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tojisteddy · 2 months ago

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Ruthless

or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.

cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader

a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot

part 2!!! <3

You were running like your life depended on it.

It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.

You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.

It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.

Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.

Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.

The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.

They called him Ghost.

There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.

No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.

You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.

Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.

They’d do it again.

But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.

Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.

No fucking way.

Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.

You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.

Well duh, babe. Move those feet!

And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.

Oh you were definitely in for it now.

You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.

Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”

Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.

Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.

“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”

Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.

And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.

He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,

“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.

“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.

“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.

You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”

He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.

It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.

What other option did you have?

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.

“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.

You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.

Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.

“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.

“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”

With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.

“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.

“Spray painting my fences,” SMACK!

“Tryin to egg my house,” SMACK!

“‘Nd Ruinin my fuckin crops?!” SMACK!

“You’ve lost,” SMACK! “you’re damn,” SMACK! “mind! little girl!” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.

And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.

Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.

Oh— you're crazy.

You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.

He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.

“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.

But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”

You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.

You whine, “Mr. Riley-“

“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”

Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.

He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.

“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”

And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.

“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.

You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.

“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.

He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”

“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.

“I do.”

And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.

He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”

He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”

“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”

“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.

A baby.

You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.

“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.

“Wha-“

“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”

He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.

Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.

“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”

You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.

“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.

“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.

So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.

“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.

“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”

God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“

“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”

All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.

The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.

Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”

It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,

Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.

“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.

“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”

a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon

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sayorinumberone · 2 months ago

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SBG ⋆ blind, deaf and mute challenge

cw: none, (minor spelling mistake)

a/n: please give me the most gut wrenching angsty depressing request for Sbg I crave it

“Okay okay do you have the camera set up Taylor !?” You asked hopping up and down with your hands on the counter in a attempt to see if the camera recording.

Taylor gives you a thumbs up “yeah I got it !” She smiles handing you the headphones and ashlyn the duct tape even though that would probably make zero difference if she actually had duct tape on her mouth.

You giggle to yourself before setting the headphones on your head to nose canceling through your phone humming along to the song you picked not a single sound could break through the music.

“ HAVE WE STARTED ???” You scream out Ashlyn covers her ears for a second before nodding, she preheats the oven or at least that’s what it looks like.

Taylor has both her hands out in front of her and is trying to feel her way to the bowl you being the nicest person in the world leads her hands over to the bowl, she grabs it and you giggle as she drops it to the floor.

you go to pick up the bowl and place it in front of you both Ashlyn come over to grab two pans from the drawers and goes to the counter with the sink you have zero clue what’s she doing because you had to help Taylor grab the correct ingredient.

it took a lot of work to get the dry ingredients together with Ashlyn doing the most work.

“YOU HAVE THE SUGER, THIS WHOLE TIME ???HAND IT OVER PLEASE” you asked Taylor

you can see her mouth moving unable to tell what she says but she follows through sloppily handing you the sugar you measure it and pour it in.

Ashlyn takes the bowl from you guys to stir it together and you can see Taylor move her hands around the table trying to find something amount the mess of flour, salt and baking soda.

she grabs hold of a egg but that cause a 2nd egg to roll down to the floor near your foot.

“YOU KNOCKED OVER A EGG TAYLOR DONT MOVE ILL CLEAN IT” you screech out rushing to the sink and grabbing paper towel, wetting it you turn back around and see Taylor mouth doing a laughing movement.

confused you clean the mess and place the dirty cloth in the trash, lucky the two had got the eggs in the bowl with no farther incident.

you add the milk, oil and vanilla in giving the bowl to Taylor much to Ashlyn flat look as you giggle quietly

you can see her struggling to get the spoon to mix when it’s goes flying into her face, you burst into laughter hollowed over grabbing your stomach.

Ashlyn seems to be smirking too from the way the duck tape moved on her mouth it seemed like she found it funny.

you did the rest of the mix as Ashlyn help cleaned Taylor’s face.

You let out a heavy sigh pouring the mix into the pans and grabbing the oven mitts to place it in the oven.

as the cake baked you all started on the icing, Taylor was assigned to mixed as you and Ashlyn both agreed none verbally that giving a blind person a knife was stupid.

cutting the butter you drop it into the bowl with the vanilla and icing sugar Ashlyn pours the milk into it but she accidentally drops the milk carton causing the powder to fly in all your faces.

“WHAT THE FART ITS IN MY EYE” you scream blinking your eye over and over again, Ashlyn grabs your hand and pull you towards the sink splashing water into your eye.

you make a sour face as she wipes the icing sugar off your cheeks after.

mixing the icing with the mini mixer cause you did not want to spend 5 hours mixing it by hand with a spoon or whisk.

Ashlyn removes the cake from the oven letting it cool well Taylor give the already mixed cream a quick stir and too scrap extra off the sides she also licks the spoon to your disappointment.

Ashlyn sets a timer for the cake to cool and you show off your singing to the song you where listening to ( it sucked but they clapped anyway ) Taylor did a backflip which ended horrible as well.

Ashlyn pinch’s her nose as you and Taylor giggle walking back over to the kitchen.

The cake crumbed a tad as you placed it on the plate and Taylor tried to ice the first layer but somehow it kept together however you couldn’t say that for the second half because Taylor knocked it over with her ass.

you mourn the cake as Ashlyn cleans it off the floor.

At least you had extra icing now.

you put a bunch of icing on the top and do that thing where baker smooth it over and top it off with sprinkles on it.

the cake was done and it looked surprisingly good !

you remove your headphones and smile to yourself “ wow it looks so great !” Taylor says letting out a breath she seemed to have been holding.

“you guys are horrible bakers.” Ashlyn says snorting.

“ that’s not true, look at that we’re so good !” you cross your arms smirking “ can we eat it now please ” you say uncrossing your arms and doing a little hop.

“Yeah let’s eat !” Taylor says grabbing plates and forks from the drawers.

you didn’t care how ugly the cake was because all that mattered was it was in your stomach as Taylor cuts a slice and puts it on your plate you grin.

Sitting down at the table you wait for the other girls to join once they sit down you all take a peace with your fork and count down from three.

“1”

“2”

“3”

you all take a bite in unsion.

“ITS DELICIOUS !!” You chant out shoving more into your mouth “You don’t need to shout anymore y/n.” Ashlyn says rubbing her ears you giggle before apologizing.

The three of you all sit on the couch together watching from Ashlyn laptop the footage.

“YOU KNOCKED OVER THE EG TAYLOR DONT MOOL ILL CLEAN IT” your voice over the recording shouts you giggle slightly seeing your horrible speech you have no clue if that’s normal or not.

“Mool what’s a mool y/n ?” Taylor voice teased from the video before breaking into laughter.

“delete that.” You say turning red.

Ashlyn thinks for a second “nah.” She says as you whine dramatically throwing your head into your hands.a

#sbg x reader #ashlyn banner #taylor hernandez

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beansmack2021 · 2 years ago

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Scrambled Eggs [Winchester!Sis!]

TW: Mentions of death, child abandonment/neglect, basically Sam completely abandons the reader after Dean's death (ignoring canon quite a bit, mb)

Dean didn't know where he was. He'd walked half a mile in every direction to see if he could find anything that'd give him a clue about his location, but there was nothing. He didn't have his phone on him, probably directly related to the fact that he had to claw his way up from underground. Unless some sick bastard decided to bury him alive (unfortunately more likely in his field of work than you think), then he'd died. He'd died and his younger siblings were left to bury him.

