#Cocoa Crust

[buffetlicious]

McDonald's Singapore first introduced this locally inspired burger to us in 2017 and wowed me with the truly iconic dish in burger form. It came back briefly in the menu in 2019 and never appeared again until now. Of course I had to go buy the Nasi Lemak Burger Feast (S$11.50) which comes with Potato Wedges, Cocoa-Nut Pie and a small gassy drink. Upgraded the carbonated drink to a small ice green tea (+S$0.75).

For the 2023 version of the Nasi Lemak Burger, McDonald's tweaked the sambal sauce from sweet to savoury while also make changes to the chicken patty. Taking a bite, I did feel that the sauce was spicier than before, after all the sambal sauce is made from belachan, curry paste, chilli, shrimp, anchovies and other spices. The chicken patty is both crispy and juicy, boasting stronger flavours. Overall, the burger paired with fragrant sautéed onions, crisp cucumber slices and a fried egg was a sedap (Malay word for delicious) eat. While I enjoyed the soft and fluffy Potato Wedges over shoestring fries anytime, I did wish the wedges were dusted with some forms of spice mixture to elevate the flavours.

Now on to the Cocoa-nut Pie dessert. Breaking the pie into halves, all I see is the creamy coconut sauce with very little pieces of nata de coco inside, a far cry from the one I ate a few weeks ago. At least the pastry shell is still warm and crispy.

Selected image and video from McDonald’s Singapore.

[fullcravings]

Tiramisu Cheesecake Recipe

[yenpondering]

On a brighter note I've taken to cleaning and reorganising the kitchen since I'm the one that mainly uses it now and it gives me serotonin to see my baking supply all neat and tidy.

Last week I tried my hand at making a no bake matcha cheesecake and a matcha bread with red bean paste yeee

[jasperjv]

I tried to just make up a recipe for a sweet and salty dessert pizza and it wasn't good because of the cheese I used. I tossed it out in the yard and I've been watching crows eat it.

[neandernandor]

Gluten Free Pie Crust Recipe It's simple to make and gluten-free to use this pie crust. 6 tablespoons butter melted, 1.5 cups crushed crispy rice cereal squares, 1 tablespoon cocoa powder or more to taste, 1 teaspoon white sugar

[ceriley]

Recipe for Gluten Free Pie Crust This simple pie crust is easy to make and gluten-free.

[graphicallydelicious]

Chocolate Chess Pie The ingredients for the chocolate chess pie—a deliciously sweet and gooey dessert—include a pre-baked pie crust, evaporated milk, eggs, butter, and cocoa. 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 1/4 cup melted butter, 1.5 cups white sugar, 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder, 1 unbaked pie crust, 1 can evaporated milk, 2 eggs

[osamucide]

WHAT THEIR LOVE FEELS LIKE . . .

. . . ft. select BLLK men

⊹ YOICHI ISAGI . . . the sound of the ocean, seeing a shooting star, promise rings, iced tea on a hot day, being unable to sleep because you're excited about something, magnetic attraction, clinking flutes of sparkly champagne, blueberry and pomegranate, wishing so hard it feels like prayer

⊹ MEGURU BACHIRA . . . matching keychains, bandaids with doodles on them, dollar bills folded into hearts, sugar cookies, initials in sidewalk chalk hearts, nostalgic music, messy scrapbooks full of love, jumping in the pool with clothes on, kisses to transfer lip balm, dandelion and lemongrass

⊹ HYOMA CHIGIRI . . . red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, familiar smells, fresh cut fruit, city sunsets, tucking a flower behind a lover’s ear, a butterfly landing on you, getting ready to your favorite music, pink azaleas, laying in the bath with a good book, the bubblegum at the center of a lollipop

⊹ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI . . . warm honey, beams of sunlight through blinds, sitting in front of a campfire, sourdough bread with pretty designs cut into it, brown sugar and syrup, the sweet messages on teabag tags, “this reminded me of you,” gentle hands on both sides of your face

⊹ SHOUEI BAROU . . . your lover’s laundry mixed with yours, cucumber and lemon, shoulder massages, green grass after a thunderstorm, being excited to give someone a gift, an animal’s fluffy tail in the shape of a heart, grabbing onto someone’s arm while you stumble, perfect omelettes

⊹ SEISHIRO NAGI . . . a head tucked beneath a chin, jeans that fit just right, the cold side of the pillow, powdered sugar, getting off work or out of class early, hot cocoa, pulling your arms into your sweater for warmth, tearing an orange in half to share, doves cooing, sonny angels

