fateandfortune | The Sweet Gestures Meme

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The Sweet Gestures Meme

the sweet gestures meme

Everyone loves sweet gestures—little things that remind someone that you love them, that you think of them, that you care for their general, and other things. A gesture could be made towards a friend, a family member, or some other loved one. Maybe towards a total stranger you think deserves something to make them smile.

prompts

1. LOVE NOTES ❤ Everyone loves love notes, and they don’t even have to be romantic. It could be simple as ‘have a good day at work’ or even something funny to brighten someone’s day.

2. BREAKFAST IN BED ❤ Especially on a Sunday morning or after a long, late shift at work, breakfast in bed with their favorite foods is surely the way to start the day off right.

3. PHONE CALL ❤ Who doesn’t like a phone call from someone they love, for no reason? A nice conversation can be all someone needs to have a better day or make a good day be a great one.

4. SWEET TREAT ❤ Late at night when you’re both tired from work or just general day-to-day things, something sweet from the local bakery can be just the thing you need.

5. MASSAGE ❤ While a wonderful idea, swapping massages can be a good idea too, or doing it after a nice bubble bath you made for them, or just randomly.

6. RANDOM HUG ❤ Even if they are not having a bad day, how could a hug not bring a smile to someone’s face?

7. SMALL GIFT ❤ It could be a piece of jewelry that caught your eye and reminded you of them, a stuffed animal you won at the carnival… just something small and sweet that you are sure they are going to love no matter how cheap or expensive it is.

8. FLOWERS ❤ From a florist or from a random patch of green, the surprise of flowers for someone you know and/or love is always welcomed! Look into their meanings to make the bouquet, big or small, become extra special.

9. RENT A MOVIE ❤ Sure, you might not like the genre of the movie, but if the other person does, then that is all that matters.

10. SLOW DANCE ❤ Middle of the living room, randomly while on a date, or maybe that is the whole purpose of the date. Slow dances are so underrated.

11. SURPRISE GETAWAY ❤ Yes, that is just what you guys need: a vacation from things, even if it’s just for a day or two and is not half way across the world. From a family vacation to a romantic spur of the moment, everyone loves going to a new place.

12. SURPRISE KISS ❤ Who doesn’t like a surprise kiss? A soft one on the cheek, a kiss being the thing to wake you up in the morning, or a big one right when you walk through the door.

13. HOLD HANDS ❤ There is nothing like holding hands. It’s a simple and intimate gesture, and if you do it the right way, it could have a whole different meaning.

14. COOK DINNER ❤ Come on, give it a go. Who cares if you’re not the best cook in the world or possibly the worst? It’s the thought that counts.

15. WILD CARD ❤ Was there something missed? Did you have another scene in mind? Want to roll again?

POSTED BY luuupin @ allmymemes

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve smiled as she steered him inside her apartment, looking around with open interest as she moved around the small space. He'd lived in places like this his whole life, so it didn't feel that small to him; it did make him notice how much bigger he was from back then, though.

The window and the yellow accents made it feel more open and happy; it suited her perfectly, he thought. He noted the framed photos, and remembered her mentioning visiting her husband's family in New Orleans. Some men, he thought, might be jealous that she still had that sort of thing up. He'd never make her get rid of them, though, or even want her to, unless she wanted to. They were a part of her past, that had helped shape her, and that was reason enough to like them.

"I like the yellow," he told her, coming to stand just outside the kitchen, so as not to get in her way, but still be able to watch her. He could watch her move for hours and never grow tired of it. Especially in her own space, where she was confident and at ease, sure of where everything was, and just how much reach she needed to get something. "And the prints. They're beautiful."

If Rogue had the money, she would live in an apartment with floor to ceiling windows, and she would always leave them open for the sun and stars to shine through. For three years, she didn't once see the sky, and that experience had taken its toll on her. She avoided being in places that felt enclosed or didn't have windows, because she'd found out the hard way that such things tended to cause panic attacks for her now.

"Thanks, sugar," she said to him over her shoulder as she trimmed the ends of the flowers with a pair of scissors to fit the vase she'd pulled out from under the sink. Everything was kept the same proportionate height so she didn't mess up his arrangement. Tossing the trimmed off stems into the small trash can beside the faded avocado green fridge, she picked up the filled vase and turned to face him.

