#they were the BEST microwave meals I’ve ever eaten

[platypusisnotonfire]

If I had a decent income, the very first thing I would spend my money on would be a ready to eat meal service.

[kamryn1963]

So Long, London- Chapter 8

This is probably one of my favorite chapters so far and I love how this story is coming together.

Alvin’s plan of actually talking about his feelings for once, had been quickly abandoned. Al had really wanted to, needed to, knowing it would help and Trudy would listen and tell him what he needed to hear. 

But when he had gotten downstairs, Trudy had been happier than Al had seen in a long time. She was smiling and humming to a song on the radio. She looked up when Al joined her, her smile flattering slightly when she saw him. 

“Trudy”. Al greeted internally cursing at his still hoarse voice from his earlier breakdown and vomiting. 

“Olinsky”. Trudy said back with a nod as she looked him up and down before handing him a takeout box. 

“Randall got the lasagna and it was honestly some of the best I’ve ever had. I ordered it for you to go knowing you hadn’t eaten yet”. Trudy responded as she turned to grab a plate and cutlery for him but Al couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. 

God what had he done to deserve this? Trudy went on a date and somehow thought of him and his likes and then spent her money buying him dinner. 

“I can pay you back”. Al replied once he was finally able to manage some words. 

“I don’t need your money”. Trudy responded as she grabbed the take out box back from him, dumped it onto the plate then slipped it into the microwave. Once it was heating up she turned back to face him. 

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” Trudy asked but they both knew the answer. Al didn’t answer, just moved to the fridge to grab some water. 

Al didn’t tell her that it wasn’t just dinner he skipped but every meal that day. Well he ate about half a banana but Al knew Trudy would just scoff if he tried countinting that as a meal. 

Once the food was hot, Al grabbed the bowl and his water and Trudy grabbed leftover cake she had gotten to go, and they both sat on the couch. Silence came over the room, the only sound the clang of cutlery and the faint sound of the radio in the kitchen. 

“Are you sick?” Trudy asked halfway through her cake as she looked up to see Alvin had managed a whole three bites of his meal. 

“I’m fine”. Al responded too quickly as Trudy scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

“Well you smell like vomit. So unless somebody threw up on you then I’ll ask again. Are you sick?” 

God Al hated when she couldn’t take no for an answer. Who was he kidding? That was every time he tried to tell Trudy or Hank for that matter, that he was fine. He didn’t lie every time he said that. Only sometimes. 

“I’m not sick”. Al replied, refusing to look up as he forced himself to swallow another bite of lasagna. Despite the fact he wasn’t hungry and he felt nauseous again, this was some of the best lasagna he ever had. He had to give Trudy that. 

Before Al could protest or move away, Trudy’s hand was on his forehead. He cursed his touch starved self, as Al leaned into the touch instead of away from it like he meant to. 

“You feel clammy. Not warm though”. Trudy muttered before removing her hand and leaning back still looking at Alvin intently. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” Trudy asked knowing what the answer would be but asking anyway. 

“No”. Al said back and Trudy just sighed but didn’t push. Yet. 

Al wanted to, he did. But Trudy looked so happy and Al didn’t want to ruin that and make her worry about him. Al wanted Trudy to be happy, and loved that she finally met a good man who treated her right instead of the idiots she had dated in the past that didn’t deserve her. 

Trudy instead started talking about her date knowing that Alvin often appreciated when she would talk when he clearly wasn’t feeling great or in a good state of mind. Trudy had spent enough long nights in the hospital at his bedside talking about anything and everything she could think of, to know that. 

“Randall’s lease is almost up and we were talking of moving in together soon”. Trudy really didn’t know if bringing this up right now was a good idea. She didn't really know she was until the words came out of her mouth. 

“That’s awesome”. Al replied, and his smile was actually genuine as he looked at her. Trudy’s serious look made Al freeze especially when he realized what she was getting at. She needed him out of they were going to move in together. 

“I’m not kicking you out, Al. I would never do that. But you're already looking for a place right?” Trudy asked and Al nodded. He was. 

“It’s okay, Dee. I know you're not kicking me out. I can be out in a week, maybe two”. Al responded and Trudy nodded instantly looking slightly calmer. 

“Of course”. 

Al soon excused himself. After dealing with his half eaten dinner, he headed up to his room, the spare room. Al had to stop calling it his room. 

He looked at his stuff spread around, in drawers and on hooks. Two months. That wasn’t a long time but this was the first time Al had truly felt at home in a long time. Even his old house with Meredith hadn’t felt like home in a long time. 

But Trudy’s had and Al was going to miss this. The feeling of living with his best friend, knowing he had her just down the hall if something happened or he needed her. 

Al wasn’t ready to be alone again, alone with his thoughts especially after today. 

Somehow he managed to cry more as he started packing. 

An hour later, Trudy came into the room silently. She sat next to him on the floor and wrapped an arm around as he sobbed. God he was exhausted. 

That’s how they both passed out that night. Leaning against each other on the floor a blanket Trudy had grabbed placed over them. 

Al was going to miss this, the feeling of safety. 

[duckymcdoorknob]

Umm.. hello. So, I was wondering if I could request an emergency ask? So, I have to explain basically cuz of ask character limit, but essentially I break down completely every little while and loose my emotions till they come back and launch me into my next break down. Losing my emotions is my brains why if “protecting me “ from my problems. So I was wondering if I could request head cannons for how the main hxh characters would help me during an emotional rest (what I call the break downs)?

Yes you can request!!

I hope you’re doing better now! If not, I have just the thing to make you a little happy!

This is my first time writing for HXH so I’m very very excited! Thank you for the request!

Omg after writing these they are so short holy cow. Please tell me if you need anymore help 😭

Please let me know if you need anything at all!!

I do wanna say to everyone who reads: Gon and Killua are strictly written to be platonic!! It is up to you whether or not you see their scenarios as romantic.

CW BELOW THE CUT: Emotional drainage

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑘𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

Leorio is a very busy guy, but he always knows whenever you’re experiencing your cooldown periods.

He’s always been big on quality time; simply being in your presence was enough to keep him happy.

So when your best friend had invited you over, and you turned him down, he immediately knew something was off.

That being said, Leorio made it his goal to assure you that you were loved and appreciated.

He went to the store to make you a little “care package”.

It wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it was the thought that counted.

He grabbed some of your favorite drinks, a few bags of microwave popcorn, a small stuffed animal he found on sale, and a move from the bargain bin.

Leorio then would arrive at your home to drop off the package. If you weren’t up for a guest, he left it at the door and texted you to wish you well. If you were?

Oh buddy he’s gonna give you the best visit ever.

He first checked to see how you were feeling, offering the best words he could at your reply.

After that, he popped the popcorn and turned the movie on. “I’ve never seen this one, but I feel like it’ll be an adventure for us to take on!”

When the popcorn was all eaten, he would pull you close to him and hold you in his arms. “I hope you’re feeling at all better (Y/N). Please tell me if you need anything.”

Without anymore need for words, Leorio would run his fingers through your hair, trying to relax you as much as he could.

If by the grace of the gods you fell asleep, he would place you on the couch to let you rest. Afterward, he’d begin to tidy up your living space.

He would wash dishes, sweep and mop the floor, clean off countertops. Etc.

Leorio just wants to make sure that you are as relaxed and at peace as possible during these times. He thinks that the more relaxed you are, the quicker you’re out of it.

He may not be right, but you always appreciate his help.

𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑎 𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑎

Kurapika hates how much his job interferes with his personal life.

Regardless of that though, he always tells Nostrade and his co-workers when he needs a day off.

He doesn’t do it often, but the only time he does so is when you need his help.

When you entered the breakdown, Kurapika recieved a quick text from you. It’s contents only being “it happened again.”

He immediately notified Nostrade and went home for the day. “Are you in a place for me to see you?”

If you tell him no, he anxiously awaits for you to be ready for visitors. He wants nothing more than to assure your health and well-being, so he isn’t very good at waiting.

If you tell him yes, he’s absolutely hightailing it to where you live. He doesn’t come prepared with anything but himself.

When he arrived at your home, the first thing Kurapika did was start up your stove and make you a meal. You had always sworn he was a good cook, so he made sure to abuse that fact right now.

He figured that at the very least, if he could get you to eat something, he’d succeeded in helping you. He made you your favorite dish, bringing it to you in bed.

He helped you to sit up and eat. Even if you weren’t in the mood to do so, he urged you to have as many bites to match how old you were.

After a quick meal, he laid with you in bed and held you close. “I truly hope that you can take any sort of comfort in my presence and help. I want you to feel better as soon as possible.”

Kurapika truly can’t bear to see you in such a state, so he takes it upon himself to try and make you better as soon as he can.

𝐾𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑎 𝑍𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑦𝑐𝑘

I can’t say that Killua would exactly understand, but he would absolutely try his best to help.

When you refused his offer to have a picnic with Gon, he wondered if you were upset with them.

So he did what any good friend would do: he made you some cookies.

You had told him your favorite kind of cookie ages ago, but he remembers everything important about you. Yes, he finds even your cookie preferences important.

He knocked on the door of your home, waiting for you to see him. When you answered, you looked disheveled. This instantly sprouted the boy’s concern.

Regardless of your state, you invited him inside and sat down with him.

“Is something wrong? Do I need to kill someone for you?” He was instantly checking in on you, worried so deeply about your mental state.

When you explain to him what had happened, he didn’t really intake it at first. It took him a while to understand.

When he finally registered what you were going through, he offered to hang out with you for the day. He wanted to keep your mind clear, so he mainly offered to play video games and make random treats with you.

In the end, Killua hoped that he could provide any form of relief for you during this time.

𝐺𝑜𝑛 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑐𝑠𝑠

Oh Gon. Sweet little guy.

He would not understand in the beginning,

Like at all.

When you told him that you couldn’t see him today because you weren’t feeling too well, he rushed to the pharmacy to get you some cold medicine.

He knocked vigorously on your door, face full of worry. “You told me that you weren’t feeling good so I brought you some medicine!”

You chuckled dryly and invited him inside. You explained to him that it wasn’t that kind of sick, but your mind was keeping you safe from anything that was troubling you.

Gon wouldn’t really know or understand what you told him, but he opted to keep you company.

He would sit on the couch with you, kicking his legs back and forth as he explained all of his most recent adventures as a hunter.

He would also try to cook you dinner. Emphasis on try. After failing, he’d quickly order food for the two of you. He wanted to make sure that you had something to eat over everything.

Aunt Mito always told him that the best way to help a sad friend is to make sure they’ve eaten. So Gon does just that.

He also would watch movies with you. He’s seen a whole bunch of classic movies, so he offers to watch a few of them with you. He’s more than thrilled when you express that you enjoyed one.

Gon wants to make sure that you still have a good time despite being in a cool-off state. He’ll go to kingdom come just to make sure of that.

—————♡���✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[eternally-writing]

helping hands | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: parent!au, idol!au, husband!au, one-shot

word count: 3k

warnings: none

synopsis: Parenting in general? Hard. Parenting while your husband Jungkook is away on tour? Extra hard.

special thank you to @justasparkwritings for beta reading this and @moccahobi for helping me with the title!

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

It had been 2 weeks since Jungkook had left on tour. You would think that after being in the industry for 10 years he would have a little more leniency with his schedule, but even after the birth of your little girl, Jungkook couldn’t seem to get out of a 3 week tour around Japan and Korea.

It seemed like the Earth was weeping with you today as the rain battered against your window while you made what seemed like your 15th cup of coffee for the day. Your daughter Gidae was for once not crying - and you were eternally grateful since it gave you time to change out of your puke-covered shirt and close your eyes for 5 seconds... as if that was any replacement for the lack of sleep you’ve encountered.

All your friends whose husbands were busy idols or businessmen gave you the advice that “everything falls into place over time when you’re parenting on your own”. That it just magically happened. You’re not sure what memo you missed, or if there’s some book you forgot to read, or if worst of all, you lacked some parental intuition that everyone else possessed. Jungkook had left 13 days ago, and nothing had fallen into place.

Between Gidae being up all night every night, the pile of puke covered laundry sitting in a pile in the corner of your room, the dirty dishes in the sink that had accumulated to the point that you were eating your microwave meals with plastic cutlery, you definitely felt like a failure.

And probably the worst part of it all was that Jungkook wasn’t here to help you. This wasn’t the first time Jungkook left on tour while you two have been together, but it was the first time he had left you since Gidae had been born. The first time he had left you, a first time mother, alone with your child for an extended period of time. The first time you needed help and couldn’t ask him for it.

As if on command, while you were bracing yourself on the counter in exhaustion, your phone began to ring.

Incoming call: hubby kook ♡

As you pressed “accept call”, you could immediately heard the hustle and bustle of the backstage crowd. Too tired to be the first to say hello, you waited to see how long it would take for him to realize you were on the other line.

“Hey Y/N, just checking in before the show! How are things?” cheered Jungkook.

You could imagine what Jungkook looked like as he talked to you: already dressed in his first stage outfit, a makeup artist blotting away at the nervous sweat on his forehead, him grinning ear to ear with his hyungs and bursting with excitement for performing.

On a normal day, if you had maybe actually gotten some sleep or eaten at least one meal that didn’t come out of your freezer in the past week, you probably could have mustered a convincing “good! How’s the show going?” But you were on your last straw, and it was already giving way.

“Bad Jungkook. It’s bad. I haven’t slept at all for as long as I can remember. I have no clean clothes or clean dishes, I haven’t showered since you left so I smell like a pungent mixture of puke, sweat, and god knows what else, and Gidae misses you and won’t stop crying.So yes, it’s horrible without you here.”

You knew that wasn’t what Jungkook expected to hear,the sharp intake of breath on his side serving as a telltale sign you had caught him off guard.

“Baby I-, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

You couldn’t stop your voice from cracking as you continued. Your chest was tightening, feelings bubbling over.

“It’s -“ you paused to take a breath. “It’s really hard without you Jungkook. Really really hard.”

Jungkook tried his best to piece together the words over the phone, but you could already hear the speakers in the background calling for Jungkook to head to his position for the start of the show.

“Y/N I-“

“You have to go Jungkook, I know. Bye.”

You didn’t give him a second to recuperate as you ended the call.

No parenting book ever provided you with advice on this. The loneliness, helplessness, and frustration you were feeling right now. Crumpling down to the kitchen floor, you felt like the world was collapsing around you as you sobbed.

As if on cue, Gidae’s cries joined yours from the other room.

--♡--

You woke up slouched in a rocking chair in the nursery, with your hand reaching down to touch your daughter’s in her crib. She seemed to show you some leniency by sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, but unsure of how much free time she’d give you, you figured you might as well get a head start of the day since you felt like you were miserably falling behind already.

While mixing some formula in your kitchen, you heard a knock on your front door. The only people who ever came over were the boys and a couple of your friends, and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors at 8am.

Frying pan clutched in your hand (safety first, right?), you creaked open your door to see a small woman standing in front of you.

With a cheery smile painting her face, the lady began to speak.

“Mrs. Jeon, I’m Seokjin-ssi’s nanny. I’ve been sent here today to take care of Gidae. Here’s a note from Mr. Jeon.”

You couldn’t help the smile that decorated your face after reading it. After so many years together, Jungkook still managed to surprise you. Taking in that there was now a woman in your house who was basically Supernanny here to help you, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

When Jungkook said that you were going to be pampered today, he sure meant it. By a “car” being outside, he actually meant a glorious Porsche with a driver and all your favorite snacks tucked in the backseat. He had booked an entire spa day just for you to get whatever treatments you needed without having to deal with the hustle and bustle of anyone else being around. Simply being in an environment that didn’t always sound like crying and children’s TV shows felt like heaven. A schedule had been waiting when you arrived, including a built in “nap” (multiple hours is just sleep, right?) in one of their private suits and lunch with none other than your best friend. It was the best surprise, and the girl talk you shared was exactly what you needed. Of course the mom guilt crept in, but whenever it did you reminded yourself of Jungkook’s words - you needed this, and only once you take care of yourself will you really be able to take care of your daughter.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the hydrating face mask or the 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep that you were able to get, but you walked into your house with a new pep in your step thanks to the relaxing day that Jungkook planned for you.

Welcomed by Ms. Yeong wearing an apron and bustling around your kitchen, you smelled freshly baked cookies (chocolate chip, your favorite too) and were thrilled at the sight of a clean house in front of you.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she began to speak with that signature smile.

“I’ve cooked dinner for you tonight and also have meals for the next 3 days in the fridge. The dishes are all done and your laundry should all be folded in your drawers. Gidae just had some milk and is now watching some Cocomelon.She woke up from her nap around 3 hours ago.”

In your excitement you couldn’t help giving her the biggest hug, squeezing her tightly. Slowly, Ms.Yeong began to pat your back, unclear about whether this hug was really for you or for her.

“I’m just doing my job Mrs. Jeon.”

You pulled away to look sincerely into her eyes.

“You are seriously a lifesaver Ms.Yeong, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

After patting your back again, it was her turn to be sincere.

“You’re a good mother, Mrs. Jeon. I know it may not feel like it sometimes, but you really are. Gidae is lucky to have you as a mom.”

Tears began to prick at your eyes, but unlike yesterday, these were happy tears. With all the failures that you had felt in the past two weeks, it meant everything to hear those words from someone, to get some confirmation that you weren’t completely messing things up.

Unable to make any words come out of your mouth, all you could do was nod in appreciation at what she was able to do for you today. Your eyes glimmering with unshed tears said all the words that Ms.Yeong needed to hear.

As she walked out the door, you made a mental note to message Seokjin and thank him for finding the angel on Earth who saved you today.

--♡--

Picking up your daughter from her crib, you cooed and brought her to you. Settling into your rocking chair, you cradled her gently in her arms.

“Mommy missed you today, babygirl, and I know you miss daddy.”

At the mention of the word “daddy” you could see your daughter perk up, looking around and trying to find said male.

All you could do is kiss her forehead. “I miss your daddy too. He’s really amazing, yknow.”

“Amazing, really? I may have said handsome, or sexy, or...”

Your head whipped around to the source of the sound.

And there he was, in the flesh. Jeon Jungkook, the man you had been waiting to see for days on end, was standing right at the door.

“Hi my love,” he said with his silly grin.

Your heart felt like it was bursting as you saw him there, and you couldn’t help but start sobbing your heart out (and I mean ugly sobbing). You felt a waterfall of emotions seeing Jungkook so close.

“Hey hey hey, what’s with this crying? I came home because I didn’t want you to be crying anymore baby.”

Walking over to you, he crouched in front of your chair and started to wipe your tears. Cupping your face in his hands, he pressed his forehead against you.

“I missed you Y/N. I missed you so much.”

