#these are actively producing more tomatoes

[anipgarden]

Behold!!! TOMATOES!!!

[ohbo-ohno]

idk if any of you have peacock/have seen ads for their show "teacup" but i can't stop thinking of smth similar with ghost (entirely unedited)

like, you buy a house out in the middle of nowhere - maybe a cabin, just to get away from society a bit. and you say you won't stay for long, but then you get used to things, start enjoying the peace and quiet you get away from all other human life, and you just... stay.

and then one day you go outside, and there's a giant spray painted ring around your house - enough for you to walk a bit but not so much that you can reach your garden. and there's a man standing maybe fifteen feet past the line, wearing a mask that covers his face, but clearly just staring at you. he's massive, casts a shadow that crosses over the line, but almost unnaturally still.

he tells you that he won't cross the line, that everything past it is still yours and safe. but if you cross the line in any way, you're his. the fact that you won't last long without food from your garden isn't something that needs to be said, you're already taking stock of the food inside your pantry.

you'd gotten comfortable out here in the wilderness, with your garden producing everything you could want. you never got into canning - bought a book on it, but never even cracked the spine. it's so much work, and you were perfectly happy with going to the garden before dinner and throwing something together with what you could get.

but now you're stuck. you see the man outside your window sometimes, walking around and around and around the circle, never passing it. every room in your house has a window, and there are days where you feel like he's following you, every time you glance outside he's just there.

you don't see him at night. you have no idea where he goes - god knows if he ever sleeps, you're not sure if he's even human - but you can't see him in the dark. the light from your windows doesn't stretch to the line, and the moon isn't enough to make him visible. once the sun goes down, he's just gone.

that's what gives you the nerve to step outside one night, long after it's gotten dark. you're hardly breathing as you tip-toe towards the line, eyes trained on your poor neglected garden - it's been several days since he first arrived, and no one has tended to your poor food. you're not even sure what you'll be able to get, if he's really gone.

he seems to be, or at the very least you certainly can't see him when you stop right at the edge of the line and look around. your flashlight illuminates the edge of the forest as you scan the trees, the circle of light smaller than you'd like. there's nothing.

you stand there for several more minutes, just staring at the food only a few feet out of reach. there's plenty of food that you know has already gone to waste, but you're hoping, praying there's enough to fight off your hunger just a bit, just long enough that you can think past the ache in your stomach long enough to attempt a plan.

(you'd been unable to think the first 24 hours, a creature of panic and nothing more. by the time you'd calmed even a bit, you'd been so hungry you could hardly breathe, then gotten sucked back into your panic after one look at your barren pantry. why had you never bothered to save food?)

your first step over the line feels like a crime. you almost squeeze your eyes shut just to wait for something to happen, but you force yourself to keep your flashlight active, not letting your eyes settle as you scan the forest again and again.

each step feels like you're stepping on glass, heart in your throat. it's dead silent in a way you've come to know the forest never is. the only thing keeping you from darting back inside is the desperate, animal need to eat.

you fall to your knees at the edge of your garden, plucking as many cherry tomatoes from the vine as you can, shoveling them in your mouth without even checking for bugs. there's nothing here but you and then man in the forest.

they burst on your tongue, cold and juicy and tangy and delicious. you feel delirious, having gone more than three days without eating by this point. the tomatoes could be spoiling on the vine, dotted with rot, and you'd still savor them like they're nectar.

you drop your flashlight after the first mouthful, desperate to use two hands and grab as many of the fruits as possible. the light illuminate just a small section of the trees ahead of you, blades of grass casting high shadows.

you only notice how much you've lost focus when the flashlight flickers off next to you. you can't move for a moment, juice dripping down your chin, paralyzed at the thought that he's somehow snuck up on you, made it to your side and taken your only light.

but he's not by you, you're still alone. you can feel it acutely, some instinct at the back of your head saying predator near, hide but not screaming in the way it had on that first day, when you'd been closest to him.

still, you're on your feet in the next moment, fruit abandoned in the dirt as you sprint back to your cottage. your not far from the circle, just mere feet, but it feels like an insurmountable distance.

you can feel him, he's right there you know it. the forest is quiet, the only sound the crunch of grass beneath your feet and your heavy breaths, but you swear you can hear his voice echoing in your head. not an inch past that line, love. then you're mine.

it's not a surprise when you're tackled to the ground, not really. still, you scream, tomatoes already churning in your gut and bile gathering in your mouth. your nails claw desperately at the colored grass, so fucking close to your safe haven, your cage.

"got you," he hisses over your shoulder, so heavy over you that you can hardly get in a breath. you scream soundlessly, face contorted in tear as you break your nails in your desperate digging. "you're mine."

the lights from your cottage seem like hardly more than the flame at the end of a matchstick as you're dragged away, your strength nothing compared to his as you're taken further and further from the safe haven he'd allowed you. by the time you hit the tree line, you don't have the energy to even try to scream.

[artificial-transmutations]

4k! Dropout Dorm 2

Aiden coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"No, I don't think so..."

Marvin walked towards him, slowly. Thankfully, Marvin only went to the window to open it before packing his bag. 

"Aren't you going to get out of bed soon?" Marvin asked. "Classes are about to start! 

Of course, that wasn't all that easy. Under his blanket, his body was still covered in spurts of cum that Aiden smeared into the fabric and all over himself with every movement. 

"Go ahead, my classes don't start for a while, and I'm really sleepy" he lied while faking a yawn. Apparently, the innocent Marvin bought his lie and left for class. Once the room door closed, Aiden bolted out of bed. As he had feared, the inward facing side of his blanket as well as his torso were wet with sticky cum. However, Marvin had also been right about classes. He had no time to clean up properly or take a shower now, that would have to wait until the afternoon. Aiden quickly used his towel to wipe off the worst from his body and turned his blanket, so the dirty side faced down. He threw on some clothes and was almost out of the door when he noticed that the window was still open. Not having anything stolen was definitely more important than a smelly room, so he closed the window and hurried to his class. 

Aiden made it to class, just barely. He didn't have any trouble following the professor but was distracted by himself. As the day progressed, Aiden noticed that he was smelling a bit. The sweaty activity this morning combined with the dried up seed under his clothes and the lack of shower produced a bit of a smell. It was probably nothing anyone else would notice, but still, Aiden was very self-conscious about it and resolved to taking a shower when classes were over. To make matters even worse, it was a moderately hot summer day, and Aiden was sweating under his long sleeve shirt. He didn't want to open it on the other hand in order not to disturb anyone with his smell. 

Marvin was the first to return to the 'dropout dorm'. When he opened the door, he immediately noticed the stale air. For understandable reasons, Aiden had closed the window when he left the room. Apparently, the time it had been open had not been enough to get rid of the strong aroma two sleeping guys produced. 

Marvin considered opening the window again but decided against it. The sun was burning down outside and opening the window now would only make the room heat up unnecessarily. Besides, he almost didn't smell it anymore. 

With this rationalization, Marvin started up his PC, to get his assignments done. He had a few days for them but doing them immediately didn't hurt. 

However, Marvin found it hard to concentrate today. Perhaps it had been the new experiences during the last few days, but he was feeling rather aroused. His small dick had gotten stiff, and he found himself readjusting his crotch often while trying to concentrate on his assignment. 

Finally, he gave up. It had been long since he had been this horny. He just needed to get it out of his system, so he opened a porn site. As he was nestling on the button of his pants however, without a warning, the room door opened. 

Marvin panicked, and his face became red as a tomato. He simultaneously shoved his shirt over his thankfully small bulge and hit the power button of his computer, not caring that he lost what little progress he had made on his assignment. 

Thankfully, Aiden, who came into the room, had not noticed anything out of the ordinary but regarded Marvin with a curious look. 

"Hey Marvin. Why are you shutting down your computer?" 

"Oh, uhm, hi Aiden. Yes, I'm... eh... I mean I have to go, that's why!" 

"Ah, cool, where are you going?" asked Aiden in a friendly tone while letting himself fall to his bed. 

Crap. He needed a good excuse. Classes were over for the day. Without thinking much, he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "I'm going to the gym!" 

"To the gym?" Aiden asked bewilderedly. 

"Yes, I thought there is no harm in trying it out once, haha!" Marvin said and went through his drawer to retrieve some never used gym clothes. 

"Alright! Have fun!" said Aiden, secretly happy he would be alone in the room because of that.

Marvin dressed quickly, grabbed his backpack and left the room. 

Finally alone, Aiden, who was still lying on his bed, sighed a sigh of relief. Now, he had time to clean up, change his sheets and shower. He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested. He took a test sniff on his armpits. Yep, they smelled pretty intense, at least compared to his usual body odor. What was a bit odd though were the bushes of brown hair that prominently looked out from his armpits. Had he always been so hairy there? He couldn't say - that was something he never noticed much. It smelled really sweaty, though. When he scratched the hair with his hand, it felt damp with sweat.

Aiden smelled his fingers that just had scratched his pit, just to be sure. Yes, definitely a strong odor. He repeated the experiment on his other armpit. Same result. Aiden's head was swimming and for some reason he was really horny again. His dick strained against his pants and demanded attention. Good thing Marvin was out. It was pretty unusual for him to feel the need to jerk off twice in a week, let alone twice in a day, but Aiden thought nothing of it and got to work. 

As his right arm pumped up and down, the smell from his armpits was shoved into the room with each movement, for some reason making Aiden even more aroused. As he was getting close already, however, this wasn't enough anymore. As best as he could, he buried his nose in his armpits and took a deep breath. Ohhhh yes! That sensation brought him over the edge and more cum splattered against his body. Some missed his chest and hit his pillow instead, forming wet patches on the linen.

Aiden exhaled. That was unusually intense. He looked down on the mess he made. He should clean that up. But right now, he felt really tired, and Marvin would surely be out for a bit, so he still had some time. He grabbed his discarded shirt and wiped over his chest, letting the fabric absorb his sweat and cum, while spreading the rest more over his body, before letting the cloth fall to the floor without spending a further thought on it. Time to relax for a bit. 

With this thought, Aiden snuggled himself into his stained bed and slumbered away.

Meanwhile, Marvin arrived at the gym. What was he even doing? He could just pretend he went to the gym and return half an hour later. But then again, this would just be wasting time, and he did buy the gym clothes in case he wanted to try out the athletic offerings of the college at some point.

Under no circumstances had he expected this to be the case on his very first day here, but he might as well. 

Thankfully, there was nobody there to see him, as he changed into his gym clothes and so he entered the foreign territory in his oversized clothes with a bit of apprehension. But there was nobody in here as well, so he could basically do whatever he wanted without making a fool out of himself.

Where to start... There were the treadmills of course, but after closer inspection, the devices looked pretty complicated, and Marvin didn't want to damage anything (or himself) by pressing the wrong button on it. What else... There were weights. Those are pretty straightforward, Marvin reasoned. Just grab the weighted sticks and lift them, repeatedly. There was probably no way he could do that wrong. 

