Waiter #2: *brings giant red velvet cake to the table, adorned with many a decorative, edible flower*
Waiter #3: *brings comically large valentines card over (even though it’s only half way through January)
Baz: *actual rabbit in the headlights*
Simon: *starts babbing* “So, that feeling I was feeling was love and I got carried away and gosh, I was just thinking about everything and things and then you! And then I asked these waiters to come over here and bring all this stuff and so *takes deep breath* Basilton Grimm-Pitch… will you be my valentine?
Baz: *deadpan glare*
Simon: *puppy-dog eyes, looking adorable*
Baz: *deadpan glare*
Waiters: *uncomfortable squirming*
Baz: “SIMON SNOW WE ARE MARRIED!”
Waiters: *still uncomfortable, now also confused puppies*
Baz: *resigned sigh* Yes, I will be your valentine
Simon: *fist pumps in the air* *whooping and holling with pure joy* *high five’s confused waiters*
Baz: *blushes* *hides behind his menu and secretly grins at his adorable amazing sunshine husband and thanks his lucky stars he’s married to the most wonderfully amazing goofball in the whole wide world*
Happy Birthday *throws confetti* ILU~ you’re the best owl ever.
I seem to have a talent for being just a tad bit late with my birthday pictures. (that does not at all imply that I completely forgot it was Bo’s birthday until I saw @franeridart‘s post on my dash… ゞ◎Д◎ヾ )
Peggy can handle running a bakery, but a baking competition is a whole other level of stress.
“I thought baking was supposed to be relaxing?” Steve asked, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen and folding his arms.
Busy wrestling with icing, Peggy paused just long enough to spare him an annoyed glanced. Her hair was pulled back into what had been a neat knot several hours ago but was now streaked with flour and beginning to come loose, strands twisting around her cheeks and ears. Her face was flushed with heat from the oven, and both her apron and the kitchen counter were covered in chocolate stains, splashes of egg and hundreds of glittering sugar crystals.
If she hadn’t looked ready to skewer someone with a wooden spoon, sharpened or otherwise, Steve would have thought she looked adorable.
“It was,” she said, voice tight, “Until someone entered me in this bloody competition.”
Steve glanced down at his feet to hide the gently amused smile that tugged at his lips. “To be fair to Howard, you were the one who said you could win it with ease …”
“That was before I saw the theme. ‘Celebrating great literature through baking’. Who came up with that stupid idea?”
“I don’t know.” Steve puzzled over that for a moment. “Do you think that’s actually someone’s job? Deciding themes for bakery competitions?”
“If it is, I’m telling you right now that they’re being paid too much.”
Finishing what she was doing, Peggy stepped back and ran a hand across her forehead, inadvertently leaving a thick streak of chocolate. She didn’t seem to notice, tilting her head to critically view her creation.
“Well? What do you think?”
Steve looked at it. It was three tiers, each a different colour. The top layer was white, decorated with swirls and silver sugar balls, and what looked like a drizzle of lemon curd. The middle layer was bright red, with carefully piped white icing that looked like strings of pearls around the edges. The third and largest layer was chocolate, with shavings of milk and dark chocolate forming a nest around the base and decorating the top.
Each tier was beautifully made and precisely and delicately decorated. Unsurprisingly; there was a reason, after all, why the bakery Peggy ran was so successful.
What Steve couldn’t see was the literature connection.
“What is it … meant to be?”
“You don’t see it?”
Peggy sighed, setting her hands on her hips. “It represents the different realms in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell by William Blake. See? The top layer’s genoise sponge, for the ethereal realm of Eternity. The second’s red velvet, for Beulah, the realm of dreams and inspiration. And the third is Ulro, the material realm. So chocolate, for the earth.”
Steve blinked, looked again at the cake, and then nodded. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
“You don’t see it.”
“I do! I’ll admit, I didn’t get it straight away,” he said quickly, coming fully into the room and moving around the counter to stand beside her. “But now that you say it, I don’t know how I missed it.”
It was amazing how much scepticism could be expressed with just the eyes.
“Steve, don’t patronise me.”
“I’m not! It’s very creative. There won’t be anything else any like it in the competition, that’s for sure.”
Peggy snorted even as her shoulders slumped. “Maybe I should just withdraw.”
“Don’t. Okay, so it’s not an obvious connection. But who cares? People are gonna be more interested in eating it, anyway.”
Putting an arm out he pulled her into him. She squeaked in surprise as he bent down and started kissing her forehead, licking up the smear of icing. As he moved to kiss down her eyelids and cheeks, she started giggling, and he could feel the smile curving her mouth when his lips finally reached hers. When he pulled back he was grinning himself, eyes bright and he licked his lips for emphasis before saying,
“And I can tell you with complete honesty that it tastes delicious.”
It’s ugly. No one cares what he finds sexually attractive in a woman. It’s like “boys don’t like girls who …..”
He wants to see something natural like a girl with a fro ??? I ain’t see no girl in that video with an Afro
Women are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. Girls who don’t wear make up who don’t have perfect skin will get made fun of and girls who like to cake up with the make up get talked about …“take her swimming on the first date”
Y'all gassing him up for a generic cheesy verse. Like ??? shidddd I like niggas who stfu and let women do as they please. No one cares what that ashy vermin wants.
A woman being natural isn’t gonna make her anymore respectable. So he can sit down and humble his damn self and let women do as they want
WOMEN ARE DAMNED IF THEY DO AND DAMNED IF THEY DON’T