#roasted almond bits

[tasiaadams33]

The Rug Hooking Club Food Of The Day Is

Bit O Honey. It Had A New Look. Same Tasty Treat!

[quenchiestcactusjuice99]

most banger salad in my life.

[toyourliking]

i need to like Eat A Meal today but idk what cause brain scared

[glitteratti]

do any of u all live in vancouver. im thinking about going for a day trip and i need recs for 1) cheap things to do 2) coffee shops to try

[useless-catalanfacts]

Simple food that feels like home 💚 grilled vegetables with romesco sauce.

Romesco is one of the most typical sauces of Catalan cuisine, particularly in the south of Catalonia. It's made of almonds, hazelnuts, smoke-grilled tomato (nowadays, most households make it with oven roasted tomato instead), garlic, sundried ñora pepper, olive oil, salt, pepper, and vinegar, and often a little bit of toasted bread, all of it crushed in a mortar. Each family can make it a little bit different. It goes very well with meats, fish, and vegetables.

Photo from Restaurant Can Maimó (Vilanova del Vallès, Catalonia).

[cuubism]

work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

--

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

[bloomyeu]

i want to request a hyune soft short au please, anything u can think of!! hyun loving hours strong n barely anything to read ;(

always have time for you

pairing: idol bf!hyunjin x afab!reader

summary: hyunjin is out late working, you stay up waiting for him.

word count: 876

warnings: foolish lovers in love, mentioned kissing and a shower !!!! not edited

a/n: this made me feel single

masterlist | requests

Its midnight, you're alone, you’re bored, you're waiting. you wait with kkami and hyunjins favorite blanket. All you can think about is sleep but not seeing hyunjins cute face all day makes you wait. He's probably being a perfectionist, dancing till he's basically dragged out of the practice room. Although you weren't too sure, he could be on his way home right now.

as 12:30 rolls around you decide to text him.

jinnieeeee

where r u :p

While you reread the message, your eyelids grow heavy, and sleep starts to win the battle. You lie there, pondering how long he’s going to take to get home because the sooner he arrives, the sooner you can sleep.

An hour passes, and you check your phone.

delivered.

He hasn’t opened the message yet, but his phone is probably dead, right?

Eventually, you surrender to sleep, curling up on the couch with Kkami on your lap and your phone unplugged.

​​—

The sound of keys clanking outside the door jolts you awake. The doorknob turns, and Hyunjin stumbles in, looking like a sweaty mess. He takes off his shoes and drops his bag, resembling a zombie in his exhaustion.

Hyunjin looks at you, clearly hurt. “Baby, what do you mean I’m smelly? Me, your beautiful, hot, sexy boyfriend? Smelly? Are you smelling yourself?” He sounds both offended and comically dramatic. You’re amazed at how he has so much energy now when just moments ago he was about to crash into the bedroom door. Still, you manage to coax him into the shower.

“Hey, I’ll join you, and we can use that expensive bath bomb Felix gave you,” you suggest softly, gazing into his eyes. Hyunjin nods, and you both head to the bathroom.

“Yeah, we need to get that smelly smell off you. It’s probably there because you weren’t with me today.”

“Hey you, where are you off too at this hour?” you ask with a hint of amusement at his disheveled state.

“Sleep,” he mumbles.

“No, baby. Not yet. You need to shower; you’re all smelly,” you reply.

Hyunjin looks at you, clearly hurt. “Baby, what do you mean I’m smelly? Me, your beautiful, hot, sexy boyfriend? Smelly? Are you smelling yourself?” He sounds both offended and comically dramatic. You’re amazed at how he has so much energy now when just moments ago he was about to crash into the bedroom door. Still, you manage to coax him into the shower.

“Hey, ill even join you and we can use that expensive bath bomb felix gave you” you suggest softly, gazing into his eyes. Hyunjin nods, and you both head to the bathroom.

“Yeah, we need to get that smelly smell off you. It’s probably there because you weren’t with me today.”

The bathtub is warm and filled with so much love, he gives you a massage, you give him sweet kisses, and you both smell like vanilla and roasted almonds. you help him dry his hair while he drains the water, he brushes your hair while you brush your teeth. Both of you just taking care of each other in comfortable silence. 

“tired hm?” 

He just nods. You smile and kiss his cheek.

Once Hyunjin is nestled in your bed, where he and Kkami like to hog the space, you hand him a glass of water and a book. He drinks half and insists you finish the rest.

“You can’t go to sleep dehydrated, baby. It’s not good for you,” he says, whining a bit.

You drink it, pull the cozy comforter over both of you, and light the candle, leaving only a night light on. Hyunjin plays with your hair as he begins to read aloud, lulling both of you toward sleep.

You watch as Hyunjin’s eyes start to flutter shut. You set the book on the nightstand, and he turns off the lights. He pulls you close, almost like a koala, and wraps his arms around you. You run your fingers through his damp hair, and he smiles contentedly.

“How bad was practice today?” you whisper.

“Awful. Chan was in a mood, Minho kept snapping at Han, and Han snapped back. The tension was unbearable and made for a very unproductive day, which led to a semi-productive night alone in the studio.”

“I’m sorry. I know I can’t do much, but I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s okay. I knew I had you waiting for me at home. But why didn’t you sleep? You didn’t have to wait up.”

“I can’t sleep without you, plus it’s always worth it to see you.”

“Aw, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jinnie.”

You push Hyunjin’s hair back and give him a kiss on his forehead, cheek, and finally a light peck on his lips. He pulls you even closer and buries his face in your neck.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

When you don’t respond, he looks up to see you slumped beside him and chuckles softly before drifting off to sleep himself.

“I really don't know what id do without you yn.”

When you're unresponsive, he looks up to check to only see you slumped, he chuckles at that and soon follows you.

masterlist | requests

[oepionie]

—"🍳KITCHEN BLUES"various

💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link

sypnosis: you wouldn't really call yourself a chef. at most, your culinary abilities were barely above average. even so, when your boyfriend becomes overworked, you take your chances and cook something up for him. here's to hoping you don't burn down the entire dorm!

⊹ [ cw ] — slight mentions of injuries, ramshackle's oven is set on fire◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | protective jade, lighthearted mentions of marriage in ruggie's part, leona's back muscles whsg, jamil calls you قلبي 'Albi' (My Heart)◞

⊹ [ character/s ] — trey, leona, ruggie, jade, & jamil

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞

You stare blankly at the ingredients set out before you. The words on the recipe you printed seemed to blur together. Rice noodles, honey, smoked paprika, roasted almonds—you had your job cut out for you, huh?

You turn to face your partner who was dozing off on the rickety couch at Ramshackle, a thin blanket haphazardly thrown atop his body. He looked to be in deep sleep, not minding the worn-out scratchy leather texture of the couch one bit.

Tensed shoulders and fatigue laced his muscles; both evidence of the strain he's been putting on himself as of late. With an ache in your heart, you return your focus to the sizzling pan. Making him lunch was the least you could do to help.

Halfway through preparing the bento, you heard the old couch creak. Your boyfriend finally wakes, he calls for you with bleary eyes and a hoarse voice.

"Prefect?"

✩— TREY CLOVER:

"Oh, you're awake?" You rush over to him, dropping the lunch box onto the counter. Concern laced your features as you pressed a palm against his flushed forehead. Trey sat up, the blanket slipping off his torso and pooling around his hips.

"Mhm. Is something wrong?" Trey chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

"Yeah. This fever of yours is worrying me." You grumbled as you reached for his glasses on the adjoining coffee table. You slipped it onto him and gave him a quick kiss on the nose.

"The unbirthday party is coming up, and you know I have to work extra hard." Trey sighed, rolling his stiff shoulders. Nodding, you silently slipped back into the kitchen to retrieve the bento box. Once you returned, you handed it over to him.

"I know, but I hope you still take the time to rest every now and again." Trey tucked the box under his arm and drew you into a hug. You melted into his embrace, savouring the warmth you'd been missing these past few weeks. He's been so busy that the only affection you've received from him was the ocassional peck on the cheek.

Ten seconds into your little respite from the world, Trey pushed you away with a hand on your shoulder. He sniffed the air, brows pinched.

"Is something on fire?"

"Sevens-! The tarts!"

You clutch a plate of charred black tarts in your hands, head bowed down in shame. Trey chuckled and took a piece of the inedible lump, turning it around in his hand.

"This reminds me of Lillia's cooking."

"You're not helping!"

✩— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona sat on the couch, tail swishing lazily in the air while he watched you work around the kitchen. His emerald gaze swept over your apron-clad body, noticing the honey smeared on your cheek.

Once you finished, you walked over to him with the meal on a tray.

"How was the spelldrive training with the freshmen?" You asked, taking a seat on the floor beside him. He raised his arm to use his elbow to remove the honey off your cheek.

"It was shit." Growling, Leona pushed himself off the couch. He stretched his arms, groaning as his muscles ached from the burn. He was turned away from you, giving you full view of his back muscles straining against the fabric of the tight black shirt he had on; you averted your eyes, suddenly feeling very warm.