You were still reeling from Jungkook’s presence.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this Kook. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Jungkook pressed a short kiss on your lips.

“Well believe it, I’m here for real babe,” he said sentimentally as he peppered your face with kisses.

Picking your daughter out of your grasp, Jungkook lifted Gidae into his hold, lifting her slightly into the air first to make her giggle. Putting on his best stern dad voice, he began his lecture.

“And you little miss, what is this I hear about you causing trouble for your mom?” Questioned Jungkook.

You smiled through your tears as you watched Jungkook go into “dad mode”.

“Before I left you promised you’d be a good girl, but I think good girls don’t cry all through the night and they definitely don’t make a mess with their toys or throw up all over their mommy.”

As Jungkook raised an eyebrow, your daughter looked at him, slightly apologetic, eyes shifting down to the floor, as if she could understand a word of what he said.

“But most of all Gidae, I missed you a whole lot. Your daddy missed you a whole lot.”

You felt like your heart could burst at the way Jungkook looked at your daughter. Even though he might be miles away when he works, you know that he doesn’t love you or your daughter any less.

“I’ll let you put her back to bed, daddy. It is my day off after all, right?” You joked with a chuckle.

Picking up your hand and kissing your palm, Jungkook grinned in agreement.

“Of course my love, go wash up and I’ll see you in bed.”

--♡--

After reading A Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Princess & the Pea, and Rainbow Fish, Gidae was beginning to yawn in Jungkook’s arms. It seemed that it wasn’t just Jungkook who was reluctant to let their father-daughter time come to an end, as Gidae was still fighting to keep her eyes open, and always kept one tiny fist clutched onto the middle of Jungkook’s shirt, as if she was worried he could disappear at any moment.

Wondering what was taking them so long, you peeked your head back in the doorway to watch Jungkook look at your daughter like she was the one who put the stars in the sky. Not wanting to interrupt, you stayed as silent as possible as you watched them together.

“Now I’m gonna say something very important Gidae, and you need to listen very very carefully to me.”

Bringing her up to eye level, Jungkook looked at your daughter sincerely as he continued.

“Sometimes daddy isn’t here and it’s just you and mommy, but I want you to know that daddy loves you and mommy so much, and you’re always gonna be daddy’s little girl, even if I’m not here with you. And I miss you always, so so much. Daddy loves you.”

You could see the tears start to stream down Jungkook’s face, and as much as you wanted to run to him and wipe his tears, just as he did hours earlier, you knew that this moment wasn’t for you. This was for Jungkook and Gidae, and you were sure that he was going to remember this forever.

“You know what would make me so happy Gidae? If you could say the word daddy. Come on - “da” “da”. You can do it!”

He started to bounce her on his lap, exaggerating his mouth movements so much that you were worried that he would accidentally pop his jaw out. His ministrations continued on fruitlessly, with Gidae still staring at him with big doe eyes (a trait she inherited from Jungkook, of course).

Unable to hide your presence any longer, you had to help Jungkook out. “You were only gone for 2 weeks, Kook. She’s still only 6 months old, it’s going to be a little while before she says any words.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that Gidae had finally succumbed to sleep in his arms, and he stared down at her again.

“Look at how big she is Y/N, she’s grown so much just in the little while I’ve been gone.”

He looked at you with tears shimmering in his doe eyes yet again.

“Seriously, next time I leave on a tour and come back she’s going to be walking and talking or something.” joked Jungkook as he lightly wiped his tears.

You hugged Jungkook from behind, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before resting your head on it.

“Wherever you are though babe, I’m gonna take photos and videos of all of it so you won’t miss a second of it.”

Jungkook stayed silent as he simply enjoyed having his small family together again.

“You were right earlier you know, on the phone.”

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, unsure of what he was getting at.

“This isn’t working - me leaving isn’t working. I’m not 15 years old anymore, when I could just drop everything and travel the world; I have the two most precious girls in the world with me now, and I need to take care of them.”

Putting his hand in yours, you sincerely looked him in the eye.

“We’re always going to be proud of you Koo, and you know I love watching you do what you love. This may be the hard part, once she gets a little older we could start travelling with you or you could fly back too. Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

Jungkook kissed you passionately, hoping his lips could convey what he couldn’t seem to put into words. He repeated your words back to you.

“Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

As if Mother Nature was on your side, the rain stopped, leaving the smell of new beginnings wafting in through your window.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡ - Emily

[slasherbastard]

50 Fluff Prompt List: #41, #47

(gif credit: holidayinnoirpunk)

Brahms tries to surprise you with a birthday breakfast

Word count: 1180

'Alright.' Brahms muttered under his breath as he dropped a cooking book onto the counter and nearly knocked one of the many containers of ingredients he'd gotten out earlier. This was his first time cooking a proper breakfast for himself in a long time - he was very much used to his old eating patterns back before he'd revealed himself to you where he'd steal food late at night and eat either meals that had gone cold in the freezer or anything that was raw yet edible since cooking it would just draw attention to him. Brahms was also very much used to your cooking and was excited today was your birthday, he even woke up earlier than usual because he was so pumped.

You'd woken up as he was trying to sneak out of bed and he tried to play it off as if you were dreaming but it clearly didn't work as you sat up and he began to panic. 'What is it, Brahmsy?' He turned and looked at you.

'Nothing, just don't come downstairs - take care of yourself.' You were still half asleep so you assumed that you'd misheard him and just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Now Brahms was now taking it upon himself to cook something not only special for him but also you, so now here he was trying to find the recipe for his biggest comfort food as a child - French toast. The last time he had eaten French toast was on the morning of his 8th birthday before the fire started, he thought that maybe his parents would make it at least a few more times while he was trapped in the walls but suddenly nearly 3 decades passed. He tried to make it once by himself but realised it was harder than he'd expected especially considering the fact that he didn't have the recipe or intermediate cooking skills past cereal and microwave mac n cheese. Finally, he found the page and felt his mouth watering as he tried to remember what it tasted like, it just looked too good to be true. He ran through the recipe twice and made sure he had everything or close enough to everything since Malcolm wasn't due for his next delivery until tomorrow before grabbing the eggs and following the instructions. As he prepared everything he couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline course through him as he began to imagine your reaction.

Brahms was too caught up in his daydream to realise he'd grabbed the wrong jar and ended up pouring canola oil instead of milk into the bowl and just stared at it in realisation before putting the bottle down and trying to figure out how to fix it, the recipe needed oil anyways for the pan, maybe it would still work?  Brahms nodded to himself - obviously doubting his own hypothesis - and continued preparing the dish. He grabbed a piece of bread and dropped it into the mix and then turned to the stove and lit it, grabbing a pan out of the cupboard and setting it over the fire and leaning over to grab the bowl and fishing out the single piece of bread and slapping it onto the ungreased pan. He expected the kitchen to be up in flames by now but somehow he was still a-okay so he assumed he was doing something right and waited for the bread to finish cooking.

Long story short, Brahms ended up burning the bread because he'd left it on the stove for too long and he turned the stove up too high. This was the moment he also realised that adding oil to the bread isn't as good as adding it to the pan because now the bread was stuck to the pan and the batter was turning a dark colour. The smell of smoke was making his nose hurt as he chucked the pan into the sink in annoyance and turned the water on only for the kitchen to be filled with the sound of sizzling and more smoke. Brahms began to panic as he took a rag out of the drawer beside him and began fanning the smoke away - curse the windows for not opening.

'Brahms?' You yawned and Brahms jumped, not realising you were standing just past the counter. "What's going on? I smelled smoke."

'I told you to look after yourself.' You could hear panic in his voice as he tried to subtly cover the burning pan in the sink even though you could still see smoke coming from just below him. 'I wanted to surprise you but I don't know how to cook.' you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle and walked around the counter and found the mess Brahms had made and looked down at the recipe book.

'French toast, huh? I love that.' Brahms' eyes lit up behind that porcelain mask of his as he reached over for that bowl of batter - which was now separated and floating in the oil - and you felt a little sick looking at it but you knew Brahms was trying his hardest.

'Can we fix it?'

'I'll have to start over, go practice that new song you're learning on the piano for the next hour and then it'll be ready.'

'But I want to help.'

'Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.' Brahms looked at you with what you'd imagine to be a mix of sadness and confusion but he didn't ask anymore questions as he exited the room.

Brahms watched as you placed the plate of freshly made French toast in front of him and nearly started tearing up at how beautiful it looked. You sat down opposite of him and the two of you began digging in and you felt like Brahms was really enjoying his meal since every bite was followed by him throwing his head back and moaning. You smiled at the sight and continued slowly eating.  'Y/N?'

'Hmm?' you hummed through a mouthful of bread.

'Happy Birthday.' Brahms seemed like he wanted to say more but cut himself short, then as you predicted, he started to talk again. 'I wish I could've helped. Sorry I couldn't do much.' You looked at him and pulled out your chair and Brahms stopped eating and watched as you got up and walked around the table and sat down beside him.

'Brahms, you did a great job." You smiled at him. 'This is the best birthday breakfast I've had. Thank you.' And without another word your head fell onto his shoulder and you wrapped your arms around his figure and nuzzled your face into his neck and he followed by wrapping his arms around you and just holding you. 'Plus-' you started - 'I don't need a thousand presents and friends to celebrate, I'm just glad that I get to celebrate with you.' Brahms pulled his mask down and tried to hide his blushed face, you're just so pure, what did he ever do to deserve you?

[reinerispretty]

groceries. (sokka x f!reader) modern AU

hello!!! i have been wanting to write this for a while. this is based off of one of my favorite songs :) i am sorry if you don’t like modern au’s but i just thought it would make more sense with the song!! it is called groceries and it’s by mallrat!! give it a listen :D

read part 2 here!

Real sorry about your broken heart I'm trying to walk on broken glass Do it all again for art Like had to write a song about it

(Y/N) walked up the concrete steps and four flights of stairs to Sokka’s apartment. By the time she reached his hall, her legs were aching, but she pushed through and walked down the hall to the dark grey door with the golden 4D loosely hanging from a screw. She knocked hard against the door, just in case he was listening to music, and tapped the hanging metal to make it swing. 

The door slowly opened to reveal Sokka, wearing a baggy light blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. (Y/N) smiled sadly as she stared at him. His eyes were puffy, like he had been crying, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her fingers tightened around the bag that was slung on her shoulder. 

“Can I come in?” Sokka shrugged, letting her into his apartment. It was oddly...clean. She had been here many times before and had never seen it this clean: no take out boxes strung across the counters, no clothes strung across the floor. It was like he didn’t even live here anymore. 

“Katara told me what happened,” she said quietly as she took a seat on the couch. Sokka scoffed. 

“Katara needs to mind her own business.” 

“Your business is her business, Sokka. She cares about you.” He stood with his back to the door, still not looking at her. She stood, dropping her bag on the floor and moving into the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything?” 

He shrugged. “I need to go to the store.” (Y/N) opened his fridge to find a single papaya on the top shelf. 

“I’ll take you.” She slung her bag over the shoulder. “Come on, it’s only a block away.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It looks like I do.”

I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that

Sokka sighed, grabbing his keys and wallet before they both went down the stairs. When they got outside, Sokka winced at the bright light. “When was the last time you went outside?” He turned his head away from her, avoiding her gaze again. It broke her heart, seeing him like this. Sokka was normally the sunshine in everyone’s day. Funny, outgoing, optimistic. She couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t smiled at her. 

They walked down the sidewalk side by side. She could tell that his mind was elsewhere, as she had to pull him out of the way of people on multiple occasions. “Thanks,” He mumbled as he pulled his arm away. (Y/N)’s fingers curled into her palm, which dropped to her side. She checked her phone to avoid having to start conversation. A message from Katara: Is he opening up yet? 

(Y/N) dropped her phone back into her bag as they walked into the grocery store. Sokka grabbed a cart, slumping over the railing as he followed (Y/N) through the store. She grabbed him the usual: bread, some cereal, fruits and veggies. She turned back to look at him. “What else do you need?” 

“Um...” He gestured lazily to the other side of the aisle. “Fruit snacks.” (Y/N) smiled, just a bit. 

“Mott’s or Welch’s?” She held up both boxes. Sokka thought for a moment before answering. 

“Welch’s.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose in disgust. “What’s wrong with Welch’s?” 

“Nothing, if you have bad taste.” She tossed the box into the cart, laughing at Sokka’s hurt expression as they moved onto the next aisle.

I just wanna get groceries I'll pray you wanna get close to me I'll give it some, give it some, give it some time But I think we're supposed to be And if you wanna get groceries And if you wanna get close to me Just gimme some, gimme some, gimme some sign I think that we're supposed to be

They moved onto the freezer aisle. (Y/N) grabbed almost every frozen meal under the sun. She returned to the cart with her arms full, dropping the meals on top of the rest of the groceries. “That’s a lot,” Sokka said. 

“It’ll be easy to pop in the microwave,” She explained. “From how your apartment looked it seemed like you couldn’t be bothered to feed yourself.” 

Sokka looked down at his hands. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” (Y/N) stared at him for so long that an old lady grumpily scooted her cart past them. 

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said quietly, but she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing to Sokka or the old lady. 

They checked out at the front and then carried armfuls of groceries back to his apartment. As they walked up all the stairs, (Y/N) wished that Sokka would move to a building like Aang’s, with a nice elevator. Instead he chose the building with the most stairs in the universe. 

They finally reached Sokka’s apartment and placed all of the groceries on the counter. (Y/N) began putting things in their proper place. She had been here enough times to know where he liked his things. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly. She didn’t turn back to look at him this time. 

“I know. I want to.” She moved to the stove and put a teapot on the burner. “Sit down, I can make us some tea.” 

He would normally argue playfully with her, but this time he didn’t say anything. He sat on the couch quietly and pulled his feet up, resting his elbow on the armrest. 

“Why’d you come?” 

“Because Katara called me. Asked me to check in on you.” 

“But why you?” (Y/N) cleared her throat. 

“She knows I care about you.” The teapot started to shout, so she took it off the burner and poured it into two cups with tea bags. She brought one over to Sokka and sat in the rocking chair beside the couch. There was so much space in between them. It wasn’t normal. They used to be so close. She remembered sitting on that exact same couch with him, laughing at one of his jokes while something on Netflix played in the background. Now it felt like she was sitting with a stranger. 

I wish that I could let it pass I don't mind that you put it last I made it worse, I put you first We're laughing like it didn't hurt I'm in the dirt, I'll make it work though

Sokka stared at the mug in front of him. It was a cheesy souvenir shop mug that read “World’s Best Boyfriend” and as sad as it was, it brought tears to his eyes. He used his sleeves to wipe them away before (Y/N) saw, but he was too late. She came to his side immediately and sat close to him. She didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, but she wanted to let him know that she was there. 

“I didn’t read the mug before I gave it to you, I’m sorry,” She whispered quietly. Sokka shook his head. 

“It’s fine, really, I’m fine.” He gave one large sniff before turning toward her, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

“Sokka...” She pulled her knees up on the couch. “It’s okay to not be okay.” 

“I just-” He wiped his nose. “Why did she have to leave?”

(Y/N) let out a large sigh. The distance between her and Sokka wasn’t without reason. After years of pining, he and Yue finally started dating. They were a cute couple, (Y/N) had to admit, but it hurt her too much to see them together. She had been in love with Sokka for as long as she could remember. They had even kissed once, a year ago, at Zuko’s birthday celebration. There had been alcohol involved, but (Y/N) had thought it might change things. A week later, he and Yue started dating and (Y/N) stopped coming around Sokka’s place as much. She would see him at gatherings and act like she was happy, but on the inside her heart was heavier than ever. She separated herself from their friend group for a while and whenever anyone asked she just claimed she was really busy from school. It was easier that way, not seeing anyone.  

But just as quickly as they got together, they separated. Yue packed all of her belongings and left without so much as a goodbye. And while she felt a little relieved when Katara had told her their relationship had ended, she couldn’t help but feel so sad for Sokka. He was the kindest human she had ever known and he didn’t deserve to feel like he had done something wrong. 

“Maybe she needed a fresh start,” (Y/N) said. 

“Without me.” He played with the frayed edges of his sleeves. 

“Sokka, Yue loved you a lot. Loved you so much that sometimes it made me sick. But sometimes, people need to leave to get their own stuff figured out. I guarantee it wasn’t because of you.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because you treated her like she hung up the moon and stars for you.” (Y/N) felt a lump forming at her throat. Whenever she thought about them, it made her sad. “You’re a good person, Sokka. And Yue knows that. But take it from me, maybe it just wasn’t the right time.” 

Sokka looked into (Y/N’s) eyes for the first time that day. He stared at her for a few moments and she stared right back, her gave immovable. Sokka was a go-with-the-flow kind of person, but (Y/N) was more of a rock. She especially needed to be a rock for him right now. 

“I’m glad Katara called you today,” He admitted. “I missed having you around.” 

A smile rose on (Y/N’s) lips. “Me too.” 

This sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Except ya, but you're just friends with Miss Independent And this sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Heart broke, but I spend it, 'cause I'm Miss Independent

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss , @aimee1602 , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @mdgrdians 

[thatdoctorharvey]

Flowers?

All I have to say is; I’m sorry.

Kudos to @soft-bois-make-me-simp for assisting with the idea. Don’t worry man, we can collab on another story!

Please listen to this while you read this!

There were only three times that Harvey would remember enjoying flowers. He usually wasn’t one for them, not because he was allergic or anything, he just didn’t find the reason to desire them.

Roses are red

The day he first knew he had feelings for you. He always said it was the best day of his life. He will never forget that day; the day you brought him wine on his birthday. You two had occasionally spoken from time to time, but it was really nothing super deep. You had opened up to him about a few things that you hadn’t told anyone else but not super personal. Mostly just little quirks you hated about yourself. He remembered blushing every time as everything you named seemed to be things he liked.

“So, how about a birthday dinner tonight Harv? I’m sure you can’t remember the last time you had a real meal.” You offered.

He was reluctant to answer at first, not wanting to be a bother, but he did hate his current diet and knew he needed to change it up a bit, even if his stomach might not agree with the sudden change from pre-packaged meals to home cooking.

“That...Sounds nice. Thank you.”

And boy was it nice. It was quite obvious you knew that he needed real food because you made more than enough for him just to make sure he had leftovers. He almost felt bad but you had insisted he needed it. You both knew it would be gone tomorrow. You secretly knew, he -- as a man -- had quite the appetite and had held back eating as much as he could with you around.

You left late that night, but left behind some flowers you had grown on the farm. They sat in a vase on the table, right next to his radio equipment.

“Feel free to get a hold of me if you need anything Harvey. Doctors deserve to be taken care of as well.”

