#i am fine as long as i can't taste the vegetables but that's why the supertasting thing is tough

[xcziel]

picky eater/supertaster update:

so far the Sneaky Peas system has been a success. best practice is 6-8 frozen peas washed down between every few bites of minute rice with campbell's golden mushroom soup straight out of the can (delicious to me for nostalgia reasons)

now if only i could figure some convenient way of rendering broccoli or like spinach into frozen easy-to-swallow form ...

#those little 60sec microwave cups of minute rice are a game changer for me too #i have eaten more rice and more 'vegetables' in the last couple months than in the last two years in total #and that is not me joking #i am fine as long as i can't taste the vegetables but that's why the supertasting thing is tough #and i'm fine taking supplements but evidently they won't completely substitute for real vegetables #so: frozen so i can't taste them and easily swallowable like a pill #what can i get this way besides peas is the question

[thoughtfulfoxllama]

You wanted me to spill tea, and tea I will spill:

The Word of Wisdom is fundamentally misunderstood by everyone (myself included). Let's look at the Word of Wisdom, shall we?

Let's begin with the Prohibitions, as these are the only things enforced by the Church. They comprise of Alcohol, Tobacco, Illicit Drugs, Coffee, and Tea. From the start, we can't deny Tobacco, Coffee, or Tea. The WoW only said "Hot Drinks," but Hyrum (who was authorized to receive revelation for the Church at the time) said it meant Coffee & Tea.

On the subject of Tea, Herbs of the Field. The Lord has told us to use all the herbs of the field with prudence. This is not me saying to distrust medical professionals, but they can help sometimes. I can't count how many times I've had a horrible stomach ache helped by Peppermint Tea. But it'd be dumb to reject the advancements in medicine we've made in the past 10,000 years. This is also why I support medicinal marijuana (and other things like psychedelic therapy). As long as it is used in wisdom & moderation, it can do good for a number of physical and mental issues (such as my grandmother using it for her seizures, or that veteran who used it for his PTSD)

Finally, Alcohol. The Word of Wisdom only prohibits "strong drinks" (which was defined as distilled alcohol, like Vodka). It encourages Mild Drinks (such as beer), and says we can have wine, if Mormons make it. Joseph drank wine (for pleasure, not just for ritual), Brigham owned a Brewery, and on and on. Obviously, wisdom & prudence. If someone has alcohol issues, they shouldn't drink. This fits into my concept of Zion. Drinking for Pleasure is fine, but Drunkenness is unacceptable. We need to enjoy pleasure without getting consumed by them. But since so few of us can manage that, I see why the Church went the way it did

Next, what have we been encouraged to eat. Grain (which is the Staff of Life), Fruits, and Vegetables. There are people who can't eat them (people with Gluten Intolerances & the like), but I can't argue with this. Fruits and Veggies are good

Although, wisdom is required here too. Not all food is made equal. I'm not going to go completely crazy about GMOs (we've been modifying our food for over 5 millennia), but we need to be more careful about the affects. And the flour we use nowadays is stripped of basically all it's nutritional benefits

Final is the mixed category, namely meats & animal products

The WoW never actually mentions animal products, so this is all me. Animal Products are good, and should be used. Eggs (especially considering the "eat meat sparingly" part) are an amazing source of protein. Milk is good for calcium, if you're not lactose intolerant (like I am). The Lord approves of Honey so much he constantly mentions it in association with the Promised Land(s), and specifically told the Jaredites to take bees with them. But, like all foods we've covered so far, careful. My FiL used to be Egg Intolerant, until he started raising his own Chickens, and he's had no problems with those eggs (and they taste way better, and fill me up way more than Store-Bought ones)

The Lord taught us to "eat meat sparingly," and I've seen a bunch of interpretations, from Vegans to Carnivores. All hold some merits, but no one gets it all right. I don't even think I get this one. Ryan Hinkley (a Blogger & Podcaster) said part of his interpretation is that we should do the least harm. He advocates restricting meat use to meats like Venison and Beef, because they are large enough to feed a lot of people over a long period of time (and have you ever had Venison Tacos. Try it sometime, if you eat meat). It mentions Cold & Famine, and this could be because of the extra protein, which allows you to build mass, to keep warm in winter, and last longer in famine times. In addition, if you work in agriculture (especially in the time of JS), that's the most available food you have in the dead of winter. I want to add to this the prophecy about the Sons of Levi offering a sacrifice. Sacrifice for the remission of sins is done away with, but I believe animal sacrifice will return. In Biblical Animal Sacrifice, the Meat (for the most part) wasn't burned to dust, but roasted and eaten. If I am correct, and it does return, then the reason we are to eat meat sparingly is so that when we do eat it, it's as a celebration of the mercies of God. That's just my crackpot theory though, with ideas I've had floating around for years

(And this is all just a theory. I want to try restricting my meat intake & whatnot, but I don't feel ready for that. And even if the Church said we could drink, I probably wouldn't, because I have a family history of alcohol & drug abuse)

#mormon #lds #tumblrstake #queerstake #lds church #word of wisdom #mormon hot take #you can take my hot cocoa from my cold dead hands #and i can't sleep without vanilla chamomile

[visceravalentines]

Insatiable

Dad's Best Friend!Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

3.8k words

Part 1 Part 2

Smut & fluff, age gap, dad's best friend, fingering, oral, dirty talk & praise, soft orgasm denial, very mild alcohol use by Bo & reader, reader is referred to as darlin', baby girl, pretty, and lady at one point

Alright who wants a weekend sleepover date with Bo Sinclair? Everybody? I thought so. He's gonna take real good care of you, darlin', don't you worry.

I just have to say, I'm thrilled so many people love this AU as much as I do. I did not intend on it becoming an ongoing thing but it's honestly such a pleasant and comforting headspace for me to be in and I'm so happy it seems to be the same for many of you. Also dilf!Bo is the soft dom we all deserve you can't change my mind.

Despite Bo’s instructions, you did pack clothes.  It took no convincing for your parents to wish you well on your weekend trip.  You felt a little guilty for lying to them, but the prospect of them finding out the truth was infinitely worse.

In less than an hour you were in the car on your way to Bo’s place just a few miles away, flush with anticipation.  His house was a cozy, blue-and-white craftsman with a well-kept lawn and thriving flowerbeds.  Per his instructions, you pulled your car around to the four-car garage in the back, typed in the code he had texted you and secreted your car inside.  With your overnight bag on your shoulder, you climbed the front steps and knocked on the door.

“‘S open, darlin’!”

You let yourself in, set your bag down on the couch in the front room and wandered down a short hall to a split kitchen and living room.  Many of the furnishings seemed to be antiques, smooth dark wood and worn leather.  Music played from a speaker on the counter and Bo was busy chopping vegetables. 

“Hey stranger.”  You rounded the kitchen island and kissed him. 

“What took you so damn long?” 

“I was just asking my dad if he needed me to pick anything up from you while I’m here.  I think you borrowed a drill one time?  Just wanted to see if he wanted it back.” 

Bo pointed the knife at you.  “For the record, you ain’t funny, and he borrowed the drill from me.” 

“So now you’re drilling me, is that it?” 

“Alright, maybe you’re a little funny.” 

“Do you need any help?” 

“I need you to sit that fine ass down and let me concentrate.” 

You obliged, perching on one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island, examining the intricacies of his bare arms as he worked.  You felt a little nervous and weren’t sure why.  Perhaps it was the sudden intimacy of seeing him in his own space, of being a guest in his home.  “What’re you making?” 

“Jambalaya, since you seem to like the taste of Louisiana so much.”  He winked at you.  “Now I am no chef, but y’all are incapable of makin’ decent Southern food out here, so I had to teach myself a few things.” 

“It smells delicious.” 

“That’s just onions, peppers, and celery, darlin’, welcome to Southern cuisine.” 

You spun your stool around to examine the living room.  There were a lot of framed sketches on the walls, ranging in dimension from the size of a postcard to almost half your height.  “Do you draw?” 

“Nah, that’s my brother, Vincent.” 

“He did all these?” 

“Mmhm.” 

You hopped down and moved closer to inspect a few of them.  They were simple, almost abstract, with just enough detail to evoke emotion, memory.  “They’re really beautifully done.” 

“He’s an artist.” 

There were dozens of sketches but hardly any photos.  You studied one in particular, featuring a much younger Bo, a shorter man with a broad grin, and a third man with long, dark hair covering half of his face.  The uncovered half was remarkably familiar. 

“Are you a twin?” 

“Yup.  That’s me on the left, Vin on the right, and our kid brother Lester in the middle.” 

“Do they live around here?” 

“No.  We’re all scattered to the wind.”  His tone was flat, not unfriendly, but guarded.  Maybe a little sad.   

Today was not the day to disturb those particular skeletons.  You moved around the room, exploring the bookshelf stuffed with mass market paperback copies of horror thrillers, the shotgun hanging above the fireplace, a beautiful chess set on the coffee table with pieces that looked hand-carved. 

“Did Vincent make this too?” 

“That was Lester.  The pieces are bone.” 

“Really?  That’s so cool.” 

“He’s a crafty one.” 

“I don’t know how to play chess.” 

“That makes two of us, darlin’.  Les may be crafty, but he ain’t always practical.” 

You laughed.  “Maybe we can learn.”  Returning to the kitchen, you put your hands on his waist, pressed yourself against his back.  “You have a very nice home.  Thank you for letting me visit.” 

“Anytime, baby girl, you’re always welcome.” 

“You have a very nice ass too.” 

“‘S all yours, sugar.” 

You tucked your hands into the waistband of his jeans.  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I need you to quit distractin’ me so we can eat today.  Why don’t you open that up?”  He handed you a corkscrew and indicated a bottle of wine on the counter.  You poured a glass for yourself and one for him.  Bo took a sip and shooed you back to your barstool.  “Tell me about school.” 

He listened attentively as you described your degree, your favorite classes, the weird guy who always tied everything into the Divine Comedy no matter what the subject was.  He asked you questions and you taught him some of the finer points of your particular interests.  Before long, the food was ready. 

It was, of course, wonderful, and after dinner you curled up with him on the couch, your legs stretched across his, the summer evening sun bright and golden through the windows.  You looked around at the room and when your gaze wandered back to Bo, you found him staring at you wearing a lopsided smile. 

“I can’t believe you’re here with me, darlin’.”  He squeezed your thigh.  “Musta done somethin’ real good in a past life to deserve a moment like this.” 

You slipped your small hand into his big, rough one, scooted closer so you were practically in his lap.  “Lucky I came home for the summer.” 

“Lucky they kicked me outta the boondocks and I ended up in the suburbs fixin’ your daddy’s truck.” 

You laughed.  “Why did you leave Louisiana?” 

His smile didn’t fade, but it shifted, became wistful.  “Sometimes, you ain’t got no choice but to burn everythin’ down and start over.”  He looked at you knowingly.  “There’s a lotta ghosts in Louisiana, darlin’.  I pray you never meet any of ‘em but me.” 

“What about your brothers, do I ever get to meet them?” 

“Sure, at the weddin’.”  You choked on your wine and Bo laughed.  “I’m just kiddin’.  Not even a sweet thing like you can make an honest man outta me.  Yeah, I s’pose I’d introduce you, if they were ever in town.” 

“Are either of them still in Louisiana?” 

“Nah.  There wasn’t nothin’ left there for any one of us.”  His grip tightened on your hand.  Your eyes settled on the thick band of scar tissue surrounding his wrist, same as the one on his other arm.  You had noticed them before, hadn’t wanted to comment on it.  He rolled a mouthful of wine around his tongue before saying, “Go ahead, darlin’, you can ask.” 

“I don’t need to.”  You shook your head.  “Someone hurt you, I don’t need to know any more.”  He turned his hand palm-up on your lap and you ran your fingers gently over the marks. 

“I used to think that was the way o’ the world,” he said.  “Someone hurts you, you hurt someone else, and on we go, destroyin’ each other.” 

“What do you think now?” 

He looked thoughtful.  “I think life is more about buildin’.  I think the world is a dark and terrible place full o’ dark and terrible people, and if you find somethin’ bright and beautiful, you do everythin’ in your power to keep it safe.” 

You furrowed your brow, regarded him carefully.  “You’ve hurt people.” 

You watched the shadows flicker across his face, the way his eyes hardened.  He smiled coolly at you, flipped his hand back over, rubbed his thumb across your knee.  “I most certainly have, darlin’.  And there’s somethin’ about ghosts, they never stay put where you want ‘em to.”  His smile faded and he looked at you seriously.  “I will never hurt you.  I promise you that.” 

“I’m not scared of you.” 

He bit his tongue behind his lips.  “You should be, darlin’.  You prob’ly should be.” 

You set your wine on the coffee table, took his and placed it there too, adjusted your position and pulled him over so he was lying with his head on your chest.  He leaned into you without resistance.  You wrapped your arms and legs around him, rested your cheek against his brow, said nothing because you weren’t sure there was anything you could say that he would believe.  You hoped it would be enough to hold him against your heart, that maybe he would take the hint. 

Finally you ventured, “You’re bright and beautiful.  To me.” 

Bo looked up at you sideways, his devastating baby blues dancing with amusement and something else you couldn’t quite catch.  “You gonna keep me safe, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“How are you s’posed to do that when you keep leadin’ me into temptation every time I turn around?” 

