#~Baking 101~

[theondnonly]

ANDDDDD SHES DONE!!!! Z-101 is ready to catch some data!!!

now two left to GO- I wanna write more on this sheet but in lazy pworowo 😭😭😭

Tbh it was so fun to make!!!! I wish I could write more but my phone is at its peak so maybe I will try to do something about it in the morning X-X

bonus - jacket on and Jacket off teehee

[agalactichalo]

Counting to Three: Holding it Together PT. 1 (TMNT 2012)

@tmnt-write-fight Attack For @dorky-pals

A big thank you @awildaspenappeared for helping me write this!

Author Note

Author has compulsions and used bits of their own experiences in this.

I will probably move this to A03 When I can make an account.

Summary

Leo had to count to three. One, two, three. His brothers all accounted for, it kept them safe. He was sure of that until suddenly Donatello wasn't present and he panicked.

What follows are tense arguments, strains between the brothers, a fight gone bad and Leo and Donnie have a spat. Need for space vs need for safety.

OR

An IDW event almost becomes canon because Leo and Donnie get caught out after bitching for a couple hundred words.

Word count: 2,388

♡━━━━━♡

One.. Two.. Three..

Red.. Orange.. Purple..

Raph.. Mikey.. Donnie..

The headcount loop Leo often found himself stuck in over, and over, and over throughout the day, finding himself only leaving the dojo of the lair to make sure everyone was still alive and safe. There were a few rooms the teen would check consistently, Donnie’s lab, the living room, the kitchen and Mikey and Raph’s bedrooms.

It turned into a routine, a force of habit. He would tell himself it was necessary, not wanting it to be a big deal so it was simply something to assure they were safe. It never changed from hour to hour however, one, two, three, his brother still in their usual spots, getting nothing more than a glance at most usually when he would check their space. Unless Mikey was in his room rather than in the kitchen, the youngest would sometimes try to pull him into conversation. He was smart with it, always having Leo participate in something that kept him there for more than a minute. It was sneaky but.. nice. It was the most normal feeling-thing as of late.

Unfortunately, his brother wasn’t ready to enter the dojo again, not that Leo could blame him. The empty shrine where what little pictures Splinter originally preserved being empty now made this all the more real. His room was still untouched but just the knowledge that Splinter had never reopened that door in the dojo was a haunted thought.

This day was no different, Leo had done the headcount religiously, only leaving the dojo to do so. Looking around as he made his usual rounds. One. Two. Three? Surely he just made a mistake. There had to be three. He needed to check again, there just had to be three! Where did his brother go? One: Raph was lounging in the living room, comic on his lap and Chompy on his plastron trying to follow along.

Two: Mikey was in his room and was once again flipping through a scrapbook Leo knew was filled with photos of them and Splinter. Icecream Kitty’s bowl resting next to him, as Mikey showed the cat every image he had, giving a brief story for each. Three? Donnie’s lab was empty. And he hadn’t seen the other leave it since Splinter’s death unless it was for patrol or food. Forcibly at that!

Leo kept trying to tell himself he was overthinking, that things were fine, but the only other places he could think to look were the bathroom and kitchen. Maybe the other just got hungry. He kept telling himself, that was until he was faced with another empty room. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. He can not lose anyone else. Not again! He’s already lost his father. And his brother had already been dead once!

The living room wasn’t too far away. Leo headed over to Raph with vigor. “Have you seen Donnie?!” He asked frantically, looking around the room just in case he missed sight of his tallest sibling somehow.

“Leo, you are taking this whole, checking on us thing way too far.” Raph replied as he lazily turned a page. Chompy let out a churr, which would have the teen stop reading and pet the little guy. “He probably just needed some fresh air, you know like most people? If you could call a mutant turtle a person.” He snarked, sarcasm and wit dripped from his words pooled on his tongue, ready to poison the next. He hadn’t seen the other leave but he had other things to do than babysit his immediate younger twin brother.