"See anything you like?" He grinned and flexed his arms. You squeaked and jumped back, embarrassment written all over your face. "Leona!"

He chuckled as he pulled you off the floor and onto the couch next to him.

"A-Anyways…Epel told me you stormed out in the middle of the game?" You stammered, avoiding his gaze and changing the subject. You scooped some food from the containter and fed it to him. Leona took the spoon in his mouth, chewing it throughly.

"Damn right. None of those idiots could fly straight if their life depended on it." Leona scoffed. You lifted the tray up so he could slip his head onto your lap, face tucked into your stomach.

"I see. I guess they couldn't keep up with you, huh?" You mused, running your hands through his hair whilst feeding him a bite of food.

The flavours and spices melted across his mouth, each ingredient flawlessly blending together. Leona relaxed against your form, satisfied, your food and pampering making him feel like a king.

"Who can?"

✩— RUGGIE BUCCHI:

"Is that food?" Ruggie piped up, wrapping himself in the thin blanket. He was shaped like a taco roll, with only his head sticking out from under the cover. You chuckled and nodded, taking the food you prepared into your arms.

As you brought out a platter of doughnuts along with the bento box, his tail began to wag. You approached him carefully, taking care not to drop the stacks of chocolate doughnuts. Unbeknownst to you, Ruggie was debating whether or not to marry you on the spot.

"Of course. You just looked so exhausted yesterday, I wanted to help." You said, frowning and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Ruggie gulped, his cheeks flushing at your sweet gesture.

"What did I say about slowing down every now and then?" You grumbled, frowning at him.

"W-Well, I kinda lost track yesterday; I swear I won't do it again," Ruggie replied sheepishly, folding his arms behind his head. In truth, you were kinda right. His limbs were killing him with how sore they were right now.

"You better! I can't keep scolding you about this again and again!" You shook your head and sighed. After giving him the platter of doughnuts, you began slipping off the apron you were wearing.

"Shishishi. You sound like a worried spouse." Ruggie snickered, shoving two doughnuts into his mouth. You dropped the apron in your hand, eyes wide at the implications of what Ruggie just said. Snorting at your flustered state, he continued teasing you.

"Spare me! I'm sure you'll have plenty of time in the future to scold me." Ruggie's voice suddenly lowered to a whisper, the playful edge to it gone. "I should prolly start putting off money up for a ring now…"

"Wh-What?!"

✩— JADE LEECH:

"What might this be?" Jade appeared behind you, his towering form pressing itself against your back. An arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him. His hair remained dishevelled and out of place, his physique still sluggish and lethargic. Jade, contrary to popular belief, was not a morning person.

"It's just a simple little bento I'm preparing…Azul told me you skipped out on dinner last night so I um-" Feeling flushed under his intense yet drowsy gaze, you struggled to finish your sentence. "…decided to cook something up for you."

Jade hums, grasping your hands in his own. He instantly pauses as he feels the texture of scratchy woven fabric beneath his skin. The eel looked down to see your hands covered with sloppily placed bandages and bandaids.

He stared down at your damaged hands for a minute, an unsettling smile creeping up his face.

"Who did this." Jade stated firmly, a dark, pointed expression on his face. His fingers rubbed soothing circles over your palm, patiently waiting for your response. "I need names, my pearl."

You fiddled with one of the bandages wrapped around your finger.

"No one did this. I'm just not really the best person to put near a kitchen knife or a pan with boiling oil." You laughed sheepishly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Jade chuckled alongside you. All previous apprehension from him seemed to fade away.

"I see. I appreciate the gesture however I wish you were more careful." Jade leaned down next to your ear, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"Allow me to take care of you first, these bandages are in dire need of a change."

✩— JAMIL VIPER:

"Albi?" Jamil groaned, raising his arms to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. He sat up and instantly regretted his decision when his head started spinning; he could already feel the start of a migraine. You rushed over and shushed him, pushing him to sit back down on the couch.

"Are you okay?" Frowning, you plopped the box open and scooped up some food for him to eat. Jamil leaned forward to take it into his mouth, humming at the taste.

Yesterday's events began to resurface in his mind. He was given a potionology assignment to complete alongside Kalim.

Everything was going smoothly until Kalim made the decision to add some sugar to the cauldron for unknown reasons. The cauldron exploded and Jamil ended up getting hit with the fumes, breathing it in. Which was probably the reason why his head felt like it was being split open.

"A bit. If my memory serves me well, the effects of this potion should wear off in a few hours." He mumbled, allowing himself to get fed by and spoiled by you. You smiled and reached for a napkin to wipe down the corners of his lips. "That's good. Is the food to your liking?"

"It tastes great." Jamil compliments, taking the box into his own hands. "Thank you for looking after me; is there anything you want me to make for you?"

"That curry you gave me the other day! It tasted so good!"

"Of course." Jamil smiled at you. Regardless of the numerous hijinks he has to deal with as Kalim's retainer and Scarabia's vice dorm leader, you've always been an anchor of support for him; holding him firm when everything appears to be sweeping him away.

A/N: This was a request! Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

[thisismeracing]

The (un)lucky one | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 2.4k ― Warnings: not proofread; mentions of food; a bit of jealous!charles; angsty but fluffy ending. ― Summary: Charles and Yn have a history back from when he was at alfa romeo, Yn used to be his PR assistant, and they were close to best friends. Now, years later, they are still friends, but Yn is Carlos’ assistant now, and she can help but root for her new friend and boss. Meanwhile, Charles is having trouble with no longer having her undying support all the time. He’s been through an unlucky season on the speedway, will he be unlucky in love too?  ― A/n: I actually liked this far better than I thought I would, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍

⁕ Based on this request. ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)

It is easy to associate someone with a smell, taste, or color. Especially when those things are very particular. One day you see them wearing a certain shade of yellow; the next thing you know, every yellow item will remind you of them. Not of the clothes they were wearing that day, but of them. Then, they tell you their coffee order, and, of course, every time you see a venti, caramel frappuccino with almond milk, it’s their face you’ll see. When you smell the coffee, their perfume will come around too.

What Charles didn’t know is that these associations are common when you are in love.

And he was, in fact, in love with Yn.

He was just unaware. 

Yn was his PR Assistant back when he was just a curious and hopeful boy in Alfa Romeo. They hit it off quickly, not only because she was young like him, but because she was always honest and just so fun to be around. She would walk into the room, red Converse on her feet, a coffee cup in her hands, along with a small notepad, and a pen either around her neckless or on her ear, and Charles could swear time would stop to let her pass by. 

Yn was an event.

And he was happy to witness it.

She was also very organized. She had everything noted and ready to go in a minute. She was quick with solutions to seemingly hard problems and set on her beliefs. About the latter, people would say that she was simply stubborn like Charles. But he knew better. She was passionate and driven, and he… well, he fell in love, and he didn’t notice it. 

Until they moved to Ferrari.

They have been working together for about three years now, and she had to switch drivers when they started in Ferrari. That meant she was now Carlos’ PR Assistant, and he got to have her full attention – something Charles hated. But he knew her before him, and he knew her better, that’s what he kept telling himself whenever he saw the two of them interact, whenever she had a meeting with his coworker, and not him, or whenever he watched Carlos get her coffee order wrong. He knew her better. That wasn’t much, but somehow it was enough for him.

Until it wasn’t. 

“Hey, Char,” Yn smiles when the Monegasque approaches the table, bending to leave a kiss on her cheeks, and leaving a friendly tap on his teammate’s shoulders. 

“I got you your favorite.” He has that small prideful smile on his face when he pushes the white cup towards Yn, but as fast as the smile comes, it goes when she frowns and a bit her lips.

“Thank you, but Carlos got it to me,” she shook the cup in front of her and winked at her friend and ex-boss. 

“Oh- but Carlos doesn’t know your order.”

“I finally got it right after a thousand times missing either the oat milk or the blonde espresso,” Sainz proudly stated, sipping on his water. 

“And did you get-”

“Caramel syrup, sí.” 

“Four pumps?” 

Carlos nodded, “2 pumps of frapp roast. I’m telling you, I’ve learned it.” 

Yn noticed the way Charles’ shoulders slumped just the sightless, but she thought it had something to do with the fact that he wasted time getting her something that she wouldn’t drink in the end. She did not notice, however, how his eyebrows furrowed and his grip on his cellphone got stronger watching her and Carlos go around what they were doing on Sunday before and after the race. He missed doing it with her, missed having her undying attention, missed the certainty that it doesn’t matter how boring a meeting or media duty would be because she was always just some steps away. 

The next day, Charles is getting ready for the race in the garage, and Yn is around cracking jokes about something one of the engineers did. When she turns, Charles is in his white racing suit, zipping up the front end. Yn lips tip up in a small smile, one he can read as a nostalgic one by the way her eyes roam around the piece of clothing, and takes in a small breath of air. It’s endearing.

“Missing the old days?” Charles asks, sporting a playful smirk, and Yn rolls her eyes teasingly. 

“How’d you know?” 

“It used to be just us against the world. I learned to read you.” He confessed. He almost wanted to add that he missed the old days too, but because her attention and affection would be all his, her time and her eyes would be for him.

