#Portable coffee mug

[zhongjiauto]

The Stanley Cup Travel Mug is more than just a drinkware accessory; it is the ultimate companion for those on the go. Designed with durability, style, and practicality in mind, this stainless steel travel mug combines modern convenience with timeless craftsmanship. Whether you're commuting, hiking, or simply enjoying your favorite beverage, the Stanley Cup Travel Mug keeps your drinks at the perfect temperature while offering unmatched reliability.

Durable Stainless Steel Design

Crafted from high-quality stainless steel, the Stanley Cup Travel Mug is built to last. Its rugged construction ensures it can withstand the rigors of daily use, making it ideal for outdoor adventures, workdays, or travel. The stainless steel material is resistant to rust, scratches, and wear, ensuring your mug looks great and performs perfectly for years to come.

Keeps Your Drinks Hot or Cold

The Stanley Cup Travel Mug features advanced insulation technology that keeps beverages hot for up to 8 hours and cold for up to 12 hours. Whether you prefer piping hot coffee on a winter morning or refreshing iced tea on a summer afternoon, this mug has you covered. The double-wall vacuum insulation prevents temperature transfer, ensuring your drink stays just the way you like it.

Leak-Proof and Spill-Resistant

Say goodbye to messy spills and leaks! The Stanley Cup Travel Mug comes with a secure, leak-proof lid that ensures your drink stays contained no matter where you go. Its easy-to-use design allows for effortless sipping while keeping your bag, car, or workspace clean and dry.

Ergonomic and Travel-Friendly

Designed with convenience in mind, the Stanley Cup Travel Mug features an ergonomic handle and a compact design that fits most car cup holders. The sturdy handle provides a comfortable grip, while the lightweight design makes it easy to carry wherever life takes you. Perfect for busy professionals, travelers, and outdoor enthusiasts alike.

Eco-Friendly and Reusable

In a world focused on sustainability, the Stanley Cup Travel Mug offers an eco-friendly alternative to disposable cups. By choosing a reusable stainless steel mug, you reduce waste and contribute to a cleaner planet. It's the perfect choice for environmentally conscious individuals who value both style and function.

A Timeless Companion

The Stanley Cup Travel Mug is not just a utility; it is a statement of quality and dependability. Whether you're sipping coffee on your daily commute, enjoying a warm beverage by the campfire, or staying hydrated during a long hike, this travel mug is designed to be your trusted companion.

Why Choose the Stanley Cup Travel Mug?

Durability: Made with premium stainless steel for long-lasting performance.

Temperature Control: Keeps drinks hot for up to 8 hours and cold for up to 12 hours.

Leak-Proof Design: Say goodbye to spills and leaks with a secure, tight-sealing lid.

Eco-Friendly: Reduce waste with a reusable, sustainable alternative to disposable cups.

Portable and Stylish: Compact, lightweight, and designed to fit your lifestyle.

Conclusion: Elevate Your Daily Routine

The Stanley Cup Travel Mug is the perfect blend of style, durability, and functionality. Whether you're heading to the office, exploring the great outdoors, or relaxing at home, this travel mug delivers exceptional performance and timeless appeal. Make every sip count with the Stanley Cup Travel Mug—your ultimate travel companion.

Tags: Stanley Cup Travel Mug, Stainless Steel Mug, Insulated Travel Mug, Leak-Proof Mug, Hot and Cold Drinkware, Reusable Mug, Eco-Friendly Travel Mug, Durable Drinkware, Portable Coffee Mug, Travel Essentials

[aboelkhair]

Birds' Smile on an Insulated Coffee Mug, 10oz

Enjoy your coffee with this charming insulated mug featuring a cute illustration of smiling birds, adding a touch of warmth and happiness to your morning. Whether you're sipping your favorite coffee or another hot beverage, this 10oz insulated mug keeps your drink warm for longer, making it the perfect companion for quiet moments or while you're on the go. The adorable design will bring a smile to your face every time you hold this unique mug. To place your order, click here

[tum657]

[giftideasunwrapped]

MEZMUT 12 Oz Insulated Wine Tumbler: Elegant Stainless Steel Drinkware for Wine, Coffee, and More

[jmmadi]

Life is short, live it with passion

Enjoy your favorite drink with this unique tumbler featuring a beautiful design of a cute cat next to an inspirational phrase. This tumbler is perfect for cat lovers and fans of watercolor art, combining elegance and functionality. Made from high-quality materials to keep your drink hot or cold for longer. Its attractive design with the cat and phrase makes it a standout piece of art you can take any here

Shop now and enjoy a unique design! Click here

[adeshop]

Stanley Quencher H2.0 Flow State Stainless Steel Vacuum Insulated Tumbler with Lid and Straw for Water, Iced Tea or Coffee, Smoothie and More

[h0neylevi]

“Shit shit shit shit shit—“

The sound of your hurried footsteps follow the string of curses as they travel like an echo down the hall, but Levi doesn’t so much as look up from the kitchen sink.

He had tried to get you up earlier, tempting you with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and a hot breakfast, but you insisted on five more minutes. Then inevitably, five more turned into ten which turned into fifteen, and now you’re rushing to get ready and out the door on time for work.

Now he’s had to improvise–turning your breakfast into something portable you can eat on the drive. It’s a skill he’s had to perfect over the years of living with you. To say that time management wasn’t your strong suit would be an understatement. So, Levi moves on to packing your lunch, listening with a small grin at the sound of the tap of your toothbrush against the bathroom sink, followed by clothes hangers being slid back and forth in the closet as you rush to find something suitable to wear to work.

“Have you seen my black turtleneck?”

“In the dryer.”

He schools his expression into something more mild when you finally round the corner a few minutes later, knowing that you’re already stressed about being late. Smiling at you in an I told you so kind of way would only sour your mood further.

“I slept right through my alarm,” you say.

All five of them, plus his gentle prodding to get you out of bed. He doubts you were even conscious enough to remember him trying.

Your eyes flit to the coffee pot to find a travel mug already filled and waiting for you, right next to a neatly assembled wrap that you can only guess is your breakfast. Your expression visibly softens at the sweet gesture.

“Your lunch is packed too,” Levi says, motioning to the insulated lunch bag sitting on the opposite counter.

Even though you’re pressed for time, you step forward to embrace him.

