#for something that is bitter or too sweet or too creamy and overwhelming and fills your brain and body with caffeine

[schakira]

@aultaine exactly!!! while it's relatively harmless compared to other drugs, it's just weird to me to be so dependent on consuming it day in and day out. think of the money you spend on coffee! and imagine one day you can't get it anymore! you're gonna be feeling terrible headaches, mood swings and sluggishness on top of everything else. you're letting your life be mildly dictated by a brown drink... think about it! release yourself!!

the older i get, the more i am surrounded by people with a caffeine addiction and it's honestly so crazy. some of y'all really cannot function without coffee for a day... that's not normal!

[tired-truffle]

Arrival Day

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

You pulled up short, staring at the lopsided banner before you. Splotches of vibrant paint adorned the off-white fabric, spelling out ‘HAPPY ARRIVAL DAY!’ in bold, eye-catching lettering.

Had they been waiting on an important shipment? You couldn’t recall anything, but you wouldn’t put it past Jayce to order something impulsively and forget to mention it to the rest of the group. But that wouldn’t help explain the banner. 

“Hello?” you called to the eerily quiet room, your voice echoing off the high walls. 

Shuffling noises around the corner greeted you, muffled voices overlapped and a thud followed by a stumble could be heard, indicating a swift shove had been given. A moment later, Sky appeared, grin wide and bright as she clutched her clasped hands to her chest. Jayce followed swiftly after, his perfectly combed hair slightly askew - leading you to believe he had been the recipient of the shove - grin equally as wide but with a hint of pride and self-satisfaction. Finally, Viktor emerged, his cane resting casually in his hand as he walked, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes betraying his otherwise composed demeanour.

“Happy arrival day!” Sky cheered, clapping her hands. Your lips parted, confusion in the tilt of your brows. Arrival day? You’d never heard of it.

“I nailed the banner this time, right?” Jayce gestured to the fabric above, looking as proud as a kindergartener showing off their artwork. You couldn’t see much difference between the quality of this one and the banner from the celebration he’d thrown for you and Sky a few weeks ago.

“And no fires this time,” Viktor drawled, shooting you a sly smirk that had your cheeks flushing. 

Flustered as you were, you stammered, “I-I…don’t understand.”

“Well,” Sky began, “you don’t remember your birthday, so we thought we’d give you one, or rather an arrival day, since the Gemstone didn’t birth you.” 

A sudden rush of warmth and tenderness flooded over you, catching you off guard. Your heart swelled with unexpected gratitude, but before you could even begin to find the words to express it, Jayce interjected.

“Sky made the cake this time after my last…disaster.” Though thoughtful, his attempt at baking had been inedible. His mother had taken over and remade it entirely, leaving him in charge of only the icing, which had been strangely bitter. 

With a swift, practiced motion, he spun around to the desk behind him, picking the lid off a circular pan, revealing a perfect layer of pure white icing. The smooth and creamy frosting glistened under the light, beckoning with its irresistible sweetness. Beneath it lay a generous mound of cake, perfectly baked and filling the air with a mouth-watering sugariness.

“I…” you cleared your throat, “thank you. I, um, you didn’t have to do anything, but this is all so…kind.” 

Sky bounded up to you, all enthusiasm and open affection as she threw her arms around you in a tight hug. ��But we wanted to. Everyone deserves a birthday party, or, sorry, an arrival party.” 

With a lump in your throat, you returned her embrace, your vision misty with unshed tears. Your laughter was shaky and filled with an overwhelming mix of emotions - too many to name - that threatened to choke you.

As if responding to a silent beckoning - a treat held over a puppy’s head - Jayce materialized at your side. His muscular arms enveloped you and Sky, trapping you between his broad biceps and shoulders. The force of his grip was enough to make your vision blur with spots.

“Arrival day group hug!” he declared, loosening his hold enough to allow you to gulp down air into your flattened lungs. Sky - similarly affected - coughed her relief at being able to breathe once more. “Vik, get over here!” 

Though you couldn't physically see her expression, pressed up against her as you were, you could feel Sky's face heat up in the same deep red blush as yours.

“I will pass on this opportunity, if it is all the same to you.” Viktor had come closer, but he remained distant, reticent to subject himself to the force of Jayce’s hug. 

“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Jayce squeezed again and a low grunt left your throat unbidden. “Come on!” 

“Please, Viktor,” you begged with what little air you had left. “Just join the hug so I can breathe again.” 

With a sigh that lacked any real reluctance, Viktor came into your limited view, blocked by the stray curls of Sky’s messy bun. 

Viktor hesitated for a moment, his amber eyes flickering between you and Sky. Then, with a soft exhale of defeat, he stepped forward and gently wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other around Sky. His touch was light, almost tentative, as if he was unsure of how much pressure to apply. His arm was surprisingly warm against your back, and his cologne, a subtle blend of pine and ink, was uniquely him.

You felt Sky stiffen, her body going rigid against yours. The heat emanating from her cheeks intensified, and you wondered if she might spontaneously combust from the proximity to Viktor. You could hardly blame her, and while you hid it better, you still wanted to squeal your delight and terror at having him so close.

Jayce, oblivious to the tension, tightened his grip once more, squeezing all of you together. "This is what I call a proper group hug!" he exclaimed, his booming voice reverberating through your joined bodies.

“Happy now?” Viktor asked Jayce, to which he received a smug grin. 

“It’s not about me, this is about Mila and her arrival day. But yes, I am happy, thank you for asking, Viktor.” And with that, he blessedly released his hold, Viktor quickly following suit, leaving you and Sky to cling to each other as you regained your oxygen supply. 

You laughed, unable to contain the giggles that started in your abdomen and made their way up and out of your mouth. It quickly became infectious, spreading to Sky and then to Jayce, who chuckled heartily. Even Viktor's lips quirked up in amusement. As the giggles subsided, you found yourself wiping tears from your eyes - tears of mirth, yes, but also of a deep, overwhelming gratitude that threatened to spill over at any moment.

Against all odds, you’d found a caring group of friends. You’d known no one and nothing of this place when you’d arrived a year ago, but you hadn’t been alone for long. With the uncertainty of the future looming overhead, at least you had this moment, happy and content, a reminder of what you were fighting for. 

And fight you would.

Next Drabble

A/N: A little drabble for you all on the eve of the eve of Arcane season 2 finale! Thank you to the lovely members of the discord for the idea <3

[roshiwrites]

helianthus maximiliano

The lights look pretty on your face when we pass under the lit canopies leading into the garden welcome center. Young adults welcome us in, smiling at us in that saccharine-sweet way customer service representatives have, but my eyes are only for you as dark shadows creep along your pale features. You look away from me to thank them, but it’s only for a moment before our hands are joined and we walk past them onto the warmly lit terrace outdoors.

Warm air brushes our faces as we step out, picking up the long strands of messy hair loose from your clip. I smile at something so simple, continuing to watch you as we make our way along the potted plant exhibit.

“You know, the plants are around us,” you say with a smile as you notice I’m still watching you.

I smile, but eventually, I look away to admire the plants that don’t come close to rivaling your beauty. Sure, they’re lovely, but they aren’t you.

Container plants line our way through the twisting path, myriad colors and scents overwhelming our senses.

The coming night is warm around us on this late summer evening. You wanted to visit the garden before they closed for the season, and we’d finally had a night off of work together. Your shifts at the hospital are hard on both of us, and my position at the column means my mornings are early.

We rarely see each other - so why wouldn’t I look at you instead of the flowers?

“Where do you want to go first?” I ask you when we reach a fork in the path. “Left is the children’s garden–” there’s a certain amount of desire lacking in my voice, as neither of us really want to be around children on our day off “–or ahead is the butterfly garden.” You choose the butterfly garden, and for that I’m grateful. 

We continue straight along the path, walking hand in slender hand. Late afternoon draws lazily toward evening, and the sun tracks across the sky in its slow journey through the heavens. When we arrive at the butterfly garden, a family smiles at us. You wave to them as we shuffle around each other, and soon we’re in the greenhouse which plays home to hundreds of butterflies.

“I wonder what it’s like earlier in the day,” you say in wonder as you approach the butterfly bush. Most of the butterflies are hiding, but a few are visible clinging to the netted roof. “What is this plant called?” you ask me, lifting a long cone of small purple flowers. 

I approach so I can peer at the square stems. “Buddleja,” I tell you after a moment. “Butterfly bush. You can imagine why it’s called that.” My column is on plants, and you love quizzing me.

You hum in awe before delicately releasing the flower stem to continue your journey through the butterfly house. It’s small, but there’s a path winding through from one side to the other, lined with plants tall and short. 

We don’t spend too long in the butterfly house. A storm is starting to roll in, which is not unusual in the late summer. The temperature begins to drop, dark clouds form in the sky, and the wind picks up just enough that I can feel it through the screened building.

“Come on,” I say to you as we reach the other end where another screen door waits for us. “There’s a path I want to show you.”

You exit with me, the wind swirling around us as the trees dance in the heavy breeze. There’s a path to our right, leading through a field of sunflowers and back the way we came originally.

As we enter the field, a warm, almost nutty scent fills the air. Sweet, light, and a little creamy, rather unusual for a flower. You inhale deeply of one then proclaim, “It smells like white chocolate! What are these?”

I smile at you, reaching up to brush my fingers along the pale yellow petals and pull one close so I, too, can smell it. You’re right, of course; it smells like chocolate, sweet instead of bitter. It takes me a moment to identify this type of sunflower, but eventually, I say, “Helianthus Maximiliano, or the Maximilian Sunflower.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, looking straight past the flowers and directly at you.

You blush, wind brushing loose strands of hair in front of your face, and I reach out to brush them back behind an ear. “Let’s go home before we’re caught in the storm,” I suggest softly.

[izzabeean]

Chapter 5 : Impulse

SUMMARY

You've learned something you wish you didn't about Ushijima and now you wish you could forget.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,836

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : What can I say, Y/N has a bit of a sweet tooth! I mean if I spent a day in the city you bet I would be eating a lot of food. Or is that just me? Anyway, I am happy with how this turned out! The next chapter is going to be so fun!

Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.

Hope you're enjoying the series so far!

masterlist

<< prev |  ch . 5  | next >>

Today sucks. 

After last night, you didn’t think it could get any worse, but you were so wrong. The sliver of hope that today was going to be a bit better quickly vanished in a matter of seconds leaving your heart even more shattered than you thought was possible. 

So why? 

Why is it that you saw the person you’d love the most with a girl you’d never seen before? As much as you wish it weren’t so, the evidence is right in front of you no matter how many times you try to push the image away. 

Staring down at your soft serve ice cream, nearly melted, you let out a big sigh trying to repress the tears wanting to form. You wish your favorite flavor of frozen dessert could solve all your problems, alas, the rich creamy flavors only remind you of a date you had with Ushijima… 

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” you spout, arms linked with Ushijima marching your way to your favorite ice cream shop. It was this particular spot that made you realize Ushijima is more than what you’ve ever wanted in your life. You’d been dating for six months now, a new record in your love life, also a big surprise you haven’t tired him out with your nonsense.

Instead of arguing whether a cold dessert was an appropriate snack in the winter, he just let out a deep sigh in reply knowing you’re not going to be convinced otherwise. 

“Don’t give me that,” you holler, covering your face in your hands, refusing to look at Ushijima.

Gently, he grabs your hands pulling them away from your face giving you a little kiss on the cheek in apology for his teasing.

“Y/N.”

Oikawa’s voice pulls you out of your bitter memory back to sitting across from him at a cafe. Your heart drops, realizing that there will not be any more moments like that with Ushijima. Did everything always remind you of him this much?

“You’re ice cream,” Oikawa says, eyes locked on to the dessert dripping on your hand. 

Quickly you get up from the table grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess you’ve made which resonates with you very well at this point. Not only are you emotionally a mess, apparently now you can’t even physically get a hold of yourself. Emotional pain is just temporary, yes, yet there’s this overwhelming feeling that makes you think your entire world is closing in on you.

In the process of cleaning up the sticky residue, you let out a growl noticing it’s dripped onto your palish pants producing a humiliating colored stain. You start pressing on the fabric in hopes your mishap would magically disappear… It doesn’t. 

Oikawa peers down at your pants attempting to conceal his chuckle with a titter.

“It’s not funny,” you rasp.

But Oikawa can’t stop himself from bursting into a loud guffaw resulting in a free-flowing of tears. 

Completely exasperated by the chaos, you throw out what’s left of your liquefied treat and sit back at the table covering your face with your hands. You didn’t feel in a rush to embarrass yourself more by strutting around the city with a large smudge of ice cream on your pants.

Once Oikawa gains his composure, he takes his jacket off and passes it to you across the table.

“You can hold this to cover it,” he offers.

The gesture feels loaded, like the true intent is much more devious than that, especially since he seemed to find it so amusing. There’s no way Oikawa could perform such gracious acts of kindness. 

“Take it,” he says. 

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” You reply, shoving the coat away with your hands. 

Oikawa shrugs, “I’ll be fine.”

Giving in to his persistency, you take the jacket. “Thank you,” you breathe.

You watch Oikawa straighten out his shirt and fix his hair as a couple of girls walk by giggling, smiling at him, one even gives a little wave. It puzzles you how Oikawa can be such a dreamboat, from your years of friendship, his reputation borderlines annoying and childish, but the little gestures he’s made today have really made you rethink; this was a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before.

On your way back to the train station, you look out toward the horizon and see the sun setting; pinks and oranges fill the sky, and the sight before you is quite romantic. The scene itself ended up turning out to be soothing despite the alarming encounter from earlier.

Now your new reality is finally setting in where there’s no Ushijima.

“I don’t want to go home,” you utter.

Oikawa studies you with your head hanging low. The glow of the sun coats you in its gleaming rays, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he noticed the light capture a shimmer of a single tear tracking down your cheek. Then it finally resonates with him: you're not okay. 

“Wish I could get out of these pants though,” you laugh. Then just like that, you revert to a smile. 

“Let’s take you out,” Oikawa says.

“Out? Like to a club?” You didn’t fully expect any sort of resolution from Oikawa, your comment was meant to be rhetorical. 

“Yeah! You, me, and Iwa! We never go together and it will be good for you to go out to have some fun!”

“I don’t know about that,” you sigh.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, the look on his face is full of excitement basically begging you to say yes. He must know you’re feeling vulnerable because it doesn’t take a moment more of hesitation to.

------

When Oikawa said he was going to take you out, he really meant it. The nightclub is lavish as loud music pulses in your chest while crowds of people huddle around the bar and scatter across the dance floor. 

Oikawa could be considered an avid clubber, how could he not be when he is so popular with girls, and had always tried to convince you to join him. You never really have, but you’ve also never really had your heartbroken to this degree. 

“It’s about to get even more crowded,” Oikawa yells into your ear.

10:13 pm on a Saturday evening and it’s going to get busier? Oh god.

Crowds aren’t your thing. Clubs aren’t your thing. Drinking isn’t really your thing. What are you even doing here?

“Shots?” Oikawa suggests pointing to the bar.

Your stomach churns at the thought. Diving into the night with shots seems excessive; they always leave a bitter taste in your mouth and the strong smell makes you want to gag. You wanted a drink to ease you into the evening...

“6 shots of Jäger,” Oikawa orders. 

Maybe not so much tonight.

The bartender retrieves the alcohol and brings back six shot glasses, each filled to the rim of dark liquor. Holding the shot glass up to your face, the potent smell makes your nose scrunch. With a cheers, you throw back the alcohol and the sensation burns your throat; it’s awful. Knowing there’s a second shot waiting, you don't delay the inevitable.

“Someone’s eager,” Oikawa purrs watching you down the second shot. 

The corners of your mouth turn down as the hairs on your back stand up. You let out an ick and turn to Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are both in awe of your tenacity.  Truthfully, you were shocked too. Then all the tension in your body seems to disperse, from the day, from entering the nightclub. You finally feel relaxed.

“Am I going to be waiting for you all night? Or what?” You tease eyeing their untouched liquor. 

Both men look at each other and take the shot in one gulp. Calling over the bartender you order another round, this time they’re a lot easier to take.

“You’re really not playing around,” Iwaizumi teases, impressed that you’re able to down three shots in a matter of minutes upon entering the venue.

Shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi, he looks so hot in his black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A warm feeling fills your chest, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol hazing your perception or you were genuinely starting to crush on him. 

Damn it, you think to yourself while your eyes continue to linger on him. 

Considering your current situation, the smart thing to do here would be to do nothing. On the other hand, you couldn’t help that your heart fluttered in Iwaizumi’s presence. Surely, he didn’t realize the meaning behind his words but it brought you lower into the sort of absolution that you were definitely forming a rebound crush on him. But you couldn’t let yourself. Of course, if you did, you were bound to hurt Iwaizumi and your friendship with Oikawa. You had to stop yourself before it was too late.

Oikawa’s eyes fall onto you, noticing your ogling. You seem to illuminate with this glow he hasn’t seen all day and for a split second, he is fueled with irritation at the sight. But catches his outward anger and pushes it down, gaining composure. 