“That’s the trick,” you said.  “You can’t get into any trouble if I never let you leave the bedroom.” 

Bo chuckled as he sat up and kissed you, pressing his tongue delicately against yours.  “You wanna come see my bedroom?” 

“I would love to.” 

He helped you to your feet, led you down a short hallway and into his room.  The bed was king-sized with a big wooden headboard.  A sizeable dresser stood against one wall, an armchair in the corner.  The focal point of the room was undeniably a large art piece hanging above the dresser, nearly four feet long, an asymmetrical geometric pattern formed by pieces of wood slotted together.  “Did you make this?” 

“That I did.  I like woodworkin’.” 

“It’s amazing, how long did it take?” 

“Oh, five minutes.” 

You elbowed him in the ribs.  On the wall near the armchair hung three more of Vincent’s sketches, all curves and contours, tasteful representations of the female body in compromising positions.  “Bo Sinclair.” 

“Yes dear.” 

“You have porn on your wall.” 

“Take off your clothes and I’ll have porn in that bed too.” 

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face.  “They’re beautiful.” 

“You ain’t listenin’ to me, why you still dressed?” 

You turned around right into his open arms.  “I want you to do it.” 

He huffed.  “I gotta do everythin’ ‘round here.” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.”  You pushed him away lightly. 

Bo sat on the edge of the bed.  “I’m expectin’ a show.” 

“Didn’t you get enough of a show this afternoon?” 

He smirked.  “I never get enough o’ you, baby.” 

Slowly, you undid the buttons on your shirt.  He made an approving noise, leaned back for a better view.  When you shrugged off the shirt and allowed him a full view of the lacey, front-fastening bra you had on underneath, his eyebrows shot up. 

“You wear that for me?” 

“Sure did.” 

He let out a low whistle.  “Do the panties match?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Bo licked his bottom lip.  “Show me.” 

You unbuttoned your shorts, pushed them down your thighs.  The set was a rich teal, stunning against your skin, the fabric translucent.  Bo was reaching for you before your shorts hit the ground. 

“This ain’t allowed.  You keep takin’ my breath away like this and they’re gonna give me an oxygen tank.” 

You straddled his lap, hands on his broad shoulders.  “Has anyone ever made you cum in this bed?” you teased. 

“Just myself thinkin’ about you, angel.” 

Your stomach flipped.  No one had ever said that to you before.  “You don’t bring anyone home?” 

“I live a celibate lifestyle.”  You made a skeptical face at him.  “I don’t like strangers in my house.  If they want a piece o’ this they gotta take it where they can get it.”  He fell back onto the mattress, bringing you with him.  “You can get it anytime, anywhere, baby girl.” 

“I want it here now.” 

“Anythin’ for you.”  He caressed your cheek and you melted on his lips.  His hands were rough on the bare skin of your back and thighs but his touch was gentle and warm.  Your kisses grew fervent; you groped for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him, trailing your lips down his neck and chest. 

“I want you, Bo, I need you.” 

In a flash, he had you on your back, hands pinned above your head.  You gasped, arched your back.  “Want me so bad, huh?” he murmured, pushing your legs apart with his knee.  “Can you do somethin’ for me, baby girl?” 

You nodded quickly.  “Uh-huh.” 

He let go of your wrists and unclasped your bra, opening it up to free your breasts.  He circled his tongue around each nipple in turn, drew it up the center of your chest.  You threw your head back, moaned, squirmed. 

“I need you to tell me if I’m doin’ a good job for you.”  He trailed two fingers down your midline, hooked them in the waistband of your panties, pulled the front down to expose your sex for just a moment before letting it snap back into place.  “Can you do that for me?” 

“Yes,” you gasped.   

Bo stood up, stripped off the rest of his clothes, and settled on his knees between your legs.  “‘S just you and me.  You make all the noise you want, darlin’.”  He pushed your panties aside and slid his middle finger into you, eliciting a long, drawn-out groan.  “So ready for me, such a needy lil thing.”  He stroked the inside of you slowly.  “How’s that feel?” 

“Good….” 

Your focus narrowed to his touch at the exclusion of all else.  “You want more?”  You nodded.  “Use your words, angel.” 

“Yes, please.”  You whined when he added a second calloused finger. 

“I know, darlin’, I know.” 

“Bo….”

“You’re doin’ so well for me, moanin’ so pretty.”  His thumb rubbed over your clit and you cried out, bucked your hips.  “Y’like that?” 

“Y-y…yes.” 

“Tell me how you feel, baby girl.”  He did it again, firmer this time. 

“Oh, Bo….” 

“Use your words.  I know it’s hard.” 

“S-so good.” 

He rewarded you with a steady, circular rhythm, keeping his fingers pumping in and out of you at the same time.  You felt the pressure building deep in your core, canted your hips to push him in deeper. 

“What d’you want?” he said softly. 

“Mm….” 

“You want me to make you cum?”  You nodded frantically.  “I’m all yours, baby girl, but you gotta tell me what you want.” 

“I-I…I wanna cum.” 

“I ain’t stoppin’ you, baby.” 

“I….”  Your thoughts were scrambled, incoherent.  “I…want you….” 

“I want you too.”  A frustrated cry escaped your lips.  You were so close.  He was holding back.  “You’re doin’ so well, darlin’.  What d’you want?” 

You gulped in a deep breath.  “I-I want you…to make me cum.” 

“‘Course, baby.”  He pushed a third finger into you, shifted the angle of his thumb, knocked you over the edge in seconds.  He didn’t even need to ask; you wailed in the pleasure of release at last, felt yourself clenching around his fingers, heard him hmm with satisfaction.  “There’s my girl.” 

You let out a string of tiny sounds as you came back down and he took his fingers back.  He held your gaze as he sucked them clean one at a time.  “You did so good for me.”  He stretched out next to you on his side, tilted your face toward him and gave you a gentle kiss.  “Now…have y’had your fill, or would y’like a little more?” 

“More,” you sighed.

“The lady wants more.”  He kissed the bridge of your nose.  “Happy to oblige, darlin’.”  He slipped off your underwear, tossed it on the floor.  “I got love to make to you.”

You opened your legs for him and he aligned himself with your entrance, already hard, having worked himself up while he worked you over.  Bo thrust into you partway, slowly, grinned at your wanton moan.  “Easy, baby.”  He watched himself slide all the way into you with a lascivious look on his face.  “Look at you takin’ me so well.”

He felt marvelous inside you, filling you up better than his fingers, sending rolling waves of pleasure down your legs and up your body.  You grasped his arms, ran your hands over his shoulders, clasped your fingers behind his neck.  “You feel perfect, Bo.”  He kissed your wrist and lowered his weight on top of you.  You locked your ankles around the small of his back and let him sink deeper into you with a gasp.  “Fuck.” 

With his lips against your ear, he crooned your name over and over.  You clawed at his back, breath catching in your throat, feeling a second, rapid build coalescing around his cock as he moved in and out, steady and slow.  His teeth nipped at your earlobe and he whispered hoarsely, “You’re mine, darlin’, y’hear?  All mine.” 

“Yours,” you panted, taking his face in your hands so you could look him in the eyes as you collapsed around him, “all yours, Bo, I’m yours, Bo – ”

He groaned as he climaxed, gripping the sheets, spilling into you, lips parted, expression angelic. 

You laced kisses across his chest, ran your hands through his hair as he buried his face in your neck.  “You feel good, baby?” 

“You ain’t never leavin’ this bedroom,” he mumbled.  “Your daddy can come after me with a shotgun, ‘s fine.”  You laughed and squeezed him with your legs.  He kissed you sweetly, brushed his thumb over your lips.  “Lemme show you how the shower works.” 

“I think I can figure out a shower.”

“Nah, I gotta show you.” 

You followed him to the adjoining bathroom and stepped into the shower with him.  He held you close in the spray, resting his chin on your head.  The man could not keep his hands off you, insisted on soaping you up, caressing your breasts, your stomach, your hips. 

Before you knew it, he was on his knees in front of you, venerating you with his mouth, had you searching for something to support yourself as your legs threatened to collapse underneath you.  You ended up clasping your fingers behind his head, holding him against you, trying and failing not to buck your hips into his face when he made you cum for the third time. 

“Jesus Christ, Bo,” you said weakly as he stood up, gazing down at you with admiration.  “You’re insatiable.” 

“I like watchin’ your eyes roll back, that’s all.”  He turned off the water and handed you a towel.  “I’ll stop when you stop lookin’ so good.” 

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, toweled off his hair, and kissed your cheek.  “I’ll be on the back porch, darlin’.  Don’t be too long.” 

You retrieved your bag from its place by the front door, put on clean underwear, took the liberty of rifling through his dresser for a shirt.  After pouring yourself another glass of wine, you crept out the back door and found him reclined in a deck chair on the porch, smoking a cigarette and watching the sun set. 

He looked over his shoulder as you approached and the smile he gave you was so handsome, so enamored, it made your heart skip a beat.  “Nice shirt.” 

“I thought so.”  You sank into the chair next to him, took his hand and looked around at the backyard.  Like the front, it was neatly kept, surrounded by a tall privacy fence.  The neighbors would most certainly not see you.  “It’s nice out here.  Peaceful.” 

“I used to, uh…landscape for a livin’.  And do little home repairs, cosmetic stuff, electrical stuff.  Comes in handy.” 

“How are you still single?” 

He laughed out a puff of smoke.  “Could be the emotional baggage.  Might be the sex dungeon.” 

“The what?” 

“You ain’t ready for that yet, darlin’.  Lemme tie you up first, see how that tickles you.” 

“Are you telling me there’s a sex dungeon?  In that cute little house?” 

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“Please?” 

“You gotta earn privileges like that, baby girl.” 

“How do I do that?” 

“Oh, I’ll come up with somethin’.  It’ll be real fun.”  He kissed the back of your hand.  “Y’got any plans for tomorrow?” 

You stretched out your legs.  “I met someone hot, I think I’ll spend the day with him.” 

“Hmm.  Someone from your peer group, I imagine.  Age-appropriate ‘n all that.” 

“Definitely.” 

He clicked his tongue.  “I hate to say it, darlin’, but I’m gonna have to kill him.” 

“Now why would you do that?” 

“I don’t like people touchin’ what’s mine.” 

You laughed, stood up and sidled over to sit in his lap.  He tasted like cigarettes and lust.  You slid your hand down his bare torso, over the softness of his belly, hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweats.  “You don’t have to worry about that.” 

“I know I don’t.”  His arm around your shoulders was warm and solid.  “Y’got any requests for breakfast?”  You shook your head and laid it on his chest.  “Mm.  Well I know what I want.” 

“God, Bo, isn’t your libido supposed to go down as you get older?” 

“What the fuck is that s’posed to mean?”  You giggled.  “Now that’ll earn you a trip to the sex dungeon, y’minx.  You best watch that mouth.” 

“Watch it do what?” 

He huffed, grabbed your jaw, gave you an open-mouthed kiss.  “Ain’t it past your bedtime?” 

“Ain’t it past yours, old man?” 

Bo slapped your exposed ass cheek.  “You’re gonna love the dungeon.  It’s real cozy.” 

“Will you be there?” 

“Oh, you bet I will.”

“Good.” 

He chuckled, hugging you against him, and kissed your temple.  The sun sank out of sight and the cool air grew chilly.  You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“Ready for bed, darlin’?” 

“Yeah.  Someone fucked me a lot today.” 

“Hm.  I bet he’s gonna do it again tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

“You best get some sleep then.” 

Reluctantly you unwound yourself to stand up and stretch.  Bo picked up your wine glass, pinched your ass, led you inside.  You brushed your teeth side-by-side and then slipped between the sheets, cool and clean and smooth.  They shared the same scent as his clothes.  A thrill shot through your chest, cut through the exhaustion.  How could you possibly be this lucky? 

Bo switched off the light and you felt him climb into bed beside you.  He drew you close, so hot beneath the cold blankets.  You nestled into his neck, barely conscious. 

“Goodnight, baby,” you mumbled. 

He strung a crown of kisses across your head.  “Goodnight, darlin’.  See you in the mornin’.” 

Taglist at the bottom bc this is a monster post already: @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon, @cypressnmarigolds, @slasherlouvre . If you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfiction #dilf bo sinclair #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #my writing

[devouringcambridge]

Sunday Roast at The Brook

I'm not an expert, but to me, the concept of a Sunday Roast is as British as afternoon tea or adding 'innit' to the end of all your sentences. There are so many pubs that offer this quintessential British cuisine, but today, I'm reviewing the Sunday Roast offered at The Brook. Located on Mill Road, The Brook is a cozy-sized pub with a warm atmosphere and some delicious ciders available...but how does their Sunday Roast hold up?

British Top Side Roast Beef with Horseradish Sauce (15 pounds)

I had such MIXED FEELINGS about this Sunday Roast. It was a roller coaster of emotions served up with a half-vat of gravy on the side. Some bites had my eyes rolling back in my head with ecstasy. Other bites belonged in the frozen aisle of a discount grocery store. Because of this, I'll rank each item, individually, from worst to best.

6. The Vegetables

I adore roasted veggies. Throw some broccoli, carrots, onions, and cloves of garlic on a roasting pan, drizzle with olive oil, toss some salt and pepper on top, and chuck that baby into the oven and I am more than happy. But these veggies had no tales to tell - they were bland, flavorless, steamed, and unhappy. Just like me after eating the lifeless carrots.