“Raph this isn’t funny! What if something happened? He would have told us if he left wouldn’t he?” Leo sputtered out quickly, his hands gesturing and moving aimlessly as he spoke. It felt wrong without the count being completed, his anxiety rising rather quickly. He had to finish the count but he couldn’t do that without Donnie… What was he saying? He was worried for Donatello’s whereabouts, not just that a sequence was finished.

It didn’t take long for Leo to leave Raph to his own devices, going to see if their youngest brother had seen Donnie. Mikey sitting up from his bed as his door was opened, “Hey Leo, weren’t you just in here?”

“I was Mikey,” Leo would pat his little brother's head lightly, trying to hide his anxiety. “Have you seen Donnie anywhere?” “No, but maybe he made himself smaller with some of his chemicals and sciency stuff! Oh! Oh! Or maybe he managed to make an invisibility ring, like the one I have in Mazes and Mutants!” Mikey would exclaim, grinning ‘ear to ear’ or well more accurately tympanum to tympanum.

Leonardo didn’t know if that was possible, but then again, they were just in space for six months fighting in situations that were arguably even less possible. What if Mikey was right! No that was ridiculous- but he has been right about oddities before! This was enough to kick his anxiety into high gear, making him check every room in the house again,  “Donnie! Where are you?!” Leo would call out as he looked, soon getting to the one room that didn’t pass his mind to even check, the door opening before he could even reach for the handle.

“Why is it so loud out here?” Donnie would ask more groggily, his blanket loosely draped over himself. He had overwhelmed himself with all the work he was giving himself to do, finally allowing himself to get some rest. Unfortunately for him that was short lived by his brother's anxiety.

“Donnie! Are you okay? You look like shell, where were you? You weren’t in your lab or the living room!” Leo would start mother hen Donnie, his hands on his younger brother's shoulders as he spoke.

“Did you forget I have a bedroom?” Donnie asked, his eyebrow ridge raised, moving to cross his arms as he looked down at his older brother.

“You normally aren’t there- I-” Leo would start to explain to Donnie, realising how ridiculous it probably sounded now that it was being said out loud.

“You could have checked there- listen Leo, your constant checking is getting worse, it feels like every few hours-,, no, every hour at this point you are checking on all of us.” Donnie would start to explain however soon hear his twin speak, cutting him off an annoyed sigh escaping Donnie.

Raph chiming in with an, “An hour is generous Donnie.” A more annoyed tone of voice, standing at the end of the hallway leaning against the doorframe.

Donnie rolled his eyes waiting for Raph to be done before giving a “anyway what I am trying to say is it feels like it is turning into-.. or has turned into a compulsion. Well they are hard to deal with they can be helped if-"

"I don't need help! They, they aren't.. compulsions or whatever. I'm simply checking that none of my brother's are in danger. I-I” Leonardo would stop himself from being too vulnerable with his brothers, seeming too weak. “I promised Splinter to keep you all safe and so far my ‘checking’ has!"

“Leo, your ‘checking’ only feels like it is helping because it is a safe constant, when you experience compulsions, from in this case a large change. It is to avoid negative outcomes that may not even be real, they are in an unhealthy way to relieve stress and-” Donnie would grow more annoyed when he was cut off again. The mixture of being sleep deprived, overstimulated and cut off making him want to yell.

“Donnie, stop. None of that is true. Have you eaten? Last time I checked on you, you hadn’t.” Leo would try to deflect the situation off of himself, it wasn’t true after all! The other was pushing his buttons in the worst ways right now and he didn’t know how much more of his pushing he could take.

“We aren’t kids anymore Leo, we know how to handle ourselves.”

"You?! You know how to handle yourself? You can’t even take care of yourself without constant reminders to step away from your childish tinkering!” “As if you’re much better. You can’t cook anything but ramen yourself.”

“What? And you can do better?” “Actually, yes I-” “And what about how you are always the first to get hurt in every single damn fight we have?” “Oooooh, Leo swore!” Mikey chimed in, trying to ease the tension, standing at his door with Icecream Kitty’s bowl in both hands. “Leo! That is not fair-” “Fair? There is no fairness in combat. You have to be the very best or you’ll end up dead. Again!”