⊹ REO MIKAGE . . . lavender lemonade, expensive chardonnay, an arm around your waist, securing a piece of jewelry on someone else, “you’ve got me wrapped around your finger,” crushed velvet, your lover bragging about you to their friends, the beginning of the weekend, cherry blossom petals

⊹ RIN ITOSHI . . . movies on vhs, “not a lot, just forever,” graham cracker crust, root beer floats with two straws, kept promises, flowers left in the handle of your car door, talking on the phone early in the morning, sharing an umbrella, sleeping in the curve of a crescent moon, cinnamon and clove

⊹ SAE ITOSHI . . . your lover’s initial on your jewelry, fast rides in sleek cars, vanilla and raspberry, rose petal trails that lead to sweet surprises, whipped cream vodka, heart-shaped ponds, private but not secret, naming stars after each other, red string of fate, blindly finding your lover’s hand in the dark

⊹ OLIVER AIKU . . . “kissing a man without a mustache is like eating an egg without salt,” brushing your teeth next to your lover, candid photos, warm summer wind, linking ankles beneath the table, dark chocolate with sea salt, finding your lucky number in a fortune cookie, sandalwood and musk

⊹ ALEXIS NESS . . . heart-shaped sweets, getting lost in a big library, hugs where neither person wants to let go, strawberry ice cream, myths and fairytales from childhood, knuckle kisses, fresh rosemary and basil, making up a language with someone, halloween parties, feeling tipsy off soju

⊹ MICHAEL KAISER . . . ridiculously large bouquets of flowers, matching tattoos, cherry juice, short affectionate messages on postcards, spiced rum and peppermint, a possessive hand on the small of your back, the smell of rain, a pet preferring your presence over someone else’s, bubble baths with candles

[buffetlicious]

The McSpicy burger I have tried it quite a few times over the years. Frankly speaking, I found it a little too spicy for me though in recent time the heat seems to have been toned down or maybe I have grown more tolerant of the spices. When McDonald's Singapore released the new Sweet BBQ McSpicy and a new dessert, it is time to go try them out.

At the self-serve kiosk, I chose the Sweet BBQ McSpicy Feast (S$10.40) which came with the mentioned burger, a medium-sized fries and a Cocoa-nut Pie. Paid S$0.85 to upgrade the cola to a small ice milo. It is still the same old McSpicy that I know but with a sweet and smoky twist and slices of crispy chicken bacon! The BBQ creme sauce adds flavours and toned down the spiciness so I don’t have to keep reaching for the cup of ice milo. Overall, a notch better than the OG McSpicy but for a limited time only.

Now for the cocoa and coconut dessert, the warm Cocoa-nut Pie. The crispy cocoa shell hides the creamy coconut milk and nata de coco filling. It is not too sweet and the chewy pieces of coconut water jellies complements the crispy crust.

Topmost image and video courtesy of McDonald's Singapore.

[plushefemme]

"innocent" housewife feeder concepts- holidays edition ❄️

making the most hearty, butter and cream-laden foods, it's cold out, you need food that'll stick to your ribs and keep you warm

packing a thermos full of rich creamy hot cocoa with your lunch every day

trying SOOO many recipes for various holiday gatherings and i make you my official taste-tester (but you end up having more than a taste, we can't let it go to waste!)

constant baking- endless batches of holiday cookies, bars, brownies, cakes, pies from scratch with all-butter crust.... i offer that you take some of the extras to share with your coworkers but you scarf half of them in the car, i've slowly worn down your willpower and you just can't resist

i take you shopping to get new winter clothes because you've way outgrown last year's, although i insist it's only because i love to see you in a nice new fuzzy sweater

movie marathons, cuddling under blankets on the couch with snacks and eggnog, and i can't keep my hands off your full, softening belly

once i've figured out your all-time favorite holiday treats i make sure there's a constant supply available

and of course, lots of TLC after you've overindulged at a party, peppermint tea, ginger, so many belly rubs, plus shortbread cookies and homemade bread to help "settle your stomach"....

[jibitzlesscrocs]

chris sturniolo x reader

warning : angst , fluff at the end

together on christmas

in which , it finally feels like christmas

“Look at this place!” you exclaimed, pulling into the snowy driveway of the cozy Vermont cabin. You craned your neck to admire the twinkling lights draped across the roofline. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Six-year-old Cody kicked open his car door before you could even finish your sentence, whacking your leg as he bounded into the snow. “Sorry, Mommy!” he called over his shoulder as you grabbed his arm before he could slip.