------

Keeping up with Oikawa for most of the night was a bad idea. Certainly, it didn’t occur to you until you stumble into the bathroom all by yourself, realizing you were most definitely unable to stand straight without help. 

Check yourself out in the mirror, you pull out your phone to take a raunchy selfie. You smirk at yourself checking the photo before posting it to your social media story.

That will show him, you think, hopeful Ushijima will see the image you’ve posted. He’s not the only one who can have fun.

Before even pressing “post” you get a text from Oikawa asking where you are. You giggle as you type come find me and press send with the intention of finding him first.

As you leave the bathroom, you begin to scan the crowd for Oikawa or Iwaizumi trying to recollect where you last saw them. The crowds of people in the vicinity make it practically impossible and the further you walk into the nightclub, the louder the music gets, the brighter the lights are, the warmer your body feels. 

All you wanted to do was get out.

Stepping outside, there’s this instant relief from the crisp evening air although it doesn’t last long, and soon a violent shiver courses through you. Turning around to go back inside the bouncer stops you then points to what seems like an endless line of people. 

“B-but, I-I just need to get my jacket,” you stammer.

“Sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait in line,” he booms.

Your outward calmness cracks, too anxious to even think up an excuse. You needed to find Oikawa or Iwaizumi and you need to find them now! 

You turn your attention back to your phone as you begin to type out a text to come meet you outside the club.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” a raspy voice calls out.

You look up and see a rough-looking guy in line making intense eye contact with you. Normally you don’t judge, but your drunk bordering wasted self notes this man was very sketchy and it’s best to avoid him. So you turn your back to him and call Oikawa instead.

“Hey don’t ignore me,” he yells.

You start walking in the opposite direction from the line as far away from the stranger as possible. You’re a bit worried he can still see you and slip into an alley beside the nightclub, the phone still ringing on the other end. 

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!!” You mutter into the receiver. Oikawa doesn’t, so you try again.

“I don’t like being ignored, sweet cheeks.” The same raspy voice makes you jump as you turn around to see the scraggly man backlit by fluorescent streetlights, only making his appearance more menacing. 

The call goes to Oikawa’s voicemail again.

“Guess your friend ditched ya,” he continued walking closer to you. The statement sobers you up as his aura escalates to a more threatening demeanor. 

“They said they’ll just be out,” you squeal.

“Yeah?” The stranger keeps shortening the distance every step. “Why don’t you come with me?”

He’s so close now that you can smell his disgusting breath and you start to panic. “I-I can’t, I’m waiting for someone, th-thank you though.”

Why the fuck did you say thank you? Your brain screams at you.

“Oh come on sweet cheeks,” he coaxes, reaching out to clasp on to your wrist. “I’ll show you a good time.”

Your body freezes at his touch. It stings as a sharp pain from his grip makes you want to scream or cry, but the shock was melting your ability to. You felt so useless and timid in times of distress. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t escape searing clutches of--

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice thunders.

The stranger turns to see the culprit and you slowly glance to see Iwaizumi with an intimidating aura protruding from him. 

“Just having a nice talk,” the stranger purrs, tightening his grip more and you let out a little yelp.

“Is that what this is? She looks pretty scared to me,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“This’ none of your business kid,” the stranger rages.

“Actually it is,” he demands stepping closer. “Let go of her.”

A vein on Iwaizumi’s neck pops out as his hands start to ball into fists. Now the stranger is intensely regretting his choice and you can sense it from the fact he’s visibly shaking. You are nearly on the verge of tears from the pain in your wrist and wonder if he was going to break it.

“Let go,” Iwaizumi orders again.

And this time he does, the man, nothing but a weak buffoon, frees your wrist and walks off in a trudge.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi walks over to you to take a look at your wrist. 

You nod, letting out a deep exhale trying to hide how petrified you were while holding your wrist.

“Does it hurt,” he asks, gently applying pressure to it. “Let me take a look.”

Initially, you flinch at his touch, afraid the searing pain will return, instead, his fingertips lightly trace your wrist while analyzing it thoroughly.

“Let me take you to a hospital to be sure.”

“No, no,” you breathe, locking eyes with him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.

Iwaizumi’s face flickers with a bit of uncertainty but decides not to push it and lets go of your wrist to take out a cigarette.

“Fuck,” you hiss. You felt like an idiot for going off on your own, for drinking this much, for going out at all. “I’m sorry.”

Deeply inhaling the smoke, he turns to you, “For what?”

“For running off by myself, and you totally just saving my ass. It’s just… pathetic,” you exclaim, reverting eye contact with him-- you’re slightly embarrassed and his silence is only telling, considering you barely know each other. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.” 

“It’s not pathetic,” he states, shrugging his shoulders. “Oikawa says you’re dealing with shit.”

Your reaction isn’t short of an embarrassment. His words hurt you as the scenario of Oikawa telling Iwaizumi about your break-up fills your mind. You scoff. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a horrible liar.” Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem calling you out as you stared at him after a few moments of silence. 

“So what am I supposed to tell him?” you mutter, this surge of anger sweeps over you, you feel this swell of rage boiling inside. “That it’s ok to see my ex, not even a day broken-up with a new girl? It’s fucking bullshit!”

He turns to look at you and blinks at your reaction. The sudden unexpected word vomit makes you pause. 

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” you whisper. “It’s just weird, you know, all of it. I didn’t expect to be blindsided like that. It’s just…” You look over to Iwaizumi listening intently to you and feel your face grow hot. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! You never asked.”

It’s awkward and quiet, you’re pretty sure Iwaizumi can feel it too. You’re puzzled with what to say and feel pressured to express a less depressing answer. You didn’t want to drop the mood of the evening. In those moments, it became apparent you needed to sober up.

“Can I have one?” you ask. 

He looks at you with wide eyes, “You smoke?”

You take out your lighter that you have stowed away in your purse flaunting it as evidence of your new bad habit. Iwaizumi tosses you the pack of smokes.

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You’re trying to sound like you’re joking but a hint of worry seeps through and you’re left waiting for a serious response from him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

[sophisticatedloserchick]

Fanfic - Eggnog Confessions - 1/1

Summary: On Christmas Eve Barry and Iris share a bottle of Grandma Esther's famous Eggnog which leads to secret feelings being confessed. Alternate take on Season 1.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1355

A/N: Finishing up some Christmas prompts! Hope everyone enjoys ;)

Barry felt dead tired when he got home after a night patrolling the city.

The cold winter nights slowed him down and being relatively new to having powers Barry struggled to navigate the changing weather. In one night alone he had slipped several times on icy patches and at one point lost control that had him careening through a group of carollers. He found it difficult to get the criminal underworld of Central City to take him seriously lately. He talked to Cisco about getting snow boots or a thermal lined suit but Cisco gave him a look of disgust and disappointment at the idea of adjusting his suit that Barry decided to suffer in silence this winter rather than bring it up again..

Back at his apartment Barry shed out of his suit into more comfortable sweatpants and faded CCU shirt. He went into the kitchen debating on making a frozen pizza or boxed macaroni to eat while he binged watched a documentary series of prehistoric insects. A typical single bachelor's night for him.

Going for the pizza because it was easier Barry popped it into the oven. While he waited his thoughts wandered back to a couple of days ago when he exchanged Christmas gifts with Iris. He allowed himself to submerge into the memories of how her dark brown eyes lit up when she saw the replication of her mother's ring. The smile that spread across her lips had made it all worth it. He loved nothing more than making Iris happy.

Their moment then apruptly ended by the appearance of Eddie.

After that Barry kept his distance for the next couple of days. Barry might be in love with Iris and wanted her to be with him, but he didn't exactly want to be a homewrecker. Though he couldn't deny giving Iris that ring had him dangerously close to crossing a line. Eddie's barely concealed look of disapproval when he interrupted then confirmed it.

Barry resolved that he needed to take a step back. He couldn't be making any moves with Iris while she dated Eddie. He needed to push those feelings down until the time was right to tell Iris how he felt. And he couldn't risk causing anymore rifts in their friendship.

At the same time his oven pinged letting him know the pizza had finished Barry heard a knock at the door.

Barry frowned in confusion since normally no one visited him at his apartment. Joe and Iris usually invited him to the West family home to see them. And he hadn't known Cisco and Caitlin long enough to have them over to his place.

Quickly taking the pizza out Barry sped over to the door to see who it could be.

“Hey Barry,” Iris greeted him when he opened the door.

Seeing her at his doorstep, right in front of him, made his heart ache. Her beauty not for the first time overwhelming him. Her dark brown eyes, and the sweet curve of her lips lifted in a smile when she saw him, snowflakes scattered across her black hair like stars in the night sky.

“Iris?” Barry stood there taken aback, “What are you doing here? Its nearly midnight.”

Iris bit down on her lower lip anxiously and he could see her brown eyes start to mist with emotion. You didn't have to be her best friend to see that something had upset her. Seeing her this way pulled at his heart and suddenly he didn't care how late was. All that mattered is that she came to here to see him.

“Come on in,” Barry opened the door wide to let her in. “I just made pizza if you want any.”

Iris gave him a grateful look as she entered his apartment. He noticed that she carried a small bag with her as she walked in.

“Whats that?” He nodded towards the bag.

With a sly smile Iris reached in to pull out a large glass bottle filled with a creamy white liquid.

“Grandma Ester's special eggnog. I was hoping we could have a bit of a drinking night?”

In no time the two of them had squeezed together on Barry's small couch. Alternating between eating slices of pizza and taking long swigs of Grandma Esther's thick and spicy eggnog. Barry found himself grateful for his healing powers because he'd forgotten the amount of rum in the recipe. Before his powers Barry would get smashed after drinking one mugful. With his powers he could enjoy the warmth that spread through his body without the fear of passing out drunk.

Iris on the other hand definetely became affected. He cheeks darken with a flush and her eyes became bright and glassy. She also struggled to keep sitting upright and in no time had to lean heavily into Barry's side. A different kind of heat spread through Barry's body at the feel of her soft curves pressed against him.

To distract himself from his increasingly naughty thoughts and stop him from embarrassing himself, Barry turned on the TV settling on a black and white version of 'A Christmas Carol'.

“This is nice,” Iris sighed happily as she snuggled in closer to Barry. “I really needed this.”

“Everything okay?” Barry allowed himself to rest his cheek on top of her head.

Iris went quiet for a long time after that. Barry worried she had fallen asleep and he'd be left struggling to figure out how to untangle himself from her.

“Eddie and I broke up,” Iris said quietly.

Barry's heart stopped at those words. Caught between feeling elation at having a chance with the girl he loved and sadness at her potentially having her heart broken.

“What happened?” Barry wrapped a arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

“He wanted me to move in with him,” Iris words slightly slurred the eggnog clearly having taken full affect, “But I couldn't...”

“Why not?” Barry asked feeling something twist in chest at her words.

Iris gave a half shrug before saying, “Because of you maybe. We got into a fight and he said you had feelings for me.”

Barry glanced down to see Iris's fingers were twisting around the thin gold chain of her necklace and touching the ring Barry had given her for Christmas.

“Oh...Really?” Barry tried to sound casual and unaffected but in reality his heart jack hammering in his chest. “That's crazy.”

“And it made me wonder,” Iris continued her words thick and sleepy. “Maybe he's right about your feelings...and my feelings for you too?”

Barry felt as though the whole world came to sudden stop at those words. Since he was twelve years old he hoped and imagined for the moment when Iris could confess her feelings for him. Though he had to admit he never thought it would happen after they had ate an entire pizza and drank far too much alcoholic eggnog while watching a Christmas movie on his cramped and nearly falling apart couch.

“Your feelings for me?” Barry finally choked out. “Iris what do you mean?”

When she didn't answer Barry turned slightly to look at her. Hoping to find some sort of answer in the expression of her face. To his great disappointment he found her fast asleep on his shoulder.

Just his rotten luck. Barry thought to himself, the girl of my dreams confessed her love to him then fell asleep.

But his bitterness over the situation didn't last long. They should probably talk things over when they were both sober. He rather Iris remember confessing her love for him. He resolved he wouldn't make the same mistake again. He wouldn't keep his feelings for Iris to himself and silently watch from the sidelines her date someone else.

But he'd still appreciate this moment as a small Christmas miracle given to him by Grandma Esther's eggnog. Barry glanced outside his window to see snow falling blanketing the city but inside his small apartment he felt nothing but warmth. Snuggled in close to Iris's side watching old Christmas movies had to be the best way to spend Christmas eve. And he had a feeling tomorrow's Christmas would be one to remember.

[losing-my-will]

A Railway Named Desire

A/N: Yes, like the movie “A Streetcar Named Desire” Though it’s not inspired/based on it. I just borrowed the title and played a bit with it. I recommend that film.

Summary: Hiccup and Astrid fight before embark their trip towards Valka’s home to spend New Year. Soon enough, they find the solution in the metallic wagon’s inner. One-shot. Modern AU. NSFW. Hiccstrid.

.

.

She was so fucking angry.

She kept trotting through the poorly lit hall and its smell of piss and its moldy patches scattered on the floor. Teeth sank on her bottom lip, scarcely retaining the boiling irate even though outrage seeps lower on her insides.

Crossing the control zone, delivering the tickets and entering in the train shrouded on a foul mood. Not a glimpse from the joyous love bubble the pair was spotted half hour ago. Because yes, she’s to remember her boyfriend walking behind her, his ghastly limp with him, and she wants to stop and let the worry flood her. But she’s awfully angry.

Their room is small, of dark wood and tinges of bogus gold running the threshold and window frame. There’s a single bed at the left, and a cabinet attached to the right to snug their stuff.

“Let me…” Hiccup shyly says, after placing his bag onto the metallic shelves, Astrid senses his intention, so she quickly plucks her own bag away from his reach.  

“I can handle my things.” She bites back, lifting her bag and lodging it, and it’s a bitter reminding than a grumpy advert.

His shoulders slumps in defeat and partly disappointment. Hiccup knows better than anyone on not push beyond those words, limiting himself in a silently nod of the head and stiffed jaw.

Both lovers sat awkwardly and taking each side end of the mattress. It wasn’t exactly how they’d planned on spending their trip, the majority ideas involved weren’t creative and they mostly coincided on a steamy ambiance and husky whispers and heated gropes. They were already heading in that motive since leaving the taxi; hand in hand and entering on the station, laughing, kissing and fooling around.

And then bloody bazars occurred. Christmas just days ago left its traces, the town in which they move after betrothing usually gets too enthusiastic with the decorations. And there isn't other time of the year in which Astrid Hofferson’s inner little child comes out as an overwhelming spirit of the festivity, demanding and sprawled with the excitement filling her to the brim.  

It’s adorable sometimes, unbearable when stretch to a peak. But she was his girlfriend, her soon-to-be-wife, and he loves her so much it broads his heart and makes his pulse race.

But an hour ago her behavior was hellish. They were calmingly strolling towards the train, until Astrid halted suddenly; a fat, smiling Santa, that’s what caught her attention, it stood there with twinkle greyish eyes and holding its torch, fully displayed from the glassy showcase.

She crossed the threshold with a single goal in mind… but ‘pompous red waves and uneven tan’ stomped in and shoved her aside with wallet and cash in hand.

The more she recalls the incident the more sense Hiccup’s actions have, yes, it was wise he’d grabbed her from the waist before earning a banning of the store and probably of the station –though it wouldn’t be completely her fault- Gods, she’s twenty four, soon five. What’s she, a goddamn bratty child?

Yet, despite her boyfriend’s good heart and kind motives, yanking her out and yelling at her triggered the boiling churn in her stomach and hurt her pride too.

The rustle of the wheels was the only noise slicing through the thick silence between them. How he could start? Well, he tried to apologize, but he went half way stammering a feeble speech. Astrid determinably scowled at him, and decided to ignore him or reply curtly.

In the years he’s spent with Astrid, a little space to clear the mind was better option than jumping in a solution with a hectic head. That doesn’t necessarily mean rule out soothed words and amends.

For now, they could only stare at nothing and immerse in their thoughts.

Shit, he’s gonna die alone.  

His pocket buzzed strangely, until he realized it’s his phone. Weird, he remembers turning it off. Pressing the button the screen flashed with a notification.

Scott ‘snot’ His cousin

Hiccup’s thumb slides across and unblocks the cellphone.

Scott ‘snot’ 18:57

Hey :) Cusie.

Henry 18:58

What?

Scott ‘snot’ 19:00

You’re on board?

Henry 19:01

If you mean on the train, yes.

Scott ‘snot’ 19:02

Good, are you busy?

Henry 19:02

No.

Scott ‘snot’ 19:03

Are you both not even fucking?

Hiccup recognizes his wounded male pride, but that’s stupid so he sweeps it away.

Henry 19:04

What do you care?

Scott ‘snot’ 19:07

Virgins

Henry 19:09

What is it, Snot?  

Scott ‘snot’ 19:10

Given you’re not doing nothing, and probably Astrid’s dying in boredom.

Hiccup rolls eyes and sighs loudly in exasperation.

Henry 19:10

Fuck off.

Scott ‘snot’ 19:10

A pleasure of me of gifting you a tutorial

Henry 19:11

Snot, srly. Fuck off.

