#lemon with the berry sweet looks really nice too you know?

[paldeanseaandsun]

Hellooooo! Fellow person who also goes to Blueberry! :D

Do you have a favorite Alcremie form? Or, if not...favorite thing about Uva Academy!

(@blueberry-gills)

Hi there, it's good to meet you! :D

I'll go ahead and answer both questions!!

A favorite Alcremie form is such a tough decision! All of them are so cute! I'm really partial to Ruby Swirl with the Love Sweet, though! And Matcha with the Clover Sweet!

As for my favorite thing about Uva Academy... The entrance hall is a huge library! I could probably spend at least a couple months there and still not have worked my way through everything! It's cool! ... Or, ah, I think so at least, eheh.

[penelope-potter]

Your Scent~

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Alastor X Fem! Owl Hybrid! Reader

Summary: Alastor and you became good friends, which was changed later when he discovered how much he liked your scent~

Warnings: Smut (Oh gosh I can't write this, this won't go well)

♥♥♥

♥♥♥

It was the day you started to try out Angel's different kinds of perfumes as your good friend Alastor started to act weird. Angel and you were friends too- but the kind of friendship neither of you have a crush on another. However- you sat once again in Angel's room and chatted about everything that came into your mind. Today he came up with the topic of past live story's. "You know I loved the perfumes these days. They smelled actually nice, rather than the shit Val force me to put on..." He holds up a pink bottle and smiled. "But this baby here is my favorite." He unscrew the cap and holds the pipette right in front of your face. You sniffed on it and smiled. "Hey this smells good! It's giving me nostalgic vibes." "Very funny!" "No really, I can totally imagine yourself dressing up like a bad bitch running down the old streets with your partner in crime. How romantic." You blinked and laughed as he pushed your elbow. "Come on, try it on you'll smell like a snack with this on!" He said and came closer, you bend backwards. "Whoa wait, why should I smell like a 'snack' again?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "Well I don't know maybe because your tall hotty will start to fall for you then?" He wiggle his eyebrows at you and you laughed it off. "Oh yes totally. I already see him drooling all over me just because I tried on one of your perfumes!" You joked and shook your head. "You won't regret it. A good scent can stuck into someone's memory, even in his." He dripped a few drops from the liquid on your neck and rubbed it into the right places. It smelled really nice. Like berry, leather and vanilla. Everything was fine until you started to wear it a week long. Angel's curiosity if the demon would actually hit on you was shattered in pieces then, because he only seemed irritated most of the time you cross paths with him. He looked after you with an itch in his eyebrow but never said anything.

It confused him more than he would ever admit. The perfume you wore smelled much too sweet for his opinion, and it ruined your whole appearance. He asked himself why he was fretting about something so mundane and unimportant, and tried to ignore it. But it got worse when you started to pick another scent today. You were walking down the kitchen, not even fully awake yawning when he smelled it between the coffee and eggs. The scent of lemon and cherry's. The static of his presence got so loud you had to cover your ears. "Alastor? Is everything alright?" You asked him suddenly, and he stopped in his movement to lead the cup to his mouth. "Of course. Why not?" He said, his expression annoyed. "Your static sounds a bit more...angrier today." You sad, placing your elbows on the kitchen table and smiled at him. Your hair stood up in all directions and your eyes were still a bit groggy. A pathetic view of you. No it was not, he actually liked the view of you in this way. He only realized it now that he liked your hair when he touches it, and how soft it feels. He also likes the warmth of your body when he lays and hand on your back. And he also realize that he likes your smell the most. Your natural scent which would made him go wild to just smell it once more. It was far more intense and much more suiting for you than that pathetic excuse for a 'perfume'. He couldn't understand why you put such colognes on yourself, when your scent already was enough to drive him insane.

"You smell different." He said, shocked about himself that the words just slipped out of him. He turned around as you started at him with wide eyes. "Uhm...yes. It's Angel's perfumes. I tried them on." You answered, he fiddling with his cup, which was long empty. "Hmm I personally don't like the idea of you putting on pathetic, much too sweet liquids on you dear..." He turned around and bends down on you so you pushed away as your nose almost touched his. "So you don't like it?" You asked, your heart hammering against your rip cage. “Darling your smell alone could make any guy tripping over his feet to be close to you.” The heat rushed into your cheeks. "Uhm... I didn't know you liked my scent so much..." You could only say, his smile more thin and his eyes itched. "Oh I didn’t knew it either up until now.” You smiled shyly. "Is that so?" You scratched the back of your hands, your wings flutter in excitement. "Maybe I should wash the perfume off then." You laughed as you still could feel his gaze resting on you.

"Oh dearest I would be more than happy to help you with that..." You looked at him as his smile grew more of lust and admiration. It took the courage of a lifetime to give him the answer you gave him. "Good then. Let's go." You stood up a bit too fast as he catches your chair from crashing on the floor, his body near to yours. "Good manners darling." He gently took your hand and leaded you with him. Your heart dizzy you could only feel him in the moment. He doesn't lead you into your room but in his instead and closed the door behind him. It was the second the door fell into place as your mind was set back in reality. What the fuck did you think you were doing?! "You- you don't have to actually help me you know... I just-" "Hm-hm." He raised his finger and came closer to you, titling your chin upwards. "Why not letting it happen and talk afterwards? Because right now darling, I'm ravenous for you..." You closed your mouth again and just nodded. You would have never expected that this will lead so far, but you seemed to not care at all. He was right you can talk later about it, because right now it felt so good as he helped undressing you, the air hitched cold on your skin. You were only in your underwear now as he came so close to you that your bodies touched as he took off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. His hands slowly finding their way to your back and your bra which he carefully unlocked and you slightly jumped by the sudden touch of his sharp claws. He was a bit unexperimented with his movements but it calmed your nerves to know this was nerve wrecking for him too. You could feel his hands shaking as you stopped him from going further away from you. "You will get wet when you'll help me..." You said and pulled on his bow tie exposing his neck. "Easy dear...I'm sure the image of my body will terrify you..." He said, holding your hand to stop the movement. "It won't. You know...I'm sure a woman would also be lost for air seeing such a body." You smiled slightly waiting for his respond of using his own words against him. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. "I guess I'll have to play a part in this too don't I?" "Yes you do." You let your hand wander over his chest to his buttons. "Don't say I didn't warned you." "Oh don't be so silly. Since when do you feel so self conscious? Not because of me." He laughed. "As if you're not worth starting wars for..." You stopped and looked at him shocked, he did the same. The words were slipping out of him more than usual, and it made him nervous. "Wow...no one ever said something like this to me." You smiled and unbuttoned the last button of his shirt and his fluffy chest came into your view. "What a pity to not being able to see what a beauty you are. Not only for you personality but also for your appearance..." You chuckled and raised your hand. "May I?"

His mouth closed smile gotten wider. "Oh how rude from me, I didn't asked you earlier. I guess you don't have to ask me too then." You smiled and were careful. You two were now almost completely undressed, and his body made you more nervous than the fact that you're basically also exposed too. His slender waist and the deep scars forming a pattern like tiger stripes around his chest and hips. His little deer tail looked so fluffy it was a scandal he hides it. "Like I said. Drop-Dead Gorgeous." You said smiling. He laughed. Genuine. "God you are too sweet for me. I'm afraid of not controlling myself after washing this...stuff away from you dearest." He said close to your ear as you shivered.

He was leading you into the shower he made with a simple snap running. The water was warm as you stood underneath it, his coat long slipped over your shoulders as he hold you close to him. You tried your best to keep your eyes where they should be as you admired his wet appearance. The soap he used smelled like lemon and ginger. It was not too sharp but it let you realize that this was how he smelled all the time. You smiled as you stood with your back facing him and enjoyed the caressing as he stopped for a moment. Suddenly you felt his hands wrapping around your torso and you slightly jumped as he placed his chin on your shoulder. "And? Better?" You asked smiling. "Much better." He sung. "I guess now I'll be rather smelling like you." "In this case everyone will know that you belong withme…" You smiled. “So, this was all a plan huh?” You joked as he turned you around to look at you, the water dripping from his ears on his shoulders. “Oh if this would have been planned darling, I would have done it much sooner. But I guess I only realized it now.” “What?” You asked him as he bend down, his mouth close to your ear. “That I would kill for calling you mine.” His voice brought shivers down your core as you placed a hand on his cheek. “In this case- you don’t need to kill someone. I accept the offer.” He took your hand and pulled you closer with the other. “Is this just your mind playing tricks on you or a you serious dear? Don’t play with me please.” Your smile dropped slightly. “I would never play with you Alastor. I hope you don’t change your mind either.” “Never.” He sung. You raised an eyebrow. “Show me that you mean it then.” He looked at you a moment before his teeth showing smile made you nervous. “Darling did I not showed you already? I would have never exposed myself like this with some mindless toy…”

You scanned his features and smiled. “You are a mystery Al. Never know what to expect from you.” He raised his hand and held your chin to lift it a bit. “So tricky. I like that.” He said chuckling. “I guess I’ll have to show you otherwise.” He kissed you out of nowhere and his hands trailed over your back. You wrapped your arms around his torso too as you could feel his nails tracing down your hips. The kiss deepens as you could feel he getting braver with each second as he carefully let his hands hover over your ass as you smiled against his lips and pulled his hands on it. He jumped a bit and stopped to look at you. “Got so brave, what’s wrong?” You asked innocent and he actually looked like a mess. You even got to hint a slight blush across his features, and finds it adorable. He said nothing and just pushed you against the wall while the water kept hitting you both on the head and continued to kiss your neck. You gripped his hair stronger as his hands wanders over your body until his hands find their way to your sides. His left hand trails over your rips as you could feel them on your breast. You gasped against his mouth as he growls and his grip tightens around both of them now. His body pressed against you as you could feel his lower part tickling yours. “We should not be doing this…” You said breathless and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Oh we should not be doing so many things darling but since we’re already in hell I guess this is what we are supposed to do…” He chuckled and you smiled. “Yeah you’re probably right.” You let your own claws trail over his back until you found his deer tail which you slowly gripped. He jumped a little for you to notice and his eyes grew wide, his smile thin. “Don’t go too far dearest. I might not be able to control myself. I already told you...” “Yes and I told you to go ahead. I can handle it you know?” You grinned and he took a moment to admire your beauty. You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, your claws sharp and long. He wanted to feel those on his back, or your soft breasts in his hands. It was strange really, he never craved such nasty things, and yet here he is- in the shower with the only woman in all of his life that he wants to do all the things he ever heard what others were doing. Suddenly he can understand the lustful things they said, because right now he was more ready than before. You smiled widely, your sharp teeths showing. “What do you wanna do now buck?” He blinked a few times, as he looked into your lidded eyes and grabbed you at your hips again, pushing you against him. “Why don’t we bring this to something more exciting and do the talking later, songbird?” “Great idea.” You sung as he pressed his lips against yours once again and lifted you up. You spread your legs to hold on to his slender waist as you took his sharp featured face in your hands again. You could feel how hot you got and how he’s gotten too. His fur was silky and the scent of him drove you insane. You started to bite his lower lip as he let go of you to trade little bites on your shoulder. You gripped his own shoulders so hard you had to control yourself to not hurt him. He wouldn’t matter though,

because right now you were are all he could think of. You warmth, your scent. Between the soap of his own he could still smell it. The scent he never thought could make him so out of place once it was gone. “You taste so good, darling.~” He said and he meant it. Your lips tasted like the flowers in front of his house in his past life before. Or the sweet smell of when he came home and only his mother and him were there. You taste better than his first taste on human flesh and you thrilled him more than his first crime. You were able to consume him in ways he would have laughed it off if someone had told him this morning. “And you smell so fucking good.” You said and rolled your hips against his length as you could feel how it affected him. His claws dig deeper in your ass as he brought you into position, his cock rubbing at your cunt. You slid your hand at his hard cock and smiled as he groans. “You are so hot right now.” You said in a way to encourage him because his eyes told more than his stiffened smile. He was not used to this, and you would have never thought that he would do such sinfull things with you. Since it’s his first, you wanted to make sure he feels nice. You were glad you two were in the shower, because it makes things easier. You smiled as he looked at you, his cheeks flushed in a beautiful reddish color and his pupils delighted, as he looked at you lips. “Shit… I want you dearest I can’t help myself-” “Then don’t fight against it. It’s just me remember?” You winked and started rubbing his hard cock in slow motions as he let go of another moan. He grabbed you again and started to bite your neck as he pushed your hands high above you, holding you trapped between him and the wall. His chest was pressed against your breasts and his cock tickled your cunt. “As I said before sweetest. You are worth starting wars for.” He hitched close to your ear. You could feel how his hand find it’s way to your cunt once again as he thrusts two of his fingers inside it. You groaned and digged your nails in his neck. “You like that hmm?” He sung as you rolled your hips to release the feeling which was bubbling up your stomach. But he doesn’t let you enjoy it for too long because he stopped and pulled out, only for thrusting his cock into you. You moaned and helped him with a last push as you could feel him shudder. You smiled as you hitched as his hands were all over you while rolling his hips in a steady tempo. You could hear him moan and he hitched as you pulled his hair while you let your head fall back as he licked your neck. “Faster.” You let off breathless as he grabbed your ass again and lift you up to press you against the cold wall behind you. “Giving orders now naughty girl?” He said breathless. “Just guiding you, sweetheart.” You whisper as he continued to thrust into you faster and kissed you deep. He tasted like coffee and mint and the smell of him is driving you insane as you almost reached your climax. He let go of your mouth as you looked into two now black eyes. His antlers grew third the seize but his smile was still the same.