“Thank you, Levi,” you say into his shirt. “You’re a lifesaver.”

His arms wrap easily around you, but there’s lighthearted reproach in his words when he says, “You say that like I don’t have to do this every other day.”

“Well, if you hadn’t kept me up so late last night, I wouldn’t be rushing.”

He shoves you away then, not forceful enough to indicate you’ve said anything to upset him, but you can tell that the mention of the night before has provoked him by the subtle shade of pink that spreads across his cheeks.

He clicks his tongue. “Pervert.”

You lean back a little, still lightly clinging to his waist with a grin. “You’re weren’t saying that last night when my lips were wrapped around your—“

Levi’s palm claps over your mouth before you can finish your sentence, but it does very little to muffle the sound of your laughter that follows.

He leans into you a little, his other hand anchored to your waist to keep you close. “You’re going to be late.”

Deciding he’s endured enough for one morning, you pull away and go to gather your breakfast. “Yeah, yeah.”

You carry it into the next room and Levi quietly follows, your lunch bag in one hand and travel mug in the other.

“I’ll stop by the store tonight,” you say as you gather your coat by the door. “I saw this really good recipe last night that I’d like to try for dinner.”

Levi simply nods. Dinners are usually your preferred meal to cook, so he’s not surprised you already have something planned. “Sure.”

When you get your coat on, he hands you your things, then finishes off with a quick kiss.

After years spent co-existing together in your apartment—sharing everything from body wash to toothpaste and clothes—you would think that having his lips on yours wouldn’t still elicit such a strong feeling, but it does. It’s a wild and frenzied sensation, forming in the pit of your stomach before it swoops like a flurry up into your ribcage.

You linger by the door, starting to regret not getting up earlier so you could see him a little longer. “Thank you for getting my things ready.”

Levi nods again. “You’re welcome.”

When he leans against the doorframe, you take the moment to press another kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

A mixture of minty toothpaste and the familiar scent of your perfume swirls in the few inches between your bodies, and Levi has to take considerable effort to not lean in again.

“You’re going to be late,” he reminds you for what feels like the nth time.

But despite that, your feet stay planted in the doorway. “Say it back and I’ll go.”

“I love you too.” He rolls his eyes, but relents just the slightest bit and kisses you again. “Now, go.”

[angelicgirlmj]

100+ angelic christmas gift ideas

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!

uggs

victoria secret pjs

cozy fluffy socks

laneige lip balm

lush body lotions

rose quartz gua sha

glossier makeup

dior lip oil

sonny angels

yoga mat

silk pillowcases

litre water bottle

candles

jelly cats

cute claw clips

ear warmers

books

cute planner

posters or tapestries

camera

philosophy body washes

makeup bag

sylvanian baby blind bags

slippers

matcha

records or cds

five minute journal

desk or wall calendar

eye mask and bonnet

fluffy blankets

large candles

benetint lip tint

rare beauty products

cuticle oil and glass nail file

gold jewellery

silver jewellery

knee high boots

colourful/printed tights

pocket mirror

mugs

house plants

hair band or cute hair clips

gisou hair products

highlighters

charlotte tilbury makeup

pretty nail polishes

salt lamp or other lamp

tea bags (chai, green etc)

wallet or purse

bag charms

dyson hair wrap

your fave chocolates

makeup bag

quilt

vintage room decor

fluffy/patterned rug

new phonecase

slippers

headphones

rings

belt

portable speaker

crystals

fuzzy scarf and gloves

patterned tote bag

dried flowers

fairy lights

jewellery box or trinket dish

photo album

bath oils

incense

locket

bows or pretty scrunchies

sunglasses

mini crates or storage boxes

lululemon clothes

new bedsheets

laptop case

cute pillows

hair curlers

alarm clock

vintage/thrifted clothes

picture frames

snowglobes

miniature trinkets

personalised charm bracelet

makeup brushes

diffuser

face masks

lego

coffee table books

skims

tea infuser

reusable straw

warm jacket

sports bag

keyrings

jumpers

heels

charity donation

thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.

love, m.

p.s it’s never too early for christmas!

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[callooopie]

School’s in session || HOTD men

“Then I see you, you’re walking ‘cross the campus. Cruel professor, studying romances.” — Campus // Vampire Weekend

packing’s tuff asffff. I’m glad for a break in the middle of it all. This is very short. And I hope it satisfies the pookies enough in the calloopie drought. But once again, I return to the trenches of packing for college 🫡🫡🙂‍↕️✌️

Davos Blackwood // Computer science

As we’ve established once, Davos rooms with Aeron. No one knows why, or understands even. They both hate each other (so they say).

Once you see him walk into his computer lab, just know that you’re not seeing him ever again until the late hour of the night. He goes in with two—three energy drinks, comes out with four empty cans… not sure how that happened. Davos isn’t sure where the extra can came from. Magic. Pure college magic.

He’s a very smart and capable student. He’s just.. lazy. The type to put assignments and projects off until the day of the deadline. And then he’ll lock in for the whole day and not text you or anyone until midnight when he turns it in just barely on time. He says he lives for the thrill, the adrenaline of bordering the due date.

Rides a skateboard to class, around the campus, everywhere. If he sees you he does a trick in front of you before riding off. Only for you though. Sometimes he fails, and it’s bad for him but funny for you (and everyone else who sees it happen). It’s like once I saw someone fall into the fountain on campus. Yeah—that’s what happened to Davos. A trail of water leading toward the science building, and a very unhappy Davos sitting through a lecture with his pants soaked.

Enjoys sleeping on the grass if it’s nice enough. A backpack for a pillow (or your thighs). You could be sleeping beside him, letting his head rest in your lap, or simply just doing homework or coursework as you both enjoy the afternoon. Whatever you have going on, Davos is just happy to be beside you.

The type to cut it really close to class time if he’s getting food. Nothing gets in the way of his food, not even the start of a class or lab. He’ll be in line and you’ll spot him out and be confused, looking down at your phone as you talk about how you thought he had a lab. And Davos would happily respond and say, yes, he does indeed have that lab. But fries are calling his name. And who is he to deny such salty callings?

Jacaerys Velaryon // Political Science

Attentive, in every one of his classes. Sometimes his posture is upright, other times he’s leaning back. But he never dozed off or loses interest. The only sign of his boredom would be seeing him twiddle around a pencil or pen between his fingers, both ends tapping lightly against the desk or notebook in front of him.

