#Power bites are a no-bake snack that can be eaten on-the-go that are made with almond butter

[ericandjessiedaily]

Cookies - No-Bake Power Bites

[cilil]

Author's Note: First time writing this ship and a food play prompt. Thanks to @melkors-big-tits for requesting it! Your art inspires me a lot and I've tried my best to stick to your hcs and interpretations for them in this one♡

ೃ♡⁀➷ Spicy Bingo: Food play + Gothmog x Melkor ৎ୭

"Want another snack?"

ৎ୭ Synopsis: Gothmog finds Melkor in the kitchen late at night. Melkor offers him a delicious dessert.

ৎ୭ Featuring: bottom Melkor, the dark lord's surprisingly successful baking attempts and his cute apron, slight monsterfucking due to Gothmog being a Balrog (I suppose), rimming

ৎ୭ Oneshot (~1.4k)

When Gothmog decided to sneak into Utumno's kitchen for a nightly snack, he expected to stumble over a few creatures of darkness scurrying through the fortress or maybe see a fellow Maia or two going about their business. 

What he did not expect was to find the Dark Lord himself sitting on the kitchen table amidst a mess of dirty bowls and kitchen tools, holding a half-melted chocolate bar in his hands and snacking on it. 

"My lord," Gothmog greets with a small nod and looks around. Baking trays upon baking trays with fresh, sweet-smelling pastries on it cover every available surface in the kitchen, presumably made by none other than the Vala himself. 

"Gothmog." 

Melkor looks up as he acknowledges the Balrog's presence and crosses one leg over the other. He's wearing an apron, Gothmog notices, black with white frills and a blue bow around his waist, and, as far as he can see, nothing underneath. His gaze is drawn to the pale skin of his legs, stretching across powerful muscles worthy of the mightiest dweller of Arda, and he suddenly finds himself enthralled by the sight, wishing to come closer and run a large, clawed hand down his thigh. 

"You may have some of my eclairs," Melkor offers graciously and raises his hand to his mouth to lick his palm and fingers clean. 

"So you... you've been baking?" Gothmog asks, trying his hardest not to stare as he walks over to the nearest baking tray and picks up one of the chocolatey treats. It doesn't seem burned, he notices.

"I wanted chocolate eclairs, but none of the Orc chefs knew how to make them," Melkor explains with a small pout and reaches into one of the many bowls stacked on the table. Miraculously, he produces another piece of chocolate. 

"And now I have some leftovers." 

He sucks on it with a pensive expression. 

"Though... maybe I could have just eaten the chocolate instead. Oh well."

"I see." 

Gothmog clears his throat. The eclair he's eaten in the meantime is delicious, yet every bite keeps getting stuck in his throat as he keeps staring at the Vala; from his new position, he can tell that the apron is indeed the only article of clothing he's wearing. 

"May I ask why you are... dressed like this?" he questions after a moment of silence, finally gathering the courage to do so; not to mention formulating a coherent sentence while trying to catch a glimpse of his lord's comfortably seated ass wasn't an easy task either. 

"Mairon said I need to wear an apron in the kitchen," Melkor shrugs. 

"No, I meant... uh..." 

"Oh, that?" 

He stretches out his legs like a cat getting up after a nap and looks down as if it only just occurred to him that he is, in fact, barely dressed. 

"I felt hungry after going to bed. I sleep naked."

"Ah..."

Gothmog licks his lips and quickly looks down at the baking tray once again, acting like he's busy selecting another eclair. Yet no amount of attempted distraction could have prepared him for the sound of bowls and kitchen tools clattering to the floor, swept aside by a mighty hand, and spinning around to see– 

Melkor drapes himself across the kitchen table with one elegant, fluid movement, gazing up at the Maia with half-lidded eyes. Once he's sure he has his attention, he reaches for the hem of his apron and slowly pulls it upwards until his entire leg is exposed, then teasingly places another piece of chocolate on the apex of his thigh. 

"Want another snack?"

Gothmog blinks a couple of times, unsure if what he's seeing is real. Upon watching the chocolate slowly starting to melt, he eventually concludes that it must be and walks closer, placing his large hand on Melkor's thigh. His skin feels soft, he notices, yet his sharp claws barely leave scratches on him as he starts trailing them down his leg, mesmerised by the subtle paradoxes within the Vala's form. His fána appears to be soft and cold at first glance, like freshly fallen snow, yet he can feel unyielding strength slumbering within him and the heat of his presence causes his own fire to grow hotter, sparks falling from his palms and fingertips. 

Melkor watches his movements with a curious expression, prompting Gothmog to snap out of his thoughts and reach for the piece of chocolate, drawing patterns on his skin. He lowers his head, hands reverently holding on to his thigh, and proceeds to lick him clean. The feeling of his hot, rough tongue brushing against Melkor's skin elicits a soft, melodious noise of contentment from the Vala, toes curling and muscles tensing with every lick. 

Encouraged by his lord's response, Gothmog reaches for the bow of his apron and pulls until it comes undone, granting him better access. A wicked smile appears on Melkor's lips then, and he rolls over to lie on his back instead, handing him another piece of chocolate before spreading his legs. 

"Go on." 

Gothmog licks his lips and nods wordlessly. He doesn't need to be told twice. 

This time, he draws playful lines from his lord's muscular abdomen all the way down to the inside of his thighs and follows them with his tongue soon after, suppressing a soft groan as he sees his cock harden. Ever eager to serve, he gives it a couple of gentle, experimental licks–as gentle as the shape of a Balrog allows him to be, though Melkor doesn't seem to mind.  Neither the sharpness of his claws, nor the roughness of his skin, nor the heat of his form can hurt the mightiest and, in Gothmog's eyes, most beautiful of the Valar. 

Yet as much as he enjoys teasing the hot, hard length presented to him, there is another treat he wants to sample. Emboldened by his lord's arousal, he flips him around so he's lying on his stomach and  grasps those wonderful cheeks he's been eyeing for a while now to spread him wide open. Melkor lets out a low, needy whine in response, and Gothmog is more than happy to give him what he wants; and enjoy a lovely dessert for himself while he's at it. 

His tongue caresses puckered skin, teasing and circling that lovely little hole he has discovered. Muscles twitch eagerly as Melkor relaxes on the table and moans, a loud, indulgent and oh-so-sinful noise that has Gothmog's very fëa shudder in bliss. The sheer force of the Vala's pleasure causes his own cock to harden, but he doesn't want to touch himself, not yet; he wants his hands to remain where they are, greedily kneading well-rounded, muscular flesh. 

Unable to resist any longer, he pushes his tongue inside. The long, thick muscle fills the tight passage presented to him so beautifully and Melkor clenches around him, welcoming the tender, blissful penetration. In his mind, Gothmog thanks his lord for blessing his fána with such strength, enough for him to keep thrusting in and out his hole, saliva dripping down his own chin as his tongue massages the Vala's rim. He is rewarded with an utterly filthy melody of moans from Melkor's lips, coupled with his own quiet, muted groans and growls of pleasure and the wet sounds of enthusiastic licking. 

Gothmog continues as if in a frenzy, not daring to stop or even slow down until he feels a shudder going through his lord's fána. Just imagining how he's cumming all over the table right now and making a mess of himself as well as his frilly apron makes him feral, but he stops himself from replacing his tongue with his cock, as much as he would love to fuck the Vala senseless. Instead, he slowly withdraws and contemplates if he should ask for permission to touch himself, yet finds himself too shy to do so. 

Melkor rolls over to his side once more, propping himself up on his forearm. 

"Well done, Gothmog," he purrs with a lazy smile on his lips, then taps on the table with his index finger, pointing to a small puddle of cum. "Now make sure to eat up and clean me, and I may let you have another sweet treat."

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

taglist: @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to

spicy bingo master post | my masterlist | tag list form

[jenniferpharrdavis]

Recipe for No-Bake Power Bites Power bites are a no-bake snack that can be eaten on-the-go that are made with almond butter, oats, honey, and coconut. 1/2 cup chocolate chips, 1/3 cup honey, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract or more to taste, 1 cup unsweetened shredded coconut, 1 cup rolled oats, 1/2 cup cocoa nibs, 1/2 cup almond butter, sea salt to taste

[dominadora-avernal]

No-Bake Power Bites Recipe Power bites are a no-bake snack that can be eaten on-the-go that are made with almond butter, oats, honey, and coconut.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

[peculiarmindset]

Here’s my fic :)

" Your still at it? Work ended hours ago come sit with me.", he whined.

Draco barely looked up from his paper, giving a half hearted answer. " Give me a few more minutes...", he said tapping away at the edge of his desk.

" Come onnn. We work all day lets relax a bit.", Harry sat up a bit growing more passionate.

Draco rolled his eyes. " Well I do atleast, you think being an Auror is easy"

" No of course not I know that its just - " Harry was interrupted by a loud growl emanating from his stomach.

" Hungry?", Draco teased. " You just had a snack a few minutes ago didnt you?", he watched his partners facial expression change from uncomfortable to mischievous as he cocked his leg to the side and let out a bubbly, barely audible fart.

"Nope.", Harry said smuggly.

" Thats digusting Harry.", he complained burying his head in his stack of papers.

" Yep, bet you cant do better.", Harry challenged him. He had no doubt in his mind that Draco could do better, he just wanted to see him try. He knew for a fact that Draco held his farts in all day long and work. AND he also knew that Draco hated farting infront of him, so much so that his ass sounded like trumpeter all night.

"I CAN do better, I just have some dignity unlike -", he was cut off by the sound of another one of harrys farts. This one was louder and tempered of at the end, like it was running out of air.

" All im gathering is that you couldnt." Harry pushed.

Draco spinned around in his chair to face Harry. " You know what..." he said deciding that besting harry is more valuable than his dignity. He lifted his ass slightly from his soft leather chair, casually assaulting its seat with his foul wind.

PRRRPPT!

Harry smirked, revelling at the fact that he got Draco out of his shell.

" Weak.", he retorted. Harrys stomach muscles visibly tensed as he let out a rumbly fart.

Draco wrapped his hands around his knee, pulling it into his torso. A long bubbly fart rolled its way out of him for what felt like 10 minutes.

" Ahhh. Whos weak now." Harry walked over to Draco and took a seat on his lap.

" Still you." Harry said as he ripped one right onto Dracos unsuspecting lap.

" Your a pest, you know.", Draco couldnt help but laugh as he kissed his boyfriends cheek.

" You love me though."

" That I do"

*Thank you so much for writing me something- I loved it! 🥰 Also, fun fact: I actually wrote me own Drarry fart contest- it’s pretty epic and it’s in one of the future chapters of Pureblood Plumbling. So look forward to it 😉 If anyone else wants to write me what I requested in my pinned post, then please feel free to! I’ll reciprocate back 😘

**Also, the reason why I was able to crank out this drabble quickly was because I’ve been slowly working on it for a while now (I had a feeling someone would ask for face-farting so I had to be prepared). I’m just saying this so in case someone wants to write me something as well, most likely it’ll take me a bit longer to give you a drabble back 😅

“Ohhhh…Harry.”

Draco moaned in Harry’s mouth, their tongues sliding against one another’s, sucking as if wanting to devour the other.

Harry’s lips slowly slid away as he nibbled across Draco’s cheek and moved down to suckle at a sweet spot that Draco had on his neck, making the blonde moan even louder.

“Turn around, love.” Harry urged. Draco readily did so and Harry looked with hungry eyes as the sight of the blonde on his knees and hands, wearing nothing but his underwear, bent over so his glorious arse was facing right in front of Harry was tantalizing.

Harry, who was completely nude himself, leaned forward to give a playful bite on one of his lover’s clothed bum cheeks.

Just as he went to give the other cheek another bite, he heard Draco’s stomach give a loud growl.

All he heard was Draco’s alarmed voice saying, “Harry, wait! I’m about to-“ and suddenly a loud burst of air erupted all over Harry’s face, the earthy smell of musk mixed with rotten eggs encasing him.

