#Nobody wants soft dough on a pizza

[sphoenix79]

Chefs of tumblr, is this cooked enough

I think it might be undercooked

[n4nameless]

Hello Tumblr!

Hi, I have no idea how to introduce myself or where I am since I’m kind of just new here and posting for the first time.

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So I’m just going post an Introduction of myself and see how it works and ask for help to know how can I fit in, because I’m barely aware where I am and what I’m trying to do.

Introduction

I am N4Nameless, some random dork on the internet, more likely a nobody, I’ve been wanting to find a spot where I can show myself as a person and some personal work I’ve been making in the background. I want to try to share some projects what I worked on publicly, whenever it’s just art work, animation, or something I’ve done on anything really, I just want to see in what way I can entertain. I am not that upfront with being social, but i will like to push myself to be more open minded towards it. Now I’ll probably make some sort of ironic bullet point list now about myself.

Something to know about me

you can call me Nameless, just don’t give me a name, my mom already gave me my personal one.

I am currently a big boy, I’m just 23 and wondering why that makes me feel 12.

I have classic experience witnessing of god with photoshop and aftereffects, including other soft wares I will like to use and mess with.

I have high function autism along with some speech impediment, and I'm self aware about it, which I’ll try to promise this might the only post I'll make about it, just to make myself more fruity.

I can draw really not that bad, but I managed to some motion graphics degree with it (like the basic degree)

I don’t know if I'm good at math, I just hope how my introduction of myself at this point adds up who am I.

my favorite colors rhymes with glue

my favorite snack isn’t glue, but it’s Jolly Ranchers.

I am folding my clothes like a grown adult living with their parents at the point when I'm typing this.

my social security number will not be provided on here. (or driver’s license)

I like button up hawaiian shirts, especially with the collar.

by the time of this post, to demonstrate the kind of nobody I am, I stream on twitch, as a hobby, with at least 80 followers.

I work at some papa murphy's, where our pizzas are still raw, and I make the dough and I shred the cheese.

I enjoy playing video games and having a chance of meeting people on there and regretting more than half of the encounters. it’s a bad habit and I enjoy it.

Outro

I hope this is the right way how to introduce myself and find my way to fit in, I also hope it’ll be nice to meet people on here, I cannot demonstrate how hard it is for me to be out here and introducing myself, I honestly just hope that this post will be at least be a learning experience for me to be more open minded to meet people and have me motivated to be more what I can find myself as.

[themisinformer]

Opinion: Kids Are So Sensitive These Days; Back in My Day, I Died Several Times and Turned Out Completely Fine

Let me tell you something about kids these days: they’re coddled. They’re soft. They have no grit, no resilience. Back in my day, we didn’t cry over “trauma” or “hurt feelings.” Nosire. We got up every morning, chugged a breakfast of pure cholesterol, walked several hours uphill in the snow just to get to school, and more often than not—died at least once before lunchtime.

And you know what? It built character.

Kids these days with their “safe spaces” and “mental health days” wouldn’t survive a single day in the ‘60s. I got hit by a car—TWICE, and my parents didn’t even bat an eye. If you made it to dinner without losing a limb or contracting some kind of plague, then you weren’t even trying to build a character. You were nothing but a bitch and that was that—and we didn’t even think about calling bitches real men—because they WERE’NT. But it’s all different now. And we wonder why the west is falling.

My best friend once fell into a ravine and didn’t come back home for three weeks. And what did his parents do? They told him to shake it off and to be home before new years in eight months. And he did! Because back then, we fended for ourselves. We didn’t rely on our parents for ANYTHING. We were our own men, and that built CHARACTER.

Nowadays, you so much as mention the word “stress,” and then all the kids clutch their pearls, scream “therapy!” and melt into a puddle of avocado toast and Wi-Fi passwords. And don’t even get me started on those fucking “participation trophies.” Back in my day, the only trophy you got was survival—and that was no guarantee.

I once contracted tetanus, smallpox and chickenpox all in the same week. And I didn’t go whining to my parents or start begging to be drugged up on vaccines and antidepressants or whatever. No, I toughed it out like a REAL MAN SHOULD! If anything, I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t dealing with something serious like a scratch from a rusty nail—which if you didn’t know, instantly killed 12 of my cousins.

But we didn’t complain. We had backbones, not these flimsy spines made out of pronouns and gluten free pizza dough. These young people would fold under the kind of pressure that we faced. Have you ever been sent to the store with a dollar and told to buy milk, bread, and a house. No? Then don’t talk to me about your “inflation” and “housing crisis.” My generation thrived on impossibilities. We worked 70 hours per week and still had enough time left over to invest in stocks, raise a family and die a violent, tragic death every Tuesday afternoon.

So no, I don’t want to hear about how your feelings were hurt just because somebody didn’t like your TikTok. Because you know what? Nobody liked me either, but I actually had REAL problems, like being lost at sea for three months or having to swim across the Atlantic to get my first part-time job. You think I ever had time to give a damn about whether I was “liked” or not?

The hard truth is that not only are kids overly sensitive these days; but they also haven’t died about times to build any real resilience. Back in my day, death was just another speed bump on the road of life.

[jtsfavslut]

Fine Line Track 02: WATERMELON SUGAR [G.D]

Description: Two teens spent a hot summer in Hawaii together.

Warnings: Smut!! 

Word Count: 6.2K+

‘Tastes like strawberries, On a summer evening’ - Watermelon Sugar Harry Styles

Her lips wrapped around the small striped straw. Red and white lines swirling throughout the straw as her cherry pink lips stained the paper. A satisfied sigh fell past her lips as the cold drink slid down her warm throat, her lips curling into a small smile as the summer heat got washed away with her juice.

"Are you just going to sit there all summer?" Grayson shouted, shaking her up, not expecting him until later in the day.

"Maybe, maybe not," she smiled, lifting the glasses off her eyes and onto her forehead, in attempts of getting a good look at her best friend who she hadn't seen in months.

"I hope not. There's a lot to do around here," he muttered as he walked towards her, her body laying on one of those deck chairs by the pool, a red, skimpy bikini covered the precious belongings that Grayson tore his eyes off of, not wanting to disrespect her, as he should.

"Gimme a hug Dolan, don't just stand there,"  she smiled up at him, extending her hands as he leaned down, wrapping them around his shoulders, a hint of his cologne bringing nothing but happiness to her nose.

"You've been working out huh?" Her eyes traveled down his large build. It was obvious Grayson had grown over the past months.

"Gotta blow out the steam and stress," he shrugged, sitting on the chair next to her, "How 'bout you?"

"Me? I just meditate or hit the gym when I feel like I need to, you know?" She replied, bringing her glasses back down to her eyes, trying to block out the sun who seemed to be on its highest power that day.

"I get it. Gotta clean the energy 'round you," he mumbled as he closed his eyes, the stress from the past months lifting off his shoulder ever since his plane landed.

"How were your classes?" she yawned, not because she was tired but because of how free she felt.

"Harder than last year. Last week, I thought about dropping out," he chuckled making her laugh.

"The Grayson Dolan considering giving up? Engineering must be fucking hard then," she took another sip from her drink, a teasing scoff coming from Grayson once he saw the 'MelonBerry' bottle in her hands.

"How the fuck did you bring those to Hawaii?"

"Brought em' on the plane. Wrapped them up real nice and put em' in my suitcase," she chuckled, "You want one?"

"I'm good, thanks,"

"Suit yourself," she shrugged before taking another sip, letting out a loud and dramatic 'ahh' to crawl up Grayson's skin.

"You should stop drinking that before you turn into one," Grayson muttered with his eyes closed, a teasing smirk on his lips as a scoff came from Y/N.

"Fuck off, Bailey," she laughed, flipping him off, a content smile on her face, "I missed you," she sighed.

They haven't seen each other since months prior, each going to different colleges, each in a separate and distant state. Grayson came up with the idea to meet in Hawaii, saying it would be a fun experience for her. Y/N argued, claiming it was too expensive, and it wasn't in her budget. But Grayson being Grayson, sent her an email later that day, a round trip to Hawaii from Boston, and pictures of the Air BNB he rented. She called him with tears in her eyes, nagging him about spending an unnecessary amount of money on her, which of course, he simply shrugged off.

"I missed you too, and your annoying voice," Grayson replied, making her scoff, "I'm serious! It gets lonely when you're not around,"

"Boston would be better with you, you know? Life isn't as fun without you," she sighed, placing her bottle of juice down before getting up from her chair, taking her glasses off, carefully placing them down before walking towards the pool, slowly going down the small staircase that led to the water.

Small goosebumps rose through her skin as the feeling of the water and Grayson's eyes made contact with her soft skin. "You coming Gray?" Her voice came out soft and angelic, nothing but innocence within her words.

"I'm good," He never took his eyes off her, eyes being hooked to every inch of her skin, cursing himself out for every blink he made, as if he were to close his eyes for too long she would disappear from his eyes, "for now,"

"Your loss," she shrugged before completely submerging under the water, hair wet and sticking to her skin as she came back up, giggles falling past her lips as she bit them, looking directly towards Grayson, a teasing look on her face as she stared at him.

"Don't do that," he glared, "Don't look at me like that Y/N, come on,"

"Like what? I'm literally just inviting you to swim Grayson, but whatever," she shrugged and went back in the water, causing Grayson to roll his eyes. He forced himself to think about disgusting things, not wanting to feel or look at his best friend the way he was.

. . .

"How many days are we staying here? I forgot," Y/N asked as she walked to the couch, a giant blanket engulfed her body, as she made her way over to the large living room.

"A month," Grayson replied, not looking up from his phone, his thumbs quickly tapping on the screen as he typed something.

"Wow, a month," she whispered before getting up from the couch, not even a minute from when she first sat down, she walked over to the kitchen.

Grabbing a nice bottle of her 'MelonBerry' juice she walked back to the couch, she stood before Grayson, a pout on her lips as she extended her arm to him, "Can you open this for me, please?"

He grabbed the bottle from her hand, fingers touching against each other as he did so, small currents of energy running through each other's skins, Grayson took a rather large sip after opening it, making Y/N send him a glare, "I thought you didn't like these?" She asked, turning her head  to the side, slightly squinting her eyes as she looked at Grayson. 

"Wanna see what you taste like," He smirked, looking at her, trying to see any sort of change in her expression, but nothing. Y/N decided to let the comment remain unheard, "It's sweet, tastes like strawberries,"

"It's called MelonBerry Grayson. Melon for watermelon, berry for strawberry," Y/N replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it sort of was, and Grayson just did it to get under her skin, "Anyways, thank you for drinking half the fucking bottle," she scoffed once she looked inside the red translucent glass bottle, Grayson's sip taking almost half of the bottle.

"Can't help it, it's so, so good," Grayson's voice was deep and rough, a teasing tone to it, making Y/N's skin shiver, the small hairs in the back of her neck standing up with every syllable he spoke.

She shook her head, sitting down on the couch. She no longer felt cold, taking the giant blanket off her body, leaving her in a pair of Pajama shorts, and a small white tank top, "It really is good, 's why I drink it so much,"

Grayson's eyes traveled down her body, her nipples being outlined by the small, and sort of tight white shirt, her thighs were almost bare, and for once Grayson felt like losing it, "You hungry?" He asked, stopping his mind from going to forbidden places.

"Mhm," she hummed with the straw in her mouth, quickly pushing it away from her mouth with her tongue, "I stopped at a grocery store before coming here. I bought pizza dough, we can make it if you want,"

"Let's do it," he got up from the couch, walking to the kitchen as Y/N followed, she got all the ingredients out before washing her hands, she took some flour sprinkling it on the counter before placing the dough on it, carefully and smoothly massaging it with her hands as Grayson watched.

"You wanna try it?" she asked and he nodded his head, before she could move, he locked her in, placing his body behind her's, his hand landing next to hers, "Not what I meant, but okay," she shook her head before she began work with the dough again, Grayson's head landed on her shoulder, his warm, yet cold breath sending shivers down her spine with every breath he took.

"This is fun," he whispered and she nodded her head, Grayson grabbed her hands, tightly holding them in his before moving his hands up to her shoulders, "You're stressed, M' working on your shoulders and you do that," he whispered against her neck as Y/N stayed frozen, she quickly shook her head, her hands started working on the dough as she closed her eyes, Grayson's hands working wonders on her neck.

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" Her name sounding different when it left his mouth, the entire question didn't feel like it was relating to a simple, friendly massage, "Answer the question,"

"Mhm, your hands are good," she nodded her head, opening her eyes, internally shaking off whatever was going on, "Really good,"

"Gray, it's done," she whispered, knowing the pizza was ready for the sauce and the rest of the things, "I'm hungry,"

"Where's the sauce?" He took her hands off her shoulder, Y/N suddenly felt cold and lonely, simply pushing it away she pointed towards the jar filled with the red sauce.

Waiting for the pizza was hell for both Grayson and Y/N. They crossed a line and were now suffering the consequences. Nobody dared to say a word, both purposely lost themselves in their phones until the pizza, where Y/N decided to break the silence, "What are we doing tomorrow?" She asked after swallowing the bite she had taken

"To the beach, and I know about this secret waterfall that we could go the day after," Grayson shrugged, locking his phone and placing it on the table.

"Secret waterfall?"

"Yeah, it's in this creek, but it's hiding away. Ever since I found it, I go there all the time," Grayson explained and Y/N nodded her head, "Come, here you got something," Grayson leaned over the table, placing his thumb on the corner of her mouth.

She didn't actually have anything, he just wanted to touch her, "There, all done,"

"Well, just wake me up tomorrow, you always get up before me, good night," she got up from her chair, throwing her plate in the trash and walking to her room, to shower and try and sleep. Sleep was something that was not in the schedule because it was almost 2 am and she found herself scrolling through TikTok.

"Can't sleep?" Grayson asked, knocking on her door, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, been up the whole time," She replied as he walked in, sitting down on her bed, "You?"

"Same, too many thoughts," He sighed, laying his head down on a pillow.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asked, extending her blanket over to him.