Bounces his leg too. Not out of anxiety or anything, but once again just an outlet for his boredom or restlessness. It gets worse when the clock shows it’s nearing the end of class.

Sometimes he’ll get so engrossed in whatever’s being taught, you’ll have to poke him once or twice to get his attention. He’ll snap his head toward you before returning his attention to the front of the class, but he’s listening to you now at least. A hand resting against his chin as you talk into his ear or show him something on your laptop or phone.

Coffee girl. You never see him without a coffee. Iced, hot. Starbucks, homemade. Whatever it is, it’s on his desk. Definitely not a Stanley cup guy. Jace likes something small, simple. Nothing that stands out or is overly complicated and fancy. It’s probably a portable mug he stole from his mother, or has just had for a very long time.

Always put together. Even a lazy fit on him looks chic. You ask him one day, how does he do it? Even wearing just sweats and a t-shirt; he somehow always looks so.. good. Jace chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he adjusts his cap. Oh it’s a bit of this and that, confidence and coolness. How you hold yourself. But also really.. it’s all in the accessories; he tells you.

Cregan Stark // Environmental Science

A literal ghost on campus. You never see him—you don’t know how he does it. You could go the entire day without seeing Cregan and then randomly think about him and not a moment later he’s right in front of you. And yes, he likes seeing how you light up in surprise. How you say his name every time he suddenly appears beside you. Never gets old.

Big salad and study guy. Or just snacking and studying in general. In the library, in a study room, somewhere on campus, no matter what; Cregan’s got something in front of him as he reads over an article.

Reads the news while he walks to class. Usually he doesn’t like staring at his phone so aimlessly. But for the latest news updates, he will do it. He lets out little hums or groans depending on what’s happening in the world. Only once have you seen him shake his head at something. A scoff and an eye roll were rare as well.

Does not adhere to sidewalk paths. If there’s a quicker route to the building where his class is being held—he will take it. Even if it’s through the woods; he will take it. Efficiency is the name of the game here, and he’d rather be early than late.

He does not pay attention when he walks also. So if you’re trying to get his attention, you will have to grab his arm and put yourself in his field of vision. He’s a fast walker too. He’s got places to be after all, he can’t just slow down to make conversation when he’s got a busy schedule and things to do. But he will.. slow down a bit. And make time for you, in his busy life.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Not that they would need to (except Angeal), but how do Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Zack handle Black Friday shopping?

Angeal: Treats it like a competitive sport. Arrives with a precise list, coupons, and a store map marked with tactical positions. He starts off polite and methodical until he spots the home goods section. The moment someone reaches for the last set of premium cotton towels, his honor code evaporates. "Those are 800 thread count, and they're MINE." He's seen bodyslaming people into shelf displays over discount coffee mugs.

Zack: Returns to HQ at 4 AM clutching a shiny new Play Station, covered in blood and sporting a black eye but grinning maniacally.

Lazard: Who's blood is that?? Zack: I GOT THE NEW PLAYSTATION! Lazard: WHO'S BLOOD IS THAT?? Zack: 70% OFF!!

Genesis: Sneers at Black Friday as "peasant behavior" until his favorite rare bookstore announces their sale. He's caught camping outside 48 hours early in a luxury tent, complete with a wine cooler and portable reading lamp. He yells at people. He insults people. He bites people. And then he leaves with three copies of books he already owns "because the binding is slightly different."

Sephiroth: Strolls in at peak hours, and the crowd parts like the sea. He casually picks up whatever he wants while people stare in awe. Later, he keeps showing Angeal his receipts and bragging about the steals. Angeal considers violence.

Sephiroth: 80% off this coffee maker. Angeal: *eye twitching* Sephiroth: They also gave me an additional discount. And this free gift card. Angeal, who fought three people for his coffee maker: That's... that's not how Black Friday works. Sephiroth: They gave me an air-fryer for free. Angeal: FUCK YOU

[chromatophorium]

I finished making new gear for a hypothetical Agent 4 storymode!

(Text on the back of the hypothetical box): As the head of security of Project Memverse, Agent 4 has been tasked to track down the Octolings still on the loose in the Deepsea Metro! Together with a recently reformed C.Q. Cumber, they will have to explore behind the scenes of Kamabo Co. to find and secure the victims of sanitization!

Using the Caught Shot, Agent 4 will have to subdue the Octolings that are still under Tartar's hostile programing! After that, they will have to transport their quarry to the goal using Containment Tank! Said goal is the Memverse entry room, housed in a modified train car. The SeaCURE.ity gear set will help them stand up against the immense pressure; both of the responsibility on their shoulders and the offensive launched against them by what remains of Kamabo Co! And of course the literal pressure, as they travel deeper and deeper into unknown waters...

(design notes under the cut)

C.Q. Cumber: The last two story modes have had a companion I thought it would be cool to use C.Q. Cumber! (Did you know it’s not just one individual?) C.Q. is one of the only characters with dialogue not to return in Splatoon 3, and he looks throwable! So, l would maybe make him be a portable bounce-pad, who returns to you when you jump on him. You could also make him the thing used for Broken-Armor Jump, if that’s a mechanic you’d want to return. He is wearing the hat from a plush zapfish!

Containment Tank: Based on a coffee machine, since the Spawners in Splatoon 3 are based on expresso machines! The jug that contains the octoling “ghost” is also based on a snow globe, since Octavio was contained by one in Splatoon 1 and 2!

Caught Shot: Based on a retro coffee grinder, to fit in with the tank’s theme! (Like the Splatoon 3 Hero Shot was based on a 3D printer (the fully upgraded one has a filament reel) and there were 3D printed monuments in Alterna.) The name is a play on their task, catching octolings, and hotshot, since Agent 4 is rumored to be the strongest in the squidbreak splatoon, and it's apparently also the name of an alcoholic coffee drink (I don't drink coffee or alchohol, so I didn't know that). Also following the naming convention of single-player shooters; Hero Shot, Octo Shot and Order Shot.

Earmuggs: Did you know the handles of mugs are called ears? Now you do! I included a cup-handle motif by the ears, and the springy thing is inspired by the edge of coffee presses.

