#moderately half baked but it is okay
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neotheater-kid · 2 years ago
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uuu*whispering*
anyone wanna
HEAR ABOUT MY JAKE AND AMIR AUs I have so many
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chaos0pikachu · 2 years ago
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okay so if I don't talk about the kinnporsche side story I will literally combust b/c they didn't need to give us that they didn't NEED to give us this little youtube up short that spanned the spectrum of chaotic human emotion as a stop gap between one of the best episodes of the series and the hyper escalation to flowers in the attic-ville where the lamps have chains okay but they did and bless them for it cause like
first off you have porsche who's given up his chance at something of a normal life with his sunshine kitten of a baby brother walking around the hospital ass out b/c KINN GOT SHOT FOR HIM like fucking what porsche is like welp he's earned that bussy now and tankhun is like OMG MY BABY BROTHER IS DEAD crying in Arm's arms and porsche is like OMG KINN DIED and tankhun is like no you dumb pretty bitch he's dead to me spiritally for being an in love idiot but porsche is already half way down the hall heart pounding b/c his self sacrificing big dicked mafia daddy just bit it only to then see kinn is alive and breathing if moderately a pin cushion only to
THEN be confronted by Vegas wearing this summers best Second Lead in a K-Drama Couture look flowers at the ready like omg porsche I am but a sweet and loving man, holding out flowers, hoping another man, will love me back did you know these mean longing? friendship? unrequited love?? and porsche is like, wtf who's giving flowers meaning seems like a waste of time and money to me rich ppl are so weird meanwhile kinn's "someone's after porsche's baked booty" senses start tingling waking him up from the morphine b/c drugs will NOT keep him away from his man and is like "vegas you whore" and vegas is like "kinn your alive (derogatory)" and kinn's like "take back your fake ass cheap ass dollar store flowers" and vegas is like "see porsche, see what I go through? the hardships that are my life??" and it's just elevator music in porsche's head just full on disassociation at this point b/c why are all these hot dangerous men hitting on him all the time he's just trying to make a living out here
and then kinn's like I got shot cuddle me pls and porsche is like only b/c I don't want the ghosts to eat my ass and kinn is like me either cause that's my job and they cuddle while the music swells and that video has 6.5 MILLION VIEWS EVERY ONE EARNED
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changingplumbob · 11 months ago
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Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 4
Devin and Luna finish their date while Joey has a night on the town.
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CW: Moderate sim spice. Content Warning Guide
Luna and Devin use some German and Italian. Amore (Italian) Love Schatz (German) Treasure
Devin: I love seeing you happy
Luna: Me to schatz. Now, do we need to do anything about the dollhouse
Devin: I fixed it
Luna: Yes but Rilian lied to me about it and Alfred smashed it in the first place
Devin: I guess we’ll need to talk to them about lying eventually but I don’t want to be too hard, after all he was only trying to cover for his brother. The destructive toddler is more tricky
Luna: Lies and cheating are normal for kids their age I suppose. And if I think, it’s unlikely Alfred means the destruction maliciously
Devin: We can afford to replace whatever he breaks but I don’t think that’s a good way to raise him long term. When will they be able to understand consequences
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Luna: They’re old enough to start noticing cause and effect but consequences don’t make sense unless they immediately follow the action so… not yet
Devin: I’m so glad I got a smart wife
Luna: It’s basic developmental psychology
Devin: Amore mio, nothing about you is basic
Luna: *laughs* Thank you
The waiter returns, placing their ordered food and drinks in front of them.
Devin: This looks good! Not as good as your placemat but still
Luna: I guess it’s time to see if they are any good here
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Devin: I don’t know, that host could use some practice at her role
Luna: Maybe she’s just nervous talking to all the celebrities
Devin: Maybe. She could take some acting classes though, I mean this is Del Sol Valley. There’s so many actors here, how did one of them not get hired
Luna: Not sure, maybe they were afraid of the indoor pools
Devin: What, the fountains?
Luna: They’re too deep for fountains I think. Plus over there some patrons are actually jumping in
Devin: *raises glass* To those brave enough to pack swimwear under formal wear
Luna bursts into a fit of giggles and the pair take turns having a bite off each other’s plates.
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Devin: This is not as great as it looks. It looks so good but the flavour is just… not here
Luna: You sure that’s not just your refined palate talking
Devin: Amore, far more than my palate is refined
Luna: It’s your own fault really for making excellent pasta
Devin: And you and Joey for making excellent baking
Luna: Oh, that reminds me, when you were out on your run the twins were playing with their food truck stuff, it was adorable
Devin: Aww! Did you take a photo
Luna: Better, I got a video
Devin: Yes! Show it to me when we’re home okay? I don’t see any of my friends with cameras but you can never be too sure
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Luna: Are the paparazzi our friends
Devin: They agree not to post any photos of the kids so I’d say so. You know some places there are no social norms against it
Luna: Really?
Devin: Yeah. Some paparazzi will battle it out for shots of babies and toddlers to put in magazines. Some places have had to make it illegal to take photos of a minor. Thank the watcher Del Sol Valley is not that kind of place
The pair finish up their meal, pay their bill and get set to head home. Technically they still have Joey on babysitting for another half hour. They decide to sneak to their bedroom for some alone time before Joey hands back the twins to enjoy his Saturday night.
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Having browsed the profiles in the area Joey has found one he’s intrigued by. As normal he only goes for profiles of women that indicate they don’t want anything serious or long term. This one is a bit older than the average women he’s with, but something about her makes him accept the match and agree to meet at the local nightclub.
Joey: Marianna?
Marianna: Joey? I didn’t think you’d be as young as your profile picture. Most people on here use an older photo. I once had a “35 year old” who turned out to be 50!
