that. And he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He told Robin about his problems, during one of his nights off that he got. Emma and he kept pretty close to their schedules, which helped trying to balance their once normal lives for what they were living now.

Robin, however, was useless. He just simply chuckled and told Killian that Emma was getting under his skin. "Better watch it, mate," he said, gulping his beer. "You might find yourself falling for her."

"Not bloody likely," he said, gulping his drink as well.

~*~

Emma forgot it could get this hot.

It was a muggy and humid 95 degrees Fahrenheit, and it only day two of what to seemed to be the week literally from Hell.

"Good Lord, I didn't think Maine could get this hot," Killian said one late evening. He stood in front of the small fan that they found in the basement, trying to cool himself off.

"I can't believe they didn't have central air," Emma commented, bouncing Henry on her lap, though how he kept laughing was beyond her. Her lap was all sweaty, and he himself had small sweat beads along his forehead. When she noticed that, she quickly wiped at it with a damn towel before giving him his bottle filled with water.

"It's an old house, Swan. The cost of that would have been outrageous. Plus, who knew it could ever have such a long heat wave in Maine?"

"The meteorologists say we've broken a new record,"

"Well, I will always remember where I was the week we had a heat wave that broke a record," he said, moving away from the fan before clasping in the chair. His shirt was undeniably soaked through, and Emma most certainly was glad he didn't take it off. Because she didn't need to see him with his hair chest glory. Not that she knew what he looked like without a shirt--Wait, no. That wasn't actually true. There was that one summer that Liam and Elsa took Killian and Emma to the beach once. They only did it once because Emma and Killian fought so much, no one really could enjoy themselves. She even commented when he took his shirt off that no one wanted to see that. He gave a remark that made her roll her eyes and stick her tongue out at him.

"I'm sorry," Elsa had remarked after she watched their exchange. Liam and Killian were walking over to the water, and Emma was so happy to have a few minutes of quiet. However, she could tell from Elsa's tone that what she was about to say would not be a genuine apology, but rather a comment. "But are you two twelve-years-old?"

Suffice to say, neither Emma nor Killian went with them to the beach again.

Killian continued with his rant. "I was in a house with no air conditioner, sweating my --"

"Killian," Emma said sternly before purposely looking down at Henry who was watching his uncle with the upmost fascination.

He changed paths. "Sweating profusely."

"There is an air conditioner," Emma finally remembered.

"What? Where?"

She took a deep breath. "In the Master."

Killian's eyes looked up towards the stairs. "Oh."

They were silent. It had been four months since....the funerals, and neither of them have stepped foot inside of that room.

Henry started munching at his hands, getting them all wet. "Oh, he's biting his hands again." Killian got up and went to the freezer to get him his teething toy.

Killian gave him the toy, and Henry started happily biting at it. "We have to do it, Swan."

"I know."

"For Henry's sake."

"Of course."

Killian walked over to the stairs. Emma picked Henry up and held him against her hip. "We can do this," she told him, as well as herself.

"I know. It's just..."

She took his hand in her empty one and squeezed before dropping it. "I know."

He nodded. She did know. That's why doing this with her, just going into this room...She knows what that means. No one else would truly understand, but she gets it.

They went upstairs and walked down the hallway together. When they got to the room, Killian took a deep breath before opening the door. It creaked and slowly opened. Emma straighten Henry on her hip before fixing her shoulders and walked into the room.

She almost wanted to walk right back out.

Here's the thing with unexpected deaths: everything looks normal on the surface. And that's what killed Emma. Because everything looks normal. Elsa's make-up table was waiting for her to come back. In fact, her little stool was pushed back just enough, probably from the last time she sat in it. Liam's shoes were lined up in front of the closet, waiting for him to come back and pick one to wear. The remotes for the television and Amazon Fire were sitting on top of each other on the nightstand, next to the book Liam was reading, a bookmark poking out of it. The pillows were crooked and Elsa's dresser had clothes sticking out of it and it was just a little too much. Because this room....This was Elsa and Liam's private place. Of course Emma was in here before, and Killian was too. Just usually with either Elsa or Liam.