"I don't know. It's just weird, we haven't seen each other in months, and I don't know it's different," he yawned, taking a look around the room. Her suitcase was neatly placed in the corner of her room, her makeup was spread out on top of the dresser, and her shoes were all laid out in a straight line by a wall.

"Different in what way?" Her eyes were closed, tiredness taking over her body at the wrong time, she wanted to talk to Grayson but she was slowly drifting away with every word he spoke.

"I don't know. Just different,"

"Y/N get up," Grayson groaned for what seemed the millionth time in the morning, forgetting how hard it was to wake her up.

"Shut up, m' trying to sleep" she muttered, nuzzling her face into the pillow, in an attempt to block out the sunlight that was coming from the window.

"And I'm trying to go to the beach, so get your fat ass up," he said, ripping the blanket off her body, causing her to finally wake up.

"My ass is perfect, now get out," She rolled her eyes, putting on her slides before walking towards the bathroom.

"Sure is," shouted walking out of her room.

…

"I know you are not going to sit there all day," Grayson complained as Y/N sat on a beach chair, white, heart-shaped glasses sat over her eyes, a copy of 'In Watermelon Sugar' in her hands

"What is it with you and watermelons?" Grayson scoffed and Y/N rolled her eyes, the attitude filled action not being visible to Grayson due to her sunglasses

"I just like them, and they're good too," she replied back, her tone was monotone, all her emotions being poured into every word she read, "And they're cute,"

"Okay, can you just enjoy the world around you for once?" Grayson was upset that the fact that Y/N hadn't been paying attention to him ever since they arrived at the beach, she had been too busy with the book, a book that she had read more than enough times.

"Fine," she groaned, folding the corner of the page she was at a bit, an annoyed expression on her face, "What do you want to do?"

"Good just follow me," he smirked grabbing her small hand in his hand, he led her down a path, a part of the beach that was secluded away from everything, just a few adults that were laying down a distant couple of feet away, Y/N was glad she left all her important belongings in the car, not trusting a bunch strangers around her stuff.

"Look at the turtles," he smiled pointing over the small turtles that were floating and swimming around near the shore.

Y/N's hand flew to her mouth, a small giggle falling past her lips as she looked at them, "Oh god, they're so cute! I hope no one does anything to them,"

"They can't, people are watching them," Grayson explained and she nodded her head.

"Good. I can't stand people hurting animals," she huffed, she placed her hands on her hips.

Grayson finally caught a good look of her body. A mustard-yellow bandeau and high waisted swimsuit covered the parts of her body she wanted to keep private. The color matching perfectly against her golden skin, something she was thanking the bright sun for. Her hair was a loose and messy bun that sat at the top of her head, and her glasses still covered her eyes, and a small cross necklace adorned her neck, "This is cute'

Y/N took off her glasses, a smirking Grayson was standing before her, his hand slowly reaching to the waistline of her bottoms, his finger grazing the hem of them, "Real cute,"

"Thanks. I got it off Fashion Nova," she gave him an innocent smile, as she internally discombobulated, "Your shorts are cute," she chuckled looking at his shorts, just plain dark blue shorts.

"Thanks, I don't know where I got them from," his hand moved from her waistline to her actual waist, mentally groaning after he got no reaction from her again.

"Last one to get in the water has to give the other a pedicure," Y/N shouted before taking off and running towards the light blue ocean

"You cheated, you know that right?" Grayson glared at Y/N as she placed her legs on top of his.

"No rules were spoken Bailey, now get to it," she said pressing the heel of her foot against his thigh, a soft hiss escaping Grayson before he huffed.

"You don't even need a pedicure," he rolled his eyes after looking at her pedicured feet, her nails were neatly colored with a white polish, and her feet were so soft.

"Don't complain, I could've had crusty musty feet, now get to it," she groaned, she relaxed back into the couch, one he felt Grayson doing what owed her since he lost.

His brain worked rather quickly, coming up with a plan once she closed her eyes. He slowly moved his hand up to her ankle, his finger tracing the small sun tattoo she had gotten done. He remembered it was her first tattoo, getting it done on their senior trip in high school. It was a small tattoo shop in Chicago, they all had gotten tattoos with fake IDs. That day Grayson got a small door behind his knee, they were all meaningless tattoos that sometimes they regretted getting. He was now at her calf, and his plan was not working, he heard a small snore come from her mouth so he gave up before moving to her other leg.

Maybe Y/N was going to be harder to crack than he thought.

Y/N wasn't actually asleep, but knowing that if her eyes were open, they would give away her reaction to his touch, so she closed her eyes, until she actually drifted off.

This time, it wasn't Grayson knocking on her door. It was her knocking on Grayson's, a quiet 'come in' was heard so she opened the door, the sight of a shirtless Grayson in bed making her knees feel like jelly, her panties to dampen, her heart to accelerate, and her body temperature to rise.

Maybe it was the fact that they were spending a month together. Or that they haven't seen each other in months. Or simply because their bodies had changed, matured in a way.

Grayson took notice of how her tits were bigger than last time, and so was her ass. Her face was different, her lips were plump and pinker from her gloss, her lashes were longer, and her hair stopped right before her shoulders making her jawline more defined, her eyes were shiny, with a hint of something Grayson still hasn't been able to determine.

Grayson's body was buff, his biceps and every muscle defined. His hair was long, and Y/N had to say it was her favorite so far. His hands were bigger, His back had grown, but in a good way, he was taller. His body was perfectly proportioned. Not to mention that in the past two days Y/N noticed that his sense of fashion was better, wearing something other than a black t-shirt with grey boxer shorts.

"You okay? You look sick," Grayson's face filled with concern, her face flushed, a hint of embarrassment flashed in her eyes for a slight second before she shook it off.

"Yeah, my room's just really hot right now," it wasn't, it was cold, colder than his at that.

"Do you wanna stay here? With me?" she nodded her head, slipping under the covers in the space he made for her. Her body's temperature finally stabilized.

Her head subconsciously landed on Grayson's chest. His heartbeat being some sort of lullaby causing her eyes to slowly close as a wave of tiredness consumed her, "Night Gray"

"Night Y/N" he repeated before she slowly drifted off, her mind making up inappropriate and forbidden scenarios as she slept.

…

"Is it far away?" Y/N asked as Grayson drove away.

They were headed towards the secret waterfall Grayson acclaimed so much. Y/N had woken up in an annoyed mood, every single little thing bothering her right into her soul. And Grayson was not dealing so well with it, not after she glared at him for asking a simple question.

"An hour and a half," he answered and a loud groan came from Y/N, making Grayson roll his eyes.

Y/N spent the hour and a half long drive sleeping, coming in and out of her daze. Unfortunately, she was as Grayson would call it 'bitchier', after her small nap.

"Can you drop the attitude for like one second?" Grayson asked and she did nothing but send him a glare, deciding to stay quiet instead of saying something she might regret, she walked away laying her towel on the ground, sitting down, and admiring the view.

Medium sized waterfalls surrounded a small body of water at the bottom, they weren't as tall as she thought they would be, so she considered maybe jumping in them once or twice.

"Let's skinny dip," Grayson suggested standing in front of Y/N, a loud laugh coming from her throat.

"Are you crazy? Out of your mind much," She shook her head, leaning down on her towel.

"There's no one around, so why not," Grayson shrugged, she turned her head to look around.

There wasn't a single soul there, except theirs of course, "Fine. But turn around, no peeking," she finally gave in.

There was nothing to lose, well only if someone decided to go to the waterfall, at the same time.

She slowly peeled her yellow bottoms off, followed by the top part of her bathing suit, and if anyone was secretly watching, her body would be fully exposed to them, "Okay, your turn," her shyness suddenly went a wave.

She was starting to crave pleasure. Things she was sure only Grayson could give her, or what she thought he could, "You could peek now," Grayson turned around, jaw slightly dropping at the sight of his naked best friend.

"Hello? We don't have all day," she snapped her fingers in his face, a small smirk on her face, "Okay never mind," she began to turn around before a pair of arms scooped her up.

The skin on skin contact sent shivers through her body as a squeal left her throat, "Grayson don't you fucking dare," she shouted.

It was too late, before she knew it she was being carried up to the surface, a loud gasp left her lips once she was able to breathe, "What the fuck is wrong with you," she shouted, smacking his chest softly.

Grayson's eyes changed. His honey-colored eyes no longer being present, a pair of dark, lust-filled eyes replacing them instead. In a matter of seconds his hand lightly wrapped against her throat, and her back was placed against a soft rock, "I'm fed up of all your attitude, and of your fucking teasing," his voice was rough and deep.

Deeper than she's ever heard before, and Grayson's voice sure got deep when he was upset.

"Mhm," she nodded her head, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Bubbles filled her stomach as she wondered what would happen next.

"Words baby, I need words," he muttered against her neck, a small and quiet moan came from the feeling of his big, and rough hands traveling around her bare body.

"I wanted your attention, like the whore I am," she pouted, his lips placed slow and sloppy kisses around her neck and shoulders, his hands squeezing her ass making her head drop back in response.

"You're a whore for me, aren't you?" His voice was teasing-, almost mocking her. Mocking her for being such a whore for him, "What do you want Y/N?"

It was the way he said her name again. Everything but innocence was found within his voice, what did she want? She didn't know. Not being in the right headspace to make a decision as to what she wanted Grayson to do for her, she shrugged, letting out a quiet 'don't know'.

"I guess we'll just go with what I want then," he shrugged before wrapping his arms under her knees, lifting her up so that her lower half was above the water and her ass was sitting on the rock, right in front of his face, he looked up at her, eyes filled with hunger and lust, he turned his head to the side, a nod coming from her to let him know she wanted it too.

"You don't know how long I waited for this," he wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her pussy closer to his face, his finger slowly rubbed against her skin, grazing past the are where she needed him and wanted him the most, "Gray-,"

He cut her off by pressing his thumb softly against her clit, "Shhh," he switched his thumb for his index finger that he previously had in his move, he rubbed it in small circles, small whimpers and breath falling past Y/N's lips.

He placed a small kiss on her clit, receiving a gasp in response. Her pussy ached with want, want for some sort of touch, "Don't make a sound," he instructed before licking a bold stripe up her folds, he slowly inserted a finger, her hand clutching onto his bicep as she bit her lip, holding back any sounds that tried to escape.

He licked his lips before slowly flicking his tongue against her clit, he inserted another finger, and this time Y/N wasn't so good at holding a moan back, the pleasure she was getting from his fingers slowly moving in and out of her, while his tongue worked wonder on her was more than enough to make her let out a loud moan that earned her a smack to her thigh.

Not getting what she wanted, she pushed her body down, only for Grayson to push his face back, a smirk on his face as she sent him a glare, she leaned down, small hand grabbing his jaw, her thumb slowly pulled his bottom lip down until it popped back up, "Stop moving and just eat me, please?" She asked, an innocent pout on her face as her acrylics slowly scratched his jaw.

Grayson didn't say anything, a determined look on his face, and Y/N knew she was done for, he slowly took his fingers out of her before quickly slipping them back in with no warning, his speed faster than before he leaned his head down, her hand moved to his hair, pulling it away for his face as a gathered up enough spit before slowly spitting it all over her cunt, his lips latched onto her clit with no mercy, tongue circling it, as loud moans left her lips, "Gray, Gray, more," she chanted his name as she pulled on his brown locks, her legs trying close but he pushed them away, fingers digging into her soft skin as he devoured her pussy.

"More?" he asked, he slipped a third finger in, and a loud scream came from her throat. His fingers slipped in and out of her at a fast pace, he pulled his tongue and fingers away, moving his fingers up to her clit before quickly running it, "look at you, all fucked out and I haven't even gotten started yet," he chuckled, a cocky look on his face, before she could respond he replaced his fingers with his tongue, moaning at her sweet taste sending vibrations through her body.

Her stomach began to tighten and her breaths became short. Moans turned into a loud pornographic scream as her toes curled, squirting all over his face, her vision turned white, he body trying to pull away but he locked her in with his hands behind his knees

"Grayson, Grayson fuck, fuck," the number of times she said fuck was more than what Grayson could count. Once she caught her breath she sat up, his head was between her thigh so she pulled him up, a loud and rough giggle escaping her as she pressed her lips against his lips, tasting herself, "Just wanna taste it," she muttered and he nodded his head.

"Tastes like strawberries," he mumbled before fueling pulling himself on top of her, "Wanna fuck you on this rock," he peppered kisses on her neck, long enough to leave marks on her skin, her nails scratched his back

"Do it," she whispered, she brought her hand up to her mouth, spitting in it before bringing it down to his dick. Her hand wrapped around it, slowly pumping causing small and quiet whimpers to come from Grayson's lips.

"Y/N, don't you dare," he groaned as she took her hand away, a small smile on her lips.

"Don't dare what?" She asked,  in a swift motion she flipped them over, surprising herself and Grayson on how they didn't slip off of the rock, "Actually, I just wanna swim," she shrugged, getting off of him and jumping into the water, leaving a frustrated, and angry Grayson laying naked on a wet rock.

"You coming?"  She asked before Grayson jumped in the water,  one she saw the look on Grayson's face, she took off, swimming as fast as she could, until he caught up to her, his long arms making catching her easier.

"Where were you exactly planning to go Y/N?" Grayson asked with a smirk on his face, Y/N turned her face, getting a good look around the area, noticing there was nowhere she could exactly go.

"Somewhere," She shrugged, turning back around to face him, her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the small hairs at the back of his head, his hands were right above her waist, his thumb rubbing small circles on her soft skin.

Grayson leaned his head down, pressing a small kiss below her ear, "I don't like that stunt you pulled," his teeth softly pressed down on her earlobe before he pulled away, "It wasn't very nice,"

"Too bad," She shrugged against his arms, a soft smile on her lips.

….

Y/N was in it for the night. Purposely brushing past Grayson on accident all day, saying comments that were innocent but in a way that they no longer were, looking up at Grayson will big eyes, Grayson was regretting suggesting skinny dipping, because he simply couldn't contain himself, and he could no longer do anything because people were starting to appear so they both rushed up the cliff, slipping on their bathing suits before anyone could see them.