Yn took a step closer to him and started helping the Monegasque with the front velcro of his suit. “All this white reminded me of Alfa Romeo’s suit, but though I miss our younger days, I think you look far better wearing Ferrari merch.” This time her smile is pensive and then playful after a beat. 

Charles's hands itched to hold her by the waist, bring her close, and read her eyes, but when he was about to do so, Carlos called Yn from the other side of the garage. Yn gets on the tip of her red converses and kisses his forehead, something they used to do after becoming friends on their first year on the grid, and then, just like that, she leaves to attend to whatever Sainz needed. 

When it was time to get going and get into the car, Charles tried to get a glimpse of Yn, not even a hug or their traditional forehead kiss which hasn’t happened before races in a while, he just wanted to find her eyes, see how they would silently wish him a good race, but instead, he found her with Carlos, her back to him. He watched as Yn patted his shoulder and then got on the tip of her toes to hug him. A long hug. A hug he wanted to receive. 

Charles sacked up all his anger and jealousy and got into his car. It would be a good race. The car was fairly better than the last races, and the Ferrari duo got a p2 and p3 position which increased the chances of double points. 

It's a tight race. Carlos and Charles almost lose their positions during the first few laps, but they were able to hold it until Leclerc needed a tire change. And when he came back the orders were clear: Sainz would not fight with his teammate and would give up his position for Charles. Everyone saw how Yn's face changed when Vasseur spoke through the pit-to-car audio, and man, wasn't she pissed. The camera panelled on her, and she cursed asking why couldn't Carlos have this one.

By the last lap, Charles was p3 and Carlos p5, and it was all the team's fault. Both of them could have had a podium, but strategy wasn't really Ferrari's strongest subject. 

When the three winners gathered in the small room to wait a few minutes for the podium, Charles had a small smile on his face, one which went away when the big screen in the room showed some of the highlights of the race, adding garage reactions this time. He saw Yn questioning why Carlos couldn't fight him, why wouldn't they give her boss and friend his well-deserved podium. Charles knew she fought nails and teeth for those she loved, and she wouldn't hide her disappointment with Ferrari's decision. 

He expected, however, that she would choose him to fight for because he was her closest friend there. He was with her the longest. He would have fought nails and teeth for her win. 

The podium celebration didn’t feel as good as it would back when he would have Yn’s undying support. Charles still smiled, still waved, still tried to seem happy with his achievement, and he kept the friendly face up until he got back in the garage and Yn was there by Carlos' side as usual. Sainz congratulated him on his podium, but the Monegasque only nodded, lacing his fingers with Yn’s and walking straight to his driver’s room.

“What the fuck was that mouthy response to the team's order of letting me pass Carlos?” 

Yn was still surprised by how he laced their fingers and almost dragged her to his room, so hearing his hushed and stressed tone made her frown deepen. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to in that tone?” 

Charles’ jaw tightened. “Don’t try deflecting, Yn. I saw how mad you were when I passed Carlos.”

“And what about it, Charles?” 

“I can’t believe you’re acting so unbothered by it. It was a shitty attitude, and you know it.”

“Because everyone’s supposed to adore you and always choose you?” 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND, AND YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ROOT FOR ME, TO PICK ME, NOT CARLOS, NOT LANDO, NOT LEWIS, BUT ME!” He exploded, voice raised, hands gripping his champagne-wet hair. 

Yn took one step in his direction, pointing her index finger at him, “Don’t you dare to scream at me, Charles. I won’t let you work off your frustrations on me, especially when you don’t have reasons to be angry!” 

“I DON’T?” he screamed again, and she raised her eyebrows. “You think watching my own team destroy my chances at being a world champion is not reason enough to be angry? Or having your best friend distance herself from you? Oh, wait! And how about seeing the woman I love rooting for a different driver?” this time his voice wasn’t as high as before, but he was still loud, he was still angry.

What he seemed to forget was that he and Yn were like a mirror most of the time. They would reflect each other’s energy and feelings. So if Charles was angry, Yn was furious. And if he was heartbroken, she was devastated. 

“I was your friend before him! I’m your best friend,” he whispered, finally letting tiredness and sadness catch up to him. 

“You are indeed, but not everything is about you or us. Others deserve to win too, and they deserve some love and attention. Carlos deserved it today. We’ll talk when you’re not acting like a dick and screaming at me for being oblivious to the feelings you kept hidden.” She stated before turning away and leaving, slamming the door on her way out. 

Charles sat down on his chair and let his head hang between his shoulders. His eyes were burning and he felt like cursing and screaming again when he heard Carlos’ voice. Now, Carlos was his friend, his teammate, a good guy, someone he even liked to have around, but he was jealous of him, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. And right now, he was the last person he wanted to see.

“You could have told me, you know?” the Spanish closed the door behind him slowly.

“Not now, Carlos,” Charles mumbled.

“She doesn’t like me. I mean- she does like me, but not as much as she likes you, not as much as she loves you. You’re two tontos.”

“Well, you can bet she hates me now. I take it you heard how I talked to her, right? The whole garage must have heard.” 

Carlos chuckled at Charles' dramatic antics. “Not everyone heard, but yeah, some people did… I don’t think she hates you though, she’s just angry with the way you talked and probably angry you didn’t tell her you loved her sooner.”

“I’m usually unlucky, and I was afraid-”

“No, Charles,” Carlos interrupted. “The team's strategy is shitty, we take it as if we were the unlucky ones, but we are actually pretty lucky. Look at the life you have. Look at how many people love you. The woman you love loves you back. How’s that being unlucky?” 

“Yeah, I was afraid my love life would be as shitty as my racing career.” 

“I’ll let that one pass because you have the right to be upset for a bit after this stressful weekend, but you don’t have a shitty career, and you know it.”

Charles nods, snickering.

“I was jealous, you know,” he confessed after a couple of minutes in silence. “You deserve to win too. You deserve to be a world champion just like I do, but I wanted her support. I wanted her to choose me even though everyone else did. She was the only one that mattered. But I’m an idiot, and I didn’t tell her that. How could she guess?”

“Yeah, life is unfair sometimes, and feelings are hard to deal with, but the good thing is that you can work on those things most of the time. Shower, drink some water, get some food in, and then when you’re calm enough, go to her and let Yn know your feelings. Again. Gently this time, preferably.” Sainz chuckles lightly between the last sentence, and Charles rolls his eyes playfully. 

And that’s exactly what Charles did. That’s how he found himself breathing in and out in front of Yn’s hotel room door. He rings the bell after almost five minutes of silent pep talk. When Yn opens the door, she’s already in her pajamas, and he can almost see tear stains on her cheeks. Charles feels like punching his own face because clearly, he was the one to blame. 

“What do you want, Charls?” her tone was tight, and she did not invite him in, but the fact that Yn used his nickname gave Charles enough hope and courage to talk.

“I- I’m sorry for earlier,” he started. “I’m truly sorry for all these years. I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry I exploded and screamed at you. I should have told you I loved you before. And you’re right. I’m not the center of the world. Carlos deserves to win too. But it’s just- I’m usually unlucky in some aspects, and I was afraid-”

Yn rolls her eyes and grins playfully at him, interrupting his messy speech. “No, Charles, you’re actually lucky because I do love you back,” she grins, and he stares at her for a beat before crashing their lips into a passionate kiss.  

And Charles felt like the luckiest guy in the world. No winning cup felt as sweet as having the girl of his dreams loving him back. 

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Every time you reblog and comment on my stuff a fairy is born somewhere, make sure you're creating glittery fairies around the world hihi *forehead kiss*

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[invisible-goats]

Hello! I hear you're vibrating with barely contained positivity so I'd appreciate it if you could weigh in on what I should make for dinner. Last night we had roast cauliflower and black bean tacos with chipotle crema and a sort of curtido style slaw, so I want to do something different tonight. Maybe Indian? Or Thai? Any ideas?

ok what you're gonna do is put your protein of choice in a bowl with some natural yoghurt, turmeric, garlic, ginger, chili powder and ground coriander seed and leave that in the fridge for at least half an hour

then you're gonna toast some cardamom, cinnamon, and garam masala in a pan, then chuck in some chopped onion, garlic, and ginger, and a whole chili until the whole thing's fragrant af

then you're gonna pour in some almond milk, plus some red wine if you feel fancy, simmer it for a bit, and blend the shit out of it

brown off your protein *in the same pan*, add your protein back in, and simmer some more

then you're gonna stir in some cream and serve over rice, and add some flaked almonds if you're feeling *extra* fancy

(it's pasanda it's my fav curry by a country mile)

[chloesolace]

I Can See You - Stephen Strange x Reader [Christmas Special]

summary: You are a student of the mystic arts, studying at the Sanctum Sanctorum under Doctor Strange's and Wong's guidance. You are nearing the end of your apprenticeship, and ready to celebrate at the Kamar-Taj Christmas party, yet your growing attraction to Stephen makes it hard to focus on much else (not even those delicious roasted almonds you love so much). When you sprain your ankle, and Stephen is there to offer his aid, you realize that his cold demeanor towards you might not be because of negative feelings after all.

pairing: Stephen Strange x Apprentice!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: age gap

a/n: Merry Christmas everyone! This is another contribution to my Swift series <3 and a Christmas special. My next one shots will be accepted requests.