Harry coughed, blinking in surprise as Draco turned around, his face red in horror.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t- I didn’t mean- oh Merlin, I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those baked beans!” Draco stuttered, looking back and forth between Harry’s face and the door, wanting to run away and cry.

Harry stared at him with wide eyes, his mind going in circles. There was only one thought he had.

“Do it again.”

Draco froze as he looked back at Harry. “What?”

“I liked it. Do it again.” Harry repeated, almost demanded this time.

As Draco continued to look at him with eyes wide like a doe, Harry gently turned his boyfriend around and brought him back to the same position as before.

“…Harry?” He heard Draco ask hesitantly.

Harry rubbed his face over his lover’s underwear-covered bum, straying right over where his arsehole was. He reach over and splayed his hand over the other’s belly, feeling the rumbles underneath his palm.

“Just let it go, Draco. Please.” When Draco did nothing, still confused about what was going on, Harry decided to take matters into his own hands (literally) and pushed his hand right into the other’s stomach.

He heard Draco gasp and another brassy fart was let loose into Harry’s face.

Bbbbrrrrrrrrrttttttt!

They both moaned, Draco from the relief and embarrassment while Harry due to the sheer euphoria and intensity of the smell that hit him directly.

Harry continued to press down and squeeze Draco’s belly, forcing out all the gas that was trapped inside his lover to come out.

Draco’s moans were heard over and over throughout their bedroom, loud emissions from his rear end repeatedly bursting forth.

Harry’s groans were also heard, sounding almost tortured as the bubbly, almost booming sounds and the primal stench of his lover’s gas made him shiver in a mixture of delight and disgust.

At one point, Harry even lowered the blonde’s briefs and his eyes had practically burned in hot desire as he watched Draco’s hole literally open and practically shake as a large fart exited from him, the blonde’s bum shaking slightly from the power behind his fart.

It was madness.

Harry couldn’t get enough.

Harry grabbed his lover’s arse in his strong hands and shoved his nose right up his lover’s hole.

He let out another groan as Draco’s next farts went directly into his own body, the smell entering into his nostrils as he could literally feel Draco’s warm and slightly moist air hit his face, trapping him so he couldn’t escape from the other’s farts even if he wanted to.

This continued on for quite some time, the room filled with loud moaning and choking sounds as Draco continued to gas out Harry.

Finally, it seemed like Draco had finally ran out of gas- his farts getting softer and airier as they came along. Harry was fine with this since he now had time to catch his breath.

Both boys eventually shifted their bodies until they were laying down, facing one another, looking at each other with molten eyes as they panted and tried to get their heavy breathing under control, their minds still swirling from an overload of sensations.

When things had calmed down once more, Harry lazily wrapped an arm over the other while Draco curled into him cozily.

When Harry leaned forward to give Draco a kiss, Draco grimaced and leaned his face away.

“Oh no, no way am I gonna kiss you right now. Not after knowing where your face has been.” Draco pointed out, raising an eyebrow at his lover.

Harry only grinned.

They cuddled together for a bit more, both of them feeling a little shy but more accepting in what had just transpired between them.

Then another growl came from Draco’s stomach.

They both looked at each other.

“Ready for round two?” Draco asked suggestively.

Harry’s eyes glinted as he nodded.

***Goodness, I forgot how hard it was to write (kinda?) smut 😅 And godddd…writing face-farting is hard. But I hope you enjoyed this story and if you or anyone else wants to write me a fic (see pinned post above) please feel free to do so- in exchange, I’ll write you a Drarry drabble or post one of my drabbles that I have saved up from other fandoms. (But no more face-farting for the time being please- I don’t think I can write another one so soon 😆)

[0dirty-deals0]

Lucky You, Lucky Me (Mammon x GN! Reader)

A/N: Based off the theory(?) That if Mammon likes you he brings you luck. First Obey Me fic, don't be afraid to tell me what you think! Thank you!

It was Mc's turn to do grocery shopping today, though Lucifer didn't want them to go alone so he had Mammon follow them as their personal 'guard dog' as Lucifer claimed. Complaining was a given, though he didn't do as much of it since Mc was involved.

If he was being honest, he was glad he'd be the one going with Mc since this would mean a bit more time alone with them. He savours every moment with them, from just playfully bickering about brand types to Mc dragging him around by holding his hand tight. He would never say he loved those little moments with them out loud though, so he hides behind his usual air of confidence. 

"Aren't you glad you get the chance to hang out with me, Mc?" 

"Of course I am, I'm going out with my boyfriend after all. I hope you like going out of with me too.," 

Sometimes that confident persona shatters quick though when Mc pulls a power move such as that (with a sincere smile to boot!). He's reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess as Mc continues to happily navigate through the different aisles of the store. 

Despite his many complaints, he never minds being dragged by Mc. It isn't as emotionally draining as it is to be around his brothers. With Mc he feels recharged, a bit more pep in his step that amplifies whenever they praise him or just say a simple 'thank you'. They make him feel lucky that they're close to one another. 

When it's about time to pay, Mc gives him some money and asks if he can get something for the both of them at the convenient store. 

"You do realize who your givin' this to, right?" Mammon still takes the money and keeps it in his wallet anyways. "I could just take this money and buy whatever I wanted with no regard of what you wanted." 

He's digging his own grave, he knows he is but hey it's a bigger warning than anything he'd give his brothers. Hell, he'd probably not even spare them a second glance and walk away.

"I trust you enough to know you won't do that," Mc answers honestly as their eyes continue to look at the items being scanned. They have no idea how their answer makes him feel, he just lets out a scoff to hide his growing blush. 

"Suit yourself, human. Don't blame me if I don't get ya anythin'," they give him a casual thumbs up as he walks away. 

He walks around the convenient store grabbing all the snacks he knows the two of them like. He even grabs one or two new things for them to try together as well. As he's paying he notices that a bakery beside the shop is selling something that Mc has been dying to get their hands on, but never seemed to have any luck doing so. He pays quickly and walks over to said bakery to investigate. 

To his surprise and sheer luck, they seemed to have just made a new fresh batch. He quickly walks in and gets as many as he can for the two of them and pays up. He hands them the snacks from the convenient store and decides to keep the treat a surprise until they reached home.

Once home he presented the treat to them proudly. "Lookie here at what I got you, I'm pretty amazin' right?" Mc is quiet for a while before they practically tackle Mammon into a hug. 

"Holy shit-! What's wrong-" 

"hOW DID YOU GET THIS, THEY WERE SOLD OUT EARLIER WHEN WE PASSED BY!" 

"They made a fresh batch when I was glancin' around," Mc was practically vibrating on top of him and he was finding it hard to not just hug them back from how cute they seemed.

"Are you serious!? Mammon they never make these things twice! Once they're gone, they're GONE! Or so said the advertisment," Mammon hands them the big bag of baked goods. 

"Sometimes adverts lie, human. If anyone should know it's me." 

"Yeah but, this is seriously amazing," Mc couldn't help but squeal a little as they opened the bag to observe, though upon observing they froze a little. That made Mammon nervous. 

"Something wrong?" 

"No, I just," Mc looks at Mammon, a little concerned. "These are usually hella expensive. It's a miracle if we could even afford 2 but there's like a dozen in here. Did we even have enough leftover money from the shopping trip for this?" 

Mammon hands Mc his wallet and sure enough there was still cash in it, if anything there seemed to be a lot more cash than they expected. 

Mc turned her attention to Mammon once again. "...We must have gotten really lucky today, huh?" A smile spreads onto their face once again and Mammon can't help but return it with a genuine one of his own.

"I guess so." 

They kept quiet for a moment as they  glance at the things around them, the snacks, the wallet filled with cash and the pastries just waiting to be eaten. 

"...Wanna head to my room now so we can enjoy all of these together?" 

"I thought that was the main idea?" 

Mc laughs and gets off Mammon, offering a hand to help him up which he takes with no problem. He lets his hands linger on theirs for a while longer before letting go completely.

Once in Mc's room, Mc heads out for a while to get some of the snacks they left behind in the kitchen and asks Mammon to pick a movie for them to  watch (make fun of) together while they're gone. 

Once they're gone, Mammon's mind wanders as he goes through the titles. He realizes that at the convenient store he was in, he most definitely used up all the money in the wallet buying those snacks. He doesn't remember doing anything... out of legal means to get the extra cash so he wonders where it came from. He just remembers feelings like he had to get those treats for Mc, just to get some praise from them, just to make them happy because of him. 

A few snacks come raining down on him and he jumps at the suddenness of it all.

"I have returned with our snacks! Did you choose a movie already?" He hands them whatever it was he was holding at the moment and Mc goes to play it with no questions asked. 

They then plop down next to him on the bed, snuggling up close as they share with him the treats they now have quite the abundance of. 

Mammon takes a bite of the treat and his eyes widen, "Oh holy shit, I didn't expect them to taste this good." 

"I didn't either!" Mc admits, they're just wiggling with happiness next to him. "Maybe it tastes better because you're sharing it with someone you love?" 

Mc giggles at the groan Mammon lets leave his lips though he does begin to wrap an arm around Mc, pulling them close to him. Mc plants a quick kiss to his cheeks in reponse to his action.

"Stupid, we were just super freakin' lucky today like you said," despite his 'harsh' words, he has to admit, right now in this very moment, he was lucky to have you beside him. His partner in crime and most importantly, someone who loves him as much as he loves them.

[sylph-feather]

Wordcount: 1515

Prompter: @feministhotline

Prompt: “I can’t help it, okay? I’m a halfa! ...I need this to survive.”

Notes: Not as long as it could’ve been, but I still quite like it and I hope you do as well! 

@currentlylurking for team Human 

Ghosts can go quite a long time without a recharge. It’s not something known to Danny. For once, this isn’t due to his inexperience; no, most ghosts don’t know.

This is because ghosts recharge naturally, just by being in the ghost zone— hence why they never strayed overly far from Amity Park’s borders despite the catastrophic potential of their spread. Some could get a temporary boost from emotional output, but it never lasted. Consistently as they grew further, they grew weaker, and when they were brutally beat down (perhaps by a certain Phantom) they needed that glowing green essence of their home.

Danny’s awareness of this came in stages.

The first stage was the weakening. He spent the first few months of his halfterlife mostly figuring stuff out; sure, fighting the (eventually relatively) weak ghost creature that came to haunt the halls, but even then he did that primarily with his fists (albeit floating).

The main usage of his powers was accidental; a dash of invisibility here, a sprig of intangibility there. Enough to stress him out emotionally, but nothing that drained his ghost side physically. Routine exercises for a ghost, especially one with a solid body it could take excess energy from.

The only compensation Danny had to do was eat a little more. Considering everything else that was going on, he didn’t even think to question it as a compensation for the energy of his ghost side, but saw it as something normal. After all, teens were bottomless pits, ghost side or no; it was a nice, familiar constant, a good normalcy.

...Even if, as the ghost fights increased, so did his hunger.

It starts as a little extra on his plate, a few bites more.

His parents notice when he starts to take double portions as he’s fighting more fully fledged ghosts. Bitterly, Danny just wonders if they notice through food shortage and bills; it’s not like they come up from the lab often.

Normally, he’d tell himself not to think about what they were doing in the lab when he was trying to eat, but now… now he’s just so hungry that the nausea just doesn’t matter.

“My son’s a growing boy!” Jack splutters, unspeakably proud as he claps Danny on his skinny shoulder, knocking some of that precious food out of his mouth. “Finally swimming in my end of the gene pool,” Jack laughs, puffing his chest up.

Danny takes in his father’s broadness, thinking of his own lithe style of fighting. I hope not.

The issue with them noticing is when the ghosts continue to escalate— because his intake thusly escalates… and not even to scale, as though his body previously was boosted just fine but the solution of food is temporary, at least to some degree.

Then it was just another worry on his shoulders. Another of those traits that constantly nagged and bit at him— When will your parents notice? When will they put it together?

