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roosterforme · 8 months ago

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Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.

"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.

Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."

Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.

While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."

"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."

Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."

His eyes lit up. "Please."

He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.

"Nat, you're a lifesaver."

"Just save me some of the leftovers."

--------------------------

Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.

She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.

"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink.

"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed.

Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."

"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"

"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."

Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."

"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."

Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."

"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."

She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.

"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment.

Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."

"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."

She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.

Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.

-------------------------------

Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.

"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"

He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.

And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much.

He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.

Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.

"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."

She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"

He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."

There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"

Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."

Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."

His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."

Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"

-------------------------------

The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."

Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.

The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.

"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.

Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."

Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."

As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.

"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."

Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.

"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."

Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."

"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."

Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you."

As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."

"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner.

"And I can just as easily drive you."

He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."

----------------------------

"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.

"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.

"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."

"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.

Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.

She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"

"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."

She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"

Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."

She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"

"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"

She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"

He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."

Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.

He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.

She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."

He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."

----------------------------

"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.

She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.

As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over.

She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed.

"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.

She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.

Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?

He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.

Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.

The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.

Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?

"Oh, Anna. Don't."

-------------------------------

Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.

He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.

"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."

Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.

"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."

Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."

"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."

Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."

"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."

She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"

"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."

Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."

"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."

Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"

"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.

---------------------------

Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...."

Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.

"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her.

"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in.

"Are you okay?"

"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.

"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.

They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.

"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place.

"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."

She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.

"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.

"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."

She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.

"It looks good."

She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"

He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"

"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."

He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"

"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly.

"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."

She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."

Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."

She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."

He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"

"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

"Uh. I did. Yeah."

Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."

--------------------------

BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months ago

Text

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide, as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time.

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

"So..." You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

#umm testing out some characterisation #lookism #lookism x reader #seongji yuk #seongji yook x reader #seongji yuk x reader #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon #seongji yook

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kaiserthebiter3 · 2 months ago

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How would the l&ds men react if you were a such a bad cook , but you decided to cook today.

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus x reader (separately)

requests are open:)

Xavier

Neither of you can cook to save your lives , you guys shouldn't be allowed near a stove ,but here you are , both in the kitchen at 3am , no restaurants are open at this hour so you decided to take the matter into your own hands .

"The book says add two spoons of sugar" , considering how xavier likes to read , he happen to own a few cooking books , filled with recipes of desserts and main courses , however both of you were craving a dessert , so you decided to make a chocolate cake .

Surprisingly, things were running quite smoothly , there were a few accidents here and there , but you managed to put the cake in the oven successfully .

you and xavier sat on the couch of living room both scrolling through your phones while waiting , suddenly , a weird smell fills the air.

"what's that smell?" Xavier asks confused , "oh my god Xavier" , "it's the cake" you say standing up wanting to check on the cake , and indeed the cake was burnt ,as expected , "how did that even happen?" you say disappointment clear in your voice "it's been only ten minutes"

xavier looks at the oven trying to figure it out "maybe because you set the temperature at 450 F" he said sighing and shaking his head , "wait is this too much?" you ask clueless , "lovely of course it is" , "even I know this is too high for a cake" he said taking the burnt cake from your hand putting it aside .

"you mean you know that information after too many failed attempts of baking" you say sulking at him , "you know me too well then" he said holding your wrist .

"luckily , I have some ice cream in the freezer for my beautiful girlfriend" he says trying to lift your mood , but that only made you mad at him "you're telling me you had an ice cream this whole time??!" you look at him in disbelief "why did you make us suffer trying to bake some cake?" you frown at him mad , "I just wanted to cook with you , and I had so much fun" he said giving you puppy eyes trying to get you to surrender , and you do , you sigh and give him a small smile "I can't believe you call that mess fun , you're pretty weird" , he smiled back pulling you closer to him by your wrist "only with you".