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

And we kept everything professional But something's changed, it's something I like They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You were standing in the hallway of the Sanctum Sanctorum, a book in your hand. Quietly humming the tune you were listening to through your earbuds, you browsed the pages. The Sanctum was quiet, with Wong away on some business and Stephen having barricaded himself in his study. Most days were like this, so you had to find ways to entertain yourself when Stephen or Wong did not bother you with magical training. 

You were in the last year of your apprenticeship and could call yourself a master of the mystic arts as soon as next year was only one week away. You had been looking forward to spending this month with Christmas activities, but had been met with extra work given to you by your fellow sorcerers. Although you were their apprentice, you had become more of a friend who was magically similarly powerful to them already, just in a different way.

As a natural witch, you had a certain affinity towards magic, yet the mystic arts were not the type of magic that was inherited and so you had had to work your way up the ladder just like any other student of Kamar-Taj had. 

You hadn't been to Kamar-Taj in ages, so you were very excited about the Christmas party that would take place later today. You would see your friends from your first year at the temple again. It was extremely exciting to properly socialize since Stephen barely paid attention to you outside of his lectures and assignments, and you barely knew anyone from this city; you had grown up in a remote town far away from New York.

You put the book back where it belonged and left the living area to climb the large staircase that dominated the foyer. Its railing had been decorated with lights that glowed in even intervals. 

“(y/n)!” You heard someone shout your name behind you, so you stopped in your tracks and turned around, tapping on your left earbud once so the music would stop. 

Stephen stood in front of you with his arms crossed in front of his chest and an annoyed expression on his face.

“Have you finished your paper on interdimensional threat elimination yet? Wong said he’s still waiting for your email.”

“Of course,” you replied, taking the earbuds out and dropping them into your pocket. “I wanted to send it to him just now.” You wanted to say how unnecessary it was to give you one last assignment that was due on Christmas, and a theory one at that, but you bit your tongue and swallowed the thought.

He hummed a response, cold gaze lingering on you while he seemed to think about your answer. Without another word, Stephen then turned on his heel and left for the kitchen, leaving you standing on the staircase. 

You sighed and continued towards your room. The way he spoke with you lately was getting on your nerves, and you realized how he could sometimes not even look at you. It stung, wondering how his opinion of you could have dropped this much, especially in regards to the secret feelings you harbored for the sorcerer.

You closed the door behind you when you reached your room, trying to forget the encounter you had just had. Your room was moderately sized, with antique furniture and a large golden mirror next to your king-sized bed, neatly made with green velvet bedding. 

To get into the Christmas spirit, you had decorated your room a little with some lights and a wreath, whose four thick candles were each lit, enchanted so they wouldn't extinguish or transfer the flame to any flammable object. 

You approached your desk in front of your window, letting yourself sink into the office chair in front of it. You had a good view of the business of Bleecker Street, so you observed for just a moment longer. There were many cars today, and people dressed in thick jackets that kept them safe from the falling snow, carrying presents in large bags or underneath their arms.

You smiled softly as you opened your laptop and quickly sent Wong and Stephen the PDF document. Normally, you would have gone over it again but today you really did not have the nerve or the motivation to do so. Besides, you had been done with it for almost a week already. 

After placing your earbuds back inside their case and leaving them on your nightstand, you exited your room, heading down the hall to Stephen's study. It was the first room next to the stairs, and its door was typically closed. Today was no exception. You knocked carefully and pushed it open a bit.

“Yes?” Stephen said without looking up, keeping his eyes firmly on the book he held in his hands.

You opened the door further and leaned against the doorframe, studying your mentor with a raised eyebrow. Sometimes, you wondered if he used his excessive research as a coping mechanism, as there was no way a single person could be so intertwined with their work.

“I sent you the email,” you informed him, your eyes resting on the book in his hands. “And I was wondering when you would want to meet downstairs for the Christmas party at Kamar-Taj.”

Stephen sighed, placing the book back onto the shelf. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

"Right, the Christmas party," he said. "Wong mentioned it.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to read him, realizing that he had forgotten all about it until now. You sighed, averting your gaze for a moment.

“You don't plan to attend?”

“I do not. It would be irresponsible of me to leave the Sanctum unattended on Christmas.” He walked around his desk and let himself fall into his chair, turning his PC on with a click of his mouse.

“The last time you went to a party was the full moon one two years ago,” you reminded him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He was about to reply when he stopped for a second, looking at you perplexed. “You remember that?”

“Either way,” you continued, ignoring his question as you placed one hand on his mahogany desk, “Wong said he'd make sure someone would be there to take care of the Sanctum. So if you want to come along, he and I will meet in the foyer at seven.”

Stephen looked up at you while his fingers ghosted over the keyboard of his PC, but you didn't give him time to answer as you turned and left his study, closing the door behind you.

It took you some time to get ready, and music could be heard coming from your room throughout it all. You had opted for a short red dress that sparkled in the light of your room. It was dark outside when you were done, and you were very thankful for the time spell put on Kamar-Taj today so that time zones did not matter. You couldn't imagine getting ready like this at eight in the morning.

You put on your heels, and grabbed your coat and a clutch before you left your room, locking it with your magic. The cold New York air caused goosebumps to appear on your legs; a window must have been opened somewhere. 

You descended the stairs, gripping the railing to steady yourself in the heels you wore, careful not to trip. A smile appeared on your face as you spotted Wong standing at the foot of the stairs. He was dressed elegantly, yet not overly so for a simple Christmas party.

“Will Stephen not be joining us?” he asked, blinking at you while scanning the stairs behind you in search of the other man. You merely shrugged your shoulders in response.

Before you could reply, Stephen emerged from the Sanctum library to your right and joined the two of you. He wore a white shirt and a tie, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his black trousers. A red scarf hung around his shoulders, and you immediately recognized the cloak of levitation’s pattern in the fabric.

“And here I thought you'd be spending most of the evening studying a tome,” you teased, looking up at him to meet his eye.

“Well, this party can also be seen as a celebration of you becoming a master of the mystic arts. What kind of mentor would I be if I didn't celebrate that?”

Wong shook his head, extending his arms to create a portal in the middle of the Sanctum’s foyer. It came alive in a frame of sparks, glistening yellow and bright, reflecting in the gemstone you were wearing around your neck. It had no magic, yet it complemented your eyes.

“(y/n) is more of a friend than an apprentice, Stephen. To both of us. You should not see this as an obligation.”

You pursed your lips as the awkward silence that followed, but Wong had only said the words out loud that you had been thinking the entire past weeks.

Stephen did not reply and you could not bring yourself to meet his eye, so you only offered Wong a faint smile before stepping through the portal. 

All three of you exited the portal in the heart of Kamar-Taj, where ancient buildings adorned with mystical symbols rose against the darkening sky. A warm, magical glow enveloped the surroundings as you entered the main building, greeted by practitioners of the mystic arts who were adorned in elaborate robes, mingled beneath enchanted decorations that turned the air into a cascade of glittering snowflakes. The aroma of exotic spices drifted through the air, and you immediately felt your mouth water. 

You navigated through the lively crowd, and your face lit up when you spotted old friends and mentors from your time at the temple. You immediately engaged in conversation with them, Stephen and Wong joining you. Each of you took a drink from a nearby floating tray, clinking your glasses. Wong seemed to be feeling particularly sociable, but Stephen did not say much, his gaze occasionally landing on you or his wine glass.

“Please excuse me,” Stephen said after a while, leaning towards your little group so he could be heard better against the loud music and vibrant chatter around you.

When he turned to leave, he accidentally brushed his hand against yours in the process, causing you to freeze for a second and meet his gaze. His bright blue eyes held you captive, and you swore you could hear the music fade in the background. Before you could react in any way, however, Stephen had already cleared his throat and maneuvered around you, downing his drink.

You looked after him, lips slightly parted, before Roslyn, a girl who had started her magical studies around the same time as you, snapped you back into reality. “You good, (y/n)?”

“Um, yeah,” you replied, smiling a little awkwardly when you looked at Wong, who had a faint grin on his lips. “What?” you asked, almost snapped, but Wong only raised his arms in defense.

“I didn’t say anything.”

You cleared your throat again, offering the gathered a smile before excusing yourself as well. You found your way to the buffet outside with flushed cheeks, set up in a place usually used for training. The air was cool but not cold enough to make you shiver. You smiled at the faces that were familiar to you and muttered a few greetings when people approached you.

The buffet was large, but your focus lay on a bowl with roasted almonds, which you had always loved since you were a little child. You took a smaller bowl and a spoon and put some almonds in yours before leaving the training area, popping one deliciously sweet almond into your mouth. As you were about to climb the flight of stairs leading back up to the main building, a drunk boy, who couldn't have been older than sixteen, bumped into you.