So, Marvin grabbed some weights and started to lift them up. Even though he started with the smallest one, it was surprisingly heavy, and Marvin went out of breath pretty quickly. He looked at the dumbbells again. They looked really tiny, especially compared to the other versions with much bigger discs. He wouldn't let himself be defeated by those! He grabbed them again and continued lifting.

Once he found his rhythm, the lifting became somewhat easier, and Marvin actually started to enjoy himself. Sweat was running down his body in rivers, drenching his light shirt, but he didn't care. He felt good! 

Marvin lost track of the time for a bit, but he had been working out for at least an hour, maybe two. During the last half hour or so, he even had switched to the next bigger disc size and found he could lift them as well. When he finally had enough, though, he noticed that there were other people working out in the gym now. He hadn't seen them come in, so focused has he been on his own lifting. 

The problem was, there were also other people in the locker room and shower. Marvin really didn't fancy showering with other people, so he decided to just shower in their dorm room.

When he entered the 'dropout dorm', he saw Aiden slumbering in his bed. He was shirtless and his arms hung over the bedframe, exposing hairy armpits. On the floor, a crumbled up shirt was lying, and the whole room smelled a bit... ripe. Marvin smiled. Poor Aiden, he must have been really tired. Best to let him sleep instead of opening the window. Besides, Marvin himself was so sweaty he was pretty smelly as well, he was sure of it. Time to hit the shower!

As he let the hot water run down his body, Marvin noticed a couple of things that seemed odd. For the first time in ever, he noticed some really small amounts of definition on his slim body. While that could probably be explained by the strain on his muscles from the workout (the word 'pump' didn't mean anything to Marvin), there were two more observations that were harder to explain. There were a very few small hairs on his chest, and overall, his complexion was a tad darker, like he had a tan. He didn't have a tan for all his life! It must have been the moving boxes in the bright sunshine yesterday, Marvin rationalized.

After finishing his shower, Marvin worked on his assignments for a bit, but stopped quickly. It wasn't really fun, a mixture of boring and surprisingly difficult at times. He had clearly underestimated the difficulty of his assignments. Perhaps he would have to take a fresh look at it tomorrow.

Furthermore, his body was acting up again. Even though his workout was now several hours ago, he was still sweating like mad. His butt left a wet print in his chair when he stood up and sweat kept dripping down his body and into his eyes. As if that wasn't bad enough, he was constantly hard. Of course, with Aiden sleeping just a few meters away, there was absolutely no way he would do anything about it right now, he would just have to endure it. His gaze went to the sleeping Aiden more than once, without him even noticing, taking in the incredibly hairy armpits and sparse hair on his chest (were those there before?) subconsciously.

Surely, there would be an opportunity to care for that tomorrow, Marvin reasoned as he shut down his computer and went to bed as well. 

With his dick tenting his blanket, he drifted off to sleep.

Things are set in motion! Read the previous part here. The next part is waiting here.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Market Hearts - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1751

Summary: When one notices their lover's joy in a rather odd place, why would they not join in on the feeling?

Benedict Bridgerton, the second son of the Bridgerton family, had never imagined himself spending a morning in the bustling streets of the London market.

It was an unconventional activity for a gentleman of his stature, but then again, you were anything but conventional.

Y/n Bridgerton, you were a woman of singular character.

You possessed a spirit as free as the wind and a heart as generous as the summer sun.

From the moment Benedict had laid eyes on you, he had known that his life would never be the same.

Marrying you had been the easiest decision of his life, but understanding the full depth of your soul was a journey he was still on.

This morning was to be another chapter in that journey.

“Benedict, you don’t have to come with me,” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you adjusted the basket on your arm.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your house, casting a warm glow on your hair.

Benedict, already dressed in attire more suited for a morning ride in the park than a trip to the market, shook his head with a smile.

“Nonsense. How can I resist seeing where you disappear to every week? You speak of the market as if it were some magical land.”

“In a way, it is,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s full of life and color, of people with stories etched into their faces. It reminds me of how fast the world is.”

Benedict studied your face, noting the earnestness in your eyes.

This was not merely a chore for you, it was an adventure, an exploration of humanity that fed your soul.

It was one of the many reasons he loved you so fiercely. How could he not join you on this journey, even if only for a day?

“Then lead the way, my love,” he said, offering you his arm.

You walked through the streets of Mayfair, a picture-perfect couple that turned heads wherever you went.

Benedict, with his tall, lean frame and dark, wavy hair, cut a dashing figure in his tailored coat and polished boots.

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of grace and beauty.

Your gown, a simple yet elegant affair in pale blue, highlighted your form and the natural radiance that seemed to emanate from your every pore.

As you moved further away from the more affluent parts of town, the cobblestones grew uneven, and the scent in the air shifted from the delicate aroma of roses to the more earthy smell of baked bread and fresh produce.

The market was already bustling with activity, despite the early hour.

Stalls lined the streets, filled with everything from ripe fruits and vegetables to bolts of colorful fabric and handmade trinkets.

Benedict quickly noticed how out of place he was.

Gentlemen of his rank did not frequent such places.

He could feel the curious glances of the vendors and the wary looks of the other shoppers, but he paid them no mind.

His focus was on you.

You greeted the stall owners by name, engaging them in friendly conversation as you perused their wares.

Benedict watched as you haggled over the price of a plump tomato with an elderly man, your laughter infectious as you bantered back and forth.

It was a side of you that he rarely saw—a side that was not burdened by the expectations of society, a side that was free and unguarded.

“Y/n has a way with people,” the voice of an elderly woman cut through his thoughts.

Benedict turned to find a small, wizened woman standing beside him, a knowing smile on her lips.

She was dressed in a simple brown dress, her hair hidden beneath a white cap.

Despite her humble appearance, there was something regal about her bearing.

“Indeed she does,” Benedict replied, his gaze drifting back to you, as you were helping a young mother choose a handful of carrots while keeping the woman’s children entertained with a funny story.

The old woman chuckled. “She has the gift of seeing people, really seeing them. It’s a rare thing, especially among those who live in the world you come from.”

Benedict studied the woman, intrigued by her words. “And what world would that be?”

“The world of titles and wealth, where appearances matter more than hearts,” the woman said, her tone gentle but firm. “Your wife, she sees past all that. She sees the soul.”

Benedict felt a stirring in his chest, a mix of pride and something deeper—something almost like reverence.

The old woman’s words rang true.

You had always had an uncanny ability to connect with people, to make them feel seen and valued, no matter their station in life.

“She is my sunshine,” Benedict found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could think better of them.

The old woman smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “And you, young man, are her moon. You reflect her light and give it back to her when the night comes.”

Benedict looked at the woman in surprise, but before he could respond, she gave him a small nod and shuffled away into the crowd, leaving him standing there, contemplating her words.

He had always known that you were special, but seeing you here, in your element, made him realize just how unique you truly were.

You were a beacon of light, brightening the lives of everyone you encountered.

And it was his duty, his privilege, to protect that light.

As you continued your journey through the market, Benedict found himself more and more in awe of you.

You moved with a grace that belied the chaos around you, your laughter like music amidst the cacophony of voices and sounds.

He saw how the sellers’ faces lit up when they saw you, how the children gathered around you, drawn to your warmth like moths to a flame.

But he also saw the challenges.

There were moments when your cheerful demeanor was met with coldness or indifference, when your attempts to connect were rebuffed by those who were too hardened by life’s difficulties to appreciate your kindness.

And it was in those moments that Benedict felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him.

He had always been a man of action, a man who could solve problems with a few well-placed words or a deft stroke of his pen.

But here, in this vibrant, unpredictable world, he realized that there were some things that required more than just his influence or his name.

Here, it was you who held the power, and all he could do was stand by your side and support you in whatever way he could.

“Benedict,” your voice brought him back to the present.

You were standing in front of a stall selling flowers, a small bouquet of wildflowers in your hand. “Aren’t these lovely? They remind me of the fields near our home.”

Benedict smiled and took the bouquet from you, bringing it to his nose to inhale the sweet scent. “They are lovely, but not as lovely as you.”

You blushed and playfully swatted his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Only because you inspire it, my dear.”

As you continued to browse the stalls, Benedict felt a growing sense of contentment.

This was what life was truly about—these small, precious moments shared with the person he loved more than anything in the world.

Eventually, you made your way to a quieter part of the market, where a small café sat tucked away between two larger buildings.

You led him inside, where you found a cozy table near the window.

The owner, a rotund man with a jolly face, greeted you warmly and quickly brought you a pot of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones.

“I come here every time I visit the market,” you explained as you poured the tea. “It’s my little retreat, a place to sit and think.”

Benedict looked around the café, taking in the simple yet charming décor.

It was a place that perfectly reflected your personality—unpretentious, welcoming, and full of warmth.

As you sipped your tea, Benedict reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Thank you for bringing me here today.”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with love and affection. “I’m glad you came. I know it’s not the sort of place you’re used to, but it means a lot to me that you wanted to share it with me.”

Benedict squeezed your hand, his heart swelling with emotion. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Benedict found himself reflecting on the events of the morning, on the way you had moved through the market with such ease and grace.

He realized that you had a rare gift, one that went beyond your beauty or your charm.

You had the ability to bring out the best in people, to make them feel valued and appreciated.

And it was a gift that he was determined to protect, no matter what.

When you finally left the café, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

Benedict and you made your way back to your home, the basket of market goods in tow.

As you walked, Benedict wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve always considered myself a man of the night. I find solace in the quiet, in the solitude.”

You looked up at him, your eyes curious. “And now?”

Benedict smiled down at you, his heart full to bursting. “Now I know that the night is only beautiful because of the sun. You are my sunshine. You bring light to my life in ways I never imagined.”

Tears glistened in your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “And you are my moon. You are the one who gives me the strength to shine, who reflects my light when I cannot see it myself.”

You continued your walk in silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a blessing.

Benedict knew that life would not always be easy, that there would be challenges and obstacles ahead.

But as long as he had you by his side, he knew you could face anything together.

You were his sunshine, and he was your moon.

And together, you would light up the world.

[rottenpumpkin13]

ASG visit a grocery store plz

Shinra has a system where groceries are delivered to the First's apartments upon order, however this time Angeal was inspired to explore the city and suggested they all take trip to the local grocery store for their shopping.

• Sephiroth is in the produce aisle, roaming over the fresh vegetables and rediscovering ones he forgot about—what is a romanesco and why does it look like that? *buys some because it looks interesting* —and then it happens: the sound of a thunderstorm as the vegetables get misted. Sephiroth is like a little kid as he watches, mystified, as the vegetables get showered to the sound of rain. Whoever invented this is brilliant. Sephiroth stands there, waiting for another show for a good 10 minutes before he walks off, disappointed. It should be voice activated.