Joey: I hope I’m an improvement. You look every bit as good as your picture
Marianna: Flattery will get you everywhere. Although I am surprised you accepted my match, I figured I’d be too old for you
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Joey: Age is just a number, normally one not too tied to experience
Marianna: *laughs* Well I’ve certainly had experience
Joey: I’ll do my best to keep up
Marianna laughs as a blush spreads across her cheeks. For a moment Joey wonders if it’s all of her that has blushed as she almost looks like she’s in a pink haze. That idea seems to be pushed from his mind as soon as he thinks it though. He shakes his head to try get his bearings back.
Joey: Marianna, we are at a nightclub. Would you care to dance?
Marianna: I’d love to
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The pair head inside and Joey feels himself relax. He’s a bro, places like this are a second home for him. Initially the two dance around each other but following a few drinks Marianna pulls Joey over to one of the small loveseats surrounding the floor to give him a dance of his own. Joey thinks she’s glowing in these lights, and again that though disappears as quickly as it appeared.
Marianna: Forget small talk, let’s find somewhere quieter
Joey: Are you sure? We could go back to my place
Marianna: No, I don’t want to wait that long
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There’s plenty of small pockets of space snaking off the dancefloor and Joey and Marianna find one that’s quiet but where they can still hear the beat of the DJ booth. Marianna pulls her top off and Joey stares at her chest in delight. Before he can make a move however she jerks his chin up and looks him in the eyes. He feels his mind sharpen.
Marianna: Are you okay with us doing this
Joey finds himself thinking back on his past hook ups, few of which could be called conventional. Yeah, he wants to do this. He’s just about to start explaining that he’s aromantic and absolutely consents when Marianna smiles and leans in to kiss him deeply and passionately. Almost like she’s read his mind. The focus goes away and again he’s swept up in his desire.
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Joey is glad of the chance to feel her properly. Despite the age starting to show on her face she obviously kept herself fit.
Joey: You are beautiful
Marianna: And you are hard
She presses down firmly causing him to jerk up in response. Watcher he wants her so bad. As if in a dream he watches her undress fully and finds himself wondering if they’ll be seen, but again that thought vanishes. Marianna removes his pants and Joey is glad to find himself unconstricted as she turns and slides on to him. Joey thinks all kinds of words that his parents would scold him for using as she moves herself back and forth. All he can utter however are moans, getting more and more lost in the moment. He opens his eyes at the change in pressure only to see Marianna smiling between his legs. When she’s finished Joey pulls her in for a kiss. Before he can thank her he feels his senses dull and his vision go black.
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Hi friends! You may be confused but since it's a semi cliff hanger I'd just like to assure you Joey consented to that woohoo and he is not going to get assaulted in the next part so... try not to freak out even though he's unconscious.
Previous ... Next
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ros3ybabe · 2 years ago
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Daily Check-in - August 7th, 2023 🎀
So, it's been an emotional last two weeks. Mental illness is never a fun thing. I slipped off from taking my meds and as a result became inconsistent with my goals and daily routines. I felt powerless to myself. I stayed in bed as much as possible, cried constantly, and had no energy for even the simplest of tasks.
But, I'm feeling better, and I even accomplished some of my goals/daily habits today! I managed to begin taking my meds again, and am still in contact with my therapist. I'm bound to have rough days, rough weeks, and even rough months. I just remind myself that it's okay to feel these rough moments for what they are, but to not let it make me spiral or keep me held down. I believe in my ability to care for myself, and listen to my current needs when I am in a depressive state as I have been. There's nothing wrong with low energy days. There's nothing wrong with needing a break. There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself. 🩷
🩷 What I Ate Today:
Breakfast - Was not feeling it today but needed to eat for my medication, so I had three hashbrown patties with some ketchup. And, of course, a cup of coffee.
Lunch - A delicious turkey and cheddar lunchable with one serving of lightly salted cashews. The lighter the lunch, the less tired I am when I get off my lunch break.
Dinner - I ordered some domino's pizza and cheesy bread because I was craving it, only ate 2 slices of both but it was sooo good and now I have leftovers!
Snacks - One cup of coffee after I got off work and a few bites of Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream, which is currently my favorite ice cream.
Water ~ not enough, I made the mistake of forgetting a reusable water bottle when I went to work, so I didn't really start drinking water until like, 10am.
It's not my cleanest, healthiest, or best eating day, but I'm happy that I listened to what I wanted. Not every day will be like this, and that's okay. Moderation and balance are key <3
🩷 Workouts - Pilate Abs
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Again, I love this one to start of my ab day! arts easy enough for my little plus sized self to accomplish and makes me feel proud for even attempting thus video and completing a workout!
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I also love this one by Madeleine as well, her workout videos honestly just click with me and I am here for it! This one wasn't completed fully as I have a bit of trouble completing plank exercises, but as I continue to build strength and better my form, I know I'll get to a point where they will become easier
🩷 Habits I Accomplished Today -
Made my bed
Morning workout
Morning and Night Skincare
Morning guided journal
For my first day back on routine I'd say this is a win! Being able to complete any of my goals and habits for the day is definitely a good thing, and I'm proud of myself for accomplishing what I have today.
🩷 Song of the Day: Cake - ITZY
SHAKE IT SHAKE SHAKE IT SHAKE BUSS IT UP BUSS IT UP
My girl Yuna did so good in this song, and all of their outfits are cute and the energy is there and they all look so happy and this song makes me want to get up and dance. I may or may not be trying to learn Yuna's lil dance part....it's so satisfying to watch!!
That's all for today! Pretty proud of the way things have gone, and hopeful that tomorrow will also be a nice day for me. It feels good to be posting again!! I missed this <3
Til tomorrow, lovelies!!
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ralith · 1 year ago
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Kiss Roulette 14: a Kiss to the stomach for Humanformers Retired Trio
Sorry for the wait! I hope this is fluffy and sweet enough to satiate even Ironhide's sweet tooth.
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"You know, this isn't how I wanted to die," Ironhide moaned painfully, rolling onto his back in hopes of easing the agony. "But if I meet my end tonight, I'm glad your face will be the last thing I see."
Ratchet gazed down into those pained eyes of the soldier laying across his lap. His own stare was hardened.