He probably would've been burned, but Y/N/N and Sammy were probably holding onto the fact that he'd come back before, so maybe he would this time, too. Y/N... he had no clue how long he'd been gone. She was only 15 when he'd apparently gone belly-up, she could be in her early twenties by now. He had no way of knowing until he saw her for himself.

He'd been wandering around for probably an hour or two, and he'd finally decided to just start yelling. "Cas!" Nothing. He cupped his hands around his mouth as if that'd make him louder. "Cas!" Still, absolutely nothing. 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵, 𝘊𝘢𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

As if that was all it took to summon the angel, a bright light appeared behind him and he turned to see Castiel, still clad in his brown trench-coat. "Dean." He seemed relieved, not hesitating to embrace him, even though Dean was covered in dirt and grime. Dean gave Cas a look that told him to give him nothing but the truth. "How long have I been gone?"

"Six months. It's October 14th, now." Dean nodded. He hadn't been gone too long. He briefly considered that he may or may not have missed his little sister's sixteenth birthday. "You wanna give me a lift home?" The angel grabbed his bicep and there was a flash of light before they were standing in the main entrance to the bunker.

"Y/N?" Cas called. "I'm in the kitchen! Dinner's almost done!" Dean quirked his brow, following the angel down the stairs. "Since when does she know how to cook?" Cas glanced at him, trying to steel his expression, but Dean could tell something was up when he'd said "a few months ago" and left it at that.

"Wait here," Cas said when they were just out of view from the stove, where Y/N was making... scrambled eggs? "Eggs again?" Though Cas was posing it as a question, it seemed like he knew the answer. There was an uncomfortable silence before he heard a soft "it's all we had."

All they had? Sam hadn't taken the kid grocery shopping? "Might need more milk soon. There isn't too much left in here." She shakes carton of milk, and Dean can hear that there isn't much sloshing around in it. She tried to smile, but he could see that it was just a facade. He knew her tells, he could read her dejection. He didn't understand. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘢𝘮?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a small thud and a whispered "Shit." He watched as Y/N grabbed some paper towels and dropped to her knees, sniffling as she started wiping up a puddle of milk. Before he knew what was happening, he was in front of her, taking the wad of wet paper towels from her hand. "Hey now, kiddo. No use crying over spilled milk." She stumbled back, startled, her eyes widening as she took in his face.

She stared at him, stunned, not saying anything for several heartbeats. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, and still said nothing. "It's me, baby. It's me. I'm here." Tears welled in her eyes as she dove at him, tightly wrapping her arms around his middle. They stayed like that for a minute, before Castiel said "Y/N, your eggs are done."

She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Oh, right." She stood up slowly, grabbing the pan and turning off the stovetop. She scraped some eggs onto one of the two plates she'd set out, looked back at Dean, smiled to herself and scraped some eggs onto the other plate. Cas sat to her left, and Dean moved to sit at the chair on the other side of the plate she'd set before she stopped him. "What are you doing over there? This one is for you."

Dean looked at Cas for a second, then back at his little sister. "Isn't that one for Sammy?" She shook her head, shoveling some of the food into her mouth. She ate as if she were starving, the fork barely passing her lips before it was scooping up some more egg. "She, uh, set a place for you every night." Castiel was still awkward, more than he can tend to be usually.

"For a while, it was just me and Cas. It's nice to have someone else who actually eats to sit with me. No offense, Cas." Dean dropped the fork he'd just picked up. He snaps his head between Cas and Y/N. "Just you and Cas? Alright. What the hell is going on? Where is Sam?"

Y/N swallowed, wiped her mouth and shrugged. Dean's eyes bored into Cas's skull as he waited for an answer. "He's tried to stay off-the-grid. He doesn't want to be found. He said he needed to get-" Dean cut him off. "Where is he, Cas?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was pissed. He didn't have his car (Sam took it with him), so Cas had to transport the three of them to the dingy apartment complex his brother was supposedly staying in. He saw Baby, got even angrier, and stormed into the building to find Sam. He banged on the door and felt Y/N's hand slip onto his own. He glanced at her, and could see that she was unsure about meeting Sam. That made him even angrier.

The door was yanked open and they were met with Sam rubbing his eyes and squinting. He immediately dropped his hand. "Dean?" Dean snapped, letting go of Y/N's hand and grabbing Sam's collar.

"What the hell, Sam? You just up and leave her the minute I'm gone? You take the car, leave her with basically nothing, and you come to this piss-shack? Did you know that she was running out of food? Probably not, you didn't bother to check on her yourself. All she had left were some God damn eggs. Cas doesn't have actual money, and she didn't have a car to go out and try to hustle whenever she was alone."

"I kept the bunker clean." She mumbled from next to him. "What was that, sweetie?" Dean turned away from screaming in Sam's face to give Y/N his full attention. "I kept the bunker clean. I know he doesn't like messes. I thought maybe he'd come back so I'd didn't want it to be messy." Dean let go of Sam's collar, and Sam rubbed his neck. "Y/N, listen-"

"No, you don't talk to her. Right now, you're talking to me. What if something got into the bunker? Something she couldn't take on alone?" Sam was sinking into himself, looking truly guilty for the first time since they'd gotten there. "You fucking left her. She was alone other than when Cas visited once every, what? Three days? I died, you bastard. I didn't get a choice in whether or not I'd leave her. You did, and you chose wrong. Fucking apologize."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just couldn't-" Dean grabbed his collar again. "Did I ask you to explain yourself to her? No. You'll be explaining to me, later. Let's try this again."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have left you. I'm sorry."

Y/N just stared forward for a minute. "I know."

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn #castiel #hintsatdestiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #winchester sister #sister reader

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deancaspinefest · 1 year ago

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Heartland Flyer

Author: one_more_offbeat_anthem | Artist: Susy Rose

Posting on Saturday April 6

Ever since he graduated from college and lost his parents, the world has been rushing by Dean Winchester faster than a high-speed train. He's tabled his dreams of being a published writer to edit others' work at a press in D.C., and although he keeps trying to finish his manuscript on the side, he's stuck in a perpetual loop of writer's block. And then there's the issue of his love life. For the same amount of time that he's been standing still, he's been in love with his roommate, Cas Milton. Cas works for Amtrak and spends his time traveling both D.C. and the country, and more often than not, his outlook on the future is more positive than Dean's. Despite the fact that they devote most of their time to each other, Dean knows the truth: one day, Cas will find the person he's truly meant to spend his life with, and he'll ride that train off into the proverbial sunset, leaving Dean behind. But what if the truth Dean thinks he knows is wrong, and a brighter future is out there, if he'll only grab hold of it?

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Cas comes home tonight.

Cas comes home /tonight/, and Dean can’t wait. They’ve talked every day, of course they have, but it’s not the same. The apartment feels too big and so empty, and Dean wishes Cas were here to rip open the junk mail and read it in a funny voice or posit, for the thousandth time, that they should get a cat.

(Dean is allergic. Cas claims the place is “one species short.”)

But maybe it’s better that Cas isn’t here, in a way. Usually, Dean is able to handle the way he feels, especially since he’s felt this way since the first night, like Cas would be important and was going to /mean/ something. But as the country has stretched between them, the feeling has started to press into his ribs, painfully, and every time Cas’s name shows up on his phone, he simultaneously scrambles to answer and resists.