You tried to regain your balance, but you stepped onto the stone floor wrong, causing your ankle to twist at an awkward angle. Hissing, you held your ankle as a sharp pain shot through your leg. Your bowl of almonds had shattered on the ground next to you, and you stoically twirled your hand, using witchcraft to make the pieces disappear. The mystic arts required too much concentration and handwork at times, and your innate magic often came in handy.

“Watch where you’re going, dude!” you shouted, but the boy had already left. He probably did not even realize what happened.

You attempted to walk, but each step hurt more than the other, so you took your heels off and limped into the building. Shoes dangling from your right hand, you used the other to hold onto pillars and walls to stabilize yourself, trying to find a quiet spot. At this time, the library would be empty, and it was not far either.

With the aid of magic, you opened the heavy library door and let it fall shut behind you, exhaling deeply as the loud noises were muffled by the door. Cursing, you slowly walked over to an armchair nearby and sat down on it. Your heels landed on the floor, your hands both massaging the hurting ankle. You barely even registered the books that surrounded you, some of which were bound by chains. Back when you were studying in Kamar-Taj, you had always wondered about their contents, but now you could only focus on the pain.

“(y/n)?” You heard Stephen ask, lifting your head to see him appear from behind a bookshelf, brow raised. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Some drunkard ran into me, and I think I sprained my ankle.” You leaned back in your seat, sighing as you cursed yourself for never having shown much interest in healing magic.

Stephen put the book in his hands aside and approached you. “Let me see,” he said calmly as he crouched down in front of you and lifted your ankle with his hands. You hissed at the sudden contact, the pain intensifying for a second. You sometimes forgot that he had been a surgeon before a sorcerer, so you watched as his skillful hands felt for any severe injury, occasionally causing you to wince in pain.

“It’s sprained,” he agreed, not waiting for a response. His hands began to glow in a faint yellow light, the healing warmth instantly relieving your stressed joint. As Stephen slowly worked on your ankle, your eyes locked. His hand traced gentle circles on your skin, and you weren’t sure whether this was required for the spell, but you did not protest, even finding yourself closing your eyes in response to his touch.

“You have a knack for finding trouble. I don’t think that’s ever going to change, is it?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips as you opened your eyes to meet his.

“A sprained ankle is hardly trouble, compared to the other things you had to keep up with these past two years,” you said, chuckling softly. He did not reply.

The pain ceased, and Stephen let go of your ankle. He rested his arm on his knee as you studied the injury, realizing that he had healed it completely.

“Thanks,” you said a little shyly, which even surprised you.

Not wanting the situation to turn into an awkward silence, you stood from your seat, causing him to do the same.

You were about to turn and leave, lips parted to say goodbye, when you noticed him staring at something above you. You followed his eyes and blushed deeply as you saw mistletoe floating in the air between you, surrounded by a golden shimmer.

Swallowing, you looked back at him, blushing deeper as you asked, “Are you doing this?”

You felt stupid because of how hopeful your voice sounded; it was hard to deny you liked him, but he had always been rather cold towards you, which was why you were so glad that Wong had always been so nice to you. If he only knew the way you saw him, you were sure he’d never speak to you again.

Stephen looked from the mistletoe to you, shaking his head slowly. “No, I'm not.”

Realizing that this must be some joke one of the other sorcerers was playing on you, you quickly excused yourself and apologized, turning to leave when his hand on your wrist stopped you.

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide in surprise.

“I didn't say you have to leave,” he whispered, his eyes briefly dropping to your lips. It was hard to breathe when you watched him inch closer towards you, giving you enough time to back away if you wanted to.

He raised his hand to touch your cheek gently, brushing some strands of hair out of your face before burying his fingers in your waves. Something had changed in the way he looked at you, and now that you thought about it, it had changed a while ago already. Precisely around the time he had started acting colder towards you.

Stephen was so close now that you could see the small dark speckle in his blue eyes, something you had never really noticed before. You held your breath as you saw him pull away, conflict written all over his face.

It was your turn to hold onto his wrist, making him look at you. You didn’t know what encouraged you to press your lips against his, but as it happened, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him close. You felt him tense against you; he had not anticipated your boldness, but soon he melted into the kiss, holding you by the small of your back.

As you pulled away, you smiled up at him, only to realize that the mistletoe had disappeared, but Stephen placed a hand on your cheek and directed your gaze back to him.

“Merry Christmas, (y/n),” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You saw how your red lipstick had stained his own lips. With a small smile, Stephen leaned in again, capturing your lips in another lingering kiss. The soft glow of your magic enveloped you both, creating an aura of enchantment in the quiet corner of the mystical library. It was in involuntary response to his touch; emotions guiding sorcery. As he pulled away, he met your gaze, and there was a newfound warmth in his eyes, a spark of something unspoken yet profound. 

I can see you in your suit and your necktie Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight" Then we kissed and you know I won't ever tell

[somethingclevermahogony]

A Recipe for Daropaka and a Korithian Meal

Hello everyone! (More than) A few days ago I said that, as a way to celebrate reaching 200 followers that I would make one of the dishes from the setting of my WIP. I did something similar for 100 followers which you can see here. This time around I put up a poll to see what dish you all would like to see based on the favorite dishes of my OCs. You voted for Otilia's favorite food, a cheesecake (Daropaka) from the land of Korithia.

However because I felt a bit bad about how long it took me to get to this and because I needed to make something for dinner anyway, I prepared an entire Korithian meal, specifically the last dinner Otilia ate before she left her homeland.

I will give a short description and some history for each component of the meal and will also provide recipes. These recipes come specifically from the Korithian city-state of Kalmanati.

BIG POST ALERT

The diet of Korithians is highly reliant on cereals, grapes, and olives. Barley is the most commonly consumed cereal and is used in the bread of most commoners. However, Kalmanati is famed for the quality of its wheat, and particularly among the wealthy, wheat is the cereal grain of choice. Legumes (Lentils, peas, vetch, beans, etc), vegetables (Cabbage, carrots, lettuce, seaweeds, artichokes, asparagus, onions, garlic, cucumber, beets, parsnips, etc.) and fruits/nuts (pomegranate, almond, fig, pear, plum, apple, dates, chestnuts, beechnuts, walnuts, rilogabo(Kishite regalu "Sunfruit"), bokigabo (Kishite botagalu "Northern fruit), etc.) also make up a significant portion of the Korithian diet, with meat (Cattle, lamb, pig, goat, goose, duck, horned-rabbit, game) and fish typically filling a relatively minor role except for in the diets of wealthy individuals (like Otilia).

Vinegar, oil, and garlic appear in almost all Korithian dishes and are an essential aspect of the Korithian palate.

Recipes below the cut!

The components of the meal are as follows:

Daropaka: (Korithian: Daro = cheese, paka = cake)

Karunbarono: (Korithian: Karun = meat, baro = fire (barono = roasted) )

Pasrosi Diki: (Korithian: Pasrosi = fish(es), Diki = small)

Psampisa : (Korithian: Psamsa = bread, episa = flat)

Akuraros : (Korithian: Akuraros = cucumber)

Ewisasi : (Korithian: Ewisasi = olives)

Funemikiwados: (Korithian: Funemiki = hill (mountain diminutive), wados = oil/sauce)

Wumos: (Korithian: Wumos = wine)

Daropaka aka Awaxpaka aka Korithian Cheesecake

Daropaka is a popular dessert in Korithia, however its origins predate Korithia by several thousand years.

The dish originates from a race of forestfolk living on the Minosa, known as the Awaxi. The Awaxi were a tall and powerful race, some rivaling even demigods in size. Aside from their size the Awaxi were also easily identifiable by the third eye which sat on their forehead and the porcupine like quills which grew from their shoulders, sometimes called the Awaxi mantle.

The Awaxi were a primarily pastoralist civilization, living in small semi-temporary communities where they raised cattle and goats. They are credited with inventing cheese.

The first humans that the Awaxi came into contact with were the Arkodians. The Arkodians introduced the Awaxi to metallurgy, and in exchange the Arkodians were given knowledge of the cheesemaking process. This early form of cheese was called darawa (Korithian: Daro) and was typically made from cow's milk and vinegar, the resulting cheese being soft and crumbly, similar to a ricotta.

Unfortunately peace would not last. The Awaxi settled disagreements and debates often through duels, rather than through war. While quite skilled duelists, their culture had no reference for strategy in battle and lacked the proper skills to fend off the organized assault from imperialistic Arkodians. The Awaxi were eventually driven to extinction, though they still appear as monsters in Korithian myth.

The Arkodians themselves would later fall, destroyed by the Kishites, however many of their recipes, including their recipe for cheesecake, would be passed down to their descendants, the Korithians.