Those words never left him. “Doctor’s deserve to be taken care of as well.” You cared about him and actually wanted to make sure he was doing okay. As suspected, you two grew closer after that. He started to become a lot more anxious but never made a move. 

What if you only wanted to be friends? That would be super awkward…

Violets are blue

The day you gave him the bouquet, he cried. Never had he felt so relieved and excited at the same time. You like him. No, you loved him. You. The precious farmer.

“A-are you sure? I’m so much older a-and there’s so many oth-”

“Harvey. I’ve made my choice.” You kissed his cheek. “I don’t want anyone else. They just aren’t my type.”

Fifty shades of red his face was. There was no denying that for sure. He was a tomato and a strawberry at the same time.

He’s never hugged you so tight either. Even when you brought the pendant to him (he was more gentle then). He just wished the flowers in the bouquet didn’t wilt. Joys of having live flowers though.

That and every month, you brought him a new bouquet. Not the exact same one, but you had started growing flowers specifically to make bouquets on your monthly anniversaries. 

My heart is dead 

The bouquets continued, even after marriage. Now, you just added an extra day and made sure the bouquets on your wedding anniversary were extra colorful. It was how you showed him how much you loved him.

He adored this. A lot. It always made his day, even if the day was actual garbage. Coming home to you was always enough to make him happy, but coming home to a bouquet on the table, dinner being cooked, and the sound of you humming...Oh it just made his heart melt. Even after almost five years of it.

They always reminded him of the wedding -- the last time he recalled loving flowers. You had made sure your bouquet was the brightest thing in existence, jokingly saying you wanted the attention to be on that instead of your face. He still scolds you for that. Playfully of course.

I'm such a fool

He couldn’t recall when things started to go downhill. Things had been okay for so long that he didn’t see it at first. He knew you were busy so he never thought much of it when you would come home late.

Until you started coming home drunk.

There were times he would wonder where you were or why you were drinking...But for a while, he didn’t think to ask who you were drinking with. When he found out you and Shane had been growing closer, he got jealous. He knew you wouldn’t leave him, but the anxiety started to build. You were starting to pass out drunk on the way home or you and Shane would fall asleep at the bar.

Of course, he had to confront you about it. Not in a mean way, at least he thought he didn’t.

“It’s not okay for you to be doing that? Do you know how bad that is for you and how bad of an influence he is?”

Wrong answer.

“You don’t even know him. You just cared about making ends meet and didn’t really listen to him.”

Why did I fall for you?

He was grateful you had started to listen to him after that. You came home at night sober, but you began to distance yourself. In fact, you had begun to hang out with everyone but him. You stopped making the bouquets. You stopped giving him gifts. It soon came to a point where he felt like you wanted nothing to do with him. He felt empty and felt he had to make it up to you.

He messed up right? He could fix this...He had to.

I gave it all for you

Dinner every night was a pain, but he did it. He always made sure yours was hot, even when you came home at 1 am. He would be there, taking it out of the microwave. Dishes were always done. The house was always clean and very tidy. Farm was always taken care of. He really worked his ass off to make sure you were happy.

But it wasn’t enough.

You kept pushing yourself further and further from him. It eventually got to the point where you slept on the couch just to avoid him.

It was when he found the letter on your nightstand that he knew there was no fixing this.

So, knowing he wasn’t welcome, he packed his stuff and went back to his apartment above the clinic. Maru, who Harvey had been talking to about everything when things started to go south, helped him get settled back into his old home. She was the one who held him when he cried that night and she was the one who made sure he ate something before bed. She even told him to let her know if she needed to work more at the clinic, not wanting him to be pushed too much.

He was appreciative, but knew his work would be the only thing that would take his mind off of you.

Love around my neck starting to feel like the noose

The words lingered in his head for days. Every sentence filled him with hurt. What had he done wrong? Was he really that boring and unattractive? Should he have just given up at the beginning? Did you ever really love him?

Why did this happen to him?

He lost weight from his loss of appetite. He knew it was unhealthy, especially when people began to notice, but he always said he had started to work a bit harder to get physically fit and the results were starting to show. He didn’t want anyone to know how hurt he really was. Maru knew, and if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have eaten.

He numbed himself to relationships of any kind. He once was very close with his patients, now he just saw them as his next visit. Even with Maru. He only saw her as an employee.

All of the lies starting to feel like the truth

He began to drink. He knew it would hurt him more, but his heart hurt all the time. He had no one to turn to when he really needed to talk, as everyone was asleep by then...But not you. You were always awake. He would hear you stumble out of the bar, laughing with at least one other person. You were drunk too, but you got to enjoy your time. He didn’t.

“Why me?”

At the end of the day, bitch, I'm not feeling you

After so long, he began to get used to the sound of you going home drunk. In fact, it worried him when you didn’t.

It started as just one night, no big deal. But then two...three...seven...twelve…

People began to look worried. No one had seen or heard from the town’s dear farmer in nearly two weeks.

The search parties started. Being himself, Harvey made sure to go. Yes, you hurt him, but by God what he would give for you to just run back into his arms and say how much you love him.

You playing with my heart, you made me look like a fool

He hated that he had been the one to find you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were gone; your skin a gray/blue color and flies around you. What killed you, he didn’t know. Only an autopsy would tell him.

At least until he further examined you.

A rather large wound on your abdomen. It was much too big to be treated on your own, but by the looks of it, you had tried to stitch it closed.

...You died because you refused to go to him for help and bled out...

This, a tragedy, it may end up on the news

The funeral was a sad one. It rained that day. Hard. Everyone in town was there too. Everyone. You had grown so close to everyone in your time away from Harvey. They all cared so much about you and our death hit hard.

It was also at the funeral where he realized how bad he had messed up. You hadn’t just been getting closer to Shane, you were getting closer to everyone. They all said a little bit of the stuff you did for them, mostly just helping out with tasks and small favors. You had started staying with Shane at the bar because he talked more when he was drunk and you had started getting drunk with him because it helped him open up. You were just trying to help him.

And Sam. You were helping him learn how to play cooler songs on the guitar and even showed him a couple cool tricks on the skateboard.

Abigail and Pierre had finally begun to form a bit of a stronger bond because you had been helping them talk through their differences.

You had been doing so much and he basically said you were cheating on him.

So, there he stood, watching the casket be lowered into the hole, and then buried. Many tears were shed. Many. Everyone knew the town wouldn’t be the same without you there. Especially Harvey.

At the end of the day, I don't wanna be with you

It rained today too.

“You still looked beautiful that day.” Harvey said softly, arranging the bouquet in his hand. All the flowers were brightly colored. Not as bright as you would have wished, but he was trying his best. “The flowers just enhanced your beauty.”

He stood in front of the tombstone, a large frown on his face. It had been even years since you had passed now, and he wasn’t doing any better. He still cried a lot, but now, it was more just a feeling. He couldn’t bring himself to get over you.

He slowly set the bouquet down against the silver tombstone, making sure you would be able to see it from the heavens.

“Happy Anniversary (y/n). I’m sorry I wasn’t a better husband to you and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you.” He slipped his glasses off his face and fell to his knees, letting the tears fall. “I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t believe you! I’m sorry I let my feelings take over! I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you! I love you so much!”

Loud sobs left his mouth, his tears blending with the rain as they fell to the ground. His heart, for the millionth time, shattered before him.

“Harvey?” A soft voice asked.

The doctor wiped his eyes and turned his head slightly. At this point, everyone had seen him like this. He didn’t care anymore.

It was none other than Abigail behind him, an umbrella above her head and a spare one at her side.

“Hey, it’s okay. We all miss her.” She said and handed him her spare umbrella. “We’re all worried about you too. You aren’t the same.” She sat beside him. “We all arranged something to help you. Come to the saloon so we can tell you, please.”

Harvey looked to Abigail, and then back to the bouquet. You wouldn't want him to be sad. You hated seeing him cry. Maybe this was a sign from you.

“...O-okay...Thank you...Just, give me another moment. I-I’ll be there.” He mumbled, trying to hold back sobs.

Abigail nodded and stood, letting him have a moment while she told everyone what was going on. Harvey sat there a moment longer, wiping his eyes to rid them of the tears. He sniffed once more before saying the same thing he did every year. The poem you had written for him. Part of it at least. It was a reminder to the both of you that he knew he messed up.

“Roses are red...Violets are blue...My heart is...is dead...I...I’m such a fool…”

The tears came back.

“I’m such a fool.”

[heroes-feasting]

Otik’s Skillet-Fried Spiced Potatoes

[...] the recipe featured below is widely thought to be the closest that one can come to the feeling of sitting atop the famed vallenwood tree tavern with one of his homebrewed dark ales in hand. - Heroes’ Feast, p. 20

Hashbrowns are one of my all-time favourite breakfast side dishes but usually have a large time component or an uninteresting flavour. After trying numerous recipes, I was beginning to wonder if I would ever find one that I would enjoy. Then came Otik's Skillet-Fried Spiced Potatoes! The first time making these for my house, we were all blown away by how great they were! 

Seasoned to perfection with a kick of spice, these skillet fried potatoes have become a staple at our Saturday morning breakfast table. They’re amazing whether eaten the day-of or heated up later. Try the ultimate breakfast trio and eat them with the Yawning Portal Buttermilk Biscuits (p. 31) and the Feywild Eggs (p. 58).

Want to eat them but aren’t a morning person? No problem! These fried potatoes also make an amazing base for a fun lunch or dinner meal. Just add some sausage and chopped green pepper and voilà!

See below for my notes on the results and for some helpful tips and tricks when making this yourself! Get Heroes’ Feast here: https://dnd.wizards.com/heroes-feast

Prep Time: ~15 mins        Cook Time: ~40 mins        Overall: ~55 mins

For the ingredients:

2 tablespoons neutral-tasting oil

1 large yellow onion

1 tsp. kosher salt ( ½ tsp. for onions, ½ for spicing)

1.5 lbs. Yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed or peeled, cut into ¾-inch pieces

1 tbsp. salted butter

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1 tsp. sweet paprika

1 tsp. cayenne*

½ tsp. garlic powder

2 tbsp. minced fresh chives

*See ingredients notes

I use the following conversions in my cooking:

1 lb. potatoes = 500 g

½ tsp. garlic powder = 1.5 g

1 tsp. cayenne pepper = 1.8 g

1 tsp. sweet paprika = 2 g

½ tsp. kosher salt = 3 g

Although they may seem inconsequential, I would consider the chives a necessity with this recipe. The fried potatoes are amazing on their own but pairing them with the chives really makes them shine.

I have made these fried potatoes both with and without the onion due to differing tastes in my house. I would suggest using a little more garlic powder than what’s called for if leaving out the onion.

TIP: To save yourself time in the morning, cut up the onion and the potatoes the night before. Keep fresh by submerging the cubed potatoes in cold water and covering the onions in cling wrap and storing them in the fridge.

NOTE:  I would 100% recommend using a non-stick skillet for this recipe if you have access to one. I tried making these in a stainless steel pan with the recommended amount of oil: the skins stuck to the bottom instantly and the pan was a nightmare to clean.

NOTE: I would caution the amount of cayenne pepper called for in this recipe. Even for the spice junkies in my house, 1 tsp. was A LOT of cayenne pepper. I would recommend starting with a little bit less than ¼ tsp. (~0.4 g) and increase it from there each time you make them.

Above is what my onions looked like after I fried them up. I did my best to achieve the “browning with brown edges”. 

Don’t skip the salt on this step, it helps the onions brown!

NOTE: With a properly heated pan, I’ve found that 4 minutes on medium-high and 4 minutes on medium were too generous for time. Once you’ve gotten the oil shimmering, they’ll need only 3 minutes on each.

Above are the potatoes after they were softened in the microwave. 

Heroes’ Feast mentions this, but do make sure to drain any water the potatoes have released. Skipping this will mess with the development of the skins and cooking time.

TIP: To save time, put the potatoes in the microwave when you start cooking the onion.

Above is the progression of what the potatoes looked like as they were cooking. 

Pic 1: Potatoes when just put into the pan

Pic 2: First flip after 6 minutes

Pic 3: Second flip after 6 minutes

Pic 4: Third flip after 4 minutes

Not shown: I flipped them once more after 4 minutes right before stirring in the spices and onion

Altogether, the potatoes were fried for 20 minutes.

TIP: If you don’t only have unsalted butter to combine with the oil, add a small pinch of kosher salt to the pan.

NOTE: Remember to never overcrowd the pan when cooking! However, if you find that you have, it’s fixable. Simply make sure that you’re always moving the potatoes on the outside edges in when you flip them and cook the potatoes for as long as it takes for the biggest pieces to have softened.

Above is what the potatoes looked like after stirring in the spices and the onion.

TIP: To keep the onions from cooking more when you return them to the pan, mix in the spices first then take the pan off the heat for ~30-45 seconds before adding them in. They’ll still cook a little, but there’s less risk of them burning.

Overall, I would give this recipe a 5/5. Like the Yawning Portal Buttermilk Biscuits, they’ve quickly become a weekend brunch staple in our house!

Additionally, these go great with a homemade (or store-bought!) hollandaise sauce or when eaten as a side for the Feywild Eggs. The richness and flavours combine to create an amazing taste that’s sure to liven up your morning!

For best freshness results, store in a sealed container in the fridge. Keeps for up to 4 days.

NOTE: Consensus in our house: Those who enjoy onion give them a 5/5 with onion and a 4/5 without. For those who don’t, they’re a 5/5 without onion. So, overall, you really can’t lose! Just remember to adjust the spices (especially the cayenne pepper!!) if you’re making a smaller side batch for someone who doesn’t like onions. Learned that the hard way...

[refinedbuffoonery]

Flawless (1)

A Heist/Ocean’s 8 AU // Masterlist 

This story has been rattling around in my head for months now, and I’m so excited to finally share it with you! I’ve been describing this as an Ocean’s 8 AU, but it’s based more on the concept of the movie than the actual plot, although a few of the basic scenes are the same. Regardless, I have big plans for these girls. Content warnings for this fic are listed on the masterlist (link above). 

*****

“Good morning,” the parole officer said. “Please state your name for the record.” 

“Riley Davis.” 

“Thank you. Miss Davis, the purpose of this hearing is to determine whether you are likely to break the law again if released. According to the record, this is your first conviction, and you have never been suspect in another criminal investigation. During your time in prison, you kept to yourself and were well behaved.” The man looked up from her file. “As you know, parole is not a right. Parole is an immense privilege, Miss Davis, one you should not take lightly.” 

“I agree,” she said. 

“Good. What would you do if released?” 

Riley paused, thinking through her answer. “I would settle down, find a good job, fall in love, maybe have kids. I’ve learned my lesson, sir. It was a mistake. Now all I want is to lead a simple, happy life.” She placed one hand over the other, crossing her fingers on her covered hand. 

He squinted at her for a long time, like he was trying to read her mind. Riley painted her face in remorse. After several minutes, the parole officer relented and, apparently satisfied with her answers, said, “Very well.” 

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. By the end of the day, she’d be free. 

The officer continued, “The following are the conditions of your parole. You will report to me, in person, every two weeks until your parole period has ended. You may not cross state lines without my express permission. You must find and maintain steady employment. You may not use drugs or alcohol, nor enter any drinking establishments. You may not possess firearms or other weapons, and you may not associate with other persons with criminal records. In addition, you must obey all federal, state, and local laws, and generally be an upstanding citizen. If you do not follow these rules, Miss Davis, you will find yourself back in custody. Do I make myself clear?” 

Riley nodded. So close. “Yes, sir.” 

Extending his hand, the parole officer said, “Congratulations, Miss Davis. You are now a conditionally free woman.” 

“Thank you.” Riley shook his hand. 

The rest was all a blur. One minute she was sitting in a cold, metal chair with her wrists cuffed to a table, and before she knew it, Riley found herself changing out of her atrocious orange jumpsuit and pulling on skinny jeans and her buttery soft black leather jacket. Wearing real clothes didn’t hide the fact that she looked like shit, but in that moment Riley didn’t care. She was getting out of prison. 

After two years, one month, and four days, she was finally being released from prison. 

Two officers walked her to the exit. Opening the door, Riley squinted in the bright afternoon sunlight. She found herself in one last cage of chain-link fences with coils of barbed wire arching over the tops, and Riley quickened her steps through the open gate in front of her. 

A familiar face waited in the parking lot, perched on the back of a motorcycle. “Welcome back,” Nikki Carpenter said. The pair shared a conspiratorial grin. 

Riley hadn’t known who the officers called to pick her up, but perhaps her best friend coming to take her home was the universe’s repayment for the last two years. Nikki handed Riley a helmet before putting on her own and swinging her leg over the sleek, white bike. 

Riley started to put the helmet on and hesitated. She turned, looking back at the concrete cage she’d spent the last two years of her life in. Even though her sentence was only three years, the nagging voice in the back of her mind had reminded her every day that she might not make it out. Taking a shaky breath, Riley vowed to herself that she would die before finding herself on the wrong side of those fences and walls again. 

Never again. No matter what. 

Nikki must’ve noticed her hesitation, because she rested a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “You okay?” 

Still facing the prison, Riley couldn’t form the words to respond. 

“Hey. Thank you,” Nikki added softly. 

Riley didn’t want to deal with the implications of that ‘thank you.’ Not yet. Finally tearing her eyes away, she said, “Let’s get out of here.”

*****

“God, I need a drink,” Riley said as soon as they entered Nikki’s cozy two-bedroom apartment. Located in the heart of downtown LA, it was on the top floor of her building, so Nikki wasn’t subject to loud overhead neighbors stomping and dropping things in the middle of the night, but the elevator moved at a glacial pace and descending twelve flights of stairs was a bitch. Riley preferred residences that were easier to vacate—in case of emergency or unfortunate run-in with the feds—but it was nice enough. 

Nikki raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t avoiding alcohol a condition of your parole?” 

Riley shot her a withering glare and strode into the kitchen. She opened the white-painted cabinet above the stove, revealing Nikki’s extensive stockpile of wine and hard liquor, and dug around until she found the mason jar full of moonshine hidden in the back. Taking a big swig, Riley held Nikki’s gaze, daring her best friend to try to stop her. 

Nikki simply opened the fridge, pulled out some sort of leftovers, and put them in the microwave. While she waited, Nikki studied her. This is what it feels like to be an animal at the zoo, Riley thought as she squirmed under her friend’s scrutiny, crossing her arms over her chest. Riley took another big gulp of moonshine, letting the clear liquid burn her throat and make her stomach churn. 

The microwave beeped. Nikki grabbed a fork and the food and held it out to Riley. Content to doom herself to the worst hangover of her life, Riley shook her head in dismissal. 