He has to get up and go to work.

Dean pulls himself out of bed and stumbles toward the kitchen, where his coffee maker is waiting. He’s used to having breakfast with Cas, sitting on either side of the smooth oak kitchen table; Cas always makes a face at Dean’s mug and makes himself tea instead.

He turns on the coffeemaker (he had the foresight to prep the coffee beans and water the night before, something he always aims to do but doesn’t happen every day) and opens the fridge, inspecting its contents. Tomorrow, they’ll probably have to go to the grocery store; since it’s just been Dean, it’s a little bare. There are still some eggs left, though, so Dean grabs the carton and decides to fry a couple up. He locates a slightly brown banana and cuts it into slices to go on the side while he waits for the coffee to brew.

If Cas were there, they’d listen to the public radio station while they eat, on low volume so they could still talk. Cas says it’s important to stay updated on the news, and Dean doesn’t disagree, but it’s nice to not hear about how everything around the world is going to shit for once.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Saturday April 6)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: one_more_offbeat_anthem #artist: Plumee (Susy)#Friends to Lovers #And They Were Roommates #Gratuitous Use of Trains as a Plot Device

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rvllybllply2014 · 3 months ago

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Shipped to OH,TX,AZ,CA,CO,FL,IL,IA

Egg beaters original use by date Aug 10,2025

Egg beaters cage free use by date Aug 9,2025

Egg beaters frozen/ no enjauladas use by date Mar 7,2026

Bob Evan’s better’n eggs use by date Aug 10,2025

All cartons are marked with Establishment #G1804

#food recall #liquid eggs #food #food safety

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kisavatore · 6 months ago

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My 2025 Sims 4 Wishlist* for base game updates and packs

*I don't expect to see all this next year obv and I want bug fixes like everyone eles,I'm doing this list purely for fun! (I may add more later)

Fairies (NEW PACK!!!)

Hotels

Being able to completely customize the apartments and hallways in san myshuno-changing the front door,moving/deleting the rat hole,moving/deleting the pipes and electrical box,and getting ride off lot challenges if we want to (I'm glad we can delete/move windows but I hope for a little bit more customization in the future)

Spiral stairs (base game)

Eye color & hair color slider (the same as the make-up one,base game)

New hair in pastel colors (base game)

Pastel color eyes (base game)

Pastel skin colors

More Black hairstyles (base game)

Gamer/geek decor (more headphones,controller,figurines,plushies,art prints,pillows,pen holders etc.)

Decor and functional manga & comic books

New consoles

Anime inspired (or colab) cas or/and b&b kit or stuff pack

Ado song/s added to s-pop station (base game)

Aimer song/s added to s-pop station (base game)

Graves for chickens,cows and llamas from cottage living EP

Bassinet for mermaids

Reptile Pets

Birds Pets

Disability aids (base game)

More/New Clutter-slippers,robes,small candles,cutting boards,mugs,small standing picture frames,make-up,cereal box,makeup,ingredients-flour bag,sugar pack,egg packaging,milk carton etc.,tray (empty with slots),tray with different types of decor e.g.w/ candle,books & mug,laptop & mug,breakfast etc.

Tattoo artist career (new pack)

Ballet Career

New instruments-drums,accordion,flute,harmonica,cello,harp,trumpet (base game)

Pool table

New playground equipment-slides,carousel,rocking horse (base game)

Burglars (base game) IT HAPPEN!!

Separate bank accounts for sims,saving account (base game,I would personally like a bank system similar to SNB mod)

New hobbies-skateboarding,glassblowing,pottery,scrapbooking,soap making,golfing,sewing clothes,ballet

Making a bed like in the sims 3 (base game)

Carnival Pack

New toys for kids (toy kitchen,toy laundry set,cashier toy set,band toy set,tea set,small plushies)

New toys for toddlers (toy kitchen,toy telephone,basketball hoop,Rock-a-Stack,Xylophone)

Public Swimming Pool Decor

Arcade machines

New make-up (cas,base game)

New piercing

Pillowfort for kids

Princess themed furniture/bedroom

Safari themed bedroom

Boho b&b kit

Visual kei CAS Kit

Cyber Goth CAS Kit

Active elementary school

New beds for cats/dogs

Updated textures for older base game hair

Screenshots we are taking appearing in our sims inventory as photos (so we could frame them)

Firefighter Career

Daycare Career

Police Career

Mangaka Career

Police in the game

South Korea inspired world

Africa Inspired world

Poland Inspired world

Another Japan Inspired world (I was thinking Tokyo Inspired City)

Traditional Slavic Clothes (base game or/and kit)

Slavic Home Decor (base game or/and kit)

Traditional Polish Food (base game)

Garage Cutler Kit

Tennis Court

60s/70s fashion kit

80s/90s fashion kit

60s/70s build kit

80s/90s build kit

Infant Stuff Pack

Multi-purpose lot (new pack)

Tosters

Smoothie/Shake Blender

Air Fryer

Fryer

Built in oven

Built in microwave

Burn Scars (base game)

Mini Pigs

New Piercing

#sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 wishlist #ts4 wishlist #sims 4 wishlist 2025 #ts4 wishlist 2025 #my wishlist

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metalmonki · 7 months ago

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Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 16

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2.4k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings MDNI 18+ unprotect p in v, oral F recieving

Authors Note: I'm terrible at writing 18+ content so sorry in advance.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

By the time I got back to the bunker, the plastic bags were digging into my hands, and my mind was still spinning from what Cas had said. I pushed the door open with my shoulder and made my way to the kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter.

The bunker was quiet as usual, save for the faint sound of metal clicking in the lounge room. I peeked in to see Dean sitting on the couch, a gun laid out in front of him as he cleaned it with practiced ease. His bandaged hand moved a little slower than usual, but he didn’t seem to care.

As I started unpacking the bags, I felt his eyes on me. A few seconds later, I heard the soft scrape of the gun being set down on the table.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Dean asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

I froze for a moment, my hands still on a carton of eggs. “What do you mean?” I replied, trying to sound casual.

Dean leaned back, crossing his arms. “I know that look. Something’s weighing on you. What happened?”

I sighed, abandoning the act. There was no point in trying to hide it from Dean—he could always see right through me. I turned to face him, leaning against the counter.

“Cas came to see me,” I said quietly.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his expression shifting from curiosity to something darker. “What did he say?”

I hesitated, but then the words came spilling out—the whole conversation, God’s so-called plan, and how we were apparently breaking it. By the time I finished, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, though I blinked them back.

Dean stood up, pacing a few steps before turning to face me, his green eyes sharp. “You can’t listen to a word Cas says about that crap. He’s been too close to God’s playbook for too long—he doesn’t get it. We’re not pawns, Y/N. Not you, not me.”

“But if we’re really screwing up some grand plan—”

“I don’t give a damn about his plan,” Dean cut me off, his voice firm but not unkind. “I care about you. About us. Whatever comes at us, we’ll handle it. Together.”

I looked at him, his determination so unwavering that it made some of the tension in my chest ease.

Dean must have noticed, because his tone softened as he added, “Look, Sam and Theresa are out on their date night. Maybe we should have one too.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, feeling a small smile tug at my lips despite myself. “A date night? In the bunker?”

