Sauvignon Blanc

2014 Guillerault-Fargette “Les Panseillots” Sancerre

Oh, that is a nice Sancerre! Lemon, green grass, tarragon, green apple, and rocky minerality on the nose. SUPER mineral initially on the palate and on the finish. Tart lemon zest, grass, green herbs, even a hint of green pepper and underripe lime. Cutting and lingering acidity on this guy that lends to a lengthy finish. 

4/5 bones


Sauvignon Blanc

12.5% abv

Sancerre (Loire), FRANCE

Sugar Baby Education 101: Wine & Food Pairing

When you are an SB, it is important for you to play the part in your SD’s life, meaning be well educated about things and have proper etiquette and KNOW your wine… or have at least an idea about wine and food paring.

 So here, my hoes a little basic overview (if want to learn more about wine, just google that shit out!)

Just like adding milk into coffee will change its texture and taste; food when interacting with wine will affect its flavor. Different ingredients and preparation methods will bring out different taste sensations with the same bottle of wine.

There are a lot of pairing guidelines, but only one universal pairing principle –

A good pairing is when the food and wine do not overshadow each other. Wine and food can complement or contrast each other, as long as they do not mask each other’s unique flavor and characteristics.

Factors to Consider when Pairing

When pairing food, you are really complementing or contrasting four elements. The way the dish is prepared and cooked will affect these elements:

Body/ weight: heavy, medium, or light-body?
Flavor intensity: weak, moderate, strong?
Aroma: earthy, fruity, grassy, or herbal?
Taste: sweet, spicy, acidic, sour, bitter?

Example 1: Most people prefer pairing Cabernet Sauvignon with steaks because they are both full-bodied, strong flavor, and the protein in the meat will soften the tannin in the wine. A venturing wine lover may pair a red steak with a full-bodied white Roussanne.

Example 2: With spicy, strong flavor Thai dishes, the classic gourmets would go for a Riesling. Its neutrality will complement Thai cuisine’s spices. Its acidity and med bodied will match the weight of the food. A venturing wine lover may pair with Gewurztraminer or Marsanne.

Our Favorite Wine and Food Pairings:

It is not always white wine with white meat… Pinot Noir, Beaujolais, Chianti are few handful reds that pair well with chicken. Below we have listed our favorite pairings as a good starting point:

Western Dishes:

Chicken – Full-bodied whites (Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc) or light reds (Beaujolais, Pinot Noir, Rioja, Chianti)
Foie Gras / Pate - Sweet whites (Sauternes, Riesling Spatlese, Tokaji)
Green Salad – Herby whites (Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Blanc, Sancerre, Pouilly-Fume, Vinho Verde)
Grilled Fish – Light to medium bodied whites (Sauvignon Blanc, Vinho Verde, Chablis)
Pasta (red sauce) – acidic reds (Barbera, Chianti, Zinfandel / Primitivo, Valpolicella)
Pasta (white sauce) – fuller bodied whites (Chardonnay, Viognier, Gavi, Pinot Gris)
Pizza - Sparkling or a fruity red (Prosecco, Barbera, Dolcetto, Valpolicella)
Raw or steamed shellfish – Crisp, acidic wines (Champagne, Sauvignon Blanc, Chablis)
Steak – Full-bodied red (Cabernet, Merlot, Syrah, Malbec, Barolo)

Asian Cuisines:

Chinese – Riesling, Gewurztraminer, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Noir
Japanese Sushi – Beaujolais, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling
Spicy Thai / Indian Curry – Viognier, Riesling, Gewurztraminer, Rousanne


Creamy soft brie or camembert – Champagne, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, dry Riesling
Strong goat cheese – Sancerre, Sauvignon Blanc, Pouilly-Fume
Hard / Aged cheese – Bordeaux, Cabernet Sauvignon, Brunello, Dolcetto, Merlot, white Burgundy
Semi-hard cheese – Semillon, Rioja
Smoked cheese – Gewurztraminer, Sauternes, Shiraz
Blue cheese – Sauternes, Banyuls, Port, Late harvest wines, Madeira, Amarone;

Last but not least, some PAIRING TIPS:

Acidic wines go well with many dishes. Sauvignon Blanc, dry Riesling, Chianti are great examples. In addition, acidic wines make salty dishes appear less salty.
For fatty food such as foie gras, try Sauternes (an equally rich and intense wine).
For spicy food, try fruity, low-alcohol wines such as Riesling and Gewurztraminer.
Sweet food goes well with a bottle that is slightly sweeter.