• Genesis finds the cereal aisle and makes a beeline for the one thing he came here to find: Stamp Puffs: Limited SOLDIER edition! - Now with a miniature figure of your favorite hero inside!

• He grabs the box with his face on it, tears it open excitedly and......HUH? Where's tiny Genesis?? Why is there a SEPHIROTH figurine instead?? This is HIS CEREAL BOX IT HAS HIS FACE ALAKSJAJSHSJ

• Angeal is busy shopping around for the necessities—milk, eggs, yogurt, olive oil, those chocolate-filled snack cakes Sephiroth says are "meant for children and unfit for a SOLDIER's diet" but he ends up eating half a box worth of anyway....

*Angeal spots Genesis opening a cereal box in the cereal aisle. To his left is a pile of opened boxes, to his right is a pile of Sephiroth action figures*

Angeal: Gen, what are you—

Genesis: BLASPHEMY *sets a tiny Sephiroth on fire*

Angeal: I don't know you *walks away quickly*

• Sephiroth finds an entire watermelon. He has never purchased his own fruits before, let alone a watermelon. Sephiroth sees other shoppers slapping their watermelons. He thinks this is standard procedure and slaps his watermelon. He breaks the watermelon in half. Watermelon juice flies everywhere. People are staring. Sephiroth takes off with his smashed watermelon.

• Angeal is still going through his shopping list: garlic, tomatoes, toothpaste, those fun cookies he gives Zack whenever he performs a task successfully that Lazard says is immoral but Angeal will continue to give him anyway.

*Angeal finds Sephiroth looking at a jar of two-in-one peanut butter and jelly*

Angeal: Hey, bud! Having fun?

Sephiroth: This item is a prime example of inefficiency. They deliver a skewed ratio, with a significant percentage more peanut butter than jam, as if they fear exceeding a certain jam threshold, despite jam arguably being the superior component of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Not only that, but by mixing the two, it distorts the distinct flavor profiles achieved when spreading peanut butter and jam separately. And then they have the audacity to charge 8 gil for it. I am disgusted.

Angeal: Why is there a smashed watermelon in your cart?

Sephiroth:

• After opening 33 boxes of Stamp Puffs with his face on it and finding nothing but Sephiroth action figures, Genesis gives up. He starts to walk away when he sees a small child pick out a box with Sephiroth's face, open it, pull out a Genesis action figure, and exclaim "Cool, I got Genesis! He's my favorite one!" — Genesis is now sobbing into a bag of bread. He still has to pay for the 33 boxes of cereal though.

• They all regroup back at the checkout line. Angeal is standing there, mystified as Sephiroth's cart is filled with items such as a gallon of honey, 6 entire boneless sliced hams, several trays of frozen convenience dinners, bubblegum-flavored children's toothpaste, and purple shampoo.

Angeal: Pray tell what the purple shampoo is for.

Sephiroth: An elderly woman in the shampoo aisle informed me that this is very good for gray hair.

Angeal: But your hair isn't—oh never mind. Genesis, what on earth are you going to do with 33 boxes of cereal and 33 Sephiroth action figures.

Genesis: File a complaint to the marketing department. Can you believe all of the Genesis cereal boxes came with Sephiroth action figures? Every single one of them.

Sephiroth: I apologize for coming inside of you.

Genesis:

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi queen here are your slice of life headcanons with iwa-chan, let’s see how good of a boyfie he can be based on the amounts of sol anime i’ve seen..

genre. fluff

for @melukonova <3

hajime iwaizumi x gn!reader.

⌗ walks with you every morning to school because you live in the same neighborhood as he does — so why not go together?

⌗ knew each other from young and through your parents so you kinda grew up together over the years and just stayed really close

⌗ study sessions at each other’s homes are a usual since you each have your strengths at school and wish to help each other to slay those exams later on🤞

⌗ supermarketing together ( yes, yes this was coming, don’t be surprised ) is less boring than going alone, right? especially when you beg him to let you sit in the cart and push you down the many aisles before a stock merchandiser gives you a dirty look

⌗ iwaizumi apologizes for your clownery and takes responsibility

⌗ after an eventful shopping session, you carry the bags together home ( he has the heavier ones and the majority of your own bags )

⌗ there were times where the clerks didn’t double bag and the ones containing produce tore..

⌗ cue you both running down a hill to grab the tomatoes that fell out

⌗ one time oikawa saw and laughed his ass off before gracing you with his assistance

⌗ just like you walk to school together, you also walk home together; iwa doesn’t want you walking alone at night since club activities drag sometimes, so he waits for you or you wait for him

⌗ you guys have a lot of classes together and are deskmates ( yay ), so it’s usually his job to prevent you from nodding off in classes or smacking your head down all together on the table..

⌗ miscommunications aren’t often since you guys have known each other for what feels like eons.. but there was this one time.

⌗ iwaizumi received a letter and it brought a bitterness to your heart as you watched a girl smiling giddily at him

⌗ did she have a thing for him? was it a letter confessing her feelings for him? not that you cared, of course — he was your best friend, nothing more than that

⌗ but was he really?

⌗ after the letter incident, you became a bit distant from iwaizumi, trying to avoid him as best as you can — making excuses to not go to school with him in the morning or return home with him

⌗ until oikawa, that is

⌗ “ah, y/n-chan! i finally caught you! it’s almost impossible to find you anymore, given you haven’t been around iwa-chan..” he’d trail off purposely before sliding his eyes to yours. “is there a reason for that, perhaps?”

⌗ of course he notices.

⌗ “i figured he was busy, so i didn’t wanna bother him..” you’d mumble back to him, avoiding his gaze. part of you felt ashamed that you had been avoiding hajime as you were, but you couldn’t bear to know how things had gone with that letter he was given.

⌗ a hum would leave tooru’s lips before he fished something out of his pocket, holding it up. “does this thing ring a bell, perhaps?”

⌗ and low be hold ( is that how you spell that lmao ), the letter hajime was given.. and tooru had it.

⌗ “a lot of my admirers like to give iwa-chan love letters addressed to me, and that one i assume you saw that day, was also for me.”

⌗ now, you felt like an idiot. of course it was for tooru — hajime was his best friend! he dealt with that bullshit all the time, and yet the one time you witness it.. you freeze up thinking it was for him.

⌗ “um, okay.. why are you telling me this again?”

⌗ “go to the courtyard and see for yourself!” would be his parting words as he leaves with a wink before returning to his classroom.

⌗ weird.

⌗ but you would go, anyway. tooru didn’t say things without purpose, or some kinda motive behind his words — it was just like him

⌗ as you arrive outside, you find hajime sitting under a sakura tree, and you think to yourself of the irony behind that sight, the cliche of it

⌗ he’s staring off into the rustling trees while you approach him carefully before sliding down on the tree, opposite from the side he was leaning against

⌗ “hey.”

⌗ “hey..” you would mumble back before letting out a breath. “i guess i have some explaining to do, don’t i?”

⌗ and so you tell everything you’d concluded after your encounter in the hall with tooru

⌗ long before you would connect the dots, hajime will have done so just by the changes in your expressions

⌗ you liked him. he didn’t think you ever would, considering how good you guys are as friends — but he could tell that you felt the same way as he did.. just that you hadn’t acknowledged it yet or realized for yourself

⌗ that brings up a new question. “riddle me this, if the letter was in fact for me, how would you have felt?”

⌗ pause. what? a who now?

⌗ “it would be weird to see you with someone else.” you finally answered, raising a brow. “why? did someone confess to you?”

⌗ a laugh left his lips as he shook his head. “no y/n, i was not confessed to, i’m just testing something.” he answered truthfully, quieting his laughter. “you said it was weird for you to see me with someone else. why is that?”

⌗ your hands felt clammy. why was he asking so many questions all of the sudden? and why so many regarding how you feel? it’s not like you could explain — even you didn’t understand!

⌗ “because it just- is!” you would blurt in defense, becoming increasingly more flustered with his inquiries. what were you, a criminal? was it a crime to feel a certain way without explanation?

⌗ and then he would shift around the tree to see your face, noting the way you covered your cheeks.

⌗ you gave away so much without even knowing what you were doing

⌗ “okay.” he would begin, letting out a breath. “so what if it was you being with me?” he asked after a moment to think — to phrase it right, as he moved to be in front of you, kneeled on the grass. “what if you were with me, how would that make you feel?”

⌗ you, with hajime? that.. wasn’t something you considered. maybe one time you thought of making a pact to get married when you both reached your forties — but other than that..

⌗ “i don’t know- i haven’t.. thought of it.” why were you so nervous now? the morning breeze made it brisk — why were you feeling all warm?

⌗ “well, then what do you think now if i asked you out, to be with me?” to be more than my best friend, he wanted to add.

⌗ and you were starstruck, completely shocked by the question because hajime, of all people, the least likely to ask this of you, is asking it.. right this second, in front of you.

⌗ no letter needed

⌗ and who were you to refuse when you wanted to be with him, too.

notes. i sped through this with one working braincell so i’m not sure how good this is.. but i hope it fulfills your needs of a slice of life iwa-chan :’)

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[thearcherprentiss]

Criminal Minds as things my friends have said pt. 2

Emily: "At my funeral I'm going to raise up out of the coffin and say 'you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?'."

Hotch: "No you will not. I will double kill you if you do that."

(This one is way funnier in the context of Lauren)

Reid: "Why are there no freaking tortillas in this entire goshdarn kitchen?!"

Rossi: "Woah, watch your language there."

*Henry jabbering on about something*

Emily: "Sorry, I can't focus on what you're saying with all of that Cheeto powder on your face."

JJ: "EMILY!"

Emily: "WHAT? You try listening to someone talk when they're Donald Trump orange!"

JJ: "I'm not going to fight Derek, it's beneath me."

Morgan: "The only thing beneath you is some children. Not all of them though... get it? You're short."

JJ: "Derek, I'm literally 5'7"."

Morgan: "I don't like tomatoes."

Emily: "Do you like salsa?"

Morgan: "Yeah of course, who doesn't?"

Emily: "So what I'm hearing is you're a fucking liar?"

JJ: "What did everyone do this weekend?"

Reid: "I wrote a paper on the orbitofrontal cortex of the brain!"

Morgan: "I don't know how much longer I can defend you when you act like this."

Reid: "I wish we had food here like they do in Greece. It's so much better."

Morgan: "At least we still exist. Greece isn't even a country anymore."

Reid: "Yes it is? Do you actively say these things to make me worry about you, or are you just oblivious?"

JJ, eating a microwaveable macaroni cup: "Something is off about this..."

Hotch: "Did you check the expiration date?"

JJ, emotionlessly: "*checks* It expired last year. That would explain it. *takes another bite*"

Hotch: "???"

Tara: "I think I'm telepathic."

Matt: "Why do you say that?"