"I had fun," Y/N smiled as she placed her bag in the trunk, they were now completely dressed, black joggers and white t-shirts hugged both of their bodies, and dirty white vans covered their feet.

"Me too, except for the part where you left me on the rock," Grayson playfully shook his head, sending her a half serious glare.

"Oh come on, the day isn't over yet," she smiled, taking a step closer to him, her hand went up to his jaw, caressing the soft skin, "Let's go home yeah,"

An hour has never gone by so slow for Grayson. Every traffic light turned red once it was his turn to go, cars kept crossing, he was letting out loud frustrated groans, nearly jumping out the car once he turned it off in the driveway, Y/N was slowly walking towards the front door until he came up behind her, hand wrapping around her neck as he turned her around, lips devouring hers as they made out against the door.

He lifted up her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he tried to unlock the door without a sight, after many attempts, he finally got the right key, unlocking the door and carrying her inside, slamming the door with his foot as he pressed her back against it, a load moan fell past her lips as he slipped his hand inside her joggers, rubbing her through her underwear.

He wrapped his arms behind her knees once again, carrying her up the stairs, loud and desperate breath coming from both of them, once Grayson reached his room he threw her on the bed, carefully climbing above her body with a hungry look on his eyes. In a swift motion he had her bottoms pulled off, "Shirt," his voice was rough as she raised her arms off, the feeling of his fingers against her stomach tickled as he took her shirt off, he sat up for a quick moment, removing his clothes faster than he's ever done before.

Y/N quickly took the opportunity to turn their body around, getting off the bed and sitting on her knees, once Grayson caught up to what she was doing he got off the bed, his hand reaching down to her jaw, thumb dragging on her bottom lip before she took it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, letting out a muffled moan, his grip around her jaw tightener, making her open her mouth, "Swallow it," he muttered after spitting in her mouth, she obliged, no questions asked.

She grabbed his dick in her hands, leaning her down and placing a small kiss on his tip causing Grayson's body to jerk, "Sorry," She giggled before spitting on it. She pumped her hand in a slow motion, slowly jerking him off, trying to get him harder before she put him in her mouth, she maintained eye contact while doing it, letting out a small giggle as Grayson internally almost lost it.

He let out a groan as she finally brought him in, the warmth from her mouth making his eyes roll back, she slowly took him in, bopping her head slightly before he took control.

He grabbed a fistful of his hair, taking a step back, his dick falling from her mouth as a line of spit connected the two, he pulled her head back so that she directly looking at him, "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you," he muttered before grabbing his dick in his hands, bringing it up to her mouth before slamming his hips against her, loud gags coming from the back of her throat, she moaned around him, making him let out a grunt.

"Fucking teasing me all day, fucking whore," he moaned as he fucked her mouth, tears forming in her eyes from the filling of his dick touching the back of her throat, he stepped back for a bit, stroking his cock with his hands to allow her to breath. Her hands reached for him, thumb rubbing over his tip before she took him back in her mouth, she had a rhythm. Take him halfway in for a couple of times before deepthroating him for a few seconds, then jerking him off with his hands. After a few minutes, Grayson was sent into oblivion, eyes closing as he came in her mouth, "Shit, fuck," fell past his lips as she giggled. He looked down at her, his cum slightly dripping from her lips before she wiped it away with her thumb, slipping it into her mouth, moaning at his taste.

"Gray?"

"Hmh," he blinked his distraction away, his mind still stuck on what only happened a few seconds ago.

"Are you finally gonna fuck me or-," her question was cut short, his hand wrapping around her neck as he slammed her on the bed. He slammed himself into her with no warning, a loud moan mixed with a gasp was her reaction.

"That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble someday," he grunted as he thrusted in and out of her, her tits bouncing with every thrust he made.

"Well, until then, I'll wait," she spoke, followed by a moan, "Fuck," her eyes paid a visit to her brain as she clawed on his back, her nails scratching the soft skin as he placed sloppy kisses along her neck and collarbone.

"Keep talking," he muttered against his skin, he brought one of his hands down to her clit making her head fall back as she let out a string of curse words.

He flipped their bodies around, her hands falling to his shoulders for support as he grabbed onto her waist, "Ride me like the good girl I know you are," his eyes stared into hers.

She grabbed onto his shoulders before she began bouncing on him, her legs feeling broken as she did so, head was thrown back, her hands moved from his shoulder to his chest, as a chuckle left Grayson's lips, he muttered some curse words that were almost inaudible as one of his hand reached for the headboard. He stared at her licking his lips before letting out a moan, "Shit Y/N, the condom," he panted and she shook her head.

"I'm on the pill," she breathed, feeling close to herself. The knot on her stomach began to tighten, 'Gray, Gray, I'm gonna cum,"

"Do it. Cu for me angel," his voice was light and airy, almost as if he was a peace.

She threw her head back before cumming around his dick, Grayson following her actions a few seconds later, they let out loud deep breaths as they came down from their highs.

Small beads of sweat formed around her forehead that wiped off her hand, she dropped down next to Grayson on the mattress, "Holyshit," she turned her head to look at him, "Please tell me we're gonna do that more often?"

"We can't stop now, we just started,"

Tag List: @blazedgraysons @evergreendolan @simplyxdolxstyles @rhyrhy462 @resilientdolan​ @guiltydols​ @onlyyyariii​ @blindedbythelightt​ @ydolanssss​ @finelinedolans​ @babey-gray​ @prettyboydolan​ @deeperdolan​ @lovingdolans​@strawberryystyles​ @grantzarrr​ {if you wanna be added just lmk :)}

A/N: I’m pretty sure this is by far, the most horrifyingly bad thing I’ve ever written. Please I haven’t written smut in over a month, I’m SORYY!!!! I hate this SO SO SO SO MUCH bye-

[slashscowboyboots]

England’s Dreaming: The Clash (Part 2)

Part 1

I’m going to be posting a little more regularly, I hope to have a Christmas fic up sometime in the near future.  Thank you for all the likes and reblogs

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ @whisperess33​ @shawolat​ @80snikki as always, if you wish to be tagged let me know

Warnings: near-fatal horniness and very deep disappointment.  And no one likes doughy balls

“You're awful quiet,” Duff murmured.

It had been quite an interesting morning.  Izzy had shown up fifteen minutes before his shift started, wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a patch with “Izzy” embroidered over his right pec and quietly asked if he could wear that on the job.  White circles swam in front of your eyes until he cleared his throat and repeated the question.

“Sure, it’s fine,” you mumbled, then put your hand over your mouth to cover a moan as you watched him lift your cakes, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of his white stomach, contrasting vividly with his low-riding black jeans, then walk out the door.

“Relax, Y/N,” Duff said, grinning like a madman.  “He'll treat your babies right.  He’s got a gentle touch.”

Since drinking before 8 am was bad form, especially on the job, you opted to close yourself in the pantry, stuffing a dish towel in your mouth while you screamed. 

Finally getting your heart rate down to normal, you began your day.  Without Izzy’s presence, the shop seemed especially empty, and you used your time making icing and scones and mentally berating yourself.

If a man eyed a woman like that, you’d call him a pig.  It’s rude to just openly stare at someone, even if they are so blatantly attractive.

You don’t have a chance with him anyway, with your preppy little sweaters and pearls.  If he wasn’t your employee, he’d never even notice someone like you.

Oh yeah, did you forget that you’re his boss?  And as professional as he seems, a workplace romance is not in the cards, even if Hell froze solid and he thought you were hot.

“Yoo hoo,” Duff said, waving a hand in front of your eyes.  “He’ll be fine.  I know the other guys left a lot to be desired, but Izzy takes his work seriously.  The only reason I didn’t recommend him first is because he was already working at the flower shop.”

You looked up at him, then pursed your lips and nodded.  Best to let him think it was worry and not terminal lust for your newest employee that was running on a continuous loop in your brain.

“And if I know Izz, and I like to think I do, he’ll throw himself into his work.  He’s single, he’s got no constraints on his time, besides playing guitar and riding his bike.  Which doesn’t run anyway.”

“He’s single?” you yelped, then the front door dinged open and the devil himself strode in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m back,” he smiled.  “Any more deliveries?”

“Well,” and your throat went dry, “you have to deliver a cake to the Martins’ birthday party at 1 o’clock.  Nothing till then.”

“What can I do?”

“Uh, there’s dishes in the sink,” you peeped, pointing to them.

“Here, Izz, catch,” Duff said, and tossed him an apron.  You were relieved it wasn’t your pink eyelet one, then Izzy shook it out and tied it on.  “LOVE MY BUNS” was emblazoned on the front of it, and Duff threw you a wily grin.

Izzy squared his shoulders.  “Y’all better love ‘em,” he deadpanned, snapping on a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

You tried not to stare at them, then concentrated on dropping food coloring in some batter.  The tie dyed cupcakes you sold were selling out faster than you could make them, but Duff had an aversion to making them for some reason, so you had to create them.  And what better way to keep your mind off Izzy’s spectacular buns?

That was easier said than done.  You noticed Izzy’d finished his dishes, then felt him before you even looked up.  He was peering into your mixing bowl, his nose nearly touching it.  “What are you making?”

You jerked your head up, and his face wasn’t six inches away, his soft lips slightly parted.  “These-these are tie dyed cupcakes.”

“Can I help you with them?”

“Uh, sure.”  You squeezed the last of the food coloring in, then dropped the liners in the muffin pan, instructing him how to fill them three-quarters full, then he slid them in the oven.  

“Thank you, Izzy.  Um, do you want to help Duff make cookies?”

Duff jerked his head.  “Can you get me the flour over there?”

Izzy grabbed it, and because he was wearing short black boots and not slip-resistant work shoes, slid on the slick floor, very nearly dropping it.  He must’ve clenched the open bag in his hands, because a big poof of it exploded right in his face. 

“Shit,” he gasped, blowing it out of his mouth.

Duff slapped the table, howling at him, and you were trying very hard not to laugh.

Izzy stuck his tongue out, coughing, and he looked so embarrassed you wanted to hug him.  “Uh, yeah, I’ll be heading upstairs now.  By the time I get cleaned up, it’ll be time to make my delivery.”  He barked out a laugh.  “I hope this doesn’t make paste when it hits water, or I’ll have dough balls.  And nobody likes doughy balls.”

Duff had been grinning since Izzy went upstairs.  “I think he likes it here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he laughed.  Izzy never laughs.”  He crossed his arms over his black safety-pinned t-shirt.  “I told you he’d be a good fit.  Hey, can I take my lunch now?  I feel the need for…..pizza.”

“Sure,” you said, and on went the pimp coat.  Even though he worked in a bakery, Duff had an overwhelming love for the pizza shop next door, and you swore he was working on duplicating their dough on his early shifts, unseen by you.

It was heavenly pizza, and you regretted not asking him to bring you back a slice, then the door chimed open and a stunning brunette woman with huge dark eyes walked in.

“Hi,” she said in a sultry voice, “is Izzy here?”

You shook your head, taking in her heavy eye makeup and micro skirt.  She was tiny, although she was wearing a sky-high pair of stilettos.  “He’s-he’s out.  I can tell him you stopped by.”

“Sure.  I’m Barbie.”  Her red lips turned up in a smirk.  “Aren’t you just precious?  I love your little rubber boots.”

“Th-thank you,” you said, hoping the floor would swallow you up.  Of course, this was the kind of woman Izzy would pursue, someone sexy, not a Shy Di wannabe. What worked to catch the attention of a stodgy middle-aged prince was very unlikely to work on an edgy guy like Izzy.  You knew that.

And standing in front of you was living proof.

“So, anyway, tell him I came by.  And here,” she threw a denim jacket on a table, “he left this in my car.  Bye, little rubber boots.”

[egg-emperor]

What is Eggman's favorite comfort food?

When he's eating for comfort, his favorite junk food and fast food is what he craves the most. Whether it's healthy or not is the last thing he considers when he's upset or stressed. He has a wide variety of choices with the plentiful stock in his fridge and pantry but he often wants warm food. Not only is it comforting but it makes him feel sleepy too, which can help when he has insomnia due to his troubles keeping him awake.

Sometimes just eating enough of his daily meals to fill him up and calm him down does the trick. He tries to hide his bad mood but Orbot and Cubot can tell something is up when he orders for his meal and dessert to be bigger than usual. They usually give him what he wants to avoid upsetting him further. They can also tell it's for comfort by the way he's much more relaxed when he's finished and drifts off into a food coma not long after.

But more often than not, his usual meals just won't do. So when his robots aren't aware to advise against it, he orders fast food instead, consisting of as much chicken, fries, and burgers as he wants. Sometimes he likes to relax in bed with a whole pizza to himself, followed by his favorite dessert and a few cans of soda or beer. Taking some peaceful quiet time can make him feel much better.

When his robots are aware they try to prevent him from turning to unhealthy food by suggesting things that aren't so salty and greasy like ramen, pasta, and mashed potatoes and gravy. While he doesn't like to eat soup unless it's all he can stomach when he's sick, they can persuade him to eat it then too. When he does, it's usually chicken. If the food is warm and he can still eat enough for it to have the desired effect, there's a chance he'll accept.

If nobody is there to cook for him because it's the middle of the night or he wants privacy, ordering food isn't his only option. He can also sneak to the kitchen to do some snacking. He can make his own sandwiches decently, so he makes as many as he wants with extra meat and other fillings. Sometimes he doesn't care what he's eating and just clears out the fridge and pantry of anything that's ready to eat or only needs to be heated.

He finds satisfying his sweet tooth comforting so he likes treating himself to any of his favorite desserts. When when he wants something that's easy to chew, he picks soft and creamy kinds of cake/pie, or a pack of donuts. He munches on cookies, chocolates, and popcorn for small snacks. Sometimes he finds room for these after a meal and other times he just feels like jumping right to them.