Recipe

(Note that Korithia has no distinct set of measurements nor are recipes recorded. Recipes are typically passed down orally and differ greatly between regions and even families. Adjust ingredients to one's own liking) (Also note that this is not like a modern cheesecake, as it utilizes a ricotta like cheese the texture will not be as smooth and it doesn't use eggs as chickens have not yet been introduced to Korithia)

The Cheese

1/2 Gallon of Whole Cow or Goats Milk

1 Pinch of Sea Salt

2 Bay leaves

2 Tablespoons of White Vinegar

1 Large Ripe Pear

6 Tablespoons Honey

2 Tablespoons White Wheat Flour

1 Tablespoon Rilogabo Juice (substitute 1:1 Orange and Lemon juice)

The Crust

1 Cup White Wheat flour

Water, Warm

1 Pinch of Sea salt

The Topping

1 Sprig Rosemary

3 tablespoon honey

2 tablespoon rilogabo juice (see above)

1 Large pear (optional)

Fill a pot with milk. Stir in salt and add bay leaves. Heat over medium heat until milk registers around 190 F, do not allow to boil. Look for slight foaming on the surface, when the temperature has been reached, remove the bay leaves and add vinegar, the curds will begin to form immediately, stir to fully incorporate vinegar without breaking curds. Stop.

Take the pot off of the heat and cover, allow it to sit for 15 minutes.

Using cheesecloth, a fine mesh strainer or both, separate the curds from the whey. Allow the curds to cool and drain off excess liquid.

Preheat the oven to 410 F or 210 C. Grease the bottom and sides of an 8 inch cake pan with olive oil.

While cheese is draining, make the crust. Knead the white wheat flour with a pinch of salt and warm water for about 15-20 minutes, until obtaining a smooth consistency. Roll a thin circular sheet larger than the cake pan. Lay the dough inside, trim off any dough which hangs over the edge of the pan.

Skin and seed 1 large pear, using either a mortar and pestle or a food processor, break the pear down into a paste or puree, there should be no large visible chunks.

Combine drained cheese, 6 tbsp honey, pear puree, flour, and rilogabo juice. Using a food processor or other implement combine ingredients until a smooth texture is achieved. Taste and add honey accordingly

Pour the mixture into the pan, careful not to exceed the height of the crust. Top with a sprig of rosemary and place into the oven.

Cook for 25-30 minutes or until the filling has set and the surface is golden.

Make the topping by combining 3 tablespoons of honey and the remaining rilogabo juice.

Remove cake from the oven and pour the topping over the surface. Allow the cake to cool

Serve warm, cold, or room temperature with fresh fruit.

Karunbarono aka Roasted Meat

Cooking meat on skewers is a staple of Korithian cuisine, so much so that in certain regions the metal skewers or kartorosi, can be used as a form of currency. Meat is typically cooked over an open fire or on portable terracotta grills, though it is not unheard of to use a large beehive shaped oven or baros. The majority of the meat eaten by the lower classes comes in the form of small game such as rabbit or sausages made from the scraps of pork, beef, mutton, poultry, and even seafood left after the processing of more high-class cuts. The chicken has not yet been properly introduced to the islands, though some descendants of pre-Calamity chickens do exist, though they in most cases have drastically changed because of wild magic. Animals are rarely eaten young, lambs for example are almost never eaten as their potential for producing wool is too valuable. Most animals are allowed to age well past adulthood, except for in special circumstances. The practice of cooking meat in this style is prehistoric stretching back far before Korithia or Arkodai. What is newer however is the practice or marinading the meat before cooking it, this is a Korithian and later Kishite innovation.

Recipe

1 lb Mutton (meat used in this recipe), beef, lamb, venison, or horned-rabbit meat (in order to achieve this it is suggested to use wild hare meat in combination with pork fatback) chopped into bite sized pieces

4 Tablespoons Plain Greek Yogurt

4 Tablespoons Dry Red wine (Any dry red will work, for this recipe I used a Montepulciano d'abruzzo but an Agiorgitiko would work perfectly for this)

3 Tablespoons Olive Oil

4 Cloves of Garlic roughly chopped

1 Small onion roughly chopped

1 sprig fresh thyme

1 sprig fresh rosemary

1 tsp sea salt

1 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp ground cumin

Gather and measure ingredients

Combine everything into a large bowl and stir, making sure that all pieces of meat are covered in the marinade.

Cover and allow meat to sit, preferably in the fridge for 2 hours or up to overnight.

Well the meat is marinating, if using wooden or bamboo skewers, soak in water for at least one hour to prevent burning.

Preheat the oven to 400 F or roughly 205 C. Or if cooking an open fire, allow an even coal bed to form.

Remove meat from the fridge, clean off excess marinade including any chunks of garlic or onion

Place meat tightly onto the skewers making sure that each piece is secure and will not fall off.

Brush each skewer with olive oil and additional salt and pepper to taste, optionally add a drizzle of red wine vinegar.

Place on a grate either in the oven with a pan below it to catch drippings or else over the fire. Allow to cook for 10-20 minutes depending on how well you want your meat cooked (less if using an open fire) Check every five minutes, flipping the meat after each check.

Remove from the oven and serve immediately.

Pasrosi Diki aka Little Fishes

Despite living by the sea, fish makes up a surprisingly small part of most Korithians' diet. The most valuable fish typically live far away from shore, where storms and sea monsters are a serious threat to ships. Much of the fish that is eaten are from smaller shallow water species, freshwater species, or shellfish. Tuna, swordfish, sturgeon, and ray are considered delicacies, typically reserved for the wealthy. Marine mammals such as porpoise are eaten on rare occasions, typically for ceremonial events. Pike, catfish, eel, sprats, sardines, mullet, squid, octopus, oysters, clams, and crabs are all consumed by the poorer classes. Sprats and sardines are by far the most well represented fish in the Korithian diet, typically fried or salted, or even ground and used in sauces. This particular recipe makes use of sprats. Unlike their neighbors in Baalkes and Ikopesh, Korithians rarely eat their fish raw with the exception of oysters.

Recipe

(Note that unlike modern recipes using whitebait, these are not breaded or battered as this particular cooking art has not yet been adopted in Korithia, though it is in its infancy in parts of Kishetal)

10-15 Sprats (other small fish or "whitebait" can also be used)

2 quarts of olive oil (not extra virgin)

Sea salt to taste

Black Pepper to Taste

Red Wine Vinegar to taste

Gather ingredients

Inspect fish, look for fish with clear eyes and with an inoffensive smell, avoid overly smelly or damaged fish.

Pour olive oil into a cast iron skillet or other high sided cooking vessel and heat to approximately 350 F or 177 C.

Fry the fish in batches of 5, stirring regularly to keep them from sticking. Cook for 2-4 minutes until the fish have started to crisp. Be careful, some fish may pop and spit.

Remove fish from the oil and allow them to drain.

Season fish with salt, pepper, and vinegar and serve.

Psampisa aka Flatbread

There are many varieties of bread eaten in Korithia and grain products make up anywhere from 50 to 80 percent of an average individuals diet. This particular variety of bread is most popular in the southern and eastern portions of Korithia, whereas a fluffier yeasted loaves are more commonly eaten in the west and north. This recipe is specifically made with wheat but similar breads can also be made with barley or with mixtures. If you do not want to make this bread yourself it can be substituted with most pita breads. Bread is served with every meal and some meals may feature multiple varieties of bread.

(Note for this recipe I only had self-raising flour at hand which gives a slightly puffier bread, if this is what you want add roughly 3 tsps baking powder)

Recipe

2 1/2 cups white wheat flour plus more for surface

1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt

1 cup whole fat greek yogurt

Olive oil for cooking

In a large bowl, mix together the flour, salt and baking powder. Add the yogurt and combine using a wooden spoon or hands until well incorporated

Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead by hand for 5 minutes until the dough feels smooth.

Cover the dough and allow to sit for approximately 20 minutes

Separate dough into desired number of flatbreads.

Add flour to each dough ball with your hands and then use a rolling pin to flatten out the dough on a lightly floured surface. Size is up to taste.

Heat a pan on medium high heat. Add the olive oil and cook the flatbreads one at a time for about 2-4 minutes, depending on thickness, per side until the bread is puffed and parts of it has become golden brown.

Akuraros aka Cucumber (Salad)

While the cucumber has become a relatively popular crop within Korithian agriculture it is not native and was all but unknown to their Arkodian predecessors. Cucumbers, which actually originated in Sinria and Ukar, were introduced by Kishite invaders during the Arko-Kishite war and were subsequently adopted by the survivors of that conflict. Cucumbers are associated with health and in particular with fertility. Cucumbers are typically eaten raw or pickled. They may be used in salads or even in drinks, ground into medicinal juices. Cucumbers are additionally believed to ward off disease carrying spirits and may be hung outside of the doors of sick individuals to ward off evil entities. Cucumbers are also fed to learning sages, as they are believed to strengthen the resolve and spirit. A potion consisting of the magical herbs wumopalo and lisapalo, wine, and cucumber juice has historically been used to temporarily induce in non-sages the ability to see spirits. Dill is additionally believed to produce positive effects, thought to ward of diseases of the stomach and cancers. Dill is often used in potions which may effect the physical nature of an individual, these potions are rarely used as their effects are most often permanent to some extent.

This particular cucumber salad recipe is a favorite in the region around Kalmanati, Bokith.