“Do you want to fight with a literal stick?”

“I’d do it better than you.”

“Then how about you do it!” Donnie unsheathed his bō staff from his holder and shoved it into Leo’s hands harshly before he made for the lair exit.

Leo would stare at the bō staff quietly, he knew how to react when Raph acted like this, but he didn't expect it from his other brothers! He soon snapped out of his thoughts as he watched Donnie walk away. He started to move to follow his brother.

Raph could sympathize with how his brother felt here, so he would move and hold Leo back. “Leo, let him blow off some steam,” seeing himself in Donnie as Donnie walks off.

“What? No! I can't just- Donnie come back!” Leo yelled after him, he didn't know what else to do, he can't handle himself, he's been too vulnerable lately. Everything was wound tightly on a coil he meticulously upheld. Yet he could only watch as it unraveled before him, in a mess of emotions.

Leo however would ignore Raph's attempt at stopping him from going after their brother, leading to him nearly getting tackled by Raph. He pushed his brother away, Mikey carefully grabbing onto Raph's arm. Mikey could not have another brother leave right now. “Do.. Do you want to bake something with me?”

Donnie found himself traveling to the place he usually goes to find materials for his creations, the scrap yard. Tired eyes surveyed around at the broken parts littered around in their janky, uneven piles.

He didn’t have his usual mental list of things he was hoping to find, he mostly just wanted to get away. Tinkering with technology, figuring out chemical solutions and drawing plans was his form of escapism. Though it was hard to escape when your head was too cloudy to think.

“Donnie what are you doing?” Leo would ask the bō staff held outstretched, as if offering a truce as he held the staff for Donnie to grab. “You don't need anything from here right now and it'll be dawn soon. Stop being stupid and come back to the lair.”

Donnie looked over, his gaze switched from his bō staff to his brother's gaze “I’m not being stupid, Leo. I am taking some much needed space after your constant helicoptering!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his beak and sighed heavily. “Leo, I'm not trying to start an argument or debate right now. I'm just trying to have some space.”

“You think that leaving without your weapon, with no one knowing where you were going was the best thing to do? Seriously! I need to know where you all are, you-you-I-you could get hurt or get in trouble and we wouldn't even know.” Leo started pacing, the anxiety pulsing through his body needing some sort of outlet.

“No. You'd be far safer in the lair where I can make sure you're all safe for the moment.” Leo started tapping against the bō staff with nerves strung high. “We should go. Now.”

"Shell! Leo! I can't be there for you every second of every day!" Donnie shouted exasperated. He'd exhausted every logical option there was. Donnie twiddled his thumbs in circular, repetitive motions. Using this motion to help himself calm down and breathe, “It feels like you guys never listen to me unless it’s what you want to hear, Leo I was trying to help.”

“I’m supposed to be the one helping you guys Donnie- Master Splinter said that I was to replace him as Sensei as a-” Leo cut himself off. He swallowed thickly but continued calmly, acting as if he hadn't just choked on his words. “If anything happened to him, my duty is to solve all your problems.” Donnie listened to Leo talk, his gaze growing from annoyed to sympathetic and more sad. “Awkward sibling hug?” He offered. Stood there holding out hands, his stance more awkward than purely tense.

“Awkward sibling hug.”

 The teen walked over to his older brother, wrapped him in an awkward sibling hug, two gentle pats onto his brother's carapace. “Pat. Pat.” He added trying to lighten the mood a little as he choked out, “You are our brother Leo, you may be our leader but you are our brother first, we can help our problems together.”

Donnie gave a mischievous grin, “Or we could tell Mikey you are bottling up your feelings again?” Knowing his brother would pester at Leo until he cracked. No one could resist Mikey's puppy-dog eyes.

“Okay! Okay! You win, just don’t tell Mikey” Leo would laugh, shaking his head moving to tap his brother's carapace with his hand. “Let’s just go home now before someone sees us.” “Yeah, let’s head home now.” Donnie then diverted his eyes to his staff that Leo offered once again. “Thanks.” He twirled the staff briefly before sheathed it on his back.