"New Orleans feels like the only home I have left," she explained with only a flicker of sadness in her voice. "When I think of going back to somewhere I felt safe and accepted, it's what comes to mind. I lived in the school where I taught for almost a decade, but during the war, they..." She looked down at the beautiful flowers in her hands, reminding herself that she wasn't back there anymore. "That's where they put the lab, in the place that was my home. So even though I only stayed in New Orleans for a few months, it's all I have left."

Taking a deep breath, she looked back up at Steve with a small, fond smile. "This city's starting to suddenly seem like home too, though," she continued. "I wonder why that is." It was because of him, of course. Steve Rogers, the man out of time who had stolen her heart.

Steve listened to her talk about the places she'd considered home, and how one of them had been taken from her. He didn't know what to say -- knew there was nothing to say, that could comfort her over that. She couldn't even recall the school without being reminded of what had happened after, and his heart ached for her. For all that he had a hard time going to once-familiar places and recalling long-lost days, at least they'd always been happy memories of that place, no matter what had come after. Saying 'I'm sorry' felt more than inadequate.

And then she came out with something like that, and Steve couldn't stop the fond smile spreading over his face, love, and more importantly affection, being evident in his gaze. "I hope so. It would be a much dimmer place without you."

He took a deep breath; no. No, no, none of this moping, and that meant for either of them. On any other day, he would let each of them go through whatever emotions they needed to. But today... Today, he wanted to be happy, to make new happy memories, and he wanted the same for Rogue. "So. I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. I'm pretty much always hungry, but still. I was told there would be a picnic with a gorgeous gal. I see the gal. All we need now is the basket." At this point, he wouldn't put it past her to pull out an honest-to-goodness wicker basket for their vintage outing.

She supposed, in the end, it wasn't really the city that was starting to feel like home - it was him. He was very quickly becoming her safe port of harbor, the place she could come back to and always feel safe and wanted. It just so happened that the 'place' would be wherever he was. She would travel to the ends of the earth to be with him if that's what it took, and she wouldn't hesitate for a second.

He was the only person who could make her laugh so easily. Rogue grinned at Steve and chuckled, moving past him to set the vase of flowers on the low coffee table in front of the couch. They brightened up the room even more, adding a beautiful touch that she would greatly enjoy.

"Well, I did try to find a basket," she said as she turned back to him and gestured to the cooler waiting on the corner table, "but unfortunately baskets are so old-fashioned that they're damned expensive now. But I'm pretty sure I made enough food to tide you over until later, so let's get a move on, handsome." There may not be a vintage basket to hold their food, but she had found one of those red checkered blankets. Hopefully that would suffice.

Looking at the flowers on her table filled him with something he couldn't easily define. Warmth and happiness, and something almost possessive - not dark, but rumbling and primitive. Now, at least for a few days until they withered, she had something that would remind her of him every time she looked. And then, he'd just have to buy her more.

He turned to look where she gestured-- and had no idea how to react. He raised his eyebrows and just stared for a second, before making a face. "They really make those? I--" he burst out laughing. "I can't decide if I love it, or if it's hideous." He stepped over and picked up the cooler, letting it hang from the strap over his hand, spinning a little so he could see the different sides. "It is rather apropos, isn't it?" He slipped the strap up onto his shoulder.

It honestly didn't matter if they stored the food in a basket, a plastic cooler, or a cardboard box. This was all about the company, and he knew Rogue understood that. He moved forward and offered his arm to her. "Yes, ma'am. Lead the way."

Rogue wouldn't say no to more flowers, or to Steve's brand of possessiveness. He already possessed her heart, she had no problem with him taking up residence in her thoughts as well. She was already thinking up ways that she could make a mark on his apartment, just to make sure he didn't forget about her when they weren't together.

His laughter had her grinning and she just shrugged at his question. It wasn't the classiest thing, but it would keep the food cold and it was extremely fitting for the entire occasion. She simply hadn't been able to resist it.

Taking his arm, she steered them out of the apartment, sparing a moment to lock the door behind them before heading down the stairs. The steps were a bit narrow, but she'd take any and every excuse to be close to him, so they managed. "Do you have any ideas of where we can have this picnic of ours?" she asked him with a smile as they reached the street.

As they exited the building onto the sidewalk, Steve nodded to where he'd parked his bike a ways down. It wasn't a bustling street, by New York standards, but there was still plenty of foot traffic, due to the holiday and gorgeous weather. Steve kept one hand against the side of the cooler, to keep it out of the way and stop it from bouncing as he walked, and his other arm drawn in to his side, so Rogue was fit snug against him.