5. Top Side Beef

Seeing as it's called a Sunday ROAST, you'd think the meat would be the star of the show. And while it looks quite nice in the picture, the beef was so dry that I had to resort to dunking it into the gravy in order to make it palatable. It also didn't have much flavor beyond the gravy itself, which leads me to...

4. The Gravy

Solidly fine, and served with a generous portion. However, could do with more of a flavor PUNCH. As it was, I used it mostly as a moist-maker.

3. The Stuffing

And all of a sudden we jump from 'solidly fine' to 'oh my god, I wish I could ask for seconds.' The stuffing is invisible in this picture, and was a surprise to me. In fact, now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if I got a different roast than the one on the menu...perhaps a holiday offering? Because stuffing isn't mentioned in the description, and I'm just realizing that there was no horseradish sauce in sight, either...hmm, well, all's well that ends well, because I'm glad for the swap. This stuffing was moist and packed with flavor - it tasted of salt, herbs, and garlic, and had a dense, crumbly texture. My only complaint was that there was such a small amount - it hid beneath the potatoes, a noble treasure.

2. The Yorkshire Pudding

My first bite of the Sunday Roast was a chunk of the fluffy, soft Yorkshire Pudding - and I can't be certain I didn't moan. It's been six months since the last time I had a Yorkshire Pudding, and I now realize that that is far too long. Honestly, I know a lot of people rag on British food, but the Yorkshire Pudding deserves to be appreciated internationally. I just wish I could describe it better, for those who've never tried one. It's almost like...the love child of a souffle, a pancake, and pita bread...but also different from all of those things. The texture is NEXT LEVEL. So freaking fluffy. And the perfect vessel for soaking up pan sauces and gravy. Ugh, I would have traded the beef for another Yorkshire Pudding with no hesitation. And honestly, the Yorkshire Pudding was probably THE best thing on the plate...but, they're also pretty hard to get wrong. Put a Yorkie P on my plate, and I'll be happy almost always. Although, I won't take away from The Brook here - they do a particularly good one.

The Roast Potatoes

After tasting the sad veg, I feared the potatoes would also be steamed and unseasoned. Instead, The Brook said 'try the best fucking roasted potatoes you've ever had, ye of little fucking faith.'

Crispy on the outside but fluffy on the inside, these taters were perfectly cooked. Flavorful on their own, they verged on orgasmic when slathered in gravy. And I don't even usually LIKE roast potatoes!

So, now, hopefully, you see why this Sunday Roast is hard to rate. How do you compare the worst steamed veggies I've ever had - even the ones in elementary school had salt on them - to the fucking best roast potatoes I've ever had?! It's madness. Madness! While the stuffing and the Yorkshire puddings also pull their own weight, I will say, because the meat is supposed to be the focal point of a Sunday Roast, I'm going to have to give this particular roast at The Brook a...

Rating: 6 out of 10 Gravy Boats

Honestly, if I had just been handed a plate of Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Potatoes, the score would have been much higher...although I'd be eating nothing but carbs. Still. Some things in life are worth every bite, while other things - like the dry beef - are barely worth chewing.

#yorkshire pudding #food review #food blog #british food #sunday roast #pub food #roast potatoes #cambridge #the brook #eating england

[teatimeallovertown]

I am in the middle of writing out a long, angsty fic so I wanted to write something short and fluffy for a break. So please enjoy some Gallavich fluff ft. Ian's tomatoes and Mickey being a clingy, soft husband. Because who doesn't want that?

Mickey's restless.

Which is stupid, because it's a Saturday. Their day off. And Mickey is and has always been fully committed to using every second of their days off for relaxation purposes.

But right now Ian's out in the garden and Mickey's restless.

It's mostly because they didn't fuck this morning, which is really annoying. Mickey had woken up with a raging hard-on, per usual, and rolled over to press it insistently against Ian's thigh, per usual. Normally, morning sex followed. At least once, if not twice. And since it was a Saturday that meant morning sex without the annoying reminder they needed to get up and out the door soon. Mickey's favorite.

(Well, all sex with Ian is Mickey's favorite. But lazy Saturday morning sex is high on the list).

But instead when Mickey'd nudged his wood into Ian, Ian had just chuckled and kissed him, way too quickly, and climbed out of bed despite Mickey's protests.

"It's going to be hot today. I want to get out in the garden while it's still bearable."

So Mickey had been forced to jerk off in the shower and now, hours later, he's just sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Ian's fucking garden.

He loves that thing. Comes inside dirty and beaming (which is kind of hot, honestly) and on good days carrying armfuls of fresh herbs and vegetables.

Mickey can't taste the difference between the ones from Ian's garden and the ones from the store but that's probably because he drowns them in salt regardless. Sue him, not like Terry fed them a balanced diet growing up.

But Ian loves it. Loves washing them carefully once he brings them inside. Loves googling the fanciest recipes he can cook his vegetables into. Which ruins Ian's argument that the garden saves them money on groceries since he ends up buying all these ridiculous ingredients for those dishes. But whatever. They've got decent money now. It makes Ian smile so Mickey doesn't complain.

But Mickey had expected him to be back inside by now. It's almost noon. It's almost noon on a Saturday and Mickey hasn't been plowed within an inch of life which is quite frankly unacceptable.

So that's why he's irritated.

He's also aware of the fact Ian had just put on one layer of sunscreen before he headed out the door and hadn't brought a bottle of water. But only aware. Not concerned. Only thinking about it because the sun's all the way up the sky and there's no shade in the garden. But he's Mickey Milkovich. He doesn't worry about shit like that. Not at all.

He's also maybe a little annoyed because Ian's not here. It's stupid. He's just got Netflix on in the background and TikTok up on his phone. It's no different than what he would be doing if Ian was sitting right next to him or in the kitchen. Maybe he'd have his legs slung over Ian's lap or maybe he'd gravitate, coincidentally of course, to the kitchen counter while Ian cooks.

The thing is, since Mickey'd gotten himself dropped into prison with Ian they haven't really spent any significant time apart. There were those couple weeks when Mickey was still in prison and that was fucking awful but they'd still talked on the phone every day. Then there was the whole Byron fiasco, which neither of them really like to talk about, but even then Ian kept coming by every day.

So yeah, maybe Mickey gets a little restless when Ian's not around. And maybe the fact he's halfway through a Saturday and Ian isn't here isn't sitting right with him.

But whatever, he's not that clingy. Ian will be fine. Mickey will be fine.

Another fifteen minutes pass before he caves.

He grabs a bottle of sunscreen, two water bottles from the fridge and tugs on a pair of shorts before heading down the hallway and out the door.

Fuck, it's hot. Humid too. What's taking Ian so fucking long? He's got to be dehydrated.

Mickey heads over to the community garden and pauses at the gate. Ian's on his hands and knees, always a good view, hunched over one of his plants. Mickey sighs. He can see Ian's neck is red from here.

He pushes the gate open and heads over to Ian who doesn't look up until Mickey's standing directly behind him, blocking the sun.

"Hey," Ian says, looking surprised but pleased to see him. His face has smears of dirt all over it and his shirt is sticking to his body with sweat. Fuck, he looks good. Mickey licks his lip. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on your pale ass," Mickey replies, handing over one of the water bottles. "Thought you'd have been done by now."

Ian's smile widens and his eyes get that twinkle in them he always gets when Mickey does something sweet.

"Worrying about me, huh?"

"Worrying about your dick," Mickey mutters back, neck flushing. He's getting better with the whole openly being a caring husband but it's still hard, sometimes. "Been waiting for you to fuck me all morning."

Ian rolls his eyes but doesn't lose the soft smile.

"Maybe I like making you sit around and think about me."

This time Mickey rolls his eyes. He holds up the sunblock.

"You're gonna be a fucking lobster, man."

"I didn't mean to be out here so long," Ian explains. "But some birds must be eating my tomatoes. Look!"

Mickey glances over and sees Ian's picked a bunch of ripe tomatoes, sitting in a basket, most of them clearly picked at by something.

"Sorry, man," Mickey offers, not really caring all that much. He doesn't personally like tomatoes. "Put some poison on them or something."

"I don't want to kill the birds," Ian says, shooting Mickey an exasperated look. "I just want them to stop eating my tomatoes."

Mickey's not sure what to say to that so he just shrugs.

"Well...you coming back inside soon? Hot as balls out here, man."

Ian smiles.

"Miss me?"

"Fuck you," Mickey says, automatically. They both know he does.

"Yeah, yeah. Me and my dick are coming in. Let me just pick the zucchini. I think they're okay."

Mickey sighs but sits down on the side of the garden, waiting for Ian to finish. He knows Ian's going to make some weird zucchini dish tonight. And Mickey's going to eat it because Ian's going to spend hours carefully preparing it in the kitchen.

The shit he does for his husband.

Mickey gets plowed twice that afternoon, once before bed and they manage three rounds the next morning, one of which includes Ian eating his ass within an inch of his life. Mickey assumes he earned that for eating the disgusting zoodles Ian insisted on making for dinner.

But he did order a pizza afterwards.

On Monday he does the pick-ups alone. It's a slow day, most people do their pick-ups in the second half the week, so Ian can stay home and handle calling the clients to finalize that week's schedule. Mickey doesn't like spending the day without Ian but he also hates calling the customers and if Ian came with him, they'd end up spending their evening making the calls. So whatever, it's just a few hours.

The last pick-up cancels when he's on the way (he drops a few nasty words over the phone when Ian calls him, reminding them both why Ian deals with the clients). He starts to turn the ambulance around to head home, bother Ian a bit until he finishes up with work, but notices a gardening store across the street.

He doesn't really know what he's looking for when he walks in and apparently it's obvious because a worker comes up to him immediately.

"Can I help you with something sir?"

Mickey's instinct is to tell this lady to fuck off. Because she kind of appeared out of nowhere and is a little too close to him, neither of which Mickey handles well. But he takes a deep breath, like Ian taught him to do, and forces the scowl off his face.

"Uh...fucking birds keep eating my husband's tomatoes. Is there some shit I can buy to keep them off?"

The woman looks a little appalled, Mickey lets himself believe it's because of his language and not the fact he referenced his husband, but twitches her mouth back into a smile.

"Sure. Have you tried anything yet?"

"Don't think so," Mickey replies because Ian didn't mention anything.

"Well, it can be a bit of work to put up but netting is the best option."

"Like around the plants?"

"Yes. Keeps the birds from getting through."

"Alright, I'll take it." "Well do you want to see-,"

"Nope."

Ian's not home when Mickey gets there but there's a note on the counter.

Tami and Lip have the flu. Went for some emergency babysitting. Be back soon. Dinner in the fridge - xo Ian

Mickey frowns at the note and briefly considers driving over to Lip and Tami's new place. Ian probably doesn't need help, he's really good with Freddie, but Mickey's not sure how long he's going to be there and he's already spent the day without Ian.

He shakes his head. He might as well use the time alone to be productive.

The lady at the store wasn't kidding, the netting is a pain in the ass. Fortunately it's late in the day and the sun is going down so it isn't too hot and there's no one else in the garden to listen to Mickey drop some nasty insults to the netting in question.

It gets tangled up a couple times and he can't get one side of it to stay up correctly for a while but finally, after nearly two hours, he wipes his dirty hands on his pants and admires his handiwork.

It's ugly as fuck, no doubt about it, but no way a fucking bird is getting in there now.

The gardens are behind the complex and the opposite direction of where they park so they only walk past it if they're intending to. The rest of the week is slammed, apparently one of their newer clients referred them to a few people so they have to add three meetings this week with potential clients, so Mickey forgets about the netting completely until Saturday.

This time, Ian wakes him up with a blowjob. Mickey knows it's to try and speed things up since he wants to get to the garden. But it still beats last weekend's blue balls.

It's another hot day so before Ian can head out the door Mickey forces himself out of bed, chucking a water bottle and sunscreen at him.

"I don't want you bitching about getting fried again," he says defensively when Ian throws him that mushy, enamored look but happily takes the kiss Ian gives him before he leaves.

He's just settled on the couch, mug of coffee in hand, when the door flies open again. Ian's standing there, eyes wide and an enormous grin on his face.

"You forget something?" Mickey asks, frowning. Ian just steps inside and closes the door behind him.

"Did you put netting up around my garden?" Ian asks, voice brimming with a mix of shock and giddiness. Mickey flushes a bit but shrugs.

"Yeah, you were bitching about the birds and there was a gardening store nearby that canceled drop-off this week. No big deal."

"Mickey," Ian says and his voice is dripping in affection. It makes Mickey's insides go all warm and soft but forces the embarrassed flush higher on his cheeks. "Mickey, that is so sweet."

"Fuck off," Mickey mutters, flipping Ian off as he marches towards the couch, sitting on the coffee table across from Mickey. "It's just some fucking netting."

"My tomatoes look great," Ian says, reaching a hand forward and stroking his knuckles across Mickey's cheekbone. Mickey instinctually leans into it.

"Good. Fuck birds," Mickey says, shifting a little under Ian's adoring gaze. "Seriously, Red, I didn't fucking cure cancer."

Ian just smiles wider and leans forward, grabbing at Mickey's waist to tug him into standing and pulling him between Ian's parted legs. He wraps his arms fully around Mickey's middle, pressing his face into Mickey's stomach.

"Fucking love you, Mick."

Mickey can't help but grin, dragging a hand through Ian's hair.