When he voiced those concerns, the need to consume such noticeably vast quantities of food, Sam and Tucker unanimously shrugged.

“They’ll buy that teens are bottomless pits,” Tuck informed around a large burger (demonstratively of his statement, really).

“Your dad’ll just be happy that you’re,” Sam paused, inhaling, then continuing in the most Jack Fenton-ly deep voice she could muster, “filling out to be just like your old man!”

Danny managed a snort, eyeing his own burger, painfully hungry gut flipping in anxiety, but accepted it with a nod. After all, it wasn’t like his parents had noticed anything about him that was more obviously ghostly, and there were plenty traits to name.

It was as though the universe took offense at that thought, or perhaps at the idea of letting Danny Fenton live his life easily. It didn’t matter the motivation of the universe’s whims, it just mattered that the hunger escalated.

Danny was inhaling food 24-7 now, enough that his worries about his parents noticing were coming true. Granted, it had taken them quite a while, but eventually they noticed he was never without a carb heavy snack. He could only keep that on the down low so much, particularly since using his powers made his stomach twinge in its constant state of hunger.

It was getting worse, food just a temporary solution. Danny’d read enough on ghosts to consider the portal (he may have been a C student, but he wasn’t a total idiot)— but that didn’t work; it brought an energy buzz, but it didn’t sate the hunger. It wasn’t the solution either— though he’d find the real one soon enough.

A fight with Johnny had gotten out of hand, lead to Danny ways away from Amity after having chased that stupid ghostly bike down a road stretching into nowhere. Needy of help, Danny had shouted at Johnny, asking of hunger, and Johnny had just shrugged and said “ya should be gettin all that food from the zone,” and then he’d shrugged again and kickstarted his motorcycle into gear, riding off with a flare of green flames, tailed hotly by Danny Phantom.

Exhausted and grasping at his stomach, Phantom began the flight home, drifting in a wobbly way.

He paused his mental moaning and groaning when the air turned sweet, as though someone had set a flytrap of honey. The halfa narrowed his eyes, practically walking on the air as he attempted to locate its source.

...A deer. Smashed.

Smashed was one way to describe it. Another more gorey way existed; ribs exposed to a baking sun, maggot eggs rooted in seeping flesh, labored breathing that oozed blood with every huff. Full of effort, the doe turned an eye towards him, full of fear.

Smelling so good.

It was paradoxical; Danny was drooling unrelated to throwing up, even though he was doing that too.

Most strangely, it was his first experience of satiation in a month. Just being near the creature’s rotting flesh as it panted its life away was enough to bring fullness to his belly, even as he expelled all the food he’d eaten that day before he left.

Who to go to, Danny wondered in bed. His parents knew not about whatever that was— even ghosts hadn’t known, Johnny hadn’t known. A halfa thing? It was a tentative conclusion, but one likely enough to consider. After all, Johnny spent enough time in the human world to know enough about “ecto fatigue” (his parents dubbing of the phenomenon).

That, of course, left one person.

…Well, Vlad certainly couldn’t have him as his weird son if he starved to death, right?

—That was the leverage he was holding now, at least. “I won’t do it,” Danny informed him after Vlad gave more oozing offers of “well if you’ll just be my pupil.” “Besides,” he continued, “you seem to know what’ll happen— can’t be your son if I die fully, and do you really think dear Maddie will look to you if I do?” Danny made a retching noise to go along with his sarcasm.

Vlad gave in. “Follow me,” he hissed, sliding back into that role of authoritative power, a cocky rich man rather than a frustrated ghost.

Hesitantly, Danny trailed, easily following Vlad directly through the ground to his secretive basement (not so secret, given Danny knew about it too).

“What does this have to do with it?” Danny pondered, eyeing… cages. A little set of small cages— stuffed with squeaking, writhing rats. Some of them were laying in the corner of their cages— something told Danny they were unconscious, but not dead.

Danny recoiled at the deafening confined scrabbling. “Didn’t know you were one for pets.”

Vlad ignored him, phasing a hand through the cage to pluck a rat up, thumb resting against its small throat.

Danny was growing more uncomfortable with the way the gray rat in Vlad’s hand had its eyes blown wide with fear, tiny voice squeaking as it squirmed. Tittering and shuffling and feeling much like the rat, Danny just ran his mouth— “what, you got a snake instead of a cat? Or maybe your cat caught all of these, instead? Or—“

The squeaking became more frantic, and Danny’s blue eyes snapped to the rat in Vlad’s grip. His thumb was pinned to the thing’s throat, cutting off its air, causing it to panic.

Slowly, its struggles stilled, each cry becoming more wheezy, each movement of its tiny paws becoming more leaden.

The sweet smell returned, and Danny breathed it in involuntarily— and felt full again.

Vlad smiled sharply, edging his grip off the things throat. It breathed, but was knocked out— the man callously tossed it back into the cage. Danny’s blown eyed gaze followed it.

“We can’t help it,” he crooned in a faux gentle voice, honey and oil oozing from it equally, “we’re halfas. We need something on the brink, like us; not fully dead, not ghost energy nor meat. Neither would completely do it.”

Danny stared at the unconscious rat, and he was the one breathing hard, pain in his lungs rather than his stomach.

[ziracona]

Do you have any favorite drinks and foods headcanons for ilm?? I feel like Meg would like Shirley templess 👀

Hmmm for sure but there’s so many characters I don’t know how to comprehensively answer this, haha. Meg probably would enjoy that. I think she drinks sometimes for fun or bc it seemed like a good idea at the time, but actually prefers non-alcoholic, because it’s not that great to her, and also because you have to not take your adhd meds if you plan on drinking that day as they interact, and amphetamine > depressant lol. I think she enjoys fruity mixed non-alcoholic stuff a lot. Specially if it got that 👌 zest 👌 to it.

Meg is a huge nerd who likes most of her favorite foods for fan reasons. Her favorite food is chocolate chip cookies with blue chocolate chips because of Percy Jackson. Favorite drink she would probably say is coke, but in reality it’s probably some kind of non-alcoholic cocktail she wouldn’t think to name.

Jake has a proficient pallet from being rich and can actually tell a huge difference in food quality, but hates this and is determined not to be the spoiled rich shithead who only deins to eat from a plate prepared by someone who graduated prestigious culinary school at the top of their class. Has forced himself to acquire a taste for lean meats and nuts. Would request like salted cashews if Meg was getting snacks & she’d throw a fit bc mixed nuts isn’t a treat and he would be offended she was judging his pick. Secretly really appreciates diligently and artfully prepared food. Does not like lamb. He will hunt and there’s not much he feels bad about eating, but he saw a lamb going to get slaughtered as a kid and absolutely will not stomach that as food ever since. Would feel weak & has probably only mentioned it to Dwight, or maybe Claudette, bc she’d never judge or be mean, or maybe Quentin, Kate, or Adam, because Quentin & Kate would agree, and Adam is like, the chillest man ever.

Dwight likes sea salt and vinegar chips, beers, Pepsi, pretzels, steak, and (secretly) those frosted animal crackers. Gets shit constantly for his taste in food and drink. Just wants to be left alone. One time Claudette drank a beer with him to make him feel better bc everyone else was making fun of him for liking beer and she is sweetheart.

Claudette enjoys a dish her mom makes out of fried onions, squash, artichokes, and optionally also mushrooms, probably more than any other food in the world. It is really good. Favorite drink is sparkling grape juice. It makes her feel like she is drinking champagne, but it actually tasted good, and won’t get her drunk or hungover. Also likes tea a lot. Most green and white tea types especially.

Nea likes almost anything with a cronch when you bite into it. Enjoys fish too, and curry the way Min makes it (which is very rushed college student but like, rushed college student with standards). Really likes empanadas after being introduced to them. Also genuinely really loved both Claudette’s amaranth oatmeal and her realm cookies, and since she and Quentin kind of ‘grew up’ inside the realm, it’s also like, surreally and kind of heartbreakingly, a nostalgic and comforting childhood memory to her. They remind her of times she was more okay as a teenager. :’-] Favorite drink is probably a kind of complicated cocktail that is very strong but also sweet and tangy, nursed for a long time. Or a sports drink if she’s on the go. (Lol her fave drink is just the alcoholic version of Meg’s).

Min likes anything spicy that is prepared well, but especially likes meat dishes. Girl wants her protein so she can kick ass. Really loves Ace’s cooking. Smell is 70% of taste. Spice it up, fam. Only knows how to cook 3 dishes on her own, but they’re a good 3. Doesn’t have a single fave. Although she does greatly enjoy just like, devouring a slab of meat if Anna cooks. It makes her feel like a powerful wild beast to just shred a flank with her teeth and she digs that. Fave drink is baijiu, although more in a competitive way because it’s alcoholic af & she can stomach it than actually for taste or pleasure. For taste she will just mooch off Nia & Ace, who both like fruity alcohol.

Ace likes a homemade bread recipe of his mother’s most (I think he and Frank are the only two with stated favorites in-fic?). Makes it a lot for the girls and for friends, and everyone likes it so this works out well. Enjoys martinis and any fruity alcohol, but is good about not actually getting drunk past lucidity. Also enjoys just really nice brands of various juice (mango is probably his favorite?)

Quentin likes his Dad’s pasta recipes probably most, but doesn’t have a favorite from among them. Also likes red velvet cake a lot because he only ever gets it on his birthday and it makes him happy. His mom died when he was really young and he pretty much doesn’t remember her, but one of the memories he still has is of her giving him birthday cake. It’s the time of year he always feels closest to her. Favorite drink is energy drinks because he’s stupid and likes to play god with his body and knock back adderall with shots of redbull. Didn’t like energy drinks so much before Freddy, and back then probably Coca-Cola or something was the fave, but now energy drinks are associated with comfort in his head, so he genuinely likes them. Also really likes M&Ms. Used to treat himself to a bag from the school vending machine if he had a shitty day, so they are also associated with comfort.

David likes chips (as in fries cut UK style/thick, not American chips). He is enlightened and sees the true value of all potato products as well, and honors them as such. Also is the enjoyable kind of person who genuinely & visibly appreciates most all good food. He likes beers too (you and Dwight, buddy) although he’s got better taste in them. His favorite drink is probably coffee though. He likes strong coffee, full body, with just a little bit of cream and sugar so it’s still bitter but has a pleasant edge to it. Not sure why that’s his favorite. He just really likes it.

Laurie likes strawberry milk. Would give that answer if asked for fave food or drink. If prompted further would consider, then suggest that as her drink, and some kind of really nice soup as her favorite—probably pumpkin. Will genuinely enjoy any gift of food someone picked out for her with some thought. Also loves Mac’n Cheese a lot, but would not admit to that to everyone because she’s kind of embarrassed that as many times as she’s had it in the past two years alone, her heart still sees a warm bowl and years for the good shit.

Kate likes fruit. Mangos, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, peaches, pears, pomegranates. Has the patience to eat a pomegranate too. Would just say “fruit” if asked. Loves to pick it fresh. Favorite drink is probably a smoothie, but she would insist that counts. What flavor would vary, but she leans towards blueberry or raspberry on default because she likes the colors.

Tapp likes Chinese food. Mostly this is because Chinese takeout was the nicest thing he could ever afford on the reg as a treat. However, he gets to eat real chow mein and mapo tofu (former made by Ace, the latter by Min—spicy mapo tofu being one of the 3 dishes she knows), and decides those are now his favorite food. Would not ask people to make that because it would be being a hassle, and he would think it wouldn’t matter and would be stupid & not worthwhile to request a dish when visiting a friend, but gets excited internally when they make that & gives sincere and generous compliments. Tried and failed super badly to learn how to make both, but Rachel Thomas (who didn’t know at all how to either but is great at teaching herself shit) helped him figure it out and now he makes them as often as he can without feeling like it will get old/annoy the people living with him. Favorite drink is whiskey but that’s for depression reasons. For genuine enjoyment, he likes probably just juice. Orange or pomegranate.