They snuck under the familiar fence with the large hole in it and began to make their way home when all of a sudden Bebop and Rocksteady crash down from their rooftop perch heavily. Well Rocksteady did. Bebop more or less landed on top of the rhinoceros.

This caused Leo to immediately settle into the previous preconceived notions he had at the realisation that all of his anxieties were real. If he was stopped by Raph, Donnie would be in so much danger right now. This was proof his system kept them safe because when the system didn't work, they got into dangerous situations and fights.

At least now he could protect his little brother.

[thecatsandthecrone]

Small batch bread for prosperity

I love to make this bread when I want something warm and comforting but I am too tired to cook. It takes literally no effort, barely any kneading and the dough is ready in 10 minutes tops.

Plus, if you make it with intent, it's as good as any other complex, time consuming magic recipe.

INGREDIENTS

360 grams of flour (prosperity, for me) A teaspoon of salt 5 grams/a packet of yeast (speeding up spells, for me) 300 grams/mls of cool water Linseed (prosperity, wealth) Pumpkin seed (prosperity, good luck)

Combine all dry ingredients together in a big mixing bowl, with intent. Make sure the salt and the yeast don't touch directly as that would spoil the yeast. If you don't have a lot of pumpkin seed or linseed, leave them out of the recipe for now (you can use them as decoration). Make a hole in the middle of the dry ingredients, and slowly add the water, mixing thoroughly. The dough will be shaggy but that's OK, that's how we want it to look (it won't come together or form a ball at this stage). Cover it and let it rise for 12 to 18 hours, depending on how warm your kitchen is. The dough should have doubled or tripled in size during that time.

Right before cooking, knead it a little extra, but not so much that you eliminate all of the air on it. At this point the dough should naturally take the shape of a ball. If it doesn't, all extra flour until it holds shape. The texture of the dough should be similar to that of your earlobe. When you have a soft ball that more or less holds shape, preheat your oven or air fryer to 200º, Once it has reached that temperature put your ball of dough in there and cook it for 20 minutes. Your bread should be ready and warm. Let it cool down a little before slicing it! *** This recipe can also be done with sourdough. I have tried before and you will have to adapt the recipe depending on the level of humidity of the sourdough starter that you keep. Happy baking!

[artgletic]

wanted to try making one of those illustrated explanation images i like so much so i did one with one of the more enigmatic power combos in fairy story

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Hang on thought about pastry arts school again

[randomnameless]

Everytime I see your Pat lolcalization posts, I can't help but think if this is him overcompensating for voicing the character of n*zi germany in the first seasons of the hetalia anime.

I can't say and I'd rather not say anything about Pat's intent or own agenda or whatever -

But the interesting "lolcalisation changes" and direction give to VAs really seem to favour a certain reading of the events happening in FE16 and to this day, I still can't understand how that managed to be released without getting at least some flak.

Sure Fates' lolcalisation is a tough nut to beat and nothing comes quite close to what happened to Fates to FE16/Nopes, and yet I wish I am joking when I say nearly 80% of the lines involving Supreme Leader and/or Rhea/the CoS should be double checked, because "Dany expy bringing a revolution" has to fit in the story that is FE16, and that's talking about the washed down version of Dany some people have and not the one who uses violence for the greater good, until she starts to realise that the "greater good" is as solid as smoke and runs away from the - well-intentioned ! - mess she created.

Again, I don't think anything was malicious with the lolcalisation Fodlan got, is it just a case of misunderstanding the game and slapping archetypes and "trendy notions" to make this "strange" game sell like hotcakes in your home market?

Or is it another case of "think of the children Susan" where Susan sure as hell can't endorse a character presented as the heroine sprout disgusting things and advocate for imperialism 101 so the heroine is now rewritten?