Zayne

you both order takeouts , or eat your meals at the restaurants most of time , although when zayne is free , or has the day off he'll cook for you two because you will crave homemade food from time to time.

as for you , you only know how to make instant Ramen , and you enjoy them , but your boyfriend zayne doesn't approve of such habits , Ramen isn't a nutritious meal , so he'll be cooking lunch for you today

and you insisted to tag along.

"Zayne pleasssee" you give him your best pleading cute eyes followed by a pout from your puffy lips trying to win him over .

zayne sighs and motions to you to go wash your hands so you can start , "do you see this meat in the big bowl?" , "how about you wash it and I'll start chopping the vegetables" , you nod and lift the bowl enthusiastically , however as you looked at the meat you were quite....disgusted .

'he wants you to wash that?' you thought to yourself , but you didn't complain , persistent on helping him this time , you put the bowl in the sink , the water running on the meat and you're supposed to rub it to get it clean , however all you did was pick it up for a second then drop it still disgusted by its texture .

"what are you doing" zayne startles you as you found him standing behind you with a raised eyebrow , "washing the meat like you asked me to?" you said with a fake innocent tone .

"seems like I've spoiled you too much" he remarks and sighs "you can't even wash some meat" he says crossing his arms , "but zaynee they feel so weird and slippery" you wrinkled your nose pointing at them .

"give me that I'll handle it" he said taking your place at the sink "take this knife and finish chopping the vegetables on my behalf" however as soon as he gave it to you , you held the knife carelessly , it was held dangerously close to your stomach , and he immediately changes his mind and snatches it from you "honey I think the best thing for you to do is to sit there at the table and watch" , you sulk upset "heyyy that's not fair" , "be a good girl and do as you're told" he said his voice a little stern , you don't say anything except for poking your tongue out at him , then sit at the table defeated.

Rafayel

rafayel has been working on some painting for a week , sleeping only few hours a day , and not going out of the house during the painting process , and today he finally finished.

feeling proud of your boyfriend for creating such a stunning painting , you wanted to reward him.....by cooking for him , you do realize your cooking skills are quite poor , but you figured you'd try .

rafayel was in his studio when you finished the cooking , you made him a shrimp with rice on the side and a sauce on top , he does like seafood , so you thought this was a good option.

you head to the studio , your dish in hand , and you see him resting on the couch , scanning his painting for any mistakes .

you walked over to him slowly "how's my artistic boyfriend doing?" you said with a playful smile on your face , rafayel turn his attention from the painting to you , his serious expression is gone , replaced by smile "doing good now that my beautiful girlfriend is here with food" .

you didn't tell him you made the food so he'd be honest with his reaction , "here you go boyfriend" you placed the plate infront of him , "thank you cutie" , he grabbed the spoon and took a mouthful .

and immediately his expression changes starting to cough , you hand him water quickly "rafayel are you ok?" you say concerned and abit guilty , "is this one of your pranks?" he said looking at you frowning .

"is it really this bad?" your voice drops quite and you look down disappointed , "it is , it's tooo salty" he says with his dramatic tone "I think they were trying to get me poisoned , from where did u order that?"

you sat beside him on the couch not facing him , continuing to look down as you play with your hands nervously "I made it" you said your voice barely audible , "you did?" he said in surprise , you never cook usually , "no wonder it's......" you look at him in sad eyes and he clears his throat taking back his words "cutie .., you know?" he brings his hand to your hair stroking it "I was exaggerating , you know how I tend to be dramatic" he takes another bite infront of you "see? not bad" he forced himself to swallow it , his clumsiness made you chuckle "rafayel you don't have to do that , I know my cooking tends to be bad" , "noo not bad just different from the ordinary food we always eat" he said giving you a kiss on your forhead , he never wants you to feel bad about such thing.

Sylus

It was a rare evening where Sylus decided to take over the kitchen, whipping up a dinner for the two of you.

he rolled up his sleeves , revealing the muscles of his arms , as he worked through the ingredients professionally , you approached him with a bright smile, tugging on the edge of his shirt. "Let me help sylus , I want to cook with you"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. “Are you sure? You might regret it if I put you to work,” he teased , "I can handle it! Come on, give me something to do" you insisted, eager to show him you aren't this bad.