But his favorite dessert and comfort food in general is ice cream. Even when he doesn't feel like eating anything else, he can still go for it. It's easy to eat as he doesn't need to chew and he never tires of the many flavors. He often eats it right from the tub but if he still craves something warm, he pairs it with warm cookie dough or chocolate pudding. The sweet indulgence is blissful and can still have him humming in delight, even if he was upset prior.

And there are also drinks that can help him feel better too. His favorite strawberry milkshake can cheer him up and warm drinks like milk or hot cocoa will have him drifting off in no time. There are times he turns to alcohol, which he regrets if it doesn't make him forget his problems. But there are times it does successfully take the edge off things if he's lucky, so he hopes for the best.

Tea isn't as much of a favorite drink of his in general but he drinks it to soothe his stomach when he overindulges during a comforting session. Through that, he found that it also effectively relieves stress and relaxes him, which is something he didn't believe when it was recommended to him before. So he's become a bit more fond of drinking it when he's feeling down for that peaceful feeling.

[ayellowcurtain]

could you write a fic where after Britt's, Sander goes out to parties and flirts with other people again, so Robbe starts to get away from him, meeting a new alpha, but when Sander finds out he falls into jealousy and in a depressing episode, Senne searches for the only person who can help him, Robbe. yesterday I dreamed of that and who else than you can materialize it! I love this ABO fic

abo sobbe hanging out with friends at a cafe

Robbe is worried, so worried, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything. His instincts tell him, scream inside of him even, to keep a safe distance from an alpha that’s clearly struggling.

They’re basically living together since Senne brought Robbe to Sander’s place, but they’ve mostly been living in separate rooms of the gigantic flat. Robbe is sleeping on the couch after a lot of arguing with Sander about it and he’s in his bedroom, barely left the room for the past three days.

Robbe feels stupid. He should have known this would happen. Sander would have an episode and he wouldn’t know what to do. Senne insisted just him being there, where Sander could smell him, it would be helpful, but Robbe doesn’t understand how he just been here, but away from Sander could help in any way.

Maybe Britt was good for Sander because of that, she knew what to do or she left him alone and wasn’t bothered by the distance. Robbe needs to be close to Sander and this emotional distance is getting the best of him. He forces himself out of the couch, even though it’s a really good couch, can probably fit 10 Robbes lying down. It’s probably better than his own bed, but it’s still bad because he’s alone in it.

Leaning forward against the kitchen counter, Robbe tries to find a recipe that’s easy enough for him to follow. He can’t help his eyes to wander to the right, watching the bedroom door still closed, no sounds coming from the inside.

On days like this, it’s hard to separate his emotions from Sander’s, but the fact that he’s up is a good sign. Two days ago it was too much, as soon as he got inside the apartment, Sander’s emotions occupied every inch of his body, they were all over the place and it was overwhelming, even more than overwhelming, it left Robbe in shock, not knowing what to do with himself. Robbe couldn’t stop crying, feeling hopeless, not knowing how to help and to make it stop for both of them.

As he’s putting the homemade pizza dough in the oven, he suddenly feels relaxed, a little more awake and he hears the shower being turned on inside Sander’s bedroom. He should rush to finish their dinner so it’s ready when Sander comes out, but he stops again, sitting on the big marble island, needing to use this to relax too, and so he closes his eyes, almost feeling how his skin would feel with the steamy air wetting his soft skin after hours of sleeping under heavy comforters.

He’s seen Sander take a shower enough times to be able to imagine it perfectly. His head down, letting the water hit the back of his head, his muscles contracting a little as he takes slow and deep breathes in and out. Robbe wishes he was there to kiss him for a minute or two under the hot and relaxing water.

He thinks about sneaking inside the bedroom to collect the dirty clothes, maybe change the sheets if he has time, but he can’t bring himself to stop daydreaming of better days. And if he got closer to the bedroom, the bed still warm from Sander’s body, smelling like him, Robbe wouldn’t resist the urge to lie down and stay there.

He opens his eyes as he stops hearing the water from the shower, he swallows hard and slips back to the floor, trying to think where he stopped with their dinner.

Sometimes Robbe wonders if this is the best for both of them: to be together. It feels like a lot of work and he doesn’t want to bother Sander, Robbe just wants him to have a good, chill life. Maybe he should have kept his distance once the other guy showed up. He was an easy way out, away from Sander, but Robbe doesn’t know how to resist his own feelings. He loves Sander and that’s it. Nobody else.

Robbe opens the two-door fridge, looking for tomatoes to make a fresh sauce, maybe more cheese, some dressings. As he’s putting everything on the counter again, he hears the bedroom door being unlocked.

Sander walks with his head down and his shrunken shoulders. He comes closer and closer and Robbe steps back until his back hits the island and Sander is really not the clingy type, but Robbe lets him be, sinking it all in, sighing as he sits on the island again and Sander buries his face against his neck. His body is heavy, relaxed against Robbe’s and he slowly puts his arms around Robbe’s waist, not really touching him.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against the neck and Robbe tries to hold back the shivers going down his body, playing gently with Sander’s hair.

“I missed you too, but I can wait…” Robbe kisses Sander’s temple, looking at how his hair is still a little damp on the tips and in the back of his head, “I made pizza for us!”

Sander nods his head but doesn’t answer, moving his face just to bury his nose even deeper against Robbe’s neck, taking a deep breath in. He’s relaxed, comfortable, but still melancholic. He wants to hug him so tightly, but Robbe is not sure if Sander is really comfortable for that type of touch now.

“I still need to put cheese and let it melt for a little inside the oven. Can you help me?”

It takes a moment, but Sander finally moves away from his neck, his eyes still mostly closed, sighing and looking at Robbe.

“Yeah, of course.” He sounds annoyed, but also kind of pleased.

“You don’t have to…” Robbe says softly, smiling, and trying to comb Sander’s hair out of his face.

“I know, but if I don’t force myself to do something now, it’ll take double the time to end this…”

Robbe nods his head even though he’s not sure he should agree with that. Sander forcing himself to do something doesn’t sound the best way to go about things, about his episodes when just a few hours ago he was still very much inside his own head, not thinking clearly.

“I know how much I can push, don’t worry,” Sander answers all his doubts and Robbe smiles kindly, jumping off the counter, feeling Sander’s eyes following him as he opens the oven, taking their pizza doughs out, crispy and looking like bread, just like he likes his pizzas to look like.

He shows and tells everything he’s doing like Sander is a student and he’s the best pizza maker ever. Sander helps him slice some cheese and put some extra sauce on his, listening to Robbe while he tries to tell him how the last couple of days went, hoping to help Sander distract himself.

“I think we did well,” Robbe says, looking at the two plates with two perfectly cooked cheese pizzas with tomatoes on the top ten minutes later. Sander doesn’t feel like a fancy dinner, so they’re going to eat sitting on the island, drinking iced water that Sander loves so much.

“Didn’t know you could cook.” Sander kisses the top of his head and Robbe looks at him, smiling, gently touching his face with his fingertips, so happy to have him awake and present.

“I learned tonight.” Robbe grabs his phone, sitting on the kitchen island since this morning when he talked to Senne, and he takes a picture, sending it to all their friends, instantly getting a bunch of replies of how good it looks, a bunch of happy emojis, probably happy about being two plates, not just one.

They eat in silence, it’s a good type of silence. Robbe doesn’t need anything else. His insecurities can be dealt with later, but he forgets Sander can feel what he feels just like Robbe did with him this whole week.

“I love you. Thank you for staying. You don’t know, but everything is a lot easier to deal with when you’re around.” He looks at Sander, avoiding to meet his eyes, finishing his pizza. And Robbe smiles, kissing his jaw, putting his pizza aside to finish later, it’s much more interesting watching Sander right now.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Dating Wanda Maximoff

-You were the snarkiest piece of shit in the whole tower.

-You flirted with everybody. But there was one girl in particular you loved to make all flustered. -The entire team noticed how you two would always tease each other, send each other winks and such.

-They had never seen you act unconfident in the slightest or listen to others. You went by your own rules and that was that.

-That was until you got hurt. -You ran into a collapsing orphanage to get a child out of there after you heard her cries, but more missiles hit it and even with your advanced healing and advanced regular human abilities you still got pretty damage.

-Cap found you with your body shielding the child, he got the little girl and Bucky picked you up to take you back to the quinjet.

-Wanda greeted you two, she prepped the table and got Bucky to lay you down, she began to cut your suit open to get to any major wounds (you had quite a bit).

-You smiled, ignoring the stiffness of the muscles in your cheek, "you know if you wanted my shirt off, you could've just asked."

Not a single blush, or even a reaction that she heard you except for, "shut the fuck up Y/N." The rest of the team was surprised to hear her swear, swear at you of all people. But they were even more surprised to see you listen to her.

-You passed out eventually from the blood loss and just being tired from fighting enemies all fucking day. You had no idea that Wanda never left your side, even when Steve offered to watch you to which Wanda responded with her powers shutting the door softly in his face. Bucky scoffed, "what's with her? Y/N's going to be fine." "She's in love Buck, she won't leave her. I don't blame her."

-You woke up to find Wanda wearing black sweats, her feet clad in fuzzy socks and her resting, curled up in the chair asleep. Your heart ached, she didn't look comfortable.

-Your hand was gripped in hers, the second you squeezed it she woke up. Her eyes wide and scanning over every inch of you. "Y/N! You're awake!"

-"Hey girly." You said squeezing her hand and she squeezed back, "please tell me how long you've been here."

She shrugged, "since you got here."

"And how long ago was that?" You asked quirking your eyebrow.

She looked you right in the eyes, "two days ago, Bruce said you were fine but I didn't-"

"Darling, you don't have to explain yourself, especially to me."  You sighed thoughtfully and leaned your head into your pillow, "can I ask you something?"

"You just did." She smiled, "but sure."

"When I get cleared to leave, will you go on a date with me?"

Her eyes widened and you hurried, "I've...I've just had feelings for you for a while now and nows as good as a time as any to ask you. If you don't want to that's okay too." You were terrified for her reaction, your anxiety bubbling up rapidly.

She smiled, "did I just hear the Great Y/N stutter?" She held her free hand over her chest, "I'm so honored."

"Wandaaaaa," you whined playfully. "You're leaving me hanging here."

She leaned forward and pecked your cheek, "yes I'd love to."

You smiled, you weren't sure who leaned in first but you two were kissing. Her lips tasted soft and like strawberries. Your new favorite flavor. You two were so caught up in your little moment that you didn't notice the heart monitor speed up until Bruce came running in. You two pulled apart and looked at him like "what do you want?"

He panted, "no hanky panky until Y/N's healed, her heart nearly exploded just from that kiss." Then he walked out of the room leaving you two a giggling mess. -The date (a month later) went fantastic. You two could be seen around the tower cuddling, kissing, flirting and just being stupid all the time.

-She's very used to your filthy comments especially when you wrapped your arms around her waist, your chest pressed against her back and your breath hot on her ear as you said, "I wonder if you taste as sweet as you act."

-Fun little scent fact: Wanda always smelled like black cherry

-Her accent also made you weak in your knees, she could say the sassiest thing and you would still be weak from that accent of hers.

-Tony says you're whipped then Pepper pops in and says something and he has the exact same reaction as you do when you hear Wanda's Sokovian accent.

-She cooks for you all the time, she loves making you Sokovian dishes including her favorite: Chicken Paprikash. Even though at times she uses a dash of too much Paprika you love how happy she gets when you enjoy her cooking.

-You cook for her too, except your cooking really isn't homemade, it's store bought pizza dough and pizza sauce with cheese put together. But she loves it and you nonetheless.

-Although your baking is her favorite thing, when she found out you baked she said, "the big ole bad Y/N. Baking homemade cupcakes for her best friends birthday."

"You tell Nat these are homemade, you won't get any sex from me for a month." You then finished off your threat whilst licking the spoon.

She did not tell Nat they were homemade.

-You had a secret soft side that nobody, not even the avengers knew about except her. You owned ducky footie pajamas and broke them out to make Wanda laugh once.

-You once cried at a happy dog commercial because the dog was a happy pupper.

-Although your relationship seems confident, there are insecurities to worry about.

-She was worried she was a monster, that she wasn't worthy of you. When she brought it to your attention you said, "baby, if you're a monster then I'm a monster. We all have darkness my love." She told you all the lives she's taken, volunteering for Struckers experiments and all that. Then you shared what you have done and who you've killed. She responded back, "I guess the monster in me, loves the monster in you."

-Since that talk you two grew way closer, sure you two were already girlfriends but that conversation solidified the bond. Even if you two broke up, you knew you'd still be a part of each others lives.

-People didn't expect you two to make such a great pair, but after all, opposites attract.

[the-godparticle]

Tag game!

prepare to be amazed by the beauty that is me @xwing-baby 🥰

what was the last thing you put in your mouth?

gotta have my VAPE... i just had some water and it was cold and refreshing. thx

do you sleep naked?

only when absolutely demolished. black out drunk me likes to get in the shower and just stand there, but she doesn’t have the energy to put on clothes once she gets to bed

worst physical pain you’ve ever been in?

i wish i could say it’s when i got shot with one of those air soft rifles with metal pellets, but i think it’s probably when i got food poisoning. i was in foetal position for hours

favourite place you have been?

despite my hate for heat, maybe puerto vallarta or chicago. not that it was hot when we went to chi-town

how late did you stay up last night?

i rarely know what time i go to sleep. i don’t keep a clock in my room bc the ticking pisses me off and the light from digitals also piss me off

if you could move somewhere else where would it be?

i’d like to go up north. maybe south city san francisco. i’d also had fun in boston, washington dc, and cincinnati

when was the last time you cried?