“Who’s naughty now? Are we a little exited buck?” You teased and grabbed his black antlers to hold on to as he keep pushing inside you, his head now in your direction as you looked at each other while you moaned and he does the same. You reached your climax almost the same time as him and let go of his antlers slowly. You two gasped for air as he laughed and let his head fall against your shoulder. “Enjoyed it?” You said, smiling too. Your heart pondered in your chest and he was still shivering as a result of the excitation. “Very much dearest.” He came up again, his eyes now his normal red and his antlers the right size. He cupped your cheek and smiled softly. “This was kind of thrilling. I never experienced something like this before.” You smiled. “I know. Therefore I’m honored I could be your first. Glad you liked it.” You laughed and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He laughed back like two teenagers as he trailed his nails over your scalp. “I hope I didn’t made a fool of myself…” “No, no It was great.” You let your gaze wander up and down on him. He catches you trailing your nails over his back in a soothing motion. “Well then…” He cleared his throat awkwardly while trying so hard to not look on your lips as you grinned. “...I think we should dry us up.” “Good idea.” You looked up at him, waiting for his reaction. “What, lost your tongue?” You teased, his eyebrow twitched. “Teasing thing you are-” You laughed and turned around as he stopped and kissed you one more time, his tongue exploring your mouth once again but slower this time. He snapped as you let go of each other and a towel appeared around your bodies. Your hair was dry and also your feathers, just like his. “Thank you, Buck.” “My pleasure, little songbird.”

~~~~~~~~~

oh my gosh i did it, this was so weird to write it for the first time and I hope I don't fucking blame myself here right now... QwQ

[luckyroll3]

Chef's Kiss: Part 2

Masterlist and Summary

The Farmers’ Market

You step into the busy activity at the farmers' market, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the stalls. Colors burst from every corner—a mosaic of ripe red tomatoes, sunny lemons, and deep green zucchinis. Laughter mingles with the calls of vendors announcing their fresh goods. You weave past stalls overflowing with rainbows of produce, following the mingled scents of lavender and wood smoke.

As you look around deciding which booth to visit, you spot him — Chris, leaning against a wooden post, watching the crowd with those warm brown eyes as he pops something into his mouth from a small paper bag. You take him in, enjoying the way his black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off showcases his large biceps and triceps, and also gives a small peek at his sculpted pecs. The slim cut of his jeans hugs his muscular thighs, making you wonder how often he works out…and if you’re being honest with yourself, how those thighs would feel wrapped around you. 

When he sees you, his lips curve into a slow smile. Your pulse stutters. His presence is unexpected, but wholly welcome. He pushes off the post and walks towards you with the swagger of a man who knows he’s hot.

“Fancy meeting you here.” His voice rumbles, low and playful, his accent thick and sexy. You like the way the sunlight catches the playful spark in his brown eyes.

You laugh, hoping the melanin in your cheeks is enough to hide the heat rising there. “Chef Chris. I didn’t know you came to this market.”

“Best basil in the city.” He plucks a sprig of green leaves and holds them under your nose. “Have a sniff.”

The scent envelops you, fresh and bright. You close your eyes, breathing deep to savor the moment. The rich and peppery aroma wraps around you.

"Nice, right?" He's close now, his breath a whisper against your cheek.

“Heaven,” you agree, eyes fluttering open to meet his. He grins at your response.

"Imagine this, torn over a fresh Caprese salad," he muses, his hand lingering near your face.

"Or folded into a strawberry basil sorbet," you counter, feeling bold under his attentive look.

"Ah, sweet and savory." There’s a hint of admiration in his tone. "I love that combination."

"Me too," you reply, and it feels like you're talking about more than just flavors. “Shopping for ingredients?” you ask, shifting the topic.

"Always," he replies, his gaze sweeping over the colorful displays. "Join me?"

You nod, matching his grin, and together you weave through the crowd. The air buzzes with energy, a symphony of sounds and smells.

“So, what are you hunting for today?” you ask.

“Inspiration.” He shrugs, gaze drifting over the stalls. “Maybe some peaches for a tart, if they look good. You?”

“Just restocking. Tomatoes, zucchini, ginger, maybe some berries—the usual.” You follow as he meanders toward a fruit stand, bumping shoulders. “Any new recipes you’re dying to try?”

“A few.” He smiles down at you, eyes glinting with secret amusement. “But I’ll need an assistant to help test them.”

“Oh really?” You raise a brow. “And would this position come with benefits?”

Chris stops, turning to face you. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers linger against your neck. Your breath hitches.

“Some,” he murmurs, “and it might require overtime.”

You swallow hard, mouth gone dry. “I—I see.”

Chris drops his hand, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Interested?”

You stare at him, stunned into silence. Your heart thuds wildly, torn between excitement and panic.

After a long moment, Chris laughs. He leans in, voice dropping, “Think about it... The offer’s open if you change your mind. You’d get to work directly under me.”

He turns towards the stand before you can respond.

"Check these out," he continues, pointing to a pyramid of oranges that gleam like little suns. One of them has been sliced in half, revealing the beautiful crimson-colored flesh of a blood orange. "Perfect for a zesty sauce, don't ya think?"

"Or a summer cocktail," you suggest playfully, imagining the tangy sweetness on your tongue.

He chuckles, and it's a sound that seems to dance in the air. "I like the way you think."

You follow Chris to the jam stand nearby. He cheerfully chats with the vendor for a few minutes. He turns to you. “Found the perfect peach preserves for that tart. Want to try?”

The vendor offers you a spoonful of glistening amber preserve. You take the wooden spoon and place it into your mouth. The sweetness of ripe peaches bursts over your tongue, balanced by a hint of tartness. “It’s delicious.”

“Told you.” He grins in satisfaction. “I’ll have to save you a slice when I test the recipe.”

“Please do.” You lick the remnants of preserve from your lips, noticing how his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. Your blush returns in full force.

Clearing his throat, Chris tears his eyes away and examines the jars beneath them.

"Bet you can't guess the secret ingredient in this one," he teases, offering you a spoon laden with a deep, berry-red jam.

You accept the challenge, the wood touching your lips. The burst of flavors is complex—tart, sweet, a hint of something elusive. "Is that... cardamom?"

"Close," Chris grins, clearly delighted. "Star anise."

"Of course." You laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. You chose a jar, reading the label and asking him to guess this time. The playful exchange, a dance of spoons and guesses, weaves a thread of camaraderie between you.

"Okay, how about this one," he insists, scooping up a golden-hued preserve.

The taste is sunshine on your tongue, summer captured in a spreadable form. "Mmm. I’m not sure what the fuck it is, but it’s divine!"

He laughs loudly. "Right answer," he says approvingly, his dimpled smile widening.

“I definitely taste the mangoes. And there’s….” You think for a moment as you use a new spoon to bring another small scoop to your tongue.

“Passionfruit,” he whispers.

“Ah. Great combination.” You smile at him as you swallow slowly.

You move on, feet guiding you to where sacks of spices spill their contents in vibrant heaps. Earthy aromas beckon, a tapestry of scents painting the air. Chris' hand hovers over the mounds, his fingers dusted with a fine powder of paprika and turmeric.

"Smell this," he says, holding up a pinch of saffron threads, delicate and red-gold.

You lean closer, the scent exotic, a whisper from faraway lands. He watches you, the look in his warm brown eyes intense, inviting you to share in his passion for the culinary arts.

"Imagine this in a paella," he murmurs, "Infusing the rice with its color and flavor."

"Transformative," you breathe out, caught in a moment where all that exists is the spice between his fingers and the possibility hanging in the air.

"Exactly." His voice is low, reverent. "Spices are the soul of a dish."

Your gaze lingers on his hands before moving back up to his handsome face.

“This would also make a great curry. Have you ever tried making it from scratch?”

“Can’t say I have.” You smile, leaning against the stall. “It sounds complicated.”

“Not at all. Maybe I’ll teach you one day.” He gathers up an armful of packaged spices and grins at you. “If you ever have the time, that is.”

Your heart leaps at the invitation. “I could make the time.”

“Great.” Chris pays for the spices, then turns to you. “We’ll schedule something, yeah?” You nod slowly.

You stare at each other for a long moment, smiles fading into something more serious. The air between you seems to hum with possibility.

Chris clears his throat again and looks away. “Let’s see what they have over here.”

An hour later, you settle onto a wooden bench, the grain rough beneath your fingers. Chris hands you a cup of lemonade, cold condensation kissing your skin. You take a sip, the sweet tartness dancing on your tongue and the liquid soothing your dry throat.

"Nothing like fresh lemonade to revive the spirit," Chris says, his dimpled smile in full bloom as he sits beside you, closer than necessary. Your legs touch, and neither of you move away.

You chuckle, nodding. "It's the simple joys, isn't it?"

"Exactly." He leans back, stretching his legs out. Chris takes a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the crowd before meeting yours. “So,” he says after a moment, followed by your name. “Tell me more about yourself.”

You share details of your work, your hobbies, your dreams for the future. Chris listens intently, asking questions and sharing bits of his own life in return. The more you talk, the more you realize how much you have in common. It feels natural, easy in a way that few connections ever do.

"The kitchen is my battlefield," he admits. "Every service is a challenge. Precision, speed, creativity—all under fire." He pauses. “The restaurant business is tough though,” he continues. “Long hours, high pressure, almost always on call. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

"Sounds intense." Your heart twitches with empathy.

"It is." His brown eyes lock onto yours. "I left home, traveled to work in kitchens across the globe. Each one, a step to hone my skills, to chase better opportunities."

"How long have you been here?”

“Almost 10 months. I probably wouldn’t have stayed as long if Dani didn’t also live here. We’ve been mates since college, since our first restaurant jobs working as servers. She connected me with some of the top restaurants in the city when I arrived and I was her first choice when Chef Jax left.”

“Must be difficult, always being so far from home," you say, feeling the weight of his sacrifices.

"Yes. And sometimes lonely," he confesses, "but necessary. You must feel the same way."

You nod, your own struggles rising to the surface. "Running a business, being a woman in charge—it's like walking a tightrope. Balancing work, personal life...it's a lot."

"Is it worth it?" His question is gentle, probing.

"Every day." Determination pulses within you. "I love the rewards, helping clients create moments they’ll never forget."

"Respect," Chris says, raising his cup to you. "At the end of the day, that’s what makes it worthwhile.” He smiles at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Finding your passion, and pursuing it with everything you’ve got. That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it? That drive, it's what makes us...us."

"Thanks." Warmth blooms in your chest. You sip your lemonade, savoring the shared kinship. “It is.” You return his smile, struck by the intensity of his gaze, the warmth and understanding there. “I’m glad we see it the same way.”

“Me too.” Chris leans closer, just a fraction, but it makes you stop breathing all the same. “Something tells me we see a lot of things the same way.” You bite your bottom lip. He raises his cup in between the two of you. "Here's to our battles, then," he toasts, clinking his cup against yours.

"To victories, big and small," you reply, leaning back against the bench and returning your gaze to the crowd.

Shortly after, you continue your journey through the market, threading through the crowd with Chris by your side. A brush of his hand against yours, fleeting but electric, sends a shiver up your spine. You glance at him and catch the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Chris stops at a booth selling artisanal breads, inhaling deeply. “Fresh-baked bread. Is there any better smell?”

The warm, yeasty scent fills your nostrils, a comfort and a temptation.

"Let's get a loaf," Chris suggests, already reaching for his wallet.

"No, I shouldn't." You hold back a laugh. "Carbs are my nemesis."

"Nonsense." He waves off your protest with a dismissive hand. His gaze sweeps over your body. "You have nothing to worry about." His words, light and teasing, make you blush.

After a beat, he finally pulls his eyes away from you and smiles at the vendor. “We’ll take a small loaf of the brown bread, please.”

“Chris, you don’t have to—”

“My treat.” He winks. He hands the vendor some cash and turns back to you, a small, crusty loaf in his grasp.

"Here," he says, tearing off a chunk and offering it to you. His eyes twinkle, that familiar mischief there. "Try it."

You reach for the bread—but he pulls it back, shaking his head. Your brow furrows, confused, until he brings the bread to your lips. Heart pounding, you open your mouth, let him feed you. Your eyes lock. Chris slides the bread into your mouth, his fingertips brushing gingerly on your lips.

The bread is soft, moist, delicious, a hint of rosemary coupled with a hint of sweetness making it dance on your tongue. He watches you intently as you chew, eyes darkening. You swallow hard, hyper-aware of him in a way you’ve never been with anyone else.

You feel a crumb on your lower lip. Chris brushes his thumb over your lip with a gentle touch, lingering just a moment too long. Then, with deliberate slowness, he brings his thumb to his mouth, tasting the crumb, his eyes never leaving yours. A jolt of desire shoots through you as he sucks the crumb away, tongue flicking over his thumb. You feel a twitch between your legs.

Chris lowers his hand, but doesn’t step back. His eyes smolder into yours.

The market buzzes around you, but in this bubble of intimacy, it's just Chris, the bread, and the heat creeping up your neck.

"Good, right?" he asks, his voice a low hum that vibrates through you.

"Delicious," you agree, the word barely a whisper.

He steps closer, staring at your mouth. He brings his eyes back up to yours. There’s a question there, lingering in his gaze, that makes your heart pound even harder than it already is. Do you dare push this further, throw caution to the wind and see where this undeniable attraction might lead?

You are snapped out of your trance when a pre-teen carelessly bumps into you.

“Sorry ma’am!” he calls over his shoulder, barely sparing a glance for the impact he had on you before running off to catch up with his friends.

You turn in the direction he runs off in, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Ma’am???” you ask incredulously as you watch him flee. “How old does he think I am? Fifty?” You turn back to Chris, shaking your head. “Fucking kids….” you add under your breath.

Chris can’t contain his laughter as he tears off another piece of bread and pops it into his mouth.

You can’t help but join in, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders. It’s refreshing to be able to let go and laugh with Chris. He splits what remains of the loaf in half and hands it to you.

“Fucking kids,” he echos with a smirk as he starts walking to the next booth. “Sometimes,” he says as he chews, “I wish I could just stick my foot out and trip them. I’ve come close a few times.” He pauses, contemplating his own words before adding, “But just the obnoxious ones though.” He grins.

You chuckle at his words, feeling grateful for this light moment amidst the charged atmosphere. “That’s most of them!” He nods enthusiastically.

As you follow him to the next booth, you catch yourself stealing glances at Chris, noticing the way his black t-shirt clings to the sweat on his toned frame and how his easy grin lights up his face.

Laughter bubbles up between the two of you as you continue to walk, trading jokes that feel like secrets, flirting in the spaces between words. Each laugh, each smile shared, feels like another layer peeled back, another step closer.

As you turn a corner, a sudden gust of wind sends a flurry of paper menus flying from a nearby booth. Without missing a beat, Chris reaches out, his reflexes quick as lightning, and catches them mid-air. He hands the menus back to the flustered vendor with a charming smile.

"Smooth," you tease, impressed by his agility.