Sylus chuckled softly, and decided to give you a chance , he handed you a small cutting board and placed some vegetables in front of you. “Alright, you can chop the vegetables. But try not to cut yourself, okay? I’d hate to see you hurt.”

you ignored his teasing and started your mission , beginning with the carrots, then the peppers , and then.... your greatest enemy appeared , the onions , you froze for a moment, staring down at it scared to do anything, but you knew there was no escaping now. You picked up the onion with a deep breath, bracing yourself.

The first few slices weren’t so bad. But soon enough, the sharp, pungent scent hit you , and your eyes began to burn. tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably , you dropped the knife and rubbed your eyes, but it only made things worse , you turned towards Sylus for help.

“Why did you make me chop onionnnsss?” you asked, your voice cracking as you sniffled dramatically. You walked over to him, “Sylus, I can’t do it! It’s too hard!”

Sylus turned to look at you, his expression shifting from surprise to amusement. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, they’re just onions,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh , he reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand.

You sniffed again “No They burn, and they smell bad, and I hate them!” you complained, leaning into his touch as if he could somehow ease your pain.

“You poor thing , and here I thought hunters were supposed to be tough,” he teased, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb ,you pouted up at him, still sniffling. “I am tough! I just don’t like onions,”

Sylus’s eyes softened slightly at your pout, and he took the cutting board from you, setting it aside on the counter.

turning you around and guiding you towards the sink. “How about you wash your face and freshen up a bit? I’ll finish up with these.”

#l&ds #lnds #love and deepspace #rafayel #sylus #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fluff

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desperate-gay · 10 months ago

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mearps, "i can't believe after 3 years together this is the first time i'm ever learning this", kitchen at home

Family Recipe

Mary Earps x fem!reader

summary: have to read and find out!

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’” Mary’s booming voice startles you, making you jump and almost drop the sharp knife you’re using to slice the food. “I scared ya didn’t I?” The taller girl chuckles, placing her hands on your hips and a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, yes you did.” You huff in fake annoyance while playfully giving her a scolding look.

“Awe you’re so adorable all pouty.” Mary moves in a baby voice as one of her big hands reaches up and squeezes your cheeks. You quickly smack her hand away and mumble something under your breath as you turn your body back to the food.

“How was training?” The goalkeeper sighs, leaning against the counter while watching you do your thing.

“Exhausting, annoying, smelly, and any other adjectives I have missed. Besides that what are you stirring up over there, love?” Your girlfriend quirks an eyebrow and attempts to look over your shoulder only for her sight to still be blocked.

“I am starting to make my uncle’s signature pasta sauce so we can have some tonight.” You say, smiling at her giddy state when she starts clapping her hands in excitement.

At every family function your uncle brings his homemade pasta along with his sauce. Mary is always the first to get a plate and the first to get seconds. Nobody in the family knows the recipe besides your uncle, you, and your mom which makes Mary very jealous when you won’t share it with her.

The taller girl reappears behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and hugging you along with placing random kisses either on your shoulders, head, or cheek. You smile at her clingy behavior, enjoying being close to her after not seeing each other for most of the week.

“Y’know what?” You ask, turning around to face her.

“What?”

“Do you want to help me cook?” Mary looks even more confused considering she doesn’t know anything about how the dish is made.

“I can’t help because I don’t know how.” Your girlfriend huffs while crossing her arms, annoyed that you’re basically rubbing it in her face.

“I think it’s time I can teach you.” You let out a big squeal when the goalkeeper’s arms lift you up into the air and spin you around in glee. “Okay okay, calm down there, cowboy. I gotta be conscious to do so.” You tease which the other girl doesn’t notice from being too caught up putting on an apron she jokingly got for you one day.

“Chef Mary reporting for duty.” She stands tall while fake saluting, making you giggle at her determination and silly nature.