LIKE AROUND 4.30PM TODAY. NICK AND JESS LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK THEM SO LONG TO STOP BEING DUMBASSES AROUND EACH OTHER LIKE Y’ALL WERE TOGETHER WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT

profile picture?

my instagram icon pic i drew of din “the tin man” djarin using the dog filter

if you could talk to anyone right now, who would it be?

if i say past me, would that be cheating? i just want to tell her things get better and to keep her passion strong and burning. she had a lot of it, but was put down by people that should have helped cultivate it

are you a good influence?

absolutely not. i’ve a penchant for speaking/doing before thinking, i can be hypocritical, and i’m lazy and selfish. i sure hope nobody looks to me for guidance or as a role model bc man they’d be making a terrible mistake

does pineapple belong on pizza?

i hate this debate. put whatever you want on your ‘za so long as there’s the dough, cheese, and sauce. i really couldn’t care less

i am on team pineapple on pizza tho

you have the remote. what show would you have on?

depends? been trying to finish new girl lately. need to finish ratched, haunting of hill house, and i may destroy you. i’ve a lot of my watch list, but i keep getting distracted by youtube so

first concert?

JESSE MCCARTNEY, BABYYYYYY. the only thing i remember is my aunt taking us to get mcdonald’s beforehand tho

favourite foods?

hamburgers. i’m an american, gotdamnit... and cheesecake

when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

a palaeontologist. my 3rd grade teacher let us do an activity where we excavated these leaves in hardened clay to see the imprints it made. it blew my wee baby brain... that and i love jurassic park and wanted to be like Dr Grant

if y’all would be so willing/have yet to have done this

@cryptkeepersoul @mxndoscyarika @spacegayofficial @keeper0fthestars @pettyprocrastination @maxlordd @mylifeliterally @ezrasarm @goldafterglow

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 13 | Morgan Rielly

TW: alcoholic parent; homelessness

Briony was alone.

Morgan was somewhere between Carolina and Tampa Bay.  She was 17 floors above Toronto in a condo building.  The lights from the skyscrapers illuminated the tranquil night sky around her as she stood looking out her window.  At 2am, there wasn’t much noise from the city below, despite being near one of the busiest intersections.  She could feel the still, cold air of the night near her feet, the slightest draft coming in from outside.  Everything was peaceful.  Everything was serene.

Despite the stillness of the night, she couldn’t sleep.  She wasn’t able to put her mind at ease since that morning, when she moved everything into the apartment.  All she really had to do was hang up clothes, since everything else was furnished and provided, but when she was done there was still a sense of…restlessness within her.  Now that she was alone, and not with Aryne, Lucy, Ashley, Angie, or any combination of the four, her mind began to reminisce on the past ten days.  Even then, the past eighteen years.

Her first vivid memory was singing “Itsby Bitsy Spider” to her mother on the steps of a house she never lived in again.  Sharon was sitting on a lawn chair, jean shorts and a tank top on, tanning in the sun.  Briony had asked her if she wanted to hear her sing, and Sharon didn’t respond, so Briony just went for it.  On the floor near where her mother’s hand dangled, a case of beer sat waiting to be consumed.  When Briony finished the song, her mother looked at her through her sunglasses, said nothing, and took a long sip of beer.

Briony could remember every house they lived in.  In a notebook she used to have, she had written down every address that became their temporary home.  She remembered the rooms her mom’s “friends” would provide them in between them waiting for public housing units. She remembered each apartment they lived in thanks to Toronto Community Housing.  She remembered the rooms at the homeless shelters they would stay in; the bigger rooms provided for them because they were a “family” versus the smaller rooms provided for them when it was winter and busy and so crowded that they only reason they got a room in the first place was because they were considered a “family”.  She remembered sleeping on the floor and using her school backpack as a pillow while her mother took the only bed.  Briony lost count at somewhere around twenty-five different living situations.  She never counted recurring visits to the same homeless shelter as different.  

Briony could remember the smell of alcohol whenever she would come from school.  It was either alcohol or cigarette smoke – sometimes a mix of both – and for a while she wondered if she’d ever be able to get the stench out of her clothes.  She could remember the first time she recognized a branded bottle of vodka on the coffee table.  The clear liquid was always more important to Sharon than anything Briony ever had going on.  It was more important than curriculum nights, than parent-teacher interviews, than toasting some bread for breakfast, than preparing a packed lunch for school, than making dinner, than tucking her into bed at night.  It was the reason why her teachers gave her granola bars during recess, the reason some teacher she didn’t even know packed an extra sandwich for her to eat so she’d have a lunch.  It was the reason she’d have to walk home everyday, regardless of how far the school was from the house or if it was raining or snowing.  It was the reason why teacher after teacher would speak to her privately and ask her “Is everything alright at home?” and she’d have to look them dead in the eye and lie and say “Yes”, because the despite the severe alcoholism, the thought of her as a small child being separated from her mother was scarier than just dealing with it.  Sharon always told her life would be worse for Briony if they were separated and Briony chose to believe her.  She didn’t want to become a ‘system’ kid, lost and shuffled around until a family deemed her worthy of staying with them.  Alcohol shaped Briony’s entire worldview as a child of how adults functioned.  Alcohol gave Sharon an excuse not to be a mother, to love something other than her child.  Alcohol prevented them from every having a normal, functioning, mother-daughter relationship.  Alcohol killed any hope Briony had in Sharon of ever overcoming her addiction issues.  

Briony could remember the day of the emancipation.  She had provided the court with enough evidence against her mother, and the court ruled in her favour.  In Ontario, she technically didn’t even need the court’s permission – she could have just left – but Briony wanted to make sure her mother, however lazy, couldn’t come back legally and claim something.  It was a long and strenuous process, but she got what she wanted.  Truthfully, she probably got what Sharon wanted too – to not have to care about another person anymore.  Briony could take care of herself.  She always did, anyway.  When she left the courtroom, Sharon looked at her.  “I wasn’t a bad mom, you know,” she said to Briony, and that’s when Briony knew there was no saving her.  Those were the last words Sharon said to her.  Briony said nothing back.

Because of all this, moving was her normal.  It was a miracle that she was even able to keep the same apartment in the Annex for a few years.  Moving was her constant.  So when she moved into this condo now, sleeker than anything she’d ever been in, bigger that anything she’d ever lived in, it felt somewhat normal - somewhat because she wasn’t moving into a rooming house, or a shelter, or a subsidized apartment.  It was a fresh start.  She wasn’t going back to her past.  

But that’s why her past was brought to her mind.  

Briony knew her childhood wasn’t normal.  She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her that.  But after leaving her mother, she tried to make her life as normal as possible.  She tried to put her past behind her.  But with the break-in, her past had crept up on her again.  She knew break-ins happened to a lot of people, but she couldn’t help but wonder why it kept happening to her; what bad luck she had stuck on her to have this happen again.  The only exception was this time she had a support network.  She had Angie and Mason, her best friends.  She had Morgan, soft, strong, beautiful Morgan.  She had Aryne and John; Jake and Lucy; Naz and Ashley – people willing to help her get through this so she didn’t have to be alone.  

Despite the mix of emotions, and despite the feeling plaguing the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t call anybody.  A part of her didn’t want to call anybody.  She had always handled these feelings on her own, and even though she had a support network now, she knew sometimes it was going to stay that way.  She could get through this herself, as she always did; the mix of emotions, the feeling of restlessness, the recollection of her childhood.  Nobody could truly understand what she had been through, and what it took for her to overcome the negativity surrounding her constantly.  She was strong, and kind, and diligent, and a hard worker, and she knew she could handle this because she had done so before.  

So instead of calling Angie or Morgan, she lay down on the floor.  The place she knew best.  The place she often slept growing up.  And she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake her mind, to calm her complicated thoughts.

***

“It’s a nice place,” Morgan commented as Briony finished giving him the tour of the apartment.  Finally, finally, after so fucking long, he was home in Toronto.  He had messaged almost constantly, and they have FaceTimed every day, but nothing beat having him back in the city where she could physically touch him, see him, hug him, kiss him.  “Do you like it?” he asked.

Briony nodded her head.  “It’s really nice.  I’m still a bit…I don’t know, getting used to it.  There’s a lot of room.  But it’s really nice.  You should see the view at night.  It’s really pretty with everything lit up.”

“Do you feel safe here?” he asked again.

She nodded her head quickly.  “I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.  If you don’t feel safe we’ll find somewhere else.”

“I’m not lying,” she assured him as he grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards his body so he could wrap an arm around her.  “I feel really safe here.  I’m high up, and there’s the doorman and the security system and stuff, and it’s all very high-tech.”

“Have you used any of the stuff in the kitchen?” he asked, knowing her great affinity for cooking.  They were in it now, leaning up against the counter.  “Ashley told me it’s fully stocked with everything.”

“I used the Kitchen Aid mixer to make my own pizza dough one night instead of ordering one,” she admitted, smiling.  “I’m…gonna have a lot of fun using all this stuff.”

“Good,” he smiled, bending down to kiss her and to squeeze her ass.  She yelped and giggled as he did so, and he responded by picking her up and placed her on the kitchen island, wrapping her legs around his torso.  He was looking up at her at that point, and gave her a quick kiss.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here for you during the move.”

“It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” she said, his heart breaking a little as she did.  “You have a job and responsibilities too you know.  Just like me.  We’re both adults.  I understand why you couldn’t be here.”

“I know.  But I feel like a bad boyfriend.”  At one point he seriously contemplated approaching Babs and Kyle and asking permission to take a flight back to Toronto for all of eight hours so he could make sure she was okay.  John had to talk him out of it.  

“You’re the farthest thing from a bad boyfriend,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.  She knew it calmed him, much like when he did it to her.  When they were cuddling, besides having his hands on her ass or boobs, it was usually running gently through her hair.  “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve had.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.  You really are,” she assured him.  She knew she didn’t particularly have to stroke his ego on the subject, but she wanted to make it known.  A mischievous grin appeared on her face.  “Definitely the biggest dick.”

He snorted loudly.  “I hope that’s not an exaggeration.”

“I guess you’ll never know,” she wiggled her eyebrows.  

He bit his lip before leaning in and kissing her, biting her bottom lip and dragging it with him as he pulled away.  “You’re a vixen, you know that?”  He pushed away from the counter.  “Come on, show me everything you bought.”

When he called her a vixen she thought of the lingerie she ended up buying.  Lucy was right – black did look good on her.  A few different pieces were bought, and Briony would definitely pull them out at some point – probably before he left for Christmas – but for now, she’d keep them a secret.  She had never put lingerie on for any previous boyfriends – mostly because she couldn’t afford it, but also because nobody had ever…requested it?  She didn’t know if these conversations came up with couples.  But with Morgan, she wanted to be ahead of the game.  She didn’t want him to have to ask; she wanted to give him the gift herself.  

She brought him back into the master bedroom and its large walk-in closet to see everything that was purchased for her.  He saw the different pairs of jeans, the work tops versus the casual tops, the fitted trousers and professional blazers, the work dresses and skirts.  He saw the designer pieces the girls convinced her to buy, in their own section in the closet.  He saw the new shoes, the runners, some flats and of course some heels.  He saw the new handbags, the Chanel pearl-studded crossbody, the Louis Vuitton tote, and the Yves Saint Laurent bag “for work”.  He saw the new luxurious bathrobe, the new silk pajamas, the fancy creams, shampoos, skincare, and makeup she now had.  The hair straightener.  The curler.  The good blow dryer.  

“What was it like with the girls for that?” he asked, running his fingers over a chiffon dress hanging near the end of the closet.  

She giggled slightly.  “It was an adventure,” she commented.  

“How so?”

She motioned to all the clothes hanging in the closet.  “They…we didn’t stop.”

“But that’s a good thing,” Morgan said.  “You have all this stuff now.”

“Isn’t that what it just is…stuff?” she asked.  Morgan gave her quizzical look.  “Like, don’t get me wrong.  I’m beyond grateful.  You have no idea what it feels like for me to have all this.  I never thought, in five lifetimes, that I’d ever have a Chanel bag, and now I have one.  I never thought I’d have even just a Kate Spade bag.  But I…have a Chanel bag now.  It’s all very weird, Morgan.”

“Why is it weird though?” he asked, shutting off the light in the closet as they exited.  He guided her towards her bed and sat down, pulling her on top of him so she was sitting on his lap.  “I told you before, you deserve nice things.  And yes, at the end of the day it is just stuff, but it’s nice stuff and stuff that you need.”

“Do I need a Chanel bag?”

“But you deserve it.”

“You don’t understand Morgan,” she said, shaking her head slightly.  She didn’t mean it in a bad way; she was just stating a fact.  Morgan grew up fairly rich, in a nice house in West Vancouver with both parents and a dog and membership at a country club.  She grew up in subsidized housing and rooming houses in downtown Toronto with a single alcoholic mother who relied on welfare to keep them from drowning.  His perspective on things was off in comparison to hers.  It was just the reality of the situation.  They came from two different worlds.  “You have to understand…my dreams don’t even go that far.”  

“What do you mean?” he cradled her face in one of his big hands.

“None of this was ever supposed to happen to me,” she whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek.  “I mean I worked my way to a good education and hopefully a decent job, but it’s all in an effort to achieve modesty.  I was never going to have a Chanel bag.  I was never going to have Gucci loafers.  I was preparing myself for a decent apartment, and then hopefully when I met someone and got married, like, a bungalow in North York or something.  I was never supposed to be surrounded by money.  I was never supposed to be in the position to have a one hundred and twenty dollar bottle of wine at Cibo.”

Morgan wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and gave her a quick kiss.  “I know it’s hard for you to accept all this.  I know it’s completely out of your comfort zone.  I get it.  At least, I’m trying to.  But just because you didn’t expect it, doesn’t mean you can’t accept it.”

“I know, I know.  That’s what I have to reconcile with myself,” she said.  “Somewhere along the line the universe went crazy and now I’m here.  And I have to grow and learn and adapt.  I know.  It’s going to take some getting used to but I understand that I’m here now.”  She ran her thumb along the outline of his lips, staring into his bright blue eyes.  She gave him another quick kiss.  “I still don’t feel comfortable about one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t feel right not paying them back,” she revealed.  “Ashley said she would burn any cheque or money I gave her, and Aryne and Lucy said the same, but it’s still not right.  I’m thinking I should maybe take out a loan because we spent quite the pretty penny.”

Morgan stiffened at her words but then sighed heavily.  “You don’t have to pay them back because it was me.”