Or is it the lolcalisation team - after looking at the jp script - try to make the general idea of "you must feel bad for this character" somehow work, because they thought no one would seriously want to walk with her and feel any sort of sad uwus for the "you have pointy ears, you cannot rule over humans" red emperor? So they modified the script and directed the VA accordingly ?

IDK, but I think if you've been long enough on this blog you know my stance on localisation and lolcalisation but this discrepency between the two versions (or at least two audios) really took me by surprise when the game was released in 2019 lol

[ssheepdogg]

rxty fanart (Baking: 101)

[pickletrip]

Kiseki: Dear to me

Episode 9: Finally free, but where is the love?

[riordanverseaddict]

Yesterday's events just highlight why I shouldn't be in a kitchen.

I was making tea for myself (without milk) and I somehow almost burnt it. Then I burnt my tongue with the said tea

[dotcomgirrrl]

If i see that stupid fucking cunty rococo doll discourse on twitter again

[laurajpg]

okay but who are you if you don't listen to blondie while making blondies

[sunshineandwitchery]

Happy Lughnasadh/Lammas! 🌾✨🥖 Make some delicious herb bread loaves with me!

[cookplatefork]

From Cakes to Casseroles: The Magic of Sour Cream in the Kitchen

[erintaj]

The last class♥️

[fordragonfliesandme]

Unlocking the Secrets: Understanding the Differences in Measuring Liquids and Solids in the Kitchen

In yesterdays blog post I discussed what the difference between baking powder and baking soda is. Today’s let’s look at another puzzling question in the world of baking & cooking, the difference between liquid and solid measuring. In the culinary realm, precision is key. Whether you are a seasoned chef or a passionate home cook, the importance of accurate measurements cannot be overstated.…

[smiteswrites]

A Different Kind of Pain

Part One

Description: After losing a gem of a next door neighbor, Jack worries what the new resident will be like. Instead of a young obnoxious college kid, he meets you. Instantly struck by your warm nature (and good looks but he won't admit to that), Jack finds himself drawn to you in a way he hasn't experienced in years.

Tags: reader is a chemistry grad student bc i say so, shameless self insert, fem!reader, trying to avoid too many specific descriptors on readers appearance but i am new to this, reader is shorter than jack, widower!Jack, Jack talks ab therapy, trying to do justice to the fact that Jack is an amputee, but again I am not an expert, just some fluff and feelings, eventual smut, and so mdni 18+

A/N: Thank you all for the encouragement on the first version of this! It has been really really amazing to know people enjoy my ideas and writing and absolutely wild that y'all want more. I really love this idea and have many many plans for these two. I hope to get part two written and out this week. I am thinking around 3-4 parts total, but we shall see. This is starts similar to this post, but I made some changes and expanded quite a bit. I hope you enjoy and please send me asks/dms if you have any suggestions/comments/feedback on anything! I am always open to improving and learning.

gif credit - @iluvseb | divider credit - @cursed-carmine

Part One - 3k

Jack has been living in the left half of a red brick duplex, unit 101A, long enough to see a handful of tenants come and go on the right side, 102A. There was a college kid whose prefrontal cortex was just underdeveloped enough for him to be nothing but a pain in Jack’s ass. Needless to say, not his favorite neighbor. Then there was a young couple who were perfectly lovely until they had to move somewhere with two bedrooms to accommodate an incoming little one (Jack had been sure to give them his number in case they ever needed a friend in the ED). Most recently an older woman, Mrs. McAlister, who had regularly brought Jack all manner of baked goods and leftovers, had moved out and into her daughter's house. 

The unfortunate loss of Mrs. McAlister’s cooking meant that the right half of his duplex (and yes he thought of it as his by this point) was empty. Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread creep in as he watched the last of Mrs. McAlister’s things be packed into a UHaul on Saturday afternoon. Would his new neighbor be another sweet elderly woman? Or would he get stuck with some obnoxious twenty something with no common courtesy? 

Fortunately for Jack, he didn’t have to wait long to find out. Housing got snatched up fast in a city like Pittsburgh, especially housing that was halfway decent and affordable, so it was no surprise that 102A was empty for under 48 hours. 

