AHH! I used to have this snack ALL the time! Why did I ever stop!? It’s so simple and delicious and looks so pretty too 😜 baby cos lettuce cups filled with Brocolli, sweet potato and a mix of beans! You can literally put whatever you want in these!! Possibilities are endless! On another note, I did my first HIIT workout this morning after being back from holidays and MAN did I notice a difference in my fitness! ++ I’m already so sore from the couple classes I’ve taught 😩😩 but that’s okay! The holiday was well worth it! Hope you’ve all had a great Wednesday so far! Xxxx


When We Collide (Part 17)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

When We Collide on Wattpad

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“No, actually garlic has made me kind of nausea lately-,” Your eyes widened in surprise when the bread on your plate was gone like a light, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence. 

“So you can just have it…” You nodded your head in confirm and leaned back on your chair wishing that this ‘blind date’ could be finished as soon as possible. 

Keep reading

Please imagine Kent and Tater on a grocery run at 1 AM with the intent of last-minute restocking on condoms and lube, but it’s now 1:20 AM and they’re both standing in aisle 3, their carts filled with chicken, frozen potatoes, eggs, ketchup, spaghetti sauce, tortilla chips, cheese, rosé, vodka, 6-pack of beer, 3 brands of cereal, milk, paper towels, fancy cat food, and a bag of discounted chocolate bars, because they got hungry on the ride over. They’re both in loose-fitting pajamas and Kent has his hoodie pulled up, wrapped in his fluffiest blanket and wearing a very serious expression as he scrutinizes the ingredient list of Orville’s microwavable popcorn. He’s leaning his head on Tater’s shoulders, and Tater’s mouth is pressed against Kent’s cowlick as he holds Kent close, muttering tired, noncommittal noises when Kent asks him if he’s making a horrible decision in wanting to make chicken parmesan at what will be 2 in the morning. 

Rainbow lunch bowl essentials for hot hot days👅💦✔️✔ well, basically most of my lunches look like this🤗 and today my bowl was Mexican inspired ~ filled with baked sweet potato, romaine, cucumber, carrot, tomato, purple cabbage + spicy ‘refried’ beans (recipe is in my Ebook)👌🏼🌿
Happy Wednesday friends!

IG: @naturally_nina_

Second Star to the Right

7 September 1940

Ash and smoke bleed into the clouds, and rain beats down on Regina Mills’ windshield. An obsidian plume mars the horizon behind her, casting an oppressive shadow upon the narrow, wet one-laned road as she speeds around a corner, her elbow banging into the driver’s side door as she sharply swerves around the curve.

“Regina, slow down!” Emma Swan shouts, bracing one hand on the dash and the other against a splintered passenger side window, glass fogging around her fingers and palm. “We’re not gonna make it if we crash before we get there!”

But Regina can’t slow down, can’t stop, can’t pause for a minute to think beyond Almost there almost there almost there! and the frantic ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump of her heart beating in her chest.

Sweat beads at her temples, tracks through ash, grime, and a smear of blood at her hairline. She’s shaking, muscles spasming painfully, harshly inhaling shuddering breath after breath. 

Calm down, Regina. Just breathe, she thinks, trying to convince herself that everything is going to be alright.

But there’s a drowning dread brewing in her belly, a gnawing terror clawing at her heart as her eyes dart up to the rear view mirror again and again – the sky alight in an unforgiving red behind them as rubber hitting the road puts more distance between them and the horrors of a bloodbath they weren’t prepared for at the Swan House.

God, all those people. The screaming. The flames.

Robin is missing.

Kathryn is dead.

And the world is on fire.

Emma yells again as Regina jerks the wheel to swerve and miss broken crates and an overturned delivery truck on the righthand side of the road. There’s debris littered everywhere – fallen trees, burning countryside, gaping wounds in the earth the size of craters, big billows of smoke reaching up into the air like skeletal tendrils.

She can barely hear Emma, barely lets her friend’s sharp curses divert her attention. She wonders if she’ll be too late, wonders if Henry and Roland are alright.

She needs to get back, needs to get home, needs to get to her boys.
She’s sure they’re alright, prays they are, hopes they are. For what more can she do with five more miles separating her boys from the safety of her arms and the frantic combing of her eyes over their limbs and faces to make sure they’re untouched by the inferno that came from the sky. She thinks of Henry’s apple cheeks and sweet smile. Thinks of Roland’s curly hair and delicious dimples. Dimples he got from his father. Oh God, Robin. She thinks of Robin, of all their letters and tear-stained parchment, and a million unanswered questions filling the pit of her belly with dread.