Baristanorak: This is based of a coffee barista look, with an apron! The reflectors on the green part is meant to mimic the straps. I also kept the collar the same as Agent 4's canon outfit, since I think it's a big part of why I like their design. The wrist sweatbands are there to tie into the texture of the socks, and cuz I thought It gives the outfit a more recognizable silhouette.

Step-it-cups: They're actually just Luminous Delta Straps with the branding removed, don't tell anyone! Well, I guess it is keeping in tradition, since Agent 4's canon jacket is super similar to the Olive Ski Jacket, which was present in Splat 1 (and my favorite gear in that game).

[aboelkhair]

Insulated Coffee Mug, 10oz

A 10oz insulated coffee mug with a modern design that keeps hot beverages warm for longer and prevents heat from escaping. Perfect for everyday use, whether in the office or on the go, ensuring your coffee stays warm and delicious. With its double insulation, you'll enjoy an excellent coffee experience anytime, anywhere. This product is waiting for you! Click here to buy it now.

[tum657]

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VII ║Fleabitten

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 6: Mustang | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You and Jack spend your last night together in the mountains - for now.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, handjob, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: I know I made you guys wait for this one, I'm sorry it took so long! It's no secret that I'm dragging my feet because I don't want this packtrip to be over, but we all have to brave and face the inevitable 🥺 I hope you enjoy spending the last night in the mountains with Jack and his Darlin' ❤️

Fleabitten: A colour consisting of a white hair coat with small pigmented speckles or freckles.

You’ve never considered yourself a creature of habit. 

You have your routines, of course. But habit is more. It’s a dependency, emotional and physical. It’s something that’s hard to give up. It’s a prickle under the skin that is only soothed when said habit is fulfilled.

Surely, habit is hewn over time. A quiet, imperceptible chipping away at your bones until it becomes part of you. It must take more than a week to make a habit out of something. 

Except, it feels a lot like habit when you wake up to pink skies and take your first breath of sweet mountain air to start the day. That first mug of coffee warmed over rekindled embers from the night before. How Scotch always prances into a little canter to warm up when you hop on, but not until he knows you’re fully sat with the tips of your toes through the stirrups irons.

It’s the way you angle the brim of your hat and flip up the collar of your shirt even before the sun hits just so. It’s the all-consuming awe that pins you to the spot, wherever you are, whatever you’re in the middle of, when the sunset paints every inch of earth in rose gold.

And for the past three nights, it’s the assuring weight of strong arms around your waist that has lulled you to sleep, the kiss of warm breath on your temple - a familiarity that runs too deep in too short a time for you to comprehend.

Habit.

It’s the sixth day of the pack trip - first thing tomorrow, just after breakfast, Jack will be leading you across the mountain, back the way you came, to get back to the ranch by mid-afternoon.

Words are scarce when the two of you approach the last Statesman campsite on the trail, the neat stone pit now a familiar sight.

Even the horses are subdued. Scotch stands obediently, flicking his tail while you untack him, when he would usually be nudging at your hands with his velvety nose, snickering for a cheeky apple slice before supper.

It’s second nature to you now, hanging the sweaty saddle pad on a low-hanging branch to dry before setting the saddle and bridle on the wooden post for cleaning. Jack follows, standing on the other side, handing you a wet rag. You get to work, scrubbing out the grime and sweat from the well-worn leather.

His eyes are on you, a phantom weight on your shoulders - they’re not exactly sore, having grown used to long hours in the saddle over the week, but you are tired, albeit the good kind. One that a good, long soak in a hot bubble bath would fix, with a certain cowboy in the same tub -

‘Whatcha smilin’ ‘bout, Darlin’?’

Glancing up, you match his arched eyebrow with one of yours, planting your elbows on the spine of the saddle and standing onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his. Well, a portable shower ain’t the same, but -

‘Shall we clean up, cowboy?’

Jack groans deep into your neck, the taste of soap thick on his tongue.

‘Is this how you jerked off thinking about me that first day?’ you tease, your grip sliding slickly along his cock.

‘Oh fuck,’ he pants, brow scrunched up in pleasure-pain, scraping his teeth on your collar bone. ‘Didn’t feel half as good, darlin’.’

A moan slips from you when one large palm finds your backside and squeezes, his fingers digging into the plump flesh as he whimpers by your ear. Bowing his head, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking on your sensitive skin until you arch into his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to come all over your hand - sticky, milky strands slipping thickly down the gaps of your fingers, stringing between them like spider webs. You’re reluctant to let go, humming soothingly into his ear as the last of his orgasm shudders through his body.

He holds you tight, his heart a sharp staccato against your chest, as the slow trickle of lukewarm water washes away all traces of him.

Once the portable shower is empty, you take your time getting dressed. Jack wipes you down with your towel while you rub his hair dry with his. Walking back to camp hand in hand, you grin when the horses come into sight, chasing and egging each other on like puppies at the dog park.

Thousand-pound puppies, more like. 

Dropping the dirty laundry by a tree to be packed later, he whistles with his fingers. ‘C’mon boys, supper time!’

The trio line up smartly by the wooden post as Jack preps the feed, measuring out the grain and hay pellets by sight, filling their buckets. Their nostrils flare and ears prick up at the sight of their dinner, but other than a stray nicker or two, they remain impressively patient.

Their buckets are dropped in front of their hooves when he’s done, and you may be imagining the sharp intake of air as the horses await the okay from their cowboy.

At his nod, all three practically lunge at their supper, munching happily. You laugh, and Jack watches on proudly.

A quiet desperation slinks in when you’re not looking, winding tighter and tighter around your ribs like a vice that leaves you short of breath as the minutes and hours slip by. You’re restless, your legs bouncing in agitation, your eyes darting about, frantically trying to commit everything to memory, yet never lingering anywhere long enough to do so.

But it’s not really about the things you can see. It’s the bitter bite of smoke in the clean mountain air. It’s the orange heat of the campfire that you wear like a favourite cardigan. It’s the simplicity of getting from point A to point B, with nothing but grassland and forest in between.

But real life isn’t simple. Things that you vowed to push to the back of your mind at the beginning of the trip bubble to the surface for an unwelcome moment. You have bills to pay. You have a deadweight of a house to sell. You have an ex not pulling his weight -

‘Darlin’?’