“Why not?” Dean shrugged, his usual cocky grin starting to appear. “I’ll grab some beers, we’ll put on a movie, and it’ll be just as good as anything those two are doing.”

I reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tray of ground beef. “How about we start with this? I make a killer burger.”

Dean’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, sweetheart, if your burgers are half as good as your chili, I’m sold.”

“Are you really still going on about my chilli all these months later?”

I laughed softly, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “Just wait. You’ll be begging me to make these every week.”

As I started pulling out spices and ingredients, Dean moved closer, grabbing a cutting board and a knife. “Alright, chef, tell me what to do.”

“Step one,” I teased. “Don’t get in my way.”

Dean chuckled, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

For a little while, the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling meat and lighthearted banter, the weight of Cas’s words temporarily pushed aside. And for now, that was enough.

…

The smell of freshly cooked burgers filled the bunker as Dean and I settled on the couch, plates balanced on our laps. The Nightmare Before Christmas was playing on the TV, and I couldn’t help but hum along to the opening song between bites.

Christmas was just a few weeks away, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a little spark of excitement. I glanced over at Dean, who was completely focused on his burger, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You know,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence, “we should really do something for Christmas this year.”

Dean arched an eyebrow at me, chewing thoughtfully. “Like what?”

I grinned. “The whole shebang! Christmas shopping with Sam and Theresa, decorating the bunker, cooking a huge lunch—turkey, ham, roast veggies, all of it. Eggnog, gingerbread, maybe even one of those cheesy holiday movies Sam secretly loves.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Cheesy holiday movies, huh? Can’t wait to see Sam squirm through that.”

“Exactly!” I said, my excitement growing. “It could be fun, Dean. We’ve never really done Christmas right, you know? Not like this.”

Dean tilted his head, his smile softening as he watched me ramble on. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

“Not yet,” I admitted, taking another bite of my burger. “But I will. I was thinking about dragging Sam and Theresa out to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow. There’s gotta be a few stores still decked out with trees and lights. We could pick up some decorations for the bunker.”

Dean shook his head, his grin turning into a smirk. “Decorating the bunker? You do realize this place isn’t exactly a Hallmark set, right?”

“That’s the point,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “It needs some holiday magic. Imagine it—twinkling lights in the library, a tree in the corner, stockings hung up in the war room.”

Dean let out a small laugh, shaking his head again, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked at me, his expression softer now. “You’re really into this, huh?”

“I am,” I admitted, glancing back at the TV as Jack Skellington started singing about Christmas Town. “I just think we deserve to have something nice, you know? After everything.”

Dean didn’t respond right away, and when I looked over, he was staring at me, his burger forgotten on his plate.

“What?” I asked, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice low. “Just... you’re really something when you’re excited like this.”

My cheeks warmed, and I quickly turned back to the screen, trying to hide my smile.

Dean might not have been entirely convinced about the Christmas spirit, but I could tell he didn’t mind indulging me. And for now, that was enough.

…

The plates were abandoned on the coffee table, the remains of our impromptu dinner forgotten as Dean and I found ourselves tangled up in each other once more. His lips on mine, the warmth of his touch—it was all-consuming, electric.

Dean grabbed my hand and lead me to his room, the world outside the door fading away as we gave ourselves over to each other completely. He freed me from my clothes, allowing his hands to trace each inch of skin that was revealed to him. Once he had me completely nakes he pushed me gently onto his bed, hovering above me. He connected our lips in a hungry kiss, stealing my breath away. He kissed slowly from my neck down to my breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth sucking and licking before moving on to the next. I bit down on my lip to keep from being loud.

“It’s just us here sweetheart no need to be quiet” Dean looked up at me like a man starved of touch.

He returned to my breasts earning a breathy moan. I could feel him smile against my nipple as he kissed in and moved on to kiss down my stomach. He reached the place I needed him most. He spread my legs, bending them at the knee and pushing them out to the sides opening me up in front of him. He licked his lips before placing a soft kiss on the sensitive bud waiting for his attention.

“If you want me to stop just say so” Dean looked up at me. I mustered up small nod before looking off to the side now embarrassed to be naked in front of Dean while he was still completely clothed.

Dean made himself comfortable between my legs before placing my legs over his shoulders. He licked one line up my folds causing me to shake and let out a small squeal mixed with a moan. He immediately went to work licking and sucking at my clit causing my back to arch. The moan that escaped my lips was nothing short of pornographic. Dean knew what he was doing with his tongue and mouth. And he knew it. I could feel the smirk that was plastered on his face. I could feel the heat building in my belly.

“D..Dean I’m going to…” The band tightening in my belly snapped before I could saying anything more. I could feel my legs shaking. I closed my eyes and let the pleasure wash over as Dean worked me through it.

Dean stood up and told me to move up the bed as he pulled his shirt off. I wriggled up the bed not taking my eyes of Dean, wanting to see every part of him. As he pulled down his pants his dick now free from its denim cage sprung up and smacked his stomach. I was far from a virgin but never had I seen a dick so long and thick as his. I was sure he was going to break me. Dean, however, quickly ruined the moment when he hit the ground with a crash as he tried to remove his boots. I couldn’t help but laugh at him. He gave me a cheesy grin from the floor as he got his boots and jeans off. Once he was completely stripped he climbed onto the bed taking his place in between my legs.

“Just remember if you want me to stop…”

“Just say so I know” I smiled up at him.

Dean dipped his head, capture my lips in a kiss full of love. While I was distracted by his lips he took the chance to sneak a hand between us and guide himself into me. The sudden stretch caused me to gasp, throwing my head back onto Deans pillows. Dean stilled once he was completely inside giving me a chance to adjust. But now being in this position I froze up. I think Dean could feel something was wrong. He leaned down and kissed me. The movement caused him to move inside me sending an intense feeling of pleasure ripping through me. I moaned into his mouth as he began to move. Slowly at first but soon he began to move faster. Soon he had my legs up over his shoulders as he found that one spot deep inside me that he hit with precision with each thrust of his hips. Before I knew it I was a babbling mess under his as my release hit me for the second time. Deans movements became sloppy and I felt his hips come to a stuttering holt as his own release washed over him.

The way he held me, whispered my name like it was the only thing that mattered—it was as though all the tension, all the fear and doubt, had melted into something softer, something unbreakable.

Afterward, I lay against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers lazily trailed up and down my arm, a comforting gesture that made me feel safe, grounded.

“Never thought we’d get here,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dean chuckled softly, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek. “Yeah, well... guess the universe finally got something right.”

I smiled, closing my eyes. “Let’s not jinx it.”

His arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “Not a chance.”

Before long, the comforting rise and fall of his chest lulled me into sleep.

A sound startled me awake—a flutter of wings that sent my heart racing. My eyes flew open to see Castiel standing at the foot of the bed, his expression a mix of disappointment and worry.

“Cas,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with sleep. Dean didn’t stir beside me, and I turned to him in confusion.

“He won’t wake,” Cas said flatly, his gaze steady on me. “I’ve ensured it.”

My stomach twisted at his words. “What do you want?”

Cas stepped closer, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m very disappointed in you, Y/N. And I’m scared.”

“Scared?” I echoed, sitting up carefully. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t bear the thought of seeing my daughter or my granddaughters hurt,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

I froze, the words crashing over me like cold water. “Your what?”