Killian walked in next to Emma and took her hand. "We can do this," he reminded her. "For Henry."

The little boy in Emma's arms had no idea what was going on around him, and kept munching on the ice in his hand. Emma rubbed the back of his head as Killian stepped further into the room and over to the air conditioner. It took Killian a few seconds to figure out why it wasn't turning on ("Plugging it in usually helps." "Shut up, Swan.") but then the machine started making the sounds of turning back on and suddenly the place was finally going to cool down.

Emma sat down with Henry on the bed, the little boy dropping his ice before getting up and jumping on the bed. He was falling more than he was standing up, but he was laughing.

"Careful lad," Killian insisted before walking over to him. He held Henry's hands, who now more stable, jumped even more.

Emma couldn't relax, and instead walked over to Elsa's vanity. Elsa loved her make-up, and had more brushes that Emma had ever used in a lifetime. Though make-up was never high on Emma's list of needs, she knew how foundation worked, and mascara, and eye shadow and such. But when you get into highlighter and eyelash curler, Emma shook her head. She had no idea how those things worked, and honestly didn't care at this point. Oh, she wouldn't care if Elsa put it on her, in fact she loved those nights when Elsa wanted to test a new product on someone and Emma was a willing subject. She herself just had no idea how to use it.

"Oh, I forgot they had Netflix in here," Killian said, sitting on the bed as Henry cuddled up next to him. "What do you want to watch, lad? Mickey Mouse?"

Emma smiled over at them before going and sitting next to Henry on the bed. Henry started sucking his thumb and within minutes of watching Killian try to find something that would entertain him, he was tight asleep.

Emma leaned back on the bed, prompting herself up on the pillows. Killian then leaned back as well, and noticing that Henry was sleeping, whispered to Emma, "Want to watch anything on Netflix?"

"Are we going to Netflix and chill?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Emma wished for them to come back in. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, certain that Killian was going to make some comment. After all, she opened the door to it.

But when she heard nothing but the sound of the air conditioner, she opened her eyes and saw him just looking at her with a small grin.

"Did you just position me? Because --"

"Oh, shut up," she muttered as she fidgeted.

Surprisingly, he stopped talking. She gave him a small glance (he was still grinning) before looking back at the screen. Killian was clicking through the choices before --

"That one!" she said.

He stopped before looking at her. With a raised eyebrow he asked, "Lucifer?"

She shrugged. She didn't want to admit that she had a small crush on Tom Ellis, from watching him in a British show that she had stumbled across a year ago named Miranda. She especially didn't want to point out that Tom Ellis was British, with dark hair, and (from what she saw in interviews on Youtube) was a total dork. She especially didn't want to point that out because if Tom Ellis had blue eyes, it would sound like she was describing the man sitting next to her.

"I heard it was good," was her only defense.

Killian looked at her before pressing the play button. "Let's see if you're right, Swan."

~*~

They watched the first three episodes before falling asleep during the fourth. They tried to stay awake, but the heat and a one-year-old will do that to you.

~*~

It was a Tuesday night, which meant that Emma was blessedly free. However, Mary Margaret wasn't picking up her phone and Emma really didn't feel like making small talk with Regina, so she was kind of just hanging out in her bedroom. She should go out. Go to a club for a while. Or a bar, at least. Maybe see a movie. It was weird seeing a movie by yourself, but Emma read somewhere that it was actually a wonderful experience. Or she could call Walsh and spend some time with him. She saw him on Sunday, but for some reason she just didn't want to spend another night hanging out in his apartment or going to some restaurant. She was so sick of eating out. Killian made such wonderful meals, she was actually getting spoiled.

She was thinking of maybe reading a book when she could hear the sounds of someone (hopefully Killian) running up the stairs and towards her room. Without knocking, he slammed opened the door and before she could yell at him about privacy or ask him if Henry was alright, he said, "Mary Margaret's in labor."