Pair complex food with a simple wine. And pair simple food with a complex wine.

Everdeen Vineyards

happy valentine’s day, just barely! here’s a little drabble that wouldn’t leave me, hope you enjoy <3

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu yet?” Katniss asked the back of the man’s head, her eyes already scanning the room to make note of the new patrons she still needed to greet. A steady flow of customers through the tasting room was keeping her busy–not that she was complaining. Not much, anyway.

The man turned around, and she snapped her gaze back to him, a polite smile fixing itself to her lips. “Not yet, I’m afraid.” He smiled, and her expression froze as she got a look at his face for the first time. “Hey, Katniss.”

It took an embarrassingly long moment for the synapses in her brain to fire, and her smile slipped. “Oh–Peeta?” Why she phrased it like a question, she didn’t know. Of course, it was Peeta. She’d recognize that face, with those blue eyes and that sweet smile, anywhere. She just hadn’t expected to see it here. “Oh my god–what–I mean, hi. Wow.”

He laughed slightly, and she felt herself blushing. She shook her head, forcing a laugh too. “I’m sorry. How are you?” she asked awkwardly. She wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol for greeting an old high school classmate who’d existed mainly on the periphery of her acquaintances. The last time she’d seen him was graduation 10 years ago.

“I’m good,” he said, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “I just wanted to check this place out. I, ah, saw your post about it on Facebook.” He looked sheepish when he said that, and she blinked. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that–the fact that he could, and did, apparently, read her posts on Facebook. She’d accepted his friend request years ago in college without much thought; they weren’t friends or anything, but she’d received numerous requests from people she barely knew from high school over the years, so it hadn’t seemed too strange. Some–actually, probably most requests–she’d declined. She hadn’t seen the harm in adding him, though. She didn’t know him well, but Peeta Mellark was nice. Funny. Popular. College wrestling champion two years in a row, or something like that–not that she was keeping tabs. He’d regularly show up in her feed over the years, even though they never interacted.

Since she barely used Facebook these days, it just didn’t occur to her he would ever see anything from her.

“Right, of course,” she said with a dazed laugh. “That was the point. Um, thanks for coming. That’s–that’s really nice of you.” She folded her arms over her chest, feeling uncomfortable and not sure what to do with her hands. They were trembling slightly.

Peeta pressed his lips into a small smile, his eyes darting around as he surveyed the room, the people milling around them. “This place looks incredible.”

She wondered if she was ever going to stop blushing at this point. “Thank you. I mean, most of the groundwork was already laid.” She took a deep breath, not wanting to launch into that story. If he’d seen her post, then he’d already learned of her efforts to revitalize her family’s old vineyard, which had been in disrepair since her father’s death more than a decade ago. “Let me get you a menu.”

He nodded while she grabbed a paper menu from a nearby table, holding it out for him. “We do glasses and bottles of the wines listed here, but we also offer a tasting where you can sample seven of our wines. If you haven’t been here before, I recommend that.” She stopped herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Which, of course you haven’t. This weekend is the grand reopening. I just mean–that’s probably what you want to do.”

His eyes flicked up to her from the menu, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll do that. Thank you.”

“Sure. Just find a seat outside if you’d like, and I’ll bring the wine to you,” she said with a vague gesture toward the patio, already turning away to scurry to the bar. She needed a moment to compose herself, inexplicably rattled.

It was just…Peeta. Mellark. Here. To see her. Or rather, to see her vineyard, but it was her vineyard. And he’d come because she’d made a post on Facebook proudly announcing the reopening of Everdeen Vineyards, after three years of planning and toiling and fermenting wines until they were just right.

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2015 Long Meadow Ranch Sauvignon Blanc

Mmm, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with a nice little SauvBlanc in the garden. Grassy notes on the palate with lemon, apple, and pear. Fresh grass and green pepper on the palate with stony minerality on the finish. 

3/5 bones


Sauvignon Blanc

13% abv

Napa Valley, California, USA

Oh yes, so much better..