“Alright you goof, you can start by cutting those tomatoes over there.” You point over to the free area with the knife.

“I can’t believe after 3 years together, this is the first time I’m ever learning this.” The taller girl speaks with a certain eagerness and reaches for the veggie and fruit bowl.

“Mary, those are apples.”

A little while later all the ingredients are already in the pot and formed into the signature sauce. You scoop up a little with the wooden spoon and hold her hand under it in case anything spills while blowing to cool it off.

“Time for the final test. Try and see if it’s good.” You hold up the spoon, gesturing for her to open her mouth. Once she does, you angle it up into her mouth in an attempt to make it all in but some drips down the corner of your lips.

“God, that’s so delicious I’ll never get over it.” She groans at the taste immediately wanting more.

“You got a little something right there.” You smile while wiping the remains of the dressing off her chin. While trying to gather it off her face, you don’t notice the loving expression she has while staring down at you. “There you go, my love.” You say, sucking it off your thumb before you swiftly get pulled in for a time-stopping kiss.

The kiss is so unbelievably tender and sweet that you almost faint. You can tell how much love is being poured into it just by the feeling of her lips and her hand cradling your face. Once air becomes a problem, you pull away reluctantly while staring at each other in awe.

“Wow.” You whisper, placing your hands over hers that still rest on your face.

“I love ya. I love ya so so so much.” She finalizes her statement with another big kiss on your lips. In your head, you know that this is forever. No one besides family can know the secret recipes and now she’s your family.

#mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months ago

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Tim Through the Years - The Sibling Dinner

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your overprotective brothers. 0.7k+ words.

“Mashed potatoes... corn... chicken... croissants... gravy,” you mumbled while running around the kitchen of your home. You wiped your forehead and smeared flour on yourself as you checked on the chicken.

“Hey babe! I’m here!” Tim shouted from your front door, letting himself in with the key he had gotten from you so he could take care of your many houseplants when you were gone for a week. Tim walked into the kitchen with you running around trying to get everything done and wearing a very messy apron.

“Oh! Hi, honey, I didn’t see you come in,” you said while mashing the potatoes.

Tim gave you a soft smile and walked up to you. “Baby, why don’t you go get ready and I’ll finish up.” He took a wet cloth and started to wipe away any stray food that had landed on your face.

“But... tonight has to be perfect!” You said while mashing harder and sloshing milk everywhere. You felt eyes on you and made eye contact with Tim and he gave you the look.

“Sigh, okay. Thank you.” You kissed him softly on the cheek and quickly left to get ready. You peeked around the corner to watch him. “Pie needs to come out of the oven in 5 minutes and I make homemade gravy so the recipe card is in my cookbook...” You stopped when Tim crossed his arms and stared at you. You looked away, embarrassed, and ran off to your room.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smoothed down the outfit you decided to wear. Three sharp knocks hit the door before Tim announced, “They are here!”

You ran to the door and opened it to see your twin and older brother standing in the doorway.

“Hey munchkin,” your eldest brother said while giving you a big bear hug.

“You're squishing me!” you tried to say loudly but it came out muffled. Your older brother laughed, let you go, and pushed you to hug your twin. He made eye contact with Tim and stood in front of the both of you. “Who’s this?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, this is Tim... my boyfriend. Tim, meet my older brother Dean and twin brother Sam,” you said nervously.

The staring didn’t stop. Dean stared and Tim stared right back at each other. Dinner was very awkward. No one wanted to say anything for fear of what could happen. You nervously bit your bottom lip and moved your fork around the plate, a little too nervous to eat.

“So Tim, what do you do?” Sam asked to try to break the tension.

“I’m a Sergeant for the LAPD,” Tim said, breaking his stare to look at Sam.

You heard Dean snicker next to you and you kicked him under the table. “Don’t do this,” you whisper-shouted at him.

Dean gave you a mean look and rubbed his knee. Dean turned his attention to Tim, who sat across from him at the table.