Chris shrugs casually, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and faux-pride. "Years of dodging flying plates and towels in the kitchen prepared me for this moment."

You laugh at his response, feeling a sense of ease settling between you.

The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the farmers' market. You glance at your watch and startle.

"I was only supposed to be here for two hours," you murmur, more to yourself than to Chris. Time has unraveled, spooling out in a sweet, endless thread since your unexpected meetup. "Did I mess up your day?" The question slips out before you can stop it.

Chris' laugh is light, carefree. "Nah. I had planned to join a pick-up soccer game, but there’ll be another one next week. This," he gestures between the two of you with a sly smile, "is definitely the highlight of my day."

Relief flutters inside you, mingling with something warmer, something that makes your heart drum a little faster. He didn't mind the change of plans. He preferred this—preferred you.

"Can you stay for a late lunch/early dinner?" His invitation is casual, but his eyes are earnest, hopeful. “My apology for disrupting your plans.”

"Sure," you reply, trying to mirror his ease, despite the flurry in your chest. “And I’m glad for the disruption. This is one of the best days I’ve had in ages.”

You walk together to the edge of the market where a dozen food trucks have lined up. He navigates the trucks with an expert eye, visiting his favorites and selecting one dish from each with a decisive nod. Korean barbecue from one, grouper tacos from another. He also buys loaded pulled pork cups, samosas, Kobe beef sliders, and spring rolls. The scents intermingle, a promise of flavors yet to dance on your tongue. He has an easy rapport with the staff at each truck. They all know him and like him.

While he waits for his orders, you wander to the booth of your favorite local small-batch winery, the last tendrils of sunlight glinting off the bottles. You choose a light red wine you think will pair well with the symphony of tastes he’s selected.

Chris finds a secluded spot in the grassy field by the lake. You sit close together, the array of food laid out before you. He examines the bottle of wine.

"Perfect choice," Chris approves. You share food and trade sips of wine. Although there are no cups, it doesn't matter. The bottle tilts, glass meets lips, a shared indulgence straight from the source. It's intimate, this passing back and forth.

"Good?" he asks, his gaze following the trail of the bottle from your lips to his.

"Better than good," you say, the truth easy in the space between you.

You eat, you talk, laughter and bites exchanged under the boughs of whispering trees. Each mouthful is a revelation, each word a brick in the bridge you're building together.

Shit, you think to yourself. You like him. There's no use denying the tingling in your veins, the way your body leans toward his with a mind of its own, the quiver between your legs. You are falling for this handsome, charming, passionate man; and from the way he's gazing at you, it seems the feeling might be mutual? But what now?

"Chris..." You begin, faltering, not sure what you're asking, what you're confessing.

He waits, patient, his brown eyes steady. You let the moment stretch, let the silence speak, hoping he understands the language of your hesitation.

"Uhm…thank you…for today," you finally say, because gratitude is safe, because it's true.

"Anytime," he replies, the words simple, but they feel like a promise.

After your make-shift dinner, you and Chris quietly make your way to the farmers' market entrance. The day's end brings a hush, vendors packing up, voices melding into a soft hum. Your steps slow, neither of you eager to say goodbye.

"Today was..." Chris starts, then stops. He looks at you, that dimpled smile holding back words not meant for the crowded space.

"Unexpected," you supply, your voice barely above a whisper. You mean it in the best way possible. There is a shared understanding in the silence that follows, an intimate conversation without a single word spoken.

A small crowd bustles by, forcing Chris to step closer. His warmth radiates, the spicy-citrusy scent of him wrapping around you like the evening breeze. It's a closeness born of hours spent laughing, tasting, sharing—suddenly too much and yet, still not enough.

His hand lifts, fingers gentle on your left cheek, while his lips brush the skin on your right cheek with a chaste kiss that sends ripples through you. "For luck," he murmurs, but his eyes tell a different story—one of longing, of possibilities.

"I’ll see you at the wine pairing next week?," you manage, your heart hammering against your ribcage. The simple touch lingers, branding you with the promise of more.

"Definitely. And maybe sooner?" he suggests, hope threading through his words. His hand falls away, leaving a ghostly trail of heat in its wake.

"Maybe." You smile, feeling the tug of a thousand maybes stretching out before you. He smiles back with a nod before walking off towards the parking lot.

There’s a tightness in your chest as you watch Chris disappear into the lengthening shadows. Your walk home feels surreal, each step punctuated by memories of his laughter, the tender scrutiny of his gaze, the careful way he fed you bread, his thumb brushing your lip.

His eyes, dark and fathomless, had seen you today—really seen you. His lips, curved in easy smiles or concentration as he explained a recipe, linger in your thoughts. Pink, puffy, kissable. His body, lean and capable, movements sure and practiced, whether handling delicate herbs or guiding you through the crowd.

And his hands—those skilled, strong hands that knew just how to coax flavors into being—had touched you with a gentleness that belied their strength.

Excitement courses through you, mingled with a hint of fear. What does this growing pull between you mean? Where could it lead?

Three blocks. Three blocks to consider every glance, each word, the feel of his hands and lips on you. By the time you reach your apartment building, your mind is awash with the taste of wine and the image of Christopher Bahng, chef and enigma, who has effortlessly stirred something deep within you.

The Wine Pairing

You step into Saffron & Thyme, the familiar jingle of the bell announcing your arrival. Your heart races with a combination of anticipation, excitement, and nervousness weaving together as you enter the intimate space. You've been here countless times before, but today feels different; today you're meeting Chris again.

Chris greets you at the entrance, his warm smile making your pulse quicken more. "Hey there." His voice is warm. He leans in, soft lips brushing your cheek, his light cologne drawing you closer. The kiss is subtle enough to be professional, yet lingers for just a second too long. It sends a ripple of warmth down your spine.

"Hi." Your voice sounds steadier than you feel.

"Ready to taste some great wines?" he asks.

"Absolutely," you reply, eager to dive into the world of aromas and flavors, hoping it will steady the flutter in your stomach.

His light touch on your lower back guides you through the crowded restaurant to the private dining room. The door closes behind you, enveloping the room in a calm silence. You make your way to a polished wood table lined with an array of bottles and glasses, each glinting under the soft lights.

Chris uncorks the first bottle, the pop echoing slightly in the quiet room. He pours a buttery Chardonnay, the golden liquid swirling in the glass. You breathe in rich vanilla and toasted oak before taking a sip, the silky wine coating your tongue.

"Mmm, I love the creaminess and hint of green apple. It would complement the herb-crusted halibut nicely."

Chris nods, making a note. "Great catch on those flavors. Let's try the Sauvignon Blanc next." He hands you a glass, fingertips grazing yours, electricity sparking at his touch. The wine dances on your palate, bright citrus and grassy notes awakening your senses. "The acidity and herbaceous undertones would enhance the flavor of the octopus dish."

You smile. "My thoughts exactly.”

"Try this one," he suggests, his tone playful yet attentive. He swirls a glass with a golden liquid that catches the light, handing it to you with those callused, dexterous fingers.

You bring the glass to your nose, inhaling deeply. "Peaches," you pronounce, "and a hint of honey." The fragrance is robust, promising.

"Spot on," he praises, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his dimpled smile. "And the taste?"

You sip, letting the wine coat your palate. "Crisp, with a slight oakiness. It's bold, but just a bit overpowering."

"Sounds like someone I know," Chris teases, his gaze holding yours for a moment too long. That spark, that undeniable connection zips between you, electric and thrilling.

"Which dish are we pairing this with?" you ask, redirecting the charge into something tangible, something safe.

"The citrus-infused sea bass," he asserts confidently. "The fruit notes will complement it nicely."

"Eh, let's not overpower the sea bass," you argue, reaching for a bottle with a label that promises citrus and sea breeze whispers.

"Trust me, it needs a slight challenge, not a mirror," Chris counters, selecting a more daring companion, his hand brushing yours as he passes you the glass.

"Bold choice," you concede after a taste, impressed by his skill to balance harmony with excitement – in wine and, seemingly, in the moments you share.

"Life's too short for boring pairings," he says, a twinkle in his eye that suggests he's not just talking about wine.

"Cheers to that," you laugh, clinking glasses with him, feeling the dance of near-confessions and restrained desires in every sip. “Shall we move on to the reds?”

Chris uncorks a decadent Malbec, deep garnet with an inky core. You swirl and sniff, relishing the luscious aromas of ripe plum, cocoa, and leather. The full-bodied wine envelops your tongue in dark fruit and spice.

"Oh…This is sexy. It needs a dish that can stand up to its boldness. The coffee-rubbed filet mignon, perhaps?"

"You read my mind," Chris grins, honeyed eyes locking with yours. "A wine this sensual deserves an equally alluring match."

Heat rises in your cheeks as you take another indulgent sip, imagining the tender filet paired with this captivating wine. And the bewitching man before you, his passionate expertise making the task at hand even more tantalizing...

You swirl the wine in your glass, watch as it clings to the sides before settling into a still pool of burgundy. "I never imagined I'd find myself so invested in the delicate art of pairings," you confess, the scent of oak and berry rising to meet you.

"Wasn't part of the plan?" Chris asks, leaning against the table, his expressive eyes searching yours.

"Plans change." You take a sip, savor the complexity. "Originally, I was going to be a dancer."

The revelation sparks interest in his eyes. "Really? What happened?"

"Life, I guess. And practicality over passion. I was the best at my home studio and didn’t really have to try to be at the top. But that wasn’t the case when I got to the dance program at NYU. Everyone was ‘the best’. And I wasn’t willing to make the sacrifices to stay at the top. You know, starving myself, giving up a personal life, coming on to the people making the selections. It wasn’t for me and I switched to Business and Hospitality. It was a better fit. But what about you? Was it always cooking?"

Chris nods, pours another wine, this one lighter, more playful. "Always. Though there were moments I thought of giving it all up. To travel. See what food stories I could gather from around the world."

"Food stories..." you murmur, enchanted by the idea of Chris collecting flavors like memories.

"Yeah." He smiles, a dimple flashing. "Every dish has a tale, right?"

"Right." You agree, warmth spreading through you.

The banter returns with the next pour, a dry white that makes your nose wrinkle. "Ah, no love for the crisp ones?" Chris teases, catching your expression.

"More like a respectful disagreement," you retort, playfulness bubbling up. "I prefer my wines like I prefer my evenings—rich and full-bodied."

"Rich and full-bodied, hmm?" His grin is mischievous, and suddenly the air between you is charged again, heavy with unsaid thoughts.

"Exactly." You hold his gaze, heart pounding. The moment stretches.

Chris reaches for another bottle, his hand brushing against yours. He pours a rich, velvety Pinot Noir, the aroma of ripe cherries and earthy undertones filling the air. "This one reminds me of you," he says softly with a playful grin. "Elegant, complex, and utterly captivating."

You blush, taking a sip of the wine, its silky texture caressing your tongue. "Flatterer," you tease, your eyes meeting his over the rim of the glass. "I could say the same about you, Chef Bahng. A perfect balance of boldness and finesse, with just a hint of mystery."

Chris laughs, the sound warm and inviting. "I'll take that as a compliment." He leans closer, fingers resting delicately on your wrist, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I have to admit, you've intrigued me from the moment we met. There's something about you that's just...irresistible." His fingers stroke gingerly across the skin on the back of your hand. 

Your heart races, the air between you electric with tension. You find yourself drawn to him, your faces inches apart, his lips tantalizingly close. Just as he’s about to close the distance, your phone rings, shattering the moment.

You both pull back, startled by the intrusion. The spell snaps, leaving you both adrift in what might have been. Your hand jerks, sloshing wine onto the pristine tablecloth as you scramble for the device. "I have to—" you start to apologize.

At that same moment, a server enters the room, approaching Chris with a hushed urgency that pulls him away. Chris gives you an apologetic smile, excusing himself to handle the issue in the kitchen.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. The almost-kiss lingers in your mind, the taste of the wine and the heat of Chris's proximity still on your lips. You silently curse the ill-timed phone call, wondering what might have happened if the moment hadn't been broken. You sigh, taking another sip of the Pinot Noir, its flavors now forever entwined with the memory of this charged moment.

You swipe the screen to answer the phone, pressing it to your ear. "Hello?" Your voice, a steady calm that betrays none of the disappointment curling in your chest. On the other end, Marcus' brisk tones rattle off some issue with a supplier—a hiccup in the rhythm of your carefully tuned world.

"Understood," you say, watching Chris from the corner of your eye through the open door as he converses with the server at the other end of the restaurant, his expression focused, hands gesturing precisely. The server nods, scribbling notes onto a pad.

"Will handle it first thing tomorrow," you assure Marcus, then end the call with a tap. Silence falls, save for the faint clink of glass and murmur of voices from the main dining area. As you set the phone down, Chris approaches the private dining room, his hands tucked into his pockets.

As he re-enters the room, closing the door behind him, he gives you a small smile, his eyes filled with a mix of apology and longing. You offer a tight smile. A shared awkwardness hangs in the air, a veil too thin to hide the undercurrents.

"Sorry about that," you both say in unison, then laugh—a release valve for the tension.

"Timing," you begin, but the word dangles, unfinished.

"Impeccable," Chris concludes, his dimpled grin returning. It's infectious, the way it crinkles the corners of his deep brown eyes. "It seems like we keep getting interrupted, doesn't it?" He sits in the chair next to you.

You nod, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips. "It's like the universe is conspiring against us," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Chris chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. The gentle touch sends a jolt of electricity through your body, and you find yourself leaning into his hand.

"Maybe it's a sign," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. "That we should stop fighting this...whatever this is between us."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. The rational part of your brain screams at you to keep things professional, to maintain the boundaries you've worked so hard to establish. But the way Chris is looking at you, the heat of his touch on your skin, makes it impossible to resist.

"Chris," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "We...we shouldn't..."

But even as the words leave your mouth, you find yourself gravitating towards him, towards his lips, drawn in by the magnetic pull of his presence. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Tell me to stop," he breathes, his lips hovering just above yours. "Tell me you don't want this too, and I'll back away. No hard feelings. And we’ll just focus on the work." His words are a faint whisper.

But you can't. The desire coursing through your veins is too strong, the need for his touch too overwhelming. There’s some force slowly beckoning your lips closer to his.

The door creaks, the sound echoing through the room and nudging you back to reality. You and Chris both sit back as Nat enters the room.

Her eyes dart quickly between you and Chris. She remains silent for a second, but you catch the glint of understanding in her gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nat says finally, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “I got everything sorted out with the band. Thought I could help out with the pairings. Unless you’re good?”