She gave him a look of shock, like she couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth.  “Excuse me?”

“I gave Ashley my credit card when she dropped off Naz,” he revealed.  “Everything went on my card.  I told her to go crazy, and I knew she would, because she’s Ashley”

“Morgan.”

“And I’m gonna repeat Ashley’s sentiments.”

“Morgan,” she cried on the spot, tears streaming down her face.  “No no no no no no no,” she repeated over and over.

“Bumb--”

“Mo, how?” she wailed, trying to wriggle out of his grip.  “Wh-Wh-Wh…”

“Hey hey hey, stop,” he cooed, wiping her tears again, holding on to her tighter so she wouldn’t go anywhere.  “Briony, come on.  You actually think I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to help you?”

“Mo…”

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he wrapped his arms around her and laid down on the bed, bringing her with him so her body was laying on top of his.  “You deserve it, Bumblebee.  You’ve been through so much and this is the least I can do, okay?  Don’t think about it too much.”

Briony thought about the ramifications of his actions.  It was deliberate – on the part of everybody.  It wasn’t like he didn’t know what the girls were up to – he knew exactly.  And it wasn’t like Ashley, Lucy, or Aryne were billing him for what they spent.  Angie didn’t tell her when they went out.  No.  He had gone out of his way to give his credit card to Ashley, to tell her to ‘go crazy’, to cover every little thing she spent money on.  The girls must have given each other the credit card when Briony wasn’t looking.  She didn’t know if she should feel repulsed about the amount of money that would show up on his credit card bill.  She wanted to wrestle her way out of his arms and return everything.  She kept shaking her head.  “I’m never gonna be able to re-repay you or earn enough mon --”

“Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.  “What did I just tell you?”

“Morgan, that’s a lot.”

“And I have a lot.  So don’t.”  There was a long moment of silence.  He knew she was thinking about all the stuff she bought, mentally calculating the cost of everything.  He knew he wouldn’t even think twice when his credit card bill came.   He looked down at her before he couldn’t help but add, “It is a really nice Chanel bag.”

She squeezed her body onto his more.  She had to agree; it was a nice bag.  It was at that point she realized she wasn’t going to win.  She let out a shaky breath and realized this was her life now – at least momentarily.  She wouldn’t be going on major, life altering shopping sprees again any time soon.  “You do this for me and then I can’t even come to the Florida game tomorrow because of my last two exams.  You said you feel like a bad boyfriend but I feel like a bad girlfriend.”

“Naaaah nah nah nah,” he shook his head, placing light kisses all over her face.  “You don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.  Studying is more important that coming to my games.  Always.”

“At least I’ll be done soon.”

“Wouldn’t matter.  You could decide to go get your PhD.  School is always more important,” Morgan said.  “You’re gonna, like, rule the world Briony.  You can’t do that with me expecting you to come to all my hockey games.”

She couldn’t help but giggle again.  “If I do become supreme ruler I promise to spare you.”

“Good.  I’ll bow at your feet everyday.”

“You’ll be my Starbucks boy,” she giggled.

“WOW,” he let out loudly, causing her to laugh.  “Is that all I’m good for?  Starbucks runs?” he asked, not expecting an answer.  “You still good to go to the Marleau’s Christmas party?”

She nodded her head.  “It’s the day after exams finish.  I’ll be good.”

“And you’re still spending Christmas with Angie and her family?”  She nodded her head again.  It was her ‘tradition’ to spend Christmas with Angie, whose family had unofficially adopted her for the holiday.  After the Detroit game on the 23rd, Morgan would be catching a red-eye to Vancouver after the game to spend Christmas with his family.  She didn’t want to have to think about him leaving again, but she had solace in the fact that they would be reunited on the 29th, when he’d be back in Toronto for a game against the Islanders.  “I’ll call you,” he assured her.  “We can FaceTime on Christmas.”

“That would be nice,” she smiled.  

“And then, um, in January,” he began, his voice a little bit more hesitant than before.  “We have a bye week.  I was going to go back to Vancouver, spend some time with my family.  I was um…I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come.”

Briony’s body stiffened slightly.  Was…was he really asking her to go to Vancouver with him?  To his hometown?  To meet his parents?  “I’ll have to see if I can afford it.”

“Briony.”

She cringed slightly.  It was her go-to response for everything involving money, but these days, she needed to think of something different because of course he’d be paying for her to go with him.  It would be her first time on an airplane.  “I’d want to Morgan, but I’d have to see.  I might be job hunting or have interviews.”

“But you’d want to come.”

“Well, yeah.”

That was apparently enough for him.  He didn’t say a word more; he just kept a hold on her as his eyelids fluttered closed for his pre-game nap.  

She could only stay in his arms for so long until the ramifications of the conversation she just had crept up on her and left her unable to fall asleep beside him.  Her mind was too active for sleep.  The lengths to which he went to have her recoup everything that she lost was extravagant.  Giving his credit card to a bunch of women with healthy spending habits wasn’t…logical.  Telling them to ‘go crazy’ was crazy in and of itself.  Not blinking twice when he saw all the clothes – the Gap, the Club Monaco, the Loft, the Banana Republic, the every other store she had never shopped in before, the Chanel, the Yves Saint Laurent, the Gucci – was just outrageous.  Right?  Like, any sane person would have seen that closet full of clothes and have said, “I think that’s a bit too much.”  Right?

Why would he do this?  Why would he willingly drop all that money on her?  She was just some girl.  Some girl from Toronto.  There was nothing special about her.  She was nice and she was smart and she worked hard, but she didn’t think there was much else to her.  She could be very stubborn sometimes.  She could be too proud, especially about her education.  She could roll her eyes too often in a conversation.  She could make too many snarky comments during a conversation and put people off.  Why did he do what he did so willingly, without a second thought?  Why was he so…nonchalant about it all?

As she moved out of his arms slowly, ensuring he didn’t wake up, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and made her way to the bathroom is the second bedroom on the other side of the apartment.  She closed the door and sat on the floor before dialling Angie’s number, whom she knew was on lunch break.  

“Hi lover,” Angie answered cheerily.  

“Angie…he told me,” Bee said.  

“He told you what?” Angie asked nervously.

“He told me he gave you guys his credit card and that everything we bought, he paid for,” her voice was getting shakier the more words she said.  

“Oh.  Yeah,” Angie said.  “I was sworn to secrecy.  Is…” her voice was hesitant.  She knew her best friend was already crying.  “Bee…that’s not a bad thing.  You know that, right?  He’s helping you.”  Angie’s heart broke as she heard her best friend cry through the phone.  The sniffles and the deep breaths and the sobs she had to listen to made her physically ill.  

“He’s so good to me Angie.  Why is he so good to me?”

Bee’s voice was so frail and fragile.  “Bee…”

“Why is he so good to me?” she repeated, tears streaming down her face and sobs escaping her.  “What did I do to deserve this?  Why is he so good to me?”

“You were never meant to live a quiet, docile life,” Angie said in a soothing voice, trying to calm herself as much as she was trying to calm Bee.  “You were born for better circumstances that what you were born in to and what you grew up in.  I just wish you’d see that like everyone else around you sees it.”

“I don’t belong in this world.  Why am I living in an apartment without paying rent?”

“Bee, they’re helping you,” Angie stressed.  “You know if Mason and I had the means we’d be doing everything in our power to help you too.  They’re helping you in the way they know how.  It’s not your problem that they’re using their disposable income to help you.”

“But I’m not…I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it,” Angie said firmly.  “I don’t give a fuck what your absolute disgrace of a mother would tell you growing up, but you’re worth every fucking penny, every fucking ounce of effort anyone puts into having a relationship with you.  Do you hear me?  If I ever saw your mother anywhere I would fucking kill her for instilling this sense of worthlessness in you and for making you think like you don’t deserve anything or that you don’t belong somewhere.”

“Angie, I don’t want this without you,” Bee cried.  

“Bee, you’re not losing me.”

“I don’t want to change so much that you don’t recognize me, or I don’t recognize where I came from anymore,” Bee said.  “Money changes people, Angie.  I don’t want it to change me.”

“Money won’t change you, Bee.  You have strong principles.  Just because your boyfriend and his friends have money it doesn’t mean that it’s going to change you.  If anything, it might change him.  Might make him and those around him more grateful.”

“I don’t know…”

“Bee, you’re his girlfriend because of your character.  Everything else is secondary.  He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t head over heels for you,” Angie explained.  “I know you guys have only been seeing each other a few months, but I’ve never seen you this way with another person.  You have to let go of any insecurities that you have that revolve around him having money and you not having money because that shit doesn’t matter to Morgan.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.  I don’t know what God or what entity decided to have this become my life,” Bee said.  “I don’t want to lose you Angie.  You’re the only family I have.”

“You’re never going to lose me.  We’re going to be 90 years old with walkers and fake teeth in the same nursing home telling each other the same jokes we laugh about today,” Angie assured her.  “I love you, Bee.  You’re the sister I never had.  I’m never going to leave you.”

“I love you too Angie.  So much you don’t even know.”

[lansdellicious]

Burger & Brew Fest 2020, Round 1 - Piatto Midtown

We’re baaaaaack! When The Overcast folded this time last year, I was very worried that our annual February feast of the Burger Battle would fall to the wayside. For a while it certainly seemed that way, but Destination NL and Quidi Vidi Brewery took up the mantle with this replacement. It might not be perfect in its first year, but with 36 burgers to try and some first-time entrants I certainly won’t be complaining! Without delay, we jumped in (for the second year in a row) at Piatto Midtown (each branch has a different burger this year) for the Four O’clock Meeting: “ Haricot Farms ground beef, seasoned and cooked to perfection. We add balsamic glazed Portobello’s in a Five Brothers Avalon cheddar & QV cappuccino stout cheese sauce; Then Chinched pancetta, crispy fried banana peppers, parm aioli and BBQ sauce. All of this on a baked-to-order bun, straight out of our wood-fired oven, made from our Neapolitan pizza dough. “

Let’s start with that bun. For the second year straight they went with a pizza dough bun, but this year they trimmed the excess dough and it vastly improved everything. Pizza dough burger buns, for the record, are phenomenal. There’s something about the softness of the dough that just compliments a burger so well. 

The likely star of this burger though was that balsamic portobello cheese sauce. I’ve never used the word “unctuous” in my life, but this sauce was unctuous. I would not have guessed that balsamic glaze would pair well with a cheddar sauce, but oh my heavens did it ever. This isn’t the first time that the QV cappuccino stout has been used in a sauce, and each time it has delivered. TO the surprise of nobody the pancetta was delicious, but the crispy banana peppers were a pleasant surprise. Generally I find banana peppers to be too strong on the pickled taste, leaving them providing little but vinegary heat. The frying process seriously reduced that vinegar taste, leaving the small kick of heat and a nice burst of flavour that contrasted well with the somewhat sweet cheese sauce.

It was only on re-reading the description of this burger that I realised it was supposed to also have a parmesan aioli and BBQ sauce. While the latter could easily have been lost with the QV stout in the cheese sauce, I cannot imagine many flavours completely overpowering parmesan. Maybe it was omitted, maybe it was a small amount, but that flavour was definitely absent from my bites.

I do want to add here that, in the past, Piatto has been guilty of overcooking their burgers. They avoided that this year, as both Sarah and I had a nice amount of pink in the middle and there was no dryness to be found. Still a good sear on the outside though. Also a word to the wise: this one is messy. You will need extra napkins. And it will be worth it.

It’s possible that going first does a disservice to Piatto, as the 35 (gulp) that follow it will all be fresher in the memory. They have generally been middle of the pack, never giving us a dud but never really blowing my mind either. This year is their strongest so far for me, so we shall see how that holds up. The ingredients might sound outlandish to the traditionalists out there, but the whole package works together so well that you are doing yourself a disservice by not trying it. 

[littlecrookedheart]

Imagine • Prompt Request One Shot

Prompt : “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” / “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed”

Requested by some anons!

Pairing : Maxwell x Farrah

Rating : None! Pure fluff.

Word Count : 2,561

Author’s Note : This variates from canon but...most of my stuff does? I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer : I do not own these characters. I’ve added a bit of a flare to them for the sake of this piece, but they do not belong to me.

Typically, during these hours the castle was still, even the staff remained quiet as they dozed off sitting upright at their stations, security being the only select few ridden with energy. But tonight, as it had been for nearing a week, one man roamed the halls, clanking around the kitchen for a late night snack, slipping across the polished floor on the balls of his feet.

At the foot of the staircase, just before the turn into the kitchen, a stout man with graying hair and a long moustache sat at his position, shining a row of shoes.

"Lord Beaumont," he nodded, his nose whistling as he breathed.

"Just Maxwell, Grover. No formalities necessary."

"As you wish, 'Just Maxwell.' May I suggest something?"

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and smiled to the man, who looked up to him over thinly rimmed copper frames.

"If you'd like to continue these midnight walks through the halls, perhaps you'll wear shoes. You slide so quickly 'round the corners, I fear you'll knock your head into the wall."

Maxwell chuckled softly, sticking one foot into the air, admiring his doughnut printed socks.

"They're so fashionable, though."

"It would be more so a tragedy if their owner could only wear them while in an infirmary, yes?"

"Good point, Groves," Maxwell said, giving him a small salute. He peeled his socks off, leaving them in a bundle at the bottom step, making his way into the kitchen.

"What's for breakfast, Marjorie?"

Marjorie, a young girl with braided blonde hair, blushed from behind a large bag of flour, slowly peeking around to see his face. She was small and likely ten years his junior, but there was no doubt she awaited his company each day. She never said much, and neither did he, but he made it a point to share a smile with her as often as possible.

"Can you believe it, Maxwell? Queen Mother has requested berries and waffles yet again."

Maxwell hopped onto the counter, grabbing a handful of chocolate chips from a nearby tin.

"I don't mind that, so long as I get some, too."

Marjorie's lips curved into a small smile, looking away as she said, "Yes, but you aren't the one who leaves for the day smelling of frying oil."

"You fry the waffles?"