Tara: "Someone was tailgating me on my way here today, and I was like 'sir I will fuck you up' in my mind, and he stopped immediately."

Luke: "Woah, maybe you are telepathic."

Tara: " That or he saw me flip him off."

Matt, facepalming: "I- nope. Never mind."

Morgan: "Well?"

Rossi: "The dog was cute, but the video was weird."

Morgan: "Your face is weird!"

JJ: "Wow, did my son teach you that burn?"

*Emily glaring at JJ*

JJ: "Why are you looking at me like that? You've been doing it all day."

Emily: "I had a dream that you had sex with Morgan last night!"

JJ: "And you're mad at ME? I should be mad at YOU for conjuring that in your subconscious!"

Morgan, playing with the kids: "Touch your nose! Now touch your ears! Now touch your hair!"

Jack: "You don't have any hair."

Morgan: "Hotch... come get your son right now."

Emily: "I don't like that guy."

Luke: "What'd he do?"

Emily: "He gave himself the nickname 'possum', and while that's not outrightly bad, it's highly questionable."

*Reid comes in with a broken bone*

Morgan: "This wouldn't have happened if you'd had more milk as a kid."

Reid: "Morgan, I was allergic."

Morgan: "Dairy allergies are fake. Just produce lactase. It's not that hard."

Reid: "I am both impressed that you know what lactase is and offended that you think I would choose to not eat cheese."

[dannybobany]

Basil headcanon

When Basil likes people he drops bags of fresh vegetables at their doorstep, but because he’s full to the brim with anxiety he doesn’t knock on the door or even leave a note. Just. Mysteriously leaves vegetables at peoples houses

Because of this faraway residents have begun joking about “the produce fairy”, nobody knows who it is or why this happens, it’s just that for seemingly no reason at random times a bag of vegetables appears at some peoples doors, and for whatever reason it happens to some houses way more often then others

Basil did not mean for this to happen but once the rumor got going he was too scared to say anything so he just lets people think there’s some mystical entity giving them veggies

The only people who are aware “the produce fairy” is Basil are Daphne and Bowen, Polly, and Charlene’s Mom

The Twins know because they actively caught him leaving a bag of tomato’s at their house, Polly figured it out on her own, and Charlene’s mom knows because she’s the only other person in town with a vegetable garden and she runs into him in the garden section of fix-it a lot, the first time a bag of vegetables appeared at her door she immediately was like “oh that nice boy has gifted me some strawberries, how sweet”

This Headcanon is intended to be comedic but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe it with my whole heart

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Five large, enclosed bao piled on a plate. The topmost bao has been opened to show a bread-like dough texture and a vegetable filling. The bao are garnished with chopped chives. End ID]

Bánh bao chay (Vietnamese vegetable dumplings)

Bánh bao are an iteration on the Chinese da bao (大包) brought to Vietnam by Cantonese immigrants. Like da bao, bánh bao are commonly filled with some combination of minced meat, Chinese sausage, and hard-boiled eggs; however, some versions of bánh bao are also made with Vietnamese vegetables, herbs, and flavorings. Vegetarian bánh bao (bánh bao chay) may have no filling, a filling consisting of a variety of vegetables, or a filling of sweetened beans or sweet potato.

This recipe combines Vietnamese vegetables, herbs, spices, and sauces with Vietnamese meat substitutes to make a well-rounded filling that's equal parts umami and fresh. The yeasted, enriched dough is tasty, fluffy, and light, but still has enough structure to hold up against the filling.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Tip jar

Makes 16-20; serves 6.

Ingredients:

For the dough:

4 cups + 2 Tbsp (500g) all-purpose flour

2 tsp (7g) active dry yeast

7 Tbsp (90g) granulated sugar

1/2 tsp salt

2 tsp (10g) baking powder (optional)

2 Tbsp (16g) cornstarch (optional)

1 - 1 1/4 cup (135-295 mL) lukewarm soy or oat milk, or water

1 Tbsp cooking oil

The basic components of this dough are flour, yeast, sugar, salt, oil, and milk. The baking powder is added to help with leavening; the cornstarch works to create a light, fluffy dough that will not become soggy when filling is added.

For the filling:

1 large carrot (100g)

4-inch piece (120g) cassava root / yuca

1 cup (100g) shiitake or wood-ear mushrooms, diced

4 large pieces (50g) sườn non chay, or 1/2 cup diced or crumbled chả lụa chay

1/2 cup water + 1/2 tsp vegetarian 'chicken' broth concentrate (optional)

50g tofu skin (đậu hủ ky)

1 red onion, minced

5 cloves garlic, chopped

4-5 chives or scallions, finely chopped

1 tsp freshly ground black pepper

1/2 tsp sugar, or to taste

1/2 tsp salt, or to taste

2 tsp bột nêm chay, ground to a powder (optional)

1 1/2 tsp fermented bean paste + 1/2 tsp light soy sauce (or 2 tsp vegetarian fish sauce)

2 tsp vegetarian oyster sauce

1/4 cup soybean oil, peanut oil, or other cooking oil, divided

Sườn non chay (roughly, “vegetarian ribs”) is a meat replacement made of textured soy protein. It may be found in bags online or in the pantry / dried goods section at your local Asian grocery store—the bags will be labelled “sườn non chay” as well as “vegan meat slice,” “textured soy bean protein,” “vegetarian food,” or “vegan food.” Most sườn non chay are large and pale in color, but they sometimes come in "beef" or "pork" styles—the difference is not the flavoring but rather the size, shape, and coloring of the pieces. In my experience, the "beef" ones are more darkly colored, and both "beef" and "pork" styles are smaller in size and thinner in shape than the non-specific ones, which I often use to replace chicken.

Chả lụa chay is a vegetarian version of a Vietnamese pork sausage. It can be found in the form of a large loaf in the refrigerator section of a Vietnamese or Asian grocery store. It will be labelled "chả lụa chay" or "gio lụa chay," as well as "vegetarian pork roll," "wheat meat," or "vegetarian food."

Đậu hủ ky, or tofu skin, is prepared by taking the film off of a batch of tofu as it sets. Tofu skin may be purchased fresh or dried, in sheets or in sticks: for the purposes of this recipe, any kind will work! Chinese tofu skin produced for sale abroad may be labelled "dried beancurd sticks."

Bột nêm is a Vietnamese seasoning sold in powder or granule form. Vegetarian ("chay") versions of the seasoning may contain shiitake mushroom, lotus seeds, carrots, tomatoes, and kohlrabi, as well as salt and MSG. It can be purchased in pouches or boxes from an Asian grocery store, or you can use any other vegetable stock powder.

Fish sauce and oyster sauce are common inclusions in pork fillings for bánh bao but are often simply omitted from vegetarian ones. I've used vegetarian substitutes for these ingredients—if you don't have vegetarian imitation fish or oyster sauce, just increase the amount of salt, sugar, and bột nêm to taste.

Instructions:

For the dough:

1. Heat 1 cup (135mL) non-dairy milk to lukewarm in a saucepan or in the microwave. Stir in the yeast to dissolve. if you’re not sure your yeast is alive, proof it by allowing to stand for 10 minutes—it should foam.

2. Add the baking powder, sugar, and salt and whisk to dissolve.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together flour and cornstarch. Pour in the milk mixture and mix well to combine. Add additional milk 1 tsp at a time if it remains too dry to combine. The dough should be slightly tacky but not sticky.

3. Add oil and knead by hand until dough is smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and allow to rise in a warm place for about 3 hours until doubled in size. If you live in a cold climate and don't have a proofing drawer, heat your oven on the lowest setting for a few minutes, turn it off, and then proof the dough in the oven.

For the filling:

1. Prepare the proteins. Soak the tofu skin (if you're using dried) and sườn non chay in cool water for about half an hour until rehydrated (or simmer them for a shorter amount of time). They are fully hydrated once flexible and a couple shades lighter. Gently squeeze the water out. Dice tofu skin; rip sườn non chay into small pieces lengthwise and then dice widthwise.

2. Prepare the vegetables. Peel cassava root and carrot. Cut both into a fine julienne, or grate them. Dice the mushrooms; mince the red onion; chop the garlic.

3. Cook the filling. Heat oil in a large skillet on medium. Add the garlic and sauté until fragrant.

4. Add the red onion and continue to sauté until fragrant and slightly softened. Add black pepper, bột nêm, and salt and allow to cook another 30 seconds.

5. Add carrot, cassava, mushrooms, chả lụa chay (if using), and tofu skin and stir to combine. Reduce heat to low and cook, stirring often, until tender. Remove from pan.

6. If using sườn non chay: in the same pan, fry sườn non chay in 3 Tbsp of cooking oil on medium until they’ve absorbed the oil. Whisk 'chicken' stock concentrate into a small amount of hot water, then add the stock into the pan. Cook until mostly dry.

Soaking in water, deep frying in oil, then simmering in a flavored broth is the typical Vietnamese preparation of sườn non chay. The simmering in stock could potentially be skipped if you're including vegetarian oyster and/or fish sauce, but personally I find that dried soy products benefit from being soaked or simmered in something other than water.

7. Mix sườn non chay in with other filling ingredients, salt, sugar, sauces, and chives.

To assemble:

1. Turn dough out from its proofing bowl and gently divide into two even parts. Cover the half you're not using and gently roll the other out into a log of even width. Use a dough cutter or sharp knife to divide the log into 8 or 10 even pieces.

2. Place each disc of dough on its side and roll it out into a circle about 5" (13cm) in diameter. The edges of the circle should be much thinner than the center, since the edges will be bundled up and folded together.

3. The folding method is the same as for baozi and momos. Hold a wrapper in the palm of your non-dominant hand and add a couple tablespoons of filling (if you’re not experienced with making dumplings, it may be easier to add less). While pressing the filling down with your non-dominant thumb, use your other hand to pinch pleated folds in the dough all the way around the circle of the wrapper. Remove your thumb and make one last fold to close the bao. Pinch firmly at the place where all the pleats come together (where the drawstring would be if it were a drawstring pouch) and give a small twist to seal.

4. Set each finished bao on a small square of parchment paper on a baking sheet or in a steamer and lightly cover with plastic wrap or a light kitchen towel. Continue folding until you have formed all of the bao.

To steam:

1. Place a bamboo steamer in the bottom of a wok or large pot, and fill the wok with enough cool water to cover the bottom rim of the steamer by ½". If you've added baking powder to your dough, you may add a splash of vinegar to the water to help neutralise the dough's pH and combat yellowing of the dough.

If you’re using a metal steamer, tie a kitchen towel around its lid to prevent condensation from dipping back down onto the dumplings. Carefully place the bao, along with their parchment paper squares, into the steamer, leaving an inch or so between each one. They will expand as they steam!