"You're not dying, fool. You just ate too much cake and now you're paying for it."
"It's my birthday. I can eat what I want."
"Just because you turned fifty-nine doesn't mean you should eat fifty-nine hundred calories in one sitting!"
"I reduced the sugar content in the strawberry filling," Optimus called out from kitchen where he was cleaning up from their dinner.
"Okay, so it's closer to fifty-seven hundred calories." Ratchet rolled his eyes. This was why they rarely kept pie or cake in the house aside from special occasions. The temptation to consume it all was too great for the old warrior. Keeping icing alone in the house was bad enough. Ratchet had one time walked in on Ironhide having a midnight snack of cookies that was he smearing with cake icing like cheese on crackers.
"C'mon doc," Ironhide stretched and shimmied up further so his stomach was settled more prominently atop Ratchet's lap.  "Your beloved husband is in agony. Don't you care?"
"You. Did. This. To. Yourself." Ratchet jabbed a finger into Ironhide's side with each word. The soldier responded with an annoyed grunt.
"Optimus! Ratchet isn't giving me the sympathy and adoration I deserve on my birthday!"
There was a chuckle from the kitchen and Optimus stood in the doorway, toweling off his hands.
"Are you antagonizing our birthday boy?"
"Optimus, he ate half of a cake large enough for ten people."
"Well," the older man began, tossing the towel onto the table and joining his husbands in the living room, sitting on the floor between Ratchet's legs. "I take Ironhide's enthusiastic consumption as a compliment, given I baked the cake. Now, it's Ironhide's birthday. Let him enjoy it how he wants. Instead, we should think of some way to ease our dear husband's suffering." Optimus gave Ratchet a playful, pleading look. "Do you have any suggestions?"
Ratchet glanced between the faces of his lovers and knew he wasn't going to win this battle. It was Ironhide's big day. He could ease up and let the soldier enjoy the rest of his day.
"Well, there is one technique I know of. But it's experimental at best and the success rate is only moderate."
"Oh, I'd do anything for our husband. What is this technique?"
Ratchet smirked and hooked a finger beneath the hem of Ironhide's shirt, pulling it over the man's torso until it bunched up at his neck.
"Belly kisses," Ratchet stated matter-of-factly. The doctor dragged his fingers through the thick, dark trail of hair that covered the warrior's chest and stomach and dipped further south. He scraped his nails lightly against the skin as he went. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ironhide's toes curl.
"That treatment sounds excessive for a low success rate, but if that's what you recommend..." Optimus moved to a kneeling position. He brought one hand to hook behind Ratchet's knee, and the other to rest on Ironhide's chest, where he rubbed and kneaded the well-toned pecs while he dipped his head to meet the soldier's belly.
He kissed the warrior like he was worshipping the other man, exploring the rising and falling expanse like it was the first time tasting him. Teeth and tongue worked over each scar marking old injuries, and Optimus's hot breath left Ironhide groaning at the sensation and clutching the couch.
While Ironhide squirmed and Optimus sucked reddened marks into the soft mound, Ratchet watched the two, relaxing back into the sofa. He occupied himself by tracing the zig-zagging stretchmarks that decorated the soldier's sides and lower stomach. He followed each one as if drawing a map on the warrior's body.
Ironhide was in heaven. No longer did he feel the dull ache in his gut, now approaching over-stimulation by the lips and fingers that teased him. Could every birthday end like this?
"How are you feeling, love?" Optimus exhaled hot against his skin.
"Better, but...," Ironhide ground out.
"If you're not feeling completely healed, I know one other course of treatment." Ratchet brushed the knuckles of his free hand along Ironhide's cheek and jaw while the other tugged teasingly at the waist of his pants.
"I think I know what you're proposing, Ratchet," Optimus smirked. "But isn't that treatment highly invasive and...intimate?"
"Extremely. But the succes rate is much higher if we work as a team. Can I borrow your hands for this?"
"You can have all of me, doctor."
"What do you say, Ironh-ough!"
Ratchet grunted as the soldier struggled to his feet in record time.
"You two better be in the bedroom in ten seconds."
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beakzine · 1 year ago
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BEAKZ FAQs!
- Who are you?
BEAKZ is run by Mod Tawny and Mod Masked, moderators of the Doctor/Master Anon Kink Meme on AO3. Check it out for examples of what we're going for with the zine!
- Who can apply?
Anyone over 18 who can show at least one example of their work. It doesn't matter if you're popular or relatively unknown, new to the fandom or long-established: the KinkZine wants you!
- Will I be accepted?
Whatever example(s) of your work you submit will be judged on their own merits. If your examples prove you can produce a solid, finished piece that we judge to be of good quality, there's a good chance we'll bring you on board!
- How do I submit examples of my work?
There's a question on the submission form to link your work, and another question to upload files directly. Regardless of whether you're providing fic or art, you can use either.
- What should my examples be?
Anything showing your style and your ability to finish a self-contained piece. Kinky/explicit content is good to see, but not required. For fics, we prefer to see one-shots, to match what you'll write for the zine. Otherwise, don't overthink it 💜🩵💛
- What is my pitch?
Your pitch is an idea for art/fic that you might end up going with for your final piece. Key word is MIGHT, since it's all subject to change. Your pitch can be as half-baked as you want at this stage. Again, don't overthink it!
- Does my pitch have to be explicit?
Not necessarily, though of course we're expecting a lot of explicit ones! If your pitch is unquestionably kinky, even with no explicit sex or violence, that's more than enough to merit inclusion.
- Does my pitch have to be kinky?
That depends on your definition of kink, which is a whole can of worms in itself! But we're looking for more than a vanilla sex scene here. Find an angle, whether sensual, emotional, physical or any combination of those, and work with it.
- Is anything off limits?
Practically nothing. Anything allowed on AO3 is allowed here. The zine will use an AO3-style warnings system so readers can choose what they want to see (and skip over the pages they don't).