“So Tim, you're a police officer. What are you going to do when you die on duty and leave our sister here?” Dean asked with an evil look.

“I don’t plan on ever leaving her. Ever,” Tim stated firmly as he stared right back.

“You don’t know that. And I don’t like the idea of my little sister being here heartbroken because you wanted to be Mr. Hero.” Dean sneered.

“Oh, like you left her and Sam when you ran away from home because of your alcoholic father?” Tim sneered right back.

Dean’s face contorted into anger quickly. “I did that so I could provide a safe, healthy environment for my siblings."

“Um, let’s change topics shall we?” Sam interrupted. “Munchkin, could you pass the croissants?”

“Fine, tell me, Tim. Have you ever killed anyone? You might be a danger to my little sis,” Dean stated while stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork.

You don’t know what happened after that, but there was lots of shouting. Doors slamming and you, sitting in your seat with tears in your eyes. As Dean left your house in a rage, Sam stayed to support you.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” Tim hugged you and kissed your head softly, repeating it over and over. Dean’s support meant everything to you... you didn’t know what you’d do if Tim and Dean could never get along.

#tim through the years #tim bradford x reader #winchester!reader #fluentmoviequoter

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kentosbabes · 2 years ago

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Hey!! I've been binge-reading your works bc they're all so good, and I especially loved the ex-bf Gojo fic💖Since you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do something like that with Eren? Thank you in advance if you do end up accepting this!

Heyy tysm I'm glad you like them! Here are some Ex-Bf Eren headcannons <33

lil bit smutty

Ex-Bf Eren who still thinks about you non stop. No one he has met since compares to you so he doesn't even entertain anyone as he's so confident your the one for him. He even brought the same shampoo and conditioner you use just so he can feel close to you.

Ex-Bf Eren who messages you once a week making sure your okay. He knows you wont answer his message but the little seen under his message is enough for him.

Ex-Bf Eren who kept your recipe to your homemade cookies and spends his weekends trying to replicate yours. But no matter how many attempts they are never as good.

Ex-Bf Eren who stalks all of your socials and finds out what your doing and where you are. He's too nervous to go up to you knowing you didn't end on the best terms but he's content with watching you laugh with your friends at the bar, but he cant help but feel jealous and protective of you as he sees other men in the club eye you up.

Ex-Bf Eren who goes to the same club you go to every Friday night so he can see you, and one night when one of the men get too close to you and he can see the uncomfortable expression on your face he's there Infront of you shielding you before punching the guy right in the face and pulling you out of the club.

Ex-Bf Eren who just stare's at you as you shout at him about what just happened. He couldn't care less, he knows you see him every week, he knows you stare at him when he's not looking and he knows you haven't even touched anyone else since you broke up.

Ex-Bf Eren who's now pulling you in by your waist and putting his lips to yours in a slow passionate kiss. You dont protest and kiss him back melting in his grasp and he's smirking at how easy you give into him.

Ex-Bf Eren who has you moaning as his fingers rub on your clothed clit as he drives to his place. The cocky smirk plastered all over his face as he listens to your pleas 'ren please I c-cant' you moan. 'ma you've been ignoring me for months and now you want me to stop? you take what I give you okay?' you can only nod in response as he pulls up into the driveway of his mansion. 'that's my good girl.'

Ex-Bf Eren who happily wakes up in the morning with you cuddling into his side in only one of his hoodies. He moves you so your onto of him and traces shapes into your back listening to your breathes as you sleep.

Ex-Bf Eren who's making breakfast when you walk in rubbing your tired eyes. He rushes over kissing all over your face as you giggle in his arms. 'you still love me baby?' he questions. You know his possessive nature can take over but how could you ever move on from him? His green eyes filled with love as you place his hair in a bun before replying 'always'.

*I hope this was okay :) I made a part 2 here!!

masterlist

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bbqgriiling · 7 months ago

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#BBQ rub recipes #Delicious BBQ rub recipes #Best BBQ rub recipes #Homemade BBQ rub recipes #Easy BBQ rub recipes

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tiramisuwithmascarpone · 7 months ago

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Flowers you gave to Gods have withered away? no problemo, reuse them!