“Careful,” you warned, guiding him around the car. “I’ll get your sister—stay close.”

Little Amelia whimpered from her car seat, cheeks flushed with cold. You unbuckled her, wrapping her in the thick pink blanket Chris had bought during a fall trip you barely remember now. She snuggled into your shoulder, soft and sleepy.

This wasn’t the Christmas you imagined a year ago. After your divorce that summer, you had braced yourself for split holidays, birthday negotiations, and awkward public encounters. But Chris had surprised you. Instead of whisking the kids to his family or avoiding the holiday altogether, he suggested this—one trip, one house, one united front… for the kids.

Only, he wasn’t here yet.

You’d called the cabin company ahead, just in case. And now, standing in the rustic foyer, trying to corral Cody while rocking Amelia, you smiled politely at the manager. “Thanks,” you said. “We’ll manage fine.”

But the hours ticked by, and still no sign of Chris.

By the time the kids were in their pajamas and dozing off—Amelia curled into your side like always, Cody sprawled out like a starfish on the floor—you’d already called Chris twice. Voicemail. So you called Nick, Chris’s best friend and your emotional support line through this messy split.

“Any sign of him?” Nick asked.

“Nope. Just me and the wine cellar he didn’t tell me about.”

You both laughed, but it was tired laughter. Cody had been rowdy, Amelia fussy, and it all felt like too much. Especially with Chris—handsome, unpredictable, and still very much the man you once loved—MIA.

“He’ll show,” Nick promised gently. “You know he wouldn’t miss this.”

“He already has,” you murmured. “Again.”

When the door finally opened near midnight, you didn’t even look up. You heard the suitcase wheels, the snow-crusted boots, the familiar “Hey.”

You sipped your wine.

“Kids asleep?” he asked quietly.

“They were, hours ago,” you replied coolly, still not meeting his gaze.

“I—my flight got—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, turning to face him. “Don’t give me the airline excuse and expect it to fix everything.”

Chris flinched. “I’m not trying to fix everything. I just thought… I thought we could make this nice. Civil.”

You laughed dryly. “You thought wrong.”

The argument that followed was a dance you’d done before—too much wine in your voice, too much silence in his. Accusations flew like snowballs, but when Amelia started crying upstairs, you shoved past him, holding onto the only thing that mattered: your daughter.

“She doesn’t fall asleep easily anymore,” you whispered, cradling her. “And you wouldn’t know that, because you’re never here.”

Chris stood in the doorway, guilt lining every inch of his face.

You rocked Amelia until she drifted off, kissed her warm forehead, and turned to find Chris still there, watching the two of you like a man outside a window of his own home.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

You nodded. “She looks just like you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I really tried.”

“I know,” you whispered, and that was the problem. You always knew he wanted to do the right thing. But wanting wasn’t the same as doing.

⸻

The next morning, you woke to the smell of toast and cocoa.

Padding down the stairs, you blinked in the golden light. Chris had Amelia perched on his hip, bouncing her gently, while Cody yelled about how he was “the toast boss.”

“What are you guys making?” you asked, tickling Amelia’s belly as you kissed her chubby cheek.

Chris smiled—God, that smile still wrecked you. “Chef Cody’s specialty,” he said. “Burnt toast with extra butter.”

“It’s my thing!” Cody beamed, holding up his masterpiece.

Later, you ventured out together—snow tubing, cocoa in hand, Amelia giggling from your arms while Chris coached Cody like a pro. You were almost convinced everything was… okay.

Until Cody turned to Chris later that evening, asking for a fist bump. “Mommy’s friend Ben taught me that!”

Your stomach dropped.

Chris stiffened. “Ben?”

You shot Cody a warning glance, but the damage was done.

Later, when the kids were in bed and you were wrapping Amelia’s birthday gifts, Chris cornered you.

“So… Ben?”

“Really?” you sighed. “We’re doing this?”

“Are you seeing him?”

You taped the wrapping paper harder than necessary. “He’s a family friend, Chris. You’ve met him. Years ago. Don’t do this.”

“You brought him around our kids.”

You turned to face him. “Because I had no one else.”

Chris flinched, his jealousy boiling under his skin. “You always had me.”

You stared at him, lips trembling. “Did I, Chris? Because I remember a lot of lonely nights and missed phone calls and one too many times I lied to Cody about why Daddy wasn’t home again.”

Silence.

Then: “I miss you.”

You shook your head. “Don’t do this.”

“I never stopped loving you.”

You closed your eyes.