Recipe

1 large cucumber cleaned

2 cloves garlic roughly chopped

2 tablespoons fresh dill chopped

1/3 cup red wine vinegar

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Salt to taste

Pepper to taste

Cumin to taste

Cut cucumber into thin slices (the actual width will vary dependent on taste)

Combine cucumber and all other ingredients in a non-reactive container and mix.

Cover and store the salad for at least 30 minutes and up to 12 hours.

Serve cold

Ewisasi aka Olives

The Ewasi or olive is in many ways the center of Korithian cuisine, as it is also in Baalkes and Knosh. Olive oil is used regularly and the olive fruit is consumed at all meals of the day including dessert. Olives are cured via the use of water, vinegar, brines, or dry salt in order to remove their innate bitterness. There are hundreds of varieties of olive in Korithia alone, their taste dependent on when they are harvested, how they are cured, the particular cultivar, and even the soil in which they are grown. Kalmanati is best known for two varities of olive, the kalmi, which is red fleshed and meaty, typically cured in red wine vinegar, and the prasiki, a small green olive which is firm and slightly nutty in flavor.

Recipe

Take your favorite olives, put them in a bowl. Optionally add vinegar and herbs

Funemikiwados aka Hill Sauce

Hill sauce is the condiment of choice for most Korithian households and the exact nature of the sauce will vary greatly from region to region. In the north it is most often composed of pine nuts, olive oil, onion, vinegar, salt, and garlic. In the south the sauce is typically far more marine in nature, composed of seaweed, fish, garlic, olive oil, and vinegar. In all cases the ingredients are combined and mashed or ground to produce a pourable/dipable sauce. The sauce itself originates from the center of Korithia around the city of Bokakolis. The sauce was originally used by shepherds to flavor dried meats which may otherwise be dry or flavorless. Its name derives from the ingredients used within these early versions of the sauce, many of which were herbs plucked from the hillside while the shepherds tended to their flocks. The Kalmanatian version of the sauce is similar to this original herb based variety however it adds salt-cured fish and tisparos (Tisi - tickle, paros- seed) , another Kishite import (there it is called lisiki). This sauce is often used with practically any savory food, poured on meat, fish, vegetables, and bread. Often a house may be judged by the quality of their funemikiwados. Among the Kalmanatians there is two varieties of the sauce, a fresh version (the one described here) and another which is typically made with dried herbs and has additional vinegar added to act as a sort of preservative.

Recipe

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/3 cup red wine vinegar

2 tbsps rilogabo juice (1:1 orange and lemon)

2 anchovies (or other small salt-cured fish)

1/4 cup fresh chopped dill

1/6 cup fresh chopped parsley

1/8 cup fresh chopped thyme

6-10 leaves of fresh chopped rosemary

2-3 leaves fresh basil

2 cloves of garlic

Black pepper to taste

Ground tisparos to taste (Substitue ground sichuan pepper)

Gather the ingredients.

Combine and grind anchovies, garlic, and herbs into a fine paste, using a mortar and pestle or with a food processor.

Combine the herb paste ialong with the rest of the other ingredients and mix until completely incorporated.

Allow to sit at least 30 minutes, allowing for flavors to develop and properly incorporate with each other.

Serve with meat or fish

Wumos aka Wine

Wine in Korithia predates both the Korithians and the Arkodians, and had already been developed by several cultures on the islands including the Awaxi mentioned earlier. Wine is one of the most commonly consumed beverages, only surpassed by water, and slightly more common than psamarla, a Korithian version of unfiltered beer. Wine has many social, religious, and economic uses and is essential in the trade of the plantbrew, making up the base of many kinds of potion. There are many varieties of wine, with some being viewed as better or worse than others. Red wine is typically preferred for later in the day as it is believed that it helps to induce sleep while white wine is preferred for the morning and afternoon. Wine is typically watered down at a ratio of 2 parts water to 1 part wine, this may be either with plain or salted water. Unwatered wine is saved for special occasions and certain religious ceremonies in which intoxication is the goal. Wine may be sweetened with honey, figs, or various fruit juices. Herbs and spices such as black pepper, tisparos, coriander, saffron, thyme, and even cannabis and opium and various magical herbs may be added to change the flavor of the wine and to promote other effects.

Recipe

Pick a wine that you like and put it in a glass or cup. You can water it down if you would like but I didn't because I am not Korithian and this was a special occasion.

I finally got this post done! If you decided to read through this whole thing, thank you! Let me know if you try any of these, most of these amounts are ultimately a matter of taste, you can change things and experiment if you want.

Now we'll see if I get to 300 followers and we'll do this all over again with the food from another part of the Green Sea.

Thank you all again for following me, I've really enjoyed sharing my WIP with y'all!

@patternwelded-quill , @skyderman , @flaneurarbiter , @jclibanwrites , @alnaperera, @rhokisb, @blackblooms , @lord-nichron , @kosmic-kore , @friendlyshaped , @axl-ul , @talesfromtheunknowable , @wylanzahn , @dyrewrites , @foragedbonesblog , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @mk-writes-stuff , @roach-pizza

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

coffee. oh, and you too

synopsis: you were ready for an uneventful day at work. what you weren't prepared for, however, was to have a very... interesting conversation with a stranger.

genre: modern au, fluff, crack (an attempt was made)

characters: neuvillette x gn! reader (can be interpreted platonically)

warnings: barista! reader, i did not think this through, reader is referred to in 2nd person, there is NO mention that it's neuvillette until the end...

a/n: starbucks triple-filtered tap water mmm. also. neuvillette. drinks black coffee. hot. likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2023 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

you heave a sigh as you clock in, mentally preparing yourself for yet another mundane shift of cold brews and oat milk lattes. your coworker acknowledges you with a nod and a head pat as he brushes past to clock out, and you hold in the urge to heave yet another sigh as you realise that you are quite literally the only barista manning the counter for the rest of the evening. again. 

“one blonde roast for takeout.”

“okay, coming right up!” 

as your last customer exits the café, you feel like slumping onto the floor– and never getting back up again. your face is sore from the customer service smile, your mood still sour after a previous customer hurled insults at you for his hot flat white order being too hot. 

you look up at the clock. 10 minutes to closing. surely it wouldn’t hurt to start cleaning up? you muse, hands moving to the back of your waist to untie your apron. 

the chimes on the door rings. you pause in your movements and look up– only to see the best-dressed man you’ve ever set your eyes on in your entire life. you don’t realise you’re staring until he stops in front of the counter and clears his throat. “excuse me, are you still open?” archons, even his voice sounds classy! 

you try your best to recover what is left of your composure. “uh, yeah, would you like to order anything?”

he stalls, looking at the menu on display, confusion reflected in his eyes. “i do apologise, i’m quite unfamiliar with cafés… is there anything you’d recommend?”

“um, considering it’s quite chilly out, maybe a hot drink… like, uh, honey almond milk latte? or you could get a flat white if you want something stronger!” your hands fumble with the towel under the counter. 

the man hums in thought. “alright then, i’ll try that latte.” he looks back at you with a gentle smile that you swear made your knees weak. 

“sure! takeout, or having here?” you smile back as you move to make his drink.

“takeout, please.” he responds, then, almost as an afterthought: “a pity it’s almost closing time, i’d have loved to have it here.”

“oh? you can stay here for a bit, you know?” i have rizz. you mentally pat yourself on the back. “it’s supposed to be closing time, but normally if it’s raining out we’ll stay open for a little longer until the rain gets lighter…” 

“in that case, i hope you don’t mind me imposing for a bit.” he uncaps the cup to take a sip. “interesting…is this what people prefer over plain coffee?” you hear him mutter.

you’ve heard (and seen) many reactions to a new drink, but this is a first. and you’re intrigued. “mind elaborating?”

*bonus: the man, whom you’ve come to call “monsieur neuvillette”, asks you for a cup of plain warm water — and you quickly oblige. he drinks it and makes a face. “if i may, i’d just like to say that this water’s delicate aftertaste is quite refreshing, do you specially process it?” your confusion is written all over your face. “it’s just…tap water???”

taglist: @i23kazu (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

[shoku-and-awe]

Veggie lunch! Featuring @baronmagikcarp's delicious peasant bread (halved), roasted beets with dill sauce, and green beans with almonds. Recipes behind the cut. Yes, emotionally I still feel like some kind of fuzzy mold growing inside a forgotten tupperware but this was very tasty and fun to eat.

The bread looks like it has a very dense crumb (my yeast may be dead or dying; time to check!), but the texture was extremely pleasant and doughy. It was delicious and very crusty! My husband said it was the highlight of the meal, and I ate so much I feel slightly sick, but I still want more.

Beets: Wash, wrap tightly in foil, and roast at 210C until slightly soft. (This took at least an hour? I did it yesterday.) Chill, peel, slice, serve with dill sauce.

Dill sauce: Greek yogurt, fresh dill, green onion (supposed to be chive but they are still in winter hibernation), garlic, lemon, salt, pepper, and a little bit of mayo for fat. Mix it up. Taste continuously.

Green beans: While salted water is boiling, snip off bean ends and snap in half. Boil about 30 seconds, strain, and run under cold water until cold. Toast almonds in a skillet and add to green beans with melted butter, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.