The white noise that you weren’t even aware had filled your ears subsides, and your gaze snaps up to Jack, blinking. The weight of the knife in your hand comes back to you, and you glance down at the bell pepper you were in the middle of dicing up.

You give him a shaky smile and carry on with your errand. ‘Sorry.’

He brushes a thumb on your cheek. ‘You were thinkin’ mighty loud.’

Not wanting to dampen your last night together, you shake your head and lean over to kiss him. You huff, ‘Just hungry. Get cooking, cowboy.’

Jack knows you’re fibbing, but he says no more. He can admit to himself that you’re not the only one struggling with loud thoughts tonight.

You’re right, he should turn his focus to making dinner instead - chili and cornbread, classic southern comfort food. Lord knows the both of you can do with some comfort tonight.

‘Want to help me with the cornbread?’ he asks, knowing you’d want to keep your hands busy.

‘Damn, I sure miss the days when you insisted that I shouldn’t help with anything at all,’ you tease, which makes him chuckle.

‘C’mere, darlin’.’

He’d measured out the dry ingredients for the cornbread back at the Halfway House and tipped it all into a mason jar - flour, cornmeal and raising agents. You whisk the batter with a fork as he cracks in three eggs and pours in the milk (he usually uses buttermilk, but it has to be shelf stable milk on the trail) until it’s smooth and thin. You carefully pour the mixture into a well-oiled cast iron skillet, which he then nestles in the heart of the fire. The batter bubbles like slow-burning lava as it cooks, the savoury sweetness filling the evening air.

‘That’ll cook in a half hour, so we should start on the chili,’ he says. ‘I normally simmer it for at least an hour, but I think we’re both hungry, right?’

‘I’m fine with express chili, cowboy.’

Jack sets a deep-set saucepan on the pit, drizzling in olive oil to preheat it. He knows the recipe by heart, but with no fresh beef mince on hand, he has his usual substitutions when cooking it on the trail. Into the pan goes finely diced cured sausage, onion, red bell peppers, peeled carrot ribbons and celery.

‘Is that Poppy’s recipe?’ you ask, tummy rumbling at the vivid scents as the pan sizzles.

‘It’s my mama’s, actually,’ he smiles, stirring with a wooden spoon. ‘It’s the one recipe Poppy allows on the trail that is not hers.’

‘If that isn’t a stamp of approval, I don’t know what is,’ you chuckle. ‘And where’s your mama?’

‘Still lives with my old man back home in Kentucky,’ he answers, scraping in minced garlic, a good squeeze of tomato paste and one big can of plum tomatoes, which he crushes one by one with the back of the spoon.

‘What do they do?’ you ask, genuinely curious. His family hasn’t come up in conversation in the past few days.

Jack is happy to indulge you. ‘Pop used to run a little corner shop in town, but he’s retired now. My ma’s an equine veterinarian, used to have a practice, but she shut that down a few years ago and is mostly a lady of leisure nowadays.’

You nudge his shoulder with yours. ‘Horses run in the family, I see.’

‘Never stood a chance,’ he jokes. ‘She still helps out on my uncle’s farm if they need an extra pair of hands. My cousins mostly run the place nowadays.’

The saucepan sputters at the generous pouring of barbeque sauce (homemade of course, Poppy’s secret recipe) that goes in next, followed by a can of beer, a beef stock cube (crumbled), Worcestershire sauce, balsamic vinegar and honey.

‘Are your parents from the same town?’

‘No, ma’s from the city, moved to the backwaters to marry my country bumpkin daddy,’ he replies, flashing you a meaningful smile. 

Your cheeks heat up unbidden, and you bite your bottom lip, the shyness that rears its head  feeling very alien after being so comfortable around this cowboy for these few days. You meet his eyes though, cocking your head to one side. ‘Is that so?’

He grins, stirring the chili as he continues. ‘My papaw Henry nearly disowned her, didn’t even go to the weddin’, but he came round when I was born. Turned out he got on with my other grandpa Noah like a house on fire. They used to come and spend a week in the mountains with Champ and I every year before Henry passed.’

You reach out and squeeze his free hand. ‘And where is Noah now?’

‘He lives in a little cabin off the main house with my uncle. Can barely walk, but he still rides every morning,’ he shakes his head fondly, tipping in the drained kidney and black beans.

He’s quiet for a moment as he studies the chili, simmering away, then gives you a sidelong glance. Despite a deliberate attempt to keep his tone light, the weight of his words cannot be erased by simple inflection. ‘I’m sure they’d love to meet you, darlin’.’

But as soon as he hears himself - the absurd wishful thinking in it - he shifts in his seat awkwardly, clearing his throat. You fuckin’ clown. How is this appropriate conversation when he’s known you for six days? Hell, you’d only just started sleeping together what, three nights ago? Fuck, has it only been three - ?

Two gentle fingers hook under his chin, turning his face towards you, cutting off the jumble of voices in his head. You shuffle closer so that you’re pressed right up against his side, warm and soft, and when you kiss him slowly and sweetly, it tastes like reassurance. 

‘I’d love that too, cowboy.’

The chili is the best you’ve ever had - smoky, spicy and balanced out with a touch of sweetness from the barbeque sauce. The cornbread fresh from the skillet is so moreish, there’s nothing but crumbs left in the skillet when the two of you are done.

You’re close to bursting, sprawled lazily on your sleeping bag, your back propped up against a log. The fire has died down to a low-burning flame, and you’re right on the brink of nodding off. 

But as it turns out, Jack still has a trick or two up his sleeves. 

He reaches over you to grab one of the saddlebags, rifling around and you laugh as he unveils, one after the other - a bag of jumbo marshmallows, Graham crackers, and a bar of dark chocolate. 

‘Can’t say I pegged you for a s’mores kinda cowboy,’ you tease as he lays out the ingredients on the ground. 

‘It’s a Statesman tradition, we always close out a pack trip with s’mores. C’mon, I’ll show you how to make a proper one.’

You huff a laugh. ‘Oh, are we really going there?’

He feigns ignorance. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am?’

‘The shortest way to an argument is anything to do with s’mores.’

‘Don’t worry darlin’, I’m sure we’ll kiss and make up.’