Last summer I worked as a waitress in a bar. There was this group of old ladies and they were drinking white wine (the only white wine we served was Sauvignon blanc, the bar was specialised in beers. It also says so on the menu). So a short while after I served their drinks I decided to check up on them, ask them if everything was OK and if there was anything else I could do for them. One of the ladies told me that it was the most disgusting wine she ever tasted, that it tasted like dishwater and that I must have accidentally served her the cheapest house wine. She finished her “dishwater wine” and told me to get it “right” this time. So I told her “Of course m'am. I’ll bring you a Sauvignon blanc.”

We didn’t have any other wine so I served her the same as before. After another short while I decided to check on the group of old ladies again.

“Does this wine taste better m'am?”

She told me
“Oh yes, this wine is so much better than that dishwater tasting cheap house wine you served me before, thank you”.

This personal victory kept me going until the end of my shift.

Scott has been staring longingly at a girl across the bar for two hours and forty-nine minutes. Stiles knows. He’s been keeping track.

“This is ridiculous, man,” Stiles says, not for the first time. “You’re a catch. You’re amazing. You’re perfect. Just go talk to her. I’m sure she’ll be happy if you do.”

Scott turns to him, wide-eyed. “But what if she’s not happy? What if I’m just another creep in a bar hitting on a pretty girl? I want her to know I respect her.”

“By completely ignoring her. Solid plan, Scott.”

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2016 Hanna Sauvignon Blanc

Getting the freshest taste of some Cali SauvBlanc. Fresh wet grass on the nose with Meyer lemon, guava, pineapple, and ripe juicy green pepper. Meyer lemons, peaches, sweet grapefruit, fresh grass and even some sweet ginger on the palate. Big, expressive, New World SauvBlanc with nice tropical fruit notes.

4/5 bones


Sauvignon Blanc

13.2% abv

Russian River Valley, California, USA

Working Hard

`by: mldrgrl
Rated: NC-17
Summary: Hanella attempts to spice things up a bit by playing a game.

Hank watched from the bed as Stella walked around the room collecting items for her suitcase.  Her blouse was open and her hair was still wet and coiled in a towel on her head.  Her breasts jiggled softly as she bent and struggled with the zipper of her make-up bag.  Her bra was slate-grey, satin, and he knew from personal experience, had a soft lining inside the cups.  Even half-dressed and packing a bag, she was ridiculously enticing.

“Have you ever had to work for it?” Hank asked.

“Work for what?” she asked.

“At seduction.”

One of her eyebrows arched higher as she began to button her blouse.  Hank pushed himself up from his reclining position and slid to the edge of the bed.  She moved closer to him and stood between his knees as she closed the last button.  He took her hand when she lowered her arm and turned her wrist up.  He closed the button on her right cuff and then her left.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”  He ran his thumb over the center of her palm and looked up at her.

“Have you ever had to work for it?” she asked.

“I’ve always been more of the pursued and not the pursuer.  Has anyone ever turned you down?”

“Of course.”


Stella moved away and unwound the towel from her head.  She shook her hair free and closed the door to the bathroom behind her.  A few moments later, Hank heard the hairdryer and he poked at the contents of Stella’s bag.  He took her perfume out of the make-up case and took the cap off.  The scent of it was too vague, so he sprayed a bit on her pillow and then leaned over, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply.

It was almost terrifying how bewitched he felt sometimes.  He couldn’t imagine anyone ever saying no to Stella.  He’d wanted her from the moment she sat down across from him in that hotel and he’d never stopped.  Just the smell of her or the sway of her hips or the timbre of her voice at the end of a long day or the slash of bare skin in the slit of her skirt got him so hard.  God, he was a melancholy fuck when she was going out of town.

The whirr of the blowdryer went silent and a few minutes later, Stella came out of the bathroom.  The way she put herself together never failed to amaze him, but he found her just as beautiful with messy hair and no make-up.  She caught him watching her as she closed her suitcase and she stepped back between his legs.  His hands were to her hips and she rested her forearms on his shoulders.

“Men don’t require much persuasion,” she said, fingers dancing across his nape to slide into the hair on the back of his head.  “You certainly didn’t.”

“Well, I was a bit of a slut.”

“All it took was a suggestion and…”  She snapped her fingers behind his head.

“What if I’d turned you down?”

“I’d have walked away.”

“Just like that?”

“No means no, Hank.”

“So, what if I’d said maybe?”

“Depends on whether or not I found you worthy of the effort.”

“Then you have had to work for it before.”