- What are prompts?
Prompts are ideas/inspiration you want to provide to everyone involved. They can fall anywhere between detailed to vague vibes. See the AO3 kinkmeme for examples.
- Any deadline for the applications?
We're seeing how far/fast our applications post travels first (and feel free to help it along)! Once we feel applications are slowing down, we'll post a deadline with a reminder to apply.
- Wait, DEADLINES? 😱
Don't panic! We're aiming to be as gentle & permissive as possible, to make it low-stress for all involved. There WILL be deadlines for contributors, but we'll give you plenty of time, with check-ins to ensure you're on track.
- What if I can only write something short/draw something simple?
That's okay! If you're chosen for the zine, that proves that we like what you do. Any finished piece you create from there, we're happy to accept as long as you've fulfilled your pitch.
- "Anon" kink zine?
Yes, each work will be published anonymously under a bird-themed pseudonym. Feel free to say, in public or in private, which bird your work is under. Or keep it secret!
- Why birds?
It came from the acronym, BEAKZ. Also, birds are just great. (This is our mascot, Tufty! They've been instrumental in helping us get the zine together. Everybody say "thanks, Tufty"!)
Still want to sign up? Tufty says “you can do so here!”
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dietitiangagan · 26 days ago
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Quiting some foods is not the solution to your Diabetes Management
By Dietitian Gagan – Best Dietitian in Chandigarh for Personalized Diabetes Care
When it comes to managing diabetes, many people think that cutting out entire food groups is the answer. They quit carbs, avoid fruits, or even skip meals altogether—believing this will help control blood sugar levels. But here’s the truth: quitting certain foods is not the solution to your diabetes management. In fact, it can make things worse.
As the best dietitian in Chandigarh, I’m here to help you understand why balanced nutrition—not restriction—is key.
The Myth: Eliminate to Control
Many individuals with diabetes fear foods like rice, roti, bananas, or potatoes. The belief is simple—“These raise my sugar levels, so I must stop eating them.” But managing diabetes isn’t about elimination, it’s about moderation and smart choices.
Foods like fruits, whole grains, and even natural sugars can be part of a healthy diabetic meal plan when portioned and paired properly.
The Real Goal: Balanced Blood Sugar
The goal is not to eliminate carbs or sugar completely. Instead, it's to maintain steady blood sugar levels. That means:
Eating regular, balanced meals
Including fiber-rich foods
Pairing carbs with protein and healthy fats
Choosing low glycemic index (GI) foods
Skipping meals or cutting out entire food groups can cause nutrient deficiencies, energy crashes, and even spikes in blood sugar later.
What You Should Focus On Instead
✅ Portion Control
Eat the foods you love—but in the right amount. A small bowl of rice or a medium banana can fit into your diabetes plan.
✅ Smart Pairing
Combine carbs with proteins or fats. For example, eat fruits with nuts or have dal with brown rice. This slows sugar absorption.
✅ Mindful Eating
Eat slowly, avoid distractions, and listen to your body’s hunger signals.
✅ Balanced Plates
Half your plate should be vegetables, one-quarter protein, and one-quarter complex carbs.
Common Foods You Don’t Need to Quit
❌ Fruits: Bananas, mangoes, and grapes are okay in controlled portions. ❌ Roti or Rice: Choose whole grains and stick to 1-2 servings. ❌ Potatoes: Boiled or baked, in small amounts, are fine when not deep-fried or overloaded.
Work with the Best Dietitian in Chandigarh
As the best dietitian in Chandigarh, I help clients build sustainable eating habits that fit their lifestyle. Instead of restricting foods you enjoy, I guide you to make better choices that work for you and your health.
Final Thought
Quitting your favorite foods isn’t the solution to managing diabetes—understanding how to enjoy them smartly is. If you’re looking for a sustainable, personalized diet plan that controls your sugar levels without making you feel deprived, it’s time to connect with Dietitian Gagan.
Let’s build a plan that works with your lifestyle, not against it.
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verosnacks · 1 year ago
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Sticky Toffee Pudding
Ingredients:
Toffee Sauce:
2 1/2 cups heavy cream, divided in half
1 stick unsalted butter (4 oz)
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1 cup granulated sugar
Cake:
6oz pitted dates (like 7 dates, pref Medjool)
3/4 cup water
3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1 pinch salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
Vanilla ice cream, for serving
Instructions:
Toffee Sauce:
In a medium saucepan, combine 1 and 1/4 cups of cream with 1 stick of butter, corn syrup, and sugar. Bring to a boil.
Cook over moderately low heat, stirring, until a deep amber caramel forms (like 40 min). It's okay for mixture to be bubbling.
After sticky, carefully whisk in remaining half of cream. Mix well.
Strain sauce through sieve into a bowl to get rid of clumps (I didn't do this, it was fine...)
Cake:
In a small saucepan (or use a shallow pan), simmer dates in water over moderately low heat until the water is nearly absorbed (~15 minutes). Stir to create a paste.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.
Lightly butter 6 4-oz ramekins
In a small bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
In a medium bowl, beat butter with brown sugar until light and fluffy. Then beat in egg and vanilla, and then date puree.
At low speed, beat in dry ingredients.
Spoon batter into ramekins and smooth the tops
Bake for 20 minutes (I would reduce this to 15)
Assemble. Syrup, cake, ice cream, cake, more syrup over top.
Notes:
02/13/2024 -
Used 1/2 ratio for toffee sauce and 1/3 ratio for cake batter, would probably taste much better if used actual recipe
Cake was dry, need to add a touch more butter but also we lost some splash while we were melting/warming it up.
Cake was burnt on sides/top, was bitter. Temperature of toaster oven is unpredictable, would want to use 325 instead of 350 next time. Maybe cook in water bath, but that's a lot of effort.