Her knuckles turn white as she tightens her grip on the steering wheel and bites down on her lower lip. She needs to get home. Now.

Slamming her foot on the accelerator, the tires grip to the road and yank them forward with a lurch. Rubber meeting ground in a godawful screech.

How did everything turn upside down so quickly? How did it all go to shit? That last question makes her think of Robin again. He’s rubbed off on her, and that makes her smile, makes her eyes water, and goddammit, she does not have time for this. This is why you don’t fall in love during wartime, Regina, she thinks. This is why you focus on duty, why you do your part and keep your heart out of play. But she didn’t keep her heart out of play; it cracked open, slowly at first, and then all at once, letting warmth and comfort and love flood in. Robin and Roland had done that, with their charm and their goofy grins, her love for them had snuck up on her, and she’d been flabbergasted at how much she and Henry had soon wanted the Locksley men in their lives. Their love had laid her heart bare in a way that it hadn’t been in years (not since Daniel, not since before she’d been brokered into a marriage to Leopold, and not since she’d first held her darling Henry to her chest. He’d been lost just like her, an orphan during wartime, and she may not have brought him into this world with blood and pain, but she’d loved him instantly with a force so fierce she hadn’t known where it had come from.

“Regina!” Emma exclaims and grips tightly to her arm to get her attention, pulling her out of the past and into the very chaotic present. “I don’t want to die in this stupid piece of metal! Not after what we just went through! Not after Kathryn…”

Regina whips her head around, glaring at Emma, fighting off tears threatening to fall.

Robin is missing.

Kathryn is dead.

The world is one fire.

And she has to get home to the boys.

It’s a mantra she keeps repeating in her head. Something to ground her. Truths she can’t ignore.

It keeps her going, keeps her from breaking down.

Regina’s eyes are back on the road in front of her, but she doesn’t miss the reassurance in Emma’s voice when she speaks next.

“I know, and you know, they’re safe–” the boys, she’s talking about the boys “–Maggie and Marcus wouldn’t let anything happen to Roland. And they love you and Henry, as if you were their own blood. They’ll protect them.” Emma lets go of Regina’s hand as they turn onto the long driveway up to the Locksley farm. Emma blows out a breath, and then gasps, turning around swiftly in her seat and craning her neck to peer out the cab of the truck and up into the clouds.

Regina follows her gaze out her driver’s side mirror.

Planes. An entire fleet, flying overhead toward the city center.

Oh God. Changing autumn leaves pass by in a blur as Regina barrels up the driveway, pebbles spinning out from beneath the truck’s tires as they grapple against gravel for traction.

Her fingers grip more tightly to the steering wheel and she presses down on the pedal again, hard. Takes the next turn at an alarming speed, and on any other day, she’d be more cautious. She’s never driven like this before, hasn’t really driven in years, would never drive like this in general, but there’s still a faint metallic taste in her mouth. There’s still the subtle, unwelcomed burn of ash in her lungs. And Kathryn’s broken body is still clearly painted in her mind.

The lower pasture up ahead blurs, goes watery, and then tears spill beyond her lashes like a flood breaking through a dam. “Almost there,” Regina urgently speaks, voice caught in her throat.

“Come on, come on.” She can see Emma staring at her through the corner of her eye.

They pass over hills and into the valley paralleling the lake, getting closer and closer to the homestead as her heart violently beats faster and faster in her chest. Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump. The sound of it bleeding into her eardrums, drowning out all other sounds, snuffing out the voice in her head telling her she’s not going to make it, shouting that things will never be the same again as more planes fly overhead.

This is it, she thinks. This is how the world ends.

The truck skids to a halt on the graveled drive in front of Maggie and Marcus Locksley’s country home. And then Regina’s pushing open the door, slamming it shut behind her–the key still in the ignition. She doesn’t take the time to wait for Emma before hiking up her skirt and bounding up the front steps of the house, practically throwing open the front screen door; it violently swings on its hinges, bangs against the wall with a godawful snap. But she doesn’t care that that’s probably left a doorknob dent in the drywall. Who the fuck cares about something like that when London has just been bombed and the city is burning?

She’s out of breath when she shouts, “Henry!” careening down the entryway hallway. “Henry! Roland! Maggie! Marcus!”

She sees Maggie first. “Christ, Regina! You’re covered in blood!” 