Chris stepped forward, gently pulling you to him. His hands settled on your hips like they’d never forgotten the shape of you. “I miss us. I miss your laugh in the kitchen and the way you look at our kids like they’re magic. I miss waking up with you. Fighting with you. Kissing you.”

His voice cracked. “Please… give me a second chance.”

You looked up at him, heart beating out of control. “I want to. God, Chris, I do.”

He leaned in, lips brushing yours, hesitant but full of aching love.

And when you kissed him back, it was all there. The memories. The pain. The passion. The hope.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “Let’s figure this out. Together.”

You cupped his face, eyes full of tears. “We will.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I promise I’ll never stop showing up.”

“Good,” you smiled. “Because we’re in this for life.”

Christmas morning

You woke to cocoa on the nightstand and the sound of Amelia singing “Jingle Bells” off-key from the living room. The scent of cinnamon rolls filled the air, warm and nostalgic.

You padded to the stairs in thick socks, heart thudding. From your perch, you watched them: Cody unwrapping a sled with a gasp of excitement, Amelia twirling in a too-big Santa hat, and Chris—on the rug, cross-legged, smiling like he hadn’t in years.

He caught your eye.

Something in his face softened. He stood slowly, brushing off wrapping paper.

You didn’t move.

He walked to the base of the stairs, quiet, open.

“Hey,” he said.

You offered a tired smile. “Hey.”

“I made cocoa. The kind you like. With the little marshmallows.”

“You remembered.”

“Kind of hard to forget someone who used to demand them year-round.”

You exhaled a laugh. “That tracks.”

He looked down for a beat, then back up. “I… I didn’t think you’d still be here. This morning.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve given you a thousand reasons to leave.”

“And yet,” you said softly, “you’re the one who always left first.”

That hit. He swallowed, nodding. “I know.”

You stepped down one stair, then another. “Why are you really here, Chris?”

“I told you. For the kids.”

You gave him a look.

He sighed. “Okay. For you, too. For us.”

You stopped just above him. “Us doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Then let me build it again. Slowly. Brick by brick. I’ll earn it, I swear.”

You shook your head. “It’s not just about effort, Chris. It’s about being present. Every day. Not just the ones with fairy lights and presents.”

“I know. I’m not here for the good days only.” His voice cracked. “I’ll be here for the ugly ones, too. The ones where we argue over groceries or I forget to take the trash out. I want to be here for the mundane. For the hard. For all of it.”

You stared at him, heart thudding.

He pulled something from his pocket. A small key. He held it out.

“I don’t want to go back to an empty apartment after this. I don’t want to visit my kids. I want to come home to them. To you. If… if you’ll let me.”

You took the key, fingers brushing his. “Don’t give me this unless you mean it.”

“I mean it,” he said quietly. “Every word.”

You studied his face. The softness in his eyes. The way he looked at you—not like a man trying to reclaim something, but like one who’d finally realized what he should’ve never let go.

“Come outside with me,” you whispered.

He blinked. “Now?”

“Yeah.”

⸻

You stepped onto the porch, wrapping yourself in your coat. He followed, tugging his beanie down against the cold.

The morning was still, snow blanketing the trees in silver hush. You stood there, side by side, watching Cody launch himself down a hill with Amelia screaming joyfully behind him.

“They look happy,” he said.

“They are. Right now, they are.”

Chris turned to you. “I want to help keep it that way.”

You looked at him, eyes glassy.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“So am I.”

“But I don’t hate you anymore,” you added quietly.

“I never hated you,” he replied. “I hated who I became when I stopped showing up.”

You nodded slowly.

He took a breath. “Can I hold your hand?”

You hesitated. Then slipped your fingers into his.

Warm. Familiar. Safe.

After a long moment, you whispered, “If you’re going to love me again, Chris… love me like it’s the first time.”

He looked down at you, eyes shining. “No. Better. I’ll love you like I finally understand how.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like Christmas.

taglist: @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos

MAI’S STORE

i love this

[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley X Reader: Domestic Headcanons: Baking

Warnings: Simon misses his Mum :c, fluffy

Pt.2

Simon has very few fond memories of his family but he remembers how his Mum used to cook during the holidays, and would always involve him in the food prep to distract him from his Dad's foul mood.

After losing his family, cooking just isn't the same without his Mum, and even if he isn't on a mission he tries to avoid being in the kitchen because it just aches for him.