Hello guys! I believe I made a post before in which I talked about my habit of picking up flowers for Lady Aphrodite, Lord Hermes, and Lady Athena whenever I come back home. However, since they do not have dirt in which to expand their roots and absorb water, they wither away very soon. Generally, I would advise you to not leave expired food or dried-up flowers on your deity's altar. But there comes the question

,, Jelly, what do I do with them afterward?"

Well, fear not, because I've got just the solution as your fellow devotee and flower enjoyer!

1. Make homemade Potpourri!

A potpourri is basically a jar full of flowers, fruits, spices, etc. Which you leave in your room for its scent. Once your flowers get all dry, you can make one of these and place them in your room as to fill it with scents that remind you of your deities! and it is also a way more natural alternative to room freshener. I personally follow this recipe:

– Spread your flower heads and petals on a baking sheet. – Dry your flowers in an oven at 93° Celsius (200° Fahrenheit), which may take up to two hours. – Place dried flowers in an airtight container with a lid and add two or three drops of essential oils for your ideal scent. Rose, lemon, lavender, and cinnamon are among the most common fragrances for the home. – Store for six to eight weeks to allow the flowers to absorb the essential oils.

PS: Can also be a good freshener for your altar!

2. Homemade dried flower body scrub!

I actually only found out abut this today. But, apparently, if you mix up dried flower petals with Epsom salt, sea salt, baking soda, and essential oils you can basically create a scrub! I dunno if I would recommend it to people with sensitive skin tho...

3.Scented room spray

Mix together essential oils, alcohol, and dried flowers, and BOOM natural room spray! poof a little on your altar every morning!

4. If they are roses, make rosaries out of them!

Even though rosaries can be found a lot in Catholicism, many other religions use them. Buddhists, Muslims, and so much more! and, they actually used to be made out of actual roses. @jekraftbooks has a very good tutorial on TikTok about this, but basically, you need to:

1.Take your dried roses and throw them in a blender

2.Cook them down for several days at a low temperature. Only simmering, never boil.

3.When it begins to form like a clay ball, it is ready to go! Get a cheese cloth and squeeze all the water you can out of the clay. (Keep it for later)

4.Roll them into balls. Put a needle through them to make the hole, then leave them on cardboard for a few days to dry.

5. Once they dry, they will be rough, but we need them to have a smooth texture. Use the water from step 3, then rub some oil on them to give them some shine and protection from water ✨

6.Your beads are done! congrats! make necklaces, earrings, bracelets, any type of jewelry you wish for with them! You can also dedicate them to a deity as devotional jewelry or use them for prayer. Let your creativity go wild!!

#hellenic pagan #hellenic #hermes devotee #pagan #aphrodite devotee #hermes #hermes deity #aphrodite #aphrodite deity #athena #hellenic devotion #flowers #offering #offering ideas #physical offerings

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fuckingrecipes · 4 months ago

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Easy Homemade noodle recipes

Egg Yolks: Start with 2, go up from there.

Egg Whites: Half of however many yolks you used

Water: As needed. Maybe 1 tsp per 2 eggs.

Salt: idk, a pinch. 1 Teaspoon?

Flour: Enough so it becomes a dough, and not mush. 1 cup per egg, with more or less added for texture.

Butter or Oil: idk like half teaspoon per egg? I just blop a little bit in there, eyeballing it.

Other shit: Add dried herbs or spices if you want. I like an italian herb mix in mine. Basil and Oregano and Black Pepper

Start with a pile of flour. Sort out your egg situation and dump those into the flour. Add a little water and oil, and mix it together for about 5 mins.

If it's crumbly and doesn't want to be a neat dough ball after 5 mins, add more egg yolk or water. If it's super sticky and making a huge mess, add more flour.

After 10 mins of kneading and adjusting ratios so it looks like a dough, divide it into smaller balls that are each about the size of a lime. Doesn't have to be precise.