Hiccup felt a shift at his side. Astrid. She’s assessing her nails, and her blonde hair works as a curtain hiding her profile.

Scott ‘snot’ 19:13

No fun cus

But really I’ve smthing you might be interest

A video, I just sent it

Henry 19:14

Better not be prank

Scott ‘snot’ 19:14

We’re not kids.

His brows shoot upwards, ‘Says the man who still laughs at cock jokes’. He took a long inhale. Before play the video, he makes sure of Astrid. She’s fine, her knees almost touching his though. Did she scoop near to him?

The video’s thumbnail can’t hint anything bad, but coming from his cousin it’s enough to be suspicious.

“Yes! Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes! AH!”

“You like that?!”

“Harder!”

“You like it slut?! Your cunt fucke-!”

Of course it'd to be porn.

His face raises some degrees, he felt suddenly awkward with a mix of feelings; annoyance, shame, -arousal, even if he denies it-. He quickly texted Scott;

Henry 19:20

Very mature!

Scott ‘snot’ 19:21

You saw it?

Henry 19:21

What do you think?

Scott ‘snot’ 19:21

Well, that one’s my favorite

Henry 19:22

Not funny! And fuck off!

Scott ‘snot” 19:23

Bon voyage ;DDD

“What the fuck, Hiccup?”

Shit.

“Scott.” He only says. Astrid grimaces, she half-hates his cousin. Probably now thinking he’s stupid for fall for it.

“You’re stupid.” Yep, just how Hiccup presumes it. When he faces her, her expression is wrapped in wrathful.

“I know,” he answers dryly.

“Like, really stupid.”

“Yes, I get it!” Then he winces.

There’s another shift, and her legs intertwines with his, “I’m given you a hard time?” she teases.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want us fight, babe.”

“Yea-”

“So ask my for forgiveness.”

He snorts. Astrid too, her head’s tilted imprinted with a banter smirk.

“Where’s the joke?”

“I’m the joke.”

She hums, “You’re mine joke.”

“I can live with that.”

They chuckle. Then Hiccup clears his throat.

“Forgive me, please,” he took her hands, more confident she’ll not withdraw them.

“Hiccup, babe, you did what you thought was right, and though I wanted to butchered you and hack your head off your body, I understand to a point. However,” she smirks darkly. “Do that again and maybe something’ll gonna be missed in our next fun moment.”

He swallows, but nods otherwise. “Written down,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry, love. It wasn’t my intention of carry you like-”

“…A ragged doll?”

He nods.

“It’s okay, Hiccup,” she insist, but he shakes his head denying. “Just don’t do that again, or it’ll be more serious consequences,” she warns.

“I’m sorry, and I love you.”

Knuckles and thumb supports his weight of one side, with the left he caress her silky cheek. Holding neared bashful glances, their faces crimson and coyly smiles tugging lips. Hiccup finds himself just as enthralled as Astrid. Her beauty is something he’ll never gonna truly get used to; every peek at her sky-blue eyes, at her smooth skin he knows very well how glows in the mornings, her sweet smiles and gracious giggles, every detail feels like the first time.

He’s never guessed how she looks at him, what he thinks of him. Must be something really good so to stick with him and make him worthy of her eyelash’s flirty fluttering, of the melody of her voice, her quiet gasps and gradually loud moans at dawns, and sunsets, and nights.

To welcome him within the valley of soft mounds of swelled flesh. Of fitting him happily between her toned creamy thighs.

The light flashes a bit, and the wagon’s shake triggered a sway of her breasts, which hasten him to look at it. The linen white blouse flows freely with the cool wind from the open window. And yet another bid drags utterly his attention.

They stand, pushing through the fabric, a glimpse of their pinkish color –‘thanks oh bloody illumination’.

He raked his eyes upwards her sharps collarbones, her long neck, and catches the thick gulp she has made. They interlock blue and emerald once more.  

Astrid proceeds with the first assault, unable to resist the strained binds.

She clashes her mouth with his, a kiss languorous and slow at first. They separate and graze each other’s lips, occasionally exhaling warm breaths. His tongue creeps amidst his teeth, and she questions why isn’t already shoving into her and tangling with hers.

The palm touching her cheek descends and cradles her nape, before sighing contently and press on the corners of her mouth, she opens it instinctively and strife in search for his chapped lips. Hiccup eludes her tries and starts peppering open-mouthed sloppy kisses across her nose first, coddling her light freckles over there, her jaw, and he lingers behind her ear, ‘fuck, I love you so much’ he whispers. He then travels down the column of her throat, tasting her sweetness, getting drunk with her whimpers.

“Hic-!” he sucks her right where the skin throbs. “Yes!”  

He fidgets with the first buttons, exposing her chest for further access, and Astrid helps him despite her maddening state of pleasure, even though her rickety state. Their fingers collide pulling the collar open; in their eagerness they almost tore the cloth apart. She laughs, because she can, because she’s in love and wants to make love to this beautiful, stubborn, reckless man she’d the pleasure to meet and be betrothed.  

“Touch me” she says, and it sounds lame to her ears, and not half of her inner desires were voiced. But she gives a crap, there’re much ways to express it.

He raises his head, gifting Astrid a condescending smirk, “You wish that?” he asks, tracing his fingertips on her collarbone, “You do? How, Astrid?” his nails scrapes down what lets the cleavage see.

“I need your kisses, I crave for your touch, I want you entirely, babe,” she mumbles it against his forehead.

Then again he claims her mouth whilst his hands kneed her ass, her hips, and her inner thighs. She moans, and it’s a noise so rich and fucking enticing that he swallows it. He sees himself in keen urgency of archive everything that’s Astrid; her essence, her soul, her mind and body. She’s a precious he thought unattainable. And yet, she’s here with him, and they're pouring their love in heated gropes and thirsty kisses. Right, she’s not a trophy, and it’s only a miracle she dates him firstly. At the same time, he wants to unravel her; shred her in blisses pieces with him within her, to only reconstruct her once more and again, again, again.

“Get naked” she commands, and those only sharps words reminding him how willingly he can be her slave, and never has to forget how strongly and independent she is. And if she wants something, she’ll have it.

“Gladly.” He shags off his t-shirt, throwing it somewhere on the room’s floor. She tossed hers, and Hiccup can understand why he’d saw so clearly her breasts, “When you took it off?” he asks, referring to her bra.

“Oh. Remember when we went inside the coffee shop right after getting out the cab? And I said I needed the restroom?”

Realization struck him, making his jaw slack and wide in a silence ‘O’. He recalls her walking out the door with a mischievous glint he couldn’t fathom.

“Minx.” He accuses.

“Oh, Hiccup.” She laughs, “And you’re saint.” Taking hold of his clothed erection; she massages it.

“Astrid,” he moans.

“You like it?” she asks just like in the video. Her boyfriend’s eyes widen in horrid.

She laughs and kisses him again, “Come on. Let’s beat those porn stars.”

“Stop,” he groans and it mingles with her chuckles.

Her small, caring palms cupped his jaw; attractively squared and bush barely growing, but itchy otherwise, “Let’s unite tonight”; they delved in a gives-butterfly-kiss, caressing each other needy

“Gods you’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“So are you,” she crooked her fingers on his waistband teasingly, after playing with the reddish hair of his pelvis, “I remember saying you to get undress.”

“And I remember being raised a gentleman. So, ladies first.”

She swatted his forearm, but leaned on her back sighing, “Such polite you say you are, have the pleasure.”

With gleaming eyes, he roams her bare chest, heaving exhilarated. He took his jeans, unbuckling and sliding them downwards his skinny legs. Then positioned himself in the space of her spread legs. He planted kisses here and there whilst his dexterous and very long fingers unzipped her shorts, and then pulling of it ardently.

“Fuck!” she shrieks breathlessly as chill air kisses her limbs.

“You’re soaked wet,” he says flabbergasted peering her exposed underwear while takes off his shoes and hers before finishing undress both.

“What do you think, muttonhead? I’ve needed you since we left the house. And even after we discussed.”

He swipes his index through it, triggering a throaty moan from her, “Foreplay?”

“Just fuck me.”

Hiccup lowers his body until he’s laying on his stomach as his elbows -placed below her knees- supports his weigh. He nibbles her inner thighs carefully, grazing above his teeth on the whitish skin.

“Yes.”

He parts the swollen, pink flesh, and dips his tongue in the slit.

“Yes!”

The taste is erotic as ever; musky, slick, and a hint of strawberry due her intimate soap for there. He circles and presses occasionally, prompting gasps from her. When he finds her clit, it’s a whole different story.

“Fuck yes!” she springs as he sucks the little bundle, a bit of her sprays on his chin, and he really can’t be more possible enamored.

“Like that you like that” he comments, continuing by licking the junction of her leg and thigh.

“D-don’t stop, p-please.”

“Never,” they find each other’s eyes; obscured and filled with an irresistible desire, he looms above her pelvis smooching the curly blonde hairs, “You’re so…Astrid.”

Her eyes roll back her skull, releasing an unhinged whimper.

Guaranteed she’s ready; Hiccup lifts his upper body, dragging himself over her, rubbing his body with hers, “Think we’re ready?”

“I have been for a while; I’m just waiting for you.”

Being betrothed, and assured to spend their lives together, condoms usually weren’t solicited. Except that Astrid’s on the pill, just in case.

“Hurry up, babe.” He positions, bracketing her lithe form in his arms whilst her legs and knees crooked around his shoulders, “Fuck me, Hiccup, please” she urges, pulling him closer. His head skims her folds, and it’s overwhelming for both young lovers.

“Fuck,” he says in gritted teeth.

“Fuck my brains out.”

“Astrid!” Hiccup scolds.

“Sorry.”

He wraps himself in his left hand, guiding through the heated flesh. At her entrance, he pushes; inch by inch.

“Yeeeesss.” Her spine bows upwards pushing her breasts near his mouth, ‘gods, I’m blessed’ he thought.

Once he feels his head’s touching deep her cavern, he retracts, and slams back in.

“Oh my god!”

After that first assault, he rotates hips, penetrating shallow and slothful. His mouth catches one of her nipples, and nuzzles the cute bud. Because yes, he really thinks they’re cute.

“No, no, no. We’re not lazy today. You can make love to me other time, babe,” she complains.

“Oh, come on, Astrid.”

She narrows eyes and squeeze down muscles, making him stumbled.  

“Fine,” and he kisses her sweetly before groping her rear and settle more firmly on his knees, “Let’s unite tonight” he repeats her earlier words. Tightly grabbing her hips, he resumes thrusting a bit tough in the molten velvet he’s within.

“Mmmm, like that.” One of her hands that isn’t fisting the blanket frees her braid and massages her neck down to her left breast, “Hmm yes, Hiccup.” She grinds back assisting him, moaning as his pace increases.

The mattress’s levers below them screeches, the room ascends some degrees, and they don’t feel the breeze anymore, only attending their warms breaths and exchanged panting, “Gods, Astrid” he mumbles as he fixates on her ricochet chest.  

“Indeed,” she chuckles. And she’s so lost in him; his black-emerald, loving stare, his disjoin lips praising her between solid thrusts, his slender, yet strong limbs nestling her, her rough hands clutching her backside as he pushes heartily, and she swears he’s not sexing her body and her for the sake of pleasure, but at the same time imploring her soul and shielding everything that’s her, “Fuck.” Indeed, he seizes her heart.

“Agh” he strangles in his saliva. Because he can’t stand it, it’s freaking addictive and he doesn’t want this to end; not a bit. Not yet. It’s too perfect, but then he wants her to reach the peak, and of course he pursues that goal for himself.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ah, ah”

“C-close?”

She nods, “Y-y-you?”

He nods too.

Hiccup continued spearing her wildly; hips bucking and hers snapping against his in unison. A perfect union; emotions poured and skin coated in sweat, saliva and other fluids, their love and passion ravaging them physically, running through their dopey veins. Gods, it was so intoxicating, and hearing that sloppy-squishy sound they always create right where they connect. Yes, it’s asphyxiating; it is lust, fondness, and deep, deep affection for each other blended equitably.

And the climax? The climax is amazing.

“Hiccup! Hiccupp! Nghh-!” his length touches spots she hardly knows she has, but he reaches, and she’s thankful for that, and for now, his stoking’s pretty good.

“Y-you the-re?”

“Yeah!”

And affirming her words; her slicks walls flutters and coaxed his thick member further, one hand on the sheets, the other snagging his forearms, she comes; howling, scratching, panting like she’d just ran a final. Her legs clamped tightly around his skull, but sure Hiccup can die ecstatic. She felt her owns fluids leaking, but she doesn’t give a shit. She’s touching the sky, seeing the stars with shut eyes. Admiring her man once she’s opening them slowly. And oh the view…

Above her, the light makes its magic, sharpening angles, illuminating beads of sweat, messy hair swaying and following the movements of its owner, Hiccup’s watching straight at her, though trying his best with lidded eyes, but seeking her. 

She smiles, feeling completed, feeling satiated.

And then he comes; shoving harder –bending more her legs- and crying out versions of her name just like she did seconds ago; “Oh gods Astrid! You feel so good!” he says above his lungs. She admires that too, that fervent love of his for her. He grinds frenetic ensuing for that primal need, and groaning for the last time it’s when he spills, balmy and sticky, she mewls at the feeling of his seed swelling her.

“You good, babe?” she purrs.

“Excellent.” They shared a supple kiss, in knowledge how each can end sensitive after one session. Whilst Astrid untangles her legs from his neck, Hiccup rubs her shoulders tenderly.

“I’m sleepy,” she murmurs.

Lights out, cleaned and spooning under the sheets, both lovers bask in their afterglow; breathing softly and enjoying the quietness.

“Astrid.” Hiccup spoke, “I’m sorry… for what happened in the store. It wasn’t appropriate, and I only ashamed you”

She sighs, “It’s okay. It is good you recognized your mistake. Yeah, it was stupid…” yawns, “…Half my fault, but as long it doesn’t repeats”  

Hiccup nods, and kisses her hairline, “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

.

.

A/N: First smut I have ever written. I did this to practice  

[master-thief-gray-shadow]

A Real Life Coffee Shop Romance

Chapter 3

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Summary: Sayo isn’t one for fancy coffee. But she does trust Tsugumi’s taste.

Notes: At this point I would like to thank my friend @lovestruckbear for help with some details, genuinely would not be able to work out some stuff in this fic without your coffee expertise.

Reluctantly, Tsugumi raised the freshly brewed coffee to her lips. Even on a Sunday like today, the shop was always quiet right after opening, which gave her a small window of time to make something for herself. Normally she would make something sweeter, but she had realized that this was a great time to practice making americanos. This was smoother than the one she made yesterday, and she could actually taste the chocolate and caramel notes in the roast, but it was still bitter, and it made her grimace.

“What? Tsugumi-san, are you not drinking a mocha today?” Turning around, Tsugumi noticed Eve standing behind her, looking worried. “That’s black coffee, isn’t it? But you don’t like black coffee.”

Tsugumi just smiled at her. “No, but I want to get better at making it. I can’t really tell how much I’m improving if I don’t test it, can I?”

A look of determination fell over Eve, the one that indicated she was shifting into full bushido mode. “Tsugumi-san,” She said, her fist clenched, “There is no need to force yourself to suffer like this. I will taste the coffee for you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Tsugumi said with a small laugh as she set the cup down. “This is kind of a personal thing, so I have to be the one to taste it.”

“Ah, I understand,” Eve said, nodding sagely. “There is something driving you towards perfection, and you are doing whatever it takes to achieve it, even at your own expense. The essence of bushido!” Eve returned to her earlier task of setting out muffins that had been made earlier for display, but didn’t seem quite ready to drop the subject yet. “What inspired you so, by the way?”

Tsugumi hid the rising blush on her face with her hand. “Somebody told me they liked the way I make black coffee the other day,” She said, perhaps a little too quietly. “It made me want to get even better, you know?”

“Of course!” Eve stood up, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Nothing can inspire such intense passion like love can!”

“Oh, no no, it’s not like that,” Tsugumi said, waving her hands fervently in front of her. “We’re just friends, nothing more.” Why did everyone assume there was something romantic going on? Sure, perhaps the idea was a fun little fantasy, but the reality of things was a lot less exciting.

“Oh, I see.” Eve sounded almost disappointed. “Still, good luck Tsugu-san! It’s clear that you’re putting your feelings into this, and I hope they can reach whoever has inspired you like this.”

Tsugumi smiled, holding back a wince as she took another sip of the coffee. Even in spite of the smoothness and flavor notes it was still so harsh...how could Sayo drink something like this, much less enjoy how she made it? It puzzled her, frustrated her. Tsugumi possessed a barista’s palate from years of getting to know coffee through taste, so if she could barely taste the flavor through the overwhelming bitterness, what was the appeal for a layman like Sayo?

“I hope so.” She really, really hoped so.

