#no one asked for teh recipe but here you have it anyway

[wwjgyd]

shionumi replied to your photo: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEI WUXIAN! Who needs cake?”:

Don’t forget to tell us how it tastes if you don’t die lmao �� (Yeah, who need cake anyway, sugar is for the wEaK)

It tasted great but I didn’t manage to finish the whole bowl (the bowls are bigger than they look and ngl every bite hurts)

But anyway I got more balls than Xue Yang and if that isn’t an accomplishment then idk Feel free to try it yourself: Ingredients were chicken stock, sliced cabbage, sliced garlic, rice, fresh chilies, a bit of sesame oil, fish sauce and whole lot of gochujang. (I just threw in what was in the fridge and I felt like)  Just add gochujang until it has the right color...

[yikesharringrove]

Happy Birthday to @negativenuggetz! (it never lets me tag you??) Here’s just a little fluff 🥰

Modern au

-

Steve threw the cup dramatically in the trash.

“How ‘bout you chill with the rage, Dingus?” Robin was leaning on her elbows over the counter, picking at her nails.

“How ‘bout you chill with the judgement?” He set to work making another mocha latte. He just couldn’t get it right.

He was trying to memorize recipes, couldn’t keep spending ten minutes looking at recipes when there was a line out the door.

Robin got him a job at the coffeeshop on lower campus, and he was not good at it.

“Whatever. Are you still down to cover my closing tomorrow?” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Of course. You’ve asked me like, six times.”

“Just gotta be sure. Don’t wanna keep Heather waiting.” She winked at him. He stared at her blankly.

-

He was sprinting through campus, had fallen asleep ater class and was gonna be late to Robin’s shift.

He checked his watch. He had five minutes to make it ten minutes away.

He stumbled through the door in about seven, red faced and sweating, breathing hard as he threw on his apron.

“You’re not Robin.”

Steve’s coworker for the night was sitting on the back counter, looking down his pierced nose at Steve.

“Covering, covering for her. She’s got,” he was huffing through his words. “She’s got a date.” The guy’s blue eyes lit up.

“No shit? She finally nut up and ask Heather out?”

“Nah, I think Heather asked her first.”

“Well, either way. Good for them.” He slid off the counter, holding out a hand to shake Steve’s. “I’m Billy.”

“Steve.” He wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans before taking Billy’s hand.

“You usually do opening, or?”

“I mean, I’m pretty new. Only been here three weeks or so. But I usually do midmorning with Robin.”

“Well, you’re gonna like closing. ain’t got shit to do until we have to clean. Nobody comes in here past four, they’re just at the library.” Billy reached up to tug at his blonde pontail. Steve tracked the movemnt of his arm, the way his bicep flexed through his tight shirt.

Hot damn.

“So, should we ask all that good college shit? Like what’s your major? Where are you from?” Steve laughed at teh simpering voice Billy put on.

“I mean, only ask if you actually wanna know the answer.” He wasn’t doing too bad, returning all of Billy’s lazy smirks, serving his lines right back to him.

“Tell me everything, Pretty Boy.” Steve’s face went red. Billy 1, Steve 0.

“Um, I mean, not much to tell. I’m from Indiana. I’m still undeclared. I’m kinda like, if the color beige was a person. That’s what Robin said.” Billy threw his head back and laughed. It filled the little shop, seemed to reverberate around the walls. Steve liked it.

“Nah, I don’t see beige for you. Maybe like, forest green. That’s what you are.”

“What color would you call yourself.” Billy grinned at him.

“That’s not how it works. You gotta tell me what color I am.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Then fine. Billy Hargrove 101: I’m from southern California, I’m studying physics and I work here and at the student gym. Color. Now.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Fine, bossy. Blue, maybe.”

“Shade.”

“Come again?”

“Shade. Like what shade of blue.” Billy said it like he was long suffering, like Steve was somehow inconviencing him.

“Um, light blue. Ocean blue.” Billy beamed.

“Correct.” He patted Steve on the back once as he moved to start restocing cups for the openers. Steve hoped he didn’t see the way he went red, the way he shivered after the little touch.

“So, um. Physics. You’re like, pretty smart then.” Billy gave him an odd look. Steve didn’t meet his eyes, was picking at his fingers.

“I would say so.”

“Are you, how are you with calculus? ‘Cause I’m in calc 100 and I’m, it’s not going well.”

“Student center has tutors.” Steve licked his lips.

“Well, the calc tutor, I kinda, I kinda had a thing with him, and like, ghosted him pretty hard, so I just, I can’t go to him for help.” It was silent in the shop. Steve felt like his heart was pounding.

And then Billy roared with laughter again. He had tears in his eyes when Steve looked up at him. He smacked his shoulder.

“It’s not funny! I’m failing a class!”

“Failing a class because you hadta get your dick wet!” Steve flushed. He was doing that a lot.