“Eat,” Nikki commanded. She tugged on the waistband of Riley’s jeans. “You and I both know those weren’t mom jeans when you bought them.” 

Riley blinked. She’d eaten less while in prison, but it never seemed like a big deal. But the way Nikki was looking at her...she might as well have turned into a skeleton. Suddenly self-conscious, Riley obediently traded her drink for the food—lasagna, she realized—and settled onto the couch. 

After two years of cardboard-flavored prison food, the lasagna tasted like heaven. 

Riley waited until Nikki was mid-gulp before announcing, “I’ve got a plan.” Her best friend nearly choked. “Want to help me get the gang back together?” 

“What’s your plan?” Nikki ground out between coughs. 

Riley grinned. “I figure it’s time we go on that little trip to Paris we’ve always talked about.” 

Nikki shook her head. “Damn, you’re one crazy bitch, Riley Davis. You know that?” She paused, contemplating. “I’m in.” Handing back the moonshine, Nikki added, “But tonight, I say we get drunk and celebrate your freedom. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Thirty minutes in, they’d finished the whole jar of moonshine, and Riley’s head spun. She stumbled into the kitchen in search of water, suddenly grateful Nikki had made her eat a substantial meal before drinking. 

“So,” Riley slurred. “How’s it going with that boyfriend of yours? The cute blonde one.” 

Nikki groaned. “You mean the big fat liar? Fabulous.” 

“So it all blew up in smoke.” 

“You have no idea.” Nikki shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Anyway, I’m back to being single, but Sam and Desi are still as insufferable as ever.” 

“Think they’ll get married?” 

“No way. That’s just one more thing they’d have to deal with if they ever have to fake their own deaths.” 

“On the contrary,” Riley drawled, “they should take out disgustingly large life insurance policies and then take turns faking their deaths every time they run out of money.” The idea sounded flawless to her drunk brain. “I’ll help them with their new identities for a cut.” 

“How big?” 

“Twenty percent.” 

Nikki snorted. “Like they’d ever agree to that.” 

Riley snuggled up to Nikki as they settled in to watch a movie, ducking under Nikki’s arm and using her boobs as a pillow. As Riley’s eyes caught Nikki’s laptop charging on a nearby table, her friend’s babbling about what chick-flick to watch faded into white noise. Riley’s fingers twitched. It’d been too long since she had the comfort of a keyboard beneath the pads of her fingers—since she felt powerful, the way Riley always did when armed with a computer. 

Too long, in fact, since she’d had any agency at all. Riley banished the thought before Nikki could notice where her attention had wandered. 

The movie turned out to be one they’d seen a thousand times, but Riley didn’t mind. Honestly, she needed the familiarity, not that she would admit that to Nikki. Even drunk, Riley loathed to reveal any sort of weakness, no matter how small and insignificant. 

Nikki pinched her side. “You’re brooding. Stop it.” Riley grumbled, but she let the movie distract her all the same. 

When the credits rolled, Riley glanced up at Nikki and found her friend already staring down at her as she rubbed Riley’s head. That caged animal feeling resurfaced. It was moments like these when Riley hated how well Nikki knew her, making it that much harder to hide everything going on in her head. 

In an attempt to escape, she said, “I’m thirsty. Let’s celebrate.” Riley forced a giggle as she walked back to the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses from the cabinet. Everything in Nikki’s kitchen was exactly where it was two years ago, the layout as familiar to her as her own. Did she still have her own? Riley was too drunk to remember what happened to the spacious penthouse apartment of a convicted felon. 

“Riles, nooooooooo,” Nikki whined. “We are so drunk already. We cannot drink any more.” 

“Relax.” Riley rummaged through the fridge, pulling out the milk and a bottle of chocolate sauce. She filled the wine glasses with milk, then added an ungodly amount of chocolate, giggling again when the bottle made a fart noise. Riley didn’t mix it very well, but she was too drunk to care. “Your chocolate milk, milady.” She held out the better mixed of the two, keeping the worse one for herself. Nikki accepted. 

Riley held up her glass in a toast. “To freedom,” she said. “And doing whatever the fuck we want.”

*****

“Phone,” Riley demanded the next morning. Nikki handed hers over without even looking up from the scrambled eggs she was making. Riley unlocked it on the first try. “You haven’t changed your password in the last two years? C’mon, you know better than that!” 

“My password is twenty-nine characters long! I don’t think anyone is going to…Wait you still remember it?” 

Riley scrolled through Nikki’s contacts with one hand, the other busy stuffing her face with toast. “Obviously,” she said through a mouthful of cinnamon swirl bread. 

“Damn,” Nikki muttered, turning back to her eggs. 

Riley found the name she was looking for. Desi Nguyen. The call nearly went to voicemail before the woman on the other end snarled, “What?” 

Riley couldn’t help her grin. “I’m out, and I’ve got a job.” 

“Good for you. Let me know how long you last living the clean life.” 

“No, you jackass. A job. You in?” 

Desi didn’t even hesitate. “Hell yeah I’m in.” 

“Great,” Riley said, “and since I’m assuming Cage’s mouth is too occupied to answer, tell her I say hello.”

“Fuck off,” Desi growled, but it came out just a tad breathless. She hung up before Riley could make a snarky comment about being right. 

“So,” Nikki asked. She dumped the scrambled eggs on two plates. “Are they in?” 

“They’re in.” Riley smirked, gratefully accepting her plate. She sat down at the kitchen table and resumed scrolling through Nikki’s contacts. Riley reached the bottom of the list, but the name she was looking for wasn’t there. Riley checked again to make sure she hadn’t overlooked it. 

“Why isn’t Leanna’s number in your phone?” Nikki kept eating. “Nik,” Riley pressed. “Why don’t you have her number? What happened while I was...gone?” If Nikki noticed how she’d stumbled over the last word, her friend didn’t let on. 

“Leanna got out. Got clean. She’s CIA now.” Nikki’s cold stare was clear. Do not ask me about this again. 

“Oh.” Riley hadn’t seen that coming. “How the hell did she pull that off?” 

“She’s good at making people disappear,” Nikki said matter-of-factly. “Guess she finally used her skills on herself.” There was more Nikki wasn’t saying, but Riley didn’t push her. 

They ate their scrambled eggs in silence. 

As she cleared their plates, Nikki said, “So tell me about this plan of yours. Are we really doing it?” 

“If by ‘it’ you mean the heist of a lifetime, then yes. We are absolutely doing it.” Riley swung her feet onto Nikki’s now-vacated chair. “I had two long years to figure out exactly how to pull it off. All I need now is my team.” 

Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Your team? Last I checked, the Five Eyes were our team.” 

Rolling her eyes, Riley snarked, “Semantics.” 

“Whatever.” Nikki was clearly upset, but Riley couldn’t bring herself to care. “I’m going to take a shower.” 

“Don’t drown,” Riley replied automatically. 

As soon as she heard the rush of water moving through the pipes, Riley snatched Nikki’s laptop. Once again, the password was still the same. Nikki took long showers, so Riley figured she had at least thirty minutes to find the information she needed. 

Hacking into the CIA’s employee database was all too easy for someone like Riley Davis. She practically had the secrets of the universe at her fingertips, but Riley didn’t waste time snooping. All she cared about was one name: Leanna Martin.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O7 - “the promising proposition”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 5.1k

warnings: cursing (if i miss any, let me know!)

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients. 

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total. 

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: it’s been a minute but we’re back! winter break is here and i’m determined to write so here’s part 7 as i still work on my tae halloween fic (whew) and some more holiday related scenarios/oneshots. thank you all for being so patient and i hope you enjoy this next part. i only have one more pre-written part for this story so updates may be even slower lol. as always, send your reactions as they make me super happy lmao. thank you vi for beta-reading this and enjoy everyone!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

The four of you sit in Manager Kim’s office, tense. Well, three as Paul had ruined his chances during last week’s meeting but you know he can feel the heaviness in the air as you wait for Madeline’s decision. She sits comfortably behind her large desk after calling you in to tell you who’d be assisting her on the Cavallero project. Her large, black fedora is propped on her head at a dangerous angle as she has her feet kicked up on her desk, her signature steel toed boots accentuating her full black outfit. You’d spent the previous days in the breakroom trying to figure out what made this project a higher priority than the rest of the contracts you’d acquired and who would be the lucky winner.

“Lovely of you all to join me, though Paul you were not really needed.” He tries his best to hide behind Laura from Manager Kim’s disappointed stare, but to no avail. “I know you all have been eagerly anticipating which one of you lucky interns will have the privilege of working with me on the first part of the Cavallero contract. You’ll find out shortly as his assistant will be dropping off the final notes on what he expects to see at the event; I’ll send one of you down to fetch him. We’ll have a brief meeting afterwards and then get to work. The rest of you will work under that person, following their orders diligently. Now, I need updates on the rest of our projects. Where are we?”

You barely listen as James rattles off what he was able to accomplish with the Emmerson’s engagement party. You think his design is doable, chic for an event planned in spring, but lacking in some of the finer details you know the future Mrs. Emmerson would appreciate; she’s a woman after your own heart with her love for champagne, meals created by chefs with Michelin stars, and exquisite fine china. Of course Madeline would pit you against each other for this job though. Not that you mind, you’re more than capable of fighting for what you believe is mine. It’s just less work when it’s given to you nicely packaged. Like the gifts you’re sure future Mrs. Emmerson would like to receive from her future husband’s wealthy friends.

“Y/N?” You focus back on Manager Kim who’s waiting expectantly, her glasses slipping down her nose. “The Williams’? What’s going on there? Or have you not made any progress?”

“The Williams have signed off on the zoo theme for their son,” James interjets before you can gather your thoughts. “We’re looking into finding the best face painters in the city and we’ve almost secured a catering contract for the 150 vegan cupcakes Mrs. Williams ordered. The invitations are currently being designed based on the chosen theme and will be ready for client approval next week.”

“Very good, James. Please send me a copy of your notes to be added into the file. Y/N, I expect better from you. That’s everything I have for today. You’re all dismissed,” she finishes with a wave of her hand, her glasses sliding down her nose once again as she searches for one particular document on her desk.

You don’t wait for the rest of them to follow as you make your way back to the tiny cubicle-like room you share. Manager Kim normally never calls you out in front of the rest of them and you’re fuming. Tossing down your legal pad, you whirl around as the three of them enter the room.

“What the fuck, James?!” you hiss as he calmly sits behind his desk and resumes typing on his computer.

“Looks like the Princess is upset,” Paul stage-whispers to Laura as he too sits down. You ignore him. He’s just as irrelevant beforehand as he is now.

“What do you need, Y/N? I have to send the notes from the meeting to Manager Kim,” James responds, not looking up at you. Your face further sours.

“You read my fucking files?! That wasn’t your event to handle and you know that!” you yell.

“Well, you took too long to respond -”

“I had barely opened my mouth -”

“- and Manager Kim needed a response, so I responded,” he finishes, ignoring your outburst.

“Y/N, please calm down. We don’t want to make a scene,” Laura pleads.

“Calm down? Laura, he made me look incompetent,” you argue.

“But you are, Y/N.” You pause and turn to James once again. Disbelief is written across your face as you stare each other down. You were the imcompetent one? “You should be ready to answer any question about any event J&M has going on whether it’s your’s or someone else’s. It’s not my fault that you were never taught the basics of efficiency in a company. The job has to get done and I completed the task. Simple,” he finishes. His incessant typing is all you hear as you stare at him. James had never been this bold before. Especially not with you.

“Watch your mouth, James,” you tell him coolly.

“Furthermore, your failure in that meeting shows that you’re incapable of handling bigger projects. I mean, you couldn’t recall the most straightforward details of a birthday party for a six-year-old child. Why should Manager Kim trust you to work on the coveted Cavallero contract? You’ve given her no reason to. All you’ve done is eliminated yourself from the running, effectively leaving Laura and I. Which is no challenge because -  no offense Laura - you’re not really competition. I just hope you guys can maange when my hands are full with this project.”

You laugh as Laura cowers. You weren’t sure whether it was from the sound or James’ particularly harsh words, but the atmosphere in the room was much worse than in the meeting. Biting back the words you really wanted to tell him, you heed Laura’s advice and decide to not cause a scene. This is a professional establishment and you need this job. There are goals you want to accomplish and you wouldn’t let a slimy bastard like James Carter distract you. He’d finally shown his true colors - what he really thought of you - and you’re only grateful the others had been around to witness it.

“Alright, James. It seems like you’ve been holding back on us. Just remember: a word once let out of a cage cannot be whistled back again,” you tell him as you resume your duties at your desk. Flipping open a new page of your legal pad, you write neatly at the top: Emmerson Engagement. If James thought he had bested you, he had another thing coming.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Laura asks as she joins you in the staff room for lunch.

“Never better,” you reply, sipping on your iced coffee as you warm your leftover lasagna in the microwave. Gods bless your sweet, sweet roommate.

“What James said to you this morning was pretty harsh,” she says as she makes herself a steaming cup of green tea. Always the health conscious one that girl.

“James seems to be tired of our shit,” you chuckle. “I’ve heard worse though, Laura. Don’t worry about me. He said some pretty harsh things about you, too.”

She nods. “I didn’t think he could be so mean! And counting me out?! I worked really hard on my designs!” Laura’s voice doesn’t sound too sure, but you nod in agreeance.

“Your bridal party design last spring was very well done,” you tell her around a mouthful of lasagna.

“Exactly!” she says in a huff as she plops down across from you, nearly burning herself in the process. “And your event was really good too! The one you did a few months ago,” she trails off. You laugh.

“Which one was that?”

“You know, the one for the family with that really fancy theme? And lots of people came...”

“Oh, the Winter Wonderland scene on the ice rink?”

“Yes, that one!” she exclaims.

“That was Marie’s project before she got transferred to Jenson’s team,” you say with a laugh. Laura almost chokes on her tea as you wipe your mouth clean. “No need for you to try and make me feel better by pretending to remember something I’ve worked on. I’m honestly fine,” you chuckle again.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry -”

“Y/N?” James stands in the doorway looking quite displeased. You raise your eyebrows at him in response. “Manager Kim would like to see you in her office. Please make it quick as I’m going to get Mr. Cavallero’s assistant soon.” You laugh loudly.

“Of course, James. I’ll be sure to let Manager Kim know you’d like her to rush her meeting for your convenience.”

He scowls as you brush past him, your half-eaten lunch and coffee in hand. Mercury must be in retrograde for James to think that he can make demands of you any type of way. It seems that you need to put him back in his place; he’d gotten too comfortable with the little office jokes you all shared. Grabbing your legal pad and pen, you smooth down the little flyaway hairs and your white button down shirt; you couldn’t receive another lashing looking unkempt. Knocking on the door, you wait for Manager Kim to answer before you enter.

“You asked to see me, Manager Kim?”

“Yes. Please take a seat, Y/N. I’ll be with you in a second,” she replies as she finishes typing on her computer. You sit gingerly in the unoccupied chair as you’d done this morning and wait for her to rip into you. “Right. Let’s get to it. What was that this morning?” You inhale deeply.

“Honestly, I was thinking about James’ event and mentally noting changes I would make as possible suggestions to him when you called on me. I wasn’t dozing off because I was bored,” you answer.

“Hmm. And what changes would you have made?” she asks curiously as she gives you her undivided attention.

“Well, the future Mrs. Emmerson is a woman of prestige. Class. While roses are a classic choice, white tulips are pre-on-trend and I think she would enjoy being a part of that group. He also chose the Dom Perignon champagne, but I thought Veuve Clicquot would be the better option. High price doesn’t always mean high flavor. I do agree with his choice of venue though. The high ceilings will look great in the low afternoon light and the white lights in the evening will make for great photos,” I finished. “But of course, the client is always right and if this is her chosen design, we’ll go with that.”

Manager Kim stares at you until you start to feel slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. You know you hadn’t overstepped and she had asked for your honest opinion, but when sitting in front of one of the best event designers in the game, second guessing yourself is inevitable.

“You didn’t think to say anything earlier in the meeting?” she asks.

“I wasn’t aware that giving opinions on other people’s events was ideal during a regular updates meeting.”

“You should speak up more. Your ideas aren’t as bad as you think they are,” Madeline says as she leans back in her chair. “How else do you expect to lead any major project?”

Just as you’re going to respond, a knock sounds at the door. “Come in!” Manager Kim yells.

“Should I leave? James did say he was going to collect Mr. Cavallero’s assistant,” you trail off, getting ready to stand.

“No. No, you’re fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Ah, Mr. Carlisle - oh! And Mr. Cavallero! What a surprise! I didn’t know you would be joining us,” Manager Kim says as she stands and you follow suit.

“I happened to have some free time and decided to tag along as Lewis was dropping off the notes. I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be helpful to have me here in case you had any questions that needed direct attention,” Mr. Cavallero responds. “And please, call me Jonas.”

Mr. Cavallero, or Jonas as he would like to be referred to, is dressed in his typical big spender suit: a deep navy blue suit with a pristine white buttoned-down shirt and pre-released Versace patent leather monk strap shoes. His aura fills the entire space, though he only stands in the doorway of Madeline’s office. You can practically feel the gel between your fingers as you look at his salt-and-pepper slicked back hair; the sheen is almost as bright as his shoes.

“And Miss Y/L/N, yes? What a pleasure to see you again. Will you be sitting in on this meeting as well? Lewis could only sing your praises after you left,” he asks. You struggle to keep your face neutral as James’ searing gaze washes over you. You know Manager Kim’s ears must be red as her secretive meeting is foiled by her best client.

“Actually, I was just -”

“- going to bring the file for the event as you were previously suggesting. Right, Y/N?” Manager Kim says as she turns to you with a stiff smile. “You are our chosen intern, afterall.” You can barely contain your gasp as she says the words. You had gotten the contract?! James does not try to hide his shock at her statement as his eyes widen and his mouth nearly falls open.

“It’ll be a pleasure working with you again, Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Carlisle says with a smile.

“Of course,” you reply with a deep head nod. “I look forward to working with you both as well. I’ll be back with your file shortly.”

“Thank you, Y/N. And thank you James for going to get them. You may leave now,” Manager Kim adds as she turns her attention back to her guests, inviting them to sit and make themselves comfortable.

You walk calmly, though you feel anything but that, across the room as James holds the door open for you. Pleading with the gods to be on your side, you race ahead of him to the breakroom for fresh, new bottles of water - a sight to see in a knee length pencil skirt and the infamous 4-inch stilettos that are apparently still required in this day and age. Your office is filled with hushed whispers until you round the corner and enter the small room.