If you don’t have a steamer, place a small bowl in the bottom of a wok or large, deep pan or pot. Place the dumplings, with their parchment paper squares, on a plate and place the plate on top of the bowl–the plate should fit inside your pot. Make sure that you can cover the plate and dumplings with a lid. If your lid is domed, there is no need for a kitchen towel, since the condensation will run down towards the outer rim. If your lid is flat, tie a tea towel around it just as you would with a metal steamer. Fill your cooking vessel with 2 or so centimeters of cool water.

2. Raise the heat to high and allow the water to come to a boil. Once boiling, lower the heat to medium-low and cover your steamer or pot. Steam the dumplings for about 8 minutes, until the dough is tender and cooked through. Keep finished bao warm in a covered casserole dish in an oven on low while you steam the others.

[elminx]

Witch Tips: 8 Ways To Advance Your Kitchen Witchery

Note here: as always, not all of these tips will work for everyone. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. Where you are in life (how old you are, your budget, and where you live) will influence which of these are available. That’s okay.

One of my biggest frustrations with Kitchen Witch spaces online is that they are (almost always) simply a list of recipes or general kitchen correspondences. Sure, these are parts of kitchen witchery, but there’s more to it than that. I’ve decided to compile a list of things you can do to up the practical side of your craft. You’ll notice that these are not magical tips, per se, but tips on how to deepen your connection to the food you eat and craft with.

Join a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) Farmshare

I’m starting with the big guns here. A CSA is a way to buy a share of a local farm. You give the farmer money ahead of the season (often in the fall, but you can sometimes sign up year-round), and then you get weekly or monthly pickups of their produce all season long. There are so many ways this supports kitchen craft: you are supporting a local farm in your community, you are guaranteeing yourself local seasonal produce, and it’s a great way to save money.

CSAs tend to be a big investment up front, but the payoff is great – pound for pound, you don’t get those prices in a store. With some CSAs, you can go directly to the farm and choose some or all of what you take home, while others give you a premade box. Some deliver or have pickup points in major cities all over the country. Some come with pick-your-own herbs, tomatoes, and flowers. This is a better choice for an adventurous eater – you will encounter things you’ve never eaten! (If you’re a pickier eater, the next tip might be more your style) Some places have CSAs that include more than just vegs, too. In my area, I could sign up for a meat share, a fruit share, an egg share, and even a flower share!

Visit Your Local Farmer’s Markets

If you like complete control over what you eat but also like the idea of supporting local agriculture, farmer’s markets are a great place to start. You will find anything from in-season fresh-picked produce to eggs, meat, local honey, and more! They are also a great place to find fruit seconds during canning season. When you buy directly from a farm, the money goes into the farmer’s pockets, and the food is often cheaper without the grocer’s markup. Plus, you may get to talk to the people who grow your food, which is a big win in my book. This option is great because it does not involve a big investment like a CSA, and you can buy only what you will use.

Grow Your Own

If the above two options aren’t available to you, or you want to try out your green thumb, why not grow your own herbs, fruit, or veggies this season? I’m not suggesting starting a whole-scale garden if that’s not something you have ever done before – start small and manageable. Pick one thing you KNOW you will eat and grow that. This takes more planning because you must consider your space and time constraints. All plants need soil, light, and nutrients, but each has different needs. Most herbs, tomatoes, and peppers can be grown in containers in smaller spaces, while other plants need a lot of room to grow. A lack of outdoor space can be remedied with a few grow lights. If you’re starting for the first time, this is a list of herbs that are very easy to grow for beginners so long as you give them enough light to thrive: basil, cilantro/coriander, garden sage, lemon balm, mint, lavender, oregano, parsley, rosemary, and thyme.

This can be a really budget-friendly option, too! Many areas have active plant groups with friendly people who are very willing to donate an old grow pot and a start to a newbie gardener. Plus, if you’re growing it yourself, you don’t need to purchase it in a store.

Can, Freeze, Dry, Dehydrate, and Save

If you end up with a CSA or grow your own, there will likely be a point in the season when you have a bounty too large to consume. When we have enough, we share or save for later. This isn’t a manual on the best ways to preserve your harvest, but you definitely can preserve it for a later date. And, I promise you, nothing is more rewarding in the dead of winter than pulling out something you preserved in the height of summer. Your preservation methods will change depending on what you have an excess of. If you want to get into water bath canning, I suggest picking up any version of the Ball Blue Book, which gives you directions on safe canning methods. If you live in a dry climate, you can dry your herbs by hanging them, but if you’re like me and live in a humid zone, a dehydrator is a safe way to avoid pesky mold issues. Many fruits and vegetables can be frozen, cut up, or whole. Do some research here – you’ll be surprised by what you find.

Use Those Scraps

If you want to be frugal and more environmentally friendly, start keeping your kitchen scraps. Bones and leftover vegetable ends can be frozen and later turned into broth. Citrus peels can candied, dried, or infused into vinegar or vodka. Apple peels can be turned into pectin for jam or jelly making. The ends of tender herbs like cilantro, basil, and parsley can be pulsed into pestos and sauces. The rinds on parmesan cheese can be saved to add to soups or sauces for some extra umami. I could go on, and I’m sure there are a million uses for kitchen scraps I’ve never heard of. If you are interested in this, there are many folk magic resources about using what you already have, and that would be a good place to start. Being frugal saves money and keeps unnecessary waste out of landfills.

Compost

Speaking of landfills, how about keeping your vegetable scraps out of them altogether? Many improvements in composting have allowed it to be done in much smaller spaces. I have a postage stamp-sized backyard, but I have two large compost bins that I rotate using yearly so that one is always curing while the other is being filled up with new produce. Plus, I have natural fertilizer for my garden that came from my kitchen! If you don’t have outdoor space, devices on the market now can compost your kitchen scraps in a few hours. Some seem to be rated for bones, which is pretty cool. They still seem to be pricy, but it’s an option if you can afford it.

Make Your Own

Are you into baking? Did you know you can make your own vanilla extract by putting a vanilla bean into some vodka? It’s virtually eternally reusable because you simply refill the bottle every time you use it. (Sidenote: for a deeper flavor, sub in your favorite dark liquor for the vodka here) Now, you have vanilla extract, which is also vanilla vodka. This also works for other extracts (mint, coffee, and almonds come to mind), but you should research how long to infuse them. Do you love pies? You can make and can your own pie filling while the fruit is in season. Do you love tacos? Make your own salsa. This can really level up your witching because it gives you an extra chance to infuse your magic into your food – once while you prepare the base ingredients and again when you cook them into your meal.

Pick-Your-Own

There is nothing quite like making a strawberry shortcake from start to finish. For me, that starts in the strawberry fields. Picking the berries myself guarantees the best and freshest berries! And it creates a great link between me and the plant where it was growing. In my area, I can pick herbs, flowers, salad, tomatoes, and beans at my local farm share, but depending on the season, I can also find you-pick strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and apples. I try to take advantage of every one. This weekend, I’ll be staying near a you-pick lavender farm and will definitely be visiting there, too! Since you do the work to pick your own, the produce prices tend to be lower, too. This is a great way to get outdoors and connect with what you are cooking with where it is growing.

Wild Harvesting

This comes with several caveats: You ABSOLUTELY need to do your own research and be 100% sure of your plant identification before you eat anything you harvest from the wild. A mistake can literally kill you! If you have known food allergies, this is not the tip for you—trying any food you haven’t had before is a risk of an allergic reaction, so don’t risk it. Additionally, some wild foods are protected or endangered. Know before you harvest. Take only what you’ll use and leave some for the animals. Practice safe wild harvesting, too – avoid taking from places near major roads, cemeteries, or known hazardous waste dumping grounds for your own safety. On the other hand – harvest invasives to your heart’s content!

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

There are, of course, a million ways to kitchen witch and this is simply some of the ways that I like to connect more deeply with my food in all stages of its journey. How do YOU kitchen witch? I'd love to hear more about it - feel free to send me asks telling me what you like to do.

Do you like my work? You can tip me over on Kofi, commission me to write an astrological report for you, or signs up to be a monthly supporter of my writing.

[project-sekai-facts]

do u know anything cool about the side characters i feel like they need more appreciation and more people to know about them.

my time has come (<- i really like the side characters)

because i don't own the fanbooks, and cannot find scans of them anywhere, this is all from memory or stuff written on the wiki or tvtropes. also characters who debuted physically in the last year (e.g Asahi, Mafuyu's mother, Arisa) won't have fanbook profiles yet, so i can only tell you what's mentioned in the story

so yeah some random trivia (a lot about favorite foods because all the side characters have that listed)

Leo/need

Iori and Mio are both 19 years old (currently)

Iori's favorite food is choco-banana crepes and she dislikes spicy food

Mio likes super spicy tantanmen ramen but dislikes fresh cream. She also collects teddy bears

neither Iori or Mio were ever given family names. This might mean that the names used in the story are stage names.

Youta is the same age as Leo/need (16). His younger sister Hanano is 14.

Saku is currently 16, the same age as the Leo/need members, and her family name is Kousaka

She's the singer and composer of her band, Anenome. They debuted professionally a few weeks prior to the Get Over It. event

When Shindou was younger, he was a bassist in a band with some school friends. He and the singer/guitarist were more skilled than the others, and were scouted for a different band. Shindou didn't want to quit because he wanted to be in a band with his friends, but the singer/guitarist quit and accepted the offer because his music would have more spread. In the end Shindou's band had to disband, and he doesn't know what happened to the guy that left.

MORE MORE JUMP!

Mai's favorite food is eclairs and she dislikes liver. She is also 15 years old currently

Yuina was the first side character to be shown with more than one outfit. Her live2D has a different outfit to the one in Minori's For "Your" Sake card

Yuina's hobby is handicraft, and she also plays basketball

Yuina's favorite food is potato croquette and she dislikes bok choy

Airi and Nanamin did a collab performance when they were both idols. They are the same age.

Nanamin has now retired as an idol and is currently a streamer with over 800 thousand subscribers. She likes fruit tarts and dislikes wasabi.

Riho is a high school first year (16) and is active as a song producer on the in-universe version of youtube

Riho's favorite food is pudding and she doesn't like hard and crumbly bread

Ayaka is 20 years old and attends college. She’s a big fan of Shizuku. She likes pork cutlets and doesn't like oysters.

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Ken likes meat dishes and dislikes umeboshi

He says he fell in love with his wife, Yuka, at first sight. They met in college and they've been married for over 20 years.

We don't know how old Yuka is but Ken is 43

Ken was a really good student and had good grades in both academics and sports. He also attended and graduated college.

Ken is very aware of An's feelings towards Kohane and is supportive of her. Go Ken-san

He was RADder's designated driver back in the day

Taiga dropped out of high school

Taiga likes whiskey but dislikes tsubuan

He is referref to as “partner” in the game data

Ken and Taiga have known each other since middle school. He thought Ken being an academic was boring and decided to get him into street music

Nagi had anemia. It's implied this is part of the reason she didn't realise she had cancer until it was too late, because she thought she felt bad because her anemia was playing up

Nagi's least favorite food was tomato, just like An. She liked coffee as well.

