#Lemon Peal Stitch

[cjdsignsworld]

Men's Tweed Crochet Scarf

Tweed Men’s Scarf Crochet Pattern Hi, Sweet Friends! Below is a link to my finished project on Afternoons With Gramma! Continue Reading… This easy men’s scarf crochet pattern is perfect for beginners, using only basic stitches to create a rustic and rugged look. I used Alpaca Yarns by Mary Maxim! They are soft and snuggly even for a rugged man! Continue Reading… I have reached my limit for…

[hantaslittlearsonist]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐌𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

Fluff and humour with Cheslock in honnor of my fav coworker.

Cheslock was leaning on the counter, writing down a customer's order. It was so hot — even in the small well-ventilated booth you were hiding from the worst of the heat in — that he had commented earlier he "felt like the inside of the dishwasher". 37°C weather should be illegal, in your opinion.

Not that Cheslock had helped his own case, in his black jean shorts and Tokyo Ghoul tee. He looked good. But hot. Overheating hot. The tee tapered in a little at the waist; the fabric was pulled in by two deliberate stitches, placed just right so they gave him a slight hourglass shape. That, added to his oversized shorts, almost made it look like he was wearing a knee-length dress from far enough away. He had ommited styling his hair today — he said it would have "deflated with the heat anyway" — so it flopped over his forehead and into his eyes and he kept having to shake his head so he could see what he was writing.

'An Orangina and a Perrier with lemon please. Oh, and a Nutella pancake for the kid.' The client listed.

You wondered why said kid wanted a pancake in this heat. Silently judging them, you went off into the back room to prepare it.

When you came back with the pancake, Cheslock was still leaning on the counter, one of his legs bent, the other stretched out straight and bearing all of his weight. He was almost lying on it at this point. The customer paid for their order, tapping their card onto the terminal too fast and having to redo it.

Pancake plate and cutlery in hand, your eyes were attracted to something white on the ass of Cheslock's shorts. You frowned, what is that?

"Muffins."

Cheslock had "Muffins" written backwards on his ass in chalk. You struggled to choke down a laugh, turning it into a clearing of your throat.

Once the customer had carried their order off, you started laughing. Tears welled up in your eyes and you bent over with a hand braced on the counter.

"Muffins."

You thought that was an apt way to describe Cheslock's ass, yes. "Muffins."

Cheslock, on the other hand, stood there looking like a Sim waiting for their next task.

'What?'

You wheezed. 'Chalk-'

Cheslock quirked his eyebrow. 'Chalk?'

'You- pffft you must have leaned on the chalkboard!' You forced yourself to take a deep breath, only to start laughing again. In a rediculously high pitched voice you said: 'There's "Muffins" on your ass, Ches!'

The idiot then decided to spin on himself, trying to get a clear look of his ass. You doubled over, a hand smacking the counter next to you as you watched him do a couple circles before giving up and pouting.

'I can't see...' He complained, half a grin already pulling at his lips. 'Take a photo, will you?'

You grabbed your phone, focused the lense on the mirrored word by tapping on Cheslock's ass through the screen — this made you snort another laugh — and took the picture. He stepped in close to you, the front of his shoulder brushing the back of yours to look at it. He stared at the photo of the bright white "Muffins" centered perfectly over his ass, the only way it could have been better was if it hadn't been mirrored. It was his turn to double over.

'How long have I been walking around like that?' He struggled through peals of boyish laughter.

'I don't know... But it's an accurate description.' You answered, smacking his back a few times for effect.

He laughed harder still. 'You're not wrong...'

Cheslock dusted at the letters. He managed to pat away most of the chalk but missed a few spots.

'Is it gone?'

It wasn't, the outline of the "M" remained as well as one of the "f"s and the "s". You shook your head.

'Get it for me?' He prompted, bracing his hands on the counter, leaning over and looking back at you like he was asking for something a little more risqué.

The image made you blush. You patted the chalk off his jeans none the less.