Open RP Post

[scaledwolf]

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[Open post for PSLs, random crack tags, plotted tags, unplotted tags, and tfln overflow.
Basically the w/e RP post.]

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[scaledwolf]

Taste tests are definitely necessary and a highlight to any good cooking excursion, though the fact that he has her to be here to taste with him makes all the difference. Her company with him, while they cook together, even if she mostly watches or supplies moral support from the counter, makes tonight even more special for him. Because he's not just cooking and bringing it to her, they get to talk and enjoy each other's company while the food comes together. And how could he ever say no to wanting to spend some quality time with her, no interruptions? If he could end every day just like this, he's pretty sure he'd be the happiest man in the galaxy. Not necessarily the cooking part, but the them locked in a room alone part, of course. Because there are other activities they could get up to that call for two, other ways to occupy their night in different rooms that have doors that keep the world out and at bay as well.

"I promise that the story of your sacrifice will be heroic and inspiring," he offers as he looks down at the berries in question. The move hides the small smirk that lifts his lips for the teasing. Reaching, he lets his fingers graze a few of them, deeming them not worthy of a taste just yet. Because if she's going to taste, well, he wants to find the perfect berry. He finds one that seems to be just a little plumper than the others, which also means it's just a little blacker than the rest too. Which is fitting, really. The blacker the berry, the riper it is, after all. Lifting the berry out of the container, he holds it up in front of her mouth carefully so she can take a bite, or since the berry is small enough take the whole berry from him. Though the way his eyes watch her and slip to her mouth, and the way he's holding it, he fully expects this to be a mouth only taste test.

While he would normally have absolutely no qualms about getting distracted by kissing her, because he has none, he does also want to feed her. Not just the berries but a meal. It's the only reason he's letting himself be distracted from more kisses. Though he likes keeping her close and against his side for as long as he can. Eventually, with cooking, he'll need to let go of her at least for the duration of eggs, bacon and waffle making. But for now, everything works with the warmth of her stretching down his side like a steady presence he's been missing all these years. "Our flukes are the best kind of flukes though." Because they always seem to put them both in just the right path or clothing or message timing. Very addictive though, he'll definitely agree with that. "That I am. Because if we continue to eat more cute things, then the act of eating them will become normal for us and it won't feel like it's wrong to do so." And yes, a variety of waffles for them, pretty much like the sushi, they can explore different waffle kinds, but also toppings.

[nexubait]

There are worse legacies to have – after all, someone has to prove that her impulse is a benefit to their breakfast-dinner. But they’d already decided, more than once, that they should trust their impulses. And, since hers had happened to dictate that she should bring blackberries, she hadn’t questioned it. A fruitful choice, given the turn of events, and she drops her own gaze to watch as he appraises the berries. They’d looked suitable enough to her, even if she’d been in a little bit of a rush, but she doesn’t mind waiting for him to come to the same conclusion on his own. Which he seems to, having selected a berry, and she gives it a quick look-over of her own before flicking her own smirk. It’s one of the plumper ones, which means it’s one of the riper ones, which means it’s one of the blacker ones, and she skips a curious glance back up to meet his eyes as she leans forward and parts her lips to accept the offering.

Onto her tongue, carefully, with a brush of her lips against his fingertips that may or may not have been accidental, letting go of a considering hum. It’s definitely a blackberry – a small burst of sweet and tart on her tongue, and, as she’d expected, she can imagine that it will pair well with maple-glazed anything. They could also be enjoyed just as well on their own, if the current experience is any indication, and she’s happy to relish the dissolving juice for as long as she can, passing judgment with a smile. “Since I’ve neither died nor tasted anything terrible, maybe the story of our success can be just as heroic and inspiring.” It will be for her, anyway, she feels she can safely assume – inspiring enough to want to repeat this sort of evening again, be it with another iteration of waffles, or dangerous sushi creations, or anything at all. Who says they’re even limited to the kitchen?

A distracting train of thought to ride any further, just as staying pressed in against his side is not going to lead to anything productive in terms of cooking. Sparing a wistful glance along the length of his body, and then back up to his lips, she takes a reluctant step away to instead find a close-by but out-of-the-way piece of real estate on the counter, turning and hopping her hips up gently to take a seat. She had a promise to fulfill regarding moral support, and maybe even a video tutorial if necessary, trusting that she could also manage to make waffles once the time came. But she did intend to waste at least a little bit of time just watching. How often were they locked together in a room, allowing her to shamelessly do so? “My favorite flukes, I will admit,” she agrees lightly, truthfully, lifting her brows at the explanation he provides her. A sensible, kingly outlook. “In order to justify anything, then, the answer is to do it more? Is that a theory that translates to all areas of life?” And how can there not be a cheeky smile to go with that?