"I figured we could go to Brooklyn Bridge Park. It shouldn't be too badly crowded yet. And it's not far from my apartment, we can get back there quick if we want to watch the show from there, away from the crowds." They'd made plans to watch from his roof, anyway, but he wasn't going to leave the possibility open that they'd be comfortable with their spot and just want to stay there for a while.

Rogue loved living in Chinatown because there was always something going on. Neighborhood celebrations, personal triumphs that were shared with everyone. She liked the people, especially her landlady who owned the tea shop downstairs - normally Mrs. Chen didn't like outsiders and would never have rented to someone who wasn't Chinese, but Rogue had always been pretty good at charming people. She'd even started helping out in the shop every so often, learning how to make tea properly, according to tiny Mrs. Chen.

"That sounds great," she announced with a squeeze to his arm. "I'm so excited to spend today with you. And to see your apartment later - I hope it's a bit bigger than mine, you barely fit in there," she teased him with a giggle, though he could live in a shoebox and she wouldn't care.

The day was really beautiful, just perfect for a picnic. It could have been overcast or rainy, but this year they were lucky enough to have blue skies and a nice breeze that would be better felt in the park.

Mention of seeing his apartment later made Steve blush. He tried not to think about having her come in, all the kisses from yesterday and the unspoken agreement they'd come to about what would most likely happen tonight. He did not have a one-track mind, he wasn't one of those fellas who was only looking for ways to have sex. On the other hand... This was kinda a big deal for him. Nothing was set in stone, but if Rogue still wanted to stay the night, he was more than alright with that.

"It's...bigger, yeah." Steve grimaced. "SHIELD - the agency that found me, that created the Avengers - they set it up for me. I'm renting it, but I'm pretty sure Fury finagled a great discount. Even with severance and back-pay, on top of my Avengers salary, there's no way I could afford Brooklyn Heights nowadays." Actually, thinking on it with what he knew now, he wondered if it had been Fury, or Coulson who had chosen the location, and made it possible for him to stay there. From what he understood, Agent Coulson had been the go-to man for Captain America trivia; he would have known where Steve had grown up, would have tried to give him some sort of familiarity to start his new life with.

Thinking on it some more, Steve was pretty sure Coulson had had some hand in it. "It's got a spare room, even. South-facing windows, it's got amazing natural light." It hadn't been set up as a bedroom, though, when he'd been moved in; rather a den or office, with a desk situated right in front of the windows, and bookshelves along the walls. They were filled now with novels, old and new, and textbooks on art and history, as well as sketchbooks, filled with pictures, and blank ones waiting their turn; art supplies lined the shelves, too, as well as littering the available surfaces of the desk and side table beside it.

She saw that blush, and she had a pretty good idea of what had caused it. Their unspoken plans for later were, of course, in her mind as well. She knew that this was important to Steve, on a personal level as well as for them, and it was important for her too. None of this was new to her, but it sure felt like it was. He would be the first man to really be with her, but in order for that to happen, he would have to see her scars. Part of her was genuinely worried about that, particularly on them casting a shadow over their time together.

But they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"I'm glad they did that for you," she told him with a smile. "Finding my way alone in this world was hard, but I've at least lived with most of this; technology, social conventions, history. I honestly can't imagine how difficult all of this has been for you, so I'm grateful for any small thing that's helped you." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "And it sounds absolutely lovely."

Steve shrugged; it had been nice of them, but he'd never figured Fury for the altruistic type, and events during the Battle had only added to his skepticism of the generosity. "I think he felt bad after he saw how I reacted to being told what year it was." As well as the whole phony hospital cock-up he'd awoken to. Even Fury wasn't completely immune to Captain America's reputation, it seemed; so long as it didn't interfere with his schemes, he could afford to be generous.

But Fury was absolutely the last thing he wanted to think about right now, as well as those first few days where he'd been in shock over the entire situation. And Rogue gave him a perfect opening. "Speaking of lovely," he quirked a smile at her, "I didn't get around to saying before, but you look--stunning. I really like your dress."