"Yes?"

Maxwell's forehead creased, a grin spreading across his face as he shrugged. "You learn something new every day." He slid off the counter, walking over to the pantry doors. "But you know why I'm here. Do you mind, Marjorie?"

"Of course not. Just be sure to let King Liam know to clear my panel so I'm not accused of stealing."

"Have I ever forgotten?" Maxwell smiled, grabbing a plate of saran wrapped cookies from a higher shelf. "Are these fresh?"

"They're from this evening, yes."

"I'll take these. Thanks, Marj. Gotta take these to Farrah."

"Lady Farrah is up so early? Today's festivities don't begin for six more hours."

"She's an early riser," he lied, rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairway, handing Grover a cookie as he passed by.

Farrah's room was second to the end of the hall, a far walk, one that socks helped speed up. The sound of Maxwell's feet on the floor made him cringe, but he didn't care enough to back track to his own room for slippers. He knocked four times, nearing a fifth before the door flew open, Farrah's face riddled in confusion.

"Morning, sunshine!" He said, squeezing in through the crack in the door. Farrah rolled her eyes, locking the door behind him and flipping on the switch to her bedside lamp. Maxwell had already propped himself in her bed, unwrapping the cookies.

"What time is it, Max?"

"Late. Or early, depending on how you'd like to see it."

"What I'd like to see is me asleep in that bed."

Maxwell smiled at her, gazing at her in awe. He adored the way the waves in her hair scattered across her shoulders, a few flyaway strands poking up from her head. She always seemed to glow in the morning, so soft and beautiful he couldn't believe it.

"Come sleep, then." He patted the bed beside him. "Or have a cookie. I grabbed these for us."

"What did you need, Max?" She asked, climbing into bed next to him.

"The truth or a lie?"

She glared at him and he laughed, ruffling her feathery locks in his hand. She grabbed his arm, reading the watch fastened around his wrist.

"I just kinda...wanted to cuddle."

"You come to my room and wake me up at four in the morning...to cuddle?"

He nodded, eyes widened like a puppy dog, lower lip pouting. Farrah drowsily smiled, handing Maxwell the plate of cookies and sliding over to him. She lay her arm across his chest, head on his shoulder, lulling herself to sleep to the sound of his heart beat.

And then a crunch, cookie crumbs raining down his shirt and onto her sheets.

"Aw, damn it, Max. You're getting crumbs all over my bed."

"Sorry," he mumbled, holding a hand to his lip.

"Bite it?"

He nodded, wincing. Farrah got up and made her way to her en suite, gathering a warm washcloth and healing salve from the cabinet. She sat next to him, soothing and tending to his bloody lip.

Maxwell caught the hazel reflections in her eyes, holding in a dreamy sigh as she softly dabbed his lip with the tip of her thumb. Her lips looked like roses, supple with morning dew, shining in the lamplight as she spoke to him.

"Next time, come to bed with me, and you won't have to sneak around so late for a cuddle."

"Maybe I like the sneaking," he teased, pulling her to him.

"I mean it. Come to bed with me."

"Farrah...you know the castle will be in talks the moment the lock clicks."

"So let them be," she whispered, drawing his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

"We aren't in New York. Cordonia...expects...more from us."

"Can I be honest?" She asked, Maxwell's hand caressing her hair.

"Of course."

"I hate that."

"Me too." Maxwell sighed, breathing in the fresh coconut scent of her hair. "If I could write our story, there would be so many nights where I just held you."

"Why can't we? I mean.. I know why. But convince me to believe it."

"There's nothing that can convince you. Nothing convinces me. But we do what we have to."

"Don't you get sick of playing by these rules?"

"I'm sick of anything that prevents me from loving you to the fullest."

Maxwell held her close to him, draping a knit quilt around her shoulders.

"Let's play the imagine game," he whispered, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"You first."

His fingers ran along the length of her back and to her neck again, gentle yet secure.

"Okay. Imagine...we could skip festivities today."

"Oh my god, please. What would we do?"

"Play cards in the sitting room at the Beaumont estate. You could teach me how to bake. I could give you my best Jerry Maguire impression."

"I've seen that impression, I think."

"Would you say it's...impressive?"

"Well, now I'm not going to."

"Wow! Sometimes, Farrah, I don't know how I fell in love with a bully like you."

Farrah laughed, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"Imagine we could buy a little house somewhere far away. Somewhere on the beach, maybe."

"We could watch the turtles."

"And eat so much ice cream."

"In fairness, I already eat a lot of ice cream," Maxwell said, reaching to grab another cookie. This time, Farrah grabbed it away from him, shoving the whole thing into her mouth. Maxwell bent his brows and burst into laughter before saying, "They're really good, right?"

"Does Marjorie still have a crush on you?" She asked, leaning to her bedside stand for a drink of water.

"Are you still jealous?"

"I've never been jealous, you goon, just observant. I think she made these cookies for you, they might be perfect."

"I've never met a cookie that I didn't like."

"True," Farrah smiled, "This could be pre-made dough and you'd love it."

"What?"

"It's a joke, Max."

"Pre-made?"

"You know, the tube kind."

Maxwell looked into space, a confused expression on his face.

"Tube cookies?"

"You can't be serious! You've never seen pre-made cookie dough?"

"What does that even mean!" Maxwell cried, dramatically chomping two cookies at once.

"Imagine a life where my fiancé didn't litter my silk sheets with cookie crumbs."

“Imagine a boring life, why don’t you?”

Farrah took the plate of cookies and walked them to the other side of the room, jumping on the bed, Maxwell’s strong hands catching her mid air. She pulled his shirt off and nestled her head on his chest, meeting his gaze.

“Hi,” he whispered, kissing her forehead sweetly.

“Hey,” Farrah sighed, filling the spaces between his fingers with her own.

“Imagine sitting in a cute little café where nobody recognized either of us.”

“Or how about…adopting a sibling for Chance?”

Maxwell’s face lit up at the idea. “How about two?!”

“Dare I say three?”

“Dare. But not four, that’s so much puppy love. I don’t know if I could keep up.”

“I have no doubts. Hmm, what if we went in one of those underwater tunnels to watch the fish swim all around us?”

“We could order pizza and watch reruns of Fresh Prince all day.”

“That sounds like a dream.”

Farrah listened to Maxwell ramble off ideas for while before drifting to sleep, the sound of his voice carrying her off like a lullaby.

Maxwell looked down, hazily brushing fallen strands of hair from her eyes before closing his as well.

–

In the morning, a quiet, repetitive knocking sound came from the door. Maxwell clamored over, opening it to reveal Marjorie.

“Maxwell, you’ve missed all of your morning calls, breakfast, and your ride. Your brother was so preoccupied with a phone conversation that I’m not so sure he noticed. I’ve let you sleep a bit, but I thought I’d try to let you know.”

“What? What time is it?”

“Nearing noon.”

“We slept…two hours…past time to leave?”

Marjorie nodded, a solemn look on her face.

“Thanks, Marj. You’re the best.” He closed to door, hopping into bed next to Farrah.

Her eyes opened slowly, becoming more alert when she noticed the amount of sun soaking through the curtains.

“What time is it?”

“Time to skip today’s festivities.”

“Good one. How behind are we?”

“Farrah, I’m serious. We’re not going. I have a better idea.”

Farrah sat up, checking the time on her phone, swiping through dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Max, what have we done?”

He was profusely padding away at the keypad on his phone, grinning as he looked up.

“We overslept. And I hearby decree that today we have an imagine day.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Never had one to begin with, baby. Put on your best pajamas.”

–

Marjorie handed Maxwell and Farrah each a small packed linen bag, nodding toward an empty hallway.

“Head straight out. Just beyond the trees.”

“Thank you, Marjorie,” Farrah said, a warm smile on her lips.

Maxwell took her hand, running out the door and past the trees, surprised that no security had returned to their postings yet. There was a parked car with tinted windows and civilian license plates, a set of keys tucked under the driver’s side tire. He unlocked the doors and got in, Farrah’s face lit up in excitement as he started the engine.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here.”

Farrah connected her phone’s output to the radio, playing a throwback playlist from when they were growing up.

“Oh, make sure our locations are turned off,” Maxwell suggested, knocking his knee gently against the center console.

“You’re brilliant.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

–

After belting out ‘Bye Bye Bye,’ and a few handfuls of other classic 90s songs, Maxwell turned down an unmarked road. Farrah straightened her posture as they approached a modest yet grand looking house with old Victorian architecture.

“Whoa,” she exlaimed, looking to Maxwell with curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

“Welcome to tiny House Beaumont.”

“What? What is this place?”

“Come on,” he chuckled, elbowing her playfully. He walked to her door, opening it for her and taking her hand, unlocking the entrance with a small iron key from his pocket.

The foyer was dark but inviting, like a cozy house you’d see in a film. The wallpaper was ancient but beautiful, colorful florals strewn with vines and hummingbirds with more detail than anything you’d find in modern time. Maxwell locked the four steel locks on the door, turning into the sitting room and drawing two sets of curtains hanging over large bay windows. Along the walls were built in bookshelves, a dark oak shade, the scent of antique pages lingering in the air. Farrah sat back on a large sofa, its high back comforting her bones after the car ride.

“Maxwell, this is incredible.”

“Wanna know a secret? It’s mine.”

“What?” She leaned forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to her. “How?”

“I bought it during an auction a few years ago. I was sick of Bertrand and needed a break.”

“And it’s just been empty since?”

“I came here a few times since then. But there’s a staff that tends to it bimonthly.”

“How does nobody know about this?”

“I know how to cover my tracks when needed. Plus, the staff doesn’t know I’m who owns the place. They think the guy’s name is, 'Reed Starling.’”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Not necessary, baby. Sometimes we all need a break. Plus, I did promise you an imagine day.”

“There will be chaos at the castle when they realize we aren’t there.”

“I called in a favor. Liam…he gets it. He will keep this a secret for us.”

“How long do we have?”

“Until morning. It’s as good as I could do,” he said, frowning.

“That’s perfect. So which one are we having, then?”

“Hmm?”

“Imagine day. What are we doing?”

“Well…Reed Starling may have placed an online order for pizza delivery.”

“Don’t tell me-”

“And my collection of Fresh Prince happens to be in that bag Marjorie packed for me-”

“Maxwell!” Farrah shouted, climbing onto his lap, scattering kisses over his face. She met his lips with intensity, fingers in his hair and happiness in her heart. She could feel him smiling against her, which made her do the same, leaning into the couch as they gleefully held one another.

“You deserve this, Farrah.”

“We deserve this. There is no 'me,’ when it comes to my happiness.”

“Maybe our life won’t be like this every day. Maybe when we marry and we reside in the duchy, things will be a little bland and a lot busy. But you’ll be with me and I’ll be with you, and that’s the happiest thing I’ve ever realized.”

“As if anything could be bland with you next to me,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Imagine being so in love you didn’t know how to comprehend it. So in love your heart could burst.”

“Imagine being in love with someone who loves you even more than that.”

[woodsilverlake]

Wood Has the Best Brick Oven Pizza in Los Angeles

When it comes to pizza, everybody has their own opinions on what makes the absolute best version in the world. Now, we might be biased, but we happen to think that the very best pizza in Los Angeles can be found at Wood Silverlake! The reason that we truly believe this is down to the fact that our pizzas are cooked in an amazing brick oven, and once you go brick oven, it is impossible to go back! There is definitely a lot of competition across the city, but we are confident in stating that we have the best brick oven pizza in Los Angeles. To back our claim up, here are just some of the many reasons why brick oven pizza is the best-tasting pizza in the world.

High Cooking Temperature

The inside of a brick wood oven can get much, much hotter than a conventional kitchen oven, and this means that the heat is distributed much more evenly across every corner. You know at home when you sometimes have to rotate your pizza in order to get an even cook? That isn’t the case with a brick oven because the temperature is high throughout.

Better Crust These high temperatures make for an absolutely delicious crust. Nobody in the world wants a bland or soft crust to dip at the end of their slice of pizza, and what a brick oven guarantees is that you are going to have the perfect crust to cover in sauce every single time. Faster Cooking Time Another benefit of the amazingly high temps that a brick oven can achieve is the fact that you can have your pizza fully cooked and delivered to your table or your door in a matter of minutes. When you are starving and want your order, this is the best possible outcome! Fresher Toppings One thing that the faster cooking time results in is much fresher, crisper, tastier toppings. The longer things like vegetables and thin meats stay in the oven, the tougher and harder they are going to get. Almost ‘flash cooking’ in a brick oven means that the dough gets properly cooked in a quicker time, leaving your toppings much less exposed to over-exposure. Unique Flavor The flavor that you get from the burning wood of a brick oven is absolutely unique. When you compare it to a pizza that is cooked in a bland kitchen oven environment, there really isn’t any comparison at all! There is a smoky, earthy taste that makes all the ingredients taste better.

So, if you want to sample the best brick oven pizza in Los Angeles for yourself, then don’t hesitate to visit us as Wood Silverlake! No matter what your pizza topping preferences are, we can guarantee that we have an option on the menu that is perfect for you. Our expert pizza chefs look forward to welcoming you and having you try what they are confident is the best pizza you will find not just in Los Angeles, but anywhere on the West Coast!