“You got the Cavallero project?!” Paul exclaims. “Holy shit! You’re better than I thought, Y/N!” You laugh as you search your desk for the copy of the previous plans you’d developed from that day’s secret meeting.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Laura cheers, bouncing up and down. “Your first real major project. Isn’t that exciting, James?”

“Sure. If you can be happy for someone who fucked her way to get the position,” he says biterrly. “Lewis could only sing your praises after you left?” James scoffs. “Sounds like you worked really hard in that meeting.”

“James!” Laura gasps.

“Oh it’s fine, Laura. If you think that James, I can’t stop you,” you say with a shrug. “But I’ll be happy to discuss my scandalous sex life with you after I meet with our coveted client.”

You prance out of the office with a smug smile on your face. Of course James would resort to a low blow because he didn’t get what he wanted; he was worse than the six-year-old child he had reprimanded you about. Tucking the fake file under your arm as the real one is still in Madeline’s office, you carry the bottles of water back to the meeting. After passing the bottles to your clients, you stand diligently behind Manager Kim with your notepad at the ready.

“Please Miss Y/L/N, take my seat,” Jonas says, standing.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“I insist. I do my best thinking standing up.”

“He does this often in his office,” Lewis agrees. Glancing at Manager Kim, you gingerly sit down on the end of the chair after thanking Jonas again.

“You had mentioned that you enjoyed the designs Y/N had developed, but as you know these are drafts and can be changed as you deem fit, Mr. Cavallero. Are there any things that come to mind or can we work on finalizing these details?” Madeline asks. You watch as Jonas strides around the office, seemingly in thought.

“You proposed hosting the event at one of the upscale hotels downtown, but I was wondering if you had any other options. We want the environment to feel lavish, but not over the top,” he replies. “I was actually thinking of something -” he pauses “ - more intimate.”

Writing down his wishes, you rack your brain for places that fit his description. Most clients of his caliber wanted something extravagant, but Jonas was proving to be a very different man. Quite the surprise that you were not expecting. “Would you like something with more modern architecture or classical?” you ask.

“I have always been a fan of French architecture; the European style also seems to be popular among our own clients. Most of them come from European backgrounds,” Jonas answers.

“They might find the interior design reminiscent,” Madeline thinks aloud and jots it down.

“It could be very good for signing contracts, sir,” Lewis adds.

“I may have a suggestion. Chateau’s is a little outside of the city, but the view is magnificent. It’s family owned so that may benefit you with your clients as well. It also has a rooftop that would look great in the afternoon sun as well as the late evening should the event last longer than expected,” you suggest. “I’ve also read great reviews saying that the food is well prepared too.”

“This could lower your costs for your first event and more money can be reserved for the benefit gala you’re also organizing,” Madeline sneaks in. She’s right, of course. A benefit gala planned by Madeline Kim would require much more than what Mr. Cavallero had said he was okay with spending, but he didn’t need to know that right now.

“Hmm,” he ponders turning around. “This sounds doable. I’d like to see what you can come up with for designs for this new place as well as scheduling a visit to see it for myself. All of this can be done before the initial deadline of securing a venue, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Madeline responds and you keep your composure as you review your mental calendar of events knowing this would be difficult to pull off. Brunch is scheduled a month and a half from today’s date meaning you had to somehow convince Chateau’s to take on your client, create an acceptable menu, and allow you to make any decorating changes within two weeks to make the deadline. Madeline is batshit crazy, but it would have to get done to secure the benefit gala - the whole reason for the company even accepting this contract.

“I can have all the details typed and sent to you within the next week. I’ll also keep the downtown hotel as an option if Chateau's is unavailable for your intended date. I’m sure we can use the rooftop of a hotel to create an intimate setting that your guests would enjoy,” you add. “I would also like to request the location of the benefit gala. I understand this is a very important event for your law firm and I would like to begin drafting plans for your approval at the earliest convenience.”

“Yes, of course. We use the Finca Corte as they have the best grand ballroom in the city. Lewis, please send Miss Y/L/N the past itineraries of the event so she may have a better understanding of the atmosphere we wish to create for our guests.” Lewis nods and makes his own notes, before his wrist watch alarms.

“Ah, Mr. Cavallero. Your 4pm meeting is on time this afternoon. We should leave now so you aren’t late,” Lewis warns. Jonas nods and you all stood to say your goodbyes.

“Please, if you need anything, reach out to Lewis and he’ll get in contact with me so I can answer any of your questions,” Jonas says with a smile as he shakes your hands.

“Of course, Mr. Cavallero. Please feel free to do the same,” Madeline replies though you can hear the tightness in her voice and for the third time, you wonder what her relationship is with Jonas. They had to have had some history for her to always seem on edge in his presence.

“Let me walk you both downstairs,” you offer. J&M isn’t as large as Hastings and Lewis, but there are many twists and turns on each floor that guests could get lost in.

You don’t turn your head as you pass your tiny office space and head for the elevator. You wouldn’t give any of those fuckers your attention in the presence of high quality clientele. It’s cramped inside but not uncomfortable as you ride down from the fourth floor. Jonas turns to you once again as you stand in the lobby.

“Again Miss Y/L/N, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Lewis would be happy to answer any of your questions if you can’t get in contact with me,” he says and hands you his business card.

“I actually did have one question before you go. Well two actually. Finca Corte - it isn’t a chain, is it? Just one location?”

“Right. On 17th and Main near the Grande Theatre, but the next block over,” Jonas replies.

“And there’s no need to call and reserve the date? The notes Lewis had given us hadn’t mentioned anything about the date or a deposit,” you state.

“No, the firm takes care of those details. The benefit gala is always reserved for the third Saturday in May every year,” Lewis responds. Three months from now, you think.

“Oh, wonderful. I know you have to get going so I’ll email you any other questions, Lewis. Thank you again. Please return to the firm safely,” you say cheerly and wave. They return it and you wait for them to get into their sleek town car before you let your face fall into a frown. You’d never been to or heard of Finca Corte before, but why did the location seem so familiar? You try not to dwell on it too much as you head back upstairs. There are more pressing matters at hand, like putting James back into the roach-infested place he’d crawled out of. You grin as you head off the elevator.

Rosalia greets you as you enter the old two-bedroom apartment you share. Slipping off your heels that you’re sure has blood crusted into the toes from excessive wear, you scratch behind her ears as she purrs. She’s one of the better things to happen to you in your life and you’re grateful for her little pieces of affection even though you’re positive she had made some attempts to smother you in your sleep so she could have your bed.

“You’re home?” Amaya calls out from her hidden position on the couch.

“Yeah! Did you make dinner?” you ask as you follow your nose to the kitchen where a large pot stews on the stove.

“Of course I did. We all know you’d starve if I didn’t cook,” she says as she bumps you out of the way to check on the food. You mock her as you sit down at the antique metal table that you rarely ate at, choosing to have your meals in the much more comfortable living room on the sofa.

“I could survive!” you yell, trying to defend yourself, but Amaya isn’t having it.

“You couldn’t. Was the lasagna okay today, though?” she asks, changing the subject.

“The best. You should really consider opening a restaurant and forgetting all this computer engineer stuff,” you tell her seriously.

“Ha! As if that would pay off these loans. Either way, this is an investment. Once I’m done with this degree, I’ll be able to program computers to make these dishes for me and rake in a ton of money to get us out of this place,” she says with determination.

Amaya is a third year computer engineering student at Oberman University. Surprisingly smaller than you, she carries as much kick as you do, the two of you getting into numerous instances of mild misdemeanors. Amaya had actually hacked a few systems after she had found out that you weren’t really registered for classes at the University so you could get some credit; she’s a computer genius. Thanks to her, you technically have an Associates degree, but of course Oberman would never grant it to you unless you actually re-enroll. Amaya doesn’t take anyone’s shit though she looks like she’s 12 with her big green eyes and short blunt bob, the bangs a little too long and falling into her eyes.

“Thank you for including me in your plans for world domination, Aya,” you say while taking your hair out of your bun.

“Of course. You know you’re family to me, even though you leave your fucking dishes in the sink,” she replies while placing a piping bowl of beef stew and white rice in front of you. You thank the gods for her as you tuck in, burning your tongue in the process.

“I love you. So, so, so much.”

“Are you talking to me or the stew?” she asks with a laugh as she blows her food to cool it down. You laugh in response. “How was work? Oh my gosh, did you get the project?!”

You grin and nod. “I did!” She squeals in delight and claps her hands. “Though James was extremely displeased. He actually called me incompetent -”

“Hold on. He called you incompetent? Has he seen his progress report? And wasn’t he the one that forgot to submit his file that made that whole project you did a few months ago late?”

“Right. He was so shocked when Madeline announced it was me, even insinuated that I fucked my way to get the position. Kim was heated that Jonas mentioned our meeting while he was in the room though because it was supposed to be a secret,” you explain.

“Of course he would say something like that.” She rolls her eyes. “There seem to be a lot of secrets happening around you. Speaking of which, when do you head back to Spiral to snoop?” Amaya asks. “Do you think you can find anything in the hallway? Maybe you should break into Suga’s office or something,” she suggests.

“Friday night and I don’t think Suga would leave anything lying around like that for me to see again, not after I’m pretty sure he caught me reading his papers a few weeks ago,” you reply, pushing the rice around the plate. That had been extremely careless and might have killed a lead to your mini investigation before it had even begun.

“The one with all that information right? Gosh, I wish you had my photographic brain, that way you could have written down what you had seen and we could solve this whole mystery,” she groans.

“Oh no, Aya. I don’t want you getting involved with this. It seems way too dangerous and you -”

“- have my whole life ahead of me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But I want to know where this guy went. Like what if he’s still out there and looking for you?” she questions.

“I know, I know. I don’t want you worrying about it though. I can handle it,” you promise. “I feel like I’ve seen the address before though, but I can’t figure out where.” You rub your forehead as if you could magically make the numbers appear in your mind again. Aya’s photographic memory really would have come in handy.

“What about the date?” Amaya asks. “Or the name? You said the name was weird, unusual.” You nod. What had it said?

“There was a date, a location, and a name with an amount of money. Like a contract or something,” you sigh. “It looked really similar to the ones we have at work. Fuck. I don’t know. Between this and planning the benefit gala, my brain feels like it’s going to explode.” Amaya laughs as she finishes her dinner.

“Please don’t hurt yourself. It’ll come to you,” she says, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I have Calc 3 homework to finish and these theorems won’t do themselves so I’ll see you in the morning. Wash your fucking plate,” she finishes and pointes her finger at you. You hold up your hands in surrender as she leaves hers in the sink for you to clean. It’s the least you can do as she made all your meals.

Grabbing your purse and lugging it behind you after washing the dishes, you head to your room, Rosalia following in tow. Surprisingly, your bed is still intact which means that Amaya had made sure Rosalia hadn’t gotten into your room. Bless her. Not that there was much to get into as you the minimum possessions a person could have: a bed, a few photos, and enough clothes to last you a few weeks without doing laundry. You place your files and notepads onto your bed, eager to go and take a shower before organizing your notes in preparation for the debrief you would no doubt have to give to the rest of your colleagues tomorrow.

“Was your day as long as mine, Rosalia?” You scratch her head as she hops up on your bed and makes herself at home between your papers, a few of them scattering to the floor. “Apparently not as you want to make mine even longer,” you murmur as you bend to pick up the loose sheets of today’s meeting notes from the Cavallero project. You pause.

Jonas. That was the name that was on top of the paper in Suga’s office. What would be the odds that the Jonas on the paper would be the Jonas Cavallero you were working for? If that Jonas was the same Jonas, then was the location on the paper one of the events you were working on? How would Suga have that information? You sit against the side of your bed. Unless -

Yanking your phone out your purse’s side pocket, you google “Hastings & Lewis benefit gala”. Just as you’d suspected, the information is public knowledge: the third Saturday of May at the Finca Corte. There is no way in hell that Spiral is catering that event; they weren’t ritzy enough to be hired by the likes of one of the most expensive hotels in the city for one of the biggest events on the city’s calendar. Something is going on and you just know all of this is connected somehow. You just need proof. Maybe Maya is right. You’d broken into a few places before. How hard could it be to get into Suga’s office?

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[taxicabinmemphis]

16. “Have you eaten?” + 20. “I miss you.” from Logan to Virgil after Virgil is hiding in his room avoiding everyone (this is right after he traveled he used to be a dark side) (it can be romantic or platonic I'm fine either way)

hnnnnnnng i love the left brain gays thank you. could be taken as platonic or pre-romantic.

(tw food mention)

Logan took a deep breath and knocked on Virgil’s door. He was nervous; despite recent events, his relationship with the anxious side was still unstable. Yes, he had treated Virgil with kindness during Accepting Anxiety but they weren’t officially friends or anything of the sort. However, Logan hadn’t seen the emo in days and he was getting worried.

“Virgil? Are you in there?” Logan called through the door.

He heard shuffling; Virgil was in the room, no doubt about it. He didn’t answer Logan, though.

“I haven’t seen you in days and I’ve come to check on you,” he stated, not wanting to make Virgil anxious over his intentions.

Despite this, Virgil didn’t reply.

“I know you’re in there. Will you let me in?”

He heard the shuffling again, this time getting closer to the door. The door opened a few inches to show one side of Virgil’s face.

“Can’t you all just leave me alone?”

Logan shook his head, indicating a negative. “No. I haven’t seen you in days, which makes me worried for both your physical and mental well-being.”

Virgil groaned. “I’m holed up in my room. So what? That can’t hurt me.”

“Will you just let me in, Virge?”

Virgil stared at Logan for a moment, contemplating, before letting him inside. He shut the door behind Logan.

“What do you need?”

“An absence from common areas can prove that you are indirectly harming yourself.” Logan pushed up his glasses. “Have you eaten?”

“I...no...”

“See what I mean? You need food.”

“It’s only been, like, three days.”

“I haven’t seen you in five.”

“I got some cereal at three one time,” Virgil filled him in.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Normally someone’s in the living room or kitchen at three.”

“Not at three in the morning,” Virgil grumbled.

Logan’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape. “Still, you need a proper amount of food each day. Three meals or six smaller portions, either works, but you need to eat. Perhaps you and I can-”

“I don’t want to leave,” Virgil admitted.

“Why not?”

“No one wants me around,” Virgil said, shrugging. “The dark sides don’t want me anymore and I don’t want them, I make Thomas miserable, Roman hates me-”

“Patton loves you,” Logan pointed out, withholding an ‘as do I’ so as not to alarm the anxious side with new or previously unconfirmed information.

“Yeah, he says he does. But he’s overbearing at times and doesn’t really understand that I used to be a dark side. He didn’t even like me at first! He just gives me love ‘cause he thinks I’m small and cute and need it. It can feel like he loves his idea of me more than he loves who I really am.”

Logan nodded in understanding. “I see how you might think that. However, I think it would be wrong of me to not emphasize that Patton really cares about you. I think I should remind you as well that he was the one who pointed out your ducking out. And while yes, he can be overbearing, he wants you around.”

Virgil sighed. “But even then. He just sees me as a harmless little puffball. The dark sides know what I’m like and they don’t like me anymore. Thomas is still weary around me, Roman still hates me-”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“And you...” Virgil looks at Logan, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“I care about you too, Virgil. You are necessary to Thomas functioning optimally, you are smarter than you will ever give yourself credit, and your ‘dark edginess’ is often refreshing in comparison to Roman and Patton’s combined sunshine.” Logan tried his best at a small smile. “While it was logical to make sure you were alright, I must admit I came here for more than that. I missed you, Virgil. Your presence...is comforting and grounding.”

Virgil was speechless. It was hard for him to believe someone could recognize his character for what it was and still find fondness for it. Yet, here Logan was, enlightening Virgil on just how his personality gave him happiness.

“Thank you, Logan,” Virgil said quietly, ducking his head to stare at his shoes.

Logan looked at him in admiration. “It’s no trouble. Would you like to go to the kitchen to get food?”

Virgil’s form tensed.

“Or, I could sink out to the kitchen, microwave two TV dinners and bring them back. We can eat and talk, or just eat and enjoy the other’s company.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil agreed shyly, body relaxing.

“Then I will return shortly,” Logan stated, sinking out.

[ahgaseforeternity]

Dangerous Woman—Lucas edition

Lucas Wong || Part 4

Here comes the heat! Enjoy! (warning: some naughty times are ahead, you have been forewarned!) 

As you pulled up to the venue, your heart started beating uncontrollably. It had taken you a bit longer than you thought to drive down here, so you were a few minutes late. You were sure Lucas wouldn’t mind, but still. 

Being late for anything was one of your biggest pet peeves. 

The line was longer than yesterday’s, and you dreaded having to stand out in the cold. It made it worse that it had started to snow. The flakes were beautiful though, against the glow of the night lights. It made having to stand out in the cold tolerable. Almost. 

You had only been standing outside for probably two minutes, but you were already shaking. The dress underneath your long trench coat was short and you could feel the chill sweep in and make your skin break out in goosebumps. You tried lifting the collar closer to your face, to help keep you warm, but it did nothing. 

Your body started jumping up and down. You tried thinking warm thoughts. Hot chocolate, scarfs, a nice cuddly blanket. You groaned inwardly. It was just making it worse. 

You were just about to lift your fingers to your mouth to warm them, when a hand slowly laced through them. You gasped, turning to see Lucas standing in a tan wool coat that looked completely beautiful on him. Beneath he wore a black turtle neck, and it was by far the best thing you had ever seen. Better than his suit from yesterday. 

He looked nice and warm. It made you want to wrap your arms around him and press your face to his chest. 

Lucas was busy checking you out as well. His eyes were on your high ponytail that you decided on last minute. You had regretted it immediately after stepping outside, but from the flash of hunger you could see in Lucas’s eyes, it quickly changed your mind. His eyes traveled down your coat which hid your dress within. 

He gripped your hand tightly, lifting it to his lips to press a light kiss. His eyes never left yours as his lips gently brushed over your cold skin. Even though your skin might be cold, your insides were definitely starting to warm up. “Hi.” It was all you could say. Lucas let out a breathy laugh. “Hi, are you cold?” He asked, lowering your hand but not letting it go. 

“A little,” you stated, showing your shivering legs. Lucas smiled at that. “Come on, let’s head inside.” He pulled you along the line of people who were staring at you openly now. Well, they mostly stared at Lucas, and you couldn’t blame them. He looked absolutely beautiful against the fallen snow. Even you couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

You stared at your hand clasped in his and couldn’t help but smile. It was something so small, but feeling Lucas’s oversized hand in yours, it felt wonderful. You hadn’t felt this lit in months. It felt right, being here with Lucas. Like this was exactly where you were supposed to be. 