"Love you too, Gallagher. Now go pick some fucking tomatoes. Didn't spend hours putting up the fucking netting for nothing."

Ian pulls his head back, a devilish look on his face, and curls his fingers into the waistband of Mickey's boxers.

"I will. Got something more important to take care of first."

And so maybe, being a sweet, doting husband isn't so bad.

#my writing #idk what this is #but i felt like it #gallavich fic #gallavich #drabble #fluffy fluffy fluff #ian's tomatoes

[heyboke]

SWIPED RIGHT! | Kageyama Tobio x Reader SMAU

0:10 — Pinky Promise and...

NOTE: I understand if some of my readers only prefer the SMAU part, so I made this update flexible so you can still get what’s happening without reading the writing part! Keep in mind that you still have to click on ‘Keep Reading’ to access the following photos!

But, some of the parts can’t be translated through social media screenshots so reading the writing part will really help you understand the characters and what’s happening to the story on a deeper level! ☻

Word Count: 3344 words

YOUR POV

After concluding Bokuto-senpai's non-stop blabbering about the movie he watched last night to procrastinate from studying, the boys were finally able to go to their locker room to freshen up for their long-awaited BBQ Friday.

I decided to wait for them on the bench just outside the gym. Their four hour training went by so fast that when I looked up at the sky, the stars were already twinkling. The cool breeze I only get to enjoy at night hugged my skin as the winds started to lightly gust against my bare sleeves. Ugh, I forgot to bring a hoodie with me tonight.

My thoughts were interrupted as I received Tobio-kun's very random text. It was a very pleasant surprise that unconsciously plastered a huge smile on my face. I was too busy texting him that I didn't even notice the whole team standing in front of me, all ready to go.

"What's that on your phone that's making you grin like the Grinch?" Akaashi asked, trying to subtly take a peek on my phone screen. I immediately locked the device and put it inside the pocket of my sweatpants.

"No need to peek, Akaashi! Let's not waste anymore time... let's go!" I said, jumping out of the bench as the whole team started to walk, carrying on with their small talks.

The gray haired captain stood out since he was ahead of everyone, hopping like a kangaroo while shrieking about how he's been craving for Barbecue for so long now and that he can't believe he finally got the blue check on Twitter.

I was walking alongside Akaashi at the far end side of the group, watching everyone ahead of us with a comfortable silence lingering between us.

"Do you need help with your bag? I can carry it for you." He asked, breaking the silence.

"It's fine, it's fine! I can carry it on my own. Besides, you've already had such a long training. I don't want to burden you with such a small thing." I said, smiling at him to assure him that it's fine.

"Oh, speaking of my bag... hold up," I muttered, stopping on my tracks as I opened my bag to get something.

"What's up?" Akaashi uttered his third question since I saw him outside of the gym. I shuffled through my things until I finally found what I was looking for.

"Aha! Here. I got it while y’all were doing your spiking drills." I said, handing him a slightly chilled bottle of Vanilla protein shake.

"Oh. Thanks, Y/N. It's been a while since you gave me something as boujee as a protein shake. Hmm, someone's loaded today." Akaashi teased, a small smile smothering his gorgeous face. It is an unsaid arrangement between the both of us that I can only give something a little fancy to him, or to anyone, when I have extra savings with me.

"Shut up! I've been saving up for tomorrow for quite some time now. Just... shut up and be grateful for that, Keiji." I said, chuckling as I playfully hit his arm.

"Why? What's so special about tomorrow?" he asked, eyebrows scrunching up together in curiosity.

"Didn't I tell you? To—"

"WE'RE FINALLY HERE!! YAAAY!!!" Bokuto hollered, cutting me off from telling Akaashi about my plans with Tobio-kun, Hinata-kun and my bestfriends for tomorrow. The familiar aroma of savory and mouthwatering meat being grilled, instantly filled my nostrils. I just realized that I've been distracting myself from how hungry I actually am all this time.

"God, I'm so hungry. Y'all were taking so long. If I wasn't on such a good mood, I would've been so hangry by now!" I said, eyes locked on the grilling area on the side of the restaurant where the Barbecue we've been dying to eat is being prepped.

Good thing, Bokuto-senpai already reserved a table for us ahead of time. The short list of things that the simple-minded captain would not procrastinate on would certainly include Volleyball and his favorite food, Barbecue.

Everyone decided to sit down on their desired seat. I felt comfortable sitting at the very far end of the booth’s couch. Since Akaashi and I were already walking side by side, it made sense that he just sat beside me on the couch too.

The rest of the team, and most likely even me, were practically drooling at the sight of barbecue being served to the tables around us. Yukie-san, one of the current managers of the team, is known for her great love for food. She decided to take matters in to her own hands and stood up for everyone. She simply asked one of the servers to follow up our orders.

Some of the third years, Konoha-san, Komi-san and Sarukui-san, were struggling to deal with an impatient Bokuto that was on the verge of going on emo mode.

“Where’s Akaashi? Didn’t he...“ the captain mumbled, pouting as he searched for the setter that was seated beside me.

“Oh, no. Bokuto-san’s Weakness #42. He becomes impractically impatient when people make him wait for his food, most especially when he’s hungry after training.” I hear Akaashi mutter beside me. I looked at him and he seems like Doctor Strange, looking at and calculating the different possibilities of what can happen if the captain won’t be able to get his food anytime soon.

Thankfully, Yukie-san came back to our table with at least two servers holding stacks of Barbecue on their trays, gently placing them on the table in front of all of us. Bokuto-senpai’s eyes lit up, even his hair seemed to perk up in excitement as he saw the Barbecue he’s been dying to eat being served in front of him.

“ALRIGHT, Let’s dig in!! This is in honor of me getting the blue check and a reward for all of us after such a hard training!! WOOHOOO!! Enjoy, everyone!!” the captain cheered, taking at least five chunks of meat in his chopsticks and munching the all down in one go.

No matter how hungry I am, I took the time to look at the team in front of me. The mere sight of them enjoying their food is endearing me. Am I really going to be a part of this wonderful team by next week? Do I really belong here?

I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw green vegetables being plopped down on my plate. I looked up and saw Akaashi putting one last piece of greens on my plate.

“Hey, why are you putting all that? I came here for Barbecue and not vegetables, Keiji.” I mocked him, poking the vegetables he just placed on my plate with my own chopsticks.

“Shush, you have to eat those. Even just a couple. They make you healthier. Plus, if you’re going to be our manager, you can’t be getting sick and frail.” he said, not even sparing a glance at me as he started to eat his own food.

Now this... this is one of his gestures that made me grow really fond of him. Some people might think otherwise but for me, Akaashi is not shy at all. Others often mistake his silence as shyness. When in reality, he only speaks up when he thinks it’s necessary — when he thinks it’s worth it. In fact, he is very frank with his words. He’s the type of person that would call you out when you’re doing something wrong, but he’d also compliment you when you’re doing something right. If one tends to focus more on his expressions, they can be convinced that he’s bland because his face really is usually blank. He only ever shows what he feels through his expressions at very rare occasions. Thus, he shows his feelings most of the time through his gestures; be it a small one or a big one.

“Hmph, fine. I’ll just eat more barbecue with it, so I don’t taste it that much.” I said, wrapping the greens with a chunk of meat. Bokuto-senpai, who’s instantly uplifted by now, overheard what I said.

“That’s what I do too when I need to eat vegetables!!! You’re doing the right thing, Y/N!!” he laughed, as he stuffed more barbecue inside of his mouth. The other third years that were worked up on not letting him slip in to his emo mode earlier, were now having the time of their life beside Bokuto-senpai, laughing at each other as they throw jokes at one another from time to time.

“Y/N?” said someone from in front of me. I looked up and saw that the voice belongs to none other than, Kaori-san, the other current manager of the team. She’s so pretty, oh my gosh.

“H-Hello, Kaori-san. Is there anything I could help you with?” I asked, getting a little conscious about the fact that I’m basically eating like a pig in front of someone so gorgeous.

“Oh, nothing! I just wanted to talk to you, even just for a little bit.” She smiled, eating gracefully like a princess. I could never, lol.

“I’m always down for a talk with you, Kaori-san!!” I gushed. Oh my god, do I sound a little too excited? What if she thinks I’m a crazy fangirl? Oh no.

“You’re so cute! Hahaha, anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts right now about the team manager position because I’d be really be at ease knowing that the team is in good hands after Yukie-san and I graduate.” She said, a hint of sadness was evident after she mentioned the fact that they’re graduating this year.

“Oh, of course... Hm, before I even officially become the manager of this team, I can say that I already have a pretty good bond with them... thanks to this one person,” I nudged Akaashi who was peacefully eating beside me and secretly listening to Kaori-san and I’s conversation. Akaashi-kun, you’re not so slick. I might’ve only known you for a little over three months now, but I can feel it when your ears are trying to listen, despite having your eyes focused on something else.

I continued, “I just know that they have something really special about them. At times, I even get intimidated by their bond because not all teams can easily earn it. It takes a lot of time and everyone’s cooperation as well. With that being said, I just want to make sure that I won’t get in their way or anything. I really am taking things seriously and I’ve also been thinking about it a lot lately. I don’t want to make a hasty decision just because I got blinded with such a big opportunity. It’s a commitment that we’re talking about, not just to myself, but to the rest of the team as well.”

I didn’t even realize that I’ve been blabbering like a little kid in front of Kaori-san.

“The fact that you’re thinking about it this much already says a lot, Y/N. Hell, I didn’t even know it’s possible for me to want you to take this position even more!” she chuckled.

“Your words mean a lot to me, Kaori-san! I’ll make sure to keep it in mind once I make my final decision.” I smiled, stuffing my mouth with one of the green vegetables on my plate and Barbecue.

The warmth and liveliness around the table never died down all through out the meal. We even found the gray-haired captain standing up and doing an imitation of this one funny video he watched as a kid. The trays and plates on the table were now empty, while our stomachs were full and satisfied.

“HEY, HEY, HEY!!! Let’s go to arcade now!! Yoohoo!!” Bokuto-senpai started to hop around while flailing his arms in the air, ready to go to this arcade nearby this restaurant. He was so close to leaving the doorway when one of the servers came up to our table.

“Uhm, ma’am and sir, I double checked it on the system but... you haven’t paid for your meals yet,” the server was sheepish on approaching us. She was having a hard time looking at us in the eyes. She’s probably new here.

Everyone stood there in shock and embarrassment, except for Konoha-san and Komi-san who dragged Bokuto-san back inside to pay for our meals.

“OH... I’m so sorry!! I forgot, I didn’t mean to not pay!!” the captain sincerely apologized, quickly paying for everything we ate.

Upon entering the arcade, I couldn’t help but feel giddy and excited. The air inside the arcade just makes me feel alive and want to play games there all day. People around our age and some kids filled the place. Some of them are on dates, while most of them were just hanging out with each other.

The team scattered into groups as they went to the games that best fit their liking. The captain can be seen inside a Zombie-killing booth. His hands are already holding the fake gun inside, ready to unleash his inner warrior because according to him, he always trained himself for an apocalypse that can happen in the future. Some of the third years, like Yukie-san and Kaori-san along with some of the spikers, can be seen on the bowling area.

I rushed to the counter in the middle to get myself tokens and cards to play the games. The air hockey table caught my attention the moment we stepped in the arcade. I was about to swipe my card to play, when I realized I didn’t have anyone to play it with. How much dumber can I get? I obviously can’t play this by myself.

“Go for it. I’ll play with you,” a voice I know too well spoke behind me. I didn’t realize that I kind of ditched him as soon as I got too caught up in excitement with the arcade.

“Okay. Bring it on, Keiji! Don’t you dare go easy on me!” I exclaimed, swiping the card and grabbing the air hockey paddle on the table. My competitive side was showing as I poured my energy in each stride at the puck and attempts to block it from shooting inside my side of the goal.

After a few rounds of air hockey and a little bit of Basketball, where I took a hard L because I was against a well-trained and balanced athlete that shot the ball like it was nothing, I decided to go for a game where I thought I had a bigger shot at winning. I scanned through the games again and my eyes landed on this one game that I knew I’d win against someone like Akaashi.

“Dance Dance Revolution? I never played this game all my life and now you’re asking me to play it with you right now?” he whined, uneasiness showing as he spoke. I felt a little sad, but I didn’t want him to force him on doing something he doesn’t want to do.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to do it. I just really thought it’d be nice to play this with somebody.” I looked down, speaking softly. I hear him take a deep breathe.

“Fine... just one round.” he said. I was so thrilled. I bounced around and swiped my card on the machine. We stepped on the dancing area with the arrows under our feet and got ready to play the game. I chose a dance that was moderately difficult, keeping in mind that by doing so, I’ll increase my chances of winning. It was going really well at first. By looking at Keiji on my peripheral vision, he wasn’t even that bad. I guess the footwork training they do on Volleyball also helps him. Ugh, is there something he can actually suck at?

The most complex part of the dance started and I was slowly panicking. My score was higher, but only by a little. I was getting lost in the game that I didn’t even notice that I stepped at a faulty angle and twisted my ankle.

I winced in pain as I lost my balance and held on the metal bar behind me for support. Akaashi was alarmed as soon as he saw my current state.

“Hey, I’m fine, really. What’s that look on your face, Akaashi?” My poor attempt to chuckle was horrible. I tried to stand up, but the pain I felt on my ankles were stronger than my will to prove Akaashi that I was fine. He rapidly moved away from the game and found himself beside me, checking my, most likely, sprained ankle.