Adam shares Min’s enjoyment of spicy foods, but is really into trying new things and genuinely doesn’t have a favorite. If he had to pick, he’d probably say Bulla cake, because it is his favorite desert/treat. He really enjoys them & they are nostalgic to him. Good memories of his childhood. His uncle wasn’t always great at knowing what to say, but used to pack him one to take to school any time he knew Adam was stressed or intimidated by an exam or due project. Even if it went bad, he had a comfort reward for making it through. Always buys them when he’s somewhere he can. Favorite drink is tea. He likes a wide variety, but masala, jasmine, and ginger are some constant favorites. Would actually know, care about, and adhere to proper boiling/steeping times per tea type.

Jeff likes baked goods. He really enjoys the baking process itself a whole lot, especially if he has people he can cook for/share with. Definitely has created several original & very good bread recipes. Prefers bready goods to sweet ones. About the sweetest fave he has is basic scones (just bread/no nuts or fruit or filling. Slightly sweet bread with a little sugar on top, meant to be paired with jams etc when eaten). Likes those a lot. Favorite drink shifts from subtype to subtype, but is always one of his homemade craft beers. Also enjoys Dr. Pepper (ah I knew I was forgetting—both he & Joey also have some stated canon favorites. So does Susie).

Jane’s favorites are both things her dad makes. He has a really good ceviche recipe and a complicated secret recipe bean dip, and Jane likes snacking on those with a bowl of chips while chatting on the porch. Slow meal extends both fun of chat and fun of conversation. And her dad has a really good sense of spice use. She can make both well too, but is convinced they taste completely different when she does & distressed by this. Her dad insists they taste the same, but also always sympathetically packs her some time take home anyway. Her favorite drink is probably either coffee or wine, out of familiarity and comfort. She’s not very particular though. As a treat she enjoys moccacinos with a ton of whipped cream a whole lot though.

This was already super long so I’m gonna stop here, but I wood cry if I didn’t include at least Philip in what is now clearly just a survivor lineup. So honorary addition:

Philip likes anything really cold and refreshing. Prefers things with a little bite, so he would pick a cola or alcohol over a fruity drink. Not a big preference past that. Always touched and surprised any time a friend goes into a gas station pitstop and comes back with /any/ ice cold beverage for him, no matter how many times it happens. The gesture to him is very much genuine kindness instead of a friendly nothing. For food, he likes anything with enough substance to actually make him not hungry. So meat dishes are a big plus, as is nice bread. He doesn’t have a favorite meal-meal, probably, but there is a kind of cookie made entirely of egg whites and sugar, that is beaten and fluffy and sweet like a cloud and really delicious somehow despite having almost no substance. Philip had no knowledge of these, but Claudette made him some one morning she was feeling happy not too long after they both first went home to Montreal, and the meringue chocolate chip cookie variant she made was one of the best things he had ever eaten, and probably is his favorite food. They’re like little bites of the concept of sweetness without it being an overdose, and have a very unique and pleasing texture. With the chocolate added, it’s just right. 👌 And then also, of course, it was a gift welcoming to his new home, from the person who more or less is his new home. : )

[hinabes]

Cheese’s Backstory

Another facet to the Pizza trio’s story. Read the other two to get the full scope of what’s going on.

[ Cassata ]

[ Pizza ]

Warmth

“Ahh~ I’m stuffed~”

I pat my belly——bulging from being stuffed with food, and joyously returned to my napping Master Attendant. Due to her sickly body, only under the afternoon sunlight do her pale, thin cheeks show the warmth of life.

“So sleepy…”

Leaned against Master Attendant’s bed, I yawned and dozed off under the warm sunlight.

When I woke up, Master Attendant was happily chatting it up with another Food Soul.

This guy who always talks about this and that with Master Attendant is Pizza.

He’s the Food Soul of the King of this kingdom, my Master Attendant’s father.

Pizza visits Master Attendant every day, always bringing with him a small daisy for the vase by Master Attendant’s bed.

The daisy is Master Attendant’s favorite flower, and the King even made it the national flower to honor that.

That’s why daisies are planted throughout the castle grounds, every blossom like a little piece of joy, piecing together this little kingdom.

Of course, there’s another reason for Master Attendant to be overjoyed. Every time he visits her, he brings with him new stories about the kingdom and the outside world.

This is something that I cannot accomplish, always being by Master Attendant’s side.

Even though Master Attendant is the Princess of the kingdom, rarely does she leave her quarters.

Not for lack of desire, rather due to inability.

Being weak since birth, her naturally sickly body has always been feeble.

The King worries that the noisy atmosphere of the castle would interfere with her rest, and thus restricted her to the most secluded, quiet corner of the castle, awaiting doctors to treat her.

It is for that reason too that the King, busy with royal duties, isn’t free to visit his daughter, ever absent from her upbringing, in addition to her having long since lost her mother.

Alas, Master Attendant never expresses her woes to me, always silently gazing at the view outside the window.

And whenever there’s a disturbance, she immediately looks towards the still-closed door in anticipation.

She’s always awaiting a visit from the King, I know that much.

Like a representative of the King, as his Food Soul, Pizza’s visits have become ever more frequent.

One day, Pizza didn’t visit unexpectedly, and Master Attendant nervously questioned me.

“Why isn’t Pizza here yet? Has something happened to Father?”

“No way! Pizza probably just sneaked out to have fun, and hasn’t returned yet! Hmm, perhaps he’s being chased around by the stray dogs outside the castle grounds as we speak.”

“Is that so…”

Master Attendant’s response cements her expression of disappointment, her words in a completely different tone than when chatting and joking with Pizza.

But why? I’m making the same type of funny remarks as Pizza.

Master Attendant’s focus is always on Pizza, even though I’m by her side every day, I just can’t reassure her so.

What should do to make her happy?

I pondered for a long time and even started imitating Pizza’s every silly sentence, every childish tic.

“Eh? Cheese, why are you staring at me?”

As if he felt my gaze, Pizza cupped his head in his hands, sitting across from me, smile brighter than ever.

“I wasn’t~”

“Cheese, you eat so much cheesecake, you sure you’re not gonna get fat? … Hmm……”

Stuck between getting mad and laughing, I shoved the remaining cheesecake into Pizza’s mouth.

“How could you be so rude to a fair, young girl such as I!”

“Ughhhh...Ack……”

Choking on cake, Pizza couldn’t say a word.

His funny expression, however, caused Master Attendant to burst into laughter, as rarely as she does.

Of course, that wasn’t all that delighted me.

“Hehe, that’s right, little Cheese here is so adorable, how could she ever get fat~”

Master Attendant reached out to me, gesturing for me to sit beside her.

I couldn’t help but be overcome by a wave of warmth.

“Hmph! That’s right! I’m a magical girl, desserts are the source of my magic power!”

“Yes, it’s all thanks to Cheese’s magic, I feel my body improving every day~”

I know that I don’t have any magic, and I’m sure Master Attendant knows as well.

But even so, I wave my fork to cast a spell every morning and evening, to send a prayer to the gods above.

A prayer for my Master Attendant to recover soon.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll recover.”

I gazed at Master Attendant, wishing her the brightest, warmest smiles.

Tears

The gentle breeze of the month of Azure Skies has yet to be sullied by the summer heat, a white dove breaking the stillness of the clear, cloudless sky once in a while.

On this delightful day, Master Attendant was allowed a trip outside, an event ever so rare.

Though calling it a “trip” may be an exaggeration, for all she’s doing is visiting the castle gardens. Spreading out an off-white mat on the ground, laying out the usual afternoon snacks atop it, and it’s basically a picnic.

Even so, Master Attendant was overjoyed and seemed much livelier than usual.

“Master Attendant~ Won’t you try my handmade pastries, it’s filled with a magical girl’s healing powers~”

I retrieved a cheese pastry from the picnic basket and offered it to Master Attendant, eyes focused on her, brimming with anticipation, my tail wagging behind me.

“Being paid so much attention by a magical girl, I’m sure I’ll be cured soon.”

Master Attendant picked up the pastry, smiling wide, echoing my usual mantra, as if she truly believes it’s enough to cure her.

“Your Highness, may we join your picnic~”

“Of course. Take a seat, Pizza, Cassata.”

The ever-punctual daily visitor Pizza appeared, as expected.

However, this time he had company.

The newcomer is Cassata, a Food Soul the King picked up on a trip to the church.

Pizza handed Master Attendant a daisy the same shade as her hair, and sat down beside us.

Cassata, however, kept his distance and remained standing.

“Woah, this pastry is so thick and unevenly shaped, looks so weird.”

“Rude Pizza! I baked it!”

“Hahaha! No wonder, bottoms up~”

“Hold up! You can’t just eat it like that, it’ll taste much better with this sauce~”

“Eh? For real?”

“For real! Master Attendant can root for me.”

Seeing the doubtful Pizza, I winked at Cassata, who has been standing aside perfectly silent all this while.

I’m not as close with Cassata as with Pizza.

Though not for lack of trying, rather I don’t know how to strike up a conversation with him, and his reactions are always so lackluster.

It’s as if I can’t close the distance between us no matter how hard I try.

I’m just not sure how to get along with him.

Though, I find that we’ve come to an agreement regarding messing with Pizza.

Cassata received my signal and pointed at the half-eaten pastry in Master Attendant’s hands.

“Could it be you’re doubting Her Highness, the Princess?”

“... Alright.”

Master Attendant tilted her head and coughed, not saying a word.

Seeing the lack of dissent from Master Attendant, and somewhat concerned over her cough, he inquired no further.

He smeared the chili sauce I prepared over the pastry and took a big bite.

“——HOT!! CHEESE!!! CASSATA!!!!!”

Cassata immediately handed Pizza a glass of water. Grinning eyes filled with tears glanced towards the hysterical me, his face so red from holding back laughter he looked like he was about to pass out.

Master Attendant couldn’t hold back her laughter from this scene anymore, uncontrollable coughs accompanying her giggles.

I wanted to make Master Attendant happy, but seeing her eyes puffing up and reddening, all desire to continue teasing Pizza left me.

Master Attendant… She’s surely in pain right now.

If only… I really had magic capable of healing Master Attendant.

Abandoned

Not long after the picnic, Master Attendant’s condition worsened, and she even started coughing up blood. I dared not leave her side.

The busy King’s visits to her have increased.

The gentle father grasps his daughter's hands, reminiscing their time together in her childhood.

The King occasionally brings up the late Queen as well, but he becomes upset every time, chiding his own inability to fulfill the promise of a healthy life for Master Attendant.

It’s her turn to comfort the King then, telling him to not worry himself too much, that she’ll be fine.

All while I sit on the windowsill, gazing upon the condition of this father and daughter waning day by day, heart filled with just as much worry.

One day, the King arrived in Master Attendant’s room in unexpectedly high spirits.

“I’ve found it! I’ve found a way to cure you!”

“Is that so? Wonderful…”

“Yes.”

“Is it that Vita businessman?”

“Yes, he guaranteed that he’d cure you with his technique!”

Master Attendant has been ill for many years, has tried many techniques, has received many guarantees.

She didn’t have any faith in being cured this time either.

Though, seeing the King in such a good mood, surely Master Attendant is looking forward to it to some extent?

As if responding to the King’s anticipations, Master Attendant’s condition did improve.

She’s now able to go onto the balcony with my help to admire the scenery, a welcome change from the four bland walls of the bedroom.

Even I was convinced now, that this Mr. Vita can truly cure Master Attendant.

Yet good times don’t last, and Master Attendant’s condition worsened again, soon after.

That night, her coughs were more frequent and her throat hoarser than usual.

The blood she coughed up dripped onto her bed, soaking into the velvet.

Then, Master Attendant collapsed.

“Master Attendant! Wait for me Master Attendant! I’m going to look for Mr. Vita right now!”

I dashed out the door, unsure of how to start looking for Mr. Vita.

I’ve never seen this saintly genius, as proclaimed by the King, nor would I know where he would be.