Arata's favorite foods are omelet rice and chocolate parfait, and his least favorite food is natto.

As pointed out by Taiga, Arata is one of the most talented performers on Vivid Street. Taiga seems to see himself in Arata, and relates to the feeling of losing a partner and can identify Arata’s weaknesses based on this

I’m not entirely sure if this is true, but based on observation Souma’s Live2D model has restricted movement. He doesn't lift his arms in any of his animations, only does small movements with them and his legs hardly move if at all. I'm assuming this is to convey that he was partially paralysed in the traffic accident

Both Souma and Arata are currently 19

Also their duo act nane was Gurney Flaps. Souma was the one who came up with that.

Souma and Arata were friends for an unknown amount of time before Rad Weekend. They may have been doing street music before the event I can't remember if this is ever mentioned.

Souma was involved in a traffic accident not long after he and Arata decided to surpass RW. He mentions that the accident was before Weekend Garage opened, and it's been open for a couple years at this point, because Ken decided to buy and open the cafe not long after the event.

Also they get a shoutout on KAITO’s costume from the Walk on and on event

Also I literally just learnt that the EN server localises Souma's name as Soma.

Even though he looks pretty old, Harumichi Aoyagi is only 53

Inferred based on his house, but he’s really rich as well. I think the Aoyagis might live in a penthouse, if you look at the window of their living room you can see the tops of trees.

Kotaro is called “cord nukio” in the game data, referring to him disconnecting the sound system during Vivids’ debut

He has a younger brother, and the reason he got into singing is because he wanted to be a cool big brother. He saw RW around the time his brother was born and the rest is history

Kotaro is 17, and presumably a high school second year (since first year side characters are 16). I’m guessing her doesn’t attend kamikou otherwise that probably would’ve been mentioned by now

His favorite food is strawberries. Ironically, he doesn’t like strawberry-flavored things.

Tatsuya is 22, making him the oldest NPC who isn’t a parent or mentor

He got into singing after being inspired by a senior in high school

WonderlandsxShowtime

Kigurumi-san is a rabbit. Please tell me how that is a rabbit costume.

According to Rui in Full Power! Wonder Halloween!, Kigurumi-san's hiding spot is a bush near the wonder stage. It is heavily implied that he is Emu's bodyguard.

Usa-chan (the bunny plushie) is the only NPC to have ever appeared in an area conversation

Usa-chan's name was picked by Saki. Tsukasa wanted to give her a weird name, but we don't know what this was.

Sakurako has been a fan of PXL since she was a kid, and getting to perform there has always been a dream of hers. Also she’s 17 (the same age as Rui and Tsukasa)

Sakurako is called “diva” in the game data

Her favorite food is roll cake and she dislikes konjac.

The Little Mermaid was Yuuka Kazamatsuri’s first ever leading role. She’s 31 now, so she was 21 at the time.

Yuuka's favorite food is deepfried horse mackerel. Her least favorite food is fish and chips, because she thought it would be horse mackerel. It was not.

Rakunosuke (Emu's grandpa)'s favorite food was taiyaki, the same as Emu. He disliked surströmming.

Rakunosuke died when he was 99 years old. Considering that Emu’s father is currently 55, that means he didn’t have kids until he was in his 40s (unless Emu has older aunts/uncles that aren’t mentioned).

Kounosuke's favorite food is candy apples and he doesn't like sugary candies

Keisuke and Shousuke are referred to as Little Keisuke and Little Shousuke in flashbacks to Emu’s childhood, even if they are probably university-aged in these flashbacks. I just think this is funny

Keisuke is 30. He likes dried horse mackerel and dislikes chocolate.

Emu mentions that one time when her family went on a beach holiday Keisuke took an encyclopedia about sea life with him. Maybe he has an interest in that?

Shousuke is 3 years younger than Keisuke. He likes corndogs and dislikes green peppers.

Hinata is 20 and is currently in college. Her favorite food is peaches. Like Emu, she doesn't have a least favorite food.

If it wasn't obvious at this point the Otoris all like theme park food. Except for Keisuke.

Jean Riley is the in-universe equivalent to Walt Disney. He's also still alive and only 54 years old.

25-ji, Nightcord de.

Mrs Asahina doesn’t appear physically until someone other than Mafuyu interacts with her (that being Kanade at the end of Immiscible Discord)

Also she frequently employs actual manipulation techniques - she is in complete control of her meeting with Kanade, she rarely disagrees with anyone and instead gives them suggestions (i.e “but wouldn’t X be better for you?” over “no i think you should do X”), and playing victim. Wonder how she learnt those.

Honestly we really don’t know that much about her

Mafuyu’s dad doesn’t show up that much but he can be seen in some family photos in the Asahina living room

Shin’ei Shinonome’s hobby is camping with his family

He has the same liked and disliked food as his children

Also he’s 48 years old

None of the photos in the Shinonome living room actually look like the family so god knows what Mrs Shinonome looks like

Mrs Shinonome puts carrots in the dinners she cooks to encourage her kids to try the things they don’t like

Futaba is 17 years old. Her favorite food is pancakes from a local shop, and she doesn’t like salty food

Mizuki’s sister studies fashion abroad. She gifted Mizuki one of her mannequins before she left, which can be seen in Mizuki’s room

Kanade’s mother died when she was 30 years old. Her favorite food was deepfried tofu, and she didn’t like goya.

Kanade’s mother liked gardening. She was fond of carnations and used to keep them around the house, which is why Kanade has a strong attachment to those flowers.

Kanade's dad is currently 46. We don't know how old Kanade was when her mother died but it still works out that he's a few years older than his wife.

Bonus: As the self-proclaimed #1 slash only Asahi fan here's my obligatory Asahi loredump

Sakurako and Asahi are friends, though they have never interacted on-screen

Asahi's not-Disneyland theme park actor career somehow managed to spin-off into him appearing in TV and film roles. It's also mentioned that he's worked at ArcLand for a long time

Asahi is a huge fan of WxS, and is very familiar with their work before he meets them. It's implied he became a fan through the show they perform in Wonder Magical Showtime!. His favorite character in that show was Tsukasa's character, Miles. Like, he really likes that character.

It’s implied that he likes Tsukasa. I have made two posts about this. I think this is a lot funnier than it actually is.

We don't have a confirmed age for him yet, but considering that he's friends with Sakurako and the way he interacts with Rui and Tsukasa, he's probably around the same age as those three (17). How young was he when he started working at ArcLand in that case?

Assuming he’s high school-aged, I think he straight up dropped out of school (high school is not compulsory in Japan). When he recruits Rui he says that since he’s good, they can get him up to a full-time job before the age of 18, and Rui realises this would require him to pull out of school. The way Asahi talks about this seems to imply that he already did this.

He keeps a notebook in his pocket when he practises. He notes down useful things about the performances he does and also notes about the people he performs with. He also people-watches because it helps him make characters act more like real people.

He's a huge fan of the director Tom Grey, one of Rui's major influences, and claims to have watched all of his works 100 times. Grey is the person who inspired Asahi to become an actor. The shared interest is a large part of why Asahi invites Rui to be the ArcLand director

Asahi grew up abroad because of his parents' work, but the country he lived in ended up getting involved in a war. The area he lived in was attacked and his family had to evacuate, but he got separated from his parents when they were running away. He didn't speak the country's language very well since he was very young, and couldn't communicate with the people at the evacuation centre to locate his family. Tom Grey happened to be volunteering there, since he lived in the neighbouring country, and met Asahi and helped cheer him up and find his parents.

He’ll be back. That'll be a fun event.

[breelandwalker]

hi, i'm currently potted plant witching as well (just planted my first crop of veggie/herb/flower seeds & got some more containers & soil today for more planting this weekend) and i would love to know more about your garden this year; would you be willing to outline your plans? any special herbs or projects? Thanks!! <3 love your blog!

🌿🌿🌿 HYPERFIXATION ACTIVATED. 🌿🌿🌿

OH I HAVE SO MANY PLANS, LET ME TELL YOU.

This is the first year that Ragnar and I are doing actual work and sweat equity with the yard at our new place. Last year things were just too chaotic and we didn't have the time or the energy to do much of anything. We trimmed occasionally and I harvest some wild plants, but that was about it.

This year, it's Go Time.

Last weekend, I finally busted out the gorgeous barrel pots we got for Christmas and spent my April market earnings on potting soil, garden tools, and seedlings. When we lived in the apartment, I had a pretty hefty window garden with herbs and flowers and a few vegetables, so I'm eager to recreate that in an outdoor space where the plants can really thrive. (I mean, I grew cherry tomatoes and three kinds of peppers in 10" pots indoors and they got pretty big, so I can only imagine being outdoors will go even better with fresh air and rain and pollinators.)

The potted garden has Napoli tomatoes, poblano and cayenne peppers, green sage, and rosemary, along with something I've never tried growing before - blueberries! I'm planning to add additional pots and more herbs later on, but I felt like this was a really good start. If I can manage it, I want to grow a huge planter of nothing but spinach and sweet basil so I can make pesto this summer.

We've also started clearing and tilling a space out in the yard proper for a raised-bed garden. Nothing too big or ambitious, just something we can try some larger veggies in. We're hoping to try the Three Sisters model with hybrid corn, snap peas, green beans, and kabocha pumpkins. I was also hoping to put in napa cabbage, but there are quite a lot of slugs in the yard when it rains, so perhaps not. I'm toying with the idea of planting some late crops for fall and winter harvests as well. I have sugarplum visions of strings of peppers and braids of garlic hanging in our kitchen with many jars of preserves and sauce in the pantry.

We might also try some other fruits if things go well, maybe raspberries or grapes, but that's more of a Next Summer project. The fence and the ground around it needs some work first and we don't want to overdo things the first year. (I'd really love to put in a little serviceberry tree, but that might be pushing things a bit with regard to space.)

There's also a side garden that's in need of some TLC where I'm vaguely tossing around the idea of climbing flower vines (clematis or morning glory or trumpet flower maybe? something local) and maybe some ground cover in the form of periwinkle. There's also a downspout that really needs a rain barrel, so that's next on the list.

There are sections of the yard that we've deliberately left wild as well, hoping to encourage native plants and pollinators. The clover patches are massive and produce lots of four-leafers and blossoms, so the bees are having a field day. There's also wild dogbane sprouting up now that the vetchweed is cleared and wild plantain (aka white man's foot) starting to come in along the walkway. If I have my druthers, I'll be planting more wildflowers this summer.

Have some pictures and tell me about your garden!

[luckyroll3]

Chef's Kiss: Part 2

Masterlist and Summary

The Farmers’ Market

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turns towards the stand before you can respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passionfruit,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds intense." Your heart twitches with empathy.