“Wasn’t me that got my dick wet.” He muttered it through his teeth, thought Billy wouldn’t hear over his laughter, btu then he spluttered, had to reach under the counter for a black water bottle, doing quite a lot of it as he choked. “Can you just help me?”

“Well, sure, Pretty Boy. But it’s gonna cost ya.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“I was gonna offer to pay you anyway. How much you want?”

“No, not like that.” He had calmed down, his face just a little ashen from hacking up a lung earlier. “We’re gonna go out, and you’re gonna pay. Then we’ll call it square.” Steve swallowed slowly.

“What like a, like a date.” Billy just stared at him.

“Was that not clear?” His grin was slowly retuning. Steve liked the way it spread over his lips, reached all the way to his eyes.

“No.” Steve was gonna hold his ground goddamnit.

“My apologies then.” And then Billy tugged the legs of his tight jeans a little, just enough so he could get down on one knee. “Dear, sweet, Princess. In exchange for helping you with your calculus, you can repay me by letting me take you on a date, and then by paying for everything on said date. Please grant me your hand in...date.”

Steve shoved him lightly as he laughed, failing in knocking Billy off balance whatsoever. He gave a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. I guess.” Billy tossed him his phone.

“Put your name under Pretty Boy, so I don’t have to change it later.” Steve bit his bottom lip as he did just that.

“You better text me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything but.”

[captain-aralias]

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

oh hey - it’s trivia tuesday already (i guess it’s been a long two days back at work this week). i know everyone is still working their way through the remixes that are finished and posted - and i say, do this! some cracking stuff. i’m over half way through now, and i want to write up some thoughts about how these 26 stories approached remix - because it’s super inventive. i think people benefited from not being familiar with the format.

but i also wanted to share my thinking around why i picked the fic to remix that i did - and what else i was considering from @bazzybelle‘s ficlist, because i think the thought process around remix is interesting. AND i wanted to show you the 500 words i wrote almost immediately of a completely different remix that i definitely won’t finish. it would have been... a publishing AU, fake relationship with too-early-in-the-relationship sex. all good things in a fic, right?

so - read on for deleted scenes, and discussion of thought process. and don’t read on, if that’s not your jam. 

(in general remember - i’m keen to leave stuff in the original that’s good, rather than just thieve everything. so that’s my thought process here.) 

first idea: 

I Just Want Your Extra Time And Your .....

(texting, sex chat). i already really liked this fic, and i have IRL experience of working in publishing (which you’ll see to some extent in the fic - i worked very near people who worked on celebrity cookbooks, which is what baz works on in the fic) (the launch party is not revealed to be at the groucho club in the bit i wrote, but would have been - and i’ve been there/i know soho, so ... that was all appealing)

my idea was: the original is a text fic, mine isn’t, although they still only know each other through the sex chat set-up. so instead of simon and baz having text-sex (as in the fic), baz asks simon [who he's never met] to come and be his fake date at a publishing launch party where he sees lamb, his former boyfriend. 

the trigger for simon and baz progressing with their relationship/having sex (Because they were going to have sex but IRL) would be the same - baz seeing lamb and freaking out. and some of the texts would be literally copied and pasted in my fic as backstory. 

here were my original notes:

in the original fic there's a bit where baz sees lamb, his ex boyfriend, and then is like - hey, simon distract me and they have phone sex

my fic will essentially start there - baz is at a launch party for one of his books, lamb is there - dating the author. it is awful. baz wants to leave, but can't. also, it's time for the text slot with simon - he goes and hides in a cloakroom

and is texting simon, it's terrible - i am so drunk and it's still terrible. and i think simon offers (rather than baz asks) to come and pretend to be his boyfriend

for some sort of plausible denial reason like baz will text him a lot over hte next few days so he'll get a lot of extra money or some shit, but also because simon thinks lamb is a dick even through teh messages

simon shows up - they both drink a lot. they like each other, simon punches lamb (probably). baz asks if he can take simon to a restaurant, they talk more - they kiss. they go back to a hotel together. they discuss whether or not this means that simon is a prostitute (no). they have sex IRL

baz wakes up - and leaves immediately, obviously.

they text again the next day - it's awkward. simon thinks about how he could track baz down if he wanted to - but he feels like baz doesn't want him to, so he doesn't

simon gets out of his horrible job - baz probably tries to get in touch with him, but can't because he's gone. simon gets a message from baz ....... this is still to be determined

anyway - i will probably steal the meet cute in the elevator, it's nice.

why i stopped writing it: 

i knew it was going to take ages to write - i didn’t have the time or brainspace to write 20k of fic. i’d assumed going in that i could lean on the original fic to provide the meetcute, but realised that since it was an AU, i still needed to sell the relationship - particularly given that they were meeting in real life for the first time in my fic. 

also, it would have been my first mundane AU for the fandom, and my first thing where they weren’t enemies first. (so i was trying to think about how i could get them not to like each other a bit WHILE STILL doing fake dating - and it was throwing me off). it was all just too much.

everything i’ve written is pasted for you at the bottom.

other ideas: 

a month passed. i didn’t write any more on my original remix, but went back to greener grass instead. i sent out the month warning email to remixees and thought - i am not going to finish this fic. 

so, i went back to the list of bazzybelle’s fic and thought what can i write that i can definitely write in a month? 

