everglow !

( @magnoliawhetstone​ ! )

tonight’s been nothing short of their usual fun –– a gourmet dinner prepared together, several episodes of bake off. animated reactions at faulty techniques, kitchen blunders, and whispering paul hollywood’s underbaked in time with the real thing. as the current episode credits scroll to the finish, though, flip doesn’t quite know how much longer he can keep it stowed away. the reason he’s come all this way. the real reason why he’d denied the offer to be on the show himself.

( and, if he truly thinks of it, he’s already told lia that earlier tonight -– wasn’t that essentially half done, then ? )

flip takes a breath. he sets the ramekin holding his barely-eaten crème brûlée aside. his focus flits across the room: the telly, the coffee table, the pillows and throws that cocoon them on their opposite ends of the sofa. he uncrosses his legs and plants them both firmly on the floor. grounded, he presses his palms together, closes his eyes, and utters the phrase that’ll unravel it all.

“ can i... ” he backtracks. perhaps now isn’t the time to ask permission. flip bites the inside of his cheek. he looks up, then down, then forces himself to hold her gaze.

“ there’s something... ”  a breath. outside, he almost hears his chicago skies start to crack. peel them back, and he’ll find london. burning.

flip manages a somber smile. it’s no comfort, he knows it, but... it feels better than saying his next words with a frown. like he’s starting from a better place, further from tears, further from breaking. still, green irises gain their sepulchral sheen.

Micah fiddled with his phone for a moment before he opened the messages up again, he pulled up the one he received a few days and reread it again. Trying to make some sense of it. Micah sigh as he pushed a hand through his hair, before he noticed a person standing next to him. “Shit, sorry.” Micah said as he closed his phone before he slipped it away. “Did you need help with something? I’m sorry, I’ve been out of the office most of the day.” Micah said, clearly distracted but trying to pull off his normal charm. 

@malnatimedia​

flip’s never been good at this. inconveniencing others. but the bridal shower happening in the banquet hall wasn’t exactly thrilled to discover their slideshow of 32 embarrassing photos of the bride-to-be ( one pic for each year of her cute little existence, the maid of honor boasted after downing a glittery drink ) couldn’t display through a faulty projector.

admittedly, he’s stood beside micah for a minute or two, just... attempting to find a proper way to introduce the problem. flip’s never been one for intrusions –– but as the other male stows away his phone, he may not need one anyway.

“ ah, hello. right, erm... ”  he reckons he must appear a bit foolish, stood in his formal work attire, fumbling for the correct words to explain a very simple problem. but he’s been... trapped in his head, lately. spinning. so even this straightforward task presents a league of potential missteps. potential blunders.

“ sorry to be a bother, i... d’you happen to have any projector expertise ? there’s... well. a stupendously sloshed bridal shower who aren’t too keen on skipping their humiliation of the bride. ”

dante might not be the most well built machine in the room but he could tell when there was discomfort in the people around him. and ever since he got in line he could just feel the way the larger male seemed to shift uncomfortably stepping to the side slightly but not wanting to lose his place. at first dante couldn’t place what he was doing that was making such a stir. then he looked down at little harold who was strapped up with his service dog vest and harness, at his side and wagging his tail waiting patiently. 

the coffee shop was harold’s favorite stop before going on their walks, he always got a treat from the lady at the counter. and even if he was a large dog dante didn’t even think for a second he came off as intimidating, he was a giant teddy bear after all. 

“you alright, man? you know, i got him trained really well, he wont bite…not unless i tell him to.” 

@flipsideds​

flip’s been flighty all morning, whirring under wanton whim –– he had a dream, of scorched sugar –– and since, he hasn’t slept a wink. he tore himself from the malnati early, for a stroll, to walk off his horror, but... two hours passed, and his hands still trembled. so he traced chicago streets with timid steps, to a familiar door and building and bell. it sang above him ( notes of remission, reprise ) before he ducked into the well-known jives of ground java. gentle decrees from espresso machines.

one breakfast tea. splash of milk. half sugar.

flip rolls the order in his mind like a mantra, like he’ll forget if he doesn’t stay diligent.

one breakfast tea. splash of milk. half su––

the door repeats its chorus. he gulps. but he can’t help the nervous tick-tick-tick in his chest as the dog and its owner move closer. he can’t be rude. shan’t be. but flip’s feet teeter him to the side anyway, leaving a safe buffer between himself and the furred fiend.

the line edges forward. his counterpart speaks. flip’s cheeks flash rouge –– he’s been impolite after all.

“ o-oh, no, i–– ” 

oh, dear.

flip turns to face the pair, offering the dog a nervous glance. a strained smile. “ i’m terrible sorry, i didn’t mean to –– ”  his fingertips retain today’s characteristic tremble. flip clasps them behind his back, to hide it.

“ he’s lovely, i’m sure. ”  in a sea of adoring expressions, his fear looks wildly out of place. 