Jack gets up and steps briefly out of the orange halo of the campfire to rustle up a couple of sticks for the marshmallows. Knees creaking as he sits down next to you, he pulls out the knife from the holster he wears on the back of his jeans, sharpening the wooden ends with a telling familiarity.

The chocolate bar is wrapped in fancy, gilded packaging, the words organic and bean to bar glowing gold in the firelight as you turn it over in your hands. ‘Huh. No Hershey’s?’

The cowboy waggles one perfectly pointed end of a stick at you in warning. ‘Rule number one - do not mention the H word in front of Poppy. You will be evicted and barred from the state of Wyoming till kingdom come.’

‘Oh, I believe you,’ you chuckle, tearing into the packaging and breaking up the chocolate into tidy squares along the grooves.

Sheathing his knife, Jack reaches for the saddle bag once again. ‘Can’t forget the secret ingredient.’

You blink in incredulity at what he brandishes, the familiar whiff registering. ‘Is that - applewood?’

He winks, testing the weight of the logs in his hands. ‘The applewood infuses the marshmallows with a sweet smokiness - I’m tellin’ you, the Statesman s’mores is somethin’ else.’

With a shake of your head, you grin. ‘Alright cowboy, show me how to make some proper s’mores.’

Twenty minutes later, you wish you could take it back.

‘Scientific’ doesn’t even begin to describe Jack’s process. You’re huddled in a blanket, hugging your knees, watching as he turns over the marshmallows with methodological precision and infinite patience - neither of which you possess. He’d confiscated yours when you tried to stick them straight into the flames, declaring that you’re unfit to make your own s’mores.

The night air is singed with the delicate note of apple blossoms, while four chocolate squares slowly warm on graham crackers where they sit on stones around the campfire. 

You sit poutily, glaring at the fluffy white blobs that look just as pale as they were straight out of the bag.

‘I could’ve made about three s’mores by now,’ you gripe.

Jack doesn’t look up from the fire, but the corner of his mouth curls in amusement. ‘You’re on holiday, remember? Relax. Patience is a virtue, darlin’.’

You tilt your head in a challenge. ‘Do you really think I give a damn about virtue, cowboy?’

His grin turns brash, eyes crinkling mischievously at the corners. ‘No, ma’am, and I thank my lucky stars that you don’t.’

‘C’mon Jack,’ you whine. ‘Let's just eat the stupid s’mores and go to bed.’

‘Good things take time,’ he says simply. And then, with the minutest flex of his tone, he changes tact. ‘Will you be a good girl for me and be patient?’

You watch his smile widen as he obviously hears your breath hitch.

Biting your lip, you goad him, ‘Oh, is that how you’re going to play it, sir?

The gentleman in him recedes, and the rake glimpses through in the way he eyes you with a deliberately smarmy want. ‘I don’t hear you complainin’ when I take my time with you, darlin’.’

Your mouth hangs open in affront. ‘Are you seriously comparing me to roasted marshmallows?’

He leans over and purrs into your ear. ‘Well, your pussy is just as sweet, and soft, and warm -’

You groan and push him hard on the shoulder. ‘Thanks ruining marshmallows for me, cowboy!’

With a laugh, Jack nods towards the fire. ‘Grab the graham crackers please, darlin’. They're done.’

Sure enough, while you were distracted, the fluffy white blobs are finished with a perfect, golden crust, but have enough structural integrity to hold shape on the ends of the sticks.

‘You ready?’ he prompts.

A graham cracker in each hand, one with chocolate and the other without, you admit, ‘I hate this part, I always make such a mess.’

He smirks, ‘Didn’t think you minded makin’ a mess, darlin’.’

You roll your eyes at him, with no real annoyance. ‘You’re insufferable, cowboy.’

Cushioining one marshmallow on the chocolate side of the cracker, he instructs, ‘Now put the other one on top and grip the whole stack firmly. Got it?’

At your nod, Jack carefully extracts the stick, wriggling as he goes, one thumb against the end to keep the marshmallow from sliding out.

With a dramatic flourish, he ta-das. ‘There you go, a Statesman s’mores for my cowgirl.’

Something in your brain short-circuits at him calling you his cowgirl. 

Not just his. 

But the cowgirl to his cowboy.

Unable to conjure up any words, you fixate on the melted marshmallow on his thumb. Grabbing his hand and bringing it to your face, you wrap your lips around it, sucking the sweet smear of residue right off his smoke-tipped finger.

His gaze is dark even as the red and yellow flickers in his eyes when he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, his voice a soft rasp. 

‘Good girl.’

‘So - what happens tomorrow?’

Your question is quiet, half murmured into the hollow of his neck in the twilight zone, on the cusp of sleep. Your head is tucked under his chin, his arms around your waist under the blanket.

‘We’ll get back to the ranch around three. The team will get the horses settled in, unpack everything, and you can have a nice hot shower. Then we’ll have sunset drinks and dinner.’

You hum noncommittally. The silence cackles for a beat, before you venture, ‘And then?’

For once, Jack doesn’t have an answer.

He doesn’t sleep that night. 

He holds you close, running a calloused palm against your back when you shift restlessly in your sleep, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his own.

The sun rises pink and gentle. This camping spot was a deliberate choice - it hangs over a small slope, facing east with an open view of the plains below, where the horses are dozing, the Bighorn rising from the horizon straight ahead. 

He must have drifted off without him noticing, because he wakes up to your lips on his.

He blinks, lids heavy with slumber. ‘Mornin’.’

You smile through hooded eyes, cording your fingers through his hair. ‘Morning, cowboy. It’s a pretty sunrise for our last day in the mountains.’

‘Who says it’s our last, darlin’?’

His challenge lingers between you, the tension sinking its hooks into his skin and pulling - until you close the gap and kiss him. 

It’s sloppy, clumsy, teeth clunking against teeth - it’s too damn early - and he pushes you back to nip and suck his way down your neck, undoing the top three buttons on his flannel that you’ve taken to wearing to bed before pushing it over your head.

‘Jack,’ you whine as his hands push your tits together, smearing open-mouthed kisses all over them.

‘Fuck,’ he grunts, the harsh sound catching in his throat. Grinding his cock between your thighs, his big hands push your panties down in a hazy frenzy, followed by his sweats, which he kicks off blindly.

‘Please,’ you choke out, voice breaking as your soft, naked body arches into him.