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

The next day, with school having once again resumed, Tsugumi knew to once again expect Sayo in the afternoon. While waiting she had prepared one more dark roast americano, and had somehow managed to finish the entire cup. Today she had managed to pull it for just the right amount of time, with the bitterness being at a tolerable level, but that was just it. Tolerable. She knew that Sayo just didn’t know better when it came to coffee, but she deserved better than this. Tsugumi leaned on her elbow and sighed, before the sound of the bell snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Sayo-san!” She said, ignoring the way her heart started beating just a little faster. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, Tsugumi-san.” Tsugumi was still not over the way Sayo said her name. The softness of her voice, the way she clearly spoke each syllable, it was like she felt privileged to even say it.

“Will you be having your usual?” Even as she asked this Tsugumi felt her stomach tying itself into knots. Sayo had said she liked her black coffee, she really had, and she probably did mean it, but…

“Actually,” Sayo’s eyes drifted downward, a slight pink color rising in her cheeks, “I want to try something else today.” Sayo looked up again, her eyes now looking straight into Tsugumi’s, warm and swirling with tiny lights. “Tell me, what do you usually make for yourself?”

“Wh...what?”

“Surely you sample your own craft,” Sayo said with genuine curiosity. “You do take pride in it, don’t you?”

“O-oh! Yes, of course!” Tsugumi felt like her soul had departed from the mortal plane and was rapidly ascending. Sayo wanted to see, to taste her more passionate work. She was standing in front of her, asking her to pour her soul out into a coffee cup.

And she was overjoyed to oblige.

“Well, my favorite drink is a cafe mocha. Most people just call it a mocha latte, though.” It was extremely, extremely difficult for Tsugumi not to start vibrating with excitement. She was going to make her favorite drink. For Sayo. Her heart was positively racing, and she was almost afraid it would simply leap out of her chest.

Sayo looked contemplative as she raised her eyes to the menu above the counter, presumably reading the drink’s description. “A latte with chocolate…” She said, her voice almost hypnotically soft. “Is that sweet?” Their eyes met as she lowered hers again, and Tsugumi swore she felt...something in their connected gaze.

Some kind of...spark.

“It’s a little sweet,” Tsugumi said, and wondered if Sayo could see the sparkles that were surely filling up her eyes by now. “It’s mostly smooth and creamy, though. It’s nice.” Tsugumi just stood there and smiled, watching Sayo’s thoughts swirl behind her eyes.

“I think...I think I’ll try that,” She said, reaching into her bag for her wallet. “And a slice of marble cake, as well.”

“No, don’t bother paying,” Tsugumi waved her hand. That same sort of confused look fell over Sayo’s face, before she closed her eyes and sighed as she put her wallet away again.

“This is a business, you know,” Sayo said. “You need to make money somehow.” Even though she was showing that overly critical side she was probably better known for right now, her voice was still soft and warm, full of affection.

“We have other paying customers, don’t worry. You’re just a special exception.”

Sayo blushed ever so slightly. “I...see.” She looked off to the side, seemingly trying to process the current situation.

Tsugumi laughed gently. “Don’t overthink it, it’s no big deal,” She said, watching as Sayo’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “Go have a seat, I’ll get your order ready.”

Tsugumi took a moment to watch as Sayo made her way to her usual spot by the window, before turning around and getting to work. A cafe mocha. This was practically her signature, she could make one of these in her sleep. Humming softly to keep her focus and not let herself be overwhelmed by excitement, she once again started the process of making the building block of every coffee beverage: the espresso. This was dark roast coffee was meant for, she thought as she measured out the beans into the grinder. She would use the blend she normally used with Sayo’s order, and now when paired with the cocoa powder its character could shine through a little more.

Taking out the portafilter from the espresso machine, she moved to position it under the chamber, now full of fresh grounds. Pour out some grounds, even them out, tamp them down. Soon enough the grounds were packed tight and solid, machine-ready. Snapping the now full portafilter back into the machine, she grabbed a cup and placed it under the group head before hitting the button to start the pulling process. After about thirty seconds (Tsugumi had done this enough times that she no longer needed a stopwatch by now) a deep brown liquid had settled at the bottom of the cup. Pure espresso. The smell of coffee now permeated the air around her, filling her lungs, granting her its energy without even needing to drink it.

The next step was the cocoa powder. Tsugumi loved how well chocolate and coffee paired together, not just in drinks, but in general. One of the cakes her mother would make sometimes, a chocolate pound cake, actually used coffee grounds in the recipe, and it gave it such a rich, earthy flavor that matched the dense and moist texture nicely. It seemed like something Sayo might be into, come to think of it. She did know how to make it on her own by now…

Realizing she was getting distracted, Tsugumi shook her head and measured out a scoop of cocoa powder into the cup, stirring it into the espresso with a whisk. Soon it was blended smooth, the faint aroma of chocolate starting to mingle with the coffee.

She set the whisk aside and grabbed the small metal jug used for the milk. Not much was needed, the foaming process meant that a good amount of the volume would be taken up by air. Activating the steam wand, she inserted it just under the surface of the milk, watching as the surface began to swirl and twist into a tiny whirlpool. Soon bubbles had formed on the surface, so she carefully moved the wand deeper to ensure that the air would properly mix into the milk. The jug had grown warm in her hand by the time the process had finished, leaving the milk smooth and steaming.

After wiping the wand clean, she poured out most of the milk into the waiting cup. Most, not all. A small amount was needed for the final step. She once again picked up the whisk, blending everything smooth into a pale brown color. It was almost finished. All that remained was to mark the latte with her signature. For most cafe patrons Tsugumi would make a simple heart or leaf. She did practice more complex latte art, of course, but the thing about it was that it was art. It was a glimpse into her soul, and her soul was terribly unassuming and plain, much like the rest of her. But…

She glanced over at the window to see Sayo, once again framed by the setting sun. Her breath caught in her throat.

If there was anyone she wanted to see her soul, it was Hikawa Sayo.

Picking up the jug again, Tsugumi got to work on a more complex design she’d stumbled upon a couple months ago and had been practicing on and off since. It started with a ring of small petals along the outside of the cup, followed by another ring inside, this one with the petals overlapping with the first ring. More rings were added, growing tighter, until the design was finished with a singular, circular dot at the very center. Tsugumi set the jug down and took a moment to admire her work.

A cafe mocha, topped with a milky white camellia.

Delicately, Tsugumi set the mocha onto a serving tray, and left it there momentarily to get the other part of Sayo’s order. With the cake now plated and ready, the moment of truth was approaching. Tsugumi put everything she could into controlling her heartbeat and her breathing, not wanting to clumsily ruin her hard work in the throes of anticipation. She came close when Sayo perked up upon her approach, but somehow managed to steady herself.

“Here,” She said, setting the items down in front of Sayo. “Be sure to tell me what you think, okay?”

Sayo simply nodded before focusing her attention on the latte. She was just...looking at it. Staring thoughtfully, as if admiring a painting in a museum. A long moment passed before she spoke up.

“Do you make designs like this every time you make this drink?” Sayo said, still admiring the flower.

“Um...n-no,” Tsugumi said, now having sat down across from her. “Normally I do something simple, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time since I’m not all that good at latte art…”

“Tsugumi-san.”

“Yes?”

Sayo took the cup by the handle and raised it slowly, carefully, like it was a priceless object. “This is beautiful.” Her smile, her eyes, they were all so sincere looking as she stared at the flower, completely enthralled. “I almost don’t want to ruin it.”

“Oh...that’s…” The heat rising in her face was making it hard for Tsugumi to find the right words for the moment. “I-it’s just milk, you know, it’s all meant to be drunk, s-so it’s no big deal…” Her words died down, probably so she could better listen to Sayo’s soft laughter.

“Perhaps,” She said, the rays of the setting sun catching in her eyes as she looked up, leaving them aglow. “But you’ve made it into something beautiful. Understand that.” She closed her eyes as she took a small, careful sip, and Tsugumi held her breath.

“What do you think?” She asked as Sayo lowered the cup from her lips.

“It’s nothing like what I normally get,” She said, her focus now on her drink. “It’s smoother. Mild.” She took another sip, now taking a brief moment to savor. “It’s sweet.” Another sip. “It feels...how do I put this...it feels very you.”

“What do you mean?”

Sayo set the cup down. “It’s gentle. All the harshness is gone.” She smiled, a warm, beautiful, smile that Tsugumi wanted to burn into her memory forever. “I like this. You have good taste.”

“Th-thank you…”

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

How long had she been lying here on her bed, staring up at her ceiling? Was it an hour? Was it ten minutes? It was hard to tell, with the way she’d been replaying the events of the afternoon in her mind.

“Sayo-san…” She softly whispered Sayo’s name as she remembered the care with which she had handled the cup simply because of the art, the way she had savored every sip down to the last drop, how she had smiled at her like that...it all made her feel like there was something rattling around in her chest, some kind of energy she had no clue how to release. She let out a long, slow breath in an attempt to steady herself.

Ping! That sound. It was the sound of a text coming in. Followed by several more.

Sitting up, Tsugumi grabbed her phone from where it lay off to the side and turned it on. A series of texts from Himari, sent to the Afterglow groupchat. She unlocked her phone and read the messages carefully.

guys ok!

we have a show booked for friday at galaxy

were playing the first set and we start at 5

we have to be there like 1 hour early tho so clear ur schedules!

[faintblueivy]

A Cup Full Of Smiles - Chapter 1 - An Ordinary Day

Hello guys! This is my submission for Borusara Fanfiction Week for day 2. The prompt is - Coffee! So here am I presenting you with my new Coffee Shop AU! But it is just a debut to what is to come, but I won’t be able to give you updates before I end up finishing my other multichapter fics – ‘Is she beautiful?’ and ‘Matters of the Heart’. Sorry about that.

This fanfiction is based on my amazing friend @ionica01’s BNHA fanfiction (for Todomomo ship) called a cup of magic. If you’re interested then go ahead and give it a read. I promise you won’t be disappointed!

Finally let’s come to the Fanfiction! Hope you enjoy it!

Summary- Sarada tried her best to convince herself that this cafe has only become a part of her routine because of its cozy homelike atmosphere, definitely not for a blond haired, blue eyed boy who personified sunshine itself. Well, maybe it is really his fault after all.

…

A Cup Full Of Smiles

Chapter 1

An ordinary day

The strong aroma of rich coffee wafts through the streets, attracting people towards it like a moth to the flame. A large board of beautifully carved framework saying ‘A Cup Full Of Smiles’ is highlighted with pink and blue lights. 

The inside scene of the building is alive with all the smiles and giggles, clearly giving a meaning to the name of the cafe. All sorts of people occupy the seats, ranging from retired civilians to lively youngsters. And all of those people were clearly enjoying their time here.

Boruto whirled around the tables with an amazing swiftness, hands balancing trays of coffees, shakes and pastries. A bright never faltering smile was curled upon his lips and his blue eyes shined with warmth that all of his customers adored.

A cup full of smiles - was a cafe run by all male Baristas. And you can obviously guess that it must have been pretty popular among ladies. After all, where can you get young, hot and handsome men serving you with a smile on their faces? Though a cup full of smiles was pretty famous among males as well because of the friendly and welcoming attitude of the staff.

Boruto made sure that everyone coming to a cup full of smiles was provided with the best service irrespective of the gender. They were all his customers and he deeply adores being able to bring smile on the faces of people.

The love he has for a cup full of smiles is unparalleled.

And for the grand success of his quest, he was supported by an amazing staff putting everything they had to make this cafe a place to call home for him and also for their own selves. Yes, they were eccentric and a little rough around the edges but they were a part of the family of a cup full of smiles and Boruto unarguably cherished each and every one of them.

The way he adored every member of the staff, similarly the dedication that the staff poured into managing and running a cup full of smiles also stemmed from their fondness towards their employer. The way Boruto knew each of them personally, they too always observed him and his little quirks.

That is why it did not escape other’s notice that despite the brilliant smile, how often his eyes would roam to the gates every now and then. When the door bells chimed, every time, he would look up and grin which only dampened in the eyes a little when he would realize that it’s not her.

She was definitely running late today.

A few orders are given and taken when Boruto is called out by Inojin.

“Boruto! Your girlfriend is here!”

A tinge of red covers his cheeks when he hisses, “Dammit! Inojin, you know, she’s my customer - not my girlfriend.” Even though, his words are supposed to contain semblance to scolding, his tone is laced with happiness.

He immediately takes up the vacant counter left by Inojin as she approaches. Boruto gives her a signature smile but his blue eyes are shinier, brighter. She couldn’t help but return it.

"The usual?” He asks as he turns to prepare her coffee.

She leans over the counter and smiles, “Yes, and a double chocolate cake, please.”

Even though his back is towards her, he could not help but chuckle, “Hard day at work?”

She wonders how he knows her so much. Maybe the fact that he’s known her all their life helps.

“Yes. The presentation went smooth but the dealers we had this time were extremely nitpicking. It was annoying.”

“Hm…looks like you’ve had a rough day, huh? You’re tired. Go to your seat. I’ll bring your order in a bit.” He says as he pours the adequate amount of steaming milk in her coffee.

“Nah, I’ll stay here. I wanna talk to you.” Her voice is tired and her posture is lethargic, and he doesn’t like it..

“Don’t argue Sarada.” He says sternly even though the warm fuzzy feeling in his heart is hard to ignore, “Go to your seat and I’ll be there. Then, we can talk as much as you want.”

It was rare for him to get this serious but Sarada liked it. So, she follows his orders and saunters over the farthest chair on the other side corner of the cafe. It was funny how he would always refer to this particular table as her seat. But she cannot argue because this is the only seat in the entire cafe that she really enjoys to sit at.

It was an unspoken rule that even when the cafe was at its busiest peak, no one really occupies it, as if it was solely reserved for her. Knowing him, it probably was. This particular spot allowed her to observe the entire café without interruptions and it also provided a lot of privacy. Her eyes flicked across all the customers and found herself shaking her head at a group of googly eyed teenager girls appreciating the baristas roaming around and performing their jobs. Well, it wasn’t exactly a rare situation to see.

Then there was rowdy group of young boys at another corner. One of the center table was occupied by an old day smiling fondly at a child by her side who was happily enjoying his big piece of rainbow cake. Another table held a young couple on a date. And then, a young man was busy scribbling something on the last corner surrounded by lots of scattered papers and a large size cup of hot chocolate. Observing so many people here made her heart warm. It’s weird to say but noticing different customers was oddly relaxing and in some way, it makes her understand Boruto a little more.

Sarada looked up, her eyes automatically resting upon a working Boruto. Seeing him smile and put his all in for his passion was definitely a heartwarming and inspirational sight.  

…

“Sarada!” the call of her name from a familiar voice made her turn head. Mitsuki approached her, carrying an empty tray and smiling his usual smile.

��Mitsuki! How are you?” She grinned at her friend.

“I’m good. But looks like you had some troubles.”

Sarada laughed at his blunt observation. “Yeah, I had a little troubles but nothing to worry about.”

“Hm, I’m glad. Hope your meeting went well.” He said.

“Of course! You know I would never settle for something less than perfect.”

He laughed, “Definitely. Though, your delay was causing him to get antsy. I think he was just a hair breadth away from barging into your office to grab you.”

“Oi! Mitsuki! Stop ratting out on me, will ya? And can ya please grab the counter? I’ll take my break now.” Boruto pouted as he carried a tray of her caramel Macchiato and an extra-large size of double chocolate cake and something else too. Sandwiches?   

Mitsuki nodded and gave her a parting wave and left as Boruto slid into the chair in front of her.

Sarada pointed at the plate of Sandwiches and poked him, “I didn’t order that.”

“I know, but you haven’t had your dinner, right?” He asked while placing the tray for her.

Sometimes, she gets overwhelmed with his habit of looking after her. There was a time when he was dubbed as the reckless one out of them. But now, it’s as if the tables have turned. She doesn’t understand how he manages to read her like an open book with a simple glance, albeit, she can do the same…but he is a type of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. Dedicated to his cause to a fault, capable of making friends easily, always smiling and trying to cheer everyone up, willing to risk everything to help his friends. To her, he was sort of predictable.   

But she was slightly different. Yes, she was a woman focused on her goals but making friends along the way like nothing was just not her forte. She was far from unsociable but still she always had a hard time opening up to new people. Suppressing her emotions and putting up the logical front, that is how her brain works. So, knowing her like that should be difficult, right? But Boruto made it look so easy. Though because it was him, she didn’t mind being readable and vulnerable.

She took a bite of the sandwich and softly smiled. They were mild flavored…just like how she liked. Her hand then immediately went to her coffee as soon as the warm creamy liquid came in contact with her taste buds, she sighed in bliss. The coffee was so Boruto. No, it was so her.

Made by him…just for her.

Perfect.

Or maybe better than perfect.

She placed the coffee back on the table but her mouth watered at the sight of the chocolate cake.

It looked so damn good.

Grabbing a fork and slicing through the soft dessert, she put it into her mouth and moaned in delight. The spongy cake layered with chocolate filling and then covered with delicious ganache made her grin at the explosion of sweet-bitter taste. A trace of coffee could be detected but rather than covering the taste of chocolate…it simply enhanced it.

As she took alternating bites of her sandwich and cake, she noticed Boruto taking a sip of her coffee. He closed his eyes and hummed softly as if analyzing the taste and picking apart every measurement of every ingredient involved. After a lot of thinking and two other sips, he put it down in front of her and grinned proudly.