Cas sighed, his usual stoicism faltering. “When you were born, you were dead. There was no life in you. Your parents prayed, begged for a miracle... and I answered. I gave you part of my grace to save you, Y/N. You are my daughter—a Nephilim.”

The world tilted on its axis, and I stared at him, unable to process what he’d just said. “I’m... I’m a Nephilim?”

“That is why you heal so quickly,” Cas explained, his tone measured but soft. “It’s also why God’s plans have been so... complicated where you and Dean are concerned.”

“But the granddaughters—”

“You’re pregnant,” Cas interrupted, his voice low. “With identical twin girls.”

My breath caught, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. “That’s not possible. I can’t—”

Cas held up a hand. “You can. And you are.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to know what’s at stake,” Cas said, his tone firm now. “And because... I’ve said too much already.”

Before I could say another word, he vanished, leaving only the faint sound of wings in his wake.

“Cas?” Dean’s groggy voice broke the silence, and I turned to see him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “I heard him. Where is he?”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The weight of Cas’s revelations had left me rooted to the spot. Dean frowned, his gaze locking onto mine.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I stared at him, wondering how I was supposed to tell him what I’d just learned.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #castiel #castiel x reader #Sam Winchester x reader #Sam x reader

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hadassah-is-well · 3 months ago

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From Scratch | Hadassah B. Well

Short Story / April 2025

Never in my life did I imagine myself as a chef.

My life was structured—work, routine, survival. Cooking was just another task to check off, not something I ever looked forward to. My freezer was full of microwave meals, and my fridge with leftovers. Growing up, my meals were bland and overcooked, vegetables soggy and starches limp. To my parents, food was practical, not poetic. When the weather was bad or I ran out of meals to defrost, I’d cook, but it was always out of necessity, never want. It was a chore, and that's how it always felt to me. It was just another ‘thing,’ something as mundane as breathing.

But then, just like when I go grocery shopping, I found a new ingredient.

You.

You entered my life with a spice rack in one hand and a suitcase in the other. You had needed a place to stay until you found a new apartment, and your culinary institution was just down the street.

At first, we had separate groceries, separate meals, separate lives. But then your last semester ended, and you still hadn’t found a place, so we decided you would stay.

I still remember the first time you cooked for me. It was a Thursday night; I had just gotten home from a long shift. You weren’t home. I passed the time by making my grocery list and starting a take out order, but then you busted through the door with a bag of groceries and excitement on your face.

You smiled, a genuine spark in your eyes. “Let’s cook something.”

I hesitated. “I was ordering–”

“No need,” you interrupted, thrusting the bag into my hands, “I got us covered.”

I wanted to grumble something about being tired, sick, or not hungry, but there was just something about the way you moved– full of energy and excitement– that I decided, just this once, I would join you.

So I watched, standing awkwardly at the kitchen counter, as you pulled out ingredients from the bag, naming them and showing them off like they were your prized possessions.

A bag of dough you bought from the woman with the pumpkin apron at the farmers market. A carton of eggs from the man who sells his farm products on the corner of Market and 24th. A can of tomato paste from the grocery store. A bag of shredded cheese (I didn’t even know this type existed). Plum tomatoes. Bell peppers. An onion (yuck). Spices: basic ones that I didn’t have. Enhancements like fresh garlic, dried oregano, and even olive oil.

“What are you making?” I asked, because I have never seen a collection of ingredients like this before.

“Personal pizzas!” You giggled, amusement spreading across your face at my question. “We are making the sauce from scratch.”

I wasn’t very sure what I was supposed to be doing. I listened as you explained what each step was, how we had to let the dough breathe, let the sauce simmer, mince the garlic. That was what you taught me. I was clumsy at first. And dreadfully slow. You had peeled, chopped, and sliced all the tomatoes and peppers before I had even finished one clove.

You watched, wringing your fingers and grimacing in pain at my inexperienced knife wielding, before finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and took the knife from my hands.

“Watch,” you said gently, not rudely or correctively, just gently.

You took my place at the cutting board and picked up the bulb of garlic. You pressed it against your thumbs, expertly separating the cloves. The papery outer layer eventually yields a singular clove: its smooth, curved surface glistening in the light of our kitchen. You held the clove between your fingers and gestured for me to give you the knife. Your fingers brushed mine as you took it, and I watched as you position the blade, flat and confidently, against the clove. You pressed, and with a swift, sharp crack the clove splits, the skin peeling to reveal the aromatic garlic inside. You show me how to peel it efficiently, giving me my own clove to practice with. You had cleaned yours before I even processed what I was doing, too captivated by the deftness of your fingers to begin mine.

You laugh and give me a knife. “Here, do this with me.”

You slide over to leave space for me at the cutting board. You take the knife and the clove and center them in front of you, holding it steady with curled fingers. You lightly raise the knife and make the first cut, a thin slice. Then another, and another, and another each one swift, precise, and clean. Then, you gather the slices together in a small mound and fastly chop. Each pass of the knife leads to finer garlic, eventually becoming a paste. For a final touch, you drag the flat of the blade over the board, pressing and smearing the garlic slightly to show off the consistency of your craft.

You teach me everything, narrating the steps like we are on our own cooking show, your terrible British accent making me crack up over and over again.

I stirred the sauce as you prepared to add the final spices, but you didn’t pick up the tablespoons resting on the counter.

“You aren’t going to measure that?” I asked.

You looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course not. This isn’t about following rules, it's about the feeling.”

That stuck with me as we prepped our pizzas, side by side, the smell of everything we made entangled in the air. I had never thought of cooking as something that required instinct or intuition, but standing beside you made me realize how much I had been missing.

As summer came, you started to grow an herb garden on our balcony, teaching me about all the types of plants. You showed me the scents of basil, rosemary, and thyme– each one evoking a different feeling, a different memory. Basil that smelt like spring. Rosemary like mini pine trees. Thyme that reminded me of earth. You showed me all your spices. Cumin that wrapped around my tongue like smoke. Turmeric that stung my nose. Cinnamon that added a rebellious kick I never knew I needed.

The flavors coated our food in warmth, passion, and something I couldn’t name at the time.

I learned how to share my sacred space. That was the biggest change. My apartment, especially my kitchen, had always been just mine– everything organized, orderly, and untouched by anyone else but me, just the way I like it. But when you were there, it was different. You came into my life and acted like you belonged, and somehow, you did.

We would dance around the kitchen, bumping elbows and trading smiles. We passed ingredients and jokes back and forth, laughing harder and harder each time. You stole bites from my cutting board, fed me spoonfuls of sauces, even twirled me around when I least expected it.

It should have driven me crazy– the mess, the spontaneity, the disregard for my routine– but I felt so alive. I wanted more of it. More of you.

I started to crave the chaos. Cooking together became our thing. Friday nights we split a bottle of wine and cooked with whatever we found in the fridge. It was one of these Friday nights where we finished the bottle before we had started cooking, when you turned to me from your spot on the couch.

“Do you mind the taste of onions?” You slurred, a playful look in your eye. We had given up and ordered take out, and you had gotten onion rings.

I looked at you and thought carefully, my head pounding and my body warm. I had never liked onions. I hated the way they lingered in my mouth, how they overpowered every part of a dish. You scooted a little closer and before I could speak, you kissed me.