He hushes you, breath hot and heavy in your ear, teasing his length slickly between the wet lips of your pussy. ‘Yeah? Desperate for this cock, are you, darlin’?’

Through a broken moan, you whimper, ‘Yes, please please please, Jack -’

‘So pretty beggin’ for me,’ he grins, but he knows it probably looks more like a pained grimace as he trembles above you. You're soaking the curls at the bottom of his cock even though he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

‘Please, want you inside me, cowboy -’

He holds out, letting the arousal swell and mount between you with a recklessness that is unlike him, demanding, ‘How, darlin’?’

‘Hard, want you to fuck me hard -’

Rolling you onto your side so that he brackets you from behind, he opens you up with one hand under your right knee, pushing it against your front so that he can see your dripping cunt. Running his thumb over it, you jerk in his hold, moaning for him. ‘Jack, please -’

‘What did I say about patience bein’ a virtue, hmm?’ he teases through gritted teeth, dipping one finger shallowly into you, which is enough to make you keen.

You’re babbling incoherently as he lines himself up against your entrance. ‘Fuck me, please, need you inside me -’

You break off into a strangled sob when he pushes the blunt tip of his cock into you, a hoarse groan in his windpipe as he feels you stretch around him. It feels different, more intense, but his sleep-clouded brain can’t grasp why. He pumps into you slowly and deliberately, eyes screwed shut as your cunt squeezes him, his fingers sure to leave marks where they hold onto the swell of your hips.

‘So - so good, Jack,’ you pant.

‘Yes, darlin’,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, fucking you in firm strokes now, palming your tits from behind. ‘This gorgeous pussy grippin’ me so tight, gettin’ so wet on my big cock.’

‘Only for you,’ you declare, rolling your hips so he hits a particularly deep spot inside you.

‘For me,’ he echoes with a groan, planting one foot on the ground to fuck into you harder.

Snaking one hand between your legs - hot and sticky - two thick fingers find your clit, drawing back the hood to rub circles where you can really feel him.

‘Fuck!’ you exclaim, almost bending backwards.

‘Good girl, takin’ me so well,’ he cooes into your ear. ‘She’s goin’ to cum on my cock, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, Jack,’ you whine, getting impossibly wet now. You leak messily down your thighs as he feels you begin to clench around him, your voice running ragged. ‘Please, sir -’

He fucks you through it, jaw clenched so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t crack under the pressure, his hands holding you down as you buck and writhe.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he growls into your cheek, his pace slackening to a languid rhythm. ‘Do you hear yourself? Hear that drippin’ pussy when I fuck it nice and slow?’

Turning over your shoulder, you kiss him, pupils completely blown as you slur drunkenly against his lips, ‘Yes, cowboy. S’ fucking good.’

Jack smiles and he sucks on your bottom lip, you’re so wet that he barely has to roll his hips to sink deep into you.

But even as he lets the moment consume him, something niggles at the back of his mind. It feels too good, as if there's some detail he’s missing - 

And then it strikes him, like lightning on a clear day. Every joint and muscle in his body locks up when it does, and he feels you stiffen instantly in response. His words tumble out in a panicked jumble. ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck! I forgot the condom, shit, I’m so sorry darlin’ -’

When he tries to pull out of you, you hook one foot around his shin and stop him with a hand on his hips. ‘Wait, Jack - just wait.’

He shakes his head in confusion. ‘Wait - why?’

Twisting around so that you’re looking him in the eye, you tell him quietly, ‘I got tested after my ex and I broke up, and - I haven’t been with anyone since.’

While he takes a moment to process, his cock throbs almost painfully inside you. He answers, ‘I haven’t had unprotected sex since my last girlfriend, and I got tested afterwards as well.’

You smile, one hand finding his and slipping your fingers into the gaps between his. ‘I’m just - I’m not on the pill, so we can keep going as long as you don’t cum inside me.’

‘Fuck, darlin’, it's dangerous, talkin' about me cummin’ inside you like that,’ he chides, brow creased in mock reprimand.

You wink. ‘We’ll save that for next time, cowboy.’

‘Next time,’ he promises, with a determination that soothes the anxiety in him.

And so your breaths mist and intertwine, catching the morning light as he thrusts into you, again and again. He doesn’t know where this will go, except for the vow of a next time, but he knows he has this -

The orange wash of dawn over you, his spend on the soft skin of your stomach and your beautiful tits when he cums, his heart beating - hard and sure - with what has deserted him for long years.

Notes: I didn't have as much time to edit this chapter, and I'm still trying to get more comfortable with spending less time overall on both writing and edits, and being more ok with mistakes/typos. The flip side is that what goes on the metaphorical paper is more spontaneous.

There will only be two more chapters before Palomino wraps up. Thank you for sticking around and for being so supportive despite the slow updates recently. It's strange that we're approaching the end for real now, excited isn't quite the right word, but I am looking forward to giving this story the ending Jack, Darlin' and you guys deserve ❤️

Thank you for the love. Comments, reblogs and asks are always appreciated, as always 🥰

Update: I can’t believe I forgot to mention a huge thank you to everyone who gave me all the cool tips for the s’mores and ideas for their last dinner on the trail! This one is for you guys 😘

[poppadom0912]

Congrats on 1k!

🍨 Taste -Sabrina Carpenter

With Adam Ruzek or Kelly Severide please!!

A/N: I chose Adam, hope you don't mind. I also mean no hate to him at all, he just made this most sense. Thank you so much for ordering. I've written this after one of the most tiring weeks of my life so I hope this is up to standards. Enjoy!!

🍨🍨🍨🍨🍨

i heard your back together and if that's true

It had been two months since your break up and you'd been dealing with it better than you had been expecting. You weren't crying constantly and your moping lasted no longer than two weeks.

But just because you were fully healed and over your ex boyfriend didn't mean that you didn't feel some sort of way when you found out he had already moved on with someone else.

And this just wasn't any someone, it was his ex girlfriend, the one he was dating before you, the one he told you to never worry about.

You could only scoff when you saw them together at your local café, your sister holding back her laughter when she caught them first.

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you

There was a sick little part of you that had you thinking that, maybe this new relationship was exactly the revenge you needed on him.

You two had been together for nearly three years, being together for such a long period of time that everyone thought a proposal was imminent.