Toffee sauce difficult to make because Jacob didn't cook it on high enough heat, also I think the butter and sugar should go in first instead of everything at once. I'd look for a recipe for a different toffee sauce. It turned out too thin at the end, I would want a thicker sauce. Jacob was impatient to EAT IT, but if it were up to me we would have cooked it longer. The cakes were pretty simple to make.
My hair feels gross after cooking this for 1.5 hour in our kitchen. Probably all the oil from cooking down the toffee sauce.
02/25/2024 -
Actual measurements this time, ratio is so much better.
Baked @ 325 for 20 minutes, that was more like it. Still kinda gooey at the end, but just let it sit in the hot oven and it will be done.
Toffee sauce turns darker when microwaved
Source: https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/sticky-toffee-pudding
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gloopydoops · 2 years ago
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I'm sleep deprived so it's time for another half baked rant about extremism being dumb and ai and shit being okay in moderation and shit uhh fuckin let's see lemme take out my notes uhhhh moderation good uhh ai can work in moderation but the human spirit adds some whimsy ubhh hold on I'm a bit eepy lemme just. Where'd the note cards go? Uhh I swear they were just in my pocket. Hold on sorry this is really embarrassing I had like an actual point here but my uh note cards are like gone. Gjhold on a second I could sword they were just right there. Just gikm mr a secon
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Who the hell is this guy why is he in my house ehat th duck. Where he con from. Why is he becoming me. I'm inclined to enter but I'm really fucking sleep deprived so maybe I shludnt but also like oh he's grabbed me
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What the mother fuck is that. Why am I entering that. Why is this doctor taking my here. Oh fuck oh shit AAAAAAÆEEEEEEE
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Who is this man
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wellmosphere111 · 2 years ago
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Navigating the Challenges of Eating Healthy and Maintaining a Wholesome Dining Out Experience
Introduction:
In today's fast-paced world, the pursuit of a healthy lifestyle has become a top priority for many individuals. A significant aspect of this journey involves making mindful food choices, even when dining out. While the intention to eat healthily is admirable, it's not without its challenges. The enticing aroma of decadent dishes, the allure of convenience, and the social aspects of dining out can all conspire to undermine our commitment to a balanced diet. In this article, we'll delve into the hurdles that come with eating healthy while dining out and explore strategies to ensure a wholesome dining experience.
Tempting Menus and Portion Sizes:
One of the major challenges of dining out is the irresistible allure of indulgent menu items. Restaurants often entice patrons with descriptions of rich, flavorful dishes that may not align with our nutritional goals. Moreover, portion sizes at restaurants tend to be larger than what we might serve ourselves at home, making it easy to overeat and consume excess calories.
Hidden Ingredients and Nutritional Information:
Deciphering the nutritional content of restaurant meals can be a daunting task. Many eateries don't provide comprehensive nutritional information, leaving diners unaware of the calorie, fat, and sugar content of their chosen dishes. Hidden ingredients, such as high levels of added sugars and unhealthy fats, can sabotage our efforts to eat healthily.
Social Pressure and Peer Influence:
Dining out often involves social gatherings with friends, family, or colleagues. Peer pressure and the desire to fit in can make it difficult to stick to healthy eating habits. Choosing a salad while everyone else is indulging in rich, savory dishes can sometimes feel isolating, leading us to give in to unhealthy temptations.
Lack of Variety and Limited Options:
While many restaurants are beginning to offer healthier options on their menus, the choices may still be limited. Finding a variety of well-balanced, nutrient-rich meals can be a challenge, especially when dining at establishments that prioritize taste and presentation over nutritional value.
Maintaining a Wholesome Dining Out Experience:
Despite these challenges, it's entirely possible to enjoy dining out while still adhering to your maintain a healthy dine out eating goals. Here are some effective strategies to consider:
Plan Ahead:
Research the restaurant's menu online before you arrive. This gives you the chance to identify healthier options and make a well-informed choice rather than succumbing to impulsive decisions.
Mindful Ordering:
When placing your order, opt for grilled or baked dishes over fried ones. Choose lean protein sources, such as chicken or fish, and ask for dressings and sauces on the side to control your intake.
Portion Control:
Consider sharing an entrée with a dining partner or asking for a to-go container right away to pack up half of your meal before you start eating. This helps prevent overeating and allows you to enjoy the leftovers later.
Customize Your Order:
Don't hesitate to make modifications to the menu items to better suit your dietary preferences. Ask for substitutions, extra veggies, or whole grain options whenever possible.
Practice Self-Control:
Remember your long-term health goals and stay focused on them. It's okay to indulge occasionally, but strive for balance and moderation.
Conclusion:
challenges of eating healthy while dining out may present its fair share , but with careful planning, mindful choices, and a commitment to your well-being, it's a hurdle that can be overcome. By arming yourself with knowledge, prioritizing balance, and embracing healthier options, you can enjoy a delicious meal while staying true to your commitment to a healthier lifestyle. After all, achieving a sense of well-being and vitality is worth every effort you put into making nutritious choices, even when dining out.
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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years ago
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the absolute best quotes from bdylanhollis's vintage baking tiktoks
• "thought this was a joke. turns out im the joke."
• "you can use a mixer, i just do this to feel something"
• "fold in sauerkraut carefully. or what? im going to ruin your disaster?"
• "can a cake be tried for treason?"
• "either chocolate fixes everything or this is alchemy"
• *disgusted chewing noises* "DEMON BABY!!!"
• "before pumpkin pie became king people ate this....now they're dead."
• "combine all ingredients except for pie shell. were you rEALLY WORRIED I WAS GOING TO PUT A F U L L Y C O N S T R U C T E D PIE SHELL INTO THIS?"
• "im a fool, not an idiot."
• "its like reading directions to purgatory"
• "now we have carbonated mayonnaise lime water"
• "MARSHMALLOWS!! with the m a y o??"
• "chop up your dehydrated cow"
• "it tastes like it's insulting me"
• "and its not just a little bit. no. its a severe unauthorized CUP of mayonnaise."
• "honey you cant dilute a war crime"
• "you know its horrible now but i hope it turns out okay. like children."