This is work, you are a professional, and you need to exercise restraint, you remind yourself. “That’s great news, Nat. And we can definitely use your help.” You try to compose yourself and fidget with the sleeve of your shirt. Chris looks equally flustered, the tips of his ears red, his eyes flitting between you and Nat as he also tries to regain his professional demeanor.

“We were just…discussing the final wine selections,” Chris adds, running his fingers through his curls. “There were a couple we couldn’t agree on. Having a third opinion would be useful.”

Nat raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying the excuse. "Right. Well, don't let me keep you from your...discussion." She takes the seat across from you.

"Chris, would you show Nat the wines we've been considering?" You keep your voice steady despite the lingering awkwardness in the air.

"Of course." His dimpled smile reappears effortlessly as he turns to Nat, pouring the wines with a skilled hand that betrays years of experience.

Nat nods appreciatively, taking delicate sips, her brows furrowing in concentration as Chris explains the options and the potential dishes they’ll be paired with. While she agrees with you about the sea bass, she and Chris seem to have similar sentiments about the other pairings you and he disagreed on.

Chris excuses himself to fetch another bottle from the cellar, his athletic frame disappearing through the doorway. When it’s just you and Nat in the space, you pretend to review your notes on the ipad. It’s a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact as you feel Nat’s gaze burning into you. You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s smirking. 

"Biiiiitch! You said he was good looking, but I think that’s an understatement.” Nat's whisper breaks the silence. She leans in conspiratorially even though the two of you are alone. “He’s fucking hot!” She sticks her tongue out and fans herself dramatically. “Sparks flying, much?" Her tone light, teasing.

You snort softly, shaking your head. You glance up at her. "It's not like that. We're working."

"Uh huh. And I'm the Queen of the Outback." Nat's chuckle bubbles up. "Come on, it's obvious. He's gorgeous, you're single, and you’re clearly into each other. What's stopping you?"

"Professionalism?" You try for stern, but it comes out more like a question.

"Right." Nat rolls her eyes playfully. "And I'm not sitting here sensing enough chemistry between the two of you to blow up a meth lab."

"Nat..." You shake your head.

“At the very least, you need to sleep with him.” You ignore her and add some notes on your ipad. “C’mon. When’s the last time you had a good fuck? He’d be a good way to release all that pent up stress…” She downs the remaining wine in her glass, watching you closely for a reaction. You give her a pointed look, silently conveying your disapproval of her suggestion.

"Okay, okay," she concedes with a wink. "But if you won't, can I? Let me take one for the team. My gawd, that ass…"

"Nat!" You cut her off sharply, just as Chris steps back into the room, a new bottle cradled in his arm. Your heart stutters at the sight of him, his dark hair tousled and his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Talking shop?" Chris asks, settling beside you, unaware of the conversation he’s just walked in on. His proximity sends a rush of heat through your body, and you try to focus on anything else but him.

"Always," you lie smoothly, forcing your focus onto the labels of the wine bottles closest to you and inwardly cursing Nat for the near disaster. But your mind is consumed with thoughts of Chris and the charged energy between you that seems to intensify with each passing moment. “Nat was just complimenting your….suggestions.”

Nat nodded with a devious grin. “Yeah, they’re real firm, uhm, solid choices.” You shoot her a look. 

"Well I have one more potential for the final course. Let's taste this one," Chris suggests, and your fingertips brush as he hands you a glass. A jolt, electric, undeniable. Yet all you do is nod, sip, and pretend it's just about the wine. Just work.

Nothing more.

Especially as Nat has unintentionally brought you a newfound awareness of how others might be perceiving your interactions with Chris. And the last thing you want is for someone to label you as ‘unprofessional’. It’s the fucking kiss of death for woman’s career.

"Definitely a contender," you murmur, setting down the glass with deliberate care. “Nat?”

"Agreed," she responds. She takes another sip. “I might like it more than the other option.”

“It’s cheaper than the other one, but it tastes expensive. It might work well with your crowd,” Chris says, his voice low and rich.

The session progresses, each wine tasted under the guise of scrutiny, yet with each pour, the air grows heavier, thick with unvoiced thoughts.

You catch yourself watching the way Chris' fingers grip the stem of the glass, the assured grace of his movements. He notices your gaze, smiles that damn dimpled smile, and you quickly avert your eyes to the notes before you. You know that crossing this line could jeopardize everything you've worked for. You have to stay professional, no matter how strong the attraction between the two of you may be. You have a job to do, and you won't let anything, not those dimples, that ass  - not even your own heart - get in the way of that.

So you push down your feelings, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. You make your final selections, then discuss the next steps in the planning process.

"Shall we call it a day?" Chris asks when the last bottle stands empty. Your eyes lock for a fraction too long, but you nod, snapping the professional mask back into place.

"We’ll send the list of options to Marcus tomorrow and you and I can connect later on this week to confirm the wines he’d like to move forward with,” you suggest, feeling the weight of those deep brown eyes on you as you write on the tablet. “Will that give you enough time to source the number of bottles we’ll need for the event?”

"Sure. While we wait for the okay from the big boss, I’ll confirm with my suppliers that they have the inventory and ask them to set it aside for us as a favor." Chris's tone is steady, but the undercurrent is there, a whisper of something more.

"Good." You stand, smoothing out your shirt, a futile attempt at organizing the chaos he stirs within you. "And we should finalize the event layout."

"Right." Chris' agreement comes with a subtle shift in his stance, closing the gap just enough to keep the connection alive.

“I’ll text it to you tomorrow?”

“I have to run,” Nat interrupts. You’d already forgotten she was still there. “My meter expired 10 minutes ago and I don’t need another ticket. Great to meet you Chris. Boss lady, I’ll see you in the morning.” She’s out the door before either of you can respond.

You turn to follow her out, but Chris’ voice stops you when he calls your name. The way he says it, low and intimate in his accent, makes your heart skip a beat.

You look back at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes?"

He hesitates for a moment, as if searching for the right words. "I just wanted to say... I really enjoy spending time with you. Not just for work, but... in general."

You feel a flush creep up your neck, your skin tingling with the implication of his words. "I feel the same way," you admit, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.

For a long moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze. The air between you feels electric, charged with all the things you want to say but can't.

Finally, you force yourself to break the spell. "I should go," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be in touch about the final arrangements."

Chris nods, a small, understanding smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be waiting."

With that, you turn to leave the room, but not without one last glance over your shoulder. Chris watches you go, and in his eyes, you see the reflection of your own tangled emotions.

You and Chris aim to maintain a professional distance even if the attraction between you is undeniable.

It's just work, you remind yourself. But the lie tastes more bitter than any dry wine on your lips.

*************************

Would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading.

[cookinguptales]

time to shill for Big Salt!!!

Okay, so like I said in my last post, I recently became a ~Vitassium Ambassador~, which is a fancy way of saying that I shilled for this company for free for so long that now they're paying me to do it.

In salt. Much like a deer.

Anyway.

Vitassium is SaltStick's line of products specifically for POTS, EDS, Cystic Fibrosis, Vasovagal Syncope, and other forms of autonomic dysfunction. Essentially speaking, SaltStick has been making electrolyte products for years, and when they realized that a lot of their patients buying them were doing it for medical reasons, they started doing research into creating products specifically for that purpose. And that's how the Vitassium line was born.

Vitassium generally has more salt and less magnesium/calcium/potassium than SaltStick's other electrolyte products, which is good if you need a lot of salt and you don't want to take too high a dose of the rest. Personally, I tend to use a mixture of both of their lines so I can get a little calcium/magnesium boost sometimes but more salt other times. (The amount of potassium is fairly similar in both lines, with a little more in the SaltStick line.)

Either way, it has a lot less sugar than Liquid IV, which I get sick off of due to sugar sensitivities. Like... *googles* 11g of sugar in Liquid IV vs. 2g of sugar in Vitassium, with the same amount of salt in each serving. I have to be pretty careful about my sugar intake, and I suppose I can't speak for everyone, but my stomach handles Vitassium a lot better than most of the other alternatives on the market.

So I've been using it for several years now and I'm really happy with their products! Like -- I may now officially be a shill for Big Salt, but I don't plan on lying or exaggerating anything here. I use their products every day, and sometimes that's the only way I can manage to take a shower.

(My fellow POTS/EDS-sufferers know, the shower struggle is real. lmao)

Anyway, they just sent me one of everything in their Vitassium line. They didn't actually ask me to show it off, but I'm doing it anyway because this is my blog and I cannot be stopped.

From left to right, we have a bottle of their electrolyte capsules (these are sugar-free extended-release salt pills with a bit of potassium added), both flavors of their electrolyte fastchews (chewable electrolyte candies that provide quick relief... think salty sweettarts), a cute bottle full of packets of their electrolyte drink mix, sample packs of the fastchews, and some stickers.

Personally, I mostly use the fastchews. I've tried salt capsules in the past and had some stomach upset, but now that they sent these to me for free, I guess I'll try them out again. The fastchews are basically sour candy full of salt lmao. (They also have about 2g of sugar per serving, just like the drink mix.) They really are effective, though, so I tend to take them as needed throughout the day.

I usually just keep a bottle of them in my purse, but the sample size bags are resealable and fit well in pockets, bags, etc. I'm happy that they sent me some little sample bags because now I can refill them, haha.

I used to just buy the normal SaltStick fastchews, and my go-to flavors in that line are orange, wild berry, and lemon-lime! I haven't tried the mango because I'm allergic, the peach is okay if very sour, the coconut pineapple is a nice piña colada taste but a little sweet for me, and I really hate the watermelon ones!

(Look, I promised to be honest with you. lmao)

The Vitassium fastchews are newer, and they only come in two flavors so far. I always buy the fruit punch because I despise artificial grape flavor. They just gave me a bunch of grape ones, so I tried them. Good for what they are, but I still hate grape.

(Do any of my chronically ill followers want these? lmk)

The drink mix is the newest Vitassium product! I like it quite a bit; the relief is quicker when you drink it vs. eat it, and speaking as someone who generally hates drink mixes, the flavor is pretty good.

I've tried both the fruit punch and the pink lemonade, and I think I prefer the pink lemonade. The flavor suits the salt a little better, imo, and I think weirdly it mixes a little better?

I usually buy the drink mix in the canisters because it's cheaper that way and produces less waste (the canister pictured there is one I already had) but the packets are very handy to keep in your bag. They're easy to tear open and even when you tear off the whole top, the opening is small enough that it pours smoothly into small-necked bottles. I like to put some ice in mine and shake it up.

(Side note: Vitassium has specifically designed all their packaging to be as easy to open and use as possible because they know that so many of their customers have arthritis, EDS, and other connective tissue disorders. Which, as someone with EDS, I truly appreciate.)

Finally, one thing I genuinely like about Vitassium is that they try to make their products as accessible as possible for their customers who use them for medical reasons. They have something called the Vitassium Club, which allows registered users who have a medical condition to get 25% off all their electrolyte products. You don't have to get a doctor's note or anything like that, just send in a quick online form and wait for them to change the status of your account.

That brings the cost of the product down considerably for the people who need it most, which is good because honestly? Electrolyte boosters add up fast when you need to consume that much salt every day.

Uhhhh, I think that's everything for now! If you have any questions, lmk! I'm fairly passionate about this kind of thing because when I was first diagnosed with POTS/EDS like... god, 15 years ago now, they didn't have anything like this. I remember struggling to develop a diet that worked for me with no one to teach me and honestly? That fucking sucked. I don't want anyone to be in that position.

So now here in 2023, I'm happy to pass on any chronic illness-related tips I have. Like drink Vitassium! And add salt while you're cooking, not at the end! The flavor will be less strong that way! And a packet of sugar-free hot cocoa mix will often have as much sodium in it as a bag of chips!

Stay salty, friends. 🧂💜😎

[boygirl-wizard]

what if you replaced all the meat and bones in a person with water, what then, would it fill them up like the videos when they put the toys on the end of hoses and they get real big and jiggly would it be like a big fat skin balloon on the grass how much would it take to pop it skin is pretty thick how thin can it stretch. what if i put a human in a hydraulic press what then. would the police come, would i go to jail what if it was my human flesh. what if the person was already dead what if it was morally sourced. we often think of bones as very dry but they are allways wet inside your flesh what if you took out your bones and juiced them what would that taste like i imagine like chicken juices but im not sure human and chicken are the same type of meat. did you know humans can see more shades of green then any other colour because we need to see the leaves, you can eat most leaves you see on the street i wouldnt recomend it they probably taste bad lemons are a great fruit they taste good and are a nice colour. berry compot is a good and easy dish to make its just berries and put them in a pan then maybe some lemon juice maybe sugar maybe not then you just cook that down and its so good imagine some nice pancakes with icecream and maple syrup and a nice berry compot. raspberries are my favourite berry imagine raspberry and lemon sorbet they are my favorite berry because they are nice and balanced and

meepkorpjjjjjjjjjjjjballs

they have balanced with sweet and sour they are a nice colour however they are expensive strawberries are not as expensive however they ar enot as good particularly frozen as they are too big grapes are good but only green grapes when they are crunchy and crisp they are like eyeballs but eyeballs are tough and chewy grapefruit is quite bitter mangos are the best fruit they are versitile and freeze well they last a while and you can put them in many dishes the taste and texture is sublime you can suck on the seed when you are done and it is good for everyone blood can be substituted for eggs in baking at a ratio of 1/4 cup blood to one egg it has to be cooked thoroughlly to prevent spread of bacteria cucumber is my favorite vegtable because it is crunchy and green it is not soft or soggy it is savoury watermellon

can you get novelty 9/11 things like things off the areoplane do you ever think about atoms everything is very small like unimaginabbly small we are a meer speck in the pond of time oneday teh world will blow up and all of this will be for nothing and maybe im okay with that colours are wild i am jelious of mantis shrimp my head is filled with worms i want to decay and become one with the dirt i am, at heart a bug i am a creature, an insect, and oneday i will decay back into the insects and worms from creatures i have come and to creatures i will return not spiders though snakes have four seperate jaw bones so they can basically dislocate their jaws and eat their prey whoever invented numbers did a good job with 8 really looks like how its pronounced everyone should be happy all the time i want to live in a big tree i want to be a tree greens and browns filled with my own special blood and creatures i want to feel the wind in my brittle body and be inherantly connected to everything alone we are nothing but together we are everything unions are the best sign of a good society they are th ebackbones of workplaces i want to live in a pond with the slime it would fix me.