Tears washed into the ground by the downpour, I placed all my bets on the King’s library, yet the guards stopped me from rushing in.

“Your Highness! My King! Don’t stop me! I need to find the King!”

Time is running out, and Master Attendant’s condition is worsening by the minute.

In a last-ditch effort, I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping it would pierce the thick doors.

“YOUR HIGHNESS! The Princess! She’s coughing up blood!!!”

The tightly shut doors burst open, and the King before me seemed like a totally different person than when I saw him a few months ago. His cheeks sallow and withered, he seemed in even worse condition than Master Attendant.

But the situation didn’t allow me time to ponder it, and I gripped the spears the guards were restraining me with and wailed at the King.

“Please… Please save Master Attendant!!”

His usually serious face twisted into an expression of remorse, immediately giving the order to summon Mr. Vita.

He pats my back, trying to calm me down before I return to Master Attendant’s side, yet I just couldn’t.

As if infected by my emotions, the King gritted his teeth and let out an unfinished thought.

“If only I knew sooner……”

I didn’t know what it meant at the time, fully focused on Master Attendant.

I had only the naive belief that there truly was a cure for Master Attendant’s illness.

Companions

Since that day, Master Attendant has been mostly unconscious.

Even though she occasionally opens her eyes, the time she spent awake gradually lessened.

At Master Attendant’s bedside, I glanced at the empty vase, and my breath hitched.

What’s up with Pizza and Cassata?

She’s so ill, yet they won’t visit her!?

On the contrary, it’s the King who’s constantly by Master Attendant’s side now, awaiting her whenever she wakes from her slumber and is with her until she next falls asleep.

The King’s face is filled with wrinkles, sunken eyes making him seem ever unsightly.

His sallow hands gripped hers tightly, always chanting quietly to himself.

“Don’t leave me, my child, I’ve found a cure, I’m sure you’ll get better.”

“Once Mr. Vita’s prepared everything, you’ll be able to live a healthy life like other kids.”

“Even though we might lose Pizza because of this, I just can’t lose you…”

I was surprised at the King’s words. “We might lose Pizza”? Did something really happen to them?

Suddenly, Master Attendant lurched upwards, coughing uncontrollably.

A large scarlet patch stained the white bedsheets.

The King immediately shoved me aside, hugging Master Attendant tightly.

His sunken eyes revealed an expression of hatred.

“You, all of you, you’re all so useless, one couldn’t protect the princess, the other won’t…”

The King didn’t continue, and I dared not ask for the whereabouts of Pizza and Cassata.

The King now was nothing like the kindly King of months past, as if a curse has settled upon him, causing him to spiral into insanity.

“All my fault…”

“If only I could find a cure sooner… If only… Huh? Why isn’t Mr. Vita here yet?”

“Didn’t he say it’d end today? Could it be Pizza’s fault?! Yes! Surely, surely it’s because he wasn’t cooperating…”

The King’s complaints worsened, mouth spewing hateful words all around.

“Father, it’s not Pizza’s fault, nobody’s at fault. You too, you’re the best King in my eyes, the best father… ugh……”

It felt like Master Attendant’s words were a premonition to something.

“That's why, please don’t blame anyone, Father, I hope… ugh… you will remain my kind, gentle father, and keep the gentle smile you always showed me and Mother… my… kind, gentle… father……”

Master Attendant smiled, gazing towards me seated on the ground, my tears flowing uncontrollably.

“Cheese, you have to go with Pizza and Cassata… get along… The days…. I spent with you… I was really happy…”

With a smile, her eyes shut slowly for the very last time.

“No! No! Don’t leave… don’t leave me… please… Open your eyes, my child…”

Unable to accept reality, the King hugged Master Attendant tightly.

Suddenly, the King stood straight up, as if he were possessed.

“I’ll get Mr. Vita here! He’ll have a way, surely, Mr. Vita will save you…”

As soon as the King left, I held Master Attendant’s lifeless body in my arms.

Her features were gentle as ever, the traces of a smile still remaining.

“It’s really gone, I can’t feel that warmth of life anymore.”

Caressing her pale cheeks, I knew, that the contract between us has been severed.

“Master Attendant, did you leave me with happiness?”

The peace brought on by Master Attendant’s passing was soon shattered.

“Quick! Over there!”

Hearing a mess of hurried footsteps outside, I set Master Attendant down on the bed and went out to check.

Only then did I realize that the castle was in a state of chaos.

“What’s going on?”

I questioned a soldier running past.

“Prince Carl’s residence is being attacked, the guards and soldiers are saying the intruders are Pizza and Cassata, they’ve murdered the King and are escaping the grounds right now. Just in case, please keep yourself and the Princess indoors.”

The soldier’s words sounded damned to me.

Murdered the King?!

Impossible! How could Pizza have killed the King?

And why are they at Prince Carl’s residence?

It was unimaginable, just what happened in this span of time?

I still didn’t have the reasons behind the King cursing Pizza either.

What should I do?

I looked everywhere I could think of, yet I still couldn’t find Pizza and Cassata.

Returning, I brought with me a daisy I found, placing it by Master Attendant’s bed.

I’ll be by Master Attendant’s side, this was meant to be.

Yet for some reason, when I glanced upon that daisy, I couldn’t help but recall Pizza’s silly smile.

“Cheese, you have to go with Pizza and Cassata… get along… The days…. I spent with you… I was really happy…”

Master Attendant’s words repeated over and over in my heart.

Suddenly, I remembered a secret tunnel outside I took with them.

That was the only way for me to get outside, always having to be by Master Attendant’s side.

It was also the last hiding spot I could think of.

With that, I bid Master Attendant farewell and ran out once again.

I couldn’t just sit by idly while they were in trouble. I had to find them, and ask them what exactly had happened to this kingdom?

And what happened to them?

I have faith in them and believe that they’ll be safe. No matter what, I will share their burden.

Because we’ve been best friends since the start!

Cheese

Cheese’s Master Attendant was the Princess of a kingdom, with long locks of golden hair the color of cheese along with beautiful features, yet did not receive the favor of the gods.

After the sickly Queen gave birth to the Princess, she died of anemia.

Yet even born through great effort, the Princess inherited the weak physique of her mother. Her body was always feeble, and the King even thought she’d perish at a young age for a time.

And so the King doted on the Princess, giving her his all.

Unable to accompany her due to his busy schedule, the King decided to have Food Souls be her companions.

Thankfully, even though the Princess was physically weak, she had the soul power potential to be a Master Attendant.

And thus, Cheese came into this world.

At the first sight of this adorable girl with big twitching ears, the Princess reached out her hand happily.

“Will you be my friend, Cheese?”

“Only if you’ll play with me, Master Attendant~”

Of course, Cheese understood that the sickly Princess couldn’t always play with her.

But since they were friends, that didn’t matter as she could be with the Princess.

The King’s Food Soul Pizza would visit often too to tell them about the outside world.

Cheese felt that this was a delightful lifestyle.

Then came another Food Soul, named Cassata.

Perhaps it’s due to him, that the Princess could feel reassured letting Cheese venture into the outside world with Pizza and have all the fun she wanted to.

Every time she went outside, she’d bring souvenirs back to the Princess, along with stories about the people and happenings outside.

From the trio’s adventures together to the misadventures of Pizza, Cheese would recount everything in complete detail, and the Princess was always delighted to hear about it.

Cheese always assumed that her, the Princess, Pizza, and Cassata would always live together happily.

When the Princess was cured, they could secretly sneak her out too, and even tour other countries together.

Yet the gods disproved, and the Princess’ condition deteriorated, all the King’s efforts in vain.

In a stroke of luck, the King heard of a man who claimed he’d be able to cure the Princess.

Who would’ve thought that this was the root of it all.

Pizza and Cassata’s mysterious disappearance, the King turning into a stranger.

The day the Princess departed, was the day it all began.

In an aristocratic revolution, the King ended himself over the pain of losing his daughter and the agony of being betrayed by his younger brother.

And so the castle descended into chaos.

In an effort to save their own skin, the nobles shifted all blame to the King’s most trusted Food Souls.

That is, the wanted criminals of guards and soldiers everywhere: Pizza and Cassata.

Due to the Princess’ words to her, Cheese steeled her resolve and left the Princess’ quarters.

She arrived at the secret tunnel, a discovery during a game of hide and seek, unbeknownst to anyone else in the castle.

Later, this became Cheese, Pizza and Cassata’s rendezvous point to the outside.

A secret shared by just the three of them, and Cheese’s only hope.

In the deafening silence of the tunnel, the dark surroundings pushed the girl to her limits.

Her Master Attendant has left her, will her only remaining companions leave her too?

At that thought, she curled up tight, only the sounds of her sobs echoing through the darkness.

After some time, she finally heard a familiar voice.

“Cheese?”

“Pizza?! Cassata!”

Lifting her head, Cheese saw Pizza’s pale face and Cassata’s, dripping with blood.

Not even leaving time to rejoice their reunion, Cheese’s face was already covered in tears.

“You, what’s with the two of you!?”

“Cheese, don’t… don’t cry…”

“Who’s crying! I’d never cry for the likes of you!”

Cheese dried her tears stubbornly.

“Cassata, why are you injured so badly? Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, it looks worse than it is, it’ll heal soon. I just got into a little accident~ Hehe…”

“Were you really at Prince Carl’s residence? And about the King…”

“We…”

Cassata stopped, looking pointedly at the silent Pizza.

“Where the hell did you two go!? The King and Master Attendant, they’re both… dead…”

Pizza remained speechless, he knew Cheese wasn’t kidding, his contract with the King had been severed.

Cassata looked at the distressed Pizza, rubbed Cheese on the head gently, and replied.

“We were at the wrong place at the wrong time, we intruded by mistake. My injuries are due to that too.”

“For real?”

“We didn’t kill the King, believe us.”

Hearing this, Cheese finally relaxed, the dam of her tears breaking down, and cried heartily against Pizza.

Details can come after a good bawling.

Knowing Cheese, Pizza didn’t give her a chance to blurt out her questions, instead immediately asking his once she'd calmed down slightly.

“Why are you here?”

“The Pr… The Princess told me to look for you.”

“What should we do now, Cassata?”

“Let’s leave this place.”

“Leave?!”

“I think, there’s no place for us here anymore…”

“Then, as we’d planned, let’s go on an adventure! Cheese?”

“I… want to go with you.”

As Pizza and Cassata’s eyes met, they filled each other with determination.

Pizza pat Cheese on the back, wiping away her tears.

“Don’t cry anymore, Cheese, let’s move on!”

Cheese wanted to speak, but words got caught in her throat as she heard Pizza proclaim, only managing to nod furiously.

No matter what, she didn’t want the two before her to leave her.

Pizza and Cassata were the only friends she had left.

[kikkieabby]

The Akuma Queen: Chapter 1-The beginning!

Kikkie: A story from my fanfic page. WIll upload a couple of other chapters later. Be warned, this story is rated 18! Which means dark shit will happen soon. Than you for ready and please enjoy!

It was dark…all I could see was darkness, I couldn't even see my hand that I know was right in my face. Where am I? Am I dead, did I fall down a hole of darkness?

"I am alone."

A voice echoed through the darkness, I looked around the darkness in search of the voice. It sounded like Ladybug's voice, but it was sad like she was crying.

"Ladybug!" I shouted. "Ladybug, where are you!?"

"It hurts Chat." She whimpered, was my love in trouble!? Where is she?!

"LADYBUG!" I shouted even louder, hoping my voice would reach her ears, but I still heard her cries.

"Leave me alone Chat, you can't stop this." Her voice echoed through the darkness before I could respond, a bright beaming light shined down on a female figure. But it wasn't Ladybug, it was Marinette. Why was she here, and why are there chains on her ankles?

"Mari?" I spoke as I walked towards her. When near, I gently pressed my hand against her back. Her pink jacket felt soft and fuzzy, and she smelled like fresh baked cookies.

"Go away Adrien, you can't save me either," Mari spoke. She slowly begins to turn her body around, letting me see her face. My heart almost stopped at what I saw.