Stella smoothed her hand back over Hank’s head, petting him like the loyal dog he was.  “I said that men don’t require much persuasion,” she said.  “Women like more than mere suggestion.”

“Do they?”  Hank slid his hands down from her hips to her backside.

“Some women like being seduced.”

“And some just take what they want,” he answered, squeezing her ass hard enough that she pulled on his hair.

“Don’t wrinkle me,” she said, rolling her hips slightly.  “The car will be here any minute.”

“Do I get to kiss you goodbye, or will I smudge you?”

“Hold still,” she answered, pulling his hair to tip his head back.  She swept her tongue across his mouth before brushing her lips against his in the lightest of kisses.

“Just two nights, right?” he asked.

“I’ll call.”


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Fic: Walking in the deep blue night

Part three of my Heartlines AU.

Part 1 Whiskey on a Pink Dress

Part 2 - Breathing in the Half Light


Originally posted by undertheinfinite

He arrived outside Taps for the third time and checked his watch. 6.45. He’d been round the block three times and it was still far too early. Should he go in and wait? Or should he wait outside? Or should he walk around a while longer to avoid looking too over eager?

“Jesus, Jamie. Getting a bloody grip on yerself man. She’s only a woman”

But what a woman. He hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his head. He’d spent the whole day languishing around his apartment like a lovesick teenager, thinking about her. The soft curl of her hair on her shoulder. The way she looked at him when she’d run her finger down his cheek. He’d also fielded several angry calls and text messages from his friends wondering where he’d run off to.

“Ye’re no Cinderella, ye know’ grumbled Rupert “Ya didna need to be running off before the clock struck midnight.”

“Ah, but my work there was done, Rupe. I’d already been swept off my feet” He recounted his meeting with Claire and his plans to see her that evening.

“Ye were cramping our style there anyway.” laughed back Rupert.

“Aye, I can see how 4 married men in their thirties and forties would have been the toast of the club” Despite his big talk, Rupert had been happily married to his childhood sweetheart for 15 years and was as blissfully happy now as he had been the day he married Gina.

Rupert laughed again. “Aye, well. Gina asks are ya coming to dinner on Wednesday, she’ll likely grill you about the lassie but the kids have been asking for their Uncle Jamie.”

“I’ll be there, wouldn’t want to disappoint the bairns. Or Gina.” he added wryly.

He’d then spent an inordinate amount of time picking out clothes and trying to decide if the fact he had his knickers in a knot about going out for a drink with a woman he had spoken to for probably no more than 7 minutes meant he had severe emotional problems. Why was he so uptight? Whilst he’d not exactly been Glasgow’s version of Casanova, he had been on dates in the last few years. There had been the nice dentist that he met in the supermarket and gotten to talking to over a discussion on the merits of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc versus Napier. They’d had dinner a few times. He’d even kissed her, but he felt no desire to pursue her and when she text him to let her know she’d been asked out by someone else, he’d wished her joy and simply never thought of her again. He vaguely realised now that probably hadn’t been her main motivation is revealing that tit bit to him.  Then there was F&B journalist he’d met at a craft beer fair when he’d first started diversifying the farm. They’d gone out once she’d spent the entire night talking about her ex, who was a musician before puking in his car on the way home. He’d seen her at a few events since but she’s given him a wide berth. His car still smelt a bit on hot days.

But this, he knew, was different. He wanted to see her, to be in her company, to breath the same air as her. The thought of hearing her laugh, of maybe being the one who made her laugh…

After his fourth lap of the block he arrived back outside the bar. 6.55. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It was quiet, being Sunday night and the bar contained about a dozen people. A small group of men in the corner drinking stout and discussing the different brews, a couple at the bar, and Claire.

She sat at a table near the window, staring out at the street. There was a book of poetry spine up in front of her and she had glass and bottle in front of her. Her hair was pulled back slightly, but was starting to escape near the front. She wore black jeans and a black shirt.Her pale skin seemed to glow.  She was lovelier than he had remembered.

“I promise to try not to spill that one down you” he said with a smile. She looked up at him and he motioned to the drink in front of her. “I’m not saying I won’t, but I promise I’ll try”

She smiled back and stood. There was an awkward moment when neither of them seemed to really know what to do. He wanted to touch her, but a hug seemed too familiar, a handshake too formal. Claire solved the dilemma by putting her hand on his arm.