But then you come along, working on base under Laswell and Simon constantly hears you fiddling around in the kitchen. He avoids investigating like the plague for the first few weeks but eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

He finds you covered in flour in mid-October, making a pumpkin pie crust from scratch, and has to just stand there for a moment and watch in befuddlement as you swear at the bowl you just tipped over.

There's something bubbling on the stove, and you're too distracted to notice that your simmer pot is going to boil over. You've got a mix of orange and lemon slices with diced apple and cinnamon sticks. It's just like how his Mum used to make them.

The click of the stove dial has you jumping, having not noticed the shadowy figure of Ghost slipping into the kitchen.

"Heat's too high," he says, and you blink at him in confusion before understanding settles on your pretty face.

"Shoot! I...forgot to turn that down when I..." you gestured awkwardly to the bowl of flour and he tilts his masked chin downwards at you.

You give him an awkward smile before returning to the task of making your dough.

He doesn't leave immediately, just watches you struggle a bit with kneading the dough before he huffs and yanks his gloves off, pushing you to the side as he surprises you by properly kneading the dough, and laying it in the pie pan perfectly.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as you finish making the filling, and add it to the pie crust.

You can hardly believe that you're baking a pie with Lieutenant Ghost. You shrug it off however and pull two mugs from the cupboard, filling them both with the contents of your pot, however, when you turn around to offer him one, he's already gone.

The second time you're in the kitchen making apple turnovers for your co-worker's birthday, the window is open for you to enjoy an early November rainy day, and you're in your coziest pair of socks.

You almost don't recognize him, jumping at the sight of the tall blonde man who has materialized out of thin air to peel your apples. His eyes peek at you over the top of a black surgical mask, and you feel your heart stop, then start up again with a disjointed stutter as you take in the familiar chocolatey color.

He doesn't say anything, just peels the apples until the bag is empty. You reach for the last one and realize there's no Leuitenant to be seen.

The third time he joins you you're trying to perfect your gravy recipe. Most of the base's inhabitants have gone home for the holidays, but the few that have remained are planning a Thanksgiving potluck.

"You're still here." He actually makes you jump.

"Couldn't afford plane tickets for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I'm not missing my Dad's pumpkin log and hot cocoa," you explain

He hums softly, leaning against the counter as he examines your cheese biscuits.

Your eyes widen slightly when you see him pull the surgical mask down just enough to take a large bite of the biscuit he nabbed off the tray.

You're greeted with the sight of a sharp jaw and full lips, and you quickly pull your eyes away, focusing on the gravy in your pot.

Something doesn't taste quite right, and you frown softly. Ghost leans over to take a deep whiff, bumping your shoulder in the process.

"You added salt?"

You offer him a deadpan expression.

"Scoot," he orders, pushing you aside and fishing a spoon out of the drawer. He nods to himself after a taste and proceeds to add a hefty helping of rosemary.

You try not to think about the fact that you've never seen his face before now as you try his concoction. It's not bad. "Where'd you learn how to cook, Ghost?"

He stares deeply at you for a few seconds, before he sets the spoon in the sink. "My Mum."

He leaves you after that, and you doubt you're going to see him at the potluck.

You don't see him in the kitchen again until December, and you're baking snickerdoodles to leave the boys with when you return to your family.

He's avoided the kitchen for a few weeks, and you're strangely relieved to see him lurking there.

"Wanted to give you this before you left."

He holds out a carefully wrapped package, and you accept it with a dumbfounded expression. He's out the door again before you've even thanked him.

A few days later you're sitting in the armchair of your parents' house, a pile of unwrapped presents at your feet as you carefully tear away the paper concealing the Leuitenant's gift. You're greeted with the sight of an old leather-bound book, one filled with handwritten recipes you realize upon closer inspection and an elegant Mrs. Riley engraved on the front page.

You have a feeling Ghost will be joining you in the kitchen more often. Maybe even Simon.

AN: Requests are always open!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hello i love your word lists and i was wondering if i could request one specifically for baking! i need title inspo for a story i'm writing :)

Some Baking Vocabulary

Aeration - the treatment of batter or dough by charging with air to produce increase in volume

Ancient grains - all whole grains are considered ancient because we are able to trace their roots back to the beginning of time

Caramelization - cooking sugar until it’s brown or golden

Chocolate - from the Aztec word xocolatl, meaning "bitter water"; a food derived from the cacao bean fermented, dried, roasted, ground and processed into cocoa powder; a liquor used to make a variety of chocolate products

Citron - the sweetened rind of a fruit

Clarify - to make a substance clear or pure

Courverture chocolate - high quality chocolate used for tempering and glossy coating

Crescent rolls - crescent-shaped bread rolls having a flaky texture

Crushing - formation of dry crust on surface of doughs due to evaporation of water from the surface

Currant - the acidulous berry of a shrub, usually dried and dark in colour

Essences - aromatic compounds used for flavouring confectionery; can be natural or synthetic, or blends of both

Ganache - a rich, smooth mixture of chocolate and cream is used as a filling, frosting, or glaze

Genaese - fatless sponge cake used as base in decorated cakes

Glaze - coat a dessert with a liquid, like melted chocolate, mirror glaze, sugar glaze, etc.