Let those chunks of dough rest for another 10 mins. (yes, resting is important)

Use a rolling pin to roll out the dough as thin as you can, without putting holes in it. Anywhere from 1/4 inch to paper thin is fine.

Rub a little more flour on the dough if it wants to stick to the rolling pin or your counter surface.

Once it's as flat as you want, roll up the dough like it's a scroll, and slice it thinly.

You can toss them in BOILING water (or straight into broth/sauce), and cooking 'till done. Cook time depends on how thick your noodles are. After 5 minutes of boiling, take a noodle out and try a nibble. If it's not done, boil it some more. If it's done, take it off the heat. You can also fry the noodles in oil if you want.

Or you can save them for later by laying or hanging the noodles until dry. Could be on a counter with paper towels on either side of them... could be hung on a coat hanger... however you can get airflow to dry those suckers out for a couple hours. Then put in an airtight container in the fridge.

#egg noodles #easy noodle #recipe #noodle recipe

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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago

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Stable Girl!Joel and Sunshine

Joel trying to take care of her pregnancy cravings and needs. Massages, carrying her to see how the horses are doing, I googled how to make oatmilk ice cream and it could be doable, just need like butter or cashews to make it creamy ♥️♥️ I like the idea of Joel being taught how to do it by hand♥️ just for her!

Ah Strawberry ice cream?!

Love Language

pairing: The Stable Girl-Verse!joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

rating: F (talks of pregnancy/symptoms, joel is perfect)

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHH this SENT me anon 😭 the strawberrrriesssssss 😭

the stable girl masterlist | joel masterlist

“Again?” Joel’s voice sounded from behind you as you sat at the dining table in the middle of the night, scarfing down the chocolate cake Ellie baked as a “congratulations” for your newly announced pregnancy. You froze as he flicked the light on to get a better picture of the scene he was walking in on—you in your nightgown, your belly as round as a watermelon, chocolate frosting on your mouth.

“I had a craving,” you meekly justified your current state, bringing an amused grin to his face as he walked over, sleep tousling his hair and softening his eyes. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he pulled up a seat beside you and plucked your fork from your hand and shoveled a piece of cake into his mouth. “Who said I wanted to share, huh?”

“My apologies,” he smiled as he lifted a piece to your lips, his lazy grin growing wider as he watched your lips wrap around the fork, cleaning it off. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip to collect the chocolate frosting that rested there before sucking it off with a satisfied hum. “I love seein’ you like this.”

“Yeah?” You laughed and rolled your eyes at the compliment. “I’m sure I look like an absolute goddess right now.”

“You do to me,” he crooned, his hand reaching down to rub over your stomach through the cotton of your gown. “Carryin’ my baby. You couldn’t look more beautiful to me than right now.”

“You’re awfully sweet for being woken up in the middle of the night,” you cooed back with a smile, pinching his chin.

“One more bite and then you’re comin’ back upstairs with me,” he ordered, reaching for the fork to feed you a satisfying final bite before doing the same for himself.

Obeying his command, you let him take you back up to bed for the night, your sugary craving now satisfied and a new, sweeter craving dawned—a craving for Joel’s arms wrapped around you, lulling you to sleep.

“How’s baby Miller doin’?” Joel mumbled against your shoulder as he kept his lips pressed there, holding you from behind and rubbing your stomach.

“Starting to kick a lot,” you chuckled through your sleepiness. “And they apparently have quite the sweet tooth. I haven’t stopped craving sugar since the third trimester started.”

“Oh, I know,” he chuckled and hugged you closer. “Can’t wait to have her here with us.”

“Me neither.”

Joel stood in the kitchen, a piece of paper in front of him on the counter with a messily scribbled recipe he’d jotted down courtesy of Maria. With the cake long gone by now, you’d gone days without something sweet to fulfill your cravings. Though you didn’t make a fuss over it, Joel took it upon himself to remedy the situation with an attempt at homemade ice cream—strawberry, thanks to the community garden’s latest impressive harvest.