“It’s good!”

She tilted her head to show her approval and pushed the plate of cake at his direction and the fork too. He took a bite and nodded but pushed it back towards her.

“It’s fine but too sweet for me.” 

She laughed knowing that despite the fact that the café specialized in confections, Boruto had always loved spicy food, or maybe he’s just developed an aversion to them, tasting them all the damn time. Sometime, she would feel jealous of him for it.

Another difference between them.

It might have been flustering to other people to share food with each other the way they do but Boruto never feels embarrassed. They had practically been sharing spoons since birth. It was nothing to be awkward about. And they were both glad about it.

As the closing time of the café approached, it became more and more vacant. And by the time the clock struck ten, all of the seats were empty except for the ones they occupied.

Sarada was about to pull out some bills for the payment when Boruto chuckled, “It’s on the house.”

Sarada smirked and shook her head. “You cannot always say ‘it’s on the house every time I order something, silly’. You do it almost five times a week!”

He cutely pouted at her words and made denial, “I don’t do that ‘always’. And anyway, a cup full of smiles belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.”

His words freeze her. He simply runs to his staff to help them with the chores leaving her behind still sitting on the table to contemplate. Yes, this is not the first time he has said that. But every time these words escape his mouth, it overwhelms her beyond belief.

A cup full of smiles was Boruto’s dream. His biggest accomplishment ever. Its success was a fruit of his hard labor and one tracked mind. If there is someone who is aware of all the struggles that Boruto had to face to bring a cup full of smiles to life, then it was her.

A cup full of smiles represented his triumph over his insecurities, fears and demons. It was a reason of his smile and the fact that he was willing to share it with her left her breathless.  

A cup full of smiles belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.

His words echo in her head again and again and her eyes begin to shine.

After a few moments pass, she lifts herself off from the chair and grabs a broom to sweep off the floor. Nobody stops her. As they make preparations for the next day, a part of Sarada is overflowing with happiness at being able to contribute something for this café.

Her café.

His café.

Their café.

A cup full of smiles.

Sometime later they step out in the cold night. The doors are locked securely and parting greetings are made. As Boruto and Sarada walk down the road side by side a comfortable silence engulfs the two best friends. Her long midnight locks sway with the wind, as if celebrating their freedom from the confines of her bun – the hairstyle she keeps for work.

A warm touch brushes against her palm which makes her look at man beside her. His boyish charm blazes through with the grin he offers her. The slight blush on his cheeks make her smile as she curls her index finger around his. This gesture from her seems to embolden him and instantly, his large hand has her smaller one in a soft grip.

Side by side, they head to home.

And somewhere along the path she makes a realization.

‘A cup full of smiles’ is her home as well.

So, this is not your typical ‘I saw you in my coffee shop and fell in love with you.’ I’m sorry if you were expecting that. But this fanfiction is going to hold a much deeper symbolism and plot. Hope you don’t mind.

Although, I REALLY WANT TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS FOR THIS FIC! Please. I wrote it with a lot of heart. So, please let me know your views!

Thank you! See you again!

P.S. And my master post will be containing all of my submissions for the week, please visit it when if you haven’t read them.

[loveiscosmicsin]

Through Their Hearts

FFXV AU where everyone is alive and well and Ignis' relationship with his mother-in-law is much like a see-saw, they love each other though.

Written for... myself because Eggnog Season equates to IgNoct.

-

  There is no better way to bring people together than with desserts. - Gail Simmons

“Ignis, it’s so wonderful to see you again.” “The sentiment’s mutual,” Ignis smiled brightly at his guest. “I’m delighted that your visit would be best spent leisurely than last time, Queen Mother.” “We’ve been over this. Call me mother.”

Aulea Caelum, the former Queen of Lucis, had gone into retirement with Regis when their son ascended the throne, but that wasn’t the end of the couple’s adventures there. Word had it that the two spent peaceful days in a quaint and humble villa, dancing, donating to charities, and traveling. As of late, the former queen had made frequent journeys to the Citadel specifically to see her son-in-law, Ignis, nearly without fail. “Of course. My apologies, mother.” Ignis leaned down so he could meet his mother-in-law’s embrace and returned the greeting with an air kiss by her cheek. “By the by, how is Regis?” “Exhaustion aside, he’s well. But I think that’s because he’s brazenly committed to the new hobbies he’s picked up.” Aulea sighed, the corners of her lips rose in a wane smile. “No matter what I say, he refuses to believe that he’s aging. He’s a young man... at heart.” “He couldn’t make the trip to the palace?” She laughed. “You wouldn’t believe who came to visit before my departure. Cid Sophiar. I was worried about leaving them alone... But if anything, I couldn’t tear them apart. I’m glad they buried the hatchet a while ago.” The former queen took Ignis’ arm. “Enough about that, tell me, how have you been? Has married life been sublime for the both of you?”

Like Aulea, Ignis was born a commoner. He was selected as a retainer to the then-Prince Noctis at a young age. Noctis swore a pledge that when he became king, he and Ignis were to be wed and months later, Lucis was bestowed a Prince Consort, husband to King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV. Among the overwhelming tasks, Ignis always gave Aulea his full and undivided attention. “Mmm, this is simply scrumptious,” Aulea gleefully commended as she finished her plate. Despite her protests of being unable to take another bite, she couldn’t resist doing so. “Do my taste buds deceive me or has your culinary skills grown since?” Ignis chuckled, drying his hands on a towel. “I believe they’ve deceived you, but I’ll take the compliment regardless.” Aulea had confessed that her own culinary skills were mediocre and always requested Ignis’ recipe book to prepare meals for Regis. “Every mouthful was to die for.” “That’ll be a damn shame if that’s the truth, I enjoy cooking for you and I rather not tempt fate.” The more time Ignis spent with Aulea, the more striking similarities he noticed. She was truly Noctis’ mother in every possible way. They even wore the same expression when they dine on his meals, the very same look of bliss and fulfillment. “But mother, you left the vegetables on your plate. Was there something wrong with them?” “Er...” Aulea winced considerably before giving the prince consort a wry grin. “I rather not say.” Ignis smiled. Mother and son were the same; forever at bitter odds with greens. “But you ate them just fine during your last visit. Though they were chopped more finely than this.” Ignis never forgot the look of betrayal on her face. When Noctis caught wind of this, he was on a battlefield. His mother could be unforgiving and relentlessly stubborn, but his husband should’ve known better. How could a thirty-two year old man win against a woman in her sixties who not even his old man could console? Instead of siding with either of them and waiting until the palace was down around his ears, he decided to take them to the Mother of Pearl in Galdin Quay. Aulea and Ignis were immediately taken by the sapphire Leiden waters, sea breeze, and impressive view of Angelgard Island from afar. The scenery segued to the both of them retelling anecdotes of their adventures—Aulea’s time as a daemon hunter (“Would you believe me if I told you that sea daemons were real, Noctis?”) and Ignis sharing what occurred during the grand road trip a decade ago (“Noct, do you remember the starving cat who loved gourmet seafood?”). They laughed as they laid down on one of the netted platforms by the dock. Noctis thought that all was well. It wasn’t. By the time that they had reconvened at the table, the tension was so thick that not even one of Gladiolus’ swords could slice through it. But Noctis had a plan B. Plates of decadent desserts of all sizes, colors, and shapes were soon brought over to their table. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. “No, no, you must be mistaken,” Aulea held out her hands to a waitress holding a platter. “We haven’t ordered yet.” “Mom, it’s okay. I did.” “If you say so, Noct...” The Queen Mother accepted the first plate that caught her eye. “Oh, look at this. This little winged Moogle on honey toast’s too adorable to eat!” Ignis raised a brow as he stared at the plates quickly filling the table. He turned to Noctis, but the king simply cocked his head, signaling that he should take his mother’s lead and dig in. Ignis conceded with a sigh, sampling a bite out of the Limit Break! Cream Puff. Ignis gasped. “My word.” Noctis grinned as he sipped his smoothie. His mother and husband happen to have a huge sweet tooth. Aulea looked over her plate. “Would you mind if I have a taste, dear?” Ignis nodded, moving the cream puff closer. A rich creamy filling spilled over her fork when she broke the pastry. “Marvelous. I taste the brownie and berries... But I can’t put my finger on the filling.” “A simple cream cheese concoction with vanilla extract.” Ignis concluded after tasting it. “I dare say I can make this certain dessert.” “Oh, could you?” Aulea asked, her gold eyes sparkling. “You have a knack for enhancing flavor that I can’t be certain whether it’s the same recipe or not. But please, I beg you, without trying to insert veggies where they don’t belong.” “For you, mother, anything.” The realization of Noctis’ intentions came full circle to Ignis as he silently expressed his gratitude to the king.

[vsplusonline]

Serefe Cafe and Malt, Hyderabad: expert-made drinks and global cuisine in a glamorous setting

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/serefe-cafe-and-malt-hyderabad-expert-made-drinks-and-global-cuisine-in-a-glamorous-setting/

Serefe Cafe and Malt, Hyderabad: expert-made drinks and global cuisine in a glamorous setting

Step into Serefe and you get a whiff of the attractively-perfumed air that emanates from Absorb, a boutique bar which is owned by the same team: Neha and Nitin Ganeriwal. While Absorb is known for its spacious luxury island vibe, Serefe is reminiscent of an intimate midnight bar.

Serefe Cafe And Malt

Where: Road Number 59, Jubilee Hills

Hits: Desserts, drinks

Misses: Hummus plate

Cost for two: Approx ₹2500

Call 9000047700

I arrive at Serefe at lunchtime, when the floor-to-ceiling curtains are drawn, allowing natural light to pour into the resto-bar. Neha says the space takes on an entirely different character at night; the space, encased by geometric mirrors, gives the lighting from the high-up chandeliers more of a playground to add some mood. “We definitely offer glamour to our patrons — in look, feel and service,” explains Neha.

Deeply passionate and committed to making Serefe a success, Neha says perfection should not be a far reach for thriving restaurants in the city. “When you say you want to start a restaurant in Hyderabad, it becomes a day-to-night commitment. Having been a housewife for 20 years, my whole routine has changed when bringing Serefe from the ground-up.”

Serefe has quickly made a name for itself in a certain sector of fine dining in the city. Its appointment-based system controls the in-flow of patrons during mealtimes. This booking system can be found via the Facebook page. Serefe also draws plenty of eyes from different kitty groups in the city who quickly book up their upstairs private dining rooms, one of which has normal seating while the other has chilled-out sofa set-ups.

Umpteen options

The menu at Serefe is a seemingly never-ending one. Not sure what to order, Neha brings a spinach salad laced with creamy cheese, walnuts and cherry tomatoes. She sends some tandoori chicken tikka our way, the chicken fillets tender and the accompanying cheese sauce — rather than the traditional mint chutney — adding just the right amount of tang. However, do gobble these up quickly before the chicken dries up.

If you are looking for something basic, get the hummus plate, it is not too overwhelming in variety and gives you company while you wait for your next dishes or drinks. What does come next is a tasty grilled fish slathered with lemon-garlic butter sauce. As someone who eats garlic-anything, this was a treat and a light one too to keep us paced before the arrival of the pesto-stuffed chicken roulade glazed with olive tapenade, drizzled with cheese.

The signature chicken roulade at Serefe Cafe and Malt, Hyderabad,   | Photo Credit: Divya Kala Bhavani

Do not miss out on Serefe’s desserts. I have a major sweet tooth but when a chocolate tart and a tiramisu is set in front of me, it is as though the previous binge session never happened. The chocolate tart is puddled in dark chocolate sauce, the dish a flourish of both sweet and bitter. The tiramisu, was a delight, though there were no discernible layers of biscotti and sponge. However, the mascarpone cheese was whipped to a cloudy lightness while the filling has a satisfying amount of coffee liquer without inciting guilt.

The chocolate tart at Serefe Cafe and Malt, Hyderabad,   | Photo Credit: Divya Kala Bhavani

When ordering a drink, be sure to consult general managers Tony Snehashis and Dominic who have been in the mixology game for a hot minute. I first order a whisky-based drink which has fruit overtones and a pretty sunset ombre going on, but Tony is quick to say, “You have got to finish that in five minutes or the drink is dead.” He then orders me a Cosmopolitan which has cointreau instead of triple sec and sugar syrup, my first Cosmo in a while which does not taste like bubblegum.

Dominic sends me a vodka-based berry drink (with biodegradable straws, yay!); as someone who detests vodka, this was pretty decent as it was balanced out with green tea. Then — do not worry, I am gulping food down while this happens — he dares me to go for an unnamed sambucca-based drink which is piled high with crushed ice, but has flavourings of fresh basil. This drink felt like more of a night-out drink for me, given the slightly indulgent nature to it.

It is easy to understand why Serefe is doing well as a destination for both day and night outs, so the establishment will not be slowing down anytime soon.

You have reached your limit for free articles this month.

Register to The Hindu for free and get unlimited access for 30 days.

Subscription Benefits Include

Today’s Paper

Find mobile-friendly version of articles from the day’s newspaper in one easy-to-read list.

Unlimited Access

Enjoy reading as many articles as you wish without any limitations.

Personalised recommendations

A select list of articles that match your interests and tastes.

Faster pages

Move smoothly between articles as our pages load instantly.

Dashboard

A one-stop-shop for seeing the latest updates, and managing your preferences.

Briefing

We brief you on the latest and most important developments, three times a day.

Not convinced? Know why you should pay for news.

*Our Digital Subscription plans do not currently include the e-paper ,crossword, iPhone, iPad mobile applications and print. Our plans enhance your reading experience.

Source link

[malodorousmalcontent]

Sucreabeille Review: Part 1

So, sometime near the beginning of February, Andrea of Sucreabeille read one of my reviews and liked it enough to approach me about reviewing some of her scents, offering a coupon to do just that! And, truth be told, i'd already been looking at the house - I had learned about it from Hexennacht - and had been wanting to place an order anyways. So, y'know, not gonna pass that bad boy up.

Through various circumstances, I ended up placing three different orders and coming into ownership of 22 different perfumes and one body oil. (And, since writing this, have placed ANOTHER order for 10 more samples. wooh!) Since that's, uhh, a lot, i'm gonna be dividing up the reviews into, mm, somewhere between three and five different parts. This is part one, where i'll be covering Cream Tea; Life Spark; Frozen Moon; Sea Glass; We Aim To Misbehave; Khal Drogo; Tyrion; and Brienne the Beauty.

FIRST, thoughts on actually ordering from Sucreabeille: Andrea is an absolutely delightful person. She was super gracious and very openly communicative - when there was a delay in the order due to Snowmageddon, I received an email explaining exactly when my order would go out and offering compensation for the delay... Which I honestly didn't think was even necessary, on account of how my order was ready to ship well before the TAT estimate on their website. Even with the delay, I believe my perfumes were all delivered basically right on time. She also threw in a bottle of her hair and body oil for free! (Which I fell head over heels in love with - we'll get into that later.) Really just a super pleasant experience.

The only complaint I have is, uh, the state it showed up in.

Upon opening the packages, I was immediately hit with a wave of Sweet Bubblygummy/Rubbery Scent and went, oh, gosh. Something leaked. I carefully started opening stuff up, and found everything but the samples wrapped in this damp, thin, gummy substance - undoubtedly something to KEEP stuff from leaking. I've since found out that it was partially melted parafilm, and, boy, it did not agree with my drams. And it smelled. Like... Filled the room, smelled. Could still smell it hours after I threw it all away... Smelled. I'm just glad it wasn't an actual perfume leak, because it was not a good smell, either.

...But, on that note, several of my sample vials did leak - at least five of them.

The next issue was the labels, which is really just parafilm issues part 2. The drams were a mess - the parafilm left them really slippery and absolutely destroyed the ink on the labels. I had to very, very carefully unwrap them, and very carefully put tape over the label, and very carefully wipe them clean. Not a single label came out unharmed - and one of the drams now has a blank label with the name written on it in gel pen. I'll also add that if any of the perfume oil gets on the labels, boom, that ink comes right up - my sample vials are pretty spotty, too, due to the leaks they had.

(A VERY IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Andrea is well-aware of the leak issue and, at the time of me writing this, has already fixed it - the drams have new lids and the samples come in the fricken' cutest bottles imaginable. I wouldn't let this complaint deter anybody from ordering.

Also, when I mentioned in the Suc FB group having tested out all the scents I ordered, Andrea was really proactive in asking about the state my order had arrived in and was happy to replace the leaky samples. A+ customer service.

I'm... So absurdly excited to get those itty bitty bottles in my next order.)

And now on to the scents.

--

CREAM TEA (PERFUME OIL) | Hot chai tea, burnt sugar, white musk, warm milk, scones slathered with raspberry jam and honey.

(If y'all notice a discrepancy in the notes - these are the notes from the scent description, not the 'scent notes' part. I chose to use this since it was a bit more in-depth.)

IN THE BOTTLE: I get like... The tiniest hint of burnt sugar, but there's this cool sweetness underneath it that almost smells medicinal. Maybe that's the tea? Weird.