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

"How long have you been here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chris, you don’t have to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wine Pairing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile. "My thoughts exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nat..." You shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll text it to you tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading.

[justforbooks]

This is a book for readers of second world war history who like the Boy’s Own version of the conflict. The cast of characters could have stepped straight from a comic strip story. Yet the men of the SAS were real flesh and blood, “rogue heroes” as the title suggests. The organisation now famous for its derring-do, and as famously secretive, has opened its archive to the historian and journalist Ben Macintyre, so that he can produce the first authorised history of what the SAS did in the war.

Macintyre has made the most of the opportunity. The history needs scarcely any embellishment, though he tells it with flair: the simple facts of SAS activity make the “ripping yarns” of comic book heroes pale by comparison. The organisation was the brainchild of two officers posted to the war in Egypt, David Stirling and John “Jock” Lewes. Stirling was an awkward soldier, hostile to spit-and-polish and authority, charming, fun-loving and irreverent (“layer upon layer of fossilised shit” was how he described military bureaucracy). Bored by life in Cairo, he discussed with the ascetic, hard-working, serious-minded Lewes, his complete opposite in personality, the possibility of creating a unit of awkward men like himself, who wanted action, few rules and adventure in small hit-and-run assaults behind enemy lines. Astonishingly, Stirling persuaded the high command in Cairo that he could achieve something significant at low cost in men and materials. The chief of British deception in the desert war, Dudley Clarke, gave the unit its name. Already fooling the Italians with a bogus parachute unit, the First Special Air Service Brigade, he lent the name to Stirling, and the organisation has borne it ever since.

Macintyre uses the SAS war diary as the backbone of his narrative, and is candid about failure as well as the hard-earned successes. The SAS was an irregular unit, its members drawn from an extraordinary range of backgrounds – a spectacles salesman, a textile merchant, a tomato farmer, amateur boxer, and so on – with a range of motives to match. Some wanted excitement, some liked killing and made no pretence about it, some were escaping from their past, some were too eccentric for the ranks; all had to be fit, alert, crafty, ruthless if required and dedicated to the mission. Stirling was also aware that his outfit did not meet with approval in conventional military circles, which saw war as face-to-face, not behind the back. Churchill liked the force, and would no doubt have joined it had it existed in his youth. But through the campaign in North Africa, then Italy and Germany, the SAS had always to prove itself, in order to stave off disbandment.

The new unit nevertheless made a disastrous start and indeed had mixed fortunes throughout the war. The first operation, code-named “Squatter”, carried out while the handful of volunteers were still feeling their way, could not have gone more wrong. Poorly trained as paratroopers, the group nevertheless flew off into a desert storm trying to land at pre-planned dropping zones well to the rear of the enemy. They landed in the worst places, faced a Saharan downpour of biblical proportions, lost some of the troop to injury as they hit the ground, and were then unable to retrieve the parachuted supplies. With explosives so soaked they were worthless, uncertain about their whereabouts, short of food and water, the remnants of the original units made their way back to Egypt. Out of 55 men, 34 were killed, injured, captured or missing without a single achievement.

Macintyre makes the point that this was by no means the end of a madcap idea. Stirling recruited the Long Range Desert Group to take the SAS teams by Jeep or truck rather than risk any further parachute drops, and the second set of raids in December 1941 resulted in the destruction or disabling of 60 enemy aircraft. But Operation Bigamy, a series of raids against Benghazi shortly before the battle of El Alamein, was another disaster. It featured one of the most bizarre figures to emerge from the story: a Belgian textile merchant, Robert Melot. Fluent in Arabic, keen to get at the Germans, he volunteered for the SAS aged 47 as an intelligence officer. He used his range of Libyan contacts to glean information needed for the raids, but in this case Melot miscalculated. An Arab double agent alerted the Germans and Italians and the raids were a disaster. Once again a forlorn, bearded, hungry and damaged band straggled back to Cairo. Melot carried on his SAS career regardless, and died not from his many scrapes in battle, but from a Jeep accident on his way to a party in Brussels late in 1944.

The SAS came of age in the campaign in Italy, where it was used as a more conventional raiding party, the Special Raiding Service, under the command of Paddy Mayne following Stirling’s capture in Tunisia in late 1942. The Italian campaign was a particularly grisly one, and the SRS (with its core of SAS men) found collaboration with the partisans and rivalry with the Special Operations Executive (SOE) a challenge (unlike the SAS, the SOE always linked up with local resistance). Macintyre spares none of the details; the SAS fought a dirty war against an enemy they regarded as every bit as dirty. Prisoners were rare, but in return Hitler condemned irregular commando units to death if they were caught. Not all were killed by any means, but many were, just as the Germans killed all the other irregular, partisan forces ranged against them.

In October 1945 the army wound up the SAS and it continued to exist by subterfuge, a unit of war crimes investigators searching for evidence across Europe that SAS members had been murdered. In 1947, to meet the many crises of empire, the SAS was revived. What it did then and since can be guessed at, but until the postwar unit diaries are revealed, like the wartime diary used by Macintyre, the exact details will not be known.

What in the end did the SAS achieve in the war? Macintyre does not really say, leaving the narrative to speak for itself. It did not, as some of the book’s publicity has suggested, turn the tide of war. Its overall accomplishment, set beside those of the Commandos, or the SOE, the Chindits or other partisan groups, was strategically modest, whatever its tactical successes. But the SAS did bring to life the plucky, maverick, individualist hero of the comic strip, a very British way of making war. SAS: Rogue Heroes is a great read of wartime adventuring, in a long, grim war of attrition where adventure was hard to find.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[raid3r-r4bbit]

I cant tag you for some reason @acesatyr but I have typed all this up. I will get to fishing and foraging at some point, But this was already really long, lol.

I had originally written this in another word doc and realized I had typed over six paragraphs about seeds and germination alone. I really like farming.

Overall, this is mostly the generic info; I can detail or explain anything in depth, but I’m summarizing the important stuff, and the details are easily researchable. :)

A Revised and Bullet-Pointed Essay about Organic Apocalyptic Farming

Seeds, the basics:

-Stock up on seeds, they come in packets and are usually cheap depending on where you get them from. I like to store seeds in a mason jar, with a tightly sealed lid. It’s important they’re dry, and if possible, refrigerated. if not, any cold, dark, dry place will do.

-Germination is an easy process, DAMP (not sopping wet. DAMP) peice of thin cloth or paper towel, seeds laid out evenly, and put into either a ziplock baggie or something like a pyrex container. Again, air tight, low-mid light, warm (not hot, not direct sunlight) enviroment.

-if you see a lil mold it’s okay, as long as the root sprouts they’re still viable.

Plants I would Reccomend:

-Peppers are great because they grow quickly, can be canned or stuffed and add a lot to you meals and food. They also don't really take up as much room as some of the other plants i'm about to list. They aren’t the most filling and you cant live off of them but if you want to improve your quality of life or make a lot of money at the end of the world I guarantee you anyone who can actually cook or has the spices and foods to do it is set for life. I would legitimately kill a man for my mom’s pepperoni stuffed pickled peppers. I stabbed my brother over a jar once I am not kidding.

-Pretty much any kind of spice or herb really, I would HIGHLY recommend growing lavender, mint, thyme, and anything lemony or citrus scented, as I mentioned on a previous post, they’re good for pest control. lavender is a very temperamental plant, but most herbs, once ou get them going can be pretty hardy for lil leafs. Also, depending on the amount you’re growing of each most of them don’t take up too much space. Also basil cause it smells nice and I told you to.

-Corn, wheat, and any kind of grain is obviously a good idea if you want bread, but all of them are pretty difficult and require a lot of space. Potatoes are great because they can be used to make bread and alcohol as well.

-Zucchini, eggplants, tomatoes, and summer squash, and pretty much any gourd/melon/squash plant are easy to grow, but keep in mind many of these are expanding and/or vine plants and require a lot of space. They make a lot of food, but tomatoes and cucumbers in particular will actively choke other plants. Like vines wrapping around and leaves growing over top and roots entangling level of choking. Keep apart. but they’re good for you. eggplant, tomato and cucumeber are the highlight here.

-For leafy greens kale and chard are super easy to grow and grow pretty fast. Like any leafy green, too much sunlight will scorch them so be careful. I like to grow chard in an old (was some kinda biohazard barrel my dad stole from some pharmaceutical company, and cleaned out) cause it’s more than deep enough for the roots, but also wide enough to grow plenty. Also kale is high in vit c so if you don't live somewhere tropical you won't die of scurvy :)

-If you plan on raising animals or having a crop FIELD and not a PLOT, then grow long grass into hay, because it is good feed, but can also be used to cover ground to protect from birds. If you sow seeds by yeeting them into the dirt, birds will eat them if you don't cover them and you will die hungry.

-If possible, Alfalfa is also good for animals ( in small quantities) because they like it, or sunflowers. you can eat sunflowers, they produce a lot of seeds adn the seeds can be used as feed. ( same with corn.)

-Mushrooms. can be dried, easy to grow, grow really fast, and can be used as filler for meat dishes. (you can also grow the drug kind because it’s the end of the world and no one is going to stop you)

-tobacco for tabacco

AMNIMALS:

-unless you have a lot of very protected land you’re going to want animals that are small and potentially multipurpose.

-chickens are great because they dont need an exorbitant amount of space, can be used for eggs and meat, their feathers can be used for a number of things, if you dont like eating chicken guts (whats wrong with you) then they can be used as fertilizer, bait or as part of stock, and the bones can also be used for broth or to make small simple tools like needles or pen nibs. However, they actually need a more varied diet then you’d think. if you dont have calcium powder, their own unfertilized crushed up eggs, or scrambled with the shell is good for them once in a while, or chopped up leaves from your plants. Otherwise, a mix of corn and seeds is pretty good. DO NOT feed chickens wheat, oats or bread. Once in a while maybe, as like a super special treat, but too much can be harmful. Also, they eat bugs so they can just be outside if you’re okay with that.

-Goats produce milk, fur/wool (not all breeds do both, most don't do both, actually) and they’re more portable than cows. they also take up less space. A big downside is that goats are not only social animals, but they also need a good bit of stimulation and activity and they can be pretty noisy. My uncle built a jungle gym pyramid for his goats, but be warned, Joe Bob chewed his way out of the barn and needed rescuing from the top of the tower in the middle of a hurricane once. Goats will pretty much eat anything, and their poop is good for compost, Joe Bob and his siblings pretty much live off scraps and they’re happy lil dudes ( ladies actually, Joe Bob is the only boy)

-Rabbits! (the rabbit in raider rabbit is actually because i used to raise rabbits and am fond of them as a farm animal and because nobody can pronouce my name so they just call me Bun but we dont talk about that) probably one of the quietest animals you can keep on a farm, they can be kept in cages, breed quickly, can be used for fur, leather (rabbit and goat leather is great for making paper and cloth, not really good for protective leather) meat, and bones. The biggest issue I can see in the event of a wasteland survival situation is rabbits need a lot of clean water, salt and if you get angouras they pretty much need constant brushing. Be warned, if you dont know how to properly care for and breed them the females will castrate the males or eat her babies :) it is just a traumatizing as it sounds :) I speak from experience :) A good and cheap meat rabbit is the california white rabbit, they're about small to med size, and really simple to look after. Angouras are not great for meat, but their fur makes amazing wool. They eat veggies ( not carrots, too much sugar) oats, hay, their babies, and other leafy greens.