“Oof,” you came waddling inside the house from the backyard, your hands still wearing your gardening gloves as they supported your lower back. “I think I’m getting too pregnant to take care of my flowers,” you pouted as you found yourself a seat at the dining table to watch Joel as he shuffled around the kitchen. After a beat of no response, you huffed out, “Hello? Am I a ghost?”

“Huh?” He turned around with a frantic, flustered expression and seemed to just now realize you’d come inside. “Sorry. I’m just…why are recipes so damn hard to follow. What’s the damn difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon?”

“Well, one’s bigger,” you chuckled and found the strength and energy to stand up and waddle over to the sink, your gloves coming off so that you could wash up. Peering over his shoulder, you nosily studied what he was working on before catching a glimpse at the recipe sheet. Though his handwriting wasn’t the cleanest, you could clearly make out “Strawberry Ice Cream” as the title. “Are you making ice cream?”

Joel whipped his head over at the sound of your bright voice, your smile wide with delight.

“Yeah,” he sighed, disappointed that his surprise had been ruined. “Was tryin’ to keep it a surprise until after supper but—“

You tugged him into a hug so tight he worried for a moment that you’d crush him.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his neck as your face buried there. Joel chuckled and peeled himself from you enough to look you in the eye, his smile soft as he studied the appreciation written all over your face.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughed, leaning in to peck your lips. “Might fuck it up.”

“I have full faith in you,” you assured with your thumb and index pinching his chin. “Especially when I call Ellie in here to help you because I need that ice cream, my love. More than I need anything.”

“Oh, anything, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest and turned playfully jealous in an instant. You laughed and stroked over his beard until his pour turned into a smile.

“Fine, almost more than anything.”

“Thank you,” he smiled into the kiss he planted upon your lips before tapping your ass lightly. “Now what were you sayin’ when you walked in?”

“Oh, I was just saying I don’t think I can look after my flowers anymore. My back is so sore these days—“

“Is it sore now?” He slid his hand up to rest on your lower back, his warm palm soothing over the aching muscle. When you let out a sigh of relief and rested your head on his chest, Joel felt a frenzy of affection swarm in his belly. “Baby,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let me take you upstairs and fix you a bath.”

“No,” you objected, lifting your head off his chest. “I really need to fix up the nursery. Baby girl is gonna be here in six weeks.”

“I’ll get someone else to do it—“

“No, you already got someone else to cover my shifts at the stable, and the garden, and now you’re trying to take away my nesting?” you playfully scolded him, a smirk on your face.

“I just hate seein’ you work too hard. You’re already workin’ a miracle by bringin’ my baby into the world,” he frowned a bit, something he’d only ever let you see. “I’ll leave you to your nestin’ but not until you sit in a hot bath. Your back’ll thank me later.”

“Fine, it’s a compromise,” you grinned and pulled him down for another short but satisfying peck. “Okay, I’ll go upstairs for my bath while you and Ellie finish the ice cream.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Later on that night after having spent at least an hour in the bathtub and twice as long fussing over the nursery, Joel forced you to relax at the dinner table, bringing you a plate of the most tender roast you’d ever seen.

“Oh my god,” you beamed as you looked from the plate to his eyes. “You did this?”

“I’ve been workin’ on my cookin’,” he shrugged bashfully. “It ain’t exactly fine dinin’, but I thought you deserved a fancier dinner than what I normally throw together.”

“You—“ You grabbed his chin and turned his face towards you, your smile still bright and beaming. “You are the love of my life, Joel Miller.”

Joel looked touched, his smile soft and sweet, just like him—or at least the side of him that you knew.

“And you are my life. Everything I do, everything I got—“ He placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed. “Everything. It’s yours.”

“Don’t make me cry on my food,” you chuckled and wiped the tears that filled in your waterline. “It looks too good to ruin.”

Joel laughed. “You started it.”

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