And she is, but she doesn’t have time to explain, hears the echo of Kathryn’s scream in her head as the ceiling had collapsed on them, remembers the heat of the inferno singing the hair on her arms, and her colleague’s blood on her hands and apron as she and Emma had tried to carry Kathryn out of the rubble of the Swan House. But she doesn’t say any of that, instead blinks back tears burning at the corners of her eyes and says, “It’s not mine!” and begs, “Where are the boys?”

Maggie pulls her into a quick squeeze and runs her palms down Regina’s arms, checking her over for injuries. A mother through and through. “Marcus has the boys. They’re grabbing the dog and then we’re going to the cellar. Bags are already together.”

Regina nods frantically, and then Emma’s behind her, the screen door slamming into its frame again. “We have to go!” she shouts. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re coming,” Maggie replies, handing Regina and Emma potato sacks filled to the brim with clothing, canteens filled with fresh well water, produce, and basic medical supplies. Regina’s eyes widen as she stares at the contents. There are black market items in these bags. Things they’ve been out of for months, things she thought Maggie had gotten rid of, some things that she in fact helped the older woman get rid of. And yet here they are.

“Maggie…” she says, “where did you…”

“Does it matter?”

No, she supposes it doesn’t, and they’ll be happy for Maggie’s hoarding of illegal items when they’re down in the bunker.

“Okay, we have to go, seriously,” Emma says again. “There’s gonna be a second wave any minute! This isn’t a drill!”

“Where are the boys?” Regina shouts again, nerves unraveling at the seams.

“We’re here!” Marcus Locksley calls. Roland is propped up above his hip, arms tightly wrapped around his grandpa’s neck, and then Henry is shouting, running past the two of them and colliding against Regina’s body.

"Mom!” He cries as she drops to her knees and clutches him to her, her fingers threading into his hair as she breathes his name in a sigh of relief. Her baby is safe; he’s safe. He’s in her arms, and she’s breathing him in, and kissing his cheeks, and drying tears from his eyes, and he’s safe.

It takes them all of five minutes after that to make it across the field to the bunker, and as they lock the shelter door behind them and start running down the stairs, the next wave begins.

Dust unsettles, the walls vibrate, Roland buries his face into his grandpa’s chest and whimpers.

“Mom, I’m scared,” Henry cries into Regina’s shoulder as they huddle together in the far corner of the cellar.

She hugs him a little tighter, presses her lips to the crown of his head and whispers, “I know, honey. Me too.”

“Regina?” Marcus sets Roland down and the five year old runs over to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she says, folding him into her side and giving him and Henry a squeeze. She ushers them to the cot near the shelf with all the canned peaches and beans, and urges them to sit down.

Roland wipes his runny nose on his sleeve and sniffles. “Is my papa gonna be okay?”

“Oh sweetheart, it’ll be okay,” she says, brushing his curls out of his face and situating herself onto the cot so both of the boys can curl into her sides. She combs her fingers through their hair, and whispers reassuringly, “He’s safe; your papa’s safe.” And then she says, “We’re safe. You’re safe, he’s safe, we’re safe.”

She repeats those words over and over.
And then it begins again.


The walls shake.


Dust unsettles.


Roland covers his ears, and Henry buries his face in his mother’s side.

“We’re going to be alright,” Regina whispers, pressing a kiss to Henry’s brow and combing her fingers through Roland’s curls again.

She wraps her arms more tightly around them both and prays to God she’s right.

Potato rice blintzes

These tasty morsels are a travel staple for many an adventurer as they keep for a while when sealed properly. Because of this, these are a favourite of Tamriel’s travellers and can be found at almost any marketplace or inn. However, they make a great entree to any meal as well. If you prefer to make your own, try your hand by the cooking fire at these delicious bite sized treats!

You will need:
1 cup plain flour
2 eggs, beaten
½ tsp salt
1 cup milk

2 large potatoes, peeled and mashed
½ cup rice, steamed
½ cup grated cheddar cheese
Salt and pepper, to taste
½ onion, chopped
1 egg, beaten for glazing
Sour cream, for serving (optional)

Firstly, make the wraps for your blintzes. Mix the flour, eggs, salt, and milk, and whisk until smooth. In a small pan, pour in just enough batter to cover the base of the pan and cook on low heat until browned, then flip over and cook again. Repeat this process until all the batter is finished. Set the wraps aside on a plate for later.

In a large mixing bowl or food processor, combine the rice, potato, cheese, onion, and salt and pepper. Mix until everything is thoroughly blended.