They reached his bike, and Steve stashed the cooler against his artist portfolio, which held both his shield and a sketchbook this time. He didn't want to get lost in his head drawing when he was with her... but he'd had the vague thought that, if she was alright with it, he could sketch her today, relaxed, maybe laying down or sitting resting on her arms on the blanket. Now he wished he'd brought a small pack of colored pencils, to capture the vibrancy of her dress, the rich brown of her hair and eyes.

Once Rogue knew more about Steve's situation and the people he worked for, she'd be pretty skeptical herself. But today wasn't the time for that, they both knew it.

His compliment made her smile in pleased embarrassment. Stunning. That was a nice thing to hear. "I was hoping you would," she admitted, feeling like a high school girl out for her first date. "I wanted to look nice for you on your birthday. I was worried it might be too much, though." If he liked the look, she'd gladly invest in more outfits like it, classic meeting modern. She'd never been much of one for shopping, clothing had always seemed a bit like a prison for her, but if he looked at her like he had before...

I wanted to look nice for you on your birthday. Steve ducked his head, unable to hide his pleased smile. He shook his head, grabbing the helmet as an excuse for looking away. "No, not-- definitely not too much."

He did think of Peggy, then; of back to when the two of them had been tentatively feeling out the thing between them; of the red dress she'd worn that had made the entire pub fall silent when she walked in. It ached, some, remembering that, but in a bittersweet way that all reminiscences on the past should.

He was letting her go, Steve realized - and that did hurt, a little, but he knew he'd always love her, the person in his memories, as well as the woman she was now. But... that part of his life was over; more than that, he was starting a new life, and he couldn't continue to cling to the past and let it affect his every moment.

Handing her the helmet, he said, "Every fella who sees you is gonna be jealous that I'm the lucky guy you're with."

Steve wasn't the only one thinking on lost loves. Rogue had a moment of remembering all the nights she'd gotten dressed up to go out with Remy, for things like dinner and dancing, concerts or the theater. He'd loved taking her out and showing her off, claiming that she would have the eye of every man and the envy of ever woman they passed. Those comments had always been brushed off with a shove at his shoulder or an eye roll in exasperation, but it had all truly done wonders for her self-esteem, which was what he'd been aiming for.

"And all the ladies are gonna be drooling at the sight of you, handsome," she informed him with a smirk, taking the helmet and settling it into place. "You already turn heads when you walk down the street, but in this sunlight - you're absolutely gorgeous. I could look at that smile all day long." And she hoped she got the chance to do so.

Steve could be objective about his appearance: he knew he was attractive, now, even if he forgot most of the time, because he was still just him. But he did know. He also knew that before Project Rebirth, he had been too scrawny, all skin and bones and sharp angles and no muscle, to be attractive. Bucky had always tried to convince him he was a catch, but they were best friends, and even Bucky had talked more about his personality than his appearance; they both knew no gal would be instantly attracted to his looks.

It was always a mixed feeling for him when someone complimented him; he appreciated it, because it was always nice to hear, but he'd done nothing for his looks, didn't even have to do anything to maintain his muscles. He ran and worked out because he had extra energy to burn, and just because he could, now, but he didn't have to.

Still, when Rogue complimented him, he knew she was seeing more than just his outward appearance, and mentioning his smile helped, too.

"Come on, flatterer," he said, swinging onto the bike and waiting for her to follow. He could've left the bike at home, taken a taxi to pick her up and get to the park -- but he knew she liked the bike, and he had a not-so-secret love of feeling her holding onto him, and moving with him into the turns.

Rogue had plans to tell Steve all about the parts of him that she loved most. She loved his smile, the way it lit up his entire face and the space around him. She could drown in the blue of his eyes and the rich sound of his laugh. Those were things that hadn't changed when the rest of him had, and she wished she could have known him before all of this. She cursed the women who had hurt him with their rejections in the past, and she would do everything she could to make sure Steve knew she wasn't with him just for those good looks of his.

She giggled again and climbed into place behind him, not hesitating in the slightest to press her body against his and wrap her arms around him. It was for safety, of course, but she also loved the feel of being so close to him. The thrill of being on the bike combined with the elation of being wrapped around him - she wouldn't give it up for the world.

"Let's go, Speed Racer," she teased him, realizing afterward she'd likely have to explain that reference to him, unless he'd caught a rerun of the cartoon somewhere. There were a great many things she could help him learn about this world, and she was looking forward to it.