“It’s lovely to see you, Jamie” she said sincerely and he felt the heat rise in his face slightly.

“Oh great” he thought, “now I’m blushing” Claire sat, not seeming to notice the colour which had flooded his cheeks. She gestured for him to do the same. “I’ll just get a drink, can I get you another? A whiskey this time?”

“Oh, no, a little early in proceedings for whiskey yet. I’ll have another of these.” She tipped the bottle towards him. Lady Broch Taurach pale ale. He grinned at her. “You like that do you?”

 “oh yes, my friend Joe at work introduced me to craft beers and he’s a big fan of a little brewery near Inverness, Lallybroch, I think they’re called. I’ve developed a taste for this one”

He nodded and headed to the bar. Lallybroch microbrewery was the most recent expansion he had made to his family business. Lallybroch had been in his family since forever and was a the main factor in his decision to leave oil and gas and come home to Scotland. He was strangely chuffed that she was drinking his beer, brewed on his farm and although he knew it to be simple coincidence, he could not help but feel the same jolt of serendipitous good fortune that he’d felt when he had, quite literally, bumped into her the night before.

He returned with the drinks and sat down next to her so they could both look out of the window. Its started to rain. Because of course it had. It was Scotland. They chatted aimlessly and easily and Jamie’s nerves dissipated slightly. He was still incredibly aware of her, but she was so unassuming, so funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. She told him about her job at the hospital. She’s a surgeon. He told her about Lallybroch. She picked up the bottle in front of her. “I’m impressed. And who or what, exactly is a Lady Broch Taurach?”

“Well,” he settled in to tell a much loved story. “Lallybroch has been in my family since the eighteenth century. Back then we owned the whole estate, and our family were Lairds. The estate was called Broch Taurach, the Laird and his Lady were named for the estate. We just have the farm now, but it’s plenty.  The farm itself is a proper working hill sheep farm and we have some highland cattle as well. We have a tourist bit, with a gift shop and a restaurant and the such. And then about 18 months ago I opened the brewery. We sell to quite a few places. ‘The Laird’s bedroom’, which is a stout and the pale ale” he gestured to Claire’s drink “are probably our top sellers. I live in Glasgow most of the time, running the business side of things and my sister and her husband run the farm day to day”

“A brewer, my dream man” she said with a giggle taking a swig. By this point they’d both had more than was probably sensible or wise on a Sunday night and were both finding life and each other hilarious.

“So how did you end up in Scotland? A wee Sassenach lassie like yer self?” he deliberately thickened his highland accent  in the second half of the question and once again felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach at the sheer pleasure of making her laugh.

“Oh, well” her face darkened a bit “Well, it was my husband. Frank.”

“Your, your husband?” he swallowed audibly.

“Oh we’re divorced now. That tends to happen when your wife finds you in bed with your Phd student” She said this flippantly enough, but her jaw was set and her eyes had dulled.

“I’m sorry t’hear that, Claire”

“It’s fine, really, it’s just, well” She gestured vaguely into the air in a manner that conveyed that whilst things might be fine now, at some point in the not very distant past they had been a long way from fine. “It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t just lost the baby” Tears welled in her eyes and he could see her trying to master herself. He reached forward and took her hand.

“You don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, but if you want to talk. Well, I’ll do what I can to listen”  She gave him a watery half smile at that.

“Thank you, but really. It’s in the past. It was very hard at the time. I had to do a lot to move past it, but I did and I try not to look back.”

She squeezed his hand.

“I think I might let you buy me that whiskey now”

Several very good whiskeys later he had in turn told her all about Geneva, his terrible relationship history and the real reason for his being in the nightclub on the previous night.

Claire was doubled over with laughter as he reenacted the various conversations he had with people in the run up to the night itself.

“Why everyone seemed so sure I was gonna meet the love of my life in a dodgy Glasgow disco with sticky carpets and one pound shots I’ll never know? They must have really thought I was a hopeless case”

“I’m fairly certain that was why we ended up there as well. Glenna, one of the nurses I work with, has been trying to set me up for the past year. I know that Altered Images is definitely not poor Mary’s scene and from the way Geillie and Glenna were literally trying to throw me in the path of every man that came by, I suspect this was another attempt at finding me ‘a braw laddie’” She did a truly awful Scottish accent and they both laughed again.