the early internet ewas so fun i want to chew on cables in 2005

[hirukochan]

Aaah i’m the fragrances anon. thank you for the answer. always happy to read writers rambles about their ocs!

so if you don’t mind…i have another heehee

for freya, dove, harrie, and snape!

What are some of their favorite desserts or treats?

What are their favorite/must have purchase from honeydukes?

What type of tea is their favorite/go to (green tea? earl grey? roasted black? do they like it hot or iced?) and what stuff do they put in their tea? (lemon?milk?sugar content?honey?)

*inserting my opinion: black jasmine with any citrus sweetened ice tea is superior*🤭 you can share about yours too!

i just love reading about the little things from ocs behind story. for me things like this just added more depth to their story🤌🤌🤌 -🤍🤍🤍

Hi again!

Freya

1. She likes a nice Eton Mess with fresh berries but I also like to think her friend Luise made her a proper Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte once and she loves it ever since! She has Luise make her some German dessert whenever they visit each other. Bienenstich is her second favourite! It’s a scrumptious cake made from a yeast dough with an almond-sugar crust that caramelises while baking and is filled with a vanilla creme.

2. Skeletal sweets - she’d find it extremely funny and her friends always wonder why??? Are you laughing??? Also the Chocolate Skeletons.

3. Any tea Snape makes. Snape’s teas are tiny little potions! The teas he gave her for Christmas are her all time favourite. Especially the for studying tea blend he made for her with nettles, mint, rosemary and dried pieces of orange peel. With a bit of honey or pure.

Dove

She is a bit tricky, she’s a reader-insert after all but in my mind it’s this

1. She doesn’t really have one…chocolate cake might be. Light fruit tarts. She doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth because she was never allowed to have sugar.

2. She wasn't allowed to go to Honeydukes so Snape would have to take her and keep encouraging her to pick something for herself. She’d probably be way too overwhelmed and afraid and Snape would end up telling the owner to put together a small bag with his best selling candies and they take a stroll around the forest surrounding Honeydukes while they try the different treats. I think she’d like the no-melt-icecream. Going to Fortescue’s ice cream parlour with her sisters was a fond memory and while it’s not bitter sweet it would remind her of their utter joy that day. She’d find the ice-mice funny! And probably also the Glacial Snow Flakes.

3. Unsweetened rose petal tea, both as a hot tea with a few treats or as an iced tea in the garden, watching over the girls 🥰

Harrie

1. Treacle tart. It’s Treacle tart

2. The standards: Chocolate Frogs, Chocolate Wands, Sugar Quills and some Pumpkin Pasties for late night snack cravings.

3. I don’t think Harrie is much of a tea drinker. Maybe some heavily sweetened wild berry tea that tastes like molten candy 🤣

Snape

1. White chocolate mousse. The Hogwarts house elves make a big bowl everyday for dinner. It sits on the teacher’s table and all professors know better than to try and touch it. Snape gets defensive about his white chocolate mousse. Lockhart took some of it back in Harrie’s second year. Snape didn’t say anything at the time but all the other teachers audibly gasped and the next day he quite suddenly and unexpectedly fell ill with the nastiest cold Poppy had ever seen. 

Lockhart learnt two lessons from that: Don’t touch Snape’s chocolate mousse and don’t leave your cup unattended around Snape in the staff room.

2. White chocolate in any form it comes. And he is quite fond of the Peppermint Toads, both things he’d deny vehemently. No student ever sees him enter Honeydukes. He either goes in like ten minutes before closing on a wednesday or he sends an owl to pick up his order. Look, he needs his sugar rush to deal with the atrocious writing skills of his students.

3. Despite being a terrible tea snob his favourite is a cup of scorching hot, proper builder’s tea. Very strong black tea, very little milk, rarely any sugar. He drinks it without letting it cool down enough. 

When his father was drinking it in the kitchen, tiny Sev knew it would be a good day so he has gotten quite fond of it and continues to stock the same super cheap teabag his father had. 

Apart from that he likes a nice Oolong. He drinks it pure since adding anything would insult the flavour profile in his opinion. He takes his time to prepare it properly, re-brews it several times to get the most out of his tea, enjoying each new unique flavour with every re-brew. He doesn’t grade when drinking this tea. He just sits in his favourite spot and enjoys his tea. It’s a rare indulgence but one that keeps him sane. 

No iced tea. Never. It’s a sin against all tea in his eyes.

My favourite tea is Lady Grey! It’s a less bitter version of Earl Grey with dried lemon and orange peel. A bit of sugar, a little splash of milk and I’m happy.

I also love strawberry-mint tea but only as loose tea! That one makes a nice cold-brew tea as well. I drink often drink that during summer 🥰.

I don’t like pure jasmine tea but my favourite boba tea is green tea with jasmine!

[interdimensionalburnout]

>> [In the mess more sweets arrive! It's a bright orange Halloween-themed plastic bowl filled to the brim with bite-sized hard candies in transparent purple wrappers. The candies themselves are colorless and semi-opaque, a peek of colorful syrup showing at the center. The star note attached to the side of the bowl reads: 'Each hard-candy and syrup is flavored and paired differently; most batches of this candy are hand-sorted to make sure they're /good/ pairings but I thought you might have fun with some extra randomization. They're all flavors you'd find in a bag of Dum-Dums, so nothing /too/ crazy. Thought they'd be nice to have around! :^) -Mads'.]

>>You're quick to respond to the alert of Gilly, who's remained more or less in the same state of tense quiet she's been in since she came back to life. The blurred lines between intelligences you walk, brought about by your cybernetics and your psionics, has left you exposed to the palpable feeling of unease expressed by your AI crewmate, and you're happy to hear her say ANYTHING.

>>You're back in the mess, in time to intercept a halloween bowl, filled with halloween candies. These things remind you of a really dodgy "zero gravity" bowl you had an idea for once, the way the syrups seem caught in the murky orbs of clear candy. The explanation for these things only makes them trippier, and you feel inspired to dig the prototype out from under the cabinet. And then you run to your jacket harness, where your camera drone is mounted, and turn it on.

>Berri's posted a video of a device, one that's been built out of old waffle-iron parts, sloppily spliced together with a levitating weapon-display thingy from who-knows-where. It powers on with little fuss, sending a tiny ball, covered in what looks like little speakers into the air about a foot above the bowl. "Hey Mads! Thanks for the candy! You reminded me of a 'non-spillable bowl' I was working on that your candy would look so tight in."

>From it's tethered position, it emits a sort of shimmery field in a nearly perfect sphere, a semi-opaque ball of gray-tinted, energized air. A single crunch echoes from behind the camera, over the dim hum of the bowl, and then a piece of wrapped candy flies from out-of-frame, hitting the bowl and drifting into the center, losing speed before eventually just sort of drifting in a slow orbit around the emitter. "YESSSSSS" Right after, Berri can be seen scurrying in and dumping the entire bowl into the orb, where they spend the momentum settling into a lazy orbit around the emitter with the rest of the candy. "There! That'll keep this from spilling everywhere if the ship has to slam the E-Brakes again. Also, Lemon-Lime and orange, friggin amazing combo, thanks Mads!"

[psalacanthea]

@space-for-brains sure! I love to share my recipes :) Here it is. Synthesized from 3 different online blueberry pie recipes, so I won't claim it's original, but still good!

(I used a pre-made crust because I'm not a masochist)

Lavender-Blueberry Pie Ingredients:

2 pre-made pie crusts, or your own pie crust

1 small-med lemon

filling-

4 cups fresh blueberries (you could probably use up to 6 if you like more filling to crust ratio, just add 1/8th cup more sugar per cup of berries, and another tbsp of flour or starch)

1/2 cup granulated sugar

3 tbsp cornstarch

1 tbsp ap flour

1/4 tsp salt

1 and 1/2 tsp Food-Grade lavender buds

assembly-

Sugar for pie crust, if you like (i used big chunky finishing sugar cuz I like the crunch)

1 egg

Instructions:

Pre-heat oven to 425

Zest your lemon, being careful to not get any of the bitter pith. Add it, and juice half the lemon into a bowl. (i do my lemon first to make it easy to pick out seeds)

Add filling ingredients- blueberries, sugar, cornstarch, flour, salt, and lavender flowers- to the bowl.

Mash about 1/6th of the blueberries, to provide enough juice to make the filling ingredients stick to the berries. It should wet all your flour, sugar, and starch, making a more homogeneous mixture.

If you don't do this, it won't get all jammy and thick when you bake it.

Put your bottom pie crust into your pie pan, pressing the bottom and sides in lightly to make sure there's no air bubbles.

Add blueberry-lavender filling to bottom pie crust.

Add top crust (a lattice crust looks v nice on blueberry pie, and gives the filling a place to bubble up so it doesn't spill as much).

Seal the edges of the pie crust together, crimp.

Beat 1 egg, and brush onto the top and edge crust of the pie. Sprinkle crust with sugar if desired.

This is NOT a super sweet pie, so I do recommend some sugar even if all you have is granulated. (powdered sugar cannot be substituted for granulated sugar)

With a sheet pan on the bottom rack to catch any spillage, put the pie into your 425 pre-heated oven for 25 minutes or so.

After 25 minutes, turn down the heat to 375, and wrap the outer edge of the crust with tinfoil to control the browning.

Bake for 50-60 more minutes, until the filling is bubbling up and looks glossy and thick. It may spill over the crust. That's just a berry pie thing, it's perfectly fine. Giving the filling time to boil is how it gets nicely thickened instead of being all liquidy and sad.

Pull off the foil. If you like the crust darker, give it a few more minutes without the foil until it's just the color you like!

Remove pie from oven, then wait 4-5 hours or overnight before cutting. I know :(

But it's worth it! <3

if:

you like a sweeter pie- up the sugar to 2/3rds cup. this is NOT a super-sweet pie, because that's not how I like them. But it has a HUGE blueberry flavor and so much nice depth and interesting notes from the lemon and lavender.

you don't like pie- this filling would make great tarts, pastries, crumbles, and cobblers, too!

you don't like lavender- um at this point maybe just make a different pie

you REALLY like lavender- add another 1/2 to 1 tsp of buds. It is a subtle flavor, adding herbal notes to the filling, and a lovely floral aftertaste.

The blueberry lavender pie Yesterday Me made for Today Me is very tasty. The lavender adds a nice herbal note to the filling, a lovely aftertaste, and goes very well with the lemon and blueberry. Tastes very spring-ie.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test. 

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react. 

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

[foodieforthoughts]

Tumblr is hateful and it stopped putting your posts in my dash. ☹️ I miss seeing your stuff pop up. I figured maybe if I come over here and leave an Ask, Tumblr might remember that we’re mutuals. ❤️ 🤞🏻

So, Foodie……if you were to make dinner for Henry (or one of his characters) what would you cook? Would there be multiple courses? Dessert? Would you eat indoors or al fresco? What wine or cocktail would you pair with the meal?

Ugh! This site is so glitchy sometimes. But thank you for coming over to my blog sweetheart. And an even bigger thank you for leaving this amazing ask.

I hadn't really given much thought about this but with some good olé help from @agniavateira I think a list (more like tiny drabbles 😆) has been compiled. 😅 Hope you like it boo. ♥️

So let's begin? 🍽️

Henry

Being a homeboy, Henry prefers to stay home as much as possible whenever he is not filming. So if there were dates planned, it would be a nice backyard dinner on the back porch with the soft glow of string lights you had hung from the awning. Hailing from an island, he enjoys seafood and due to his rigorous fitness regime, you try to prepare something that wouldn't cause him to hit the gym for an extra hour the next day. You try to recreate the recipe of Spaghetti with Seafood Velouté and pair it with whiskey and nice engaging dinner conversation.

Syverson

When Syverson is home from his foreign deployment, cribbing about the MREs he had to consume while away, you try to feed your man as much home cooked meal as possible. He is a prime meat lover but above all he has an appetite for all things sweet. Being a man of his stature, this Texan bull loves when you prepare several courses for dinner. For starters, you make Tex Mex Queso with Nachos and serve it with his favorite beer, a baseball match playing on the TV. Main course would consist of Beef Stew with homemade Cornbread and Rice. But it's only when you bring out the Chocolate Pecan Pie and Apple Crisp, Sy's eyes light up like the fourth of July. In his case, "a man's love comes from his stomach" could not have been any truer.

Walter

Grumpy Detective Walter loves nothing more than the night prior to his day off duty. He looks forward to an evening of relaxation and enjoy your cooking. He is quite efficient in the kitchen himself, but he never turns down the offer of a pleasant meal prepared by you. Striving mostly on microwavable food and coffee as he immersed himself in his work before he met you, he likes it when you spoil him. You keep things modest, placing only fresh flowers in a vase on the dining table, as Walter loved simplicity. But you take him by surprise when you place in front of him a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and a plate of Slow-Roasted Salmon With Harissa, a recipe you had acquired from his mother and one of his favorite. He was a man of few words, but as he dug into his dessert, a piece of Lemon Buttercream Layer Cake, and says "reminds me of home" you know you had done a good job.

August

August loves things to be refined and elegant. The sprawling Manhattan penthouse with a balcony that looked out to the Hudson River made for a nice outdoor dinner setting. He had appointed chefs for the kitchen but once in a while you give them a day off and prepare something by yourself. To start it all off, you serve Roasted Tomato Bruschetta to pair it with a glass of sparkling Prosecco. For main course you prepare Crab and Tiger Prawn Fettuccine and Herb-crusted Bread. August isn't too fond of dessert but when it is you who took the effort to cook, he eats it without hesitation. You watch him in awe as with a rare childlike glee he finishes the Berry Vanilla Creamcheese Parfait, lickes the spoon clean and flashes you a smile that instantly warms your heart.

Napoleon

It was always a fun time when Leon was home from his secret visits abroad. He loved to help you cook, keeping you entertained with his quick witted jokes. But he liked exquisite cuisine too and you would try to learn a few recipes when he wasn't home. Having stayed at plenty world class hotels, Leon found your Vichyssoise, a chilled soup of leeks, onions and potatoes blended into chicken stock and cream, magnificent. A main course of Chicken à la King and champagne, reminded him of your wedding as it was one of the many dishes served at the reception. But the real winner was the dessert, Creme de Menthe Squares, Leon's favorite recipe and the one you had almost perfected by now.

Mikey

Mikey was the most easy going boyfriend when it came to choosing what to eat for dinner since he had no objections about any food category. On regular nights even if you made a pepperoni pizza at home, he was happy about it. And that's why you loved to cook fancy meals for him and have date nights with him up on the roof of his apartment complex. With candles lit for a romantic ambience, you would lay down a blanket on the floor and bring a Tupperware of his favorite Spaghetti with meatballs and serve it with a modest helping of grated cheese over it. But the cutest moments were when he would wrap his arms around you as you sat back against his chest and fed him spoonfuls of home-made Chocolate Mousse for dessert.

[doeilovr]

The Scent of Love

As requested by my dear berry (@sunflowerforhaechan-recs).. a little Haechan blurb about perfumes :3

• Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, 1.3k words

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You entered the big shopping mall, shops left and right, people laughing and talking everywhere. You were glad to quickly spot your best friend Haechan standing by a Perfume shop, sipping on a drink.