Emma jumped off her bed before asking, "How do you--?"

"I just saw David bringing her to the car. He said her water broke."

"Oh, they must be so thrilled! They're gonna keep us updated?"

"I asked David to do so, but I bet he's gonna be really busy."

"Right of course. We should go see them, when the baby arrives."

He nodded. "I was thinking that too. We should bring flowers. Or something."

"Maybe food. Don't women want regular food after they give birth?"

He raised an eyebrow. "How would I bloody know?"

"I just meant--I don't know either, but I'm sure that that would be a good idea."

"Whatever you say, love. I'll keep you updated."

"Yes, please."

Hours had passed and they still hadn't heard a word. Neither were too concerned, though. Emma, especially, remembered Elsa's delivery with Henry. Though Emma had been patiently waiting in the lobby for any update, she was told later by Liam that Elsa yelled insults at him that would have made a sailor blush. "But," he smiled down at his boy, "twenty hours of labor was worth it for this fellow."

"I don't see you pushing a baby out of your body," a slightly drugged up Elsa retorted.

"Nor will you ever see that." Liam then leaned down and lightly kissed his wife's forehead. "You're bloody amazing, though."

Emma was actually at work the next day, trying not to roll her eyes at Graham as he once again missed the bullseye badly, when her phone rang.

"Killian?"

"Yeah, David said she had the baby."

Emma practically bounced in her seat. "And...?"

"And what?"

"Killian!"

He chuckled. "A boy. Mummy and baby are fine."

Emma smiled wistfully. "A boy. Does he have a name?"

"No, not yet. When is your lunch break? I'll come by and pick you up."

"On what, your motorcycle?"

"No, love, the...Liam's car. I found the keys."

"Oh. I get off in--" she looked down at her watch "-half an hour."

"I'll be there."

When she hung up, Graham was looking over at her. "What?"

"Nothing. Just sounded so...domestic."

"Shut up. You try living with someone for three months and not sound domestic from time to time."

"It's not a bad thing, Emma. I'm actually quite proud of you."

"Proud?"

"Yeah. You are living a, dare I say it? Normal life with a man you can barely tolerate. I'm proud of you."

"Shut up, Graham."

Sure enough, a half hour later, Killian pulled up in Liam's CRV. Emma jumped into the passenger's seat before taking a deep breath. "Did you stop at Granny's?" She said, referring to the diner that both Killian and Emma have considered to be their second home. Which is ironic, considering that was where their first date was held.

"Aye. I got Mary Margaret a turkey sandwich, unsure if she would want to eat anything more than that. But I also got you a grilled cheese."

Emma reached behind her to pull out her sandwich as Killian backed up and pulled out of the parking lot. "Oh, my God, thank you! I've been craving one all day." As she opened the container she asked, "Henry's at day care?"

Killian gasped before saying, "Damn it! I knew I forgot something!"

Emma almost dropped her sandwich, ready to turn this car around and go back home before he chuckled. "I'm kidding, love. Aye, Henry's at daycare."

She shook her head before muttering, "I hate you."

Killian smiled, knowing that she was just saying that.

~*~

They walked quickly into the hospital, smiling from ear to ear. Emma barely remembers even asking the nurse for Mary Margaret's room number, but luckily Killian caught the number and lead her down the hallway.

Knocking gently, Emma slowly opened the door to reveal an exhausted looking Mary Margaret on the bed and David standing by the windows, gently bouncing a buddle of blankets in his arms.

"Can we come in?" she asked.

"Of course! Of course!" Mary Margaret insisted as she gestured for them to come further into the room.

"Congratulations you guys," Emma commented before going over to Mary Margaret. On sudden impulse, Emma leaned down and quickly gave the new mother a quick peck on the cheek. Mary Margaret looked surprised by this, but other than giving a small smile said nothing.

"Yes, congrats to you both," Killian said before placing the bag from Granny's on the small table in front of Mary Margaret. "We brought this, thinking you might actually want food instead of flowers."