• *beans boiling over in a pot* "ahhhhHH BEAN REBELLION!!"
• "eggie!! how many? i don't know. it just says EGGS."
• "did you just kill my blender?" *broken blender noises* "hello?" *insane maniacal laughter* "this is personal now. you swung first!!"
• "why are you good? yOU HAVE A BAG OF BEANS IN YOU!!"
• "one of the many questionable substances people experimented with in the 70s...pistachio pudding."
• "smells like a palm springs retirement home"
• "nixon wished it was this easy."
• "this was the cold war after all. fear of communist bananas was at an all time high."
• "the 70s. sponsored by the color beige."
• "its uncomfortably appetizing"
• "meat and desserts was quite common back then. so was botulism."
• "'honey would you like earl gray or pork?' 'ill take a divorce'"
• "sweet, bitter and meaty. like my ex."
• "don't say it dylan" *2 seconds later* "CIMMANIMM!!"
• "350 for two and a half hours! i suppose any less and it might gain consciousness."
• "its a little late in the century for war crimes."
• "are you just making things up? who are you??"
• *opening a can of spam* "you know ive never been particularly religious. but today might be the day."
• "a cup of evaporated milk?! have you lost the plot?!"
• "i feel like if i do this correctly im going to invoke the spirit of richard nixon"
• "this aint food honey this is a bioweapon"
• "sir your phone number is 4 digits"
• "well i don't have sorghum because i don't have a life expectancy of twelve"
• "thats the power of pine sol baby!"
• "bake to your liking. sweetie none of this is to my liking."
• "this is what id imagine a toilet brush to taste like"
• "this is why we don't perform lobotomies anymore."
• "should be a pale white." *holds butter up to arm for comparison*
• "i bet this recipe is just all the wrong answers on a baking test."
• "smells like dentures."
• "not bad dead people"
• "its incredible. and im mad about it."
• "sift your flour three times. lady your cake has tomato soup in it, this is thE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES!!"
• "'911 whats your emergency?' 'yeah that lady carol is at the barbecue again.'"
• "careful not to over mix. sorry im just trying to kill it."
• "now i know this is going to be awful because it calls for soured milk. not buttermilk, not milk and vinegar, no honey sOURED B A D MILK!"
• "disgusting wasnt enough for you?!"
• "call the U.N."
• "bake until done. you're a piece of work."
• *plays accordion on his kitchen floor*
• "tastes like a shower drain or a bunion"
• "this recipe was sent to me by herbert hoover feet pics. theres something for everybody"
• "are you nine inches yet?? said 14 year old me."
• "i suppose its better than eating your offspring"
• "oh betty crocker WHAT ARE YOU UP TO??"
• "you could just use canned pineapple. if you were a communist."
• "can you bake a pie with four ingredients? yes! i could also eat my mattress."
• "add three gils of water. was this written for a fish?"
• "i think this qualifies as a preexisting condition"
• "unconstitutional!"
• "its a breast implant"
• *clunking from the cabinets* "i think ive summoned something"
• "it seems to have collapsed. like the south."
• "the slogan for this cookbook is 'it's digestible'"
• "remember kids the main ingredient in pie pastry is self doubt"
• "fry in two tablespoons of crisco. on this episode of dead white people."
• "i didnt know tuberculosis had a color scheme"
• "ive baked a toilet."
• "how am i supposed to know how big your teacups are, ira?"
• "why do dead people like dates?"
• "easy does it. wouldn't want to ruin a disaster."
• "'ira honey i'm going to war.' 'over what?' 'your cooking'"
• "tastes like a boot. like a size 10 boot."
• "why just live in the great depression when you could also have chronic diarrhea"
• "it wants me to plumpen my prunes in water. well i won't be plumping my prunes in just anything. buy me dinner first."
• "it looks like a failed grave robbery"
• "walnuts aint gonna save this recipe sweetie"
• "you know its not bad it just vaguely tastes like a felony."
• "'where you goin with that tuna dylan?' 'oh you know just making jello"
• "this recipe is making me cry, not the onions"
• "are we sure this recipe wasnt written by a cat?"
• "it already looks like the great depression"
• "bake in a moderate oven. no need to get political"
•"don't tell gordon ramsey"
• "it tastes like a question mark. but a good question mark"
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phdmama · 2 years ago
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On a Wednesday, In a Café
(For @phoebe-delia who puts up with me and lets me pop in to ask things like WHO INSULTED TAYLOR SWIFT’S SENSE OF HUMOR?? This is just a tiny little vignette inspired by Start Again. I think this also fits for @drarrymicrofic and the prompt “hope” - in a way.)
The café is weirdly busy for a Wednesday morning. 
Draco is moderately disgruntled. He’s used to having the place to himself — his Wednesday mornings are sacred. It’s the one day of the week he can sleep in, as he doesn’t have to be at work until after lunch, and he loves coming to this small, cosy coffee shop. He always gets the same thing, the largest café au lait they serve with two shots of vanilla and whatever savoury scone they’re baking that day, and he always sits in the same place, one of the big comfy overstuffed armchairs in the corner by the fireplace. He reads whatever journal he’s brought along and he eats his scone and he drinks his coffee and it’s just. Really nice. That’s all. 
Okay, at least today, no one is in the other armchair, so when Draco sits down and pulls out his journal, maybe it’s a little louder than usual, but things are still fine in his world. He’s managed to tune out the sounds of the people around him, reduced them to background white noise as he reads up on the latest innovations in cauldron technology (spoiler alert: InstantCauldron™ is a misnomer because it does not, in fact, do all the prep work for you even if it does brew in less than half the time a standard cauldron takes, so there’s really nothing Instant about it, not that Draco is bitter). In any case, he’s focused on what he’s reading which is why at first he doesn’t really register the words that he’s hearing.
“Did you hear about…”
“I read that…”
“Did you know he…”
And Draco doesn’t even have to look up to know what’s happened.
Potter is here.