He turned his head to you, waving you over and greeted you with a smile as soon as you stopped in front of him. “Hey, sorry I’m a little late”, you apologized. Haechan shrugged, “don’t worry, I’m always super early anyway.”

You smiled, glad he was so understanding. “So, where do you want to go?” Haechan looked around, his eyes stopping by the perfume shop he was practically already standing in. “Let’s look around here. I could use a new scent”, he suggested.

You followed him inside, both of you slowly walking down the aisle, eyes curiously looking through all the different perfumes. You had never bought a perfume before, you didn’t even know why, but you weren’t that interested in buying one either.

“I’m searching for something floral, yet masculine”, Haechan mumbled and you only blinked at him. He had stopped walking, turning his attention to you. “Any ideas?”

“You know I don’t really use perfumes”, you shrugged. “I don’t think I am of any help.”

Haechan dramatically gasped, “what? I thought you were joking. But, you always smell so nice.” You raised your eyebrows, not knowing how to react to the sudden compliment. Haechan cleared his throat. “You know what I mean.”

You didn’t really, but you quickly turned to the perfumes and grabbed one randomly, suddenly feeling awkward. “What does this one smell like? I mean, what’s inside?”

Haechan took the little blue bottle from you, eyeing it curiously, before he sprayed some of the content on his wrist. He put the bottle back on the shelve, taking his time to take in all the different ingredients.

You waited patiently, curious of what he was about to say. Haechan nodded. “Alright, first of all it’s very light and fresh. I smell somewhat lemon and maybe cotton, no, I think something fruitier. Maybe pear or apple.”

You grabbed his arm, also trying smell the perfume. It did indeed smell fresh. “I would say there’s also something heavier, like a floral scent, maybe rose. Yeah, I’m pretty sure rose”, he continued. “And although this is for women, it’s not typically sweet, but rather has a masculine undertone. Probably amber and some kind of wood, like sandalwood or cedar.”

“Wow”, was the only thing you brought out. “You really know your scents, huh”, you chuckled. Haechan proudly smiled. “Well, what can I say. I just want to know what I wear.”

“Hey, why don’t you find a perfume for me? Something you think fits me”, you suddenly suggested. Haechan’s eyes lit up at your idea and he immediately agreed.

“Okay”, he rubbed his hands together, “let’s see.” Haechan turned around slowly, looking at all the perfumes once again. “For you, we need something sweet”, he began, slowly walking down the aisle.

“Something that’s as sweet as you. But not overbearing. No, no”, he waved his hand around. You giggled, following him around the shop.

“It should be fruity, maybe we could start with oranges or tangerines even. And in contrast we would need something floral. I’m thinking roses. Definitely also jasmine”, he turned around at that, winking at you, before he continued.

“Floral scents always make everyone turn their head you know. It’s a scent that will fit you, because you’re so pretty”, Haechan explained and you almost didn’t notice the compliment he sneaked in.

“We also need vanilla. It’s a must. It makes one smell cozy and warm. It’s something familiar, something comforting. And I want Opopanax.”

You chuckled behind Haechan, “Open- what?”

“Opopanax. It smells heavenly. Like honey, very rich, sweet and warm. But also a bit spicy. I just think everyone needs a bit of spice in their life.”

Haechan finally stopped walking, turning to one of the shelves and grabbing a pinkish, peach-colored bottle. “I think this one’s for you”, he smiled, handing you the perfume.

You looked at it curiously, spraying it on your wrist just like Haechan did before and waiting for the scent to reach you nose. And it was beautiful, it smelled just like Haechan had described it.

“That’s crazy”, you looked up at him, “how did you do that?”

Haechan shrugged again, “I’m just amazing, you know”, he praised himself, earning a teasing smack in the shoulder from you.

“How about I buy you this one”, Haechan then suggested. You quickly looked at him wide eyed, “are you crazy? That’s too expensive.” You put the little bottle back on the shelf.

Haechan immediately grabbed it again, “see it as an early Christmas gift. Or a late Christmas gift, anyway I’m gonna buy it for you.”

You couldn’t even protest, before your friend turned around and walked up to the register to purchase it. “Thanks, bye”, he waved at the cashier after some time, walking back to you and handing you the little white bag.

“For you, Mademoiselle”, he bowed mockingly. You took the bag from him quickly, trying to look annoyed, but actually feeling warm and happy inside.

“Haechan?”

He hummed in response, still standing in front of you and looking at you curiously.

“Thank you. You’re always so sweet and I honestly don’t know how I deserve that- you.”

Haechan tilted his head to the side, carefully raising his hand and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It wasn’t even lose or anything, he just wanted to do this for the longest time.

“I like you, you know. And I just want to see you happy. That’s all”, he softly explained, making your heart flutter a little. “And also, you deserve it. Don’t even think for a second you don’t.” You chuckled, his teasing side always making you laugh.

“I mean it”, he warned, “you’re such a great person and it absolutely makes my day to make you laugh- no even just smile once. You’re the highlight of my day, since the moment we met and I just want to be by your side. I want to make you happy. Whether it’s with buying you perfumes or just telling you random stuff about scents I read on Wikipedia the night before. I- I want to make you happy.”

You didn’t know what to say, but suddenly your heart felt like the perfume Haechan described earlier. It felt warm and cozy, it felt like what Roses smell like or even Vanilla.

You sighed, stepping forward and embracing Haechan tightly, “thank you so much. You always make my day Haechan.”

Haechan couldn’t hold back a smile, he felt beyond happy. “So, should we make our day even better and get something to eat”, he finally mumbled against your ear.

You stepped back, one hand somehow suddenly holding Haechan’s. But none of you minded, it was like it was meant to be. “Now that sounds just perfect.”

And with that, Haechan lead you through the shop once again, until you stood back in the shopping mall. The different scents of the perfumes suddenly gone, but somehow never leaving your nose all at once.

You realized it wasn’t only about what was inside the perfume, what was the ingredient. But also about what that ingredient made you feel like. And right now it felt cozy and warm, it felt pretty, somehow fruity, with a hint of freshness. It felt like love.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[icryyoumercy]

I saw that anon ask about pancakes and I would actually be really interested in hearing how you make pancakes sufficiently interesting without getting fed up with them- the most adventurous I've ever managed to get is adding blueberries and occasionally substituting applesauce for an egg.

oooooh, pancakes are such a handy food to add stuff to!

basically, if you can cut it into small pieces, you can add it to pancakes

i'm a big fan of cheese, bacon, and/or onion-type vegetables. bell peppers are good, too, or mushrooms. or if you fancy, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, or any sort of nuts are nice, too

just put a bit of oil in a pan, add whatever non-pancake additives you want, sauté a bit, and then pour batter over it until everything is connected to the pancake. the resulting pancakes will break/tear apart far more easily and flipping them can get adventurous, so they won't look as pretty, but they're perfectly tasty

if you prefer them sweet, sliced bananas and grated apples are good additives, as well as most berries (cranberries and red currants may require additional sugar), and presumably any other fruit that goes acceptably well with milk (i don't think any sort of citrus fruit or pineapples would be very tasty, but who knows). if you can be bothered to slice the fruit, same approach of sauté and then pour batter on top works, if you don't want pieces but flavour (or the fruit is unsuitable for slicing like most berries), mix them directly into the batter

and if none of that appeals, once the pancakes are done, you can put so many things on top of them. jam is sometimes neat, as long as you have some with relatively little added sugar, otherwise it gets too sticky-sweet. applesauce is neat, too, as applesauce always is. any sort of fruit compote, though personally, i'm particular to cherry or apricot. sugar and lemon juice, if you want something a bit more simple. cream cheese or creme fraiche with either sugar or some sort of barbecue/grill spice is very tasty, too. basically, if the pancakes are already done, you can treat them like a rather strange slice of bread and just pile things on top of them that appeal. i'd advise against using butter for non-floofy types of pancakes or if you eat them cold, but that's a matter of taste

and the best thing is, you can just raid your kitchen for stuff that seems fun to add to pancakes, and then make a ton of tiny experimental pancakes to see what does and doesn't work, and then you get to eat so many different things that are still the same, so you get all the joy of discovering new foods while still having a back-up plan in case the new food doesn't appeal

[cartoonsaint]

HLVRAI but they r soulmates and idiots hehe

part one part two WARNING: contains v poor self-esteem. poor gordon idiotman

So it turns out hot guy’s crazy.

To be fair, Benrey probably should have just let him pass without bugging him in the first place; guy was wearing the company suit and everything, so it’s not like he was an actual security risk. But work is boring, and the guy had sounded so cocky shooting aggressive “howdy!”s at everyone he passed, and also with the HEV helmet tucked under an arm instead of on his head it was clear that he was hot, hot, SO hot what the fuck!

So really, what was Benrey supposed to do? He’s only human.

Hah, he’s got jokes.

But yeah, guy’s nuts. Going on and on about arms for some reason, grabbing at Benrey, losing it over standard protocol, yelling and talking and mneuh mneuh mneuh. He’d even been kinda rude to Tommy in the hall, which normally woulda been a deal-breaker, but afterwards the guy had glanced at Benrey with a sardonic half-smile, like they were in on a joke together, and whispered, “What a freak,” which had surprised Benrey so much that he’d outright cackled. Who just says shit like that?

Plus he’s got a nice laugh and a pretty good sense of humor, especially as they move through the facility together and he seems to relax a little more into talking with Benrey.

“—so i open up, and i blow balls in his mouth with my—”

“—you blow balls in his mouth with your Sweet Voice?!” the guy finishes, already throwing his head back in wheezy laughter. His freckled cheeks bunch up, his dark curls bounce with his laughter, and as the man’s unusually light eyes squeeze shut, Benrey bites his lip. He wonders what color those eyes are. Humans have limited colors, he knows, but maybe something that means calm, or brave, or maybe even safe?

Benrey will probably never know, but he finds he likes how those eyes look anyway. Even being mean and weird looks good on this guy. Really, the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friend is how weirdly much he seems to like to touch people. Benrey keeps having to dodge out of the way of the guy’s pinwheeling, grasping hands, even using his no-clip a few times to avoid em. At least the guy’s suit has gloves— if he’d tried to grab Benrey with bare hands Benrey would have absolutely clocked the guy, hotness be damned.

“Listen, man,” the guy’s saying now, wiping away a tear of mirth with a careful gloved finger. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. My name’s—”

“Ah, hello Gordon! And Security Officer Benrey, too!! Hmmm.” It’s one of the clone doctors. He stands up, mustache twitching as he regards Benrey and his new friend— Gordon, apparently. Weird name for a weird guy. “I must say I never would have thought to put you two together, but you do make a lovely pair!”

“We aren’t— we’re not a pair,” Gordon says quickly.

“yeah, he’s uh. apple,” Benrey says, just to be difficult, and because maybe hot guy will appreciate it.

“What? No, I—” Gordon breaks off with a chuckle. Fuck yeah, Benrey thinks, smug. “Actually, I think in this suit I’m probably more of an orange.”

“mm. lemon lime,” Benrey refutes.

“Nnno man, I think I’m definitely—”

“mountain berry blast.”

“Are y—? You’re just naming different flavors of Powerade, aren’t you—”

“fruit.”

He waits, and when Benrey doesn’t say anything else, stutters out a laugh. “There’s no such flavor as— you mean Fruit Punch?”

Benrey peeks up at Gordon through his lashes. “man, you want me to do what?”

Those light-toned eyes widen in shock. Then Gordon throws his head back in a howl of surprised laughter, and the relief and triumph that rockets through Benrey pulls a giggle out of him as well. He’s so wrapped up in the euphoria of Hot Guy Liking Qu/eer Joke that, for the second fuckin’ time, he fails to move out of the way before his new friend reaches out and makes contact.

Gordon’s hand comes down to grab at the juncture between Benrey’s neck and shoulder, leaning into him for support as the man wheezes himself to pieces, and the jolt that goes through Benrey roots him to the spot. He forgets to breathe for a moment, staring at the man beside him, so casually and freely touching him, when Benrey— Benrey—

Well, he grew up on stories about soulmates. Who didn’t? Like any youngling, he was entranced by the idea of reaching out and finally touching the right person, the one whose skin on yours would finally make the black-and-white world come to life. Personally, Benrey’d always hoped his soulmate would be romantic; he liked the idea of closing his eyes as he leaned in for his and his partner’s first kiss, only to pull away at last and find their eyes in sudden, perfect color.

But it’s been many years and a dozen different dimensions and Benrey’s world is still grey. He still hasn’t found his soulmate.

Good thing he doesn’t give a shit about finding them anymore.

No, really— he doesn’t need a soulmate. He doesn’t need anyone— he’s fine on his own, without the disappointments of trying and still finding a grey world, without anyone to tie him down. It’s why he doesn’t even let other people touch him skin-to-skin (or really at all) anymore: he just doesn’t want to know! He’d rather just travel a little, make some casual friends, and then pack up and be on his way.

He’s past the whole soulmate bullshit. He definitely doesn’t care.

But that doesn’t stop the thrill of electricity that goes through him when Gordon touches him, even with HEV gloves and a bulletproof vest between them, and that hopeful idiot deep inside Benrey thinks, maybe. Maybe, if I let him, maybe this time, please, please, please—

By the time Benrey’s gotten a hold of himself, Gordon has already pulled his hand away to run it attractively through his hair, hiccuping with laughter. Benrey definitely doesn’t miss the weight on his shoulder.

“Okay, we— we definitely got off on the wrong foot,” Gordon says, grinning down at him, light eyes merry. “Look, lemme just get this part of the HEV suit off and maybe we can try this again—”

“Take the HEV suit off?” says Dr. Coomer. Gordon jumps, and Benrey nearly does too— he’d completely forgotten there was another person here. “But Gordon, you were supposed to be in the test chamber nearly half an hour ago! Do you really think that now’s the time?”

“O-oh, well, I mean,” Gordon hedges, shifting uncomfortably, and some stupid part of Benrey holds its breath when that brings Gordon an inch or two closer. “If, if I’m already late, then— and I mean, this is kind of a big deal, so—”

“Gordon,” Coomer chides, “this experiment is a big deal— you mustn’t keep your colleagues and the scientific community waiting!”

“But— but it’ll take like two seconds, can’t I just—”

Coomer shakes his head with a tut, though his smile is sympathetic. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until after the test.”

Gordon wilts. Pouting looks pretty good on him, but Benrey still feels kind of bad; even if he doesn’t get whatever dumb shit’s happening right now, it’s clearly a blow to his new friend. Benrey prefers the happier Gordon, the one who laughed at his jokes and played along.

He clears his throat over Gordon’s groaning and muttering. “this arm thing really that big a deal, bro?”

Gordon jerks his gaze towards Benrey, absolutely incredulous. “Yes, it’s a big fucking—!” He breaks off with a cough and rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “...well, I mean, not— I mean, it’s a big deal for some people, but I, I’m totally cool with waiting, if, if, if that’s what you want. N-not that I think that we’re definitely— I mean, that’s the whole point of checking, right? To, to, to make sure that we’re really— But you probably don’t— like, we probably aren’t, because then you would have just shown me your arm, so really this whole thing is, is, is just me being my stupid, typical—”

“chill,” Benrey says, and Gordon shuts his mouth with a click. “s’cool. even if you don’t have your passport, i guess i can make an exception.” Gordon blinks at him blankly; Benrey huffs a laugh. “i’ll show you my arm, man.”