Softly at first. Like a question. And then deeper, like you had been waiting for this moment. I felt it everywhere, in the warmth of your hands on my waist and the way you leaned into me. When you pulled away, my heart was racing and my mind was spinning.

You smiled at me, a little out of breath. “Well?”

I swallowed, tasting the wine, the onions, and you on my lips. It was a strange combination. But I surprised myself with my response. “I don’t mind,” I murmured.

And I meant it.

Because loving you was like cooking. Messy. Unpredictable. Full of flavors I never thought I would like– until you.

But loving you was like cooking. And cooking doesn’t always go as planned.

I don’t remember when it all fell apart. I don’t know if it was gradual, like caramel left simmering too long, or suddenly, like a broken dish.

Either way, one day you were here, beside me, laughing as you brushed flour off my cheek, and the next, you weren’t.

At first, I tried to hold on to the parts of you I still had– spices on the counter, peeling garlic, the way you cleaned the kitchen. I kept cooking, following the same steps, trying to recreate the feeling of us.

But nothing ever tasted right. I thought I was imagining it, but each meal I cooked made it clear: nothing was as good as it used to be. The herb garden died. Even cinnamon, the spice you taught me to embrace, made my stomach turn.

One night, I tried to make pasta from scratch like we used to. I followed every single step exactly, even down to the song you used to hum while cutting out strands. I took one bite and threw the rest away. It was fine. Just fine. And I hated it.

It was awful, not because I messed up, but because it wasn’t ours. Just mine. I hated it. I followed every step, every spice, every motion. But it tasted wrong. It wasn’t just the meal that was off; it was everything.

I hated how I let you change me. The way you slipped into my kitchen and my life, rearranging everything until I didn’t know how to go back.

So I stopped.

Stopped using the spices you left behind. Stopped cooking our favorite dishes. Stopped pretending the kitchen was anything more than what my parents had taught me it was: a place for food, not feelings.

I went back to safe, predictable, but albeit empty foods. Boiled pasta with store-bought sauce. Steamed vegetables. Microwave meals.

One evening, after a particularly long day, I opened the fridge, searching for something– anything– that wouldn’t remind me of you. But tucked away behind a carton of milk sat an onion. I don’t even remember buying it. I pick it up, rolling it in my palms, feeling its weight. It was just an onion, but all I could think about was that night. The way you kissed me. Before everything changed.

I grabbed a knife and sliced it in half; the scent hit me instantly. Sharp, pungent, and stinging, making my eyes water. I chopped the onion with a kind of reckless abandon, my hands trembling, tears stinging my eyes. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about the mess or the taste. I tossed it all away—the pieces, the spices, the feeling of you—and for the first time in ages, the kitchen felt empty.

But it was my space again. It was mine.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t miss you.

From Scratch ~ Hadassah B. Well

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insteading · 27 days ago

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"Product:

Recalled brown cage free eggs and brown certified organic eggs were sold under multiple different brand names at restaurants and retailers. These eggs should no longer be available for sale. Recalled brown cage free eggs and brown certified organic eggs were supplied by August Egg Company, Hilmar, CA.

The recalled eggs have a printed Julian Date between “32” and “126” followed by a plant code number “P-6562” or “CA-5330” on the egg carton or package. The recalled eggs sold at retail stores are packed in fiber or plastic cartons, with the above codes printed on one side of the carton.

Brands the recalled eggs were sold under include: Clover, First Street, Nulaid, O Organics, Marketside, Raleys, Simple Truth, Sun Harvest, and Sunnyside.

Symptoms of Salmonella infection:

Illness usually occurs within 12 to 72 hours after eating food that is contaminated with Salmonella, and the symptoms usually last four to seven days. Symptoms include diarrhea, fever, and abdominal cramps. Children younger than five, the elderly, and people with weakened immune systems are more likely to have severe infections.

Stores Affected

Recalled brown cage free eggs and brown certified organic eggs were distributed from February 3, 2025, through May 15, 2025, with sell by dates from March 4, 2025, to June 4, 2025, in California and Nevada to retail locations including Save Mart, FoodMaxx, Lucky, Smart & Final, Safeway, Raleys, Food 4 Less, and Ralphs.

The eggs were also distributed from February 3, 2025, through May 6, 2025, with sell by dates from March 4, 2025, to June 19, 2025, to Walmart locations in California, Washington, Nevada, Arizona, Wyoming, New Mexico, Nebraska, Indiana, and Illinois.

FDA is working with the firm to determine if eggs were distributed elsewhere and will update the advisory as information becomes available.

Status

Ongoing

Recommendations

Consumers, restaurants, and retailers should not eat, sell, or serve recalled brown cage free and brown certified organic eggs from August Egg Company.

Consumers, restaurants, and retailers who purchased or received the recalled eggs, including wholesale eggs, should carefully clean and sanitize any surfaces or containers that they touched.

Check your refrigerators for the recalled brown cage free and brown certified organic eggs and throw them away or return them to the place of purchase. If you stored the eggs without the original packaging and can’t tell if it is part of this outbreak, throw them away.

Wash hands, utensils, and surfaces with hot, soapy water before and after handling raw eggs and raw egg-containing foods. Follow FDA’s safe handling and cleaning advice and use extra care in cleaning and sanitizing any surfaces and containers that may have come in contact with this product to reduce the risk of cross-contamination.

Contact your healthcare provider if you think you may have developed symptoms of a Salmonella infection, after eating eggs."

#food recall #salmonella #contamination #august egg company #egg recall

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cleverhottubmiracle · 1 month ago