“ what’s this big bloke’s name, then ? ”

oh, dear, indeed.

lia: honored--it's I who should be honored for such a refined palate tasting my baked goods

lia: whenever you have a free moment--and i'm happy to grab it as well, no need to burden yourself! though you know i love company in the kitchen

flip: i've got a free moment after this luncheon wraps!

em: flip

em: 911, i need help

em: my macarons keep coming out looking like hockey pucks

em: it's a DISASTER

flip: oh dear :(

flip: what ratios are you using?

lia: ah, merci beaucoup mon ami--tu es trop gentil

lia: oh but i can't just steal flour from you, flip! i'm already a disgrace for not having some on hand and now a theif as well? that simply won't do. no no. instead you'll just *have* to try my new macaroon recipe and tell me what you think.

lia: almond, perhaps? not a worry if not though! i dont mean to bother!

flip: mais bien sûr, mon amie

flip: who am i to deny a taste test? i'm honoured

lia: monsieur flip!

lia: i have a question that feels almost sacrilegious to ask you but I might have miscalculated my rations for once in my life

lia: but do you happen to have a...cup or two of flour I can borrow?

lia: i promise to pay you back!

flip: mademoiselle lia! or shall i say: madame whetstone!

flip: i've got leagues of flours. many a cup, no payments needed :)

flip’s halloween costume: james dean, rebel without a cause.

it’s a bold choice. quite daring, really, taking on a... tough persona with a soul so soft around its edges. with hair slicked back and a fake cigarette tucked behind his ear, flip looks akin to the real deal.

only the gentle are ever really strong.

a halloween rebel, with a not-spooky cause.

shay:: I don’t like them either, I’m not a big fan of sweets in general though.  shay: you were close! you did admit a truth to me, but I didn’t ask a question shay: so if I asked you who your crushes were at the moment you would say your answer and then it’s back and fourth between the two of us

Snap ->

shay:: hey i’m bored shay: do you want to play truth(s) for a little while? shay: aim of the game is to answer anything I ask you truthfully, and you can ask me anything you like back…can be personal, or whatever. Information stays between the two of us. You down?

Finn isn’t sure he’s stopped smiling the entire time the two have been together, yet still his smile grows as he walks beside the other male. He takes another sip of his cooling coffee, trying but failing to hide the smile on his face.

Eyebrows raise as Flip talks about the different types of icing, a happy surprised expression on Finn’s face. He chuckles a little as Flip shyly laughs, biting his lip gently. 

Finn nods, looking away with a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I’d like that. You can teach me all about the different types of icings and what for and when they’re used.” Finn says, smiling over at Flip. 

“Do you have a favorite book?” He asks, surprising even himself with the question. He wants to know more about Flip’s favorites and Finn feels like a person’s favorite book can say a lot about them. 

flip wonders if finn knows just how much warmth ebbs from his smile. his laugh. it coils around his chest and squeezes, as though it’s possible to not be entirely alone within one’s own skin. it’s... wonderful. unexpected. two words to accurately describe the man whose steps fall in line beside his.

he’d like that. flip would, too. he’s already thinking of the ingredients he’ll need to gather, the music he’ll queue –– for the experience, of course. no tasting should go without some sensory enhancements. ( he’s not blushing about inviting finn into his own kitchen, walking him through his world. he’s not. he’s not. )

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

name: brier mackenzie bell-barnes ( goes by mac or bri, depending )

gender: male

general appearance: dark hair. big, light eyes. soft features. his resting expression is closest to a smile.

personality: it’s like someone took the softest bits of flip and lia and smushed them into a human. brier is kind. he starts volunteering young. unfortunately, he’s a disaster in the kitchen –– but what he lacks in culinary tact, he makes up for with charisma. he’s got an affinity for hearing stories; he never believed in his parents’ warnings not to talk to strangers.

special talents: can juggle a soccer ball 82 times in a row ( a school record ). blows the best gum bubbles. has a knack for guessing the time.

who they like better: his mom. she’s easier to talk to. his dad tends to ask more questions than answer them.

who they take after more: i’d say it’s a 50-50 mix. magnolia’s sunshine. flip’s heart. he certainly looks like flip, with his dark hair and pale skin, but he has his mother’s eyes. father’s smile.

personal head canon: when he was 6, he nearly burned down the kitchen trying to cook his parents an anniversary dinner. he all but rendered the chicken to ash, and the carrots and potatoes turned to mush. but flip and lia ate a few bites anyway ( and washed them down with ample wine ). they have ‘ book night ’ every sunday. all three of them sit in the living room and read their respective text, then enjoy a tea and chat through what they’re liking about it. what could be done better. their favorite quote of the night. brier had trouble learning how to read as a small child, so hearing him talk passionately about poe and other major authors makes flip one of the proudest men alive. a transcript of their conversations would sound a lot more like a college lit class than a parent-son reading night. intelligence runs high in the bell-barnes household.

bonfires. flip won’t say so, but they might as well be his walking nightmare. 

mm. not much, if i’m honest ! i like drumming up new ones. 

elements of things i’ve felt or said might bleed in, but that’s purely by osmosis. every so often i’ll pull concrete inspiration from something i’ve experienced, but my mind tends to whip those around in a food processor and toss them –– confetti breadcrumbs, to the wind !