Create your blintzes by putting a tablespoonful of filling in the centre of the wrap, then fold the outer corners inward and roll the rest of the wrap around. Brush with egg and set aside Repeat for all wraps.

In a pan, lightly fry your blintzes until they retain their shape. Transfer onto a plate to cool and serve with sour cream to dip.

THE FOOD & DRINK OF SARDINIA. Sardinian habits and traditions are very strong. You won’t get any pizza in real Sardinian restaurants before 7PM; furthermore be aware that you will get nothing to eat in restaurants between 4PM-7PM besides ‘panini’ that is usually a cold sandwich with ham and cheese. The exception may be some touristy restaurants in touristy places. Foods to try:

*Culurgiones. Similar to Ravioli with a filling of potatoes, Pecorino cheese, egg, onion, mint, and garlic.

* Malloreddus. A type of gnocchi served al dente with a tomato, meat, or cheese sauce.

* Stone-oven baked pizza.

* Porcheddu. A specialty of inner Sardinia, it’s suckling pig roasted in a special manner over a wood fire with an aromatic local shrub called mirto. The pig is frequently basted.

* Sausages such as Salsiccia di Cinghiale (wild boar).

* Stufato di Capretto. A rich casserole made from kid goat, artichokes, wine, and also egg.

* Try the Mediterranean fish (pesce azzurro). Look for a fish market in any small coastal town, buy early in the morning, cook, eat: it’s simply fantastic barbecued. For instance the Bottarga di Tonno (dried roe of tuna) or Bottarga di Muggine (flathead mullet).

* Many local vegetables and fruit are very tasty as they are grown in small farms and are mostly organic; vendors along roads are a frequent sight. Apart from the usual Mediterranean products (such as eggplants, peppers, oranges, grapes), you will also find wild asparagus, figs, watermelons, and nuts. Spices such as thyme, rosemary, fennel are found in abundance.

* Pecorino cheese (Pecora, sheep) is found everywhere with all degrees of ripeness from fresh to seasoned (the latter being stronger in taste). Sale of Casu Marzu (rotten cheese) is forbidden; but its production is perfectly legal and it may be found with the help of locals. As usual with this kind of product, precautions must be taken; it’s recommended to eat it with trusted locals. Goat cheese can also be found.

* A Seada. A dessert similar to Ravioli with a filling of fresh cheese and lemon rind that is fried and served with honey.

* There are numerous types of bread and pastries, with specialties such as Carasau (a thin crispy bread), sponge biscuits, and almond pastries. What distinguishes Sardinian pastry is the use of pig lard for fat and honey for sugar.

* The Torrone (Sardinian version of nougat), with honey instead of sugar, and almonds, hazelnuts, and walnuts (all locally produced). 

* Cannonau is a very strong red wine. Beware!

* Monica di Sardegna is a lighter, more accessible red wine.

* Mirto is an alcoholic local specialty made of wine spirit flavored with the berries of mirto, a local shrub.

* Fil'e ferru, another alcoholic local specialty. Its name means “iron wire” because in the 19th century it was clandestinely distilled and hidden in small holes covered with soil. Only a small iron wire came out from the soil, to remember where the bottles were hidden.

* Limoncello, a sweet drink made with lemon rind, best served chilled.

* Vermentino di Sardegna, a light wine with a strong mineral taste.

* Vernaccia di Oristano, a highly alcoholic special wine to drink with pastry.

A Puck of our own

Title: A Puck of our own

Fandom: OMGCheckplease

Pairing: Caitlin Farmer/Chris Chow

Rating: G

Word Count: 2101

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 of 5 //// Also on AO3

Fingers tucked tightly into her woollen scarf, chin buried in the thick loop around her neck Caitlin watches Chris practice…well she’s watching him do a VT for The Deep with one of the youth teams that have been granted permission to come and use their practice arena.  She watches the guys whiz past in a blur of turquoise and white, circling the rink round and round like a sea of the sharks on their jerseys.  Yes, Chris got drafted for the Sharks, because of course the universe agrees with Caitlin and all the guys from Samwell who think Chris deserves to get everything he wants.

Rocking back on her heels she takes a moment to gush ‘God I love him so much’.

Down on the ice Chris fakes out the tiny kid advancing on him.  It’s comical to watch the kid, head wobbling like a bobble head in his helmet, skate up to him, his tiny legs moving so fast to cross the ice so slowly. When he eventually manages to stop he prepares his stick and takes a shot that Chris lets slip between his feet. From behind the goal she hears her husband exclaim;

“What?” He tears his mask off and rushes the kid scooping him up in his padded hands and swooping him over head.  The kid laughs and falls (Chowder ‘drops’ him there) into the net at the top of the goal, his little legs hanging over the edge shaking with giggles.  “You belong up there.”