"No." I whimpered at what I saw before me. Her face, the left side of her face had a broken Ladybug mask, while the right had a dark purple butterfly. What scared me the most was her right eye, the butterfly made her pupil black and her iris white. Both eyes were crying tears of rivers to the ground.

"Marinette, I will save you!" I shouted I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her cold body close to mine.

"You can't save what's been broken."

A voice echoed into my ear, I raised my head to see where it came from. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of Hawkmoth. I held Marinette's body close to mine in a death grip, I felt as if I let her go, she'd be gone.

"I won't let you take her!" I shouted.

"It's too late Adrien." Marinette whimpered before gently pushing me away. Escaping from my gasped, she walks over to Hawkmoth. The grown man smirks at the young girl before placing his hand on top of her head. A dark shadow then begins to engulf her body, transforming the beautiful Marinette into something sinister and dark. Hawkmoth smiles before saying:

"Welcome…Queen."

He said Marinette turns her body around to look at me. What I saw was not my lady, it was…terrifying. Without a second to waste I ran to Marinette, but I couldn't reach her. She raises her hand and begins to wave at me.

"Bye-bye." She spoke as she fades away with Hawkmoth. The light that was shining on the two begins to fade away. What the hell is going on!? Why is she running away from me! I didn't stop running, my feet started to hurt. I kept calling her name, but I didn't a response, all there was is darkness.

(Adrien Bedroom)

My eyes slowly begin to open to darkness, but it wasn't the darkness I was in before. It felt calm and homey, it was then I realized that I was just dreaming.

"Oh my god Tikki! What are you going to do!" Plagg spoke, I turned my head to the side and saw the black kwami sitting on top of my cell phone. A picture of Marinette was on the screen…wait, was he talking to someone?

"We need to get her help!" A voice responded through my phone, but it wasn't Marinette voice.

"Good luck, Master Fu is out of town, and my master is as dumb as bricks," Plagg said, I wanted to slap him there and then. But I just rose from my laying position and stared at the creature.

"We need to tell Adrien; Marinette is getting worse! She's even starting to talk to him in her sleep." The voice said. "I don't do something soon, this may be the end for Ladybug!"

Ladybug, did the voice said Ladybug? Wait a minute, Plagg is talking to someone that knows him through Marinette number! Holy crap, he's talking to her Kwami! MARINETTE IS LADYBUG!?

"What's wrong with Marinette?" I asked.

"She's sick, go to bed," Plagg responded it took him three seconds to turn around and look at me. "Tikki, I got to go, I will call you back later."

"You woke up Adrien didn't you?" Tikki asked.

"Yes, he did," I responded.

"Dammit Plagg, I told you to call me out of the room!" Tikki shouted. "Well, we might as well let him in on the plan."

"Who is this?" I asked.

"My name is Tikki, I am Marinette Kwami." Tikki spoke.

"So Marinette is Ladybug?" I asked I could feel my heart skip a beat, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, Marinette is Ladybug. But that's not important right now." Tikki spoke. "Listen to me Adrien, tomorrow Marinette is going to become…become…"

"Become what?" I asked.

"She's going to become a Queen," Tikki spoke, a queen. Just like was Hawkmoth said in my dreams. "Its one of the most powerful forms my friend Noroo can create."

"Noroo, Hawkmoth kwami I am guessing," I asked.

"Yes, two years ago when you started fighting." Tikki started. "Hawkmoth places a butterfly on Marinette heart. The ability is called Queen, what it does, it lays dormant in someone's heart and absorbs all negative energy need to become akumatized. As it gathers energy it grows, it grows until it wraps its self around the person heart and soul. When big enough, it burst, becoming more powerful than any Akuma you ever saw."

"Has this happened before?" I asked.

"Yea, about 300 years ago. Crazy bitch nearly ate me when my master got kidnapped!" Plagg shouted. "I don't want that to happen again!"

"Then listen to me! Look, Marinette going to change tomorrow. So, Adrien, you convince her to give my miraculous, which are her earrings, to you. Then, you take on the form of Ladybug and use the luck charm on her. It will not only destroy the butterfly, but also safe Marinette from becoming evil."

"Why can't she do it?" I asked.

"Oh yea, if you tell a person that they have a queen growing inside them, it makes the queen burst automatically, killing its host," Plagg said, my eyes widen in shock and fear as I imagine Marinette chest burst. Like those creatures from the Alien movie series.

"Holy crap," I muttered under my breath.

"Yea, so tomorrow you are going to take her earrings, use the lucky charm, and then possibly get a date from her at the end, maybe who knows," Tikki responded before hanging up the phone. I nodded my head before taking the phone away from Plagg. I go through my gallery and found a picture of Marinette, Alya and Nino smiling and posing in their bathing suits. It was the only picture I had of Marinette, and it was on the day the four of us went to the beach. That was a fun day, and I know more will come once Marinette and I start dating.

(The next day, Narrative POV)

"Ugh…"

Marinette moaned as presses her hand against her forehead. The 18-year-old girl was sitting in class, trying to concentrate on the words written on the board, but can't.

"Girl, you feeling alright?" Alya asked her best friend, Marinette nods her head, yes, but Alya wasn't blind. "I think you should go home."

"No, I am fine," Marinette said was she tried to stare at the board, only to yawn loud enough for Chloe to look at her.

"Miss! Marinette and Alya won't stop talking!" Chloe shouted, making both of the girls glare daggers at the woman. Marinette was about to respond to Chloe word with an insult but kept her mouth shut. Her body didn't have the strength to fight, let alone fight with Chloe.

"You okay Marinette?" Sabrina asked, even the girl sitting far away could see Marinette wasn't looking her best. Her cheeks were red, her face glittered with sweat, and her eyes were a little red at the edges.

"The bug." Adrien thought when he looked over to Marinette. "I need to get those earrings before the queen burst."

"I'm fine, just a little head cold," Marinette responded. The teacher didn't believe a word Marinette said, so she walked over to the young girl and presses her hand to Marinette head.

"You have a fever; I am calling your parents." The teacher said, Marinette stood up from her seat and was about to say something, but fell to the ground the next second. Almost everyone in the room gasped as Alya runs over to Marinette. Adrien stands up from his chair then leans down next to Alya, he gently pulls her body up from the ground. Carrying her bridal style, he makes his way down the stairs.

"We are calling your parents young lady!" The teacher said as Adrien carried her out the room. He takes the blue haired girl straight to the nurse's office, there, the woman in white begins to examine the young girl.

"Oh dear, when was the last time you ate?" The woman asked Marinette.

"Uh…yesterday night?" Marinette lied, truth be told she hasn't eaten a full meal in the last three days. She's been snacking most of the time, and the snacks weren't even considered a snack. They were more like, bites of food she nibbled on.

"Your papers say otherwise." The woman said. "I just called your parents, your father will be here shortly. I am going to give your teacher a note saying you must stay home for the next three days."

"Stay home!?" Marinette asked in shock, both Alya and Adrien looked at her in worry.

"Girl look at yourself, your sweating a puddle! You need to go home and rest!" Alya ordered her friend.

"This is just a small fever Marinette, all you need is some cold medicine and a day in bed." The nurse says as she pulls out a green slip from her desk chore. She picks up a pen from the desk and begins to write something.

"But…" Marinette eyes looked at Adrien, the young male was staring down at her with a smile on his face.

"Marinette you need rest," Adrien said. "Why don't you lay down and go to sleep."

"But…" Marinette responded, trying her best to say something. The words did not come out of her mouth though, instead, a quick breath left her lungs. Her upper body flops down on the bed, leaving her body to go limp. Alya gasped at her friend while the nurse reinsured the two that she will be fine. Alya walks out of the room with the nurse. Once gone, Adrien looks at Marinette red face for a few seconds.

"She so beautiful." He thought to himself as he watches the sleeping figure on the bed. When her breathing returned to normal Adrien quickly grabbed her earrings from her ears. He did it quick too, so quick she didn't notice they were gone.

"That was easy." Adrien thought as he sticks the earrings into his pocket. He then stands up from his chair and walked out of the nurse's office, just as the nurse and Alya were about to enter the room.

"Hey, I am going back to class," Adrien said with a smile. Alya nods her head before saying goodbye to the blonde boy. Adrien walks straight to the boy's bathroom to examine Marinette earrings, only to feel a cold breeze brush up his back. He looked over his shoulders to see a bright shining white light coming from the closed room door to the nurse's office. Screams can be heard as the light shined brighter. Bright enough to create its own shadow in the process.

"Oh no!" Plagg shouted. "It's happening again! RUN FOR THE MOUNTAINS!"

"Wait, what?" Adrien asked as the light dims down till it was gone. It was silent for a few minutes, dead silent. Swallowing the little water he had in his mouth, the blonde male walks over to the door to the nurse's office slowly. Making sure to be as quiet as a mouse with each step. Once in front of the door, he reaches for the knob to open the door. Plagg was sweating bullets as he grips the last piece of cheese in Adrien pocket. He opens the door to nothing but darkness, a black void of nothing.

"Marinette? Alya?" Adrien asked in worry, two pairs of eyes appear in the darkness. One pair was gold, while the other was green and blue eyes.

"Adrien." A voice was heard; it was a dark but seductive voice. "Come in Adrien."

"Who are you?" Adrien asked the Heterochromia pair of eyes blinked at his response. They then closed and seemed to disappear behind the darkness. Heels scraping the floor could be heard coming towards the boy. Coming out from the shadows, Adrien gasped at what he saw.

"Marinette?" He asked, the figure in front of him shake's its head no. The darkness that resides in the room slowly begins to spread to the walls outside the nurse's office. Making the bright yellow painted walls turn dark purple.

"Marinette is gone, she faded away in despair and sadness." The dark figure said. "I am the Queen of the butterflies. Bow down to your new ruler."

"And I am gone," Adrien said before sprinting away from Marinette, or rather the queen.

Kikkie: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the story!

[misgivings]

Halloween candy, ranked

43. Peeps: Plumbing caulk. Leftover foam party residue. I don’t care if you made it look like a cute little ghostie. It’s still meringue with poor self-esteem.

42. Popcorn balls: At least hand out apples, Mom.

41. Weird off-brand chocolate wrapped in foil: If a candy sits in a bowl and no one eats it, is it still candy? At what point does it become an artifact?

40. Candy pumpkins: The candy equivalent of eating crown molding. This is for decoration.

39. Candy corn: Though it is similar to its pumpkin-shaped colleague, the saving grace of these most divisive Halloween candies is that you can stick them on your canine teeth and pretend to be a vampire with gingivitis. What would you call that flavor, anyway? Expired sugar? Dull resignation to the way things have always been? Be better to yourself.

38. Lollipops: Dum Dums are legit. Anything else takes too long and keeps you from eating other candy.

37. Bubblegum: See above. As a Koopa shell is in Mario Kart, so this is. It just gets in the way. Don’t get me started on Blow Pops.

36. Smarties: Some blackboard chalk magnate is cackling at the greatest scam ever pulled.

35. Swedish Fish: Like a fine malbec, one cannot appreciate Poseidon’s gummiest children until adulthood, and even then only if they have particular tastes. They’re not worth putting in a festive cauldron for all to enjoy.

34. Taffy: No one else is in on the joke, grandma.

33. Jellybeans: I want to shove candy in my mouth, not consult a chart just to figure out if I’m about to taste lemon or pee.

32. Jolly Ranchers: These are a prize for many children, enticed by a shard of glass that will turn their tongue blue. The discerning confection connoisseur knows they’re one-note and cloying.

31. Airheads: Only ranked higher than taffy because it doesn’t double as a low-cost dental filling. Softer, gentler, still inessential.

30. Nerds: These are heterosexual Pop Rocks.

29. 3 Musketeers: You get out of life what you put into it. If you put in only nougat, you become the elevator music of candies.

28. Milk Duds: I love a Milk Dud. I hate needing a Waterpik and a blowtorch to not look like Austin Powers when I’m done.