As you followed him inside, he soon unfortunately dropped your hand. You felt them again though but on your shoulders as he offered to take off your coat. “Oh, thank you,” you said while sliding it down your arms. As you stepped out of the coat, you spun to face Lucas, who was still standing with your coat in his outstretched hands. You smiled wickedly as Lucas took in the dress you were wearing. 

It wasn’t anything exceptional, but it cut low, all the way to the center of your chest. It was a deep crimson hue that looked just like the velvet sofa’s that were scattered throughout the club. It tied off around your neck and you watched as Lucas’s eyes traveled up and down your whole body. 

“Are you going to keep standing there all night, or are you going to buy me a drink?” You smirked, stepping up to him. Your words roused him from whatever thoughts were going through his mind. Thoughts you definitely wanted to know, but didn’t ask. 

He lifted his lips in a smirk, dropping the coats off at the front desk. “Have these placed in the coat room,” You heard him utter to the man behind the desk. “Yes sir,” the man took your coats, turning away to listen to his boss’s orders. There was something about Lucas tonight that seemed more relaxed, and it wasn’t just his clothes. There was a softness in the corner of his eyes and as he turned to smile at you with those softened eyes and warm lips, it left you breathless. 

“Come on,” Lucas took your hand again, pulling you along as you followed him up those glass stairs. You could feel people looking at you, but you only had eyes for Lucas. You watched as how his muscled moved while he walked, the way his long legs looked in the gray pants he wore. They were the perfect fit on him and gosh--he was just so handsome it was unbelievable. 

You had to glance away from him to simply catch your breath if only for a moment. You could see that he took you passed the room you had been in yesterday, and you were now heading up another flight of stairs that were more narrow and darker. It opened up to a random lone door, that Lucas pulled a key out to open. 

Your heart was racing. Where was he taking you? Your question was answered instantly as he swung open the door to reveal what looked to be a small flat. The city lights twinkled on the far wall that was made entirely of windows. The snow had picked up more and it looked startlingly beautiful. 

You could see a small kitchen and a living room where a few books were scattered on a table. You felt your fingers want to reach for them and see what they were, but you refrained yourself. “Is this your apartment or something?” You asked. Lucas just smirked, “No, not my main one anyway. This is just for when I have to work late and don’t want to drive home. I figured it’d be more private for our date than having people around.” 

Private? Yes, it most definitely was that. You swallowed the nerves caught in your throat. Your eyes traveled over the room once more, drawn to the flickering candles that were lit on a dining table. There were two dishes steaming and filing the room with a delicious smell, and making your stomach rumble. 

“I hope your hungry, I made one of my specialties.” You turned your stunned face to meet Lucas’s. “You made me dinner?” Suddenly you weren’t so hungry anymore. Well, for food at least. He smiled, while pulling the chair out for you. You sat in it tentatively, while he sat across from you. His face looked dazzling in the candle light. The shadows playing perfectly with his full lips and warm eyes. 

You couldn’t look away. He was the first one to, lifting his knife and fork to start cutting into the meal he had made. Again, you felt your belly warm. You copied him, letting your eyes travel over what looked to be a filled meat with sautéed vegetables on the side. Your mouth watered as you brought it to your lips. 

“It’s a pork roulade. Hopefully you like it.” 

Like it? Your mouth was exploding with flavor. It was possibly the best thing you had ever eaten. “It’s delicious, Lucas. Thank you,” you said while cutting another bite. His smile brightened.

 “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble though.” 

“I wanted to, Y/N. Besides, I like to cook and I don’t get to do it often, so really I should be thanking you for giving me a reason to,” He tipped his glass that was filled with a red wine towards you before lifting it to his lips. 

Of course he liked to cook, where you were dreadful in the kitchen. You were the kind of person that burned the microwave popcorn without fail every time. It shouldn’t surprise you that Lucas could cook, but he managed to keep doing it. Keep surprising you. 

Something he said gripped your attention though. 

“Why don’t you get to cook all that often?” 

His eyes lifted to yours, losing their steady shine if only for a moment. “My life is very busy. Busier than I want it to be.” You bit your lip at that. His eyes zoned in on them, growing darker. You let it go at his stare. 

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t get to cook as often as you want. If I was so busy I didn’t have time to do something I loved I’d probably be super grumpy,” you said while bringing another mouthful to your lips. Lucas smiled at your words. “Do I seem grumpy?” His brow lifted. Those devilish brows. 

“No, not grumpy, but--lonely maybe.” 

There had been something about Lucas that night you met for the first time. You had seen something in his eyes that looked familiar. It was as if you were looking in your own eyes. Your own reflection. 

He softened at your words. “I understand, Lucas. I get it,” you huffed out. You weren’t trying to make things serious, but you felt for him. You wanted Lucas to know you knew how he felt. You knew what loneliness was like. You had been feeling it half your life. That’s why you read; to not feel so lonely. 

Lucas’s eyes grew serious and intent on you. The heaviness you could see made your cheeks flush, and you barely had time to do anything before Lucas pushed his chair back  reaching for your face. He lifted you so easily out of your chair, and brought your lips to his. 

You melted instantly, falling against his solid body. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling him tremble beneath your touch. Lucas made you feel invincible. He made you feel strong in his arms, as if you could conquer anything within his warm embrace. The electricity you could feel between you two, it was making you sigh into his mouth. 

Lucas answered your sigh with a groan of his own, pulling at your bottom lip again. “Y/N, you have no idea. No freaking clue how many times I’ve thought about that night on the dance floor,” you let out a breathy sigh at his words. His eyes were hazy and beautiful as they looked into yours. “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since.” 

Who said things like that? Not normal human’s that’s for sure. Lucas brought your hand to cover his chest where indeed his heart was beating uncontrollably. You could feel your own eyes grow heavy as you scanned his stunning face, tracing his lips with your own fingers. He closed his eyes against them. 

He kept his hands on your cheeks, while your body craved for them to roam. You leaned closer to him, brushing your lips against his but didn’t apply pressure. You teased him by pulling away just enough that he followed you. A slow smile played at his lips. “Remember when I asked you to dance with me that night?” Lucas could only nod his head at your question. 

You pressed your lips against his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses to his ear, then whispered, “dance with me, Lucas.” His hands moved then, bringing your body closer, pressing one of his hands on your hip, while the other brought your lips back to his. You could barely make out the music downstairs and the rhythm of it was filling your veins as Lucas kissed you harder and desperate. You bodies moved together like a dance, while you pressed Lucas back against a wall, breaking your sealed lips. 

You don’t know where your sudden confidence came from, but you let your hips sway for him, lifting your arms above your head. Lucas looked at you with a groan, pulling you close again with one of his consuming hands. He turned you around so you were facing away, and you couldn’t help the moan that released from your chest. 

You pressed firmly against his muscled legs and the feeling of his warm fingers pressed against your stomach was making you shiver. You kept swaying your body against him, and you smiled lazily as you heard him groan against your ear. 

“Y/N, what are you doing to me?” You sighed again, your head falling back against his shoulder. His sweet lips kissed you again, while one of his hands snaked up your dress. He was leaving a trail of fire in his wake, burning you in the best way. As his fingers drew closer to where your dress cut low, he let his fingers slip underneath the ties and touch your collar bones. 

Holy. 

His touch was incredible. You could feel your body shaking against his, while Lucas kissed you deeper, dancing his tongue with yours. You could feel the area between your legs start to warm and that feeling, that warmth fill your core. It had you trembling. You let your hands feel the length of Lucas’s muscled thighs and feel him growl against your mouth. That growl had you gripping one of his hands, bringing it closer to where your dressed stopped. 

You felt him stiffen behind you, gripping both your wrists in his fingers. He stopped you, keeping both your hands bound in his. You could feel his chest heaving against your back, while your own did the same. Your heart was still pounding, the beat of it vibrating throughout your whole body. 

You felt Lucas bring his lips close to brush against your ear. It made you shiver, and he felt it, nipping at your lobe. You breathed a sigh. “This isn’t dancing anymore, Y/N,” he whispered. 

“Of course it is, just a different kind of dance.” He smiled against your ear, giving you a low laugh that warmed your core again. 

“You’re right, but are you sure you want to do this?” You turned around in his arms, to see that he was serious. You knew that what you wanted Lucas to do to you—it went against every rule you ever placed with dates. You never slept with the guy on the first date. You just—didn’t want to, but you had never met someone who you wanted to sleep with on the first date. 

Not till now.

Technically, this wasn’t even your first date. You thought you didn’t know Lucas enough, but you did. Deep down you did, because he was just like you. That’s when you decided. You brought your lips to his again, this time in a slow tender kiss that had him melting against you.”

Yes, Lucas. I’m sure.” It was all he needed to hear for that bond to break. He swept you up in his arms, you wrapping your legs around his waist. He gripped your hips, sending jolts of fire throughout your stomach. You both kissed with the desperation you had both been feeling all night. The fiery passion that you both held in, till now. He was carrying you somewhere, and once you felt the soft feel of a cool comforter beneath you, you moaned in pure bliss. 

He smiled at your sound, bringing himself to knee above you. You watched as he lifted his turtle neck over his head to reveal his toned stomach. Holy. He really was beautiful. You reached your hand out to touch him and he sucked in a harsh breath. “Sorry, are my hands cold?” He laughed softly, “No, not cold.” His eyes met yours in the dim lighting and you shivered at the desire there. 

He slowly stood off the bed to lift each of your heeled feet. You watched as he grazed your skin their with his lips, leaving you trembling in his bed. You arched against his kiss on your ankle as he undid you heels, dropping them to the floor. 

“You looked amazing in these tonight. When I first saw you standing there outside with the snow. You looked beautiful, Y/N.” His words made you sigh, along with his touch that traced up your legs. 

“And when you revealed what you were wearing underneath your coat,” his fingers played at the hem of your dress, teasing the skin there, leaving you aching for me. “I couldn’t breathe, Y/N.” 

You couldn’t breathe now. His touch was making it hard to remember how. 

He slowly brought his lips back to yours, tangling your legs with his. You let your hands roam over his warm skin, feeling how his muscled move above you. He wasn’t real, this man before you. The way he made you feel--it was how you felt reading your books, but better. Because it was real. He was real. 

His hands traveled over your clothed body, sliding up your curves, making you moan into his mouth. You gripped his shoulders, pushing him so now you were above him instead. You straddled his hips while Lucas sat up, bringing his hands to touch the back of your neck. He tugged at the hair beneath you pony and you moaned again. 

“Lucas.” 

Everywhere he touched, he was leaving you scorched. His fingers messed with the ties of your dress, and you urged him to pull them apart by pressing your chest closer to his. He didn’t though, instead, he let his hands travel to your hips. You moaned again when you felt his fingers travel underneath your dress and touch your bare back. He groaned against your mouth, trailing his tongue on your lower lip. 

“Your perfect, Y/N” 

No, that was you Lucas. You let him think so though, just to keep his hands on your skin. He squeezed, pressing you closer to him. His lips left yours to travel down your neck, while one hand stayed underneath your dress, the other touching where you back was exposed. 

You arched into him, letting his lips and tongue travel to where your dress met your chest. You had to bite your lip against another moan. Lucas sucked at your skin there, using his tongue to slip underneath the dress and to your hard breast. 

You bite down another moan, but gripped his hair harder. “Don’t hold back with me, Y/N” Lucas mumbled against your skin. You let your moan fly then, as it filled the room. Lucas gripped you in his arms, flipping your around so you were now laying against the soft pillows once again. 

He kissed you only once, before his lips traveled down your body again. They went down, down, until you felt his fingers pull your dress up and the cool air made you gasp as Lucas kneeled above you again, with blatant desire flashing in his eyes. 

“Oh, Y/N” 

You sighed at the way he said your name. With the longing and passion you craved. He didn’t waste time sliding your underwear down your legs, then plunging his tongue to your core. You barely had time to think. All you could do was arch and grip the sheets. He teased you with his tongue and left you breathing heavy. “Lucas, please.” 

He smiled at your words, bringing his up your body, making you shiver as they slipped beneath your dress. Your arched again as his hands gripped your breasts. Gosh, his touch was perfect. 

You felt your breasts harden as he played with them, making your core warm more and more. You were so close, you could feel it. Lucas could too, by the way his tongue sucked you. You felt him groan against you, and that’s what sent you over. You were shaking from pure pleasure as your orgasm came crashing through you body. Lucas still kept himself there, his lips just as consuming as before. 

“I need you, Lucas. Please.” You begged, watching as he slowly stood up from you, looking at where he just had his tongue inside you. His eyes were so dark and hazy. You watched as he slipped his pants off along with his own underwear, crawling back to you. Lucas helped you untie the dress, and slowly pulled the dress away so you were both bare to each other. 

You were shaking with anticipation, and you gasped in surprise when he lifted you around so you were on top. “I want to watch you.” Oh, lord help you, this man was really trying to kill you. 

As he slipped inside you, you watched his scrunched eyebrows go smooth and it all but made you swirl with triumphant. His groans along with yours filled the room, the sound of your bodies together--it was becoming too much for you. You were going to lose it again. 

“Come with me, Y/N.” 

His words shattered you. You trembled against him while he did the same, slowly working your hips slow until you were both utterly exhausted and you fell against him. 

You were both breathing heavily, while the snowy night lit the room, casting it in a shimmering glow. You felt Lucas press a kiss to the top of your head. You nuzzled yourself into his neck, while his fingers traveled down your back in the best way. It was making you sleepy, and you snuggled closer to Lucas your eyes slowly fluttered close. 

[annakie]

A Lot of Words about a Thing

This is a “I’m writing this out so next time someone asks I can just point them to this (or copy/paste) instead of having to type it again” thing.

I’ve been doing Hello Fresh for the last two or three months and I thought I’d talk about the ups and downs of it and if I’m going to keep doing it.  This is not an endorsement (which will be clear when you get to the overall middling scoring), but I will put a link at the bottom so we can both get a deal if you want to try it.

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

So anyway, I had been thinking about doing a meal kit for a long time but pulled the trigger on it back in... like Mid-January, I guess? 

the tl;dr of it all is that I like it and I’ll probably keep doing it for awhile, but it’s not for everyone, and is expensive for what it is, especially if you already know how to cook.

Before I started, I made myself sit down and write out a quick list of what I wanted to get out of trying a meal kit experience, so I’ll rate how successful or not each one of those things is.

First of all, I want to also say, I can already cook.  I’m a pretty good cook.  I can follow a recipe and improvise successfully when necessary usually.  One reason why a lot of people do a meal kit is because they need to learn how to cook and that definitely wasn’t me.

Also, they offer a variety of number and portions on meals to try.  I get three meals a week, with two portions a meal, which means I cook Hello Fresh for dinner one night, and usually the next night have the leftovers.  Friday night is usually “Yay You Made It To The Weekend, You Get To Order Takeout” night.  You can order for several more meals a week, and for up to four portions in each meal, if you want.

So on to the reasons why I decided to try HF, with a grading of how I feel about each one after trying.

Reason One: Try Something New

I was super excited at the beginning of the pandemic now working from home full time, because this was a great chance to really start trying some new recipes.  I had fallen into a pretty bad rut for awhile of some of the same frozen type meals or just making super easy things for dinner and sandwiches for lunch pre-pandemic.  Even though my commute was stupid easy I often felt too wiped at the end of the day to make like, real meals.  So when the pandemic hit and I was Home All The Time, for the first couple of months I was buying interesting ingredients (what I could get my hands on at the time) and really digging into making new and interesting things.  Even baking my own bread and bought some new kitchen gadgets like a pressure cooker to expand my repertoire. 

By like... the end of summer... well the good news was that I was still cooking and hadn’t fallen back to a packaged-food routine most of the time (though still some frozen pizzas or bags of pre-made Asian or Italian food you cook on the stovetop mostly for lunch) but also I had more or less found The Ten Things I Make (like Spaghetti, a great chicken and rice dish that is so good and makes about 6 meals worth of leftovers) and I was real tired of like, recipe hunting.  The most work I was then doing was finding new pressure cooker recipes and tbh almost all of what I was making was Chicken In Some Kind of Sauce Over Rice.  I was burned out.

So Hello Fresh... has been great for that.  I have only made the same thing a couple of times and those were only because i loved them so much the first time I wanted that thing again.  For the most part, I have tried just a ton of new things, including some ingredients I’ve never worked with before or really thought I wouldn’t like!  And I did!  I feel like I am often trying something I have never made before.

Reason 1.5: Variety

OK this is hand-in-hand with Something New but also slightly different.

Try Something New would be rated like a 4.5 out of 5 stars.... but some stars are taken away though, because a lot of their recipes are very similar.  For a protein, there’s like, chicken breasts, hamburger meat, pork chops, chicken sausage and pork sausage.  Occasionally steak.  Basically every meal will start with one of those things.... oh and I guess there’s like some fish choices, but I hate fish.  There’s also vegetarian options, which I have only occasionally gotten.  So within the variety, there’s a lot of similarities.

Also there are a lot of same ingredients in their recipes.  I have grated a lot of lemons and limes.  I have chopped up a lot of carrots, green onions, and potatoes (so many potatoes.)  I have consumed more sour cream than I ever have.  I have started looking for ways to add even a little more variety to the things that are often-repeats that they give you.  

But part of that is my fault -- I am mostly selecting items that I know I will like, or can modify to how I like.  There are a lot of veggie and fish-based choices I could pick up most weeks which I avoid. 

And almost everything I’ve ever made... I’d make again.  I save all the recipe cards so that someday when I don’t wanna do HF anymore, I will have all them all handy to make later.  The HF Subreddit also has a lot of resources like how to do their custom spice mixes, very handy.   There’s been maybe 3 things I’ve made which I’d say were Just Okay, but nothing I’d say that was bad.   And some of the ideas in this paragraph I talk about more, further down.

But also on the topic of “Variety” -- since every meal I make has two portions (occasionally I will stretch something to three) -- points are given back because I’m not “Making a huge pot of spaghetti that I eat for five meals in a row.”  So that’s good, even if it means more cooking overall.

So honestly, on Something New overall, I’ll give this like a 3.5 out of 5 stars, correcting up to 4 stars on a curve, since I strike entire categories of their offerings based on my own tastes.  They offer a pretty good variety of meals to select, and part of the problem here is my fault for hating All Seafood and not being thrilled with the vegetarian options (I also don’t feel like I’m getting my money’s worth without a protein) so there are a lot of meals re-using similar ingredients.   It slides back down to a 3.5 though when you factor in Reasons 3 & 4 below.