“Okay, it doesn’t look that bad but you can’t work yourself up for a while. I’ll take you home. No more ifs and buts. I’ll just text Bokuto-san and the rest of the team about what happened and that we had to leave sooner than expected.” he sternly said.

The next thing I knew, he was walking me to my house. I found myself on his back, arms wrapped around his chest and legs clung on his waist as he held the side of my thighs for extra support.

The same stars that greeted me while I was waiting for them outside the gym earlier were present as I looked up again at the sky. With that, the same cold breeze of the night blew against my skin. I tried not to shiver, but it was useless since Akaashi felt that I was getting chilly because I was shaking a little.

He stopped on his tracks as he gently put me down on the sidewalk. I was feeling confused until I saw him taking his jacket off and offered me to take it.

“I noticed you were starting to get a little chilly, so here. Take it.” he said. I didn’t even hesitate anymore as I wore his jacket. I felt so much better and we started walking again while he gave me a piggyback ride.

I let out a yawn as I started to feel my eyelids getting heavier and my breathing going slower. I didn’t even know when it happened, but I just know that along the way, I fell asleep on his shoulders.

AKAASHI’S POV

I found myself in front of your house and I knocked on the door. It wasn’t the first time I’ve been here, so your mom let me in as soon as she saw me. I told her about what happened and gave her some tips that will help you recover faster. Given that I was not new to these injuries, I knew exactly what to do.

I opened the door to your room and I softly put you down on your bed. I got some pillows that will help on elevating your sprained ankle and tucked you to bed.

You looked so peaceful. You looked so beautiful.

I’ve always been blunt about what I see and feel about everything. So, why is it that I can’t tell you about these feelings that I feel solely for you?

I wish I can tell you that all your little gifts and efforts for me never go unappreciated.

I know that you’ve recently been growing closer to somebody else. I’m not oblivious about it. I know you, Y/N.

I just hope that it’s not too late by the time I finally build up the courage to tell you about these feelings.

I gave your forehead a soft kiss, before I finally got up and left your room.

YOUR POV

I woke up in the middle of the night and realized that I was already in the comfort of my own room. I checked my phone and saw that it was 2AM. I looked down on my feet and saw that my ankle was really sprained and that I wasn’t just dreaming about it.

I let out a sigh as I remember that Tobio-kun, Hinata-kun, Best Boy Yams and Saltyshima were coming over here later.

Why the fuck did I have to sprain my ankles on the worst day possible?

☆ PARTS ☆

A/N: Here goes my first actual write up in this blog! I would really love to hear your thoughts about it! Stay safe and healthy, lovelies! ♡

taglist: @sugacoatt @kokogxddess @angelynmay @kasandrafaye @exovity @notamazinglizzy @haikyuuopalite @faiima @pyblos @volleybloop @mahalau @applepiekyuu @nvthvlyy @azgucci @tchalameme @mlkytobio @bakibakini @xyelikestobio @beastboypng @nerumiz @unlikelytigerqueen @your-local-lesbo @tycrackculture @almostcrystalized101 @alienvarmint @agneyestra @kthhyj @hakueishirei @sugawsites @wiseeggspickleslime @8zmingi @idiot-juice-enthusiast @lunarknox @wemissyou3000 @90s-belladonna @yeehawnana @mysticlarizza @hyperfixation1 @literaltrash666 @animeboyscangetit @luvelyjjk @cuddlesslut @deathcab4daddy @bloomingforbts @ashleefo @mikantsumiikii @yeehawslap @michelepiekenma @kpopstanh

#kageyama tobio x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu au #haikyuu x reader #kageyama smau #kageyama x reader smau #kageyama x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader smau #kageyama tobio #akaashi x reader #akaashi x reader smau #haikyuu akaashi keiji #akaashi smau #akaashi keiji x reader smau #akaashi keiji

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

13. Chapter Nine: Mega big brain boy ✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

🌸

Yesterday was wild. It was truly wild personified. Your friends and Seonghwa's friends mingled together to create, as Yeosang kept mentioning, chaos multiplied. 

Despite the loud talking, heavy eating, after-dinner meeting and dramatic goodbyes under the influence of alcohol, (No one has yet confessed who switched Cola with Alcohol. Hence, the appearance of bold Jongho) the time spent was the most fun you've had since college life began. 

It was fun but it was tiring staying up late.

The only thing that occupied your mind today was the thought of comfortable sheets putting you to sleep in your bed.

Currently, you're thinking about the same but with different emotions, specifically regret. 

"Why are you making a face like that? This is the fourth time you've zoned out today." Seonghwa's question pulls you out of your trance. 

You two wrapped the daily studio teaching a few minutes ago and the next occupants of the recording studio showed up when you were leaving. As Seonghwa conversed with them, you decided to text Yeri, who delivered you the news, shattering your napping plans. 

Why today, of all days, today I forgot my key? 

You rub your eyes and place the phone in your pocket. "You've been counting?" 

"Well, you're the only person here I am supposed to pay attention to. So yes, I've been counting. What's up?" He asks as you two begin walking down the stairs. 

Groaning, you push your hair back into an aggressively tight ponytail. "I forgot my dorm keys, I wanted to nap but now I need to pretend to study in the library while I complain loudly in my mind." 

He raises a brow, hands fishing out car keys from his pocket. "Why don't you just drink your deathly beverage? Doesn't it keep you all buzzed and active?" 

You stop in front of the building entrance with a smug expression. "Oh, my deathly beverage for which I attended the beverage addiction convention?" 

Looking down, he shakes his head. "Do you want to grab something to eat?" You expected a snarky or teasing remark but what is delivered surprises you for a moment. 

"Together?" The thought of just the two of you sharing a meal is enough for your heart to beat a little faster than usual.  

The time spent in the studio mostly consists of him correcting mistakes and answering your confused questions.

The initial embarassment is only subtly present. His playful comment are mostly absent when he's explaining what Hongjoong has already well explained to you. His presence is comfortable.

When among your friends there's always someone (mostly Mingi) chiming in now and then but this is the first time since you've met that you'll be spending time with each other. 

Frankly, you also don't know how to act around everyone with him when even sneezing is considered giggling. You two haven't exactly acknowledged openly about your high school crush on him other than easy, playful conversation you two engage in quite a lot, whether texting or talking. 

"No, we'll be sitting on seperate tables." He begins walking towards his car. You had half-expected an answer like that. 

"Really? That sounds great, at least I don't have to put up with your nagging." Arriving by his side, you comment with a side eye. 

He offers you a deadpan expression. "Didn't you listen to what Yeosang said? I'm actually that clueless. That open discussion about me, remember." 

"Are you really? I have receipts of your messages admitting how you find my reactions 'cute'." You tap your pocket, contaning the source of evidence, your phone. 

The confidence comes when with him without you having to muster up any.

Seonghwa unlocks his car, a small hint of smile on his lips. "Okay, let's continue this conversation while eating." 

This boy. 

"Are you really that unphased? Are you really that clueless? Teach me your ways." 

He opens the door to the passenger's seat. "I'll feed you instead." 

You place your hands on your chest, followed by a dramatic expression. "Wow, you're amazing at deflecting." 

Seonghwa places a hand on his hip and that's your cue to get inside before losing your free meal ticket. 

You'd rather eat with Seonghwa any day instead of pretending to study at the library with droopy eyes.

🌸

After a ten minutes ride to a small and cozy restaurant, you two are seated in the chatter filled environment with two servings of soup in front of you loaded with vegetables, meat and noodles.  

He arranges the spoons for both of you.

"Better than greasy food that will make you more sleepy." He sips a spoonful and an instant satisfaction takes over his features.

You chuckle. "Oh my god, you're really a mom material---" The comment is instantly regretted as you taste the refreshing soup, enough to widen your eyes. 

He slurps the noodles and then turns to you with a victorious smile. "You develop motherly instincts when you hang out with children." 

"Children?" You're listening to him but the soup definitely has a majority of your attention. "Oh, you mean the guys?"

"All the seven of us are uniquely handful," The smile is still ever present on his lips. 

Even though you haven't spent much alone time with him, you can still detect the warmth filled, selfless nature he had back then and still has it within him now.

That was one of the main reasons you were attracted to him. 

Okay, not now (Y/N), let's not make it awkward. 

You take a big bite of the juicy, broth soaked meat. "You're still as initiative and kind as I remember." Speaking with much difficulty, you hold up your hand in front of your lips, "But I think something went wrong somewhere and you developed the quality of enjoying making fun of innocent girls like me." 

He offers you a tissue with his trademark, unphased expression. "I am actually that clueless." He shrugs. 

You snatch the tissue and wipe the corner of your lips. "Yeah, sure." 

He laughs at the look on your face. "What? You can't take a little teasing from your senior?" 

You throw up your hands in false frustration. "Oh my god, stop asserting your age kink!" 

"It's not a kink!" He says defensively. 

"Yes, sure. Mingi is Mingi but you, you are something else!" You say the statement, knowing that he understands the meaning behind it and begin sipping the remaining broth.

He too, downs the broth in one shot. "What am I?"

There it is, that amused and knowing glint in his eyes and the smirk he's attempting to hide. 

"You're..I don't know, whatever. Seventeen year old Seonghwa would never do this to me" You bite your tongue after delivering the statement.

He crosses his arms below his chest. "Seventeen year old Seonghwa was actually clueless." 

You point a finger at him with an exaggerated smirk. "Ha! You are basically saying that twenty-one year old Seonghwa isn't!" 

He places his head on his hands, shoulders shaking with gentle laughter. "(Y/N) if you keep reacting like that, do you really think I can stop?" 

Your expressive gesture shrinks. "You know what, I understand now." You hold up your hands in defeat. 

"No, don't stop now. We are finally opening up and talking." He gives you an encouraging nod. 

"Oh, don't trick me now. My eyes are about to roll back into my head." Your fingers undo the ponytail to let your hair breath. 

Sleep has abandoned your senses long ago but only now you realise how energized you're feeling.

"Fifteen year old (Y/N) would never." The innocent face of his doesn't do justice to the way he is speaking. 

"Hey!" You protest.

Wow, I sure react to everything he says. 

"Fine, fine. I'll stop now but If it ever gets beyond the limit, tell me." He assures with an honest expression. 

God, you cannot be teasing one minute and be kind the other, no, don't do this Park Seonghwa. 

You huff out a sigh and lean into your palms. "It is harmless anyway but you're too good at it and sometimes you are something else."

He mirrors your posture. "Yes, (Y/N), so tell, What am I? What is something else?" 

Your face falls into your palm and you hear his soft chuckles. 

Not again, Park Seonghwa, not again. 

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: He make fun of you, he tease you but mostly importantly, he feed you 🙏🏻

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💫

🌸Tags:

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🌸

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[daybreak-delusion]

Chapter 8

Introduction: Whitney Goodwinson was planning on inheriting one of her deceased grandmother's properties, but not a little house off the coast of North Carolina.  As she struggles to meet new people, fix up her new property, deal with troublemaker JJ Maybank, and perfect her grandmother's infamous lemonade, she might just find that the Outer Banks has more to offer than it seems. 

Series Masterlist 

Previous Chapter

The drive back from The Wreck was as smooth as a ride in an old Volkswagen could be. It wasn’t that bad of a sight either. Through the trees, I could catch glimpses of the beach and water. I could make out little surfers trying to catch waves, fishermen trying to haul in their catches, and tourists getting sunburnt on their towels. I decided to stop at the park I saw on my way to The Wreck and eat my lunch. There were large tall trees good for climbing surrounding a playset with a couple of benches and picnic tables. I sat on a bench closer to the playset and dug in. JJ wasn’t kidding this sandwich was exactly what I needed to get over my hunger and my fires? Oh my god, I could kill for another batch. There were a couple of kids playing on the playset that looked like a lawsuit waiting to happen. They were oblivious to their danger however as they played tag around the swing set. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had as much fun as those kids were and wondered if I’d ever be that happy again. On that depressing note, I decided to leave so their mothers wouldn’t peg me as a pedophile. 

Before heading back to the Lemon House I looked up a market to get some groceries. The store didn’t have the biggest variety, but I got what I needed: pasta, fruits, vegetables, beans, almonds, rice, Skinny Pop, and other kinds of snacks. If I planned my meals correctly I should have enough for the rest of the month. I also took note of the hardware store that was next to it and decided I would come back tomorrow for paint and other supplies for touching up the house. When I got back it took a couple of trips, but I finally got all the groceries inside. I walked outside with JJ’s burger to see the golden boy throwing away a bag of weeds. 

“Hey, Golden Boy!” I yelled walking over to him. 

“Ah miss Sunshine how was The Wreck,” he replied, wiping off some sweat on his face with the bottom of his shirt giving me a view of his incredibly toned abs. I assumed he had a good body based on the look of his arms, but hot damn this boy could be a Greek god. What I would do to get his boy to let me put- 

“Hello,” JJ yelled, snapping his fingers at me, “how was The Wreck?” 

“Hm oh yeah, it was fine,” I stupidly replied, praying that he didn’t notice my ogling, “Um I got you a burger, Kie said it was your favorite.” 

“Aww Sunshine you didn’t have to do that,” he said grabbing the bag and scarfing down the burger. 