Hearth bread - yeast bread baked in round, oval or free form on hot, flat baking surfaces in an oven

Liqueur - spirits sweetened with sugar and flavoured with essences, fruit juice, or essential oils

Macerate - to soak the fruit in liquid, often sugar or alcohol, to soften it and enhance its flavor

Marble - creating a swirl effect by incorporating two doughs or batters of different colors or flavors together

Mise en Place - a French term meaning “everything in its place,” referring to the preparation and organization of ingredients before baking

Molasses - light to dark brown syrup obtained in making cane sugar

Old dough - yeast dough that is overproofed; dough may have tripled in volume and fallen

Oven spring - the rapid rise of bread dough during the first few minutes of baking due to the expansion of gas bubbles; critical for achieving a good loaf volume and a light, airy crumb

Petit fours - small fancy cakes that can be placed in the mouth in one piece

Plaiting - the weaving of one or more ropes of dough into an ordered design

Ramekin - a small dish made of glass or ceramic that is used for serving baked goods like custards, cakes, souffles, and more

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Word Lists

So glad to hear this, thank you! Hope this helps with your search. Would love to read your work if it does. Otherwise, you could go through the sources, perhaps I wasn't able to include the right word/phrase for you. Also have more food-related posts here :)

[slut4smokemoore09]

Mrs. Annie's Kitchen chapter 6 "It is what it is"

When Evangelize finally came upstairs, everything paused like somebody had hit mute.

Stack, halfway through twistin' a Philly, stopped mid-roll, brows liftin'. Sammie looked up from where he was leaning on the bannister—eyes catching on her like a record skip—but instead of talking, his lips pressed tight, breath stuck somewhere in his chest.

She walked through the living room like a slow jam—hips swingin', steps confident, black halter dress clingin' like it was tailored by a dream. The slit on her thigh hit dangerous, spaghetti straps barely hangin' on. Her curls were big and soft, falling just right, and her lip liner was sharp, mouth glossed like caramel.

Stack let out a low whistle. "Jesus. You sure you goin' to the club and not to snatch somebody's soul?"

Evangelize smirked. "Y'all ready?"

Sammie blinked slowly. Then just nodded, real quiet.

Stack grabbed his keys. "I'm comin' too. Tryna see what these fine Mississippi girls talkin' 'bout. Might be time for me to catch a new sin."

Evangelize turned to Sammie. "You goin'?"

He looked down for a second, then nodded again, voice low. "Yeah. If you goin', I should come."

She raised a brow. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I just... I don't want nothin' to happen to you."

She tilted her head. "That's sweet."

He gave a small smile, then looked away like he couldn't hold her gaze too long.

They piled into the Cutlass. Stack in the back, smellin' like cocoa butter and wild confidence. Evangelize in the front, adjusting her hoop earrings, Sammie quiet behind the wheel, fingers tight around the steering wheel like he was concentrating on keepin' his heart rate down.

"Play Dru Hill," Evangelize said.

Stack popped in the CD. "Tell Me" came on, soft and dramatic.

Inside Club Vibe, everything hit like a movie. Colored lights flashin', the walls sweatin' bass. It smelled like perfume, fried food, and black love. The DJ flipped between Total, OutKast, and Missy like church and sin lived in the same booth.

Evangelize walked in like she owned the place. Stack vanished into the crowd like a man looking for his destiny. Sammie stayed close behind her, not touchin', just hoverin' like a prayer.

At the bar, she ordered a Malibu and pineapple. "You want somethin'?" she asked Sammie.

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm good."

She looked at him for a second. "You always this quiet?"

His ears flushed pink. "Nah. Just... you make it hard to think straight."

Evangelize sipped her drink, a smile tugging at her lips. "You smooth with it when you wanna be."

"I ain't tryin' to be smooth," he said. "I'm tryin' to be honest."

She blinked once. Then looked away, cheeks warm.