Steve recognized her comment as a reference, but not what it actually was. Unlike some other people, though, he knew she didn't toss out references for the sole purpose of confusing him; probably didn't even realize she'd done it. People who hadn't skipped 70 years often confused how old something 'old' really was. He still needed to learn so much, wanted to learn more, and he'd be glad to let her help him. He wanted that, but he wouldn't ask for it; he didn't want to bore her, or put a spotlight on the already-obvious fact that he was out of his depth at the moment.

The traffic was as bad today in the boroughs as it had been in the heart of Manhattan yesterday, thanks to almost everyone having off, and traveling somewhere to celebrate the holiday. Steve kept with the flow of traffic, for the most part (which almost never matched the actual speed limit), because they had a longer way to go this time, and he wanted to get them both there safely. He had the reflexes to avoid collisions, or jump off the bike if necessary to avoid serious injury, but he wasn't going to take any chance with Rogue, and frankly, he didn't trust 'Sunday drivers'.

Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, seeing the water and the city spanning before them, Steve felt a surprising sense of homecoming. This was his small piece of the world, and bringing Rogue into it felt like the most natural thing, the right thing, to do.

It took them a while to reach the park, but at the same time seemed to happen all too soon; Steve found a spot to park the bike, and couldn't quash the small flare of disappointment at not having Rogue pressed against him anymore. It was comforting, in a way he wouldn't be able to easily explain to anyone else. It wasn't sexual, but it wasn't exactly platonic, either. It was intimate, and knowing that she trusted him made it even more-so.

But they had all day to be together, and he was looking forward to that, too, so Steve killed the engine, knocked the kickstand down, and waited for her to dismount.

It wouldn't be at all boring for Rogue to give Steve a crash course in the past seventy years. She would honestly enjoy getting to share those things with him, the ones that were her favorites and those that were necessary for him to understand the most common references. Movies, books, music, events - all of it.

She appreciated the care Steve took while they drove, and never once was she nervous despite the heavy traffic. With her arms around him, she felt perfectly safe, and she knew he wouldn't do anything that would get her hurt. Trusting him was as easy as breathing.

Before she dismounted, she tugged at the helmet and held it in one hand as she leaned in to press a kiss to the back of his neck. Then she was off the bike, trailing her free hand along his shoulder until she was steady. "I love riding with you," she told him with a smile.

Steve closed his eyes and smiled as he felt Rogue's lips press against his neck. And that hand on his shoulder, made him think she wasn't quite ready to stop touching him, either.

They'd have all day for small touches - and, if yesterday was anything to judge by, some not-so-small ones, too.

He turned and smiled, lovesick and exceedingly sappy, he was sure. "Yeah, I love it, too." He reached for the helmet, stepping forward as he tugged on it, then kissing her, soft and sweet, on the lips. He could just stand here and kiss her all day.

His stomach had other ideas, though, and started grumbling. Loudly. Steve groaned, letting his head fall back, before stashing the helmet, and grabbing the cooler and his portfolio.

She could stand there and kiss him all day too. It hadn't even been a week since they'd met, and she was completely, hopelessly in love with him. If it hadn't been his birthday, a day of traditions that meant a great deal to him, she would have been perfectly happy to just sit on a couch with him all day, fireworks be damned. But this was a day to make new, happy memories for the both of them, and so that's what they were going to do.

When she heard his stomach grumble, she grinned while he groaned. He'd said he was always hungry - well, she'd have to see about that. "Let's go claim our spot so we can get you fed," she teased him. "There's plenty of time for kissing later." In the sun, on his roof, in his bed... Plenty of time.

Sitting on the couch with her sounded wonderful, but it wasn't something Steve considered a date. He had very clear ideas of what to do on dates, and he was determined to actually court Rogue. Even though they'd already decided they wanted to be together, some traditions he just couldn't let go of, not entirely, and this was one of them. Dating was a way to prove yourself to your partner, and that's what he planned on doing.

If Steve knew all the locations in which Rogue was contemplating kissing him, he would have turned bright red. His cheeks still heated up a little, picking up the undercurrent in her words, but he decided to blame it on the sun and his Irish skintone. He smiled at her words, though; Plenty of time for kissing later. "That's what I'm planning on," he couldn't help but reply, sending her a cheeky smile. He reached out for her hand, heading toward the grassy area of the park, that already had several other people with the same idea, sitting and laying about on blankets, with baskets beside them.