“No problem, so you get everything done?” I asked him, taking his trash. I ignored the voice in the back of my head praying that he still had more stuff to do. 

“Yeah I just finished up for the day, unless you have any other pressing matters you need me to satisfy,” he teased, giving me his heart-melting smirk. I would have been more smitten if he didn’t have a piece of lettuce in his teeth. 

“In your dreams Golden Boy,” I tried to say confidently, but it came out more like a stutter. 

“Every night Sunshine.” 

“We met yesterday dummy, remember that you still work for me so keep your dreams at bay.” 

“Whatever you say, boss lady, don’t miss me too much tomorrow,” he said as we walked over to the front of the house. 

“Trust me I’ll be able to manage,” I said as we approached a rusty, red dirt bike, “I’ll have your new schedule by Monday, you still good with helping me fix up a couple of things around the house right?” 

“Yeah, yeah sure thing, but you’ll pay me extra right?” he clarified, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yes JJ I’m true to my word, but it probably won't be as much as my Grandmother paid you. Is $15 an hour okay?” 

“Eh, I don’t know about that Sunshine. My price per hour is a little bit higher than that.” 

“Don’t play me JJ minimum wage here is like $7 be lucky I’m not giving you $10.” 

“Fine, fine can't blame me for trying,” he said climbing on to the bike, “see ya later Sunshine!” 

And just like that, he was off down the road with a cloud of dust behind him. I couldn't help but notice the sad feeling in my chest as I watched this boy drive away. God, what was wrong with me, I had met him what? Yesterday? This was ridiculous. But it wasn’t until JJ was gone when I realized how lonely I actually was. I’ve had my share of loneliness of course, but I always had someone to be there for me whether it was a teacher or the librarian or even Grandmother sometimes. But now she was gone and here I was longing for the company of a boy that almost went to juvie. Great. 

Pushing my feelings down I turned back to the house and went inside. In the kitchen, the lemons had been placed in a white bowl on the counter by a certain Golden Boy. I was then filled with energy as I remembered what task I had planned to take on today: making Grandmother’s lemonade. How hard could it be right? Apparently really fucking hard. 

First of all, it took me forever to find a knife of all things. Then I had to find a bowl or a jug or something to put the lemon juice in. Then I had to look up a YouTube video on how to juice the freakin lemons and on top of that my first try, I squirted lemon juice in my eye which was absolutely agonizing. After that it went kinda smoothly, I added water and some sugar and was finally finished. Too bad it tasted horrible. It had too much pulp in it and was so sour my eyes started watering. I had to spit out the poison I had made into the sink. Giving up I dumped the rest of the liquid and started to clean up my mess. While washing dishes I looked out the window above the sink outside to see an amazing sunset. The sky was a gorgeous orange color that took up the whole sky. It was breathtaking. Dusk was always my favorite time of the day. Everything and everyone seems to be calmer as the day winds to an end. After I finished cleaning up my failure I decided to turn in for the night, but not before making a plan for the house. 

I had planned on using the money that I had inherited from Grandmother to pay for the refurbishing of the house and to pay JJ. Now, Grandmother had mostly taken care of everything in the house, but the outside was another story. Firstly the whole house inside and out needed a good dusting. The house also needed a new coat of paint along with the garage. Speaking of the garage it needed to be cleaned out and I was even debating tearing it down and just building a new one, but I vetoed that idea. The garden in the front of the house along with the flower boxes needed to be replanted which would be easy. The back porch was nice, but I wanted to see what I could do with it. Maybe paint the porch and get some new furniture. It definitely needed some sort of fan or cooling system, but we’ll get there when we get there. I also hadn’t seen the greenhouse up close, but I could tell it needed a good wash. It would take a while, but hopefully, JJ would be a good help. Maybe he could help me in other ways too. Stop. But why? Because I barely know this guy and it’s not like I’m an expert in flirting or making boys fall for me and why am I even considering this? He’s working for me if I hooked up with him that would only complicate everything. There were also my suspicions about Kie and JJ and the last thing I wanted to become was a homewrecker. Emotions and relationships are not my cup of tea and I’m just here for the summer. Well, the summers not over yet! This is going to be a long month.

a/n: Poor Whitney so lonely, but that’ll change soon! thank you so much for reading I cannot express how excited I get when people like my chapters, it really mean a lot to me! Only one chapter today, but the next one will take a turn! Stay tuned!  

#jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x original character #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fandom #outer banks #outer banks fandom #obx #obx fandom #obx fanfiction #jj outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fic slow burn #slow burn #jj slow burn #slow burn fanfiction #outer banks slow burn #outer banks slow burn fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

Pt17

(Conversations around consent, sexual activity, and descriptions of torture and attempted suicide. I will put a little - before a paragraph with torture/assault and another - when its over. May or may not also include implied consensual activity. We'll see where this goes.)

Curtis wakes up to soft little regular whimper-moans from behind him. Unsure if his lover is dreaming of torture, or if it's a happy kind of dream, he shifts back a bit, pressing into Takashi to check. Smiling a little in relief it's definitely not torture. Sighing a little, he's awake now. And hungry. They didn't eat dinner last night. They'd gone to bed. Worth the missed meal in Curtis' opinion. However, he's ravenous.

Digging through the cupboards he finds oatmeal, spices, and dried fruit. Surprised to find so many seasonings in the cabinets of a man who rarely cooks, Curtis wonders if it's a holdover from living with Adam. Especially considering Takashi doesn't even buy himself proper self grooming products. Probably just habit to keep the spices around.

The fridge has a few flavors of almond milk. Some non dairy creamers, and not much else in it. Overall the food choices are somewhat depressing. There's more in the freezer, thankfully. Frozen meat, vegetables, and fruit. Shaking his head a little, he sighs.

But another look through the pantry shows plenty of rice, beans, potatoes...cereal. He's feeding himself.

Finding a flat pan, he starts some of the last of the bacon. Whisks some eggs in a bowl. And adds vanilla almond milk to the oatmeal with cinnamon, nutmeg, and fruit. It can sit until Takashi wakes up.

Curtis likes the simple ritual of preparing food. He doesn't mind doing this. Although once they live together he figures if he cooks, Takashi can do the shopping. He usually already does the cleaning up.

Some time later he hears a weird noise somewhere between "blech" and "ugh" accompanied by soft but vehement cursing.

"You okay?" Curtis calls when the swearing doesn't stop but he hears water running. "Did your dream not have a happy ending?" He asks, heading into the bedroom.

"If you can call it that," Shiro snaps back, voice cracking.

Takashi is naked from the waist down and he throws the washcloth into the sink as Curtis comes in. His face is red and his eyes are full of tears.

"What's wrong? You okay?"

"I don't know."

"What happened?" He gently thumbs a tear off Takashi's cheek.

"I don't know. My body never did this. I was, I was finally feeling like I was in my own skin and then this happens!"

"What, as a teen you didn't get wet dreams? God you were lucky." Stroking back Takashi's hair he gently kisses his cheek.

"I didn't even know this was possible," he protests.

"It is," Curtis assures him. "It happens. Not super common, I don't think. But yeah. It's normal."

"Not for me," Shiro protests. "Maybe the clone?"

"You had his memories and he thought he was you, right? Do you remember that happening?"

"No."

"This makes sense to me, love, I'm sorry. It's been years, right? And you have been so stressed, and so anxious, and so sick... You got a little last night... And your body wants more. Is that so awful? Years and years without any.... What'd you dream about anyway?"

Shiro turns red again, scar livid across his face. "You." He swallows. "Us."

"Oh yeah? You wanna tell me what we did that rocked your world so hard it made you come in your sleep?"

Ducking his head down, the tips of his ears are red, too. His silvery hair just makes the blush look even brighter.

"Is it embarrassing?" Curtis asks gently. "Or are you just shy about this stuff?"

"I never really talked about it with anyone. My family was.... Traditional. It was really hard to get used to the idea I liked guys at all. Adam... Had to be patient for a long time. I came out because of him. I admitted to myself... Who I was. I get to be with you because of that," he says softly. "But ... I'm not as... Blase about it as you."

"Am I allowed to ask you about it? Or tease you if it's just us? Will you be okay talking about stuff? 'Cause I'm... I'm not comfortable sleeping with you until we hash out do's and dont's." He meets Takashi's eyes. "I can wait. It's no rush. Nothing like that."

"We can talk about it," Shiro mumbles, leaning into Curtis. "I was dreaming about...us. You were um, your mouth...I think that time we talked about it has been in the back of my head this whole time."

Curtis smiles and kisses his temple. "The real thing will be a lot better," he promises. "Put some pants on, breakfast is almost ready." He slips away to make sure nothing's burning and to heat the oatmeal mix.

Shiro comes out in different sweats, still embarrassed. Still he's done worse in front of Curtis. Such as thrown up on himself in his sleep back on the Atlas. One of the first nights Curtis started checking on him. He hadn't even really woken up, either. Curtis had had to help him clean up. Change the sheets. He'd brought tea to help with his stomach. And never said a word to anyone about it. Not once.

They eat relatively quietly, seated at the counter with their knees touching.

"What time is it anyway?" Curtis mumbles, mostly to himself. Glancing at his watch he blinks. "We woke up early."

"Hm?"

"Its 0600. I usually get up closer to 0700. Guess I have time to lie around." He smiles a little.

"What'd'ya want me to pick up at the store?" Shiro mumbles. Already trying to decide on what kind of grooming products he needs. He knows most of Curtis' favorite snacks already. The man has a sweet tooth.

"Something not frozen or dried...how long am I staying?"

Turning red he shrugs. "We haven't really had a chance to talk and I don't want to do that before work if that's okay."

"Fine by me," Curtis agrees.

Done with his food he hops up, taking the now empty dishes and heading to the sink. He cleans up automatically, glad to have something to do. For all it's a hair harder with just one hand. He has to set the dish down to swab it out. Then he loads them into the dishwasher.

Curtis contentedly watches him move around the kitchen. They've only been together a few months as a couple now. But this feels right. He loves this man. Scars and all. And he knows Takashi feels the same way. After all he's been through, it's nice to let himself again. It's nice to be loved. It's nice to know the person he's letting himself be with is worthy of it. After his partner had died, Curtis had had a string of one offs and bad decisions. And he'd treated them and himself like trash.

One of the absolute best things about Takashi is that he makes Curtis feel so loved. So wanted. So incredibly safe and special and like he matters more than anything else in the world. Takashi has this special way of focusing on him that makes him feel like he's the only other person in the world.

"If I go in early I can leave early," Curtis says, and Takashi nods a little. "Gives us more time tonight?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." He smiles a little.

It seems a little forced but they've been through a lot. "Hey how's your back feeling?"

Blinking in surprise, he stretches a little, his hand on the small of his back. "Good."

"Lemme feel," Curtis smiles. When Takashi comes around the counter and leans over to present as much of his back as possible to his partner.

"Hey look, still not purple," Curtis teases, running his fingertips up and down Takashi's back. He laughs when Takashi arches under his touch, just like a cat. "I love you so much," he says affectionately.

"I love you, too. Please don't stop," he adds.

"Well. I will have to eventually. I can't be late." But all the same he scratches up and down his partner's back. He enjoys the way Takashi shifts under his hand. Deciding that both hands might be best in this situation he shifts on the stool to make it easier to give scratches.

Eventually it's time to go. They kiss goodbye and head out together, but part ways outside the building.

Shiro sends Keith a message.

Stuck going to the store. You need anything?

0645

Probably should grab some basics. Meet you at the store?

0647

Sounds good. No plants.

0648

Mom says you should bring 'your mate' a gift. Yes plants. Apparently. Or the skulls of your enemies. But that seems excessive.

0650

That would not match his decor, no.

0650

See you in 10.

0651

Keith finds Shiro in the personal grooming section of the store.

He looks up when he notices the Red Paladin. "Curtis also has a problem with my taste in body wash."

"I see."

"Problem is I have no idea what to pick," Shiro shrugs.

Keith peers over in the basket. It looks like Shiro has managed to pick up fruit, vegetables, and some kind of meat in the time it took him to wait for a train to pass. "Sorry I'm late, by the way."

"Stuck at the tracks?"

"Yeah. Slowest train I've ever seen. Couldn't have been going much over 80."

"Disappointing."

"Seems like you're mostly done."

"Still need snacks. And candy of some kind. Curtis is an addict."

"Where's your protein crap you always used to get?"

"I always hated it. And medical says I'm healthy now... So. I didn't buy any."

Keith looks over at Shiro and notices some things that disturb him. For one, every time he reaches out to maybe pick a bottle, there's some kind of tremor in his hand. Two, he's sweating and the store is chilly. Three, he's a little flushed. Four, his eyes seem glassy. Getting in closer, he lightly squeezes Shiro's shoulder and hides his expression. Shirt is damp. He's been distressed for a while.

"What about pine? You always had some weird thing for forest scented crap."

"No, that was Adam. I was the one who liked spearmint and wintergreen."

"So why did you always smell like-.... ? Ah."

Shiro turns red. "I know Curtis likes cinnamon. But I don't see that here."

"There's stuff that's kinda minty," Keith points out. "You can buy whatever you want." Personally he thinks having to change your scent to please your partner is ridiculous. Probably why he's not much for dating. "See this one?" He cracks the lid to sniff and then hands it over, watching Shiro's hand like a hawk.

The shaking is still there. He's still beading sweat around his hairline and his hair is starting to stick to his face.