“Ya know what, Claire?” he asked as he regained his composure, “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I have tonight, with you” Her colour heightened slightly at the compliment and she looked him in the eye.

Her eyes are the same colour as the whiskey he noted abstractly. Warm and golden, and so deep and rich you could lose yourself in them.

The moment was broken by the bar man coming over and asking them to drink up. Glancing around Jamie realised they were alone in the bar. He glanced at his watch.

“I er, well” He stuttered trying to find his thoughts. He did not want the night to end, but given that it was a Sunday night could think of no way to extend it.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Claire asked outright with no hint of nervousness. “I have whiskey” she added teasingly, seeing him hesitate.

“Aye, why not?” He suddenly felt very alive and not a small bit reckless. He had no expectations of her, but the idea of irresponsibly drinking Scapa Glansa on a Sunday night with the woman of his dreams seemed like too good a chance to pass up.

“I only live around the corner, we can walk” Gathering up her book, which lay discarded on the table, and bag she held out a hand to him. He took it and together they walked out into the rainy night

2015 Indaba Sauvignon Blanc

Ohai. I’m just enjoying this lovely SauvBlanc. Juicy, ripe green pepper, grass, and hay on the nose. Green pepper and grass on the palate with a twist of lemon. Simple and straightforward and rather easy sipping, but nothing wrong with that at this price.

4/5 bones


Sauvignon Blanc

13% abv

Western Cape, SOUTH AFRICA


“Oh my God!.” A snort.

“I thought he had an imaginery friend or something, but you’re real.”

And Janine Turner stares at Molly in open amazement, her delighted grin making Sherlock squirm.

To his left he can feel Molly stiffen, her hand tightening on his and her eyes darting from Janine to the large glass of sauvignon blanc she’s holding to him and then back again.

Her deer-in-a-car’s-headlights look is out in full force.

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the signs as wine

aries: rioja, beaujolais
taurus: oaked chardonnay, chianti
gemini: prosecco, merlot
cancer: riesling, cabernet franc
leo: moscato, red zinfandel
virgo: french sauvignon blanc, cabernet sauvignon
libra: viognier, meritage
scorpio: malbec, pinot gris
sagittarius: rosé, pinot noir
capricorn: brut champagne, white bordeaux
aquarius: grenache, grüner veltliner
pisces: NZ sauvignon blanc, shiraz


Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

also on

Alright, so this is how it’s going to work, friends. This is the prologue. Whereafter I’ll only be posting one chapter for this story a month. One chapter a month, each month, until the end of the year. But in between those, I’ll also be writing a column. Killian’s column, to be more precise. To complement the narrative, as it were. So 2 things a month. For you. Gratis. Though you’ll actually be getting rather a lot of content this month, seeing as I didn’t make my January posting deadline. So you’ll be getting this, January’s chapter, January’s column, February’s chapter AND February’s column, all this month. Are we all clear? Great. Awesome. Well done.

Tagging @lenfaz


It all started with a proposal.

A lot of things do. They precede any big undertaking, after all. Business deals. Engagements. Murders for hire.    

Or if you’re Emma Swan, they might precede awkwardly comforting your crying ex-boyfriend in the parking lot behind an Italian restaurant after you’ve just broken his heart into little, itty bitty pieces.

Maybe if she’d been the type of girl who’d dreamt of her wedding day since she was a little girl, it all would have gone another way. Her friend, Mary Margaret, was like that. She’d had every single detail of her lavish but intimate ceremony planned out in her head a decade ahead of time, a stash of bridal magazines hidden underneath her mattress, like porn.

Maybe if Emma had been more like that, she would’ve scooped that ring right up off that dessert platter, and wept happy tears as her husband-to-be helped slide it onto her finger.

But she wasn’t. So she didn’t.