"Oh, that's a lovely thought," Mary Margaret replied, tears gathering in her eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I'm an emotional rollercoaster right now." She reached over for a tissue before wiping her eyes and giving a small laugh. "You're gonna have to excuse me."

"Of course love," Killian said with a small smile.

"Is that him?" Emma asked as she walked over to David.

David smiled down at his son. "Yes. May I introduce you two to Mr. Leo Nolan."

Emma leaned over David, gently holding onto his shoulder. "Hello Leo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hi Leo," Killian said, also smiling over at the boy. He looked back over at Mary Margaret. "And how are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Probably as good as I look."

"You look bloody amazing."

"That's what I told her!" David insisted.

Mary Margaret scoffed. "He lies and you swear to it," she said as she shook her head.

"Do you want to hold him?" David asked Emma.

"Sure!" she exclaimed before dropping her purse on the chair and holding her arms out for the newborn. She remembers the first time she held Henry, and is once again surprised by the weight of the baby. Or rather, the lack of one. "God, how can babies be so light?" she remembered asking Liam and Elsa. "I've held books heavier than him."

"Hi Leo," she said now to the baby in her arms. "It's so very nice to meet you."

"Can I hold him?" Killian asked.

"Of course," Mary Margaret said as David squeezed in next to her on the bed.

Emma handed Leo over to Killian, who gently took him in his arms. He began very gently bouncing Leo, and Emma tried very hard not to smile at the imagine.

When she looked over at the couple on the bed, she noticed David watching Killian with a small smile that new fathers can never seem to get rid of, but saw Mary Margaret looking straight at her with a smile of her own.

"What?" Emma asked, but Mary Margaret simply shook her head and looked over at Killian.

~*~

Emma and Killian were walking down the hallway talking about Leo and leading back towards the lobby when Emma turned her head to the left. It wasn't like she saw something out of the corner of her eye, or even that a voice in her head said to turn left. She just did. And she saw the hallway. The hallway that only a few months ago she, Killian, and Walsh ran down to get to the stairs. The hallway that would lead her to the biggest change in her life (and for her, that was a pretty big deal).

"Swan!?"

Emma quickly looked in front of her to see Killian about four feet ahead. He walked back, his eyebrows knitted together, concern all over his face. "Swan? Are you okay? I called you a couple of times, and you just stopped walking."

"Yeah, no. No, I'm fine. I am. I just..." She looked back down the hallway. Just like in movies, she could almost see three ghosts running down the hallway, heading towards the stairs. She wanted to burst into tears. How could she be so happy just minutes ago, so happy about a life coming into this world, when her best friend and her husband died in this very building just months ago? How could she walk into this hospital and not even pause for a moment to remember them?

Was she forgetting them?

Emma almost had to stop the gasp of breath from leaving her mouth, but knew that she couldn't stop the tears gathering up in her eyes. She was moments away from losing it, she just knew it.

Killian gently touched her arm. "Emma? Love, what is it? What's going on?"

Emma simply nodded her head towards the hallway. She knew that Killian understood, because a moment later he just simply went, "Oh."

So gently, Emma almost didn't even realize it at first, Killian put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the exit. They said nothing, both holding back tears as they walked to the car.

When Killian unlocked the car, Emma ran towards the passenger's seat and opened the door as quickly as she could. The door hadn't even shut before she let out a loud gasp and the tears that had been threatening to fall, came quickly down her face. She took a loud breath as Killian got into the car and shut the door, his head falling back onto the head rest.

"I didn't even think about them!" she sobbed. "How could I not remember them when we got here?"

"Because of the baby," he said quietly, though she was sure that his voice was shaking. She couldn't see through the tears in her eyes, but she was certain that he was crying too.

"But I didn't give them one thought, Killian! Not one thought! What kind of friend am I?"

Killian gave no response. Or maybe he did and she didn't hear it. She was sobbing so hard, her head pounding from the lack of oxygen and how hard she was crying.