Peasant Bread　 (Thanks again, @baronmagikcarp!) Make: Two 14-ounce loaves

4 cups (512 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons kosher salt 2 teaspoons sugar 2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast 2 cups lukewarm water Softened unsalted butter for greasing

1) In bowl, whisk together dry ingredients 2) Add water, mix with rubber spatula until absorbed and sticky dough ball forms 3) Cover and let rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours 4) Set rack in middle of oven and preheat to 425 F 5) Grease two 1-quart oven safe bowls 6) Using two forks, deflate the dough by releasing it from the sides of the bowl and pulling towards center 7) Separate into two pieces and transfer to bowls to rise for 10 to 20 minutes uncovered 8) Transfer to oven and bake for 15 minutes, reduce heat to 375 F and bake for 17 to 20 minutes more, remove to cooling rack (if pale, cook for 5 minutes more), let cool for 15 minutes.

Note from shoku-and-awe: I had to make the following modifications knowing my oven and because either my yeast is dead or my kitchen is cold/inhospitable even when it feels warm. (I've generally had difficulties baking since we moved here, both with yeast and sourdough alike.)

My dough had barely risen after nearly 90 minutes, so I proofed it at 40C for maybe an hour and it still did not seem to need deflating in Step 6. I did score it, though!

Since my oven is weak, I baked it covered in a pre-heated pot for 15 minutes, then uncovered it and went for another 20.

[pedge-stuff]

Fic request: Pedro or reader has an intense panic attack in a public. Reader has to talk him through it and calm him down enough so they can leave the event. Holding each other in bed.

clean up, aisle 4 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

summary: sometimes, you deal with the downsides.

——————————————————————————

"I feel like we tried this and didn't like it."

Pedro inspects the back label on the box— some kinda chickpea flour protein pasta 'alternative' that came less-than-highly recommended by his personal trainer— before re-shelving it alongside the other sad, fake noodles.

The grocery store has become a little bit of a minefield. Gladiator 2 prep was exciting, until the rigorous hours in the gym started requiring a specialized diet. He can't eat carbs, you don't eat meat, both of you love frozen pizza, and neither of you really want to participate in the whole classic disordered Hollywood eating thing. And yet, here you are.

Home-cooked meals have consisted mostly of roasted vegetables and dry, baked proteins. You're attempting to eat "clean" in solidarity with him, but...

"We don't need pasta," Pedro laments, turning away from the shelving altogether. "What's left?"

You pull the notes-app list back up. "Whatever kind of frozen fruit you want for smoothies, plus pitted dates. I'd love those wasabi almonds from last month, but I dunno if they have them again. We could get Skinny Pop, if you want it?"

A grimace. "That's fine."

"We don't have to get it, Pedge."

"It's fine, really. We need something for the movie tonight, right?"

His shoulders slump as he pushes the cart onwards. The back right wheel is making a little squeaking sound, sharp and grating on your last damn nerve. This grocery store feels more and more like a minefield with every aisle turn. The balance between supporting Pedro in his training, and wanting him to just say fuck it and be happy, feels entirely precarious.

"Almonds," Pedro mutters, veering right, around an obnoxiously large Goldfish display and the toddler sobbing loudly in front of it. An obstacle course of bright lights and loud sounds. "Almonds, almonds—"

"Ohmygod, Pedro Pascal."

Immediately, no. Two college-aged, tri delta-looking, fresh-from-the-salon type girls, grinning like they'd won the damn lottery. Fans— no one he actually knows says "Pay-drow."

The wheel squeaks again as they grind to a forceful halt; the girls are standing directly in the path of the cart.

"Should we ask for a picture?" They speak at full volume, to each other, as if he isn't standing right in front of them.

"We have to, for the gram. Oh my god."

"Maybe Deuxmoi will pick it up."

Pedro grimaces as they start rummaging for their phones. He's always generous with his time— sometimes a little too generous, so concerned with hurting peoples' feelings that he'll take selfies through the drive-thru window, or walking the dogs. Even one memorable time, pumping gas.

Only at night, lights off, tucked away, does he ever confess his frustrations. As though he should not want privacy; as though being grateful was more important than being safe. Guilt eats him in ways that you alone cannot heal. All you can do is hold him a little tighter.

A phone is thrust towards you. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Before either of you can react, one girl has her arm over Pedro's shoulder. The other, on his waist. He's never been one to shy away from affection— had been pushing the cart single-handedly, with the other on the small of your back, since the dairy section— but that intimacy does not extend to strangers.

They are laughing, chattering— something about Game of Thrones. You distinctly make out so sexy and slay.

But you hardly register them, instead frowning at your partner as you snap a couple pics without looking. He is frozen, eyes fixed somewhere past you, though he offers a wan smile for the camera. Answers a question you can't hear with a half-hearted laugh, before gesturing to the next aisle. A polite gesture, too far from the fuck off on the tip of your tongue.

Pedro attempts to move away, but the girl's arm is still snaked around his waist. Trapped. She reaches to wrap the other around, attempting to encircle him in a teddy bear-style hug. This, here, is the limit.

With a rough, jerky motion, he forces her off of him. "Sorry, sorry," he says quickly. "We need to go."

"But—"

If you push the cart, and it happens to roll over a perfectly manicured foot, well...

Pedro is a few paces ahead of you, stalking towards the almonds like they owe him a grave debt. His fists clench and unclench at his side.

Not good.

His tells for a panic attack are well-catalogued in your brain. You push the cart to one side, mouthing an apology to the man you almost plow down, before approaching Pedro with caution. His chest heaves as he frowns at the Blue Diamond display, breaths noticeably shallow.

"Pedro." Fighting muscle memory, you don't touch him. Don't want to startle him, though concern burns a hole in your own diaphragm.

"Mm."

"Baby, look at me."

His eyes squeeze shut, instead. "I'm good. I'm good."

"Why don't you go to the car, I'll finish up quick."

"I'm good," he insists, voice cracking.

"It's OK if you're not good."

A hitch in his breath, and Pedro's face crumbles. "Just startled me, is all," he whispers, brown eyes pooling remorsefully. "So stupid. Can't even make it through the fucking supermarket to get my fucking fruits and veggies."

You reach for his hand, lithe fingers prying his clench fist apart. Soothe the red-crescent divots in his palm with the pad of your thumb. Wait for him to continue, as if you're not both standing in the middle of the nuts-candy-and-coffee section.

"Everything is just a lot right now," Pedro says, dragging in a shaky but deeper inhale. His other hand swipes across his cheek.

Mentally, you catalogue how difficult it would be to return the items in your cart; how fast you could retrace your steps, and rush the man home.

You bring his palm to your lips, instead. "Go take a smoke," you suggest. "And then we can get the fuck outta here."

"Someone's gonna post it online again. Everyone's talking about how I reek of cigarettes."

"You have reeked of cigarettes as long as I've known you. They are late to this." Tugging playfully on the hand you still hold, you wait for him to crack the barest, thinest of smiles.

"You still love me, though."

"Enough to fight off anyone else who tries to dry-hump you in this Whole Foods."

Slowly, you both retreat to the abandoned cart. "Can we—" Pedro stops himself, unsure of how to ask.

"Whatever it is, babe, yes."

He pushes forward. "What if I was asking if we could get naked right now and run through the supermarket parking lot so people would think we were crazy and leave us alone forever?"

"Then I'd start untying my shoes. It'd be hard to pull my jeans over 'em."

The wasabi almonds are, finally, pulled from the shelf. You proceed to the freezers. "That's not what I was gonna ask," he admits, grabbing a bag of chunked mango.

"Bummer."

"Can we just get some normal fucking popcorn? If one night's worth of fake butter is what does me in, someone else can be the Gladiator, I give up."

For him? Anything.

[tinsyfairy]

୨ৎ 09.02 accountability diary ! 🍂

* note this is not intended to encourage anybody or follow my habits i'm just documenting my life and i want to find others who are like me :)

₊⊹ intake limit : 1.4k ♡

₊⊹ water intake : 2.5L

₊⊹ fasting time : 18 hr & 40 min ♡

⌗ breakfast : oat bowl ! 🍂

- brown sugar oats (170)

- 1/2 roasted apple (45)

- 1/2 banana (50)

- extra cinnamonnn

- americano coffee

> total : 265 ♡

⌗ lunch : sweet potato & boiled eggs !

- 1 sweet potato & cinnamon (130)

- 2 boiled egg (144)

- 1/2 unsweetened almond latte (5)

> total : 279 ♡

⌗ dinner : ramen stir-fry ! 🍜

- chicken ramen (390)

- 1 egg & 1 egg white sunny fried (90)

- 1 cup of peppers & 1 green onion (30)

> total : 490 ♡

⌗ other : leftover apple 🍏

- 1/2 of an apple (45)

> total : 45

☆ total : 1,074

☆ burned : 426 / 12.5k steps (i danced a bit too but i didn't track it)

☆ net : 647

– mini log 🍂 :

2nd day! i think it's going pretty well and i'm staying under my budget ♡ i still feel invalid tho.. T_T but wtv i'll rather do high intake it's sm better than b-nging.