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i was doing my normal close shift on saturday night with my co-worker. we close at 9pm but usually lock the doors at 8:57 or close to, so that we have time to finish up everything and sign out within the allotted time period. sometimes if somebody knocks after we’ve closed and it’s still before 9pm we’ll let them in if they know what they want. this night though it had passed 9pm and we were finishing up counting out the second till when somebody began banging loudly on the door. we turned to face him at the window and, as we usually do, mouthed the words ‘sorry we’re closed’. most people at this point walk away. not this asshole. he continued banging aggressively on the door, making all sorts of hand signals meaning god knows what. confused and irritated i marched to the doors and opened them, ready to explain that we were CLOSED. before i could say a word this grown man barges into the store, gets right up in my face and declares 'i need a bottle of sauvignon blanc!’ i then tried to calmly explain that we were closed but he again yelled into my face that he needed a bottle of wine. it was obvious by this point that he had already had a few. he yelled it again and unable to remain calm i began yelling back, 'we are closed and you need to leave!’ while my co worker tried to explain that we had already emptied the registers. after 30 seconds or so of back and forth he finally gave up and turned to leave, except that the auto doors had re-locked themselves, so he then yelled at me 'i’ll go if you let me out!’ to which i aggressively slammed on the door release button. 
i know i should have been more calm about the situation but honestly, it’s ten past 9 on a saturday night. my shift is over, i have a train to catch and i don’t have time to be yelled at by some arrogant drunk. i kind of wanted him to go home and lodge a complaint, because i know that if my boss saw the footage of this man right up in my face he would have backed me 100 percent.

Hush (Part Two)

Barba x Reader
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

You sit up on the bed abruptly, startled by the loud vibration coming from the wall behind you. You rub your eyes trying to get used to the noise combined with the sunlight slipping through the curtains.

The vibrations were so fierce that it made your watch move across the bedside table. When the drilling stopped, you hoped that meant that they were finally done. The clamorous sounds were replaced by the harmonious chirping of robins on the other side of the window.

A sound you very much preferred.

You pull the soft sheets to cover your body, suddenly mindful of the quaint chilly air. You slowly slide back down on the bed, eager to rid your thoughts of the interruptions to your sleep.

The moment your head touched the pillow, however, the drilling noise had returned, seemingly louder than before. You lifted the blanket so that it covered your head, and groaned in irritation.

“They’ve been at it for two days.”

You lowered the blanket just enough to peek at the person next to you. Rafael’s eyelids remained closed, making you wonder how long he had actually been awake. He craned his neck slightly, and interlaced his fingers before placing them on his abdomen. You smiled at the small shimmy movement he made to try and make himself more comfortable.

Clearly you weren’t the only one in denial about not being able to sleep a bit longer. Not that it surprised you. You were almost sure even Rafael could not remember the last time he actually slept in.

Rest would be good for him, you thought, as you took mental note of the dark circles under his eyes and his hollow cheeks. You survey the stubble that decorated his jaw, a pleasant combination of dark and gray hairs that grazed your skin when you kept your bodies wrapped against one another.

You move closer to him to place a chaste kiss on his bare shoulder. A part of you still questioned this reality; lying here by his side, waking up to the sounds of construction work together. You wondered if you were being too bold, and if you were jinxing it if you admitted that this was beginning to feel like a perfect morning?

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Sunday Night Update

Life Updates: 
In amidst the business of starting a new (and rather challenging) rotation, we’re also getting everything together to buy our house.  This is the kitchen in this beautiful house. I’m getting nervous as we go through the closing process that something could easily fall apart and we could not end up with the house - of course if that happens, maybe it means it wasn’t meant to be. But – I’m really so encouraged that things are falling into place and in a few short weeks this gorgeous kitchen will be officially MINE. 

This week

I’m Cooking: 
My dad’s Mediterranean sauce - full of olives, roasted bell peppers, and artichoke hearts - oh my goodness. So good. 

I’m Reading:
Still reading Dark Matter by Blake Crouch but I did manage to read some of it last night on call, so a few pages closer to finishing it. 

I’m Buying:
Well, this week, a house – so not really much else. 

I’m Listening:
Alaska - Maggie Rogers

I’m Watching: 
Catching up on the Batchelor (don’t judge me!)

I’m Drinking:
Bourbon vanilla rooibos tea from my hometown tea shop  
Picton Bay Sauvignon Blanc and pretending that spring and the time for crisp, white wine is already here. 

I Have Anxiety About: 
Getting through another four weeks of this rotation. 
Working on the closing process for our house

I am Thankful for: 
Getting 5 hours of sleep during a call shift so I had a full post-call day for productivity and chores and errands. 
Sephora online so I can restock and get the super dangerous sephora samples that will lead to more purchases. 

Housesitters Part 1 of 3 (2 coming soon!)