Immediately Gordon straightens up, a grin breaking across his face, and Benrey has to look away because auhgghshdf jeeze dude’s so PRETTY what the fuck. “Really? You mean— you’re not just fucking with me?”

“not fuckin,” Benrey confirms, fiddling with the button on his sleeve through gloved fingers. “just— don’t touch?”

“Sure,” Gordon says, “Sure, yeah, no problem, no touching, I can do that—”

Miraculously, he shuts his pretty mouth as soon as Benrey undoes the button. As he carefully rolls up the sleeve, Gordon’s attention on him is intense, enough so that Benrey’s heart is going a little fast and he can feel his ears heating up. S’just his arm, what’s the big deal? But with the way Gordon’s holding so still, barely breathing, Benrey can’t help but feel a little nervous too. What if it’s somehow not up to code? Benrey’s pretty confident he’s got the human shape down, but…

At last he completes the final roll and extends his arm to Gordon, wrist up. Against his will his gaze is drawn to Gordon, feeling uncertain and weirdly hopeful.

Gordon doesn’t touch, but he does lift a hand to hover over Benrey’s arm. Benrey could swear he nearly feels the man’s fingers as he traces over the scant inch of air between them, goosebumps lighting up in their wake, the shitty fluorescent lights that reflect off his glasses making his expression impossible to parse.

Benrey swallows. “well? s’it okay? you, uh, you… like it?”

“...You don’t have a soulmark,” Gordon finally says.

“...huh?”

Gordon straightens up, putting a little distance between them, and Benrey drops his gaze to his own arm: the blue veins standing out maybe a little too much against his skin, enough muscle to do his job, more hair on one side than the other, as human as he could get it. Soulmark? What?

“Every— every human being in the world has a soulmark,” Gordon says, but it’s less like he’s telling Benrey than he’s talking to himself. “Everyone except you.”

“i’m. not human,” Benrey offers, baffled at the shift between them. Did he do something wrong?

But Gordon doesn’t seem to be listening. “And you, you said my words— and you don’t— but then, and, s-so… Ha. Haha!” He breaks out into laughter again, but Benrey doesn’t like this laugh: it’s forced, and it doesn’t sound at all like Gordon’s having fun. “Of course! Of fucking course! Because no one would— because even the fucking universe knows that, that I don’t— that of course no one could— because who, who would, who could stand Gordon fucking Freeman—”

“bro,” Benrey says, confused and more than a bit concerned. He tries to look his friend in the eyes but the guy’s looking at anything but Benrey now; even when Benrey puts himself in his path Gordon looks up and away, ranting to himself. Benrey growls a bit under his breath, because what the fuck. He raises his voice. “bro, can you chill?”

At that, Gordon stops, hands frozen in midair. “...you want me to chill?” he says, quiet.

“yeah?” says Benrey. “we were having fun and i don’t get what happened? can’t we—”

“You want me to chill because this isn’t fun? For you??”

Benrey blinks dumbly. “wha? no, man, you aren’t listening—”

“I’m not listening?” Gordon demands, his hands inching towards Benrey like he’s going to strangle him. Benrey takes a step back, because what the fuck. “I’m not listening?? You’re seriously saying that when, when, when you’re mine, but I, I’m not— not…”

But suddenly he goes limp like someone cut his strings, his hands falling loosely to his sides. The look on his face isn’t relaxed, though— it’s bleak, and tired, and angry. Gordon closes his light eyes with a sharp, painful breath.

“uh,” Benrey says, taking a careful step forward. “gordon? …bro?”

“Y’know what, man?” In a blink, Gordon has placed the helmet on his head, latching it shut and replacing that expressive, handsome face with unreadable black glass. “We’re not bros. We don’t know each other at all, and we don’t have to.” He places a gloved hand on Benrey’s shoulder, and even with the whiplash this conversation is giving him Benrey still finds himself leaning into it. “Let’s just forget this whole thing ever happened, yeah?”

“huh?” Benrey says, and then Gordon’s hand is gone and he’s striding away, leaving Benrey off-balance without Gordon there to steady him. “...wha?”

He stands there for a second, watching Gordon walk away, before Benrey clenches his fists. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily!” he calls, and marches after his new friend.

thanks to @sandelure for the idea that benrey's species uses a different soulmate-system-thing, which just felt so correct i had to write more :] there's like 2-3 more lil parts to this and then a happy ending! part four COMPLETE ON AO3!

[justlookfrightened]

How about number 11 from the fluff prompts?

From this prompt list:  “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

I did have to modify slightly to “Were you flirting with me ...”

Background: Bitty went to Samwell and stayed in New England. Jack didn’t go to Samwell but still plays for the Falconers.

Bitty had just set out the pie samples when the man in the yellow shoes ran by.

Every week, just at this time, the man ran through the just-opened market, keeping to the center of the aisle and never stopping to look at anything. Not the sweet, crisp lettuces or heirloom tomatoes from Bruce’s stand across the way, not the strawberries and blueberries that Harry had displayed, not the lavender and honey soaps from the booth next to Bitty’s.

It wasn’t really a bother. The man came early enough that there weren’t many customers to disturb, and the market was in a public park. Anyone could jog through it if they wanted to. It was just annoying that the man never even looked around or acknowledged anyone. And that he looked so good doing it, hideous yellow shoes notwithstanding.

Today he was wearing the shoes and navy blue running shorts -- the kind that barely reached the top of his thighs -- and a dark ball cap with sunglasses. What looked like a blue T-shirt was tucked into the back of his waistband, the better to sweat freely and give anyone who was out and about an eyeful of his shoulders, pecs and abs. Not to mention the massive rear end. All of which was damn near poster-perfect.

Bitty sighed and looked over at Margie, who had paused from setting up her stand to stare as well.

She caught Bitty’s glance and pantomimed fanning herself.

“You should try to sell him some soap,” Bitty said . “He’s gonna need a shower after that run.”

“Forget him,” Margie said. “I’m going to need a shower after watching him.”

The sun rose higher in the sky as Bitty’s stock of pies, cookies, muffins and turnovers got lower. The sample slices disappeared first, of course, but nearly everyone who took one bought something, so they were definitely a success. Maybe next week he should do more samples? Maybe apple and cherry? Or peach?

He was mulling fruit choices over when he noticed a customer -- well, a potential customer at least -- standing off to the side looking at his table. The guy was tall and broad across the shoulders, clean shaven, with the lightest blue eyes Bitty had ever seen on someone with hair so dark. His baggy shorts and ratty T-shirt, combined with socks and athletic slides, reminded Bitty of his old hockey teammates.

Bitty stood up.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

“Euh,” the man stalled, then looked at the table again. “Do you have a sample I could try?”

The man’s accent wasn’t as harsh as the New England voices that Bitty had finally gotten used to after six years in Boston and Providence. It wasn’t a southern drawl, that was for sure, but Bitty couldn’t place it.

“Not anymore,” Bitty said. “You have to wake up earlier to get those. I’ve got a couple of apple pies and peach pies left, and some cherry turnovers. Chocolate-cherry cookies, too, but I’m afraid everything else is sold out.”

“Um, how much for a cookie?”

“$6.50 for a dozen,” Bitty said. “I know it sounds like a lot, but …”

“A lot of cookies?” the man said. “I’m not sure I can have that many.”

“You can’t find anyone to give some to? Everyone likes a little sugar.”

“Haha,” the man said. “I guess.”

He handed over a $10 bill, took the cookies and left before Bitty could make change.

*

The following week, Bitty and Margie again paused in their set-up when the man in the yellow shoes ran by.

“Of all the markets I go to, this one definitely has the best view,” Margie said, turning back to her soaps. 

“You know it,” Bitty said, arranging morsels cut from apple, cherry and peach mini-pies on a tiered stand to offer as samples.

Once again, Bitty had sold most of his stock by time he was considering getting a start on packing up. Once again, the man with ice-blue eyes appeared, hanging back until Bitty noticed him.

“Did you like the cookies last week?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” the man said. “And I shared them with my … friend. He liked them, too.”

Bitty looked up, wondering what the awkward hesitation before the word “friend” meant. Did he not really share them? Why lie about that? A dozen cookies wasn’t too many for one person to eat in a week, and Bitty hadn’t even asked who ate them. Was his “friend” not really a friend? Maybe more of an acquaintance, like a neighbor or coworker? Or maybe more than a friend? A wife? But he said “he.” A boyfriend? A husband?

Bitty tried to get a read on the man, but when he looked up, the man was looking down at the table, at the card reader with the pride flag sticker and the  now-empty sample stand.

“Looks like I missed the samples again,” the man said. 

“Looks like you did,” Bitty agreed. “You’ve got to get up pretty early to get those.”

“Do you have more of those cookies?”

“Sorry, not this week. Maybe try something different? Peaches are in season and I make a mean peach pie.”

“Why would I want a mean pie?” the man asked.

Now the cute accent came with dad jokes.

“Haha,” Bitty said. “I’ll have you know I won the blue ribbon at the tri-county fair with my pie when I was still in high school.”

“I think a pie is too much for me,” the man said. “It’s not as easy to share as cookies.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Bitty said. “You can take my last half-dozen mini-pies, and since I’m packing up, I’ll only charge you for three. There’s four peach and two cherry. That’ll be $13.50.”

The man handed over a $20, and this time Bitty didn’t pass him his food until he accepted the change. The man just dropped it in the tip cup.

“Thank you, sir,” Bitty saud. “Y’all have a good week now.”

“Good-looking and generous,” Margie said from the next booth over.  “Why do I only get little old ladies or girls who want their bathrooms to smell nice?”

“Because you sell soap?”

“Don’t men want their bathrooms to smell nice?”

“Well, I do,” Bitty said. 

*

The following week’s market started much the same way, with the runner in the yellow sneakers kicking off the day, this time carrying a balled up red T-shirt in one large hand.

Bitty arranged sliced of apple and cherry turnovers as samples and displayed his pies and cookies, then passed the time between customers chatting with Margie and Bruce across the way.

“You think your boyfriend’s coming back?”

“What boyfriend would that be?” Bitty asked, as though he hadn’t spent a good part of the week daydreaming about blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders.

Once again, just when he was getting ready to close up, Blue Eyes showed up, this time with an even larger man. His friend? Or “friend”? 

The bigger man walked right up to the table, not hanging back like Blue Eyes usually did.

“Hello,” he said, smiling widely, the word flavored with an accent Bitty couldn’t quite place. “Jack says you make the best pies. You have blueberry?”

“Uh, not this week?” Bitty said. “Maybe next week, if I can get enough blueberries. I can make sure to save one for you, Mr. --”

“Alexei,” the man said. “You can call me Alexei.”

“Okay,” Bitty said, writing the name on a sticky note. “I’ll save a blueberry pie for Alexei, Jack’s friend. Can I get you anything today?”

“I see you have lemon bars,” Alexei said. “Six of those?”

“And what about you, Jack? It’s on the house. I noticed the extra $20 in my tip jar last week.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “I like what you make, and it’s your business, so you should be paid. Um, you have a cherry pie left?”

“Just one,” Bitty said.

“It’s amazing,” Alexei said, “that you get this guy to eat dessert. Usually he only eats protein. All the time.”

“Protein is good for you,” Jack defended himself.

“Well, sure it is, hon,” Bitty said. “But you have to have a balanced diet.”

Both men paid, and Alexei said, “Maybe Jack will come get my pie next week from you -- wait, I don’t know your name.”

“Eric,” Bitty said. “But most everyone calls me Bitty.”

“Bitty baker,” Alexei crowed. “Excellent.”

“Bye, Bitty,” Jack said quietly.

After they left, Bitty collapsed dramatically on the table.

“Why are all the good ones taken?” he said.

“Who said he was taken?” Margie said. “Maybe they’re just friends.”

“Friends who pick up pie for each other?”

*

Bitty was well stocked with blueberry pies the next week, and he dutifully put one aside for Alexei. The berries had been so plentiful at the market that he’d made a couple of dozen blueberry bite-sized blueberry tartlets to set on his sample stand.

Bitty was just placing it on the table when the man with the yellow shoes loped past. 

“Put your tongue back in your mouth.” Margie was laughing at him. “You have your guy who comes every week. This one is mine.”

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “I have a regular customer. That doesn’t mean I can’t feast my eyes on what’s on display.”

Then he stopped talking and busied himself with his display, because the man had broken his pattern and turned around when he reached the end of the market. He was headed back down the aisle.

Bitty was preparing himself to nod at the man, who for once seemed to be looking his way instead of straight ahead, but it was hard to see from behind the man’s sunglasses.

Wait, the man was heading right toward him, slowing to a trot as he passed the table.

“I see you got the blueberries,” he said. “Save one of those for me?”  

Bitty was glad the man -- Jack -- kept moving, because he knew his jaw nearly hit the table.

Once he managed to close his mouth, he turned back to Margie. “Still not my boyfriend,” he said. “But jiminy crickets. How did I not know it was the same guy?”

“You were blinded by the shoes?” Margie suggested. “Or, you know, the totally ripped half-naked body.”

“At least he’ll be dressed when he comes back,” Bitty said, placing three of the tartlets into a container that he put with Alexei’s pie. 

“The better not to drool over him?” Margie asked.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Pretty sure that’s considered bad customer service.”

Bitty spent the rest of the morning on pins and needles. It was fine, he told himself. His (very handsome) customer was the same as the (very hot) guy who ran through the market early every morning. The guy who never showed any sign that he even realized there were other people there, let alone that those people might be looking at him.

To him, Bitty was just the guy who sold cookies and pies. But his friend said Jack didn’t usually eat sweets, Bitty remembered.

Maybe Jack was buying them for Alexei. Maybe they were … it wasn’t right to say “more than friends,” Shitty would have his head for that. 

But they hadn’t seemed, well, couple-y, last week. And Bitty was pretty sure Jack lived alone. And Bitty couldn’t believe he had gotten himself wrapped up in whether there was an ethical difference in spinning daydreams about a customer based on whether the customer had a significant other. They were daydreams, for pity’s sake, and nothing would come of them.

Good thing the tartlets were doing their job and Bitty’s baked goods were more or less selling themselves today.

The stand was so successful that Bitty sold out of everything except the tartlets and pie he was saving for Jack and Alexei a half-hour before he usually packed up. 

He took his time stacking his trays, folding his tablecloths, stowing equipment in now-empty coolers for the trip home.

“Leaving already?” Margie asked. “Want me to hang on to the pie for when he gets here?”

“Nah,” Bitty said. “I’ll wait.”

Once he had everything stacked and ready to go to the truck, he sat in his folding chair and pulled out his phone to answer comments on his latest video.

He had just explained -- for the six-hundredth time -- how shortening and butter behave differently in pie crust when he heard a throat clear a few feet above him.

The Jack he saw when he looked up was different from the ones he had seen so far. No tiny running shorts or baggy basketball shorts, no horrid yellow shows or shower sandals. This Jack had on dark wash jeans that had to be tailored to fit like that, a snug T-shirt and a flannel button-down left open and with the sleeves rolled above the elbow. The moccasin-style shoes were a nice bonus. He looked a little familiar, but Bitty supposed that went with the fantasizing.

“Bitty?” Jack said. “Are you done for the day?”

“I am,” Bitty said, getting up and then immediately bending over to pick up the boxes for Jack. “But I saved you some tartlets and Alexei’s pie is here.”

“How much do I owe you?” Jack said.

“The pie is $20 even,” Bitty said. “But you can catch up to me next week if you don’t have cash.”

“I’m good for it,” Jack said, reaching for his wallet. “More to the point, so is Tater. What about the little blueberry things?”

“No charge,” Bitty said. “Samples, remember?”

“Samples are for people who get here early,” Jack said.