27. Pixy Stix: One one hand, I respect the simplicity of distilling the concept of candy to straight-up sugar granules. On the other hand, it’s like ordering coffee at Starbucks and just getting a cup of beans. Do a little work, man.

26. Hershey’s Kisses: This is a Christmas candy.

25. Hershey’s Bar: It’s like eating a dry baked potato. Sure, you can do it. But you don’t have to.

24. Sweet Tarts: Smarties are Olivia Newton-John at the beginning of “Grease.” Sweet Tarts are Olivia Newton-John in leather pants.

23. Sour Patch Kids: A year-round favorite of kids, and for good reason, but don’t you find all that sour sugar gauche?

22. Kit Kat: Humble and workmanlike, like a dad who works nights.

21. M&Ms (peanut): This will be an upset ranking, but I don’t care. These are not bad, but I’ve never eaten a bag of plain M&Ms and thought, “I wish this tasted like a free snack from a bar.”

20. Snickers: The prototypical candy bar. You’ve got your chocolate, your caramel, your nuts. Somehow, that chewy devil, nougat, snuck into this party. But all things considered, it’s earned its prestige.

19. Milky Way: There is a small chance I just don’t love peanuts in my candy.

18. Twix: The main problem with candy in general is that it’s not cookies. These sugary Frankenstein sticks found a crunchy, chewy gap in the market and filled it like capitalist heroes.

17. Almond Joy: A flood of tender, tropical sweetness mixed with crunchy, hearty almonds and enveloped in milk chocolate. My stance on nuts is becoming more inscrutable by the minute. I guess sometimes you do feel like a nut.

16. Pop Rocks: For the kind of Halloween that says, “I WANT CANDY TO PUNCH MY TONGUE REPEATEDLY BUT ALSO HISS INSIDE ME LIKE A MELTING SNAKE.”

15. Nestle Crunch: Look no further for evidence that texture is a major player in the confectionary Hunger Games. The defined ridges on the Crunch bar are fun to bite into; the crisped rice mixed in keeps the sensations coming with each chew.

14. Whoppers: They’re like little eggs filled with crunchy powder that taste like an ice cream treat. Weird, but good! They’ve been around in some form since the late 1930s, which is exactly the era in which you’d think someone would create something called a “malted milk ball.”

13. Lemonheads: This list has not been kind to harder candies, but Lemonheads (and to a lesser extent, their various fruit-flavored siblings) combine a sweet-and-sour lemon flavor that’s not too precious with a layered texture experience. Bonus: The creator named them after his newborn son because he thought the baby’s head looked like a lemon. Delicious and inspired by a casual insult to an infant!

12. Starburst: Picking up taffy’s slack since 1960.

11. Skittles: Just not the purple ones.

10. 100 Grand: This candy bar makes me feel like I have clear pores and a Roth IRA.

9. Tootsie Pops: See, lollipops? All you needed was a little punch of chocolate in the middle to transcend this world.

8. Dots: Soft, juicy and unique in their interpretation of a classic fruit palette. Don’t sleep on these gumdrops.

7. M&Ms (plain): Peanuts are a distraction. I meant it.

6. Reese’s Pieces: On the other hand … You’re going to start noticing a theme, and it’s that I will praise peanut butter like I’m a choosy mom who chooses bribes from the peanut butter lobby.

5. Twizzlers: Black licorice? A poisonous hose. Red Twizzlers? A delicious, edible soda straw.

4. Gummy worms: You could slot any gummy product here, because they’re all pretty legit, but the worms take the trophy home with their name engraved on it, due to the fact that they’re spooky.

3. Tootsie Rolls: It has recently come to my attention that many people dislike Tootsie Rolls. This happened when I expressed my love for it at work, and my colleagues shrieked like I’d told them our newspaper was pivoting to video. They are wrong, and I question their moral fiber. Tootsie Rolls are chewy, they have a mellow cocoa taste and they’re really hard to melt. Also, this fact, per the Tootsie Roll website, is bonkers and worthy of respect on the creepiest holiday: Inventor Leo Hirshfield’s “recipe required the incorporation of the previous day’s Tootsie Rolls into each newly cooked confection, a graining process that Tootsie continues to this day. As such, there’s (theoretically) a bit of Leo’s very first Tootsie Roll in every one of the sixty four million Tootsie Rolls that Tootsie produces each day.”

2. Butterfinger: Just enough of a peanut butter flavor to be warm and familiar, but just different enough to be its own thing. Perhaps the most gorgeous of the candies on this list — more treats should look like geologic formations when you bite into them. Crispety, crunchety orange shale forever.

1. Reese’s Cups: King candy. The reigning champion of decadence. You know you’re in charge when your name becomes synonymous with your flavor combination. When I worked at Amy’s Ice Creams, we were told the peanut butter cups were one of the most expensive crush’ns. Royalty knows its worth. Now, figure out a way to get more peanut butter in that cup.

(source)

[wellnessroutines]

100 Best Paleo Diet Recipes We Love

Full disclosure: I had no concept just what the paleo diet regimen was till I began creating this post. I presumed it was an additional vegan-ish diet regimen, with no meat permitted and also insane limitations, however it's actually a diet I could support. Not only does it sound incredibly healthy and balanced, yet the 100 paleo dishes I rounded up look past tasty. My loss schedule is now full of paleo recipes I cannot wait to prepare up!

What is the Paleo Diet?

If you're brand-new to the paleo diet like me, it's also recognized as the "neanderthal diet regimen." It's a diet plan based upon the foods apparently eaten by our hunter-gatherer ancestors consisting of fruits, veggies, meats, fish and shellfish and nuts.

The concept behind it is that the food that modern (will certainly) male is eating today is causing health and wellness issues as well as persistent conditions not faced by our forefathers, as well as if we eliminate these foods, we're a lot more most likely to live healthier, much longer lives. We require to go back to consuming actual, entire unrefined foods that profit as opposed to hurt our bodies. Basically: ditch the wheat, sugar, lab concocted foods, and also chemically refined vegetable as well as seed oils.

What's Off-Limits On The Paleo Diet?

A large component of eating paleo implies a grain-free diet plan. That includes all grains, no matter whether or not they are gluten-free. (Gluten-free diet plans as well as the paleo diet plan are various in that gluten-free diet plans still allow some grains like rice and also quinoa - basically grains that don't contain gluten.)

There are a great deal of various opinions available on just what it means to be paleo, and you can determine exactly how rigorous you intend to be. But a strict paleo diet regimen is totally grain-free. Rigorous paleo likewise indicates no dairy products and also no beans like black beans, garbanzo beans or kidney beans. I was certainly a little went nuts by the prospect of eliminating every one of the tasty cheese, yogurt and also hummus dip I like to snack on. One glance at my lengthy checklist of paleo diet regimen dishes makes those worries go away since these concepts look amazing!

It's additionally absolutely feasible to follow a "mainly" paleo diet regimen and also simply concentrate on reducing out all fine-tuned and processed grains, sugars as well as oils, and eating mainly vegetables, fruits, meat, eggs, fish and shellfish and also some nuts.

If you want to know more concerning the paleo diet regimen, I advise the complying with books to obtain started: Paleo for Beginners: Basics to Obtain Begun, The Large 15 Paleo Recipe book, and The Paleo Diet plan: Shed Weight as well as Get Healthy by Eating the Foods You Were Developed to Eat.

There is a lot of science out there around the cases made by individuals that are really pro-paleo, so you can determine for yourself if you think your health might benefit from making the switch. Some advocates think a stringent paleo diet plan will certainly help improve autoimmune conditions, and virtually every person proclaims the weight-loss benefits. (Be advised, nonetheless, since there are a plethora of paleo-friendly dessert recipes available on the internet!)

100 Best Paleo Diet Recipes!

Regardless of whether you go full-on paleo or simply dip your toe in the water a couple of evenings a week, you are going to love the meals I have scoped out for this checklist. I wish you enjoy these beyond delicious paleo diet plan dishes as high as I am going to!

These are the 100 ideal paleo recipes I might find!

PALEO BREAKFAST RECIPES

No Fail Paleo Pancakes, Gluten Free (Keep Fit Mother)

Dairy Free Frittata with Treasure Tomatoes (Bravo for Paleo)

Sweet Potato Hash with Sausage and also Eggs (Delicious Meets Healthy and balanced)

Paleo Chocolate Piece Banana Bread (Bakerita)

Veggie Breakfast Casserole (Paleo Jump)

Paleo Delicious chocolate Waffles (PaleOMG)

Easy Paleo Ham and also Egg Cups (Paleo Novice)

Lemon Poppy Paleo Muffins (Prepare Eat Paleo)

Paleo Morning meal Cookies (Gluten Free on a Small)

3-Ingredient Paleo Dessert Potato Waffles (YURIELKAIM)

Paleo Banana Bread French Toast (Paleo Gluten Free)

Paleo Morning meal Muffins (Gal on an Objective)

Paleo Sugary food Potato Hash Browns (Bravo for Paleo)

Paleo Chocolate Zucchini Bread (Growing On Paleo)

Whole30 Breakfast Hash (Little Coconutty)

Nut-Free Lemon Blueberry Scones (Well balanced Bites)

Paleo Pumpkin Coconut Healthy smoothie (Chef Consume Paleo)

Paleo Coconut Pecan Morning meal Bars (Mother Youthful in the house)

Simple Hemp Seed Porridge (The Tidy Dish)

Buckwheat Granola (Win Success Food)

PALEO LUNCH RECIPES

Cuban Picadillo Lettuce Covers (The Beneficial Premium)

Paleo Egg Roll in a Bowl (Genealogical Nutrition)

Paleo Buffalo Hen Pizza Poppers (Evil Spatula)

Paleo Artichoke Pesto as well as Sausage Pizza (Real Straightforward Excellent)

Bunless Chicken BLTs (EMeals)

Paleo Balance Bowl (Little Little bits Of)

Whole30 Paleo Cabbage Rolls (This West Expense Mother)

Mexican Paleo Super Bowl (Honey as well as Figs Cooking area)

Paleo Sweet Potato and also Rocket Salad (Cultivate Charm)

Paleo Egg Salad (Bravo for Paleo)

Crazy Excellent Peanut Noodles (Kelley as well as Cricket)

Super Gyro Meatball Bowls (Paleo Parents)

Cilantro Lime Fajita Salad with Honey Lime Vinaigrette (My Natural Family)

Paleo Pizza Soup (Jay's Baking Me Crazy)

Paleo Avocado Tuna Salad (Cook Eat Paleo)

Healthy Broccoli Salad with Cashew Curry Dressing (Food Faith Physical fitness)

Taco Salad with Creamy Cilantro Dressing (Well worth Cooking)

Cajun Garlic Shrimp Noodle Bowls (Lexi's Tidy Kitchen area)

Whole30 Poultry Tenders (Littles Of)

Avocado and also Dijon Turkey Burgers (My Healthyish Life)

PALEO SNACK/SIDE DISH RECIPES

Paleo Swedish Meatballs (Layered snappy)

Easy Thai Carrot Soup (Vegan Family members Recipes)

Paleo Nut Power Bars (Tastes of Lizzy T's)

Asian Cucumber Sesame Salad (A Saucy Cooking area)

Healthy Coleslaw (My Natural Family members)

Rosemary as well as Sesame Paleo Crackers (The Healthy Foodie)

Chicken and also Zucchini Poppers (One Lovely Life)

Creamy Cauliflower Soup (Lows to Luxe)

Guacamole Deviled Eggs (Elana's Pantry)

Baked Carrot French fries (Healy Eats Genuine)

Sausage, "Potato", as well as Spinach Soup (Sweet Potatoes as well as Social Modification)

Paleo Samosa (My Heart Beets)

Paleo Coconut Salmon Bites (Worthless Spatula)

Bacon-Wrapped Dates (Our Savory Life)

Chipotle Stuffed Mushrooms (Jay's Cooking Me Crazy)