ON THE SKIN: I've had a hard time describing this one. I wrote my initial notes - and then ended up not going off them at all while writing the actual review. And after I wrote the review, I wasn't happy with it, so I re-wrote it. And now i'm rewriting it again. So... Let's see if I can get it this time.

The first note I get is, most definitely, the burnt sugar. It was the first note I got when I tried it on straight out of the mail, too - and, at the time, it was so overpowering I could hardly smell anything else. Was downright acrid. After over a week of rest, it's mellowed some, but is still largely at the forefront, nutty and charred and a little bitter. Underneath it, I get a general kind of foody sugary sweetness, where it's harder to say what it is - the scones? The honey? The chai tea? - but I DEFINITELY can detect the raspberry jam. Saying it like that makes it sound like it's a Big Note--the jam isn't overwhelming, it just gives the scent a kind of fruity, bright, slightly tart edge.

After about 10 minutes, I can smell the musk: humid and slightly sharp, as white musk tends to be on me. There's a creaminess to the whole scent from the milk note, and I definitely get some foody spices... But I couldn't pick out anything that particularly reads 'tea' to me, y'know. Dries down to, basically, softly-sweet scone and a hint of that nutty burnt sugar.

This has some good sillage when wet - could smell it from at least a foot away - but wears closer to the skin on the drydown.

RATING: 3/5. It's not bad, but even after mellowing out that burnt sugar still makes it sorta acrid and gives me a headache.

--

LIFE SPARK (PERFUME OIL) | An enormous blizzard on a cold winter’s night, a fireworks explosion.

IN THE BOTTLE: A cool, fresh, slightly floral scent. Honestly? Think air freshener.

ON THE SKIN: So, I tried this one on early-on, and that's when the notes were truest. The 'fireworks explosion' honestly reminded me of the smell of a burning sparkler: fuzzy, maybe a little sulfuric, has a metallic tang to it. The 'enormous blizzard'... Well, truth be told, I didn't really get much cold atmosphere from this. Mostly those notes were just kinda perfumey. But! Burning sparkler. Good stuff.

After resting, it's actually lost that metallic tang, and from the get-go, just sorta smells like a nice, smooth, slightly floral conditioner with a soft, wet sweetness. That's basically the long and short of it: nice soap.

Smells pretty strong and clear on my wrist, with a sillage of at least a couple inches.

RATING: 3/5. I don't care for soapy scents, but as far as they go, this is at least a pretty one.

--

FROZEN MOON (PERFUME OIL) | Crisp winter evening air, frost, sweet sugar plum, delicious marshmallow.

IN THE BOTTLE: Bubblegum.

ON THE SKIN: Hey guess what! It smells like bubblegum!

In all seriousness, though: this started off bubblegummy and ended bubblegummy. The plum and marshmallow just combine to make the perfect pink bubblegum, with the plum maybe lending it the teensiest bit of tartness. The cold air/frost notes didn't feel particularly cold for the first hour of wear, and then, finally, a tiny bit of refreshing coolness begins to peek through.

On the drydown, the scent goes from a fuzzy bubblegum to a strong, crystal clear, juicy bubblegum. But, y'know. Still bubblegum. It's evidently got some strong sillage - my roommate could smell it from feet away, and said that it smelled like 'a baby. Like how a baby always smells sweet, because they're covered in sweet'. Their words, not mine.

RATING: 2.5/5. Too youthful for me, but someone, somewhere, wants to smell like a baby, covered in sweet.

--

SEA GLASS (PERFUME OIL) | Juicy mango, ripe yuzu, whipped coconut cream, sea moss, pure honey from the comb, Tahitian vanilla, salty spray.

IN THE BOTTLE: Fruuuuity. Definitely getting that mango and the coconut cream.

ON THE SKIN: So. Starts out with smooth mango and sharp pinpricks of the yuzu's tartness at the very top, making it a real tropical-smelling scent, with a bed of the coconut cream underneath it, lending it a very tasty, slightly rich sweetness. The sea moss and salt are ever-present, giving the scent a tinge of ocean-smell. After about an hour and a half of wear, the fruit and coconut cream fades and the vanilla comes out, and it's a bright and perky vanilla, not the smooth n mellow vanilla. While I can't say i'm getting anything that makes me go, 'oh, that's honey', it's probably amping up the vanilla. Salt's still there, too - makes my mouth water and my nose tingle, gives the scent a sparkle. I would say the whole scent's kinda stylized - this is another scent that reminds me of shampoo or conditioner without necessarily smelling soapy, like a tropical themed shampoo.

Wears close the skin, and by the time the vanilla (and honey?) comes out, it's sorta faint. Honestly, I tried this one on 3-4 times since I got it - including while writing this review - and each time it's been hard for me to pick up. I get particularly nose-blind to this bad boy.

RATING: 3.7/5. It's pretty and refreshing. Just wish it didn't fade so fast.

--

WE AIM TO MISBEHAVE (PERFUME OIL) | Rosemary, Vanilla, Amber, Honey.

IN THE BOTTLE: A lot of surprisingly medicinal yet smooth herbiness.

ON THE SKIN: Starts out smelling like Weird Rosemary - i'm almost certain that's due to the rosemary and the amber note combining, and i'm pretty sure it's a dry amber, not a sweet one. The Weird Rosemary smell is strong, smooth, a little earthy, with a tingle of herbaceous green-ness, and... I mean, it's weird. It smells like a rosemary doppelganger that can't quite get the features right - and I love the smell of Real Rosemary, I cook with it all the time, so I sure as heckie know what it smells like. Also, like... For notes of vanilla and honey, this scent starts out with virtually no detectable sweetness.

As it dries down, it gets better. The rosemary becomes more realistic, but also gets more subtle, and the vanilla comes pouring out, smooth and mellow and not particularly foody. The scent takes on a fuzzy, soft sweetness. It's actually really pretty. Usually vanilla like this--the kinda smoother, waxier, less foody vanilla--makes me feel a bit sick, but combined with the rosemary, it's pretty nice - the herby edge helps balance it a lot. The honey finally comes out far into the drydown, and it's not particularly strong, just gives a small brightness to the scent.

This wears pretty dang close to my skin, and within an hour, it's very light, bordering on 'have-to-really-search-for-it'.

RATING: 4/5. Not wild about how it starts, but it dries down so prettily. Once again, if only it weren't so dang light on me. :T

--

KHAL DROGO (HAIR & BODY OIL) | Supple leather, smoky sandalwood.

IN THE BOTTLE: Light, new leather and very subtle sandalwood.

ON THE SKIN: Boy this takes on a whole new life once I rub it in. I never would've ordered it based on the notes alone (I like both sandalwood and leather, but was worried it'd be too masculine for me), but i'm so so glad it got thrown in.

The leather smells like that light brown, velvety, super soft, super worn, kinda unfinished leather, sitting on top of dry, dusty sandalwood - in the best way. I slather this all over my hands, cup said hands over my mouth, close my eyes, and just breathe in - and suddenly i'm in one of those shops where they sell handcrafted leatherworks and handcarved wooden figurines. You know the ones - the ones with two employees total and it's a guy in his 60's-70's and his wife. Got dreamcatchers and nature paintings everywhere. It's intensely nostalgic, and so spot-on, and... Wow. A+. So cozy and comforting, and those notes ring so true and clear. Amazing scent.

As for the actual hair and body oil - it's very light, which i'm appreciative of, though it does take a LOT of it to get my thirsty thirsty hands to feel moisturized. Doesn't feel greasy and sinks in very quickly, so no sensory issues. I have hair that even the slightest amount of oil leaves lookin Nasty, but if I put some on before bed and wash it out the next day, it leaves my ends feelin' nice and soft - and the scent in it is pretty strong. Lasted through the night, still faintly detectable on my hands when I woke up the next morning, could smell a cloud of it waft up when I got in the shower.

RATING: 6/5. Maybe i'm biased due to Nostalgia, but dang, what a beautiful scent. Changed my mind about simple blends.

--

TYRION (PERFUME OIL) | Tahitian vanilla, juicy fig, freshly tanned leather.

IN THE BOTTLE: Suuuuper duper green fig, and that's basically it.

ON THE SKIN: This was the first scent that I got from Suc that I took a whiff of and audibly went 'ooooh!' because I liked it so much - I don't own anything else that smells like this. (That's probably because this is my first fig perfume, but I digress.)

The fig is really, really green - wet, juicy, humid green-ness. If someone made me sniff it and asked me what it was blind, i'd probably guess some super heady freshly-cut grass. The leather is just behind it, and is absolutely delectable: it smells like if you walked into a barn and stuck your face against a horse and just breeeeathed it in. They aren't kidding when they call that leather 'fresh'.

The scent reminds me of something that I had a little bit of trouble placing, but: you ever been on those tours of like, settlements from the 1600's? Historic cabins where you could see how people in The Colonies lived? This smells like those tours, if that makes sense. Like the inside of those cabins. Rustic, animalic, outdoorsy. It's great.

It dries down to the vanilla that, genuinely, smells like soft vanilla bean ice cream. The green of the fig is still there, but it's cool and refreshing and goes so well with the vanilla. Absolutely lovely.

RATING: 5/5.

--

BRIENNE THE BEAUTY (PERFUME OIL) | Newly cut grass on a hot summer day; smoky white musk; sweet Meyer lemon; real ginger; white tea; a fresh-picked Valencia orange.

IN THE BOTTLE: Smells like fresh, faint lemonade with a hint of ginger.

ON THE SKIN: I put this on and the first thing I smell is ginger, for like, a heartbeat. Like I just sniffed the ginger on a plate of sushi, ginger, and then from there: lemon. Honestly, I think I amp lemon. I've never worn a scent with a lemon note where it hasn't taken over, and this one's no different.

The lemon mellows out after a bit, and the scent basically becomes citrusy tea - more orange than lemon, but the lemon's sour flavor is definitely there. And... That's it. I don't pick up the musk, and not once in the three times i've tried this on have I smelled the grass, and the ginger was there for all of .5 seconds. It's nice, but doesn't really get the fire goin' in me.

RATING: 3/5. Doesn't smell bad, but i'm not interested in smellin like an orange-lemon, n' I wish the other notes showed up more.

--

Stay tuned for when I post up part 2 in the next week or two, featuring Arsenic; Longest Night; Death Unicorn; Banshee; You're in a Cult, Call Your Dad; Let's Be Bad Guys; Arya; and Here's the Thing: Fuck Everyone.

[hotfitnesstopics]

Yeah, yeah—you know you should be eating more vegetables. Two to three cups per day, according to the USDA. But here’s something you might not know: You don’t have to gnaw your way through bowl after bowl of raw kale to be one of the 10 percent of people who actually meet that goal. “There are lots of tasty, equally easy ways to add veggies to your day,” says Fitbit nutritionist Tracy Morris. “It’s just a matter of getting creative. Be brave, embrace new flavors and simple cooking techniques, and your body will love you for it.” Whether you’re tired of leaves for lunches, can’t get excited about cold dinners, or were never a fan of salads to begin with, here are 16 inventive ways to incorporate more veggies into every meal. Blended into Smoothies Almost any veggie goes down easier in a thick and delicious, creamy smoothie—especially when it’s blended with citrus to balance out any bitterness. Add a big handful of kale, chard, or spinach to your morning smoothie and then flex a little, knowing that you started your day with extra iron. Try it: Gingery Kale Smoothie Topping off Toast Avocado toast is cool, but there are so many other veggies you can drop on top of whole-wheat bread. Start with a swipe of part-skim ricotta or hummus, then add hydrating tomatoes and cucumbers. Or, pair sautéed mushrooms with a sunnyside-up egg. Try it: 9 Fresh Ways to Upgrade Your Morning Toast Stirred into Oats Stir unsweetened pumpkin puree into your morning oats for a filling breakfast that will leave you longing for fall. The pumpkin’s orange color means it’s packed with beta-carotene, contributing to your daily intake of vitamin A. Try it: Pumpkin Steel-Cut Oats Scrambled in Eggs As long as you’re cracking eggs, it’s easy-peasy to get veggies like bell peppers, mushrooms, or spinach into the mix. Chase them around a hot pan before adding the eggs, or just reach for leftover roasted veggies from last night’s dinner. Try it: Make-Ahead Mini Frittata with Greens Baked into Muffins You might not associate muffins with green vegetables, but zucchini is sweet, mild, and full of moisture, making it surprisingly delicious in bread, muffins, or pancakes. Try it: Zucchini Muffins with Chocolate Chips Simmered in Soups Carrots wilting in the crisper? Overwhelmed by a big bunch of kale? Soup’s on. Dice different veggies into a chunky stew, or blend your favorite root vegetable completely smooth. Plus, you can always upgrade chicken broth with a big handful of greens and squeeze of lemon. Try it: Green Soup with Cashew Cream Swirl Piled on Pizza Salad for dinner can be a tough sell, but everyone gets fired up for pizza night. Put a healthy spin on it with tomatoes, eggplant, or any other favorite veggie toppings. Even if your kids revolt at the sight of broccoli, you should be able to at least sneak some sweet peppers onto their pie. Try it: Green Pizza with Broccoli & Black Olives Blitzed like Rice Instead of sad, unseasoned broccoli or cauliflower, get more creative with your crucifers. The cauliflower rice trend really breaks it down: Just drop florets into a food processor, and pulse until they form grains of “rice” or “couscous.” It’s a low-cal alternative to rice or pasta, with the added benefit of phytochemicals that may help fight cancer. Try it: Broccoli Fried Rice with Veggies & Eggs Twirled like Noodles Whenever you put on a pot of pasta, it’s an opportunity to toss veggies in with the sauce. But veggie noodles take it one step further, replacing some (or all!) of those refined carbs, and piling more plants on your plate. Slurp zucchini noodles with a creamy sesame sauce or toss sweet potato noodles in a spicy chicken stir fry. Try it: Zucchini Noodles with Pesto & Grilled Shrimp Cooked into Casseroles Salad can be chill, but sometimes you’re craving warmth and comfort. And if veggies can pretend to be noodles, they can also stand in for pasta sheets. No matter what your family’s favorite casserole is, there’s a way to layer in more vegetables. Try it: EggplantMoussaka Tossed in Fresh Stir-Fries Stir-fries are a refreshing way to load up on veggies first and put protein second for a change. Toss all your favorites into a hot wok. Carrots, sugar snaps, and even cabbage add sweetness and crunch. Try it: Spicy Tofu Stir-fry with Coconut Sticky Rice Baked as Fries Even the most determined veggie hater will have a hard time resisting sweet potatoes in French fry form. Simply drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, and slide into the oven. Feeling more adventurous? Sub in beets, carrots, or parsnips. Try it: Sweet Potato Fries Stuffed with Goodies Stuffed vegetables are pure comfort; fresh produce is just part of the package deal. Keep the stuffing healthy with lean ground meat or beans and whole grains, but don’t forget a sprinkle of cheese. Try it: Stuffed Veggies with Beans & Corn Whipped into Dips Sure, you could set out crudités with a creamy dip. Or you could double the veggies and whip them into the dip, too. Dig into beautiful beet hummus, cucumber raita, or healthy, homemade spinach dip, replacing the cream with yogurt. Try it: Beet Hummus with Spiced Pita Chips Minced in Meatballs or Burgers Shred zucchini, mince mushrooms, or finely chop sautéed spinach, before gently mixing it into lean ground beef or turkey, and shaping into meatballs or burgers. It cuts some of the meat out of your meal and pumps up the moisture and flavor. Try it: Beef & Mushroom Burgers Roasted to Perfection Roasting veggies can tease out flavors you wouldn’t get otherwise, and it couldn’t be easier. Preheat the oven to 450°F (230°C). Pile bite-sized pieces of cauliflower, broccoli, or Brussels sprout on a baking sheet, drizzle with olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Toss to coat and spread out. Roast until tender-crisp and golden, about 20 minutes. Try it: Roast Pork with Apples & Brussels The post Eat Your Veggies! These 16 Non-Salad Strategies Make it Easy appeared first on Fitbit Blog. from Fitbit Blog https://ift.tt/2KxEHkw via IFTTT

http://www.fitnessclub.cf/2018/08/eat-your-veggies-these-16-non-salad.html

[tebbyclinic11]

Perfect Beer Pairings for 12 of Our Favorite Summe...

New Post has been published on https://kitchengadgetsreviews.com/perfect-beer-pairings-for-12-of-our-favorite-summe/

Perfect Beer Pairings for 12 of Our Favorite Summe...

amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "amt041-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cooking"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "Kitchen"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "51fe4d035c7af8dc5928e6f5e5b79c4e"; amzn_assoc_default_browse_node = "284507"; amzn_assoc_rows = "4"; amzn_assoc_design = "text_links";

Having a spread of grilled summer masterpieces? That’s nice. Having a beer to pair with each expertly grilled dish? That’s the mark of a true enthusiast. And yes, we’re true enthusiasts—for both beer and grilled things. While pairing usually insinuates wine, the diverse range of flavors found in beer can take smoky, charred meats and acidic salads filled with peak-season produce to whole new worlds. Plus, beer has that casual summer attitude that avoids any food-pairing pretension. We matched up some of our favorite new summer recipes with common beer styles, so that we can all jump into this pairing thing together.