His first glimpse of the new tenant comes when Jack is arriving back home from a shift, just before 8 am on a Monday. He isn’t surprised to see a moving truck out front, nor is he surprised to see you directing the two movers on where to put furniture and boxes. He can tell you're young, in your twenties is his guess, which immediately sets his nerves on edge. Jack doesn’t think he can handle anymore house parties or loud hookups or trash left out. But you have a quiet, competent air about you that seems to indicate you aren't going to cause a ruckus. You appear to be alone, aside from the movers. He finds himself looking for evidence of a partner, husband, wife, without really meaning to. Forcing himself to not be overly nosy, Jack moves past the two men, now carrying part of a bed frame, and lets himself into 101. 

After a shower and the last of Mrs. McAlister’s roast (bless that woman), Jack is dressed in grey sweats and a black t-shirt, ready for bed. Despite the sleep threatening to overcome him, he finds himself looking out his window to check in on the status of your move. Apparently you had gotten here early, because he can see you handing the movers a wad of cash and sending them on their way. Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbed his prosthetic and is hurrying to get the damn thing back on so he can step back outside. He may as well catch you as you’re heading back inside, introduce himself, make sure he doesn’t need to be concerned about having another pain in his ass next door. It is the neighborly thing to do after all, he reasons. 

Another moment finds him a couple steps outside his door, clearing his throat to catch your attention from where you’re examining the front facing window of 102. 

“I’m Jack. Abbot. I’m in 101. Figured I should introduce myself, welcome you to the neighborhood and all.” He outstretches his hand, wondering if a handshake is still what people do these days.

Smiling, you shake his hand firmly and give him your name, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. It is at this moment Jack finally takes you in fully. He was right, he thinks, you must be in your mid twenties, no ring on your finger, and certainly not a pain in his ass. You stand a handful of inches shorter than him, just enough that you have to look up to make eye contact. The smile you are giving him is radiant in a way that makes his stomach feel tight. He can see you’re flushed from the exertion of carrying boxes and helping to move furniture, and your hair has begun to fall from where you had it back. 

But even though you aren’t at your most put together, Jack is left feeling off balance, as he can only see you as the most raw and real kind of beautiful. The kind of beauty that comes with a bright smile, dewy skin, and pink chinks. The kind that has as much to do with physical appearance as it does a person’s character. The kind of beauty that reminds him of his late wife when they first met. Even though he is just meeting you, Jack likes to think his gut is usually right about people, and his gut is telling him that you are exactly the type of kind, caring, intelligent person that spells nothing but trouble for him.

“It’s very nice to meet you Jack! I hope the movers weren’t too much of a disturbance, it seems like a quiet little haven around here.” 

“About as close to a haven as you can get in the city,” he agrees with a small smile. “And don’t mention it, you weren’t a disturbance at all.” 

In the few minutes the two of you spend chatting he finds out you’re a fourth year graduate student, “A PhD in chemistry? You might just be a bigger masochist than me.” You somehow work nearly as many hours as he does, and he finds your work ethic dizzyingly attractive. You moved to the area in the hope of finding somewhere a little quieter, some place where you didn’t feel like people were packed in like sardines. You aren’t from PA, but you have a couple close friends in town and your family tries to visit often. You confirm his suspicions when you tell him you’re single and don’t have any kids or pets so there shouldn’t be any noise waking him up through the night.

“Actually, I’m an attending in the ED, usually on night shift. Sounds like you aren't home much during the day, but-” 

“Don’t worry Jack, I’ll keep it down during the day too. You can always bang on the wall if I’m being to loud,” 

He feels the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Thanks, sweetheart.” It slips before he can catch up to his mouth. Even though he knows he shouldn’t be giving you nicknames, and definitely not that kind, the pink that dusts your cheeks at the term of endearment is enough to make him want to call you nothing else. 

“Uh- listen I’ve gotta get to bed, but let me give you my number in case you need anything.  Neighbor or doctor wise,” he says, shooting you a wink. 