She didn't know how long she was crying in the car, whether it was a few minutes, or more like thirty, but when she calmed down enough to take deep breathes, she noticed that Killian was holding out napkins.

"Thanks," she muttered before taking them and blowing her nose in a completely unladylike manor. Then she rubbed her eyes and when she looked at the napkin, it was all smudged from her mascara. Great, she thought, I probably look like a raccoon.

She kept rubbing her eyes, reminding herself to breath as she did so. When she finally calmed down enough, she looked over at Killian. And then she wanted to break down again. Because he was not unaffected by her outburst. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was all red, probably from crying and then rubbing his face with the rough napkins.

"We're not forgetting them, Emma," he said when they both calmed down. "You're not...You're not a bad friend."

She sniffed, but said nothing.

Reaching over, he gently took her hand in his as he said, "I read...I read a quote once...'Babies remind us that time moves on.' And it's true. That's all that happened here, Emma. Leo...Leo is the future. Henry is the future. But Liam and Elsa...they are never far from my mind, and I know that Elsa is never far from yours. So, no, you're not a bad friend. You're just thinking about the future. As we all should be. And you know," he squeezed her hand as he continued, "you know that Elsa would kick your ass right now. And Liam would kick mine. We just saw a newborn baby, Emma. And that's a beautiful moment."

She nodded before doing something she never in a million years thought she would do.

She leaned over and kiss him on the cheek.

When she pulled back, she simply whispered, "Thank you." He gave her a small nod before letting go of her hand and turning on the engine.

#csfanfiction #cs ff #captain swan #fanfiction #once upon a time fanfiction #once upon a time #emma swan #killian jones