They danced, close but not pressed. Sammie didn't touch her much, but every time she moved, his eyes followed like a tide. When her back brushed his chest, he held his breath. When she leaned into him, he bit his lip, looking like he was praying for strength.

Stack came back around 1 AM, grinnin' hard, arm slung around a girl wearing a pink baby tee and low-rise jeans with a belly chain glintin' in the lights. She had dark skin, box braids, and a laugh that made heads turn.

"Her name Tee-Tee," Stack said. "She make them little egg sammiches with the crust cut off and know how to play Spades with no partner. I'm in trouble, y'all."

Evangelize laughed. "You better not fall in love at the club."

"Too late," he said, then winked. "Y'all ride without me."

They dipped out around 2:30. Stack was still inside, lost in Tee-Tee's smile.

Evangelize kicked her heels off in the backseat, legs up across the seat. Sammie drove silently, one hand on the wheel, glancing at her every couple of seconds.

When they got back to the house, Evangelize went inside barefoot, humming Monica under her breath. Sammie followed slowly, staying behind like he wasn't ready for the night to end.

Annie was sitting on the couch, hair in a scarf, TV on low.

She looked up. "Where Stack at?"

Evangelize flopped on the armrest, cheeks rosy. "He stayed behind. Met some girl."

Annie's eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah?"

Sammie cleared his throat. "Yeah. Said her name was Tee-Tee. Real pretty."

Evangelize smirked. "Had on a little pink top, stomach out, bamboo earrings. Stack been grinnin' since he saw her."

Annie didn't say much. Just nodded once and turned her eyes back to the screen.

Sammie slipped off to his room, leaving them in the quiet.

Evangelize kicked her feet up. "She was cute though."

Annie didn't answer at first.

Then, real calm, real soft, she said, "He don't usually stick with nobody after the club."

Evangelize glanced over. "You alright?"

Annie smiled, but it ain't touch her eyes. "Course. Just surprised, that's all."

Evangelize watched her for a second.

Then turned back to the TV, brows furrowed just a little.

And Annie?

She sat there quietly. Jealousy wasn't loud on her—it was slow, hidden, sitting in her chest like a warm weight. She didn't show it. But she felt it.

The screen door creaked loud as hell when Stack stumbled in, leanin' heavy on the frame like gravity hit different after 4 A.M. His keys clattered on the table even though he was tryin' to be quiet, and his laugh—low and tipsy—echoed just a second too long.

Smoke was already sittin' outside on the porch, elbows on his knees, a lit Newport between his fingers, burnin' slow. He didn't look surprised when Stack stepped out behind him, shirt half-buttoned, collar all twisted, eyes bloodshot and glassy.

"Damn, Stack," Smoke muttered. "You smell like the whole damn club."

Stack swayed, blinkin' like the world had gone blurry. "Ain't even that bad. I ain't that drunk."

Smoke looked at him.

"Aight, maybe I'm a lil' drunk," Stack admitted with a crooked smile, floppin' down onto the step next to him. He took a deep breath, and his face changed—like somethin' heavier settled in his chest.

They sat quiet for a beat, the only sound the crickets and the slow drag of Smoke's cigarette.

Then Stack let out a laugh—more hollow this time. "You ever... you ever want somethin' so bad it make you sick?"

Smoke raised a brow. "Mm."

"I ain't talkin' about no new car or some shit," Stack slurred. "I'm talkin' about wantin' somethin' that you know damn well you ain't supposed to have. Like... like it belong to somebody else. But it still feel like yours."

Smoke exhaled slow, eyes stayin' ahead. "You talkin' 'bout a woman."

Stack nodded, the motion exaggerated. "Mmhmm. Real bad, too. Like... when she talk, it feel like she speakin' directly to the space inside me I didn't even know was empty. When she smile? Shit." He rubbed his face with both hands, groanin'. "She smile and I forget how to breathe."

Smoke's lips pressed together. He flicked ash into the tray beside him.

"I tried," Stack kept ramblin'. "I tried to leave it alone. Went out tonight. Met this lil' shorty—bad, thick, lips like heaven—but even when she was on me, my mind was somewhere else. Thinkin' 'bout the way she laugh. The way she look when she mad. That little sound she make when she tired but still tryna hold a conversation..."

He trailed off, lost in it. Then looked at Smoke with wide, glossy eyes. "Ain't that sad, bro? I got her livin' rent-free up here." He tapped his temple. "And I ain't even got the right to feel like this."

Smoke didn't move. But the air between 'em shifted.

"Say her name," Smoke said quietly.