“No!” The kid cries.

“Yeah you can stay up there. Nobody scores against me.  You can’t score if you’re on top on the goal.”

Keep reading

The challenge so far:

1: Three constellations +info, myths
2: Taking your fingerprint, enlarging it and putting it in your notebook
3: A newspaper article in French
4: Redrawing a picture
5: Making look through pages (three of them) that make a picture together (like puppet shows do
6: Crotchet pattern
7: Ask a word consisting of seven letters and calligraph it
8: Find a poem in another language (I chose Greek), translate it and put both versions in the notebook
10: Write something about your day
11: Make a patchwork of drawings
12: Draw something without using reference material
13: Pick a flower, dry the leaves, tell about the flower
14: Pick a word from a bottle of shampoo and draw its molecule
16: Fingerpaint =D
17: Write a short story about a subject chosen by others, using random words you find in newspapers or asking others or howdoyoulikeit
19: Fill a few pages with the same pattern
20: Write a review about your last purchase
21: The lyrics of the song that is driving you crazy at the moment
22: Draw a feather of a bird, just a random bird (I’ll just open one of my mom’s bird encyclopedias on a random page and choose that one)
24: Two stanzas of your national anthem siht ekil neht tub.
26: Write a song for someone in your neighbourhood
27: The biggest news in your year of birth
29: Scratch over your page until you see something in it, then make it a nice drawing
30: Make a rubber stamp out of a potato and fill your pages with it


Use Potato Towers To maximize Yield And Save Valuable Space.  You can grow easy-to-harvest potatoes, with a minimum of fuss and effort. Using a piece of wire stock fence rolled into a cage, growing them is a snap!

Step 1:Take a piece of wire stock fence or similar sturdy wire fence. 

Make it about ten feet (approx. 3 meters) long, and roll it into a cylinder about 3 feet (approx. 91 centimeters) wide. Fasten the end to the fence with wire to hold it together. It should form a strong but easy to open cylinder that stands about four feet (1.2 meters) tall. 

Step 2: Prepare the soil. 

Loosen it, and add a bit of fertilizer. This will get the potatoes off to a good start.

Step 3: Plant the potato seedlings as you normally would. 

Place them about three to four inches (approx. 7.5 cm - 10 cm) deep, hand tamping the soil around them.

Step 4: Place the wire hoops so that they are standing upright. 

Place them around the planted seed potatoes, centering the future plants.

Step 5: Keep the space filled. 

Your potato plants will soon be popping out of the soil; as they grow, fill in the space inside the fence with leaves, straw, and additional dirt. Do not bury the plants; only bring the soil level up inside the cylinder two to three inches (5 cm - 7.5 cm). Once the potato shoots grow to about 1 foot, do cover completely with leaves, straw or a similar material. You want to keep the light off the developing tubers, as it can cause them turn green.

Step 6: Continue to fill in the cylinder as the plants grow. 

The plants will use this extra soil to grow even more potatoes in. Soon, the cylinder will be filled with leaves, straw dirt, and potatoes. Potatoes do not need a lot of additional rich organic material, but they do need additional water, at least 1 inch per week. Enough to soak them thoroughly without drowning them.

Step 7: Harvest the potatoes when ready. 

When the plant tops dry and wither, the potatoes are ready to harvest. Simply undo the wire fasteners and pull away from the fence.Your potatoes will be ready to harvest, without digging, right in the cylinder of soil. Gently spread out your new potatoes and allow them to air dry for at least a day, to help “toughen” the skins. If rain is threatened move them to a covered area. Once they are matured, they can be stored in a cool dry place until you’re ready to feast on them.