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lakinda5654 · 5 years ago

Text

~~~~A Girl and A God~~~~ Chapter 21- Touched

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A Girl and A God is a RATED M Loki Fanfic with an original character, Alexa, who is taken in by Tony Stark after the revelation of abilities of her own. There’s sex, romance, heartbreak, action, fluff, angst, all that good stuff. Full description in blog, and a jump-to-chapter list if you just want the smut or the cuteness bits. Enjoy <3

Chapter Summary: Loki shows Alexa a side of him she has never seen, and Alexa tries to play a prank on him using her new power phase...

Contains: Cuteness, fluff

Word Count: 2,013

~Previous Chapter~~Next Chapter~

~~Beginning of Story~~

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Alexa was silent for a moment. Loki watched her reaction and waited patiently for her response. “You love me?”

“I do.” He became nervous when he realized that she looked confused. “Please tell me your thoughts Petal.” He said nervously.

Alexa looked up at him. “Why? I’m mortal. I thought you determined us to be inferior and useless… how could you want to love me if you believe that? I mean if course I knew there was something between us, but…”

Alexa was cut off by his gentle kiss. “I know you are mortal, but you’re the only being who has given me a chance. Not only a chance but welcomed me with open arms and accept my past as it is a part of me.”

Loki was staring down at the sheets beneath them. “Alexa you don’t have selfish intentions. You’ve taken risks and made sacrifices, just to help me be more comfortable. No one has ever done anything like that for me.”

His voice was quiet and low. He finally looked back up at her, and their eyes locked once more. “I love you.”

They kissed again, gently. She couldn’t believe that this wasn’t a dream. He loves me...

“I love you too Loki,” she said into his lips.

After a moment of watching his warm smile, Alexa realized the time. She’d missed lunch. It shouldn’t be a big deal, all the members missed a group meal now and then. “Are you hungry?”

Loki nodded. “Ok, I’ve got something to make…” she said as she rolled over and got off the bed. She went to her closet first and pulled a sundress over her body, and slipped on underwear beneath. Loki watched her contently. She saw him staring and rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen.

She made grilled cheese with tomato soup for the two of them, and Loki wasn’t a huge fan, saying it was far too bland, but he ate it regardless.

The tension from what they’d done only a half-hour ago still hung in the room. Every now and then, Alexa would look at Loki and see those green eyes look at her with the same look he’d given before tearing her leggings off her body. It was once again driving her crazy. But she had other things on her mind, and she wanted those thoughts tended to.

“Loki…”

His attention turned from his plate to her.

“I just… I want to know you. We’re in love but we hardly know anything about each other.”

Loki pondered this for a moment. She was right, there was much to learn of the mortal he’d just confessed his love to.

“Alright. What would you like to know?”

“Well… I’d really like to know about the reason you’re skin is so cold for one.”

Loki nodded. “Alright, Petal... I'll tell you.”

After a moment to collect his thoughts, he explained to her that he was half frost-giant. How his father had taken him from a battle when he was an infant, how he didn’t know until he was an adult.

Alexa listened patiently and asked questions when she didn’t understand. “So… what makes you change form? Just anything cold?”

“No, it’s a bit more complex than that. It has to be a certain temperature, I don’t know exactly what though. I just know that it’s fairly extreme.”

Alexa nodded and paused. “Would you be okay with me seeing it?”

Loki looked uneasy for a moment. “Well, yes I suppose but we don’t have anything that…” he stopped when he realized what she was thinking. She could likely trigger it with her skin.

Loki now seemed more nervous. “Petal, it’s really not attractive. I don’t think…”

“It’s you. I don’t care if it’s attractive or not. It’s a part of you. If you’ll let me, I’d love to see it.”

Loki was clearly nervous, but he stood and walked to the couch, motioning her to follow.

He sat down, his body facing hers and she sat cross-legged on the cushion. Alexa looked into Loki’s eyes and saw his fear.

What if she’s disgusted with me…

“Hey…” Alexa said softly.

Loki looked up at her.

“I love you. If you want to keep this to yourself, you can. But I am always going to love you, no matter what you look like.”

Loki took in her words and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and held out his hands. Gently, she took them in her own and began to make her skin freeze.

She watched in fascination as Loki’s pale skin turned muted blue over his fingers, then his hands, and up his arms. The color spread until he was entirely blue. His eyes remained closed, and she took in the sight of him. He was different, but still him. There were lines along his skin, sort of like markings, that weren’t present before. Then Loki opened his eyes. They were deep red- that she hadn’t expected. Loki looked at her, his eyes full of worry about what she would say.

She leaned forward and kissed him. Gently and carefully. His lips seemed much colder than before, but she wasn’t surprised. Suddenly, he stopped her and backed up, looking afraid. Then his face changed from afraid to surprised. “You can touch me.”

“What?”

“Normally any non-front giant who touches me when I’m like that gets… almost like frostbite. Extreme frostbite that onsets immediately.”

“I mean, my own skin doesn’t hurt me. So maybe when I’m in this phase, I can.”

She then let go of his hands and watched as the blue faded from his body.

“Hey… I love you Loki.” She reached up and touched his face, not realizing her hands were still frozen cold and blue started to spread on his face from her touch. “You’re gorgeous in every form.” As she spoke, his face transformed once more, and she kissed him again. She could almost feel his relief in his every movement. He was quiet when he finally spoke.