And here’s where it gets better. To really nail these pairings, we enlisted the help of beer professionals: Averie Swanson is the head brewer at Jester King, a brewery known for their wild and spontaneously-fermented ales in Austin, Texas. Brittanny Anderson is the chef and co-owner of both Metzger and Brenner Pass in Richmond, VA, where she pairs local and European beer with her German and Alpine-influenced food. And Benjamin Pratt is the co-owner of New York City’s As Is (the best beer bar in the city).

A brewer, a chef, and a bar owner. That’s the kind of crew you want suggesting your beers. And we asked them to pair each dish to a style of beer, not a specific beer. This way, you can pick up something from your local brewery that fits the style, instead of searching for a beer you might not be able to find. Let’s get started.

“The tart acidity from a gose, as well as the slight saltiness, will cut through the heat and sweetness of the hot honey and enhance the natural sweetness of corn. The combination of sweet, spicy and tart is making my mouth water thinking about this pairing.” — Benjamin Pratt

“Like everyone else in the world, I love fried stuff. At Metzger we make a lot of schnitzel and I always pair it with a super crisp German Pilsner. The crisp bitterness of the pilsner really bites through the crunchy fried fish and creamy, tangy sauce. It’s the perfect lunch beer to go with fried anything.”— Brittanny Anderson__

“This is a bold and summery dish [there are a few chiles in the dressing], and a smoked beer like a Rauchbier would be super tight with it. The smokiness of the beer would complement the cumin in this dish, as well as making the acidity from the lime juice really pop.” __— B.A.

“This dish would pair well with the contrasting black pepper notes and the dry, crisp character of a table saison. Something low in ABV.” — Averie Swanson

“I would pair a big, sweet IPA with this. Sometimes those big double IPAs can be overwhelming without food, but if you stack ‘em up against something spicy and crunchy and cold, that sticky sweetness just rounds out the whole bite.” — B.A.

“I’d do a Belgian witbier here, a low-ABV beer brewed with wheat. The subtle citrus and fruit character of a witbier would complement the mango salad nicely, and the fluffy texture of the wheat would hold space for the delicate flavors of the snapper, while cooling whatever spiciness is present.” — A.S.

“I’d eat this massive pork with a helles lager or pilsner, something light and crushable. The complexity of the sweet and savory glaze could easily get muddled by a more aggressive beer style. The basic biscuity flavors of an easy-drinking lager enhance the experience of the pork and help produce overall balance.” — B.P.

“The light acidity of a gose will definitely highlight the lemon in this dish, and the subtle salt presence in a gose will help create a seamless flavor experience, especially with a savory dish like this.” — A.S.

“Witbier makes for great food beer all around. It has enough natural complexity to complement a wide range of food flavors while still being quaffable enough to be thirst quenching and refreshing, especially with something as savory as lamb. The combination of the rosemary with the spices in a witbier (coriander, grains of paradise, etc.) should complement the gaminess/minerality of the lamb.” — B.P.

“Grilled chicken with chiles and anchovy is going to be super earthy and funky, so let’s pair like-with-like and go with a wild ale, one with lots of big, fruity, barnyard-ish flavors from a wild yeast called Brettanomyces. Wild ales can also have tartness too. The funk and acidity of the style is going to blend with those rich, salty flavors of the anchovy and it will be a big umami bomb for sure. I need that right now.” — B.A.

“For short rib, we’re going to need a beer that can stand its ground. The sweet juiciness of the New England IPA contrasts the savory fattiness of the short rib and the spice of the red curry. While it may not contribute anything obvious in terms of flavor interplay, it sounds damn satisfying to me.” — B.P.

“The bready wheat character of a beer like an American wheat ale will resonate with the crust of a crisp. And the soft stone fruit character of this style of beer will pair perfectly with the peaches in this dish, a true summer pairing.” — A.S.

And you better be drinking your beer out of the right glass:

amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "true"; amzn_assoc_search_bar_position = "bottom"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "amt041-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cookware"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "All"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "b45319dac495d29e17b5eff312392025"; Source link

[boozedancing]

A while back, G-LO received his usual boozemail, while I received a few “Notices to Occupant” for a rug cleaning service and an online “college” that’s ranked jusssssst slightly below Trump University. While a home filled with hardwood floors might not be the best audience for a rug cleaning business, I’m always in the market for some additional education. And since this “college” swears to have only the bestest professors with the biggest brains, I filed that online “college” paperwork away for later. Enough about me and my endless quest for self improvement (like I’m EVER gonna improve! Just ask Benita. I’m beyond hope. And yet somehow, I’m her “Happily ever after…”), let’s get back to G-LO’s latest bit of boozemail which was quite a doozy.

This time around, G-LO received a mixed six pack from the fine folks at Ninkasi which consisted of three different beers. For those of you keeping score, we received two of each variety which of course means that we didn’t have to argue you about how to divy up the boozemail (or should we call it brewsmail?). I get one of each, and G-LO gets one of each; no tough division of labor problem here! As is usually the case, our only obstacles to getting our reviews done in a timely fashion are the Benevolents and the Urchins and the not to be trifled with monkey wrenches that they throw our way whenever we attempt to get some “work” done.

After several failed attempts at scheduling a research session, we were finally successful in arranging a Night at the Murder Table (which is almost as funny as Night at the Museum, but with more of a Godfather flavor. The night G-LO has cannolis and suggests a ride out to the country, I’m outta there!). With a trio of Ninkasi brews in hand, time to properly research them, and a somewhat hospitable environ in which to taste said brews all lined up, I sauntered over to G-LO’s to get some “work” done (I of course made sure to keep my LifeTime app active as I MUST get all of my steps in lest I get the hose).

The three Ninkasi beers that we tasted are the Yours Truly Easy-Drinking Ale, the Pacific Rain Northwest Pale and the Prismatic Juicy IPA. As far as the drinking order goes, we decided to let the ABV be our guide, i.e. we would sample the beer with the lowest ABV first and then take it from there.

With the excessively long backstory out of the way, let’s get on with the reviews…

Ninkasi Yours Truly Easy-Drinking Ale

Here’s what Ninkasi has to say about their Yours Truly Easy-Drinking Ale:

Brilliant in color, Yours Truly is crisp, and refreshingly effervescent. A dash of hops gives this beer a lightly floral, herbal, and fruity hop profile that subtly dances on the palate. Its sweetly-toasted malt profile carries notes of cracker, cereal, biscuit, and honey. With a smooth finish, Yours Truly leaves you ready for the next sip.

And here’s what we thought of it…

Appearance: Bright yellow with pale orange highlights [Editor’s Note: These are G-LO’s words. Is he describing a strawberry blond co-ed on campus, or a beer? I guess only he knows the answer]. Minimal head and lacing.

ABV: 4.3%

Aroma

Limpd: Malty, doughy, wet cardboard with a hint of allspice.

G-LO: Bright and citrusy on the nose with hints of orange and grapefruit zest and maybe a touch of mango. A bit of honey sweetness [Editor’s Note: This was also G-LO’s nickname at school] on the back-end.

Taste

Limpd: Lightly carbonated with a big malty backbone, minimal sweetness and a slightly hoppy bite as it heads to a smooth finish

G-LO: Lightly carbonated [Editor’s Note: We finally agree on something!]. Not as sweet as I was expecting. A good bit of pithy lemon flavor at the start. Gets mildly bitter in the middle with a bit of astringency as you get to the finish. Ends with more of that lemony bite.

The Verdict

Limpd: Tasty, refreshing and certainly session-worthy. As we head into the warmer weather, this would be a nice beer for some weekend day drinking!

G-LO: Since I went into this beer completely blind, I had no idea what to expect. The nose messed with my palate at first (i.e. it didn’t taste like it smelled). But once I adjusted, I grew to like it. It was a bit too lemony in the end, but overall, an easy-drinking refresher of a beer.

_______________________________________

One down and two to go…

Ninkasi Pacific Rain Northwest Pale

A few words from Ninkasi about their Pacific Rain Northwest Pale:

This flavorful Northwest Pale Ale starts with a balanced, malty sweetness that lays the groundwork for profiling some of the most alluring hops around. Citra, Mosaic, Simcoe and Nugget hop varieties offer a captivating experience with flavor and aroma notes that are citrusy, tropical, floral, and piney. The residual sweetness rounds out the hop flavor making each sip as smooth and refreshing as the last.

And here are our impressions…

Appearance: Pale yellow-orange color with a 1/2 of foam that dissipates quickly.

ABV: 5.4%

Aroma

Limpd: Citrusy (tangerines?) upfront with a good bit of hops and some malty sweetness.

G-LO: A bit maltier than the Yours Truly with a lightly sweet and biscuity malt coming through. Citrusy hops on the back-end with a bit of funk too (think a cycling jersey after a long ride). [Editor’s Note: Why? Why would anyone think of that? More importantly, why would anyone want to drink that?].

Taste

Limpd: Like the Yours Truly, the carbonation is light. Sweet and citrusy (lemonade and honey) with just the slightest hoppy bite in a bitter finish.

G-LO: Lightly carbonated with a medium mouthfeel. Nice balance of malts and hops with a nice wallop of bitterness (but, never overwhelming!) and a lightly bitter finish.

The Verdict

Limpd: Not as flavorful as the aroma had suggested. I thought it was a little muted; not bad, just a little too soft. I think G-LO screwed me; the beer was too cold (OK, so it was my own beer that I brought from home but G-LO took possession and possession is 99 44/100% of the law, or something like that, so G-LO is still to blame). Anyway, as the beer warmed, the flavors really opened up. Right out of the fridge, it was a little meh. As the beer warmed halfway to room temperature, there was a noticeable difference, with the hops taking more of a presence upfront and the balance of flavors becoming far more apparent.

G-LO: Nothing earth shattering going on here. Just a solid, easy-drinking beer that is almost session-worthy given its relatively modest ABV.

_______________________________________

And now for the big finish…

Ninkasi Prismatic Juicy IPA

Ninkasi has the following to say about their Prismatic Juicy IPA:

Full of juicy hop aroma and flavor, Prismatic’s colorful hop experience is citrusy, tropical and fruity with a subtly sweet malt and a balanced finish. Notes of pineapple, passion fruit and guava excite and linger on the palate.

Here’s our take…

Appearance: Lightly cloudy, golden-yellow color. Very little head or lacing.

ABV: 5.9%

Aroma

Limpd: Most fragrant of the three. Very hoppy. Clearly an IPA. More grapefruit and resin with a bit of biscuits.

G-LO: Even more citrus than the first two beers with much more orange and tangerine coming through. Lots of biscuity malts too.

Taste

Limpd: As lightly carbonated as the others. Very malty upfront with a blast of hops that dissipates into some sweetness and then a bitter finish.

G-LO: Smooth and creamy carbonation. Nowhere near the bitterness I was expecting. Lots of lightly sweet and juicy citrus from start to finish. The finish is quite crisp and clean with some lingering citrusy hop bitterness. Also somewhat astringent.

The Verdict

Limpd: I had high hopes for this one but it left me a little wonting. I’m not sure if it was too cold or if the other beers were just more to my liking (I’m not the biggest IPA fan), but too me, this one was only ok.

G-LO: Easily the best of the three. Much like with the other two, not anything other worldly going on, just a well-crafted and very satisfying IPA. Think Comfort Beer.

_______________________________________

Final thoughts

Limpd: I really enjoyed the sampler. I found the Pacific Rain to be the most flavorful (once it warmed a bit), the Yours Truly to be one of the best session-worthy beer that I have had in a while, and the Prismatic to be only okay (as a sidenote, I recently had this one again and found that I liked it much better the second time around). Overall, as with the Sleigh’r, I say “Well done, Ninkasi!”

G-LO: As with our experience with the Sleigh’r, Ninkasi makes a variety of well-crafted, well-balanced and easy-drinking beers. Picking one over another is like picking your favorite child (Yeah, yeah, you love them all the same! Keep telling yourself that). While the Prismatic was my favorite, the other two really weren’t that far behind. It’s just that the IPA style is more to my liking.

_______________________________________

Many thanks to Ali Aasum of Ninkasi Brewing for sending use these VERY generous samples!

Higher Ed, Carpet Cleaning, Urchins, and a review of 3 Hoptastic @NinkasiBrewing #CraftBeers! A while back, G-LO received his usual boozemail, while I received a few "Notices to Occupant" for a rug cleaning service and an online "college" that's ranked jusssssst slightly below…

[vivianrhopper85]

Chubby’s Jamaican Kitchen

It can often feel difficult replicating the food and atmosphere of tropical locales in Toronto, especially in the dead of winter when snow is falling in thick white sheets and frigid winds are howling outside. An exception to this rule is the Jamaican-inspired Chubby's in the King West neighbourhood where you step inside a 1890's row house and get transported to an island resort instead. What a way to spend a cold winter evening when everyone else is bundled up and shivering on the street.

Atmosphere and Decor

The owner of this new establishment, Janet Zuccarini, may seem like a familiar Toronto name, and that's because she is as she's also the owner of the much-buzzed Gusto 101 which is conveniently located right across the street on Portland. She considers her restaurant a celebration of Jamaica from her vacations to the island nation. Joining her in this endeavour are executive chef Elio Zannoni, development lead Angela Lawrence, and chef de cuisine and Jamaican-born Donavon Campbell who brings heat, flavour, and zest to what could have easily ended up yet another jerk place in Toronto. So, if the winter blues have got you feeling a bit down, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better place to pick your mood—and tastebuds—up without hopping on a plane to an all-inclusive in the Caribbean.

There's something particularly special about these old houses-turned-eateries in Toronto. Not only do you feel like maybe you've stumbled across a secret or are visiting a long-lost friend, but it immediately brings about a sense of comfort that many restaurants lack. The building is fairly nondescript with nothing but a whitewash and a small neon pink sign above the door. But as soon as you pull the door open, you'll see a whole different world. 2 storeys of resort-style, laid-back tropical decor have been designed in a way that avoids the kitschy tackiness that themed restaurants so often fall back on. This is an upscale getaway, not a 2-star Caribbean-themed student party. Alternately, decor can often swing too far the other way into pretentiousness but Chubby's is cool without being too hipster.

Lighting is perfect, the colours pleasing and calm without being boring, and everything from the furniture to the live plants gives off a feeling of being close to a beach with a turquoise ocean, even if the closest body of water is 2 kilometres south and it's Lake Ontario instead. On a busy night, you may feel particularly cosy with your neighbours as the tables tend to be quite close to each other but otherwise, it's airy and relaxing. The music, even though it may be a bit loud at times, fit the mood perfectly with a mix of reggae, hip hop, and old school jams.

Menu Range

It's pretty obvious from the get-go what you're likely to find on Chubby's menu, but some dishes may surprise you. It's a short menu but it's precise, well-thought-out, and amazingly cohesive. It offers the usual favourites and includes more home-style and traditional cooking, alongside adventures into more modern takes on Jamaican cuisine. All at pretty affordable prices.

"Likkle Bites" starts off the appetizers with 7 choices to whet your palate ranging from $6 for spicy jerk plantain and taro chips to $15 for akee & lentil dip with chips. Filling out the rest of the section are familiar offerings such as saltfish fritters for $12, mini-patties, pepper shrimp, ackee and saltfish bites, and jerk wings.

Next comes "Big it up" featuring both home style and new style main dishes. Again we have 7 choices, with the 4 home-style options coming up as familiar menu items from many authentically Jamaican spots in Scarborough or Eglinton West including curry goat, oxtail stew, curry chicken, and veggie stew. All of these range from $15 to $17. If you're ready to spend a little bit more and get a little more adventurous (or less depending on your experiences), the new style section has you covered. There's the ubiquitous Toronto menu offering of a burger, this one beef with jerk seasoning and mango salsa but accompanied by the usual french fries for $16. Grilled shrimp wraps come up next with a very tropical set of accoutrements such as pineapple-jicama salsa and papaya chutney, as well as necessary collard greens, for a very reasonable $18. Interestingly, the shrimp can actually be substituted for jerk tempeh for vegans and vegetarians. Quite a nice touch that generally one wouldn't expect. Finally, for $23, there's an elevated option of coconut-herb-crusted sea bream with escovitch vegetables.

There are only two salads on offer but both sound flavourful and fresh. Kale and pomegranate with squash, almonds, and goat cheese goes for $14 while the watercress & papaya salad is even cheaper at $12. As a bonus, jerk chicken can be added for an extra $7 or shrimp skewers for $8 to round out the protein.

When most non-Jamaicans think of the cuisine, it's all patties and jerk chicken. So, to find a small offering of jerk does not go amiss here. Chicken is available as a quarter, half or whole bird for $14, $18, and $31 respectively. There's also the jerk pork option for $16 per half a pound of buckeye and belly with sauteed greens. For seafood lovers, grilled shrimp skewers also will cost you $16 and come with slaw.

While many restaurants don't take their sides too seriously, Chubby's has a very solid list and it offers many things that aren't part of main dishes and all of them fall between $5 and $7 each. Obviously, no Caribbean restaurant would be complete without rice and peas ($6.50), but for the slightly more hipster of us, there's also quinoa and peas for the same price. Rice, slaw, greens, and fried plantains also feature here but of special note are yammings ($7), fried okra ($5), jerk tempeh ($6) and festival—a dumpling ($5).