Reason Two: Kill Analysis Paralysis

A thing I found increasingly happening by the end of last year was analysis paralysis.  Especially as I started a new job where I’m much, much busier (but happier) in October.  I would find myself staring at the fact that I’d have to make the decision on What To Make For Dinner and dreading it more and more.  It wasn’t really the cooking I hated, but the deciding what to cook, which got me into the lack of variety rut.  More often than I’d like to admit I’d just make a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese or like... just... toast... for dinner because the decision-making part of my brain was tired... or out of spoons as the kids say these days.

This is maybe my favorite part of Hello Fresh overall.  Once every week or two I log onto HF, pick what I’m going to eat like... 5 or 6 weeks in the future, which I can do at a time when I have that decision-making energy, and forget about it.  Every Monday a box shows up on my doorstep, I see what nice things I picked out for myself several weeks ago, and the most I have to decide is which order I will make those things in.

So when it’s a “Make Dinner” day, I don’t have that “shit, I have to make a decision” feeling.  I already know because I pre-planned it back when I wasn’t at the end of a long workday.  It’s one of those small, dumb things that really really helps me mentally in an almost inexplicable way.  And I can feel better about myself because I didn’t eat something dumb for dinner.  And I still allow myself to make easy things for lunch, like a small frozen pizza, a sandwich and some chips, or hey, Kraft Dinner.  And sometimes I do make a big pot of Spaghetti or something that I love and will just have that for lunch every day for a week, and so I don’t have to feel like I’m always cooking.

And on Eat HF Leftovers For Dinner nights, that’s even better, because I have a tasty meal and it just had to get reheated in the microwave or stovetop.  Some meals are easy to half-prepare ahead of time on day one, and just do the last steps on leftover night the next night to have fresher dinner easily.

 Just 5 out of 5 stars here.  This is my favorite part.

Reason Three: Eat More Vegetables.

Uh, yeah, I’m terrible about eating veggies on my own.  The best I can do usually is buy a bag of mixed greens and try to have a side salad with dinner, or buy bags of frozen foods and hope they come with veggies I’d eat. 

So the good thing here, is that when HF sends me vegetables to make, if it’s a veggie I like, I’ll probably make it.

The big problem, though, is that there’s no substitutions.  And I’m still not gonna eat brussell sprouts or, broccoli, or mushrooms. I was a sport and tried making them (except the mushrooms) the first time I got recipes that used them as sides.  And nope... still cant.

But hey, I have done a lot better at eating more fresh green beans, and onions, and carrots, and peppers.  Though sometimes I just snack on the bell pepper instead of cooking it. Still, I call it a win.

I really, really wish I could trade out the side-dish vegetables I know I won’t eat for like, a small side salad, an apple, or hey, even just... carrots!  But nope, no substitutions. =\  I’d score this way better if we could do so.

Still, I’m doing better here, and overall, more vegetables are being eaten.  So, 3 out of 5 stars.

Reason Four: Waste Less Food

The amount of fruit and vegetables I’ve ordered and thrown away over the last year make me cringe.  I would order things with every intention of eating them and then just... not.  Oh yeah I need two lemons, an orange and two limes in case I make ____ recipe!  I need a new bag of baby carrots to snack on and make a side dish and cut into a salad! 

And then I maybe... maybe use half of that before it goes bad.

Probably less.  Because of the Analysis Paralysis and not trying new things.  You run into that problem where you don’t have the ingredients on hand to make a new thing so you can’t make a new thing... but then you buy them but forgot (crucial thing) so the thing still doesn’t get made.  Or you just... don’t plan when you’re gonna make the thing and by the time I’d be like “Oh yeah I should make something with those vegetables” they’d have already turned.

SO... I felt shitty throwing away so much produce, and loaves of bread, and other perishable food that got maybe half-eaten.  So much, for so long.  Yeah, I know I could do better with my meal planning, but it’s been one of those things I always vow to do, and then did not do that thing.

Doing HF has really made me re-evaluate what I buy as groceries, and I have cut way down on ordering unnecessary produce and perishables like bread.  Because I don’t really have to worry about dinner and am allowing myself to do easy lunches that don’t require real “cooking.”  So, overall I am definitely buying and tossing less food.

Also just as another quick note -- what also tends to get tossed out of my HF boxes is a “spicy ingredient”  But in some ways, this works in HF’s favor.  I don’t really like spicy foods.  A small amount of spice is OK but I’d rather just do without it in most things, sorry I’m that white girl.  Most “Spicy” HF meals get spicy by a spice blend, a packet of sriracha / hot sauce, or a jalapeno which they want you to cut up and include.  So whenever I see something that looks good but listed as “spicy”, I can check the ingredient list first and see what makes it spicy, If I think the thing still sounds good without the spicy part, I can order it.  So yeah, I’ll toss spicy ingredients, but that is 100% my choice and it makes things better because it gives me more variety to order those meals and still make it to my own taste.

Oh, and occasionally, the produce is just bad when you get it or not long after.  I haven’t had this problem often, mostly with ginger and garlic.  I do evaluate which meal has the most perishables when I get my box on Mondays and make those first.  Apparently you can call customer service if this happens for a small credit, but I just use pre-diced garlic or powdered ginger when this has happened to me.

So, this would be a 4.5 out of 5 except for... as discussed above... I end up tossing out HF vegetables on occasion I know I hate and won’t eat, and they won’t let me make substitutions. 

But also... cooking for myself... when I make a big batch of something that lasts 4 - 6 portions... more often than I’d like to admit, the last portion or two would never get eaten.  Sometimes I’d TELL myself I’d eat them in a week or so and freeze them only to throw it all away months later.

So let’s call this a 4 out of 5.  Overall, significantly less food waste with HF.

Reason Five: Save Time

I thought that doing HF would mean less prep-work and less time in the kitchen, especially with their easy-to-follow recipes and pre-measured ingredients.

So in that way, yes, time is saved, and it so again takes that mental load off in a lot of ways of not having to make all those pesky decisions.  The materials you’re working with and what you need to do are all Right There for you.  It’s really, nice.

As a side note, like I said I’m a good cook, and I haven’t had any problems following along anything I’ve made, but there were a few things I think are more of a moderate skill level and could be a little challenging for newcomers.  But then, I see people on the HF subreddit all the time saying they learned to cook with no skill and they find the recipes easy so... we’re good there.

However, Saving Time loses points for two big reasons:

First, I’m only making two portions of each meal.  Which, ok... this is my decision.  I could order four portions per meal.  But then... hey that’s taking big points away on the “variety” front. 

The Vegetable Chopping / prep work on a lot of the recipes often takes 10 - 20 minutes, depending on the number of fruits and veggies.  So yay for meeting Goal #3 (more veggies) even if it is balanced out by Goal #5.

And unfortunately, most meals end up taking up more dishes than I’d like to clean up (usually at least a pan and baking sheet, sometimes also a pot.  Plus knife, cutting board, tongs, stirring spoon, maybe a zester, etc.)  So no time is saved on cleanup, either.

Mostly where time is saved is having to pick out recipes and making sure you have/buy all the ingredients.  Not much is saved in the actual cooking.

I do, however, enjoy the time I spent cooking and the knowledge that I’m gonna make something good, so we’ll give it a bit back, there.

As a time saver, I’d give HF a 2.5 out of 5 stars.

Reason Six: Save Money

Y’all, Hello Fresh is expensive.  Honestly the #1 reason I re-evaluate whether I want to keep going with it every few weeks is the cost.  Even though I can afford it.

For basically six meals a week, I’m paying $63 for the food, plus $9 for the shipping.

Which means I’m paying $12 a meal.  For food I make myself.

Not cheap.  A luxury.

Where I don’t feel quite so bad about it is the fact that... for the most part, I am wasting a lot less food.  Except, as mentioned, when I can’t swap out vegetables I hate for something I’d actually eat.

So that makes it irk me even more when I am throwing out vegetables I really hate, because they’re expensive vegetables.

Also that price tag is motivation to make and eat every meal.

Overall, my grocery bills have gone down... honestly pretty significantly.  Because I’m not overbuying food!  Now, they haven’t gone down enough to even out the cost for Hello Fresh... I’m still probably spending about 50% more overall for each dinner now than I was before.

This isn’t a cost savings.  It’s an expense, but one I can afford.  And part of writing out this post is to remind myself to decide when the experience is no longer worth the expense.

1 out of 5 stars.

Reason Seven: Eat Better

I would like to challenge myself to define “Better” because that’s all I wrote down when I made the list.

Healthier?  Eeeehhhhhh.... maybe?  But not much.

Hello Fresh does offer lighter choices, and sometimes I pick those because they look good and are filled with things I will eat!

But I’m just as likely to pick the most calor-ific things on the menu.

HF also adds a lot of Sour Cream to their recipes, and encourage you to salt and butter your food liberally.  I try to cut down on some of this where I think it’s too much.  But sometimes there’s not much to cut out and still have the meal you ordered.

But also I’m not eating any worse calorie-wise than I was before, probably.  And overall I’m eating a lot more “real food” instead of “packaged food” and fast food than I was.... especially pre-pandemic.  And again, I AM eating a lot more vegetables, so.... that’s... better?

If I define better as Tastier, yeah, I’m doing pretty good in that regard, haha. 

So Better as in healthier: 2.5 of 5 stars.

Better as in tastier: 4 out of 5 stars.

Overall Scoring & Tips

Okay, overall that comes out to a 3.18 out of 5, which I’d round up to a 3.5... which is a pretty good score for how I feel about HF overall.  My current plan is to keep doing it until I go back to working in the office again, and re-evaluate.  For now, it works for me.

IF YOU WANT TO TRY IT, this is my referral link, you’ll get $70 off over a month’s worth of meals (so like, $20 or something off 3 boxes and $10 off the last one, something like that. 

I also have four “Free box” codes to give out, PM me if you want one of those.  I don’t think those are compatible with the $70 off link, but it might be a box of completely free food for you?  I don’t know how it works, but this may be the better deal?  PM me.

If you decide to go for it, here’s a few tips:

Every week or two, go in and choose your meals, don’t let HF choose for you unless you really don’t care.

Read the ingredient list and make sure there’s not too much stuff you don’t like coming in a meal.

The extras are pretty expensive and not really worth it.

Plan on each meal taking about 45 minutes to cook from start to finish including chopping vegetables.  Another 10 - 20 with cleanup depending if you have to handwash dishes or not.

Look for ways to make the meal healthier, especially if it encourages you to add more butter and salt near the end.  You probably do NOT need to do so.

Buy a decent pepper.  I love McCormick’s Peppercorn Medley pepper grinder.  Also sea salt grinder is my personal salt preference.

Add some of your own seasonings.  I buy a jar of pre-diced garlic (yes yes I know the criticisms of the stuff but it’s easy) and throw in a half tablespoon or so of that into a lot of recipes.  Also there are a lot of potatoes that they want you to just cook with olive oil, salt and pepper.  Throw some garlic or onion salt on them, or some Lawry’s Seasoning Salt or steak salt of your choice for some variety.

Your basic 2 quart pot, 8 - 12″ frying pan and cookie sheet, plus a cutting board, decent veggie knife, and typical kitchen utensil set are all you need.  However, a decent meat thermometer and a zester that collects the zest as you go are both highly recommended. 

A sieve and very small rice cooker have also been a lifesaver for making good rice that doesn’t get overcooked.

[joe-young-stories]

A Week.

Hey, new to tumblr. This is something I wrote in an enclosed, dodgy Christian community in 2018.

The last time I saw Dad in person I was seventeen, and I’d either just finished my A-levels or I was halfway through them. I’d seen him a year before, for Grandad’s funeral. After we’d got home from the wake I’d nicked a crate of Guinness, and thrown up on my suit. I’d thrown up all over the guest bed as well, and I’d left all the empty cans in the waste paper basket. I told my dad that the emotional stress of the funeral must have affected me, and I didn’t really give a shit about the fact that he knew.

This time it was summer, and it was that one week of the British summer that is actually scorching hot. Dad was waiting for me at Oxford train station for my visit. Visa Skank was there too. Visa Skank is my dad’s Russian wife, and perhaps she married him for a visa or perhaps she really loves him. I’ve never actually had anything against her. It was rude, offensive, calling her Visa Skank, but it made me feel really savage and clever back then.  This day at Oxford train station she was in her late forties, and she was wearing this shimmer- shimmer peach linen halter top harem pants combo thing with a dainty cream pashmina and a big floppy straw hat. She was basically just easy mockery.

We went straight from the station to this ultra quaint Riverside pub/restaurant garden. I had Peronis. I had a burger too. We didn’t really have a conversation because Visa had seen a picturesque riverside photo opportunity, and she had my dad take pictures of her next to a drainage sluice for almost an hour, at different angles and filter settings. At the end we walked back through the pub to get to the car and she started draping herself mystically around rustic beams and cosy fireplaces, or sat herself next to like, napkin dispensers that pleased her. And my dad took more pictures. I just wanted to get back to the house. I don’t remember too much more from the meal.

In the daytimes that followed I fell into a routine. Dad would wake up late (his teaching job at the schools wasn’t on) and he might mooch about or he might go into Oxford, or he might just go to Headington High Street. Visa Skank had a busy social schedule attending a young mum’s social club in the Florence Park Cafe. She would spend a lot of time there. I would wake up and take a walk into Central Oxford. And I would stop for a pint in the White Horse, where we used to go for Lunch when I was little. In town I would walk the old streets around the Radcliffe Camera, and this was back when I had academic ambition before I stopped caring about most things, and the scholarly atmosphere excited me. I walked past the cathedral boys’ school – my first school—and into the Eagle and Child, or the Kings Arms, or the Turf Tavern. I would read Franz Kafka stories or Iris Murdoch novels or I’d listen to pretentious students talk shit and praise myself for being more intelligent than them. After a few pints I’d saunter back over Magdelen Bridge and back up towards the house in Headington.

Dad’s house had changed a lot over the years. The retro porn PC used to be in the dining room, and all my 9 year old self used to do at my dad’s was either play SimCity on that computer or watch Dad’s porn. He’d archived literally thousands of pictures, all categorised according to hair/boobs/race etc. Albums of particular stars. I got up early at that age, and if you were proper stealth about it could get up with the dawn and watch a four second clip of a woman getting pleasured by a mechanised shoe buffer. Only if you were stealth though. The computer screen could be seen from the stairs via the dining room mirror. You had to listen for footsteps. God forbid that Visa or even Grandad would walk in. View me wanking it to Dad’s shoe buffer porn.

Now though the house layout was different. Grandad had been a cantankerous twat since Nan died, and all he ever did was sit in the living room watching cartoons and chat shows. GMTV, Pokemon, Digimon, Homes under the Hammer. That was all I ever saw him do on visits to my dad’s.  I left him to it.

But he started losing control of his faculties, and Dad and I would walk in from the pub to a stray smell of nappies, the CBBC channel playing in the background. His osteoporosis got worse. The last time he was alive I was seventeen and he’d been moved to a hospice. He was half asleep next to his colostomy bag but he murmured a greeting and a goodbye. The three of us, Grandad, Dad and me, sat in near silence for approximately fifteen minutes. “Good to see you, Grandad,” I said to him as I was leaving. Grandad had written “to a very impressive grandson” on my birthday card seven months previously.

While Grandad was dying his house was being renovated. The dining room and kitchen had been knocked together into this rustique farmhouse experience, with a big beaten up pine table, a pine dresser and a freshly installed aga. An aga in a nineteen thirties semi. There were a lot of wholesome wicker baskets bought in and gooseberry jam jars were placed in them for effect. Next door the garage was knocked down and a den/conservatory/stargazing lounge/music studio was built. The living room, where Grandad watched all the kids TV, and which I was told was always going to be “His Space” had had all the carpets ripped out and new sofas put in. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered every wall, and they were all full of this intelligentsia Russian shit no one read. The retro porn PC was upstairs in Dad’s bedroom now, so after I got back from Oxford that last week I’d sit in the conservatory on my laptop. Sometimes if my dad was around I’d bring up an attractive female friend’s Facebook profile and wait for him to ask me about it. He’d talk about organic food and hand picking your own raspberries, and how Russian customs and traditions were the best way to live. But most of those afternoons he was upstairs in his bedroom checking his email, which took about two hours and was a pretty full-on activity for him. If Visa was at home she’d make still life displays from Kitsch crap she found in charity shops. And she’d do photoshoots. Most of the time she was out though. Presumably with the young mums.

When I was downstairs on my own I would drink from the many, many bottles available on the farmhouse shelf. I never drank in front of Dad, but I’d never bother hiding how drunk I was getting either. A little bit of gin, little bit of vodka, whiskey, white rum.

I’d always done this. When I was about twelve, thirteen, fourteen I’d go through Dads bedroom and raid his wardrobe. I’d find his extensive magazine stash and his books on “Tantric Passion”, “The Multi Orgasmic Man”, “Make Her see you Mean Commitment”. I’d find the hamper full of Bombay Sapphire bottles; I never questioned the water bottles full of urine next to his bed. I wasn’t subtle. I’d try and incite his scorn, his discipline, his parental authority. I’d find glow in the dark condoms in his bedside drawers, and I’d take them out of the packets and leave them under his pillow like a treasure hunt. I would neck a bottle of chardonnay, refill it with tap water and leave it in the fridge for him to find. He’d look at the bottle, look at me, deliberate and stammer “I must have rinsed it out for recycling and put it back on autopilot.” I don’t think he knew me well enough to confront me. He once drove me back to mums with me throwing up ass the way down the M40, and we both agreed that I must have eaten some “ropey” quiche.

I didn’t want Dad to parent me anymore; I just didn’t really care. So while Dad was upstairs checking his email I’d access the WiFi and watch naked men beat each other, and I’d masturbate and drink gin. I think on the Tuesday of that week he found me full-on passed out in the stargazing conservatory, sleeping it off. Later on he’d said something about travelling being exhausting, especially across London, and it always took a few days for the mind to properly relax on holiday. I agreed.

In the evenings we’d go out to a pub, the Vicky Arms or The Chestnut or something. I would tell Dad what A levels I was doing. I’d namedrop attractive female friends quite a lot, and talk about parties I went to with them. I’d wait for him to be like, “Are they pretty?”, “Are they into you?”, “Like yeah, get in, my son!”, “Well done, boyo!” and things like that. Visa would come with us. She’d sit there in peach tracksuit bottoms and some kind of burgundy flamenco/matador top, and she would say things like, “Never microwave food because it changes the molecules. Did you know this? We go through a recipe book and you will find meals you would like to try.” We might order popcorn from behind the bar. Visa might demand a photo shoot of her next to an inspiring sunset or whatever.

At home Dad and Visa would go to bed in Grandads old room. Nans room, now the guest bedroom, was being fitted with a “Roman balcony” so I slept on a blow up bed in the living room with all the Russian volumes. I’d drink more whiskey and watch a comedy show about teenage lesbians.