“You were here early,” Bitty said. “You just couldn’t take them with you. No, uh, pockets.”

“You think I’d put them in my pockets?”

Jack handed over two crisp twenties.

“It’s just $20,” Bitty said.

“For your trouble,” Jack said. “I’ll get Tater to pay me back.”

“Why do you call him Tater?”

“Hockey nickname,” Jack said. “He’s my teammate.”

“You play hockey?” Bitty said. “Where?”

“With the Falconers?” Jack said. 

Suddenly it clicked.

“Alexei … Mashkov? And you’re Jack Zimmermann!”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack said, ducking his head to look around to see if anyone heard. He raised his hand to his head like he wanted to pull the brim of his cap down, but with no cap, he ended up brushing away the hair that had curled onto his forehead. “Sorry you had to wait for me. Do you need a hand moving your things?”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that, hon,” Bitty said. “It’s a kind offer, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Jack said. “I was hoping maybe after you were done clearing up, you’d want to get coffee with me? Or a late lunch? Or something?”

Bitty managed to keep his mouth closed, but only just. A quick glance to the side told him Margie hadn’t been so successful.

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “It’s fine. I mean, I know you shouldn’t ask people out when they’re working, so that’s why I wanted to wait until you were done --”

“No, sugar,” Bitty said. “I’d love to get lunch with you. Just so I know, though, you mean like a date?”

“Yes?” Jack said. “Wasn’t that clear? After all these weeks? Tater said he thought you liked me.”

“Wait,” Bitty said. “Were you flirting with me?”

“You finally noticed?”

“Never mind,” Bitty said. “Got there in the end, didn’t I?”

Jack started pushing the dolly with the folded table and stacked coolers towards the parking lot. As soon as he passed, Bitty flashed Margie a thumbs-up, picked up his chair and trays, and followed.

[1010ll]

do you have any new recipes that you've learned recently? i remember you wrote something a while ago about carbonara and i tried it out for myself it was really fun!!

i love this 😭 im gonna write way too much idec! something that has changed since that post: my kitchen is worse. i have a horrible combi oven which has resulted in me accidentally eating raw chicken, because it had been in there for more than 2 hours at supposedly 230 °C and i was really hungry and thought it HAD to be done by then. also i have less time and less money lol. it has made me a bit sad, and less motivated to cook nice things but i also love food! which means these tips/recipes are gonna reflect that and might seem a bit dull but probably also relatable for a lot of people.   i’ve definitely made spaghetti carbonara a bit too much because it’s simple and require few ingredients! will still vouch for that one tip about substituting the bacon with roasted veggies and other types of meat.

last week i made risotto for the very first time, i think? which means i might be assuming a bit too much, but i think it’s a great dish that you can almost make with whatever you have in your fridge. i made it with roasted beetroot(needs A LOT of time to soften, lesson learned), carrots and parsley root or parsnip(idk the difference), dried rosemary and thyme, garlic and onion. i had some leftover sushi rice, which is great for risotto apparently(love versatile ingredients), roasted them in some oil and then added white wine and chicken stock and actually added a leftover parmesan rind i had in the fridge to give the ‘stock’ some flavour, a bit of nutmeg and then in the end some shredded gouda lol… it was surprisingly delicious and i didn’t even really care to cook the rice perfectly. it also tasted delicious 3 days later, which was a nice surprise. i bet there are tons of risotto recipes online, but as long as you have rice, some kind of flavoured water, i guess you could kind of add whatever you want of veggies and top with whatever herb you have around.

another type of porridge i consume a lot these days is hot oat porridge, which i’ve eaten since i was little and it was the first ‘dish’ i learnt to make myself and it’s cheap. some people really dislike the consistency and look but i don’t. it’s also very easy to customise. i put in whatever nuts and seeds(which are often cheaper than nuts) i have around: flaxseed, sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, chopped almonds and sometimes a dollop of peanut butter. i let them simmer along with the oats. i like adding those elements because it gives it some texture and it keeps me more full throughout the day. it’s very important to me because i hate spending money i don’t have on fast-food when i’m not home and i hate being hungry. dried raisins, cranberries for a bit of sweetness and if i’m treating myself i’ll add some fresh apples cut into small pieces or some homemade berry compote(i use frozen) or brown sugar. if i had more money i’d use maple syrup but i don’t at the moment. i also add a bit of cinnamon and cardamom, dried ginger etc, whatever you feel like. some people also add milk afterwards but i’d rather spend my milk on my coffee.

a small tip: making chili flake / garlic oil. it’s really delicious, you could put it straight on pasta with some parmesan and pepper and it would be a filling meal. either chop the garlic really fine, grate it, microplane it, smash it to pieces. heat some olive oil until it’s quite hot, then remove from heat and add the chili flakes and garlic. if the oil isn’t hot enough you can just put the pan or pot back on the heat but be careful you don’t burn the chili flakes or garlic, as it will make it bitter. the longer it will toast, the less pronounced the raw garlic flavour will be, so when it smells toasted enough for your taste, take it off. i store it in a tiny glass jar and add it in stews, sauces, toasts, pizza, sandwiches etc. the flavour is very strong imo and everything it touches will smell like it. something to drink: i like strong foods and i like sour foods, which is why i like lemon/ginger based drinks. to make it even more winter friendly and easy to make, i like to grate unpeeled ginger(i hate slices of ginger, they do nothing for me and seems like a waste of ginger), lemon zest, lemon juice and mix it or blend it with some water/apple juice and honey and strain it afterwards. if you have a really nice blender you can just add all of it together with some ice. i’m basically making a large amount of ginger shot mixture. then when i feel like it, i can take some of the mixture and either drink it as it is, add more apple juice if i need a refreshing beverage or add hot water and more honey for when im cold. you could also add turmeric, chili, use less sweetener and other sorts of healthy stuff but i honestly do it for the taste so i don’t care about that that much.

something sweet: i posted earlier about cakes and someone mentioned swedish kladdkaka, which is a super delicious, cheap, brownie-like chocolate cake that is easily customized and hard to fuck up which is why i’ve made it since i was very young and is a go-to and i didn’t even know it was a swedish thing. if you like airy, light cakes this is not for your. this is sticky, sweet and almost like confection. you can add nuts, swirls of peanutbutter, tahini, actual pieces of chocolate, replace the white sugar with brown sugar, the butter with oil(you can be fancy and use a bit of olive oil) or use a mixture, brown the butter, you name it. the recipe i use is this: melt 100 g butter and let cool. mix 2 eggs + 3 dl sugar in a bowl until fluffy in one bowl. mix 1.5 dl flour, 4 tbs cocoa, 1 pinch of salt in another. mix the dry with the wet mixture and add the cooled, melted butter. this is the point where you’d add chopped nuts, chocolate etc. pour the batter into a cake tin lined with parchment (i use one that is 16 cm in diameters i think). bake the cake for around 30 mins at 150°C - 175°C degrees. check on the cake using a cake tester or a a knife. if the knife is clean after … stabbing it, it’s done! the cake will change it’s texture after cooling. this is a cheap cake, and if you like cake dough you might want to give it less time in the oven for a more fudgey texture. make it your own! there are no rules. last time i made this, i left it in for too long in my opinion but it was still delicious. also i literally have a shit oven with a round oven rack that goes in circles no matter what due to the microwave function, and the only ‘mixing’ equipment i have is a whisk and a spatula. no need for kitchen aids or  even electrical hand mixers.

something else i’ve been eating a lot for lunch is simple open faced sandwiches, and something that can really elevate those is: making your own mayonnaise(and toasting the bread). it can be challenging, but it’s really worth it imo and i can’t remember the last time i bought it in a store. i have a small plastic bowl, whisk and 1 egg yolk. something i can really recommend is buying pour snouts for bottles. i transfer my oils from their plastic bottles to smaller, old soda bottles because im cheesy like that and it’s really handy especially when making mayo. constantly whisking the egg yolk by hand and then adding the NEUTRAL oil ever so slowly. don’t be fancy and use cold pressed stuff or extra virgin olive oil because it will taste weird. i only ever fail when i try to use immersion blenders for some weird reason but i find it rewarding to do by hand anyways and i think it might be easier to make smaller portions that way. mayo needs acid and you can get it by adding regular vinegar, apple cider vinegar, balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, lime juice, pickle juice, citric acid dissolved in water etc. it’s really easy to customise! when im making banh mi, i add some sesame oil, soy sauce for saltiness and use lime as the acidic element. for more regular use i add a bit of mustard(also helps with the emulsion), for fries, i like adding some fresh garlic. something as simple as mayo, tomatoes, flaky salt and pepper topped with chives is really nice. i also really like using slices of boiled potatoes or boiled eggs(idk if that’s only a thing where i’m from), mayo and the chili garlic oil. it’s also great for making tuna salad. yesterday i made a really simple sandwich with a very simple tuna salad(tuna, mayo, yoghurt, lemon and pepper), arugula, basil, the garlic/chili oil, cream cheese, pickled jalapeños and onions, green peber, cucumber and tomatoes. you could leave out everything but the tuna salad and it would still be a great little meal.

another nice condiment that beats the supermarket stuff by far is homemade ‘pesto’. when i buy parsley from my local grocery store, it’s a gigantic amount that i in no way can consume in a week. first of all when buying fresh herbs i really recommend washing them, wrapping them in a damp towel and keeping them in a closed container. it will prolong their lifetime from lasting a day to a week(change the towel if it seems too wet). i once had some cilantro in my fridge for several weeks and still be fresh. anyways, when i buy that much parsley, i like to remove the tougher parts of the stem(which i use in stews/sauces! chop it up and sautee it along with garlic and onion), add literally just olive oil, water, pepper, garlic, and a bit of acid and then blend away! it keeps for a long time in the fridge and is also delicious beneath tomatoes/potatoes/cheese on open-faced sandwiches. if you want to be fancy you can of course add some type of hard cheese, nuts, seeds, dried tomatoes, whatever.

i know this is the longest text post ever, but as a last reminder, i really recommend watching pasta grannies on youtube. really simple recipes with focus on few, good ingredients that just takes some time and love.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Logicality with the word 'strawberry'

“Strawberry“

Pairing: Romantic Logicality Human AU TWs: None, this whole thing is just fluffy fruity goodness! <3

--

Logan let out a soft sigh as he leant against the rough stone wall and leafed through the pages of a murder mystery novel he’d read one hundred times before. The overcast shadow of the trees above him saved his sun kissed skin from a much rougher solar makeout session. 

As he waited for Patton’s last lecture of the day to end, Logan could smell a sweet, fruitiness in the air; a strong, fresh citrus aroma that hid a candy-like berry scent at it’s back. Glancing across the road, he spotted a pop-up drinks stand. It was a rather hot day after all, and the sight of the sparkling glasses of iced lemonade sitting on the counter was far too enticing to ignore. 

Making sure to check for traffic first, Logan bookmarked the novel and made his way over to the stand. The employee greeted him fleetingly, handing him a menu as she seemingly went to restock the juice dispensers behind her. Truthfully, Logan was glad to avoid smalltalk; he was getting better at handling conversations with strangers but without Patton to give him the reassurance he had done well, Logan saw little point in actively seeking it out.

The menu mostly consisted of smoothies, iced drinks, and a small selection of boba teas. Logan pointedly ignored the latter option - the texture of the tapioca ‘bubbles’ always left his mouth feeling unpleasant - in favour of trying out an iced drink simply labelled ‘summer fruits’. What that exactly meant, Logan had no idea, but if it tasted as good as it looked on the menu he had a feeling he wouldn’t be complaining. 

Of course, Logan couldn’t leave Patton without a treat in the summer heat either. Knowing his best friend, the stoic young man looked for a more whimsical, sweet-sounding drink. In the end, he deduced that Patton would probably prefer the strawberry lemonade. 

Once both drinks were made, they were quickly scooped into logan’s hands while his novel rested under his left arm. Upon turning around, however, he nearly leapt out of his skin to see Patton beaming so brightly at him, he felt that his strongest sunscreen couldn't protect him from those rays.

“Patton, you’re early,”, Logan noted, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, “I thought your lecture didn’t end until four?”

The slightly taller young man shook his head and Logan was powerless to not be hypnotised by the way his chestnut curls caught the sunlight, “It doesn’t, but our lecturer had to leave early, so here I am!”

A soft smile accompanied Logan’s fond sigh while he held out the strawberry lemonade to Patton, “Well, you’ve come just in time. I hope it’s what you would have picked..”

If Logan could bottle the feeling he felt watching Patton’s amber eyes glimmer with delight, he’d do so in a heartbeat. A heartbeat which was racing like a bullet train when Patton’s warm, delicate hand brushed his to gently coax the strawberry lemonade from his distracted grasp,

“It’s perfect-!”, Patton sniffed, “Oh wow, you can really smell the fruit! It’s berry nice!”

Logan groaned at the pun, even though his smile betrayed how much he delighted in it truly. While they walked home, Patton cheekily continued as he sipped the refreshing fruit juice, “Sorry Lo, was that the last straw...berry?”

This man was going to be the death of him. Not that Logan would complain.

“I would affectionately swat at you but I fear that if I try to do so, I will drop my book. You got lucky, Foster.”, Logan snarked fondly.

Patton grinned and before the shorter man could stop him, “Oh, so you need some… lemon-aid?”

Patton cackled giddily as Logan, also snickering childishly, bumped his arm against Patton’s. The taller of the two mock pouted adorably, “Logaaaaan, I almost spilled my lemonade!”.

Honestly, how was anyone allowed to be so cute?

Logan shook his head, chuckling fondly. However, he found himself stealing glances at his best friend as they walked. His feelings for Patton had bloomed over the last few years from a gentle bud to a flower so grand Logan could feel it’s roots cradling his heart. Each time Patton sipped his drink, Logan couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like for those same lips to caress his own. 

Perhaps it was the summer heat or maybe the culmination of years of pining, but Logan swallowed nervously as the two of them reached the road through the park that led to their student housing. Now or never, Logan supposed.

“... I’ve never tried strawberry lemonade before, you know..”

It was such a weak line. Logan was already internally chastising himself when Patton held out his drink for Logan to try. Biting back the urge to abort the mission and simply do as offered, Logan tilted his head up those couple of inches in their height difference and softly pressed his lips to Patton’s. It lasted all of two seconds before he pulled back.

Seeing Patton’s eyes widen in surprise followed by a sudden quiet had Logan fearing the worst, but before he could apologise, Patton leant in once again to return the favour. Or flavour in this case as the taste of strawberries flooded Logan’s mouth with a more intense kiss that left him feeling light-headed. 

Logan locked eyes with Patton as they pulled back slowly, melting under his crush’s gaze.

“Logan Croft,”, Patton uttered softly, smiling while intertwining their free hands and softly coaxing Logan closer, “If you’re going to ask me for a taste, you should take the time to savour the flavour.”

-- This was a fun one~!

No angst, just shameless ol’ fluff. @patton-cake thanks for this one, it was so nice! Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom @does-this-look-logicality-to-you @justalittlecorrupted @irritating-lady-knight @katlikethesword @ali_is_lazy