Draco slowly lowers the journal to his lap and learns that he is, in fact correct. Standing at the counter in a pair of ratty jeans and a giant hoodie is one Harry James Potter. His hair is ridiculous and his trainers have seen far, far better days, but he is, as always, infuriatingly handsome.
Except for the tension that Draco can read clearly in his shoulders, the way his eyebrows furrow in a frown, and the way he’s glaring suspiciously at the cashier. He has his reasons, Draco knows.
Late last year, some eight months ago now, Potter had come home from a mission to find his live-in lover in bed with not one, but two young men. Not just any young men, it turned out, but two young men who were high on the Ministry’s Most Wanted List.  Potter had arrested them all on the spot (Draco has to give him credit for a cool head under what had to have been rather stressful conditions). When the now-ex was out on bail, the first thing he’d done was go to the press and air all of Potter’s… Well, not dirty laundry exactly. None of what Potter gets up to in his own bed chamber is particularly sordid or shocking (some of it sounds like great fun, actually) but it is, well, private. 
And privacy is a luxury Harry James Potter has had very little of. 
Potter accepts his drink, and turns around, eyes scanning the room as if searching for the knife he knows is aimed at his back, but then he catches sight of Draco and something very strange happens.
Potter’s shoulders drop, the lines in his forehead smooth out, and then, shockingly, he smiles.
Draco blinks in confusion but no, his eyes are not deceiving him. Potter is raising his cup to his lips and taking a sip, never breaking eye contact, and then, after he swallows, that smile still playing about his beautiful lips, he starts walking toward Draco.
“Anyone sitting here?” His voice is low as he nods towards the empty chair next to Draco and for a moment, all Draco can do is stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Malfoy?” Potter prompts and Draco shakes his head.
“Oh, sorry. No. No one’s sitting there,” and to Draco’s deep astonishment, Potter sits down.
Potter leans back, cross one leg over his threadbare knee, and takes another sip.
“So,” he says, “how have you been?”
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oh and mischa too!!!
Okay I just wrote the penny one and I am on a ROLL so. Mischa bachinski my beloved
- First of all. Mischa has two hands and I won't hear otherwise. Talia is REAL damn it but Mischa is also bisexual and in love with Noel. End of
- He watched the titanic for the first time on the phone with talia and cried EMBARRASSINGLY hard. Not embarrassing because he's supposed to be manly or whatever, embarrassing like he woke up the next day and his eyes were almost swollen shut from crying so hard. Like that movie really affected him
- Noel would ask to watch it with him and he'd immediately say no because he doesn't want to be literally dehydrated from crying again
- He would put talia on the phone during choir and everyone would talk to her (more like them telling Mischa what to say and him translating but they all love her)
- Ocean would insist on singing whatever song they're working on for her and she'd just sit there like wow 😁👍!!! She has no idea what's going on but she's along for the ride
- He is trying to teach everyone Ukrainian to moderate success
- he has an annoyed siblings relationship with ocean which everyone says but seriously!!! They get on each other's nerves so much but ocean would kill a man for him and he's DEFINITELY gotten into a fight for her
- picks ocean up like a folding chair and carries her around. Or like a cat under the armpits and so she's just dangling there
- absolutely terrified of rollercoasters but went on the cyclone anyway because he's a manly man. Obviously. But then he died
- literally almost threw up getting off the graviton. Thought he was literally going to die
- wholeheartedly believes in Santa. Literally will not be convinced he isn't real. Everyone in the choir feeds into this and says their presents to him were from Santa and were dropped off at their house instead of his bc he doesn't have a chimney (in like an everyone lives situation cause yk they weren't really friends before)
- really it's because his adoptive parents didn't get him anything but he doesn't have to know that they're supposed to be santa
- is actually genuinely successful on YouTube 😭 nobody wants to believe him and I doubt the choir before the accident cared to check they just half listened to him talk about his songs like "yeah that's great buddy" but he has a pretty decent following
- I'm sure a good amount of them are ironic but that's okay
- he'd get one of those "THIS SHIT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 PUT IT OUT 🔥🔥🔥" comments and take it as a compliment
- has unmedicated ADHD. I don't make the rules I only enforce them
- he literally can't sit still in any situation at all ever, nor can he focus on anything if there isn't 5 other things going on. Constantly understimulated. Constance would give him a fidget spinner and his grades would immediately go up a letter or two
- honestly Mischa and constance are best friends in my heart
- she would try to teach him how to bake/cook and he would burn everything
- "Mischa no wonder it's burnt! It's been on high for 15 minutes it's just a grilled cheese" "why cook for long time on low heat when I could cook for short time on high heat 🤨??" "because it will burn before the cheese melts!!!!"
- Ocean is PISSED that he's always at Constance's house when she goes over to hang out (she would spend virtually all her time there fr) but Constance's little brother loves him
- wears almost exclusively sweat pants/giant t shirts with ironic slogans. "The worst day of fishing beats the best day of 'court ordered' anger management classes'"
- the kind of mf to wear gym shorts and slides in 4 inches of snow like dude 😦
- lets noel paint his nails every time they hang out. immediately forgets they're painted and either smudges it or if it somehow manages to dry bites/picks it off immediately
- he will never complain but he hates the way it makes his nails feel heavier
- ocean would get him a sticker book to motivate him to do his homework (his grades are not good and if they get too low he won't be allowed to participate in choir)
- so now his books/homework are covered in stickers
- spends a devastatingly long time on his hair only for it to immediately be ruined when he leaves the house
- it's almost impressive how quickly it just turns into a total mess
- that's what the hat is for
- regarding my penny rock head canon. He gets SO EXCITED when she gives him one
- "this reminded me of you" *least visually interesting rock you've ever seen* "YOOOOO IT IS LIKE ME!!!"
- not a big fan of the bugs though
- genuinely terrified of them. He'd see penny with bugs and feel like ants are on him for the next several minutes
That's all for rn cause this is getting long!!