You had done so much together, had accomplished so many milestones together. Without a doubt, you left a significant mark on him and his life that he could never erase.

And you couldn't help but think that maybe you still impacted his life because certain habits of his were clearly influenced by you.

When they were together out and about, they were doing the things you both used to do. There was no doubt that you were an unwilling third person in their relationship.

if you want forever, and i bet you do

He mentioned it briefly before when you first started dating that one of the reasons he broke it off was because she wanted to get married and he just wasn't ready for that yet.

It seems that even several years later, some things never changed.

And you knew exactly how she felt - to be so deeply in love with a single man that its impossible to ask you not to imagine the rest of your life together.

just know you'll taste me too

You couldn't help but smirk at the way Adam's eyes lingered on your table as they were leaving, his girl clearly noticing as her brows furrowed before huffing and dramatically pulling him into a passionate kiss.

His eyes fluttered closed but hers remained firmly on you.

You continued to smile, waving at her with your fingers before sipping your coffee, your sister now openly cackling.

Her response was to angrily stomp out, her hand clawing his bicep as she dragged him outside.

Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

You watched from afar as time passed, their relationship developing and blossoming but, your 'presence' weighed heavy.

Every time they kissed, whether it be a quick peck or a long make out session in 'private', she always came out unsatisfied, conflict written all over her face.

Your satisfaction only grew. After the break up, you were now thriving but the same couldn't be said for the two of them.

And every time you breathe his air just know I was already there

You couldn't help but think, indulgently, if there was still traces of you left behind. Luckily for you, the tells were very telling.

Adam still using your portable coffee mug, the Lego figure on his keys, the shirts you gifted him still in rotation and the list goes on.

They were living together at this point, and you had no doubt that wherever she went in his apartment, pieces of you were most likely still laying around, forever taunting her.

You can have him if you like. I've been there, done that once or twice

You couldn't understand her obsession.

At first, you somewhat got it. Even you were like that a little bit at the beginning of your relationship, contemplating on his ex due to your insecurities.

But now, this was slightly worrying. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from feeling a little bit of pride.

If you could confront her somehow, reassure her girl-to-girl that she could have him. You were happy for her to take him off your hands, then you would, one hundred percent, take up the opportunity.

But you enjoyed being one her mind 24/7. It made you feel ways that Adam never had in all the three years you two were together.

You had been with him for more than long enough and life now was better than ever. If she wanted him that badly, then she could have him, no words needed.

And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care. Yeah, I know I've been known to share

One year after Adam and his new girl getting together, you sat in Molly's with someone new too.

It had only been two months, this was all fairly new but you had some hope that this could be good. You were excited about what your future together could look like, the butterflies in your stomach being very much missed.

Mumbling a quick thanks under your breath, you pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek, your giddy smile hidden by the glass rim as he looked at you in amusement but a soft look in his eyes and the warmest smile.

You could feel both pairs of eyes trained onto you as he sat down next to you, his arm going around the back of your chair, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder.

"Everything okay?" He asked, noticing you zoning out slightly.

You hummed, softly smiling up at who you hoped would be your boyfriend.

"Yes." You nodded, this man being the only important person as the other two faded into the background. "Everything's perfect."

Jay smiled, pressing a longing kiss on your temple, making you feel all warm and gooey on the inside before resuming his conversation with his brother.

Sipping your wine, all you could feel was the tingling Jay left behind on your lips. All you could taste was him.

[lesbiantaylorswiftstan]

today is canada day, so here are some canadian things that i think the bau members would enjoy

hotch would love tim hortons. he wishes they had it in the states. he'd love going on a timmies run through the drive thru on the way to work. he'd love the ubiquity of tim hortons. not quite on every street corner, but pretty darn close. he would enjoy cheap, decently good coffee, and it would be so practical. his turn to bring snacks for jack's soccer tournament? box of timbits for the kids and one of those portable coffee things for the grown-ups. he doesn't know what to get someone as a gift for christmas/birthday/promotion at work? tims gift card

rossi would love canadian wines. obviously, he loves italian wine first and foremost, but he'd enjoy a good niagara region or okanagan valley wine. he'd love to go on a getaway to niagara-on-the-lake and spend the days doing winery tours, playing golf, and not answering his phone. i think he would also love roots. he'd never wear it outside the house, but he would love some good quality roots sweatpants, sweater, and wool socks

jj would love canadian snacks that aren't sold in the states. she always forgets to eat real meals when she's working, so she keeps one of the drawers of her desk stuffed with snacks. if she went to canada, she'd buy so many snacks to stock her desk with. ketchup chips, all dressed chips, coffee crisp, smarties (the canadian kind, not the american kind - we call those rockets), butter tarts, nanaimo bars. she'd find ketchup-flavoured cheetos at the store and buy so many bags of them. she'd totally get stopped at the border for accidentally trying to smuggle kinder surprise eggs into the us

emily would love québecois and northern ontario french. she learned french in france with parisian teachers, which is completely different from the way french is spoken in québec and northern ontario (which are also different from each other), both in terms of accent and vocabulary. i think she'd love trying to understand their accents and picking up new words (mostly things like tabarnak, câlice, etc)

in my mind, reid has a total sweet tooth, so i think he'd love all things maple. maple cookies, maple fudge, maple candies, maple lollipops. i forget what it's called in english, but his favourite thing would be tire d'érable. maple taffy? the thing where you pour hot maple syrup on snow and then put it on a popsicle stick and eat it. he'd have maple candies living in his pockets and at the bottom of his messenger bag for ages

derek would love small-town ontario craft breweries. obviously craft beer exists outside of canada, but literally every small town in ontario has a craft brewery or two. it's like a big thing. my dad's a beer guy and he takes detours driving places to stop at his favourite craft breweries or to go to a new one. i feel like derek's the kind of guy who enjoys cracking open a cold one after a long day of flipping houses, so he'd enjoy getting a two-four of different kinds of craft beer from a local brewery and stocking his fridge

i tried so hard to think of one thing penelope would love, but honestly i think she would love everything. she'd come back from a trip to canada with so many souvenirs. a roots toque, a bottle of real canadian maple syrup, several snacks that aren't sold in the states, handmade moccasins, a mug with indigenous artwork, and a little bobblehead moose dressed as a mountie for her desk