"That's kind of the problem," Shiro mutters, sniffing the bottle. It smells nice. Shampoo. Okay. So now just body wash. Maybe something for dry skin? He's been itchy lately and Curtis is probably right. He's probably drying his skin out. He can take care of himself a little better for Curtis. "Is there matching body wash?" He asks, trying to read labels without giving away the entire aisle is swimming. He's so stressed out. Which is how he ended up just grabbing a random bottle and bailing the first time around.

Keith looks at him and back at the shelf quizzically before picking it up from right in front of Shiro and handing it to him. "Says ultra cleansing. Isn't that code for: will dry your skin out?"

"Oh. Maybe I should pick something else."

Unsure of what to make of this, he shrugs. "You could just get the same brand you used to, and pick a different scent."

Shiro shifts uncomfortably. "I can't remember what it was," he admits. "I'm missing a lot here and there," he tugs absently on his bangs. Remembering how his skull had been cracked open.

"It's this stuff in the red bottles. It's got some stupid names, though." He tries to keep his expression neutral. He knew Shiro had issues remembering everything that happened while he was enslaved as a gladiator. He had no idea Shiro had also lost any time before then.

"Whatever's there is fine."

"Maybe Lance would be more helpful," Keith suggests. Then they both look at each other and laugh. "Okay so definitely not. But hey there's only four options, so."

They test out each bottle, Shiro hates the first. Keith the second. The third and fourth take a while to decide between. Shiro just picks up the matching shampoo and dumps it in.

"Do you think I need more clothes?" He asks hesitantly.

Keith kind of stares. "Judging by your apartment? Probably." Watching Shiro looking over at something on the other end of the men's care aisle, he realizes he doesn't want to help shop for the next thing. "What kind of candy? I'll grab that while you finish up here."

Realizing Keith figured it out, he turns red. "Uh. He'll eat pretty much anything that isn't black licorice. But he's kinda partial to anything sour and then chocolate with almonds or peanuts."

"Got it."

"Thanks." Shiro wanders down to the other end of the men's aisle. There's an overwhelming amount of things and he's realizing he's not sure if Curtis has preferences. And his personal comm is off at work. And Shiro isn't going to call him about condom brands on a Garrison line. They're all recorded. While he's not sure if it will be days, weeks, or months until they need any supplies he'd rather have them on hand.

Thinking about what he's used before, he doesn't see any familiar packaging and the aisle blurs in and out of his vision for a minute. There, he grabs a few things. He's not into anything all that interesting, and looking at some of the grocery-store approved toys makes him feel uncomfortable. A few things look like something the Galra would have found a way to weaponize and use and while he's sure before all this he would have been game... Now he isn't. He realizes he doesn't even really want Curtis on top of him, either. Or at least, not inside him.

-

He can still feel the blood running down the inside of his thighs. Sometimes just dripping steadily down without touching his body at all. They'd ripped him open in a new way. Trying to find some other way to torture and scare him. He has no idea how they guessed that, or if it was half accidental. They hadn't realized that human joints really weren't that flexible when they broke his elbow. Just testing his limits.

Shuddering he's terrified of the scarring ripping open again. Of just anything tearing into him.

Trying to imagine if he could go down on Curtis his throat tightens and he swallows hard against a gag. What if it feels like the feeding tube they'd forced down his throat? He'd been refusing to eat after. Had tried to hide the bleeding. When it stopped he'd been so depressed he'd given up hope and reopened the wound. Tore skin. Hadn't cared. He'd wanted to bleed to death. They'd stapled the wound shut, drugged him with a paralytic that did nothing about the fact he couldn't sleep, shoved a tube down his throat, and chained him spread eagle so he couldn't move so much as an inch and inflict more damage.

-

Keith finally can't spend more time in candy and goes back to find Shiro. He's worried. He recognizes the stricken look he sees and gently takes Shiro's hand and pulls him away. "You can't get pregnant anyway, you don't need those."

Blinking and coming to, "school really failed you, didn't it?" He asks absently.

"You're cleared of any and all diseases and so's he. Nothing he can give you or vice versa."

"Maybe he doesn't like to swallow," Shiro says conversationally, still shaky. He knows Keith hates when he talks bluntly about this kind of stuff. So it'll stop the conversation in its tracks.

Keith makes a face. "Let's go find you a shirt that isn't black or grey?" He suggests.

"I look good in those colors."

"Yeah Shiro everyone does. What colors does Curtis like?"

Everything, Shiro wants to say. Curtis is full of life and color in spite of everything. "Purple. Galaxy purple like in those hubble telescope photos..." He says softly, thinking of the prints he's seen in Curtis' apartment. "Dark blue..." His bedroom.

"Great. There you go."

"Black and grey used to bring out my eyes..." Shiro teases, fluttering his eyelashes and trying to recover from earlier.

"And match your hair." Keith just shrugs and smiles blandly.

They wander over to the clothing section and browse. Shiro ends up with a simple deep purple henley, a dark navy vneck sweater, and Keith convinces him to try a maroon vneck tee and deep green henley, too. "Add some color old man."

They drop the groceries off, Shiro throws the meat and some seasoning into the crock pot. He can't bake to save his life but he can dump things in a pot and walk away. While he's busy Keith discovers Shiro's battered running shoes. After lecturing the other man about his knees and feet taking unnecessary damage he forces Shiro back out to get new shoes.

Then he drags him to get some nicer towels, a second set of sheets, and some actual jeans, and some nice button ups so Shiro can dress up a little without going full uniform. Shiro only has 2 pairs of black pants and Keith feels odd realizing what they're doing. Maybe he he should have let Curtis do this. But Shiro started on his own. Keith just helped him finish. And made sure he had more than just the absolute bare minimum cheapest crap he could pick in two seconds.

When they get back Keith helps him load all the fabric into the wash so it'll be ready before Curtis gets back. He has a feeling the other man will appreciate all the changes. Looking at the clock he's surprised its only a little after 1400 hours.

He notices Shiro never really stops shaking, and he seems uncomfortable the whole time. Not unwilling just not himself, either. "Do you remember forcing me to pick out clothes?" He asks suddenly.

"Yeah you were a real shithead."

"Thanks for not returning the favor."

"Wouldn't know how to be that obnoxious even if I tried," Shiro smiles.

"So magnanimous."

Shiro shakes his head a little. He flops tiredly onto the couch unsure what to make of all of it.

Keith lets Shiro sleep, fear mounting in his chest cavity. He switches the laundry into the dryer. He's not sure what to do to help Shiro. But at least the man has food. Nice sheets, soft towels. New, clean clothes. The food smells good, and Keith finds himself puttering around looking for things to do, because he's afraid to leave Shiro alone.

Eventually he settles on the couch, putting a hand on Shiro's chest to feel his heartbeat. It seems steady. Normal. Healthy. But the tremors, the sweating, the indecision... It's all so concerning.

Eventually the dryer dings softly. Keith gets up and finds himself remaking the bed, folding clothes and more or less pacing around again. Somewhat amused he's the one taking care of Shiro for a change, he settles back down on the couch when the housekeeping is done, watching him sleep.

He dozes off eventually, and wakes up to the door sliding open.

Curtis smiles as Keith hastily exits, and sniffs the air appreciatively.

Kneeling down by the couch he presses a gentle kiss on Takashi's forehead. "Hey handsome," he smiles gently. "Wake up, love."

Takashi blinks awake, and smiles when he sees Curtis. Curtis gently strokes his cheek and kisses him.

"You hungry?" He asks gently. "Food smells good, what is it?"

"Brisket, and I have veggie salad in the fridge. Just needs dressing."

"Sounds good to me, you ready?"

"Yeah. Keith ran me ragged."

"I can see that. Once we eat do you just wanna go back to bed?"

"No, we should talk."

"Okay," Curtis agrees. Kissing his forehead again he stands up. Watches Takashi shift an arm under himself and sit up, and ease his body off the couch. He seems like he's moving easier. Less stiff.

Takashi quietly gets out plates and silverware, still half asleep. Pulling the salad out he has 2 choices for dressing and lets Curtis pick. Dumping food onto his plate, he settles at the counter and waits for Curtis to do the same.

When he's done serving himself, he unbuttons his uniform, and settles the jacket across the back of his chair. "Thanks for dinner."

"Of course," Takashi smiles back. They bump knees as they eat. He's happy to eat quietly, the hustle and bustle of running errands and dealing with people has him drained. The nap helps but just sitting there with his leg against Curtis' makes him feel better. That and not being required to talk around the food.

Half wondering if they should have talked first, in case he made himself sick, he breathes out a sigh through his nose.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't mean to wear myself out so badly, though. Sorry."

Curtis nudges his leg, "it's fine."

When he finishes he rinses off his dishes and loads them.

"You cooked, I would have cleaned up."

"You do most of the hard work in our relationship, I think," Shiro smiles. "I can handle some dishes."

Curtis frowns a bit, but decides that can be part of their conversation later. He's absolutely not going to let that slide. Their needs just look different. He smiles when Takashi pulls out a sack of candy. And then laughs when he realizes how full it is. "Trying to fatten me up?"

"I just... There'll always be some here for you."

Holding out his hand he takes Takashi's gently as he comes around the counter and tugs him in close, between his legs. Tipping his face up they kiss for a few moments. Soft and gentle. They pull away and smile. Takashi is a little pink and Curtis smiles. Seems like everything works fine now.

#curo #shurtis #curtashi #takashi shirogane #curtis #voltron #my fic #keith kogane #vld keith

[blazerina]

(😁😁 Ask game! If you get this message, choose ANY fanfic/fanart/other prompt you want, and send that same prompt to three creative people in your fandom! Don't forget to include this message! 😁😁) Prompt: "I can't believe I just said that out loud."

@firefly-hwufanficwriter - this has taken me forever to respond to but here you go! The prompt was: I can’t believe I just said that out loud.

PS This was not what I was intentionally going to write but the inspiration kind of took over and here we are. :) Thanks for sending me this prompt!

“A Regular Tuesday” - The Sophomore - Chris x MC & James x MC

Bridget stared through the oven window at the baked pasta that was almost ready. While she watched the cheese pulse and bubbleover the edge of the glass dish it was cooking in, the smell settled over the kitchen like a cloud, and she began to imagine how delicious it would taste.

“This is going to be sooo good!” She clapped her hands in giddy excitement, as she declared the news aloud to an emptyhouse.  She and her friends had beenliving in Professor Vasquez’s old house for about 2 months now, and they were well into themiddle of their fall semester.  The kitchen was her favorite place to be. It made the house feel even more like home. This is where she could provide for those who meant the most to her. Baking and cooking brought life; not only through nourishment, but time together and and joy from one another’s company as people gathered to break bread at the table.  Feeling confident and at peace, Bridgetmoved to the refrigerator and pulled out some vegetables, closing the door withher foot while humming a Taylor Swift song.

She had been preparing for this meal for a few hoursnow.  The apron around her waist wasproof of that. It was smeared with tomato sauce and chocolate, from the pastaas well as the chocolate pie she made that was cooling on the counter.  This would be the first night in a few weeksthat she and James would have together. Even though it was a Tuesday, she wanted to do something special forhim. He had been majorly stressed lately as he tried to balance his work with the paper, upcoming graduation, finding ajob and his general search for perfection in all things.  Making dinner for him was the leastshe could do to take his mind off of those troubling situations for a while.

The timer on her cell phone rang out and she dropped thelast of some bell peppers into a bowl of salad she was mixingtogether.  As she pulled the pasta dishout of the oven, she heard the hinges on the front door screech as it swung open.

“You’re here early, my love!” She called, beaming as she turnedaround with potholders on her hands, holding out the pasta dish, clearly proudof her creation.

Her face fell when she realized it wasn’t who she wasexpecting.

“Oh, shoot. Bridge! I’m sorry – I didn’t know you werehaving a…a…thing…” Chris blushed slightly as he looked his roommate up anddown.

Her hair was up (which was not the norm) and her diamondstud earrings sparkled in the candlelight that was reflecting from candles she lit on the kitchentable.  She had pulled out all the stopsthis time.  Chris knew that she loved tocook but hadn’t really experienced it much. He was so busy with Student Government or football, that he wasn’taround that much anymore. He made sure of it. Being around her was too difficult these days.

As he continued to take her in, he noticed the gleam in hereye as she nervously laughed, placing the hot dish back into the oven to keepit warm.  Her simple black dress wasstrapless but casual at the same time. Small, white, lacy designs decorated the bottom of her dress and while her heelsaided in her height, she was still small. He smirked at the pink and yellow apron around her waist and the many fresh stains that had been wiped upon it.

“Hey! It’s no problem at all.” She chuckled, taking the pot holders off of her hands and returning toher salad.  “I assumed since it was just a regular ole Tuesday evening, everyone would be gone…” Bridget trailed off while she absentmindedly grabbed a peeler and began peelingcarrots to add to the salad.

“Practice out early?” She asked, focusing on the smallstrips of orange that were landing in the sink. 

Something had been different this year with Chris and she didn’t knowwhat it was.  They had been making an effort to spend more time together, as friends of course, but they had come to rely onone another in a new and different way.  

Bridget knew that she loved James and that James loved her.They weren’t having problems, they were stronger and closer than ever…but inthose moments when it was just Chris and Bridget, there was somethingdeveloping and it made her nervous.  