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xiaq · 4 years ago
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Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)
Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.
I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???
(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)
CW for sex talk (again)
How does one get over purity culture?
Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.
Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.
According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.
Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.
You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.
The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.
Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.
Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)
Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.
*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).
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utterlyinevitable · 3 years ago
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I wish you would write a fic where Ethan accidentally gets high with Naveen and MC catches them.
Ask for something weird and you shall receive! This is more hc than fic, hope you don’t mind xxx
@openheartheadcanons: crack, ethan x f!mc, naveen
Grass at the River
Ethan had gotten to Naveen’s cabin early in the morning, as if it was a work day. The retired diagnostician had just gotten back from a 2 month long trip in Oceania. A trip Ethan begged him not to take - especially so soon (8 months, in truth) after recovering from an accident. 
Naveen told Ethan not to worry. He’s fine and managing. But Ethan had none of that. Back then he took a week off to take care of his friend. Now he’ll be there to assess his second father-figure and rush him back to Edenbrook if needed. 
Well, Naveen is back and wouldn’t dare argue. He loves having his family around. 
As Naveen was unpacking in his room, Ethan was tidying up the kitchen and living space that’s sat idle all these weeks. Unused, and yet there were fresh baked goods wrapped up and sitting on the counter. 
Ethan shakes his head at the old man’s sweet tooth and polishes one off. 
Oh, Darling Ethan went back for seconds, really eating something he shouldn’t have. 
“When did you have time to bake?” Ethan asks, interrupting Naveen in his motions. 
Naveen looks up from the drawer he was rifling through, “What’s that?”  
Ethan shows him a half-eaten cookie. 
“Oh, my boy...” 
Naveen stops what he’s doing and ushers Ethan into the living room. 
“How many have you eaten?” he asks, his dark eyes gleaming and thick brows pulling together. Naveen looked both amused and concerned.  
“Two,” Ethan replies, befuddled beyond belief as he’s led to the couch. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
Naveen motions for him to sit. In any other circumstance Ethan would argue, be defensive and defiant. Not at this moment, the softness in the old man’s face has him doing as he’s told. 
“Those aren’t just any cookies,” Naveen informs.  
A world of emotions pass over Ethan’s features as the words settle in. Surely they’re cookies - they’re edible - he hasn’t choked or had any sort of reaction at the moment. Ethan’s mind travels to fancy soap.. but why on earth would there be soap wrapped in plastic in the kitchen? 
Naveen can’t help but bite back the smile threatening to creep up as he observes his friend’s face contorting. 
Then Ethan goes pale. 
Ah. 
“Why do you have these?” he holds the cookie up still in his hand, azure stare boring into Naveen. 
“Pain management,” he says. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s legal now. And frankly, my friend, you could really loosen up. It’s natural.” 
“It’s drugs.” 
“It’s herbal and it works.” 
Naveen leaves for a moment then returns with a large glass of water and a book to read. Ethan sits straight as a board and awaits whatever to happen. Impatiently waits for it all to be over. 
Time ticks by and Ethan can hear every second passing on that old coocoo clock. 
An hour later, Naveen meets Becca at the door. She took a half day at work to meet two of her favorite minds for a late lunch. 
Standing on the porch, his face says it all. 
“What happened?” she asks. 
Naveen’s smile grows and he whispers, “Someone got his hand stuck in the cookie door.” 
“No!” she shrieks.
Naveen nods. 
Becca can’t help but chuckle to herself. It was only a matter of time before Ethan found out about this little secret. Truthfully, no one expected him to find out first hand. 
She goes to Ethan - brushes hair off his forehead. He’s leaning against the cushion now, back still the picture of terse posture. His eyes are closed and she sees he’s hating every minute of this. 
“Aw, baby,” she coos. “You okay?” 
His eyes open slightly, somewhere between hooded and stink-eye. “Moderately.” 
She’s smiling broadly now. “Can’t believe you got high without me,” she chides playfully.  
Later he’ll grill her about what she means and how she knows about this little remedy. But for now her touch is soothing. So he’ll pull her onto the couch, lean in so his head’s on her shoulder, and listen to them chatter until he feels right enough to move. 
Then he’ll seriously consider throttling them both.  
____________________________
a/n: this is certainly a thing that happened LOL idk what doctor uptight has against weed but ok u do u E
> complete masterlist <
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@udishaman  @binny1985  @honeyandsunfl0wers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @ohchoices  @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy  @stygianflood   @openheartthot @senseofduties  @tsrookie  @kalogh @aworldoffandoms  @takemyopenheart  @ethanramseylover @a-crepusculo @randomperson111   @anntoldst0ries  @aishaaaaaaah @estellaelysian @mysticaurathings @mayarambles
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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago
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Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!
This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 
Double-Blind: 5K
Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?
The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—
“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”
“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.
“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”
Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”
“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”
Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”
Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”
Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.
Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”
Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.
“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.
Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”
“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”
Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.
“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.
Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.
--
Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.
“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”
Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.
“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”
“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”
Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”
Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”
Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”
Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”
Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.
“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”
Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.
--
Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.
Hey whats up?
No, that would be so weird.
Hiya, this is martin!
Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?
Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.
Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.
Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)
As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.
----
It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.
The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”
Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”
“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.
“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”
“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.
Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—
They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.
An unknown number flicked across the screen:
Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)
i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.
if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)
Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.
Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.
Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.
…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.
Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.
----
Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.
dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.
btw i never got your name?
Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.
As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.
Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?
________________________________________________________________
Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.
Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.
They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.
----
Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.
He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.
“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.
“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”
Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.
Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”
Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.
They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.
“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”
Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”
“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”
“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”
“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”
Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”
“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”
“Oh? And what are you studying again?”
“English Lit-hey!”
Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”
Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”
“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.
“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.
“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”
Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.
Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”
They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.
Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”
Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”
“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”
Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”
Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”
Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”
It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”
“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.
Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”
Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”
Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.
----
The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.
Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.
“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.
“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.
Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.
Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.
Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”
“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.
Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.
“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”
Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.
The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.
Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.
“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”
Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.
“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”
Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”
Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.
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