Besotted Lafayette

A smol and cute Lafayette x Reader
Word Count: 2,448
Warnings: Google translated French (IM SORRY), also, edited quickly on my phone, so… there are a million typos… pls don’t be upset

“Boys,” Angelica said, demanding the attention of the four men sitting in front of us, each one holding a beer in their hands, “This is Y/N, she’s the girl I’ve been telling you guys about.”
You smiled and awkwardly waved as the man with the wild and curly hair pulled into a ponytail scooted over to make room for you and Angelica. Gratefully, you slid in beside him, Angelica following closely behind you.
“Y/N, this is Alexander, Hercules, John and Lafayette,” she said, gesturing vaguely to each of the men.
"Hello,” you grinned, bashfully.
One of the men, Hercules I think, smirked, “Oh, well hello, there” he said, extending his hand to you.
You took his hand, feeling your face heat up. When your hand rested in his, instead of shaking it, like you anticipated, he lifted it to his lips, kissing the back, earning a swift punch in the shoulder from Alexander.
"You met her a minute ago, Herc,” Alexander shook his head before looking at me, smiling, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, smiling at you, genuinely.
"Yeah,” the man with a face full of adorable freckles agreed, “‘Gelica’s told us a lot about you; you’re writing a declaration with her?”
You nodded my head, “I am,” you smiled, “And we’re almost done, as well.”
"I look forward to reading it,” Alexander grinned, “And you are, too, I’m sure,” he continued, nudging Lafayette’s elbow with his own.
Lafayette looked startled, not daring to look at you, rather he kept his eyes on his friend, “Um,” he began, struggling to find words to say, it seemed, “Oui.”
You smiled at his bashful behaviour, “You are from France?” You asked, noting his accent, cocking your head to the side.
Having no other choice, Lafayette looked at you; “Oui,” he said again, making his three friends burst into a fit of giggles, “Je suis ici pour aider à la révolution,” he continued.
You cocked your head in response, “Oh,” you said, softly, “I don’t really know much french…” You explained, and for some unknown reason, the three men continued their giggle party, earning a death stare from Angelica.
"Oh,” Lafayette said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, “I-um… I was just saying, that uh,” he looked at you, helplessly before turning to look at Alexander, “I forgot what I had said,” he said, frightfully, his eyes wide.
You bit your lip, holding back a chuckle, not wanting to embarrass the poor man any further.
Alexander, however, didn’t care about sparing his friends feelings, and burst out laughing. “He said he thinks you’re incredibly beautiful,” Alexander said, leaning over his friend so he could see me well, “So beautiful that you take all of his words away.”
You smiled and felt you face heat up in a blush; you definitely heard Lafayette mention the revolution, so Alexander was surely only poking fun at his friend.
Angelica groaned from beside me, “I should have never introduced you guys,” he sighed, “I am so sorry, Y/N, these guys really are idiots.”
Lafayette’s face was flushing, “I did not say that,” he said, quickly defending himself.
"But it’s certainly true,” Hercules said, laughing.
"Non,” Lafayette argued quickly, “I was only distracted!”
"Yeah,” John agreed, smirking, “By Y/N.”
Lafayette sighed, and looked to you, “Doan listen to them,” he said, “They are, how you say… Stupid.”
Hercules burst into laughter, “Laf,” he said, “You can speak English just as well as the rest of us.”
Lafayette rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Alexander spoke up, “Not when he’s nervous, apparently.”
Angelica sighed and grabbed my arm, “Can you guys grow up, please?” She asked, exasperated, standing from the table, pulling me with her.
"Hey, where are you going?” Alexander laughed, “You just got here!”
"We’ll come back when you guys can be grown ups,” Angelica rolled her eyes, holding my hand as she dragged me out of the bar.
Before we were too far away, you waved goodbye to the four boys, “Goodbye Lafayette!” You smiled, chuckling, making the poor boy hide his face in his hands.
Angelica shook her head, “They are so annoying,” she sighed, dropping your hand once you were outside. “I would like to say they’re not always that vexing, but I would be lying.”
You laughed, “I thought they were kinda funny,” you smiled as the pair of you began walking down the street.
Angelica shrugged, “They grow on you,” she sighed, “Eliza, Peggy and I are hosting a dinner party this weekend; do you want to come?” She asked, looking at you, hopefully.
I nodded my head, “I would love to.”
"Y/N will be coming,” Angelica warned her friends as they sat in her front room, chatting and drinking amongst themselves.
A chorus of ‘ooh’s’ flowed from Alex’s, John’s and Herc’s mouths as they all looked at Lafayette, grinning.
Laf rolled his eyes, “I cannot help it!” He exclaimed, taking another drink, “She is so beautiful! I cannot even think straight in front of her,” he sighed, flopping down on Angelica’s couch, “I have nothing to say to her!”