“Thank you”

After a pause, he transformed back. Then suddenly, he became his usual mischievous self. “Gorgeous in all forms love?”

“Yes,” she said happily and kissed his nose

“Even this?” He said, and suddenly he was a very creepy looking old man, with a handlebar mustache.

“Oh my Loki, I…”

“What? You said all forms.”

“Ok... yes because I know it’s you”

“How about this?” He became a very sexy woman in a tight dress. “Yep,” Alexa said with a smile.

“Oh but what about this?” And suddenly, Loki had turned into Thor. Shirtless Thor. “Still craving and yearning for love from me?” His voice even changed with each illusion, and he leaned over close to Alexa

Alexa laughed. “I... abstain?” (*)

“Good girl.” He said in his own smiling voice as he became himself once more. They settled down a bit and began to speak more of their pasts.

Loki spoke of Asgard. Even though it wasn’t his true origin, it was his home. When he talked about it, he seemed to beam. He spoke of its beauty and the food, the palace, the mountains, everything. He also spoke of all the secret hiding places and forts he’d created for himself as a child and a teen, that were hidden by illusions from the rest of the world.

“I do hope someday we could go there so I could show you. But I don’t know if I would ever be welcome after what happened.”

Alexa was quiet. By the way he described this place, she wanted to go too. But more than that, she wanted Loki to be innocent so that they could just live their lives together. Everywhere they went, even apparently other realms, she was dating an outcast.

Breaking her train of thought, he asked “What about you? Tell me of the land you came from.”

Alexa smiled and told him about Oregon, on the other side of the country. She told him about the lush valley she lived in, and the small town she’d been raised in.

They kept talking endlessly about their pasts, how others had wronged them, how it had changed them. Their conversation went well into the evening.

Alexa hated to break the talk, but she needed to go to dinner. She also needed to sneak into Loki’s cell and get rid of the food on the plates so that it would seem he had been eating.

At dinner, she sat with Peter and quietly spoke with him about Thunder and how he was doing. He wanted to come to visit, but she told him tonight wasn’t good. She still wasn’t sure exactly where she could hide Loki if he ever wanted to stop by. She couldn’t just keep him in the bathroom, because for one that seemed weird to just shove him in there with nothing to do, but mainly because Peter also would probably need to use the bathroom at some point.

When she returned that night, Loki was already asleep on the couch in front of the TV. The show “Parks and Recreation” was still playing. She’d recommended it to him, she thought it was funny, but apparently, it bored Loki to sleep. She quietly pulled a blanket off of their bed and laid it over him. Then she leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Alexa spent the rest of that night playing with little Thunder, cleaning up their suite, and soaking up the moonlight from the helicopter pad.

As lonely as it could be, she loved having the nights all to herself. It was as if it was something only she had, even though she knew others in the world were awake, most weren’t. As the world slept, she was forever awake, able to have all this time that others didn’t. And it was all just for her. She sometimes felt that she could get away with anything because no one was there to see it.

Another day passed, and it was fairly uneventful. Alexa spent the day cuddling with Loki, watching Netflix and having him taste-test more Midguardian delights. It was so nice to spend this much time with someone she was so carefree with. It was foreign, to be so comfortable with another person, and yet she was more at peace then she had ever been. Loki felt the same. He trusted her, which was something he couldn’t ever say of anyone else in the tower or in his life at the moment.

The next evening, what Alexa called her ghost phase began to fade in. She could go through walls and float in the air as if she were in space. When she was in the height of this phase, with some effort she could even turn transparent, becoming fully what was essentially a ghost. She had been excited about this, as it provided plenty of opportunities to play tricks on her lover.

That night, Loki decided he’d shower before heading to bed. She saw her opportunity. When he wasn’t looking, she went outside and told him she would be charging for a while. Instead, she quickly floated up and faded from the outdoor balcony into the bathroom through the wall. She couldn’t be invisible just yet, but she slipped into the tub, and the shower curtain was still closed, so he couldn’t see her when he entered. She heard him sigh and she assumed he used his magic to undress because she didn’t hear any zippers or clothes hit the floor.

It was at that moment that she realized this would be the very first time she’d ever see him naked.

Do I really want this moment to be like this? A prank? Really?

Suddenly frantic, she tried to fade back through the wall behind her. Due to her moment of panic, however, she didn’t have full control and she immediately faded through the floor, not floating. With a thud, she hit the floor of the room below.

…Ow. Her back hurt from the fall, and she quickly realized the horror that she had just fallen, in her pajamas, into someone else’s private room.

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* That bit where Loki turned into Thor was inspired from a https://gingerwritess.tumblr.com/ story, I don't remember which but I know it was her.

#Loki #lokilove #lokioc #loki fanfiction #lokifanfiction #loki feels #lokicute #A Girl and A God #Fanfiction #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki x oc #loki fluff

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