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More than 1.7 million eggs have been recalled across the U.S. due to a salmonella outbreak now linked to brown organic and cage-free eggs sold under multiple brand names, according to the FDA and CDC. As of June 6, 2025, at least 79 people across 7 states have gotten sick—and 21 were hospitalized. If you bought brown cage-free or organic eggs from Walmart, FoodMaxx, Save Mart, or other retailers, check the carton codes to see if yours are part of the recall. Related: Check your fridge: Cucumber recall hits 15 states after salmonella outbreak Which organic eggs are part of the recall? The recall affects brown cage-free and certified organic eggs distributed by August Egg Company, based in Hilmar, CA. These eggs may be sold under the following brand names:Clover, First Street, Nulaid, O Organics, Marketside, Raleys, Simple Truth, Sun Harvest, Sunnyside. Sold at:Walmart, Save Mart, FoodMaxx, Lucky, Smart & Final, Safeway, Raleys, Food 4 Less, Ralphs, and others. Here’s how to identify recalled eggs: Look for a Julian date between 32 and 126. Followed by plant codes: P-6562 or CA-5330. These codes are printed on the side of the carton (fiber or plastic). Example of Julian Date and Plant Code Sell-by dates range from March 4 to June 19, 2025. Full list of affected products Item NamePlant NumberCarton UPCClover Large Brown Organic 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330070852010427First Street Large Brown Cage Free Loose 1 case = 150 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330041512039638Nulaid Medium Brown Cage Free 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330071230021042Nulaid Jumbo Brown Cage Free 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330071230021011O Organics Cage Free Large Brown 6 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330079893401522O Organics Large Brown 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330079893401508O Organics Large Brown 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330079893401546Marketside Large Cage Free Brown Organic 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330681131122771Marketside Large Cage Free Brown Organic 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330681131122801Marketside Large Brown Cage Free 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330681131122764Marketside Large Brown Cage Free 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330681131122795Raleys Large Brown Cage Free 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330046567033310Raleys Large Brown Cage Free 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330046567040325Raleys Organic Large Brown Organic 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330046567028798Raleys Organic Large Brown Organic 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330046567040295Simple Truth Medium Brown Cage Free 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330011110099327Simple Truth Large Brown Cage Free 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330011110873743Sun Harvest Cage Free Large Brown Organic 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330041512131950Sun Harvest Cage Free Large Brown Organic 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330041512145162Sunnyside Large Brown Cage Free 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330717544211747Sunnyside Large Brown Cage Free 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330717544211754Sunnyside Cage Free Large Brown Organic 12 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330717544201441Sunnyside Cage Free Large Brown Organic 18 eggsP-6562 or CA-5330717544211761Loose Small Brown Cage Free – 1 box = 6 flats (1 flat = 30 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NALoose Medium Brown Cage Free – 1 box = 6 flats (1 flat = 30 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NALoose Medium Brown Organic – 1 box = 6 flats (1 flat = 30 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NALoose Large Brown Organic – 1 box = 6 flats (1 flat = 30 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NALoose Jumbo Brown Cage Free – 1 box = 5 flats (1 flat = 20 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NALoose Jumbo Brown Organic – 1 box = 5 flats (1 flat = 20 eggs)P-6562 or CA-5330NA Which states are part of the 2025 egg recall? Recalled eggs were distributed in nine states: Arizona, California, Illinois, Indiana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, Washington, and Wyoming Confirmed salmonella cases have been reported in:Arizona, California, Kentucky, Nebraska, New Jersey, Nevada, and Washington The FDA is still investigating, so more locations may be added. Related: CPSC recalls Amazon faucets over lead exposure risk to babies, kids, and pregnant women Where have people gotten sick from eating contaminated eggs? Illnesses started as early as February 24, 2025, and continued through May 17, 2025. Of those who became ill: 27 of 30 reported eating eggs or egg-containing dishes. 21 people were hospitalized. No deaths have been reported. FDA traceback efforts identified August Egg Company as the common supplier. Environmental testing confirmed Salmonella Enteritidis contamination at their processing facility. What is the risk of salmonella? Salmonella can cause serious illness—especially in: Children under 5. Older adults. People with weakened immune systems. Common symptoms include: Diarrhea (sometimes bloody). Fever over 102°F. headaches. Stomach cramps. Dehydration (dry mouth, dizziness, fewer wet diapers). Symptoms usually appear 12 to 72 hours after exposure and last 4 to 7 days. Call your doctor or pediatrician right away if you notice any of these signs in your child or yourself. What should you do if you have the recalled eggs? Do not eat the eggs.If you spot the recalled codes (P-6562 or CA-5330) or are unsure of origin, throw them out or return them for a refund. Sanitize thoroughly.Wash any surfaces, containers, utensils, or dishes that may have come into contact with the eggs using hot, soapy water or a dishwasher. Wash hands before and after handling eggs.Even small traces of contamination can spread in your kitchen if not cleaned properly. A final word to fellow parents Meal prep is already stressful. Discovering a recall on something as basic as eggs? It’s enough to make any parent feel overwhelmed. But this isn’t about blame—it’s about staying informed and acting quickly. The good news? Most people recover fully from salmonella, and awareness is your best defense. If you’ve served eggs recently and your child seems fine, take a deep breath. But if you do notice symptoms—or can’t confirm your eggs are safe—it’s OK to toss them. Your peace of mind matters too. Bookmark the FDA’s official recall page here.Share this post with other caregivers, especially in affected states. Sources: Salmonella outbreak. June 2025. CDC. Salmonella Outbreak Linked to Eggs. Salmonella outbreak. June 2025. FDA. Outbreak Investigation of Salmonella: Eggs (June 2025). Source link

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norajworld · 1 month ago

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why5x5 · 1 month ago

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Company Announcement August Egg Company of Hilmar, CA is recalling 1,700,000 dozen brown cage free and brown certified organic eggs, because they have the potential to be contaminated with Salmonella, an organism which can cause serious and sometimes fatal infections in young children, frail or elderly people, and others with weakened immune systems. Healthy persons infected with Salmonella often experience fever, diarrhea (which may be bloody), nausea, vomiting and abdominal pain. In rare circumstances, infection with Salmonella can result in the organism getting into the bloodstream and producing more severe illnesses such as arterial infections (i.e., infected aneurysms), endocarditis and arthritis.

The eggs were distributed from February 3, 2025, through May 15, 2025, with sell by dates from March 4, 2025, to June 4, 2025, within California and Nevada. The eggs were distributed at retail locations including Save Mart, FoodMaxx, Lucky, Smart & Final, Safeway, Raleys, Food 4 Less and Ralphs.

The recalled eggs will have printed on the carton or package a plant code number P-6562 or CA5330 with the Julian Dates between 32 to 126. The recalled retail eggs will be in fiber or plastic cartons, with the above codes printed on one side of the carton. (See photo following for Julian date location.)

#food safety #food recall #fda #eggs #salmonella

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home-inspiration-blog · 1 month ago

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CA-based egg company recalls 1.7 million cartons of eggs due to potential salmonella contamination; dozens sickened

Millions of eggs sold at Walmart stores and other grocers in California and eight other states have been recalled amid a salmonella outbreak that has sickened dozens. August Egg Company of Hilmar, California, has recalled 1.7 million cartons of brown cage free and brown certified organic eggs due to potential salmonella contamination, the Food and Drug Administration announced Friday. The FDA,…

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poultry-1 · 1 year ago

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Poultry Cartons: The Natural Choice for Egg Protection

In today's market, where consumers are increasingly conscious of sustainability and environmental impact, poultry cartons stand out as the premier choice for egg cartons. Not only do they safeguard the delicate contents within, but they also align with the growing demand for eco-friendly packaging solutions. In this article, we delve into the multifaceted benefits of poultry cartons, exploring why they are the natural choice for egg protection.

Why Poultry Cartons Matter Environmental Benefits of Poultry Cartons One of the most compelling reasons to choose poultry cartons is their environmental benefits. Made from recycled materials, these cartons are biodegradable and compostable, reducing the carbon footprint associated with egg packaging. Unlike plastic alternatives, poultry cartons do not contribute to the growing problem of plastic pollution. By choosing poultry cartons, producers and consumers alike support a more sustainable and eco-friendly packaging option.

Superior Protection for Eggs Poultry cartons are designed to provide superior protection for eggs. The structure of these cartons cushions the eggs, minimizing the risk of breakage during transportation and handling. The individual compartments ensure that eggs do not knock against each other, which is a common cause of damage. This not only helps in maintaining the quality of the eggs but also reduces food waste, making poultry cartons an excellent choice for both producers and consumers.

Material Composition and Design Recycled and Renewable Materials Poultry cartons are typically made from recycled paper or molded pulp, which are both renewable resources. This choice of material is not only sustainable but also ensures that the cartons are sturdy and durable. The use of recycled materials in the production of poultry cartons further underscores their environmental benefits, as it reduces the demand for virgin resources and minimizes waste.

Innovative Design Features The innovative design features of poultry cartons are another factor that sets them apart. These cartons are engineered to provide maximum protection with minimal material. The design includes features such as reinforced corners, secure locking mechanisms, and ventilation holes. These elements work together to protect the eggs from impact and environmental factors, ensuring that they reach the consumer in perfect condition.