The "Sweet tings" or desserts round off the menu, with 4 varied options to soothe a sweet tooth after all the spice. Every dessert is only $9. Rum raisin bread pudding with vanilla gelato is the first choice followed then by carrot sponge cake with coconut meringue, passion fruit coconut creme pie with toasted coconut, and Better Than Sundae which is built from coconut ice cream, rum caramel, banana cake, candied nuts and sugar cone tuile.

Appetizers

As I was there for an early dinner, I decided to start slowly with the spicy jerk chips as they featured one of my major weaknesses: plantain. It was quite a large bowl of chips, which was a bit surprising (although I have been to other Caribbean places where such things are free on the table, like bread at Italian & French eateries). They were tasty with just a twinge of jerk seasoning.

To accompany the very crunchy chips, I was handed the hot sauce selection which consists of a "hot" and not quite so hot option. The orange scotch bonnet sauce is considered the visitor favourite and the yellow is more mango-based. Whilst I can handle a fair amount of heat, I find having a hot sauce that sets my mouth on fire is not all that makes a good hot sauce since the flavour is just as important as pain. Now, everyone experiences spice and heat differently and what may be very hot to one could be mild to another. Neither of these sauces is nearly as hot as could be but I wouldn't assume most patrons are coming here for sauces with a Scoville score of 3 million. So, with that said, they had a pleasant enough flavour without overwhelming anyone's palate with burning. If you are looking to fry your taste buds, you'd better bring your own Naga chillies from home.

Entrees

While there is a nice selection of hot plates to choose from, I've recently enjoyed goat curry and oxtail from other places and felt like going healthy. Okay, healthier. The server suggested the watercress and papaya salad which was funny since it was also on my shortlist and I opted to add the jerk chicken because I wasn't sure how I could judge a Jamaican-inspired restaurant without sampling the jerk flavours. It turns out I got the best of both worlds and made my decision that much easier.

The salad was fairly large and loaded with papaya and watercress, as the name would suggest. The greens were a bit wilted but retained enough flavour to make that less noticeable, especially when combined with the delicious avocado puree that held the salad together. Crunch was found instead in the generous helping of pimento-roasted cashews. There was a nice, subtle flavour to the dressing but overall, it was a salad. A satisfying one but not something I would consider ground-breaking or shocking. The papaya was juicy and added a pleasing burst of sweetness against the creaminess of avocado and very, very slight bitterness of watercress.

Then there was the jerk chicken. Unlike some chicken places, a quarter of chicken here consists of a piece of breast, a leg, and a piece of the back. It was nice to have the ability to munch on different parts instead of just back or just leg. The chicken itself wasn't large which made me think that perhaps they are using non-hormone meat but I can't be sure, of course. Wishful thinking, maybe. But more importantly perhaps is the way the meat was cooked and seasoned. Both aspects were done to perfection. The chicken was moist yet nice and hot, with just that thin, thin crust of charred spice slathered over it. Again, here is it not about the spiciness of the seasoning but the overall balance of flavours and Chubby's jerk chicken is popular for a reason. There's a smokiness, and twinge of sweetness, mixed with the peppery fundamentals of what makes jerk just so unique. And the flavour is not limited to the skin but seems to have soaked into the juicy meat itself. It's a pleasure to have jerk chicken that isn't dry as sandpaper.

I had initially wanted to try the fried plantains but Chubby's will not serve unripe plantain so they were off the menu for the night. Instead my server very helpfully suggested the fried okra as a side. Now, I'm the first one to admit okra is not my favourite vegetable. Often I find it slimy, bland, and insipid no matter how it's cooked. But this okra? It was a whole new world! Small okra pods fried to perfect crispness and slathered in a smooth, delectable banana gastrique that I'd also never had before. Divine would be an understatement. After this, okra may have just jumped to the top of my favourite vegetables if cooked like this.

Dessert

I'd taken my server's advice for the whole meal already so when he suggested that the rum raisin bread pudding would be the best way to end the meal, I went with it. He hadn't steered me wrong before. The small tower of bread cubes appeared not long after with a sizable dollop of vanilla gelato drizzled with a sweet rum caramel sauce. Bread pudding was another food I'd never tried previously simply because it always looked so sad and soggy in England. This was thick and heavy sweet bread, with a great crust on the top. There was nothing soggy about it but it melted in my mouth all the same.

Drink Options

Alcoholic drinks at Chubby's are obviously centred around one of the island's most well-known exports: rum. This isn't to say that they don't have other options but if you don't like rum, you're going to miss out on some of the best cocktails on offer. From names such as Everything Nice, Nana's Love, Kingston 10, and Buffalo Soldier, you can see the theme of the signature cocktails. 3 out of the 6 contain rum, with gin, tequila, or bourbon cocktails rounding out the rest. The majority are $12.50 for 2oz, but the Kalabash Bay will run you $21—the bonus being that it's 3oz and served in a pineapple. On tap, they've got their own rum punch for $13 and Jamaican Ginger Beer for $7. Then, of course, there are cocktails for the more traditionally-minded patrons including Caribbean-inspired mojito, mules, gin, and a rum old-fashioned —all for between $11 and $15.50.

I went with the first choice on the list: Everything Nice. With a name like that, I suspected it would be hard to dislike. And I was right! Apparently, it's the most popular of the signature cocktails and with good reason. It mixes Appleton signature rum with Aperol, mango juice, lemon, tamarind and the subtle but necessary star: scotch bonnet. It may seem a bit odd to add hot pepper to what is meant to be a refreshing libation but somehow, the drink works incredibly well, even when using it to diffuse some of the heat from the food. The scotch bonnet is not immediately noticeable when you sip but it sneaks up on you after a few moments and the spice with the sweet and sour of the rest of the drink and makes for a surprisingly robust flavour explosion.

But what's unique to the bar selection is their "Rum bar" claiming to serve seven of the world's best rums from Jamaica, Guyana, Nicaragua, St. Lucia, and Florida. Each 1.5oz will cost between $8 to $19 so if you have an itch for some serious rum-tasting along with your food, this is the place.

Of course, the restaurant also has a small selection of white, red, and sparkling wines from France, Italy, California, and Spain. And there's also the beer list which is fairly predictable for a Toronto eatery including 2 craft beers (for $7 and $8), Red Stripe, Heineken, and Guinness (for $6 a pint). There are also teas and coffees for something warmer and a delicious selection of "Cool Runnings" or fruit juices. I opted to try the sorrel punch and was not disappointed, especially as it came with a biodegradable paper straw which is a nice touch that you don't see often enough. It paired very well with the jerk chicken.

Service

From the moment I walked in, the staff were amazing. You're greeted at the door by a friendly, happy hostess who has a relaxed charm that can put anyone at ease. There is a casual vibe that never borders on neglectful like it does at some other King West venues.

Table service was prompt, even quicker than expected really and I was never left waiting and wondering where my meal was. Everything came out hot or cold as it needed to be. I was very pleased with my server, PJ, who not only knew the menu like he eats it for every meal, but was personable, talkative, and seemed genuine in his interest about my experience. While not everyone would be down to chat as much as me, he can read a table and adjust as necessary. I found his knowledge of the menu and his sheer enthusiasm for his picks to be contagious almost. By the end of the meal, I knew that I could trust him to tell me exactly what a dish was like and whether I'd like it or not. It's always beneficial to have servers so enthused about the food they serve. Someone please get PJ a whole pan of the rum raisin bread pudding for his birthday! It's all he's asking for.

Feeling Afterwards

To say I was bursting would be an understatement but I had to soak up every bite of bread pudding before I left. It seemed a crime to leave any behind. But with my doggy packed from the meal and ready to go, I walked out with a smile on my face and round belly. It's possible I actually rolled out through the door and into the freezing cold Toronto night. It was almost like the feeling stepping off a plane from a tropical midwinter destination and back into reality. The food was filling, and satisfying and I remained so for many hours after.

Now, I've heard some unhappy rumbles about the inauthenticity of this restaurant, especially in terms of cultural appropriation and the "hipsterization" of King West which is an issue that should be mentioned but overall, I found the flavours in the food to be worth the visit and the price, and the atmosphere itself just felt very friendly and relaxed. That's a very hard balance to achieve successfully. Not to mention I found the menu to be surprisingly cohesive as it all seemed to flow together, and although I didn't try every item, I'd assume it doesn't matter what combination you build, it'll be a smooth transition from dish to dish. Am I an expert on Jamaican cuisine? Not at all. But as someone who enjoys the flavours, comfort, and chill I feel that Chubby's hits the nail on the head for something different and welcome in the neighbourhood.

VL00KV

from News And Tip About Real Estate https://jamiesarner.com/toronto-restaurant-reviews/chubbys-jamaican-kitchen/

[mgjansen81]

Simple Chicken Noodle Soup Means Delicious Is in t...

New Post has been published on https://makesomethingtasty.com/simple-chicken-noodle-soup-means-delicious-is-in-t/

Simple Chicken Noodle Soup Means Delicious Is in t...

amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "pramedgro-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cooking"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "Kitchen"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "51fe4d035c7af8dc5928e6f5e5b79c4e"; amzn_assoc_default_browse_node = "284507"; amzn_assoc_rows = "4"; amzn_assoc_design = "text_links";

[Photographs: Vicky Wasik]

With a typical group of people, a game of “would you rather” will usually involve celebrities or fantasies, but the team here at Serious Eats is a bit unconventional. We prefer to challenge each other with tawdry questions such as, “banh mi or Italian combo?” and “burrata or stracciatella?” During one of our heated discussions, the following question was raised; “What soup would you rather eat for the rest of your life: pho, ramen, or chicken noodle?” Without any hesitation my answer was chicken noodle soup.*

[Editor’s note: Wrong answer!]

I’m not sure what this says about me. A pho follower must certainly be a showman and adventurer—transforming raw meat tableside and risking dangerous sips between fiery jalapeño slices. I assume ramen eaters to be indulgent extroverts, loudly slurping up rich broth with each mouthful of tangled noodles. Next to these two I must seem pretty plain-jane, living a monotonous life in which thrill comes in a sleeve of saltines. But I don’t think chicken noodle soup needs to be boring: I believe it can be classy and subdued, filled with understated depth from a broth made from roasted bones, exuding a quiet confidence with its minimalism.

A great chicken noodle soup recipe is the “little black dress” of your cooking repertoire; it should provide a solid foundation, one that you can dress up or down for the occasion. This recipe is just that, however it would be misguided to label this “simple” soup as also “quick and easy.” Although these phrases often pal around together, they do not mean the same thing. Yes, this is a simple soup with few components, but if you’re looking for comfort to arrive just a little bit more quickly, Daniel’s classic chicken soup recipe is the road to take.

At its most basic, chicken noodle soup is light and brothy—a wholesome and uncomplicated bowl of comfort. I’m looking for a soup that’s deeper and richer than the average, still capable of curing what ails you, while also flaunting a provocative side.

My path is a long one that requires some navigation and planning, but for a soup I’ve committed the rest of my life to, it’s worth it.

The Broth

What Can Brown Do For You?

Chicken and beef stocks can be either white or brown, meaning the bones are either simmered raw or after roasting. White stocks are more versatile due to their tempered flavor, making them ideal for reducing into unctuous pan sauces and adding subtle flavor to risotto and vegetables. The extra step of roasting bones for a stock adds an assertive flavor, which can be overwhelming in some instances, but is exactly what I want for the most chicken-y of chicken soups.

As meat and bones roast, they undergo our favorite flavor process: the Maillard reaction. Their amino acids and sugars recombine to create complex aromas and deep flavors. A stock made from browned bones will taste richer and meatier, without more fat or bones, all thanks to the power of brown. (You can also harness that power to make the most out of your leftover turkey carcass, as Daniel does here in his recipe for brown turkey stock.)

A lot of chicken stock legwork was already done for me by Daniel in his post on how to make the best chicken stock. I used his research as my starting off point, sticking with chicken wings for their ideal flavor-to-cost ratio. I spread the chicken wings directly on an unlined rimmed baking sheet and roast them in a hot oven until they become golden brown.

The wings will render out a good bit of chicken fat, and you’ll want to save every drop of this liquid gold. The browning imparts the chicken fat with the flavor and aromas of roast chicken. I first tried emulsifying this fat into my broth, but found it overwhelmingly rich (more on that below). Not wanting to lose it completely, I looked around for other parts of the recipe where it might be useful, and realized it was perfect for adding depth to the chicken breast, which I cook sous vide and add later. By roasting the wings directly on the sheet tray, I’m able to develop a crackly fond under each piece for maximum browned flavor. While the tray is still piping hot, I splash it with a little water to scrape up all the fond before tossing the wings and liquid into a pot and covering it all with more water.

Brown stocks typically also include browned mirepoix. The carrots, onion, and celery are usually roasted along with the bones in the oven. In additional to their bright and vegetal flavor, roasted mirepoix add sweetness and color. I opt out of the traditional addition of mirepoix and instead add charred onion to the pot for the last moments of cooking. I prefer the flavor of the stock without the distraction of celery and carrot. The onions add enough sweetness and color on their own, while letting the roast chicken remain the star of the show.

Chicken Soup Focus Groups

Many of my burning stock questions were already answered by my colleagues. Daniel discovered that hovering over a pot of stock obsessively skimming every bit of scum and fat didn’t necessarily lead to a clearer stock. Kenji proved that pressure cooker stock and stove top–simmered stock run a tight race, with the pressure cooker stock just edging out the traditional method in taste tests. Still, I conducted a few taste tests to see if opinion changes in the specific context of chicken noodle soup. Spoiler: the answer is yes.

For one taste test I made two batches of brown chicken stock, each with two pounds of roasted bones and a final volume of one and a half quarts. The pressure cooker stock was cooked at full pressure for one hour while the traditional stock was gently simmered for three hours. The two stocks were then served with equal amounts of seasoning, sous vide chicken breast, boiled pasta, fresh dill, and a splash of lemon juice for brightness.

It was unanimous: everyone preferred chicken noodle soup made from the traditional method chicken stock. The pressure cooker stock did extract more flavor while remaining less cloudy, but the additional flavor took the form of a slightly bitter finish from the browned bones. The traditional method stock was full of roasted flavor without the over-extracted taste the of pressure cooker stock.

The tasters also preferred the cloudier stove top stock in the context of the soup for the additional richness it provided, which led me to take a cue from ramen lovers and try emulsifying fat into the broth—I wanted to see if fat really equalled more flavor. I made three stocks, each with equal amounts of roasted chicken wings, all cooked on the stove top for the same amount of time, and I added water at the end to ensure that they all had equal final volumes. One stock was gently simmered the entire time, the other was rapidly boiled the entire time (much like you would for a ramen broth), and the third was boiled for the first fifteen minutes and then simmered the remaining time.

The first simmered broth had good chicken flavor, but was too light to stand up to the juicy chicken cubes and chewy pasta. The second boiled broth was creamy and rich, but the extra fat muted the chicken flavor. Now the third broth, the one that was just briefly boiled, this broth was just right: It had all the deep, roasted chicken aromas I was seeking, with just enough richness and body to stand up to even the most flavorful additions.

Time to Accessorize

I am generally not a fan of chicken breast. I also usually don’t love the one-dimensional soft texture sous vide cooking creates in meats. But somehow, when cooked sous vide, I love chicken breasts, which reminds me that in cooking there are no absolutes. Not only is sous vide chicken tender and moist through precise temperature control, but by bagging the chicken breast with the fat rendered from the roasted wings, you also infuse it with all those heady brown aromas typically lost in poached meat.

After seasoning the chicken breasts with salt, I bag them with some rendered chicken fat and cook them for two hours at 140°F. This yields the perfect texture for soup—no signs of stringiness or shredding, just melt-in-your mouth tender meat. When dry, shredded meat is added to a soup, it drinks up the broth, resulting in a soggy, wet texture rather than something plump and juicy. (If you want to know the full scoop on sous vide chicken, check out Kenji’s in-depth guide here.)

For the pasta, I prefer bite-sized orecchiette. They’re thick and sturdy, hold up well in the broth, and the cupped shape ensures a sip of broth with every bite, but any shape or form of doughy dumpling will do. Cooking the pasta separately is the only way to guarantee the best texture and flavor. If you boil the pasta in the soup, not only does it end up under-seasoned, but it’s also prone to overcooking in the broth.

I keep the chicken and pasta separate, portioning them into bowls just before serving and ladling over hot broth to warm everything through. My preferred finishing touches are a few flecks of chopped dill and a squirt of lemon juice, but with a solid groundwork laid you can build up the bowl however you prefer.

A fling with the boisterous herbs in pho or succulent pork belly in ramen can be tempting, but I’ll always want to come home to chicken noodle soup. Especially when it’s a tricked-out version like this one.

amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "true"; amzn_assoc_search_bar_position = "bottom"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "pramedgro3-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cookware"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "All"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "b45319dac495d29e17b5eff312392025"; Source link