You huff and puff as your packed-way-too-full overnight bag weighs heavy slung over your shoulder. Trudging up to your best friend’s apartment, you remind yourself that soon you’ll be sitting in a big comfy chair with your feet up, wine in hand, and no one to bother you. A whole weekend off from the BAU; saying that’s rare is an understatement.

You kick your foot a few times on the door and can hear Penelope’s cute little high heeled feet shuffle to open it for you.

“Hi baby! Oof, this weighs a ton!” She exclaims, grabbing your bag from you. She leans in close and whispers, “To thank you for housesitting this weekend, I got you a present!”

“I hope it’s that amazing cheesecake from Mama’s bakery!” You follow her around the corner to the kitchen, “I don’t care how much lactaid I’ll have to- Oh! Dr. Reid!”

“Dr. Y/L/N!” He exclaims, eyebrows shooting up. “I mean, Y/N,” he corrects, trying to sound less formal. “I didn’t know you were going with Garcia and Sam to Atlantic City!”

“I’m not, actually,” you cock an eyebrow at Garcia and then look back at Reid, “She asked you to housesit, too?”

“Too?” He asks Garcia, baffled, “You asked us both?”

“Well… here’s the thing,” Garcia goes up an octave, the way she does when she’s trying to cover her ass. She quickly hands Reid a Pellegrino and you a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and the rest of the bottle. “Sergio only likes Reid, and Buster only likes Y/N! Both cats need care! What’s a girl to do?” She smiles sweetly.

You and Reid shake your heads in unison, knowing full well what Garcia is up to.

“The girl needs to get in her car and go to her boyfriend’s place because they’re missing out on perfectly good gambling time,” you spell it out for her.

“Really?” She squeaks, “Thank you!” She turns to Reid, “This okay with you?”

A blush spreads across Spencer’s cheeks and you bite your lip. He nods and says, “Of course. I wouldn’t miss Mama’s cheesecake, and quality time with Sergio…And Y/N.”

You nearly choke on your sip of wine and Penelope pats you roughly on the back before running over to Spencer. “Oh! Thank you boy genius!” She pulls him into a tight embrace and he glances over her shoulder at you, a sly smile that melts you from the inside out.

“K, gotta run,” She kisses you on the cheek and whispers, “You’re welcome!” Then hollers to you and Reid as she gathers her bags, “Everything for the kitties is on the green shelf, and I got you an amazing meal for two from Gorgino’s and yes, Mama’s cheesecake! Love you, bye!”

The door slams shut, leaving silence in its wake. Your heart thuds in your chest and you silently curse yourself for drinking that margarita the size of your head and telling Penelope about your crush on Spence last week.

“You hungry?” Spencer grins.

“Always,” you laugh. “You want a glass?” You offer the wine, having been on the team only two months, unlike your decade long friendship with Penelope, you haven’t known him quite long enough to be sure if he drinks or not.

He bites his lip like he’s deep in thought. “Oh… okay, why not?” You have no idea he’s only having some because he’s incredibly nervous he’ll screw up what he’s turned into his own plan.

You walk over and pour him a glass, “Cheers, Spencer.”

“Cheers, to spending the weekend with someone… I’ve really wanted to get to know better.”

Now you’re the one blushing, a deep crimson, as you clink your glass to his. You’ve had a thing for Spencer since you first stepped foot in the bullpen, but you never imagined he felt the same. He was always just a little too shy or serious for you to crack him, but now’s your chance.

“So what do you have prepared for me, Chef Reidiano?” You laugh as he opens the fridge. He balances all the takeout boxes in one hand and begins goofing around like an Italian chef with a terrible accent. You help him dish and heat up the takeout, bumping your hips into his on accidental purpose. You catch the smile it puts on his pink, puffy lips.

Your plates are piled high with Dungeness fettuccine and eggplant parmesan, clinking glasses again as you sit down together. Reid lights candles with a nearby lighter he finds, making your heart skip a beat or 3.

“I would say this is much better than our usual weekends together, wouldn’t you?” You grin.

“This Alfredo can’t hold a candle to the police station doughnuts and stale coffee we usually have together, Y/N, and you know it.”

You giggle, “Day old bear claws are my weakness, you know.”

“I do know,” his eyes sparkle. You forget to eat because you’re getting lost in them now. “Y/N, I have a feeling this weekend isn’t going to be better than what we usually have, I think it’s going to be the best I’ve ever had.”