[http-lovecore]

100 reasons not to kill yourself:

(In no particular order)

100. Making new friends

99. Finding new music

98. Seeing new movies with ur fav actors/actresses!!

97. Meeting a celebrity randomly by chance

96. Eating new foods

95. Really cool sunsets in the winter

94. Meeting ur platonic/romantic soulmate

93. Reading new books

92. Your pets would miss you a lot

91. Summer roadtrips

90. YOU GOTTA STICK AROUND TO SEE THE ALIENS BOI

89. Holiday parties

88. Wearing new clothes

87. IHOP hangouts with ur friends

86. I'd miss u, u fucking bitch

85. Warm drinks during winter holidays!!

84. Buying that one thing you've wanted f o r e v e r

83. Sleeping all day under a comfy duvet

82. Beach days

81. Sleeping under the stars

80. Inside Jokes with ur bestfriends

79. New York style pizza

78. Fried dough

77. Comfortable silences with good friends

76. Watching movies from childhood!!

75. Wearing vintage clothes!!

74. Poetry!!

73. Movie nights with friends!!! (or alone if thats ur thing)

72. SEEING UR FAV ARTIST IN CONCERT

71. Your fave family member would be devastated

70. Having crazy stories to pass down someday!!

69. Getting a job you genuinely love!!

68. Bouncing on hotel beds

67. Doing backflips on trampolines

66. YOU'RE A SUPER DOPE HUMAN BEING

65. YOU HAVE GOOD QUALITIES

64. THERE'S SOMETHING UNIQUE IN YOU THAT NOBODY ELSE HAS

63. YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU SET YOUR HEART TO

62. Packing up and visiting new cities whenever you want

61. Soft af blankets

60. Being able to grow and change

59. LOVING URSELF SOMEDAY, UR TIME WILL COME ANGELS

58. LEGIT WATCHING PPL WHO DOUBTED U, FAIL COMPLETELY AT LIFE

57. Petting new dogs/cats!!

56. Laughing til you cry

55. SNORTING WHILE YOU LAUGH

54. Playing new video games (if thats ur thing)

53. I love you dude

52. Bonfires!!

51. Cold Lemonade on a hot summer day!!

50. Thrift stores!!

49. Staying up all night with friends

48. NEW EXPERIENCES WITH NEW FRIENDS

47. Cool aesthetic pics

46. Going to area 51 (idc if you believe in aliens or not, but that's a fucking liiiiit area)

45. Hearing new jokes!!!

44. Getting married (if thats ur thing)

43. Cute baby ducks!!

42. Becoming more and more confident!!!

41. Seeing the people you love become even more lovely!!

40. Long weekends from school/work!!

39. Life is so beautiful sometimes!!

38. Things changing for the better!!!

37. FALLING IN LOVE WITH NEW CITIES/NEW PEOPLE/NEW EXPERIENCES

36. Calling friends on the phone and staying up all night

35. Indoor pools!! (those things are so cool dont lie)

34. Treating yourself to lil shopping trips!!

33. Grocery shopping with ur lover/friend

32. BIG FLANNEL SHIRTS

31. Glow in the dark stuff

30. GETTING POSITIVE FEEDBACK AT SCHOOL/WORK

29. Going to weird lil diners at 3 in the morning

28. New TV shows being made!!

27. New seasons of ur fav TV shows!!

26. Nice smelling soap!!

25. HUGS FROM UR BEST FRIENDS

24. HUGS FROM UR FAV FAMILY MEMBERS

23. YOUR FRIENDS WOULD LITERALLY BE EMOTIONALLY DESTROYED

22. You have a beautiful heart and a beautiful mind

21. All the positive memories you've made

20. All the positive memories you havent even made yet!!

19. Cuddling with pets!!

18. Going to new countries and eating their food!!

17. Netflix binges on a Sunday

16. I would actually really miss you

15. People like being around you

14. Your presence would be missed

13. Your heart is so strong and so brave

12. LISTENING TO OLD MUSIC FROM CHILDHOOD

11. Graffiti

10. Spray-painting

9. Coffee shops!!

8. Falling asleep in the middle of the day and waking up feeling so refreshed!!

7. Playing ur fav sport (if thats ur thing)

6. Playing in the ocean!! (if you like that stuff!!)

5. The possibility of learning more abt our solar system!!

4. Things change so rapidly!!

3. Life is beautiful

2. Life is a mess but something positive is always on the other side

1. I think of you often, I hope you find peace soon, my messages and my heart is always open.

[secondgame00-blog]

Amazing & Easy Christmas Tree & Wreath Twist Bread!

One recipe - two amazing breads! Dear Reader, this is one of the most exciting and easiest things to make this Christmas! A delicious, soft bread shaped in both a Christmas tree and then a pretty wreath using the scraps! The bread mixture is based on a super simple pizza dough using just two ingredients and the whole thing is such a cinch it will be our secret about how simple this is!

I've seen this idea on lots of American blogs but they all used pre-made crescent or croissant dough. We don't really have the same sort of dough here - sure there is puff and shortcrust pastry but I wanted to make it more a pizza so that it could be served with Christmas lunch or dinner.

Enter the fantastically simple two ingredient pizza dough hack using self raising flour and natural yogurt! There's no need to wait for the yeast to activate, you can get these both done in record time! Everyone can grab a piece of soft bread and it goes with pretty much everything. I also made this ahead of time, froze it and will warm it up just before dinner and serve it warm.

I want to say thank you for all the lovely messages about my father's recent stroke. He has been busy reading all the comments from his hospital bed and loves seeing them. I've had a few of you ask me about how his progress. He was moved from ICU to the Acute Stroke Ward to Neuroscience ward which is all good news.

He made a huge leap of progress on the third day and had his feeding tube removed and he able to speak (although before the stroke, he never really talked much). He has relearned how to count, say the alphabet and is currently trying to learn the names of animals using our old childhood books. We still haven't seen a doctor for almost a week - they're proving as elusive as a rare bird. He also has to do 15 minutes of drawing every day.

The funny thing is that he is drawing the same man over and over again. It's a man wearing a hat wearing a shirt and long pants. And nobody has any idea who it is.

"Who is the man?" we ask him every day.

And every day he either shakes his head or whispers, "Secret!". Because sometimes he's almost like a kid again.

So tell me Dear Reader, have you got your Christmas menu already planned? Are you cooking and is it at your place? What is on your menu this year?

An Original Recipe by Lorraine Elliott

Preparation time: 30 minutes plus 30 minutes resting

Cooking time: 13 minutes

Makes 1 large Christmas Tree and 1 small wreath

3 cups self raising flour

2 cups natural Greek yogurt

1 teaspoon fine salt

200g/7ozs. basil, cashew and parmesan dip or pesto

1 cup grated cheddar cheese

1/2 beaten egg for egg wash

Step 1 - Mix the flour, Greek yogurt and salt until it comes together as a shaggy mix. Then knead with a dough hook for 6-8 minutes or until elastic in texture. Roll out on a floured surface into a large rectangle. Cut out a tree shape including the trunk and a triangle shaped tree but reserve the two triangles to make another triangle (which you'll put on top later).

Dip and cheese topped tree bottom layer

Remaining two triangles of dough rolled out

The second dough layer on top

Step 2 - Spread with 2/3 of the pesto or dip to the edges and then sprinkle with 2/3 cup of cheddar cheese. Then roll out the remaining triangle of pastry on a floured surface and then cut out a triangle around the same size.

Slicing into the tree avoiding the centre

Twisting the strips

Using a ruler and pizza cutter or sharp paring knife trim to fit the bottom tree shape. Reserve the rest of the dough to make the wreath and just let it rest for the time being.

Brushed with basil oil from the dip

Step 3 - Preheat oven to 235C/455F. Take the pizza cutter or knife and cut horizontal cuts on the same level on the left and right side of the tree avoiding the centre. Twist each strip on each side to create a pattern. Then brush a bit of the green oil from the pesto dip on top to colour the bread green. Brush with the egg and rest for 30 minutes. Then bake for 10 minutes or until golden brown.

Two dough rounds, one with dip and cheese

Step 4 - Making a Christmas bread wreath: Divide the remaining dough into two even sized balls. Roll out into even sized circles and brush one disc with pesto and sprinkle with cheese. Place the other disc on top.

Then using a pizza cutter or knife cut 14-16 slits (even numbers) radiating around the centre leaving a circle around an inch in the centre uncut. Take two adjoining strips and twist them in opposite directions. Repeat with other pairs. Brush with egg wash and rest for 30 minutes. Then bake for 8-10 minutes or until golden brown.

Source: http://www.notquitenigella.com/2018/12/23/christmas-tree-wreath-bread-easy/

[thisislizheather]

January Jewels

Forgive the lateness of this post! Here are the highlights from January.

Still using the Origins GinZing Eye Cream and I think it’s working, so I’ll keep at it. It doesn’t leave those red circles under my eyes (that other eye creams have done to me) when I’m using it either, which is a huge plus.

I can’t remember if I’ve ever mentioned how good this ArtNaturals shampoo & conditioner is for hair growth. I’ve been using it for a few months and it obviously takes a bit to start working, but it definitely does. I’ve also tried their Himalayan salt scrub, which is also pretty great.

Again, I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned it, but I’ve been in love with this perfect tinted moisturizer from AmorePacific for about a year now. I know that it’s too expensive, but I really try to make it last at least a year to make it worth it.

Nobody told me how good orzo is! I may have told Nathan it’s a kind of rice so that we can continue to eat it regularly?

I watched about three or four episodes of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo since every person on the planet did as well, and I think I’m good and don’t need to watch more. Although I did see this one Buzzfeed post about actually helpful insights from her whole deal.

Did you know that if you have an iPhone, you can literally shake it to undo typing? Layla just taught me that, so great.

I tried the burger at Beebe’s and it was good! Especially if you’re in the mood for something quick & tasty.

Read & loved Busy Philipp’s new book.

Sampled some of the donuts at Dough and… oh man. Too doughy! I know, don’t kill me. And there were barely any poppy seeds on a supposed “lemon poppy seed donut.” Go home!

I’ve been using Kiehl’s Buttermask For Lips for a few weeks and even though it’s pretty decent, I think the Laneige Lip Mask is a slightly better product in terms of how soft it makes your lips in the morning.

Finally ate at Emily in the West Village. Didn’t realize they took over the old Blue Ribbon location, it’s such a beautifully small spot. The food was fantastic, it’s still unclear to me what exactly a Detroit-style pizza is, but it’s lovely and weird and so good. The burger was great too, just definitely not worth $27, that’s insanity for meat on a bun, I’m sorry.

Oh! I tried this awful salmon recipe off of Half Baked Harvest, which usually has amazing recipes. I kind of like that that woman isn’t perfect now.

Had the best hot chocolate of the season so far at Boro Hotel.

My friend Dave Merheje has a stand-up special on Netflix that is crazy good and he’s the best and you have to watch it.

So I’m all caught up on This Is Us and man. It’s a lot. When William told Randall, “Take me to meet your father” and he starts talking to Jack at the tree? I haven’t cried that much at a scene since Tom Hanks lost Wilson. Good christ. I think one of the best parts about this show is that it covers all the years of a life of someone and I feel like no show has tried to do that, it’s so crazy good at times.

Tell me you’ve seen the Futurama episode Jurassic Bark about Fry’s dog. I wept.

I’ve been hearing about Xi’an Famous Foods forever, so I made it over there and ate the spicy lamb cumin noodles, which was huge and really good, definitely enough for two people. It was super spicy and the lamb was incredible.

Finally tried Smith & Cult nail polishes and they last a pretty decent amount of time. In love with the colours Stockholm Syndrome & Doe My Dear.

Also in love with Cara Cara oranges. Find them. Eat them. Love them.

There’s this wicked new pizza place in my neighborhood, Massa’s, which definitely has a hint of what is so good about Patsy’s in the city.

Obviously I watched both Fyre Festival documentaries because none of us are individuals in this age and while the Hulu one was good for showing the terrible-ness of the financial specifics, and the Netflix one was good for showing the bigger picture of what a scumbag he is and the specifics of people who were screwed over - BOTH really were the same fucking movie. Dick guy. Dick advertising company. Dicks all ‘round.

I’ve been watching this 100 Baby Sims Challenge (a new one comes out each week roughly) and they’re so addictive to watch. I don’t even feel the urge to play, it’s weirdly enjoyable just to watch.

Watched the Ted Bundy tapes and after seeing the whole “series” on Netflix, I’m officially on board with the death penalty. I used to be against it more or less, but definitely on board with it now. Another thing? I can’t watch these types of series anymore. Not because they’re too horrific to think about or because they’re such awful crimes (they are, both of those things), but it’s infuriating to watch these pieces that treat these vile human beings with such dignity, who are thoughtfully studied and analyzed while each victim simply has a name, a photo and how she was brutally murdered… and that’s it. It’s demoralizing to everyone who suffered as a result of those crimes and disgusting that these despicable men are treated as celebrities with any kind of rights. It’s sick.

Tried Cadbury’s Royal Dark Chocolate and I swear it doesn’t even taste like dark chocolate, it’s so good. It’s like what all other dark chocolate WISHES it tasted like.

Went to Tavern On The Green in Central Park for the first time! This place will forever remind me of Ghostbusters, it’s amazing that it’s even still around. The service was great, the light inside the place is so bright and lovely, the food was fairly average, but I am glad I went.

Finally ate at The Dutch (somewhere I’ve wanted to try for years) and it was perfect. Look, I have a soft spot for steak tartare and their wagyu one was phenomenal. Even the jalapeño cornbread with whipped butter that comes before the food was amazing. Although bad cornbread is hard to find. The kale Caesar wasn’t anything to write home about, but that’s okay. The service was stellar and the hostess even said, “Goodbye Ms. Heather!” on my way out, which I loved. I will definitely be back here.

I made two new recipes from Chrissy Teigen’s second cookbook: the salted maple granola and the cheesy spicy breakfast hash. Both were crazy good! Some notes: ignore the microwave instruction on the hash. And lessen the granola ingredient amounts unless you want to be eating this granola for a year (it also tastes amazing unbaked).

I returned to Augustine inside The Beekman for Restaurant Week for lunch and even though it was day 1 of having the flu, the food (that I ended up taking home) was delicious. A decent steak tartare and a roast chicken that would put all others to shame.

I was in Starbucks on my laptop recently and since I forgot my headphones, I had to listen to the Hamilton soundtrack that they had on for at least an hour. Aaaaannnndddd I feel like you know where I’m going with this. Hamilton sounds like it fucking suuuuhuuuucks. I promise I’m not just hating for the sake of hating something successful. It actually sucked hard. I can’t imagine sitting through the actual performance, good god the patience you’d have to have.

Read The War of Art upon Nathan’s insistence.

So excited for the Big Mouth Valentine’s special next week.