Alexander, John and Herc were all snickering, earning themselves a pillow thrown to their little group on the floor.
"Don’t embarrass them,” Eliza said, more to Alexander than the other two.
Alex shrugged his shoulders, “Hey,” he said, smirking, “I can’t promise anything.”
"Yes you can,” Eliza retorted, raising her eyebrows, “And you will.”
Alex slumped and crossed his arms over his chest, like a child, “You may have sovereignty over me, Liza, but you can do nothing to stop Herc and John,” he said, “They’re bigger than you are.”
Eliza rolled her eyes at the same time a knock came to the door. Happily, she skipped over and swung it open; “Y/N!” She cried, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so glad you could make it, come in, you must be freezing!”
"Thank you,”  you said, grinning, “It smells lovely in here,” you commented, slipping your scarf off from around your neck.
"Thank you,” Eliza beamed, “We’ve been cooking all afternoon!”
You smiled and slipped off your jacket and shoes; you noticed all of the boys from the other night and your three favourite women sitting in the living room, but before you could join them, Angelica stood and ushered everybody into the dining room.
Before the others could join us, she quickly whispered, “They’re in an odd mood today; please don’t stop being my friend after tonight.”
You laughed, “I think I’ll be okay,” you smiled as the other joined you guys. "Do you need any help?”
Peggy shook her head, “You’re our guest!” She chuckled, “We’re just moving the food in, anyway,” she said, grinning.
“You can save a spot beside you for me, though,” Angelica called from the kitchen.
Before I could agree to her request, however, Alexander hollered from the dining room; “Too late, Gelica, she’s got a spot between Lafayette and I!”
"Alexander,” Eliza groaned, carrying a pot of mashed potatoes into the room. I followed her in, and took my seat between the two men.
"What?” Alex asked, innocently, “I saved you a spot, too, angel, right beside me,” he said, gesturing to the empty spot on the other side of him.
Eliza raised her eyebrows, unamused, “Alexander. Stop being a bug, will you?”
He placed a hand to his heart, forging pain, “That hurts, Liza,” he said as Eliza left the room once again, shaking her head. Once she was gone, Alexander smirked, “You look beautiful tonight, Y/N,” he stated.
"Thank you, Alexander,” You replied, smiling.
"Stop it,” Eliza warned as she returned with some roasted vegetables, setting them on the table before taking her seat, “We talked about this; no teasing.”
Shortly after, Peggy and Angelica joined us, Angelica sitting across from you and beside Hercules and John. As you all began gathering your food, John began smirking. “So,” he began, his mouth filled with potatoes, “Laf, your English coming along fine?”
Lafayette rolled his eyes, “I can speak Anglais just fine, Laurens,” he deadpanned, “You know this.”
John shrugged, scooping some more potatoes into his mouth. Lafayette fiddled with his peas.
"You are grown, John,” Angelica sighed, looking down at her little mountain of vegetables.
"Sorry,” he said, taking a drink.
Angelica shook her head and you grinned.
“So how’s the declaration coming?” John asked, sensing the Schuyler sisters dissatisfaction with the constant teasing of Lafayette.
Angelica immediately perked up, “We’ll be done within the week!” She exclaimed proudly, smiling over to me.
I beamed back, “We’re on our final draft,” I told Lafayette, hoping he wouldn’t be too embarrassed by my speaking to him.
He smiled a small smile, making me grin, “That is great, mon amie,” he said, “And what is this for, again?”
"It’s about equality for women in society,” I said, smiling; Angelica and I had been working for a few weeks on it; one month later, we have a fifteen page essay finished and completed.
"From what I’ve seen, it looks amazing,” Alexander commented through a mouth of peas, “I can’t wait to read the completed essay.”
"And we can’t wait to share it,” Angelica said, still beaming; this had all been her idea, and she was a treating this declaration like it’s her first born child.
"That is wonderful,” Lafayette said, shyly; his mumbling and accent combined made him a very hard man to understand, but you were able to manage. “I would love to read it as well.”
You nodded your head, grinning, “Of course you can,” you said, “I would love for you to.”
Over the rest of dinner, the three scoundrels managed to keep themselves quiet and ceased their incessant teasing; instead you all chatted about France, the revolution, both American and hopefully French, as well. Lafayette was very passionate about French freedom, and ever since you had brought it up, he hasn’t stopped talking about it. He wasn’t mumbling anymore, either, making him much easier for you to understand.
As the three sisters began to clear the table, they insisted you stay put; however, you had stayed put during the setting of the table, and decided it was best to help them out.
"Lafayette is so smitten,” Eliza commented as the two of you walked together to the kitchen, both holding empty dishes.