1. You're F***in' Perfect to Me - daphne POV

i thought, i could write this from malcolm's POV.  in the fic daphne talks a lot about how she and malcolm are just friends, rather than true love, and it's baz she has real (motherly) feelings for, not malcolm. so i thought i could write 'the courtship of mrs grimm' where malcolm gets a wake-up call from this argument, and thinks, i actually do love daphne but she likes my son more than me. he's been hiding behind not wanting to sully natasha's memory, etc, etc. fiona would probably be in it. 

2. bat baz

i also had a bit of a naff idea where instead of baz turning into a bat, in bat baz, he would turn into bat man... 

(interestingly one of the remixes was about baz turning into a cat) 

3. If I Fell In Love With You - which i eventually chose

i took the dancing and the music, the set up, and the theme of communication - also some dialogue. pushed some of the focus onto baz’s relationship with niall, pushed the action back in time towards wayward son, added a truth spell (based on a spell in the original) to force communication.

i think this is one of the most interesting remixes i’ve ever done, btw. i’m really pleased with my take on it. 

i chose this to remix because i thought - it’s only a few scenes, rather than a whole get-together arc, and it felt achievable in the timespan. i also had a strong idea about what i could do that was different - the relationship with niall and the spell, and what i would leave for people to discover in the original (simon’s POV - including the warmth he feels when baz cooks for him, the two of the resolving the initial fight when simon comes home in a bad mood). 

the title is a combination of - another line from ‘if i fell’ but one that is about not talking to each other/not putting yourself out there... and ‘where words fail’ - which is the spell i used, and also picks up on what baz says to niall - that telling simon wasn’t enough. even if he’d had the right words, they wouldn’t have been believable. but - through the music/magic, they were able to communicate. 

i also considered using a line from ‘into my arms’ instead (I believe in some kind of path), since that was the song that the magic is cast on - but it didn’t work as well thematically. 

here’s the fic i wrote: Don’t Run and Hide (The ‘Where Words Fail’ Remix’)

and here’s the remix i didn’t write. i think i almost wanted to finish it just for the elvis gag. alas, alas.

I Just Want your Extra Time: remix, not written

BAZ

I don’t smoke as much as my father thinks I do. And I don’t drink – not usually. This evening, though, I’ve already had several glasses of champagne and I’m on my fourth cigarette, the second this smoke break. Because it’s that or go back inside. And I definitely don’t want to go back inside.

I should have known he’d be here.

Not that he was invited. Not that he’s on the guest list. Not that there’s any reason at all, in fact, for him to be here, except that my life is an absolute disaster. Today definitely not an exception.

If anything, it’s worse than usual. I thought I’d already hit bottom when Dev told me I had to ring our printers – in China – and get them to promise to ship one of our new titles three weeks early, as some idiot had sent the press release out with the wrong date. That was excruciating, but things seemed to be improving.

It’s a launch party night. I’m not sure why, but I always look forward to them, even though I hate crowds. (Niall would probably say, other people in general. And he wouldn’t be far wrong.)

But I get to wear a suit. (Tonight’s is Spencer Hart. Dark grey. Green tie.) And I know Snow is going to text after the first hour. And even though no one ever remembers to thank the editor – not unprompted, anyway – I do enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I’m responsible for turning whatever dross we’ve been told to sell into something that could loosely be called a book.

This one is a cookbook by an actor (not a chef, in other words. I had to hire someone else to write the recipes and then we just photographed him next to the result.) It should be a triumph. It is – we’ve already sold several thousand copies. I should be enjoying myself. But then I heard a voice next to my ear.

“Baz.” And someone put a hand on my waist. “Don’t you look rosy?”

Not someone. Lambert. (I never called him Francois, even when we were intimate.) As irritatingly handsome as ever. And just as confident I’ll do whatever he wants.

I haven’t seen him for months. Not since he left me Las Vegas to go off with one of the better-looking Elvis impersonators. (And if that isn’t the most humiliating break-up story you’ve ever heard, then I really don’t want to know what is. Dumped. And for Elvis.) (Not even the real Elvis - not that it makes a difference.)

“I hoped I’d see you here,” he – Lambert – told me. “It’s been far too long.”

“Since you left me.”

He gave me a hurt look. “Baz. We said Auf Wiedersehen, not goodbye.”

“Who are you really here with?”

The author, of course. I watched their eyes meet across the room and Lambert smiling, before he told me it wasn’t serious. And that he’d be interested in taking me to dinner.

“Unless you’re seeing someone?”

I raised an eyebrow – even though I know Lambert knows I only do that when I can’t think of anything to say. Which means he probably knows the truth, which is that there isn’t anyone else. Not anyone else real, anyway.  

Which reminds me …

I check my watch – it’s later than I thought.