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you doctor.” 

And god, he knows you mean it in a teasing way, but it does nothing to help the steadily growing attraction he feels towards you. He knows he is at least 15 years too old, and far too emotionally unavailable to even entertain the idea of being with you. He knows. But when you smile at him like he’s just offered to hang the moon and stars for you, he really doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

It’s just his number, no harm in you having it, and certainly no reason it has to have any underlying intention behind it. That’s what he tells himself anyway. 

He puts his number in your phone when you hand it to him, putting “Jack Abbot” as the name and “the guy in 101A and doctor at PTMC” in the notes for good measure. You thank him again, giving his hand a squeeze as he returns the phone. You say your goodbyes, and he retreats into his black out curtain and noise machine generated paradise. The last thing he sees before shutting his eyes is a text from an unknown number with your name, just so he can save your number too. 

You are going to be a pain in his ass alright, a kind he didn’t even think to be worried about. 

After your initial introduction, Jack assumes (worries) the two of you won't see much of each other. During your initial meeting, in an effort to reassure him you wouldn’t make too much noise during the day, you had inadvertently given him your schedule: 6:45 am leave for work, 7-5 ish suffer, 5:30 pm arrive home from work. With anyone else he would be glad to know that there would be no one next door to disturb his sleep, but instead he could only focus on the fact that he would rarely, if ever, run into you. 

His assumption proved to be correct for the first two weeks of your time in 102A, only seeing you on occasion as he left for work. But, about halfway through week three, Jack wakes up earlier than normal. By the time 5:30 pm rolls around and he’s supposed to be on call for another 13.5  hours, he feels himself starting to get restless. It’s a nice day outside with a high of 75 and a low of 52, the sun has set enough to cast an orange glow on the city, but not enough that it’s going to be dark soon, and Jack has a rare burst of energy. His therapist has been telling him some sunshine goes a long way, and he didn’t spend all that money on the fucking sports prosethic to not use it. 

By 5:42 pm Jack is in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, sports prosthetic on. He makes it about two steps out his front door, still adjusting the stupid prosthetic, when he senses he isn't alone. Straightening up, he realizes you’ve just come out of your front door as well. His gaze travels upwards from your feet as he makes his way to his full height. You’re dressed similar to himself in athletic shorts with a matching jacket, and he has to force himself to not linger on the exposed skin of your legs. When he does meet your eyes, he finds you smiling at him in a way that suggests you caught his little slip up, but are too polite to mention it. 

“Hey Jack! Are you heading out for an evening run? Well- I guess it would technically be morning for you, sorry,” You laugh at yourself lightly, cheeks coloring only the slightest bit. Whether it’s from embarrassment at the slip up or something else he can’t be sure. 

Either way, he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I still consider this to be evening. I am a proud night lurker, there is no part of me that wants to be waking up before 3 pm.” A small fit of giggles overtakes you, and he feels his smile turn into something more genuine. 

“But no, not much of a runner,” he gestures to his right leg where the prosthetic is on display. “I’m on call tonight and can’t do much besides hang out here, figured a walk might do me some good.” 

To your credit, your expression only falters slightly when you take in his leg, quickly recovering to match his eye contact as you listen. You nod, humming warmly in agreement, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “I have to agree. I’m also not much of a runner but I try to walk after lab most days. I think it’s a great way to reset after a long day.” 

“Sounds like you’re the evening walk expert then?” 

“Something like that,” you joke back. 

Jack knows that the conversation is winding down, it’s time for him to wish you a good walk and find a reason to hang back until you go on your way. Wait to see which direction you turn before beginning to walk in the opposite way. But Jack also knows that you’ve been looking at him with an attentiveness that, while he gives freely, is rarely if ever matched. If there were ever a sign of not wanting a conversation to end, he thinks the way you’re looking at him is surely it. 

Fuck it. 

“Well, I’m new to this whole walking for fun thing, maybe you could show me the best route to take?” 