Stack blinked. "Huh?"

"Go on," Smoke said again, voice low. "Say it."

Stack looked down, chuckled without humor. "Damn. I ain't even say it, huh? You already know."

Smoke looked off toward the yard, silent.

Stack leaned back on his palms, drunker than he thought. "I'm sorry, man. I ain't mean for this shit to happen. I been tryna kill the feelin'. Smother it. Drown it. But she... she stay in my chest, dog."

Smoke finally looked at him. His voice was calm, but tight. "You in love with my wife."

Stack winced. "Man, don't say it like that."

Smoke leaned back, rubbing his hand over his face. "You think I ain't noticed? You think I ain't seen the way she light up when you walk in the room? Or how she stop talkin' when you talk, like your voice got priority in her brain?"

Stack said nothin'.

"I been known," Smoke muttered. "Shit... I think she just startin' to realize it."

Stack glanced at him, confused. "You... you mad?"

Smoke gave a short laugh. "I'm her husband, Stack. What the hell I look like not bein' mad?" He paused. "But I ain't stupid either."

Stack squinted. "What you sayin'?"

Smoke sighed, leaned forward again. "I'm sayin'... if she got love for you, and you already love her, then maybe this ain't somethin' I'm supposed to fight. Maybe we don't gotta keep actin' like this ain't real."

Stack blinked, tryna process.

"You serious?" he said, voice a whisper.

Smoke shrugged, eyes heavy. "I ain't sayin' it don't hurt. I'm sayin' it already is what it is. Whether I like it or not. She lovin' both of us in her own quiet way. She just ain't had the words for it yet."

Stack sat still, mouth open, brain workin' slow through the fog.

"You really cool sharin' her?" he finally asked, voice crackin'.

Smoke looked at him, tired. "Not cool with it. But I'd rather share her and keep her whole than pretend like this triangle don't exist and break her heart in half."  

Smoke stood up, crushing his cigarette under his heel.

"Don't make me regret trusting you, Stack."

Stack nodded, barely audible. "I won't."

Smoke looked back at him one more time, voice low. "Get some sleep. We all gon' need it."

He turned and stepped inside, slow and quiet, the door clicking shut behind him.

But what he didn't know—what neither of them knew—was that Annie had been standing just on the other side of the hallway wall the whole time, barefoot and wide-eyed in the dark.

She hadn't meant to listen. She'd heard Stack come in loud, then heard Smoke's voice follow him out, and somethin' in her gut told her not to go back to bed. She stood frozen in that little patch of shadow, heart beating wildly in her chest.

And when Stack said all that stuff... when Smoke said what he said back... she didn't cry. She didn't move. She just stood there, arms crossed tight over her chest, trying to quiet the noise in her head.

Because suddenly, all that confusion she'd been feeling—all the restless nights, the way her chest warmed when Stack looked at her too long—had a name.

She couldn't unhear it.

And now? She had to decide what to do with it.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Jaune: Good Morning Everyone!

Pyrrha: Wha- Jaune? Why are you up and about so early?

Jaune: Well, I just couldn't with it being my birthday and all, and I had some stuff -

Ruby: I Smell Double Chocolate Chunk with Hot Cocoa.

Jaune: Yep! I know what you're favorite is!

Ruby: What- Why would you bake something for me? It's your Birthday!

Jaune: Well, you, and Everyone else, have made this year especially, well, special, So I decided to thank you all!

Nora: So you baked something for Everyone?

Jaune: Yep! I got Wildberry Pancakes with Forever Fall Syrup-

Ruby+Nora: *Sprinting away* THANKS JAUNE BYE!

Jaune: Pyrrha, I baked you Zucchini-walnut bread with a pint of Argus Special Cinnamon Ice Cream.

Pyrrha: That's So expensive!

Jaune: Not as expensive as Weiss' Cheesecake. I had to get Atlesian 90% Dark chocolate, and Fresh Vanilla beans for that.

Weiss: How on Remnant Did you pay for that?!?

Jaune: I had to call in a couple Favors ...

~~~~~ Roman: MMH! That kid sure knows how to make a Pumpkin-Crust Apple Pie!

~~~~~

Jaune: But it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Plus there's Pineapple Upside-down for Yang, I got stuff to make Shaved Ice for Blake since you can't really have it premade, and Wildberry Egg tarts for Ren.

Pyrrha: That sounds like a lot of work! We- How-

Jaune: Just enjoy it. If you want to pay me back then ... I dunno, the arcade always sounds like a cool place to be.

[kwikarecipes]

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