Holding his hand was one of the best feelings in the world. Just that simple touch made her smile, made her feel light as air with no worries in sight. If she was holding his hand, she could conquer anything. But first things first, they had to find the perfect spot to sit.

Rogue glanced around as they approached that grassy area, then tugged Steve forward when she'd seen it. There weren't too many people nearby, close enough to feel like they weren't pariahs but far enough away that they could talk without being easily overheard. The patch of grass was green and just waiting to be covered with their blanket.

"It's been ages since I was on a picnic," she confided, still smiling like a smitten schoolgirl, only letting go of his hand when they reached their spot, and only to take the cooler from him. She made short work of unzipping it and removing the thin red and white checkered blanket, unfolding it partway and then holding out an end to Steve to help her lay it down.

Steve just watched her for a moment, her quick, efficient movements getting the cooler open and the blanket ready. Taking the proffered side, he pulled it out and watched as it puffed up as they set it down and let it settle on the grass. "I haven't been on one since I was a kid," he responded. "Usually on holidays like this, or Decoration Day, Labor Day, things like that. We'd bring a blanket to the park, where a bandstand had been set up. Everyone would bring food, so it was sort of a potluck, and we'd sit around listening to the bands play."

Settling on the blanket, Steve took off his jacket, revealing a sky blue short sleeved shirt that had only been hinted at before. He'd foregone a tie (although he'd seriously debated about wearing one), and now he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, letting it hang loose and show the neck of his white undershirt beneath. Glancing up at the sky, he commented, "Not sure how long we'll want to stay out in this weather, though. I may be the perfect human specimen, but I don't know exactly what that means in terms of sunburns." Or freckles. He'd avoided looking like a Rorschach test when he was younger, just by virtue of always being sick and not being out in the sun too much.

[*Decoration Day - originally to commemorate soldiers who died during the Civil War, and then all soldiers who died in combat; after WWII it became called Memorial Day, and was instituted as a national holiday in 1967.]

Decoration Day. Now he was the one stumping her, mentioning a holiday that she was certain she'd never heard of it before. It was only through an explanation offered by the Erik in her head that she realized it was the older incarnation of Memorial Day - Erik and Charles both remembered when the day had been renamed and classified as a national holiday.

She'd knelt on the blanket and had been busy pulling out the plastic containers of food and removing the lids when he took off his jacket and made her heart skip a beat. It was the blue of his shirt - it made the color of his eyes so bright, and it worked wonderfully with his blonde hair. He was the one who was stunning in that moment, not her. She had to blink heavily a few times to snap herself out of it or she might very well have stared at him for hours without looking away.

One fairly large container was filled with an assortment of triangle-halved sandwiches, including chicken salad, turkey, and ham. Another held cold fried chicken, which was still cool enough to taste exceptionally good in the heat of the day. Smaller containers held potato salad, green grapes, and slices of watermelon. A final large container was set aside, still covered, to warm up a little in the sun.

She set out a small stack of blue napkins and paper plates, and a small collection of white plastic utensils. It wasn't the fanciest picnic, but she hoped it would do. "I forgot to ask yesterday if there was anything in particular that you wanted for today, or that you didn't like, so I hope this is okay," she said with a bit of worry in her voice and expression. It was that sealed container that she was most looking forward to sharing with him, but they were adults and they could wait for dessert. Probably.

It had only been a couple months after he'd woken up that Steve had started hearing people talk about 'Memorial Day', and it had confused him; not so much the name, but that people were talking about 'Memorial Day weekend', when he knew that the 30th was on a Wednesday. He'd finally looked it up online, and learned that in the 60s, several holidays' dates had been changed from specific dates, to specific Mondays, so people could have long weekends. Seeing as how people were still decorating graves and commemorating officers, the change didn't really bother Steve too much, and he thought it was nice that people had a longer amount of time to spend with their families on that holiday.

Steve started smiling as he saw the food she was pulling out, and laughed a little at the question, shaking his head. "No, nothing in particular, really. I'm a pretty adventurous eater, honestly. I had so many allergies, plus diabetes, when I was a kid, I always had to pay attention to all the ingredients in things, stay away from a lot of stuff. After the serum, I didn't get a big chance to try different foods, but we did tour the country, so I got to try things at local diners along the way." He shrugged. "Foods are different now, though, so I'm kinda starting over again. But this all looks great," he added with a sincere smile.

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here, have an introspective novel.

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