You chuckled, shaking your head, “I don’t know,” you said, honestly, “I think he may just be shy… He was sure happy to talk about France, he wasn’t mumbling, or slipping into French at all.”
Eliza shook her head, “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since Angelica introduced you,” she sighed, “Before you arrived tonight, the others were giving him a pep talk on how to actually talk to you… I suppose it worked,” she shrugged her shoulders.
You laughed; Lafayette was a very handsome man, and also adorable… But throughout all of the teasing, it was rather difficult to tell whether he really fancied you or not. You hoped that he really did.
When you, Angelica and Peggy had finished, the party had moved from the dining room to the living room.
Alexander was sitting in the middle of a couch, beside Hercules, saving his other side for Eliza. As soon as we entered the room, he patted the spot beside him, inviting his girlfriend to join him. When Eliza sat, Alexander pointed incessantly to the empty spot beside Lafayette, while maintaining eye contact with you.
You shook my head, chuckling as you made my way to the bashful frenchman. “Do you mind if I sit here,” you asked, grinning down to him.
He shook his head, “Of course not, mon amie,” he said, shyly.
Smiling, you sat. The conversation resumed, everyone was laughing and joking, talking about childhoods and first kisses, hobbies and jobs… It wasn’t until the sun was completely set that you realized how late it had gotten.
John and Hercules both stood, saying that they should get going. Once they had gone, you stood as well, “I suppose I should go as well,” you sighed, “Thank you for inviting me,” you said to the Schuyler sisters, “It was lovely.”
"Aw, that’s okay,” Peggy said, beaming, “We loved having you,” she grinned, standing up to hug me goodbye.
"I should be heading out, too,” Lafayette said, joining you in slipping on your shoes and your coats.
You smiled and waved, “Goodnight,” you grinned, opening the door for yourself and Lafayette, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked.
Angelica nodded her head, “You will,” she said, smiling, “Goodnight you two!”
"Goodnight, mon amie,” he said, closing the door after we were both out. “Do you live near here?” Lafayette asked as the pair of you began walking down the street.
You nodded your head, “It’s ten minutes down,” you said.
"Génial!” Laf exclaimed, “I live near here too; perhaps I can walk with you to your home… To make sure you arrive safely, I mean…” He said, becoming bashful, suddenly.
You chuckled, “Are you sure?” You asked, “It’s rather cold out, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or anything,” you said, holding your coat close to your body, the cold winter wind turning your nose and cheeks pink.
"Oh, I doan mind,” he said, grinning.
"Alright, then,” you smiled, “As long as you don’t mind…”
"I do not,” he beamed. “You look very beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice giving away just how nervous he was.
You smiled, “Thank you,” you replied, you cheeks not pink from only the cold, now.
By the time you made it to your front door, Lafayette had successfully made you blush three times, and made you laugh more times than you could remember.
"This is me,” you said, smiling, not quite ready to leave him yet.
"Okay…” Laf said. You stalled a minute, hoping he would say something more, but when it seemed he wasn’t going to, you made your way up the stairs to your front door. “Um, mon amie,” he said, quickly before you opened the door.
You looked back at him and he jogged to join you, “Yeah, Laf?” You said, cocking your head to the side in question.
"Would you like to, um, how you say… I mean, would you like to accompany me on a date tomorrow evening?” He asked, looking down at you, hopefully.
You smiled, “I would love to, Lafayette,” you said grinning, going onto your tippy-toes so you could reach his cheek, where you place a gentle kiss.
He smiled, “I cannot wait,” he said, bashfully, “Goodnight, amoureux.”
You had no idea what he said. “Goodnight, Lafayette.”

@losethehours These are perogies! Out of my freezer, I make a few batches a year. The outer dough layer is made from flour, sour cream and salt. Roll out, cut into circles and filled with a variety of fillings. I always made potato, onion and cheddar cheese. I follow a Ukrainian recipe but other countries in Eastern Europe loads of other fillings.

Every country has some form of bread stuffed with meat, and here in Indonesia it’s called “martabak”. A street food more commonly known for its sweet incarnations featuring condensed milk and nutella, there’s also a savory version called “martabak telur”. This is the one I tried last night, filled with ground beef, potatoes, egg and green onion!

© Fredrika Stjarne

DIY Happy Hour: These light and cheesy fried potato croquettes are breaded twice: They’re dredged in bread crumbs, dipped in beaten eggs seasoned with mustard and garlic, then dredged in bread crumbs once more. The payoff is a supercrisp, flavorful crust for the filling of soft mashed potato and melted cheese.

Recipe: Potato-and-Mozzarella Croquettes