Your eyes brighten, “Of course! I mean, obviously I’m new to the area, but I think I’ve found a good path. It’s about 30 minutes, if that’s good with you?” 

“Of course, lead the way,” he gestures forward with his hand, indicating for you to lead the way, leaning forward slightly as he does so. If you notice the way he stumbles forward slightly as his weight shifts on an unfamiliar right foot, you don’t say anything. But Jack swears he you’re biting the inside of your cheek to fight off a grin as you walk down the steps. 

Fucking sports prosthetic. 

The walk is… nice. Nicer than Jack expected. He can hear the birds chirping in the trees that are awkwardly implanted in the sidewalk. He can hear the sounds of the city too (sirens, honking, a plane overhead) but they’re less pronounced than normal. The two of you walk side by side as you lead him through parts of his neighborhood he’s never really taken the time to look at. You point out a café that apparently ‘makes a mean oat milk latte.’ 

“I hate to fulfill the old white guy stereotype, but I only drink my coffee black.” Self-deprecation as a form of self-defence, the oldest trick in the book. 

“As horrifying as that information is,” you begin, closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chest, “I also can get behind a black coffee, so if you’re calling yourself old you’re gonna have to call me old too.” You smile at him and make eye contact for only a moment before breaking looking at the pavement a few feet ahead of you.

“Besides, you have got to be the sexiest ‘old guy’ I’ve ever seen so I’d be wearing that badge proudly if I were you.” You put your hands up in mock defensiveness and accentuate your point with air quotes. 

He really isn’t sure what to do with himself besides laugh. Looking at you now, he could tell that even if you were uncertain, you were not the type of woman to let him get away with putting himself down. Nothing to do but admit defeat. 

“I think I’ll be quite happy with that title.” 

By the time the duplex is coming back into view Jack has learned that you’ve been walking everyday for years after a suggestion from a therapist. He’s learned that you “actually thought about going to medical school, but turns out biology and me don’t get along.” He’s also relearned more about chemistry than he ever hoped he would have to after asking the simple question “What does your lab research?” 

He had told you his own therapist had suggested he ‘get his ass outside’ more often, and that maybe the shrink was right more often than he wanted to give the guy credit for. He also shared one of his gorrier work stories and had been impressed when you were hanging on to his every word rather than going green. More importantly, he had only let himself spend about 3 minutes total looking at the way the sunlight caught your hair, or the way it framed your face as it fell from the loose bun you had it in, or at your lips as you spoke rather than your face, or at the necklace laying against the soft place where your neck met your collar bones. Just 3 minutes, not bad at all, practically a record. 

As you approach the front steps you hesitate, and he feels it too, he thinks. The uncertainty of where the two of you stand with one another. Jack knows where he stands, and he has a feeling he knows where you do too, he hadn’t been the only one with a staring problem. But even if Jack thinks he knows, he doesn’t really know. 

“Thank you for sharing your route with me, I think I was right to call you the walk expert.” He shoots you a trademark Abbot smirk, trying to put a lid on whatever feelings may or may not have been simmering during the past 30 minutes. 

“Anytime Jack, it was nice to have some company.” The smile you give him in return is softer, warmer than his own. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, he feels torn about how to approach you. He knows this feeling, he’s felt it before and it landed him in a world of heartbreak and pain. It was a place he’s worked hard to move on from, and thank god he can see now that while yes feelings, raw and vulnerable, can end in pain they are also what make life worth living. 

He isn’t sure where the two of you stand, after all you’ve barely started to get to know each other. However, he is sure that he wants to at least give himself the chance to find out, no matter how scary or stupid a choice it might be.  

“Well… maybe we could do this again sometime? I know my therapist would throw a fucking party if he got word of me not only being out in daylight but also socializing outside of work.” 

“I’d love that,” you smile wider now, staring at your feet briefly and rocking back on your heels slightly before looking back up at him. “I’ll be here a little after 5:30 pretty much everyday, join me whenever you like. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he feels his own expression melt into something so sickly sweet his cheeks hurt. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight, Jack.”