-Quail are something im not super familiar with that was my sibling’s thing, but from what i understand they need less space then chickens, and they’re good meat birds. eggs can be good for feeding other animals, but they’re not really good for much else. Also they’re really fucking loud and will fight each other so maybe not?

-Ducks are a lot like chickens, again, all of them can be eaten or used, and also eggs. eat more leafy greens and stuff and really like having somewhere to swim, better for more open environments. Ducks like to eat a lot and will get really fat really quick ( not a good thing) so be careful. however, if they imprint on you, they will follow you everywhere which makes rounding them up easy.

-Fish are great because their water can be cycled and the yuck water can go to the plants, which is great cause all that fish poop and algae is really good fertilizer. Fish are good for you and I love them. An while they’re not easy to port around, if you feed them micro worms or lil shrimps you can grow their food mostly indefinity and freeze it even. Also ive never heard any fish ( other than that one pufferfish) make noise. keep in mind, you will still have to maintain the water levels and the ph and all that, and they can take up a lot of space.

WHAT METHOD? HOW DO THE FARM? OTHER?

-this is pretty much up to you, I’m a really big fan of hydroponics, but i typically stick to “recycle farming” which is basically using whatever I have on hand and getting creative.

-if you’re going to use a plot of land, its a good idea to make sure you have a fence that goes around, over and under. Pests like groundhogs, rabbits, deer, ghouls, and myself will do more then just walk up and take you plants and animals.

-I recommend quiet animals that can be stored in cages and indoors to avoid larger predators, but any animals will attract them. Bears will break into pens, so if possible either store them INSIDE INSIDE, (like concrete building) or outside in a pen so you dont die.

-Living in the wasteland, or growing up with parents that think it basically is will teach you to utilize anything and everything. bottles and cans are great pots, old trashcans can be used if your dad wont steal chemical barrels from your local pharm plant for you, tires can be shredded into mulch, old rebar is my favorite thing for climbing plants ( sturdy, easy to stick into the ground and remove, pretty source able) Animal parts can be used for fishing bait or fertilizer, corn husks and other dry leaf litter can make good ground cover is hay isn't an option, ect.

-Plastic sheets and table cloths with holes cut in them for the plants are great for vine plants to grow through.

-scarecrows ain’t shit. Most birds are too stupid to notice and the ones that will are smart enough to figure out it’s not real pretty quick so all you’re doing is wasting good clothes and materials and scaring the shit out of yourself when you forget and look out the window and see a giant man in your field. Get a cat.

-it’s the apocalypse. grow weed.

How source plant food?

-poop and leafy plant scraps. animal poop, your own poop, your neighbors poop, poop. plant scraps, leafy greens, peels, rotten material.

-Get a big plastic tub or my favorite stolen barrels and shovel in some dead soil, layer in some plant scrap, dry leaf litter or corn husks, poop, leaf litter, and add creepy crawlies if you can. give a stir or shake every so often.

-avoid flies. as gross as it is, it’s a good idea to keep it warm, moist and humid, so very closed to avoid them.

-you can also add egg shells to give some calcium to your bug buddies.

-corpses.

What do I keep? how do I use it? (animals)

-egg shells are useful for a number of things, dried and nicely crushed they can be used for calcium for other animals. Or protection spells.

-bones for the same thing just don't feed the animals to themselves. I joked about this with the rabbits a bit ( a little cannibalism with them is inevitable and wont hurt them, but still) but cannibalism can lead to a lot of really bad neurological conditions that can harm you as well if you consume their products. Same with chickens, you feeding them scrambled eggs and shells once in a while is good for them, but if they start consistently eating their eggs you need to seperate them for a bit.

-fur and skin are great, esp for tanning, hides can make all kinds of things from paper, to water pouches and other bags, and fabric in general. being able to make cloth and leather is something a lot of people really overlook.

-Bones but for tools. Having a good needle and thread is really underestimated.

-Intestines can be used to make sausage, and other things.

-i will eat the chicken liver if you don't want it but it’s your anemia.

-make jerky/salted meat. both wont last forever, but you dont need to freeze it if you dont have power and will last longer then raw or cooked meat. salt cured meat lasts about 2-3 weeks, so if you’re solo or a small group and you did what i said and got small animals you wont be wasting food, and you dont have to butcher something every day.

-jerky can last a lil longer if stored properly, say it with me now! *air tight containers* you might get a solid month or so out of jerky, and it can mostly be rehydrated, or eaten as is.

-rendered animal fat or tallow makes good cooking oil, and while a little time consuming is not super difficult.

-make butter and cheese, not for survival, but quality of life.

Help I grew to many plants!

-can them, dumbass.

-fr though, canned foods can last a decent amount of time and can be really useful if you live somewhere with a winter, or can farm constantly. I mentioned already, but canned stuffed peppers are a favorite of mine, along with pickled eggs, which I make pretty regularly because a world without pickled eggs is the darkest thing i can imagine.

-feed them to your animals or back to your plants.

-throw them at your friends. (you haven't lived until you’ve hocked a rotten pumpkin at your little brother)

-dry them, fruit leather and veggie chips can be rehydrated and stored even longer than certain canned or preserved foods.

What else?

-learn how to purify water. there’s a million non tech versions, but in a sinch, the boil method is good if you just need to water plants. just dont pour boiling water on your crop.

-do use boiling water for weeds though. you can also feed weeds to your animals, but boiling water is just water, it’s not going to kill the soil or poison you.

-learn to fish and forage, theres a whole lot of things that aren't easy to grow or raise that can be tasty and good for you.

-learn to make fire. be prepared to put out fire. Dry crops will burn for days, so keep them watered, but you need to be able to burn exccess compost and cook.

-farming smells so bad. I love farming but animal poop, rotten veggies, innards, decay and compost, burning compost smells. if you cant stomach it and want the easy way out, thats called starvation or you better be beefy and prepped enough to raid others. or both, gorw your shit and steal from others, i dont care.

-forgot to mention earlier, but fermented foods like kimchi, kombucham etc are really good for you so yea. I might also teach you how to make kombucha cause my mom made me drink it so by god ill make you drink it too. ( i actually love it and it's good for making vinegar.)

-And forgot, legumes, like beans, peanuts, letils etc are really good plant protein. just not fun to grow, (ecept for beans. beans are actually very fun to to grow.)

[startedwithaseed]

Lettuce!

The first time i encountered lettuce plants going to seed i thought they looked like little palm trees... I was really surprised at how thick and sturdy the stems become when they are left to live out their full life cycle, especially if lots of the bottom leaves are stripped to reveal this woody stem. This is one of the joys of seed saving for me, seeing plants transform (often into relatively monstrous proportions!) and getting to appreciate the plant in a totally different way.

I didn't know at the time that lettuce was comparatively easy to save seed from, with the plants being mostly self fertile with perfect flowers, so there is minimal chance of crossing. The official advice is still to leave several meters between varieties, especially in hotter climates (where insects are more active/abundant? I have no idea), but if that would stop you saving your own lettuce seed for your own use, I say ignore the advice! I had been enjoying the benefits of saved lettuce seed, with the saved Cocarde seed being the most reliable germination in my fortnightly salad sowings that I was overseeing, often out performing much newer, bought in seed. Since I found out it could be achieved without complicated isolation netting and fears of cross pollination, I'd been dying to try it for myself. Just one plant can produce up to 10 grams of seed (that's around 8000 seed!) so it is the gift that keeps on giving. I also feel that most organic lettuce varieties are open pollinated and not hybrids, another plus for ease of mind when seed saving from this crop.

There are 3 main types of lettuces cultivated in the UK-

Romaine or cos lettuces, which form tight heads with long leaves, a typical example being little gem

Head lettuces, which again form heads but can be looser, and include smoother butter head types and more frilly batavia types

Leaf lettuces, which don't form heads and are often more frilly. an example is lollo rossa

They are all within the Lactuca sativa species so could all technically cross with eachother.

Lettuce are surprisingly hardy plants and such a mainstay for UK market gardeners, selling them as whole heads, and as part of mixed salad bags -which I believe are the highest value product for growers, although I have no recollection of where I heard that so can't fact check it! It makes sense in that it is high turnover, and many successions can be grown in a season. I personally find it hard to get too over excited about lettuce, preferring the more showy fruiting crops, and things that can be cooked and preserved in a variety of exciting ways. And seeing that it is often the veg that goes the most to waste (people love to buy mixed salad bags in shops because they look so appealing, but often fail to get round to eating them before they go slimy), it's hard to see it as the most sustainable crop. However I have made a deal with myself to get over my trepidation and finally experiment with lettuce soup this season!

As the stalks elongate and these beautiful heads start forming, the plants will want some kind of support if they are standing alone as this one is, we do have some that seem to be fairing quite well supported by tomato plants either side! I think it is quite common for several plants to die off at this stage, so select more than you think you'll need. Removing lower leaves can help to reduce the risk of rotting/moldy leaves/ slug damage leading to disease.

(A beast of a slug found hanging out under the module trays)

Watch out for flower buds starting to form, when open they almost look like little dandelion flowers, and in fact there method of distribution is the same with fluffy tops forming at full maturity.

It won't be long after flowering (about 2 weeks) that those seeds are mature, however flowers appear at varying times on the same plant so there are different methods of getting as much good, mature seed off the plant as possible. A good method for wetter UK conditions would be digging up the whole plant, roots and all, bagging the roots to stop soil dropping in with the seeds, and in a well ventilated, dry area , hanging the plant upside down in a paper bag (could be a potato sack or similar, just check for holes and turn it inside out so it's clean on the inside). Do this when about 50% of the seed are mature some will continue to mature on the plant and drop into the bag, ensuring a fairly good yield. Alternatively you can always just hand harvest mature seed from the plant as and when they come, with the main stem of the lettuce generally producing the best seed. They are mature when they easily separate from the plant.

Make sure the seed is completely dry before storing in a cool, dark, dry place.

These are just my musings from observations and my experience, as an enthusiast not a professional. My recommendations for deeper dives from the experts -

The seed growers podcast focused on lettuce seed production with Frank Morton

diyseed.org has beautiful videos going into detail on the seed saving process of most vegetables you could think of

realseeds.co.uk are an open pollinated seed company that encourage and have lots of resources on saving seed