Economic Advantages Cost-Effectiveness In addition to their environmental and protective benefits, poultry cartons are also cost-effective. The materials used in their production are generally less expensive than plastic, and the manufacturing process is efficient and economical. This makes poultry cartons an attractive option for egg producers looking to reduce costs without compromising on quality or sustainability.

Market Appeal The market appeal of poultry cartons cannot be overstated. Consumers today are more informed and concerned about the environmental impact of their purchases. By choosing poultry cartons, producers can appeal to this growing demographic of eco-conscious consumers. This can lead to increased sales and a stronger brand reputation, as consumers are more likely to support companies that prioritize sustainability.

Health and Safety Considerations Natural and Safe Materials The natural materials used in poultry cartons are safe and non-toxic, making them an ideal choice for food packaging. Unlike plastic cartons, which can sometimes contain harmful chemicals, poultry cartons pose no risk of chemical leaching. This ensures that the eggs remain uncontaminated and safe for consumption.

Regulatory Compliance Poultry cartons comply with stringent food safety regulations, providing peace of mind for both producers and consumers. These regulations ensure that the materials used are suitable for food contact and that the manufacturing processes adhere to high standards of hygiene and safety. By choosing poultry cartons, producers can be confident that they are meeting all necessary regulatory requirements.

The Future of Egg Packaging Innovation and Development The future of egg packaging is bright, with ongoing innovation and development in the field of poultry cartons. Manufacturers are continually looking for ways to improve the design and functionality of these cartons, incorporating new materials and technologies to enhance their performance. This commitment to innovation ensures that poultry cartons will remain at the forefront of sustainable egg packaging solutions.

Consumer Trends Consumer trends indicate a growing preference for sustainable packaging options. As awareness of environmental issues continues to rise, more consumers are choosing products that align with their values. This shift in consumer behavior is driving demand for poultry cartons and encouraging more producers to adopt these eco-friendly packaging solutions.

Conclusion: The Natural Choice Poultry cartons are undeniably the natural choice for egg cartons. Their environmental benefits, superior protection, cost-effectiveness, and market appeal make them the ideal packaging solution for eggs. By choosing poultry cartons, producers can meet the needs of eco-conscious consumers, reduce their environmental impact, and ensure the safety and quality of their products.

#egg cartons #pulp egg cartons

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anthonybialy · 1 year ago

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Congested Taxes

The People’s Republic of New York is not going to punish victims residing within its borders any more than it already has. Agonies that never happen are blessings to count, so don’t forget when you’re praying while facing Albany. Frightened subjects should relax, as they’ve been saved from one more blasted personal tariff by the benevolent deity chosen to decide how much of what you selfishly hoarded can be retained.

The looming congestion tax will idle until Democrats make sure they can get extra terms. Kathy Hochul does the right thing when the wrong one she cherishes would cost her votes. She’s a woman of integrity if still believing something dreadful counts.

Life is so arbitrary, particularly if you inhabit a state where governors decree which diktats will affect life today. Hochul canceled a tax the moment before it rolled into being using the same arbitrarily autocratic power that allowed Andrew Cuomo to save us from a virus by proclaiming bars must serve food with drinks.

You can suffer more later. Hochul proclaimed that this is not the right time for another mandated payment to the capital, what with a trip to Burger King costing as much as a housing payment in 2019. Punishment for existing will be acceptable again once collective finances are a little rosier.

It’s so caring of the state’s queen to not punish people further at a time when they are unable to afford luxuries like eggs. Hochul wants to alleviate further anguish, for which you must remember to offer credit. Congregants must simultaneously disregard how they endure hard times because of her.

The hand of the almighty moves in a capricious manner which mere mortals cannot grasp. The human mind is puzzled why inflation spiked just as soon as the party that rules New York went national. I blame corporate greed, which was discovered in early 2021 by Koch Industries scientists.

The canceled tithe will keep the economy from getting worse, which baffles Democratic experts who presume the state is the source of well-being and decency. Generating as much by not installing a new method for ripping off citizens is liberal mathematical magic.

I’m thrilled when a tax generates nothing. But I’m not a grabby politician. Letting people spend what they earn to benefit the economy is as foreign a notion in the erstwhile Empire State as punishing anyone for allegedly committing felonies but Donald Trump.

An excise for the crime of moving is designed to reduce drivers and also not reduce them. Supreme planners want to alleviate clogged streets with a fine but need the streets clogged so they can collect fines. You must feel sorry for their quandary by law. Politicians claim they don’t see themselves as deities. Then they try to make something both happen and not happen. Proof they’re false gods comes in losing electoral votes.

Taxing something politicians have deemed pernicious in order to keep ignorant charges from harming themselves is the tobacco quandary. Don’t smoke because it’s bad for your lungs and other organs, but please keep buying Marlboro cartons so leaders can spend the cash better.

A fee for ground covered would keep people from heading forward more literally than usual. Reducing movement is a symbol for New York that those pouting about the lack of new pirating. Society’s architects never grasp consequences in their charming way.

Do as you’re taxed. Causes of effects think a new fee will lead to the same percentage increase in revenue. Trust the same compassion junkies who were shocked to learn crime increases without punishment for it.

New York is helpful if you’re starting your own state and seek countless dire examples to avoid. The presumption that awful idiots who are so inept that they had to run for office get the economy going by pilfering from the useful has reduced traffic even without a tax, although roadways to Florida are clogged. It’s too bad they can’t charge for moving out of state.

The quantity of cars on any roadway regulates itself. Coping with other drivers in order to get somewhere worthwhile is a simple balance of costs versus benefit, which is why Democrats don’t understand. Manhattan’s streets are busy for a reason. Pyongyang doesn’t need a toll, and not just because it’s freer than New York.

Spending less is a revolutionary notion that would cause chaos. It never occurs to class warfare guerrillas that patterns will change any more than they think subtracting an even larger percentage from an already-depleted economy to fund useless governmental agencies brings righteous progress. They had already spent money that wasn’t theirs.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority can’t transit people through the metropolitan area despite its authority. I wish the inaccurate name were the worst part out of enduring an underground train ride that vainly races pedestrians at surface level. A private subway operator who could be fired might be able to work with the present budget and maybe even find a way to buy 21st-century technology. But the trains running on time would set a bad precedent for the Il Hoche reign.

Car-hating leftists fume about not getting to punish drivers so they stand still. Ripping off automobile operators for daring to want to visit a city only sounds like it’s made up to mock liberals. Those who claim eliminating competition creates efficiency never determine just why a government agency with a monopoly on underground trains loses so much while overcharging for atrocious service.

Legalized grifters’ version of revenue never involves creating their own by offering a worthwhile product or service. Instead, demonize those who’ve managed to earn despite innumerable burdens already inflicted. That’s way easier. Use police power to threaten anyone loath to fork over more.

Hochul’s vote-buying tax postponement ticks off innate schemers who’re lamenting lost funds instead of asking who’d be funding. Using another freaking levy to seize from beleaguered taxpayers would stop traffic, all right. As for driving patterns, I’d wager the governor will take her taxing trip about four seconds after polls close. Keep bracing for the state to go into action as it restricts just that.

#New York #Kathy Hochul #taxes #congestion tax #economy #MTA #transportation #congestion pricing

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