That was it, really. The last week I saw my dad was fairly uneventful. Mundane. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was the last time I saw him I doubt I would have remembered it

Only two events stand out in particular. On the Thursday of that week Dad was playing at a jazz and tango concert at a bar/club in Wantage. He did concerts like that to keep money coming in when the schools weren’t on. Visa took tango lessons down at the community centre, and she’d met a new friend and tango partner called Allan. He had had a stroke and divorce in a five year period and had taken early retirement, so I was told. So I was briefed. Briefed why? I didn’t care.

Allan met us at the house. We all sat about having a back garden beer and then Dad and I set off for Wantage. Allan’s and Visa came later, in Allan’s car, which he could still drive all post stroked up apparently. We had another pint in a pub in Wantage. Dad introduced me to the concept of a “Session Beer”. Advice I have never followed.

Dad gave me money for the evening and then left me to my own devices. I sat on the balcony and drank a lot of Stella, and from my vantage point I could see Dad playing onstage. I could see Visa and Allan as well, and she had her head on his shoulder and he was holding her close around the lower back. This didn’t look particularly tango-ey, but Visa had told me on one pub evening that tango was more about feeling than steps. “Feeling. Yes?” she had said with gusto. This was the passion of the dance I was watching, then. Dad had told me in the car that tango was Allan’s hobby, it’s what got him out the house, like his physio. I looked at Dad, and he was playing some sassy chords on the piano, watching the two of them become one with the dance. He didn’t do anything else. He just sat there, watching them get on with it. I finished one of my Stellas, and later on I thought to myself that he looked like a drooping bunch of flowers in a vase, half dead. A bit sad, maybe. A bit lacking. I was quite proud of myself for thinking of that. It felt very grown up.

Two days later we were having a back garden beer, Dad and I. The garden had changed, and where a swingset once stood there was now a very wholesome vegetable plot. Beyond that was a washing line. It was one of those washing lines with one pole in the ground, and it folded out like an upside down pyramid. You could spin it around for ease of pegging/unpegging. I looked at the washing line and remembered my eight year old self playing by it. I had been playing with a football. I was staying with him for a few weeks or so over the summer. I was out there, by myself, with the football. But I liked to pretend I was playing with all the other children I knew from school. Kids who were actually busy with their own friendship groups or who called me poofty boy by the wildlife pond. But when I was playing with them by myself they were all like, “I did not see this coming! We have not appreciated your serious skills! Hey guys, check out this Baller!” and none of them called me a poofty boy by the wildlife pond.  

I had devised a game where you had to throw the ball into the opened up washing line to score a point. Dad came outside just as I was about to land the sickest shot from ten feet away, the shot which was going to blow George and his gang away, and was going to make Sadia and Carrie-Ann think I was total boyfriend material. He asked me if I wanted anything to eat.

And I really don’t know what came over me, but I said something along the lines of “I’m playing a game. We have to get the ball off each other and get it in the net. Do you want to play?”                          

“Oh, right!” was something like he said “Yes alright then, I will”. I’d never played a game with Dad before, and we were both a bit hesitant. Like, do we just…start, or what? I chucked the ball at the line and missed, and he grabbed it. We ran around the garden, playing the game. He scored a point. I scored a point.  At one point he wrestled me to the ground to get the ball off me, and then helped me up. I remember laughing and smiling, being out of breath. I was tense, too. How did things like this come to a logical end? Did, like, the session finish?  Was there a way for this to end without Dad having to just be really rude? Like: “I’m sorry Joe, but I need to stop doing this at this point and go back to my day. You are welcome to continue though.” How did it work? After approximately fifteen minutes it mercifully started raining, and we went inside. It was the only time we ever played the game.

Sitting and having a beer with my dad that last week was the last time I looked at the garden, or indeed spent any time with him. Halfway through our drink Visa came out of the stargazing conservatory doors, and she was wearing a floor length lacy white gown, a white bonnet and silky white gloves. She was carrying a large wicker hamper, and she put the hamper down and pulled out a silver teapot. “I am English lady at tea,” she said, and she raised the teapot in the air. Then she laid the patio table for a country manor high tea, and started demanding a photoshoot. I went inside.

The next day I was due to go home. I woke up that morning to find that I’d drunk too much and pissed the blow up bed. I put my soggy boxers in a plastic bag, and I covered the damp sheet with my duvet and left it to fester.

I hardly spoke to dad after that week. There was no reason to most of the time. I rang him twice to ask for money, once to say merry Christmas can I have some money and once to tell him I’d just left rehab. In 2018 I had written to him to tell him he was a cunt and I wanted to burn his house down. “Past wounds” with my Father had become a significant part of my “Life Story” by that point, and I thought that sending such a horrible letter might activate a Life Event in some way, some dramatic finale.

Dad has always had his settings such that I can’t find him on Facebook, so I have to log in as my mum to see his profile. Him and Visa quote Oscar Wilde and Shakespeare sonnets on each other’s pages. Visa’s profile has about 64 photo albums. They’re all called things like “Casserole dishes on the patio”, “Beauty In Autumn”, “Sensuous mermaid has adventure”.  Her name isn’t actually Visa Skank. All the photo albums are silly and innocuous. When I’m drunk, or self pitying, or feeling like a victim, or all of the above I sometimes find myself thinking about the game me and Dad played with the washing line and the football.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you take lessons for anything? No.

Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? No, thankfully. 

If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? I haven’t worn any makeup for like 3 years now.

Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall? One does, the other has glass sliding doors.

If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other? I only have one pet.

Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? No.

Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer? “Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in?” and I said, “No.”

Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? There’s this delicious garlic parm popcorn seasoning one of my local theaters offers that’s really good. You can actually get it at the store, which I have.

Are you lonely? I feel lonely in what I’m going through right now. 

What’s your favorite magazine to read? I haven’t read a magazine in several years.

Do you like pineapple? No.

Have you ever seen fireflies? Yeah.

Have you ever trespassed? No.

Do you tell your parents where you are going? I don’t go anywhere now except for doctor appointments, which my mom takes me to, but back when I had a social life and friends and actually did stuff I always let my family know I was going to be hanging out. It didn’t matter that I was an adult, that’s how my family is with each other. We don’t give a play by play, but it’s just nice to let someone know.

Do you raise your hand or participate in class? Ugh, I hated the classes that required that as part of your grade. 

Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not? I used to. 

Have you ever purposely hurt an animal? No!

Would you ever see a therapist? Yes. I’m actually supposed to call Monday and finally set something up. 

Are you afraid of heights? Yes.

Are you afraid of the dark? I don’t want to be out and about at night and I have to sleep with my TV on for both light and sound.

Are you a jealous person? I can be. I haven’t felt jealous in quite a long time, though.

When is your birthday? July 28th.

What are you listening to right now? An ASMR video.

Have you ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing? Yes.

Are you still friends with someone from kindergarten? I just have Facebook “friends” that I’ve known since kindergarten.

What is the most important thing to you? My loved ones.

Do you like whipped cream? Yeah.

Are you close to your mother? Yes, she’s my best friend.

Are you close to your father? We don’t have the same kind of relationship my mom and I do, but we don’t have a bad one or anything. It’s just different.

Do you walk around bare foot when you're at home? Or do you wear socks? I always have socks on.

Do you like chocolate popsicles? I did as a kid. I haven’t had one in such a long time.

Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume? No.

Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Both would be an awesome experience.

Have you ever written a poem? I dabbled with it in my teens. It’s so cringe.

Would you ever be a tornado chaser? Uh, absolutely not. I’d be trying to get as far away as possible.

What is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff? I very rarely use BBQ sauce, but it’s good with chicken tenders.

Your parents tell you that this summer, you get to pick the vacation. Where do you plan to go? I wish I could have a relaxing beach getaway. In the perfect scenario we’d be able to rent a beach house and have our own private beach area where I could rent a canopy bed and lie out at the beach. That’s what I need right now.

What do you think is a good theme for a prom? *shrug* My prom was over a decade ago now, I’m not thinking about that stuff.

Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? I had to take a math class in 6th grade because I missed a lot of school due to a long hospital stay after a surgical procedure and then I had to retake a math course once in community college. I also took some summer classes voluntarily as well at community college to speed things up a bit.

Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor? About what? Always. I just expect the worst all the time.

Have you ever been to the rainforest? No.

Have you ever created a website? Just like on those websites like freewebs or whatever it was called back in the day for fansites. It was just website that let you make your own simple websites.

Ever thought about writing a book? Yes.

Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? No, but I’ve had nightmares where I’m being chased, attacked, and even shot at. 

Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true? I mean, yeah.

Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? Both suck, but a runny nose can really be a nuisance if it’s bad. I’ve had times where I had to stuff a tissue in my nostril cause it was so bad. Not being able to breathe isn’t pleasant either, though...

Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat? That’s tough cause I have a lot of stomach problems and it’s absolutely awful. I very rarely get sore throats, I don’t even recall the last time, but having it hurt when swallowing is not fun and swallowing is something you continuously do, so it’s not exactly something you can avoid. I also feel like there’s not a whole lot you can do about it either. 

Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? I wouldn’t say a disaster. 

Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? Nope. I’ve never really given it a real try either, I give up quite easily and quickly. 

Who do you think is the easiest to talk to? It’s easier for me to talk to the void in surveys or on Twitter. 

Would you consider yourself to be emo? I’ll always be emo.

Do you have a favourite metal band or do you not like metal? I’m not into metal, but lately the surveys I’ve been taking it’s clear that the creators sure are. It’s likely the same person.

What is your current desktop picture? Alexander Skarsgard.

Thick or thin blanket? I just use a throw blanket.

Who are your favorite bands? Idk man, I haven’t really been into much music lately. <<< Same. I have my favorites that have been my favorites forever and always will be, but I don’t have any new ones or any I’ve discovered recently.

How do you mark through your word search puzzles? I prefer to use a highlighter, but circling with a pen works.

Have you ever sewn something? No.

What did you eat for dinner last night? A Lean Cuisine microwave meal.

Ever been grounded? Yeah.

Have you seen all of the Jaws movies? I haven’t seen any of them.

When was the last time you played cards? (not on the computer) It’s been a few years.

Have you ever drank Cherry Coke? Yeah. That was one of my favorites when I was younger.

Have you ever had a black eye? No.

Have you ever eaten a bug? Never voluntarily, that’s for sure. I don’t want to think about the times I unknowingly have. *shivers*

Do you like pranking people? No.

Did you ever take a cooking class in school? No.

Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? Nah. On that day my mom just makes corned beef and cabbage, mostly cause my dad loves it. I don’t care for it, though.

Do you use Skype? No. 

Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches? No.

Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? No.

Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? I haven’t seen him in like 5 years. He doesn’t post photos of himself on social media either so I honestly have no idea what he looks like now.

Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. I don’t feel like it right now.

Have you ever cheated on a test? No.

Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No.

How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? I don’t have a job.

Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? All the time. I’ve always loved to read.

When was the last time you were scared? I’ve been really stressed and nervous about some health related things.

What’s your favorite song by Rihanna? I like several of her songs. Can you speak binary? No. I know absolutely nothing about that.

Would you rather live somewhere that had hurricanes or tornadoes? Neither, thanks. 

Have you ever had a pet that you disliked? No.

When was the last time you saw hail? It’s been several years, actually. 

What is on your mind right this second: A lot of things.

Have you ever given a nickname to your pet(s)? Uh, yeah. Countless nicknames.

When was the last time you shaved your legs? It’s been awhile. Hair doesn’t really grow there for me, so.

Do you ever try free samples at the store? Not usually, but I have. Especially at Costco.

Do you like boys with long hair? My personal preference is short hair.

Do you like root beer? I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with Root Beer. I used to not like it at all, then I could tolerate it if that’s all there was and I wanted something, and then there have been times where I’ve actually wanted it and enjoyed it, so. *shrug* It was never a first choice, though. 

What is the best fast food place, in your opinion? I’m gonna count Wingstop as fast food. 

Do you have faith in yourself? No. :/

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #393

i’ve got a shitload of surveys backed up, so... get ready, aha.

Have you ever watched the show Bad Girls Club? No, but I adore the Falling In Reverse song, haha. Have you ever purposely made someone jealous? Not to my recollection, no. What kind of shampoo do you use? It's a Dove one for dandruff and I LOVE it. It makes my hair so silky, smells good, and just feels clean longer. Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Not to brag, but I've been told that my whole life. What name do you think is pretty for a girl? "Alessandra" will ALWAYS be my favorite name. If you had to name your daughter after a Disney princess, which one? Hm. Perhaps Jasmine, or maybe Aurora. Do you think telepathy is real? Nope. When you were little, did you ever think you would be a magician? Not seriously, no, but I was OBSESSED with those little magic kits you could get at the Scholastic book faire. What is your opinion on poetry? It's a beautiful way of expression, and I especially love the figurative approach to it. I truly think writing poetry can even help discover things about yourself. What, if any, TV shows do you have on DVD? I have seasons 1-4 of Meerkat Manor, and you can bet your ass I'll get Season 5 once that's available in that format! Would you rather go in a hot air balloon or go sky diving? Hot air balloon, probs. I'm too scared of sky diving. Homework–would you rather do it on a Friday or Sunday? Friday. I like to get it out of the way the day it's assigned. What cartoon character did you have a crush on as a kid? Ash Ketchum, haha. What video games have you beaten? Loads and loads. Who makes the most in your entire family? I actually don't know. Probably Ashley? She's a mammographer, along with other duties. If a cosmetology class was offered at your school, would you take it? No. Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? If it's done safely and not overdone to the point it affects your health, you damn well go for it if it helps your self-confidence. Your favourite meal growing up? Spaghetti, or as I called it, "psghetti," haha. How many bedrooms in the house you live in? Three. What link was the closest person to you that’s died? If we're talking humans, Jason's mom. If you wanna include any living being, then absolutely my dog Teddy. Anything about your mum that annoys you? She is ALWAYS right. Doesn't matter what it is. What meal that your mum cooks is your favourite? I don't know. Have you ever tried caviar? Can you explain the taste to me? HELL no. What, in your opinion, will cause the end of the world? The universe itself is infinite. If we're talking Earth, completely eliminated, either a gamma ray or black hole. If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? I mentioned Ashley already, and Nicole is a social worker with children. I actually don't remember what my half-siblings do for work. Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? I've been envious of them for sure, absolutely. They're actually doing shit with their lives and seem to have themselves figured out. I gotta admit I'm jealous of how close Ash and Nicole are, too. I want to be the third person, but I'm just... not. We're so very different that it's hard to get as close as I want. Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? Depends on what I'm feeling of course, but I think like most people, I have a more quality experience at sit-in restaurants. What is the biggest dream of your life? Photograph and come into physical contact with meerkats (whether they climb on me or I pet them, idc) at the KMP. I WILL cry. What is a country you’d never ever visit? Places like North Korea. Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? I don't have bills. Do you think life should just hand things to you? No. Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? I desperately want to earn my own money. What type of a survey do you skip altogether? I don't like bolding surveys. I like the opportunity to explain in normal ones like these. Do you get nervous before “meeting the parents”? Yep. Do you own a knife? Not any besides your ordinary kitchen knives. What song do you want played at your funeral? I have a few in mind. "Life is Beautiful" by Sixx A.M. and "Angels on the Moon" by Thriving Ivory probably top the list. Do people get shocked by how old you are? I don't know, but probably, given how dependent I am on my parents for like, everything. Do you have any features that people notice right away? As in a mole on your cheek, or a big nose, big teeth, etc? Apparently my lip ring. What's the last compliment you received? The lady that works with me in the TMS office liked my Umbreon shirt. What's the meanest insult you have received? Probably that I'm a martyr (and not in the good way). Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed? Yes. Does your best friend approve of the last person you kissed? They're the same person lmao. Do you have any friends with kids? Yes. I feel like most of my FB friends have kids. What was the last thing you spent your money on? I bought my niece her birthday present. Where did you first kiss the last person you kissed? My back porch. Does your favorite song remind you of anybody? Just America in general. Do you have a member of the opposite sex you’ve told everything to? Jason, pretty much. Do you want any tattoos? If yes, what? Oh hunny, I want LOADS. Are promises important to you? YES. Do NOT promise me shit if you're not planning to keep it for sure. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? Well, for one, I'm overweight, so. But if you're talking bone structure and spacing or whatever, then no, I'd say they're average. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? Who says only girls can wear dresses? But regardless, nope. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? No. Have you ever had a period in your life where you were on a major health kick and you were really picky about what you consumed? A few times. Is there anything that you’d never do for any amount of money? There's a good number of things. Do you know what your next injection will be? No. Does anyone call you darling? If so who? Sara sometimes. If you had to have a cartoon character tattooed to you what would it be? If I had to, maybe Pikachu? It'd be a nostalgia thing. You have to dye your hair two colours, what do you choose? Two colors at once? Maybe a pastel mix of pink and purple. Or black with orange highlights and layers? What a Halloween vibe. Ever had something stolen? If so what? Yeah; our basketball hoop was stolen from our yard when I was younger. Do you feel the water in a pool before you get in, or do you dive right in? I feel it. Have you ever touched a squirrel? No. What's better, candles or incense? Incense! When's the last time you’ve smelled a skunk? I'm actually unsure if I ever have. Have you ever used a Ouija board? No. Have you ever met anyone who claimed to be a witch? Yes. Does it annoy you when high-schoolers wear Elmo bookbags? Why the fuck would I care? Do you go along with prank-callers, or just hang up? I don’t even answer numbers I don’t know. Would you ever tattoo a lover’s name onto your body? No. Do you own any version of Guitar Hero? I have a lot, actually. Do you use mouthwash every single day? No. Have you ever eaten White Castle burgers? Only those you warm up in the microwave. We don't have the actual restaurant here. What’s the weirdest thing in your body that you can crack? Nothing weird. Do you like chocolate milk? Who doesn't? o: Do you know anyone with asthma? Yeah, my mom. Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? Because she's probably asleep, and we mainly chat on Discord now. Has someone ever called you at midnight on your birthday? Many years ago. Have you ever slept in the same bed as your friend? Yeah. Do you want to see somebody right now? Yes. Do you currently have feelings for anybody? Yes. When was the last time you changed in front of someone? I'm not sure; especially with how I feel about my body now, I avoid it like the plague. Realistically though, probably Mom, passing by or something. Who did you last fall asleep with? If you exclude my cat, Sara. Think back to the last person you held hands with, would you kiss them? That would be my niece Emerson, and I'd certainly kiss her head. Can you be your complete self around the person you like? She's the only person I feel 110% comfortable being my authentic self around. How many tattoos would you get? I want A LOT. Like, more than I'd keep track of. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None.