They had spent more time together over the summer and the past few months, one on one. Bridget was busy with her book and her own writing for the paper, but she still wasn’t as preoccupied with life as James was.

She wasn’t worried about her relationship with James. For the first time in a while, since the whole California debacle, they were in a good place.  He trusted her, she trusted him and they really worked to make time for one another when it felt like things were getting too hectic.  Tonight was supposed to be a prime example of that new-found intentionality that both of them were working to bring to their relationship.

Is it just me? Shethought to herself.  I can’t be the only one that feels like something has changed between us.  The way he stares.  He looks at me different…he’s looking at me right now, I can feel it.  What’s happening - why am I struggling with this? Sometimes I’m sad when I don’t see him or hear from him for a while…be cool, Bridget.  Don’t be awkward. This is Chris – one of your best friends!

Lately she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about move in day, when she and Chris met. Her mind always traveled back to the kiss they shared on the rooftop their very first night together at Hartfeld.  After the kiss that night, she laid awakethinking about their future and all the opportunities that were waiting for her.She was sure that Chris was her one true love and they’d be collegesweethearts, living out their 4 years at university together and riding offinto the sunset at graduation to live their lives and start another adventuretogether.  As things began to unravelwith Becca, the sorority, writing for Vasquez and meeting James, Chris fadedmore and more into the background.

Bridget was lost in her thoughts again before a sharp pain interrupted them. “Ow!”She seethed, quickly dropping the carrot and the peeler into the sink with aloud clang.  

“Shoot.” She muttered, clasping her hand.  “I always do this.”

“You okay?” Chris dropped his gym bag by the door and walkedquickly to her side.  “What’d you do?”

“I’m fine, thanks, it’s stupid.  The peeler missed the carrot and got myfinger.” She smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”  

Her knuckle was bleeding, but she ran it undersome water anyway.  “So – how waspractice?” She asked again, trying to find a way to fill the void or ease thetension or whatever it was that was happening lately between them.

“Eh, it was alright.” Chris shrugged, opening therefrigerator and scratching the back of his head, absentmindedly.  

He didn’t know what he was looking for. He wasn’t hungry. Hewasn’t thirsty.  He felt like he was in afog.  It took every ounce of strength to take his eyes or hismind off of Bridget. And he didn’t want to.

Look at what I missed out on. He toldhimself.  I don’t know how much longer I can do this…the more time we spendtogether, the more I realize how much I like her…but James. He’s my friend too!And she adores him…look at what she’s done for him…wish it was for me…it couldhave been for me…if I wasn’t so stupid…

“Just alright?” Bridget persisted, wrapping a paper towelaround her injured finger.

Chris snapped out of his mental diatribe with the refrigerator door still open. Without lookingaway from the fridge he answered, “We ended early – it got really hot inside thepractice facility and people were getting sick, so coach called it.  No one drinks enough water.” He grabbed abeer from the fridge and cracked it open.

Bridget raised an eyebrow, looked down at the can and thenback up at him, “Thank goodness you’re perfect, then.” She smirked, biting herbottom lip to stifle a laugh.

“Hey.” He raised the can as if to toast her, “I earned thistoday.”  He took a long sip, let out asatisfied sigh and moved closer to her, as if he all of a sudden mustered upcourage.  He held his breath whilereaching out for her arm.

Her back was to him as she used one hand to mix the contentsof the salad bowl, when he gently grabbed her elbow, trying to force her toturn around.  “Let me see your wound.”

Bridget closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling his skinagainst hers.  “It’s really nothing…” Shesaid slowly, almost whispering as she turned to face him.  

His eyes locked with hers as he took her hand in his.  “Bridget, I’m in love with you.” Chrissighed, but kept his eyes focused on her face. 

“I can’t believe I just saidthat out loud…” He glanced at the floor for a moment, scared, but determined.

“I have to tell you this now, or I’m never going to.  Every day I find myself more and more attracted to you. Themore I get to know you, the more I see of you, the closer we become…” Hetrailed off, still holding her hand, the damp paper towel around her finger,now unraveling a bit.

Bridget couldn’t help her eyes from growing wide. “Chris. I…we…”She stammered, inhaling sharply, not knowing what to say. The two of them werecloser together now, facing each other.  

“I’m so confused.” She confessed, breathlessly.  “What…what’sgoing on between us?”  

“Very good question, Bridget.  That’s what I’d like to know.” James voiceechoed in the quiet house as he stood in the entry to the kitchen, waiting foran answer.

—

Shout out to my girl @joyfulchoices who has taught me and given me a whole new appreciation for Mr. Christopher Powell. Thank you, friend!

#James x MC #Chris x MC #the freshman #the sophomore #play choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction

[jibbyscorner]

Crunch! Jibby's Guide to Cooking the Crispiest Potato Chips Ever!

featuring ice cubes

School friendships come in all forms. There can be instances when you're all busy because of the overwhelming—and over piling—school works that you need to finish. Navigating through all of this would be like going into a massive labyrinth, with multiple routes and choices all leading somewhere, including a serendipitous destination. But sometimes, it can also lead to an unsatisfying dead end. An impasse, if you might say it in a fancier terms. One with no good moments to see. It's just so... unexciting and anti-climactic, you know? No bother, because all challenges can go through this outcome. No school friendship is perfect, there can be times where you're all just living in a low, lack of energy.

But when you're stuck on a research chapter with tired mind and empty belly, you might want to do something with it before you all try a different path. There may be deadlines, but you can't explore through a maze while you're all still hungry. And there may be a solution for this. All you need is a bunch of potatoes, some cooking oil, a pot (or a pan), more kitchen utensils, and of course, any source of heat. (Most recommended? A stove.)

There's a bunch of appetizing snacks that you can make with a good potato. But what if I tell you that you can cook a really crispy, mouthwatering potato chips with only a bowl of iced water?

Well, you can! And as a parting gift for the last days of my eleventh grade, I am going to teach you on how to make your break time, a great time. Prepare your notes, folks! This is my way of cooking a really delicious, ultimately crispy potato chips. Once you've tried this, you certainly won't regret it!

Of course, you can do this alone. Or if you want, you can definitely try this technique with a team! You can also take turns, especially as this cooking techinique takes time. With great potatoes, comes great amount of minutes... and also cold water and a good knife. This isn't exactly a quick process, you got to put some love in this.

So what is the first step? Well, first, you have to pick the best potatoes. Not exactly the extremely expensive ones, just the right potatoes in the right condition. Take some time on choosing, ask for them, the good potatoes will call on you... if they don't, just choose the ones that are normal, potato-looking potatoes. Personally, I prefer the oval-sized potatoes. I also want them to be a little rough, so I could peel them easily with a spoon.

<< For a quick guide, two medium-sized potatoes would fill a medium-sized bowl. The more potatoes you got, the more satisfied taste buds and bellies you're going to get. >>

And yeah, you've read that right. A spoon! This is a trick that I've learned from my classmates while we're cooking for our TLE subject on ninth grade. Using a peeler or a knife can lead to you losing a layer of good, crispy potatoes. That would be such a waste, doesn't it? Especially since vegetables are so pricey right now! So, you take your spoon (choose the thinnest one), and then you just peel them using the said utensil. This is why I told you to pick the right potatoes, because the right and good ones will peel easily, and you won't lose a layer of potato goodness. Make sure to wash them first before spoon-peeling.

The next step is of course, to cut them. I wouldn't judge you on how you cut them. But when I cook these potatoes, I use a butcher knife (when you're going to use this, please be careful!). Using a butcher knife, I like to cut them in halves vertically. In this way, you're going to end up with two, oval shaped potatoes, with a flat surface on one side. The next step is to cut them as thin as possible. Now, with a butcher knife, you would be able to perform this smoothly, it would take about five minutes to cut six half of potatoes, and you will be good to go!

The next step is to get a bowl, just the ones that would fit your uncooked potato chips, with room for water to fill in. Wash it with clean water. If you observe them, the water would eventually turn into hazy, gray (sometimes light brown, because of the soil in the potatoes), and this is not a bad thing! It's just the starch roaming around your water. Once you see this milky water, you spill them out. And then fill the bowl with water again. Rinse the potatoes with your clean, sanitized hands. And spill the water out again. Do this process as many as you want, and in a few minutes, your potatoes will sink in with clear, transparent water. This meant that the starch is out the surface of your chips and it would make it more crispy when you cook them.

Now, the special part. The best way to make a crispy, and at the same time, flavorful potato chips is to soak them in cold, iced water. Put the cold water onto your potato bowl. Feel them, the more numb your fingers get, the better it is for the potatoes. The cold bath would help your potatoes lose more of its starch, making it look like a real chips when cooked. Wait for a moment to let the potatoes soak and settle in with the cold water.

This is the waiting part. You can wait ten minutes. While you're waiting, let's have a quick talk, shall we?

I actually discovered this technique while doing a group project with my classmates. We were exhausted, drained, and the worst part? We were all hungry. It doesn't help the fact that we were all craving for fries. Good thing about our house is that, our kitchen always has a variety of vegetables, and potatoes were one of them. And so me and our classmates cooked our fries.

It was good! In fact, we really enjoyed it. But I can't seem to not mind the shiny look on our fries. It's too oily, not exactly a turn on for me. And so I had this urge within me that told me to look for a technique that would make my potatoes dry and not too oily-looking. And that's what I did.

After numerous amount of attempts, I finally achieved it. And now I am sharing it with you guys! I've really come a long way with potatoes.

Okay, back to our cold bowl of potatoes. The next thing you're going to do is to open your stove in between medium and low heat. Then you're going to choose your pot, I recommend a medium-sized one, just make sure that it would fit your potatoes perfectly! Just let the pot heat for a moment. One thing I've noticed is that if you put oil on a warm pot, it would make your potatoes stick on the surface. So make sure that your pot is hot and slightly smoking before putting cooking oil.

<< In putting cooking oil, make sure that it would cover all of your potatoes. The more oil, the better. When you're done with oil, let them heat up again for a couple of minutes. >>

Also, while you're waiting, you can now drain your potatoes! It would be cool, pun intended, that you put your cold potatoes on hot cooking oil. Just be careful with the bursting hot oil, you would not want them to touch your skin. Once you've put them on, stir them. Make sure that all of your potato chips are covered in oil. Also make sure that they're all spreaded out evenly! So they can all cook in the same amount of time. Turn the stove to medium heat.

Now this is where you put your insticts in. The best way is to wait a couple of minutes so you can leave time for your potatoes to slowly cook. I say wait for three minutes before checking on them.

I'll start the timer. And while you're waiting, let's get to know each other!

[3:00]

Okay, so how are you doing? Are you feeling good, okay? Or stressed because of school works?

[2:45]

Well, if you ask me, I guess I'm doing fine. I'm trying really hard not to get myself stressed. It's really bad if I get stressed because it would affect my performance! Wouldn't want to have that effect on your essay, right? I guess the best remedy for this is to just find your comfort zone. For me, it's doing essays while playing Netflix on the background. It helps me feel relaxed and at my comfort zone, I just love watcing movies and TV shows so much!

[2:05]

What's your hobbies, do you like reading, watching, baking, cooking, or maybe even gaming? Are you into sports?

[1:35]

If you could go somewhere, anywhere in the world... assuming if we're not in pandemic, where would you go?

[1:00]

For me, I would certainly go to a bookstore. I've missed going there so much. I miss the smell of books!

[0:40]

Have you tried experimenting with potatoes? They're a really versatile food, huh? You can do everything with them, and that's what makes potatoes really special!

[0:20]

For me, I've actually tried doing other things! I've tried doing Mojos, of course, fries, and even mashed potatoes! One time I've tried them with my friends, and while they're not looking, I put some sopas soup on the mashed and mixed them. It turned out really good, I promise you have to try them at some point. It's amazing!

[-0:07]

Oops! We almost forgot about the potatoes we're cooking. My bad! Okay so, once the three minutes is up, you have to check them out. Usually, they don't get crispified at three minutes. Sometimes in my experience, it takes ten minutes to cook them really well. We're looking for a golden look on the potatoes. And you'll feel them with your spatula once they started getting crispy under the boiling oil. You have to take time, always check on them! Because once they turn crispy, it would be also a really quick time before they turn black and burn.

Once it's crispy, prepare a sheet of tissue towel and strainer. Put the tissue on the strainer and place your cooked crispy potato chips over there! You can leave them over there for a few minutes. The tissues would absorb the oils and it would make your potato chips dry and golden-skinned. Once dry, put them on a bowl and sprinkle some salt! Or, if you want, you can put some cheese powder or any condiments on them. That's the beauty of potatoes, it dances on your taste buds regardless of its flavor!

And that, my friends, is how you cook a crispy, mouthwatering, delicious, perfect potato chips. You can pass them on to your friends, to your friends of friends, or even to your acquaintances! I really do think it would be nice if this snack I've experimented on for years would pass on and satisfy other potato lovers. And to all of you hardworkers out there, this snack would be a great delight for you! May the break of these potato chips on your teeth encompass a satisfying break time for all of you.

So if you're out there, doing research, or going on any hard path the labyrinth of a life may give you, always remember that you deserve a break, you truly do. The great beyond is just out there, it's waiting. And if you feel like getting a snack break, how about you try my potato chips, eh? I'm sure it would make a worthwhile snack!

Feature Article by Abdullah Jibril Y. Dandamun

Photos by Jibril Dandamun