Ultimate Paleo Path Mix (Nurture My Gut)

Dark Chocolate Dipped Paleo Snack Bites (Take 2 Tapas)

Cauliflower Pizza Bites (Worthless Spatula)

Sugar Free Caramelised Nuts (The Huge Male's Globe)

Pumpkin Pie Energy Bites (Paleo Grubs)

PALEO DINNER RECIPES

Paleo Honey Sriracha Hen (Ancestral Nutrition)

Lemon Garlic Herb Crusted Salmon Dish (My All-natural Household)

One-Skillet Paleo Mediterranean Chicken (Paleo Novice)

Spaghetti Squash Chow Mein (Little Little bits Of)

Salmon Hamburgers with Avocado Garlic Sauce (Real Food Dieticians)

Creamy Mushroom and Pork Covered dish (Foraged and also Enthused)

Honey Sesame Hen (Jay's Cooking Me Crazy)

Gluten Free Pizza Crust Dish (Bravo for Paleo)

Adobo Chicken Burgers (Food and Sunlight)

Crock Pot Cauliflower Poultry Chili (Chef Consume Paleo)

Turkey Pot Pie Soup (Ancestral Nutrition)

Barbeque Chicken Stuffed Sweet Potatoes (Living Loving Paleo)

Easy Moroccan Beef Stew (As well as Right here We Are)

Bacon Herb "Pasta" Salad (The Curious Coconut)

Paleo Beef Kebabs (Rubies and Radishes)

Easy Butter Poultry (Lows to Luxe)

Paleo Cajun Burgers (Versus All Grain)

Shepherd's Pie (Joy-Filled Sustenance)

Korean Design Spicy Poultry (Eat Drink Paleo)

Slow Cooker Beef Stroganoff (Wholesomelicious)

PALEO DESSERT RECIPES

Paleo Pumpkin Coffee Cake (Jay's Cooking Me Crazy)

Paleo Crepes with Strawberries (Noshtastic)

Crunchy Coconut Paleo Macaroons (Paleo Hacks)

Homemade Twix Bars (Bakerita)

Paleo Cinnamon Sugar Pumpkin Donut Holes (Texanerin)

Paleo Chocolate Chip Cookies (Our Grain-Free Life)

Chewy Coconut Bars with Mango and also Pepitas (Foraged Dish)

Paleo Cinnamon Rolls (PALEOHACKS)

Paleo Edible Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough (Wicked Spatula)

Coconut Strawberry Lemon Night clubs (Gastro Detects)

Key Lime Cheese Cake Bites (Paleo Hacks)

Paleo Cake Pops (Civil Caveman Cooking)

Snickerdoodle Paleo Cupcakes (My All-natural Family members)

Crazy Great Paleo Blondies (Frisky Lemon)

Paleo Apple Crisp (Paleo Newbie)

Chocolate Pistachio Mousse (My Whole Food Life)

Paleo Dual Chocolate Baked Donuts (Lawn Fed Lady)

Paleo Cookie Dough Fudge (Bravo for Paleo)

Paleo Blueberry Lemon Fig Muffins (Advantage as well as Fork)

Paleo Blueberry Muffins (Living Loving Paleo)

There you have it, 100 paleo diet plan recipes to load your dish schedule and your tummy. Whether you're a paleo novice or enthusiast that is searching for some new options, these paleo recipes are the most effective of the best!

[aliesteem]

The Wonderful World of Focaccia

Great original photos were lost in the making of this writing piece. I’ve googled the best photos I could in replacement!

In the world of baking and pastry, there are thousands and thousands of unique foods rooted as cultural staples. Focaccia is one of them. A flavorful and traditional Italian bread. There is, surprisingly rich history behind the cloud-textured bread. I’m exploring it as well as a review of the focaccia I’ve eaten at bakeries La Focaccia of Eataly and Amy’s Bakery from taste, texture, composition to appearance. 

First off, we must know what focaccia is exactly.  As we know focaccia is a flat Italian bread but also known as the Roman words “panis focacius” literally meaning bread. It is a truly easy bread to create. All Recipes Magazines tells its readers “This may be the fastest yeast bread you make; it takes only one hour from conception to completion” It only consists of the simple ingredients of flour, water, dry yeast, salt, and olive oil. Historians believe that this basic recipe originated either in Northern Italy, ancient Greece or Rome before the growth of its empire. In the early years of focaccia, its dough was dimpled lightly with oil and baked on a piping hot tile on the face of a fire. These dimples can also be called dotting. The History of Focaccia Bread by Abigail’s Bakery describes dotting, “this creates multiple wells in the bready by using a finger or the handle of the utensils to poke the unbaked dough.” Within the process of baking the bread would be punctured to release steam from the bubbles that would accumulate on the surface of the bread. After, moisture is preserved by wetting the bread with more generous amounts of olive oil in these wells. According to The History of Things, focaccia wasn’t always meant to have risen during cooking. Their article states “Historically focaccia was unleavened, the recipe rises naturally in the right climate” over time yeast was added to give height to the bread in quicker time.  

There are other changes of focaccia that altered over time. The focaccia was once associated with Christmas Eve and Epiphany and only be eaten at that specific time of year. Since then Italian cuisine has branched out. Focaccia is now eaten all year round. New flavors have been incorporated “They can contain olive oil, rosemary, sage, garlic, cheeses, and onion. There are also sweet recipes of focaccia containing eggs, honey, raisins, anise, sugar, and lemon or orange peel.” Cultures in around the world such as Burgundy, Argentina, and Spain have their own versions of focaccia called fouaisse, fugazza and hogaza.  

There is also the continuous misconception that focaccia is merely pizza. “Focaccia is not pizza; it is not even a Sicilian deep dish pizza. Focaccia doesn’t have cheese on it; it’s actually flatbread … it is generally not as fluffy as focaccia” says It’s Not Pizza … its Focaccia article by 2gourmaniacs. In Italy pizza and focaccia are seen as two widely different foods. It is often foreigners or those unfamiliar to the cultures that confuse the two. Pizza is its own full meal whereas focaccia is considered a light snack or accompanying a dish such as soups, cooked meats, and salads or as sandwiches.  

I made a phone call to Amy’s Bakery of Chelsea Market on Manhattan’s 9th Ave and W. 16th street. I told them I was doing my own research of focaccia for a blog. The lady over the phone was thrilled and agreed to give me free focaccia to taste and assess. When I arrived there the next day with my friend. I love Chelsea Market. I’ve been there in the past, the colorful, unique shops is stimulating and exciting every time I go there. As I walked into Amy’s Breads I went to the cashier and gave my name. They were incredibly friendly and immediately knew who I was. An employee went in the back room and came back with cute, small paper folded neatly at the top with a note with my name and a smiling face stapled to the top. It was so adorable and kind. The employee asked me to go to the side of the store where she gave the paper bag and explained the flavored focaccia. I was given fragrant rosemary focaccia that also smelled of sweet vinegar.  I gave a piece to my friend and then took a big bite. I was immediately disappointed.  The focaccia was crusty but not in a good way. It tasted super dry, stale as if it was left out for a long period of time. Looking past the texture, the flavor wasn’t redeeming. The tangy, overbearing, vinegar taste took over the entire bread leaving my mouth sour. I felt as if I was forcing myself to chomp it down. I put the remaining bread back in the paper bag, rolled it up and stuffed it in my purse to give to my family members later on if they wanted it. I appreciated the great hospitality of Amy’s Breads but I didn’t enjoy their actual food. I went to go buy a bottle of juice to wash out the tang from my mouth. My friend did like it a bit more, however; consuming the entire big piece she had in her hand. She told me it could be the delight of free food that altered her perception of the focaccia and honestly I think that’s exactly what it was.  

The same day I arrived at my second bakery, La Focaccia. La Focaccia is a bakery specializing in breads in the famous Eataly market located on 5th Ave and 23 street in Manhattan, New York City.  I didn’t call beforehand plus I was in a rush this time around so I had to hurry up and buy. The atmosphere of Eataly was just as fast-paced as I was and La Focaccia itself was packed with a long line. The employees were quick to serve customers but did not have any hospitality as in connecting with the customers. There was barely any eye contact but I’m sure it was because of how congested the area was.   Luckily, I was tended in a matter of minutes and purchased a thick slice of focaccia bread topped with ham, basil, and mozzarella cheese for about $5. At very first taste I was impressed. The focaccia bread had a nice golden, brown color. It had a soft texture to the tongue  and the flavor was simplistic, the ham added the perfect touch of saltiness. The mozzarella added pleasant moisture and the strong kick of the basil herb came in and brought it all together. I liked this focaccia so much I gobbled it down. I thoroughly enjoyed La Focaccia’s bread and would definitely go back again. Amy’s Breads and La Focaccia are both bakeries that focus on breads specifically.  Experiencing the hospitality of their stores and the focaccia product itself I grasp just how dissimilar they are from each other. Amy’s Bread’s for one has inviting employees. They smiled, laughed and remembered customer’s names automatically. Whereas in La Focaccia, workers seemed much disassociated with no time to engage with customers other than to sell. When it comes to pure hospitality and quality of communication between buyer and seller Amy’s Bread wins with no argument at all.  

On the reverse, La Focaccia’s focaccia was delicious and well-made. The focaccia was so tender with a soft chew. The flavors were powerful but did not overwhelm me like the rosemary and vinegar at Amy’s Breads. I could tell that La Focaccia makes their breads fresh often where I sense that Amy’s Bread bakes focaccia themselves but may store batches for the following days and it’s easy to detect in the dry cardboard feel.   When I look into what these bakeries advertise I have a better understanding on why the results of their focaccia bread are the way they are. Amy’s Bread’s website elaborates what they provide in-store, “We offer a full selection of morning pastries, sandwiches, and salads, cookies, bars, cupcakes, layer cakes, coffee and espresso beverages”  From this I see Amy’s Breads has a wide focus on what they serve and what I found out from the manager the focaccia there is only made seasonally.  Focaccia is not Amy’s Bread’s specialty where it is at La Focaccia. On  La Focaccia’s website, they immediately state on their main page, “Eataly's bakery (La Focaccia) offers an abundant selection of focaccia, an Italian flatbread topped with high-quality ingredients.”  Visitor’s come mainly to La Focaccia for the Italian flatbread. It would make sense that this bakery would have perfected their focaccia recipes and procedures more so than Amy’s Breads. Evaluating texture, taste, and appearance La Focaccia has the better bread product easily. If a bakery had the hospitality of Amy’s Breads paired with La Focaccia’s quality of product it would create an all-round excellent experience.  

[sunshinedreary]

The Peanut Butter Sandwich

Once, in middle school, I saw my father make a peanut butter sandwich and I’ve never forgotten it.

Peanut butter is a critical food in my life, and always has been. I’m fond of saying that if I ever develop a peanut allergy I will be fucked beyond all comprehension because there’s a lot of peanut butter consumption happening here. Whenever I admit this fear, I shine it up with a layer of humor, but I am actually afraid of its potential to materialize. A woman I know and love ate peanut butter often for many years of her life and then stopped eating it for a spell, no reason in particular. When she started eating it again, she realized she had developed a peanut allergy and hasn’t eaten it since but told me with sorrowful eyes and a disappointed mouth that she misses it every day. This tale radiates Edgar Allan Poe levels of foreshadowing and horror for me, despite the fact that it is delivered by a tall slip of a garden-goddess whose short gray hair sparkles and whose eyes shine with love and positivity on the grayest day. I cannot break up with peanut butter; ours is a relationship that has existed for a very long time.

Peanut butter is an Everything Staple for those of us who don’t [YET] have a [MAYBE? JESUS CHRIST, MAYBE?] peanut allergy. Part of why I eat it so much probably stems from the fact that I grew up with a single mother who lived in a constant state of obsession over what she ate, and by extension, what I ate. Before you get mad at her, let me assure you that there was no shaming going on, no judgement. While it was impossible not to personally imprint the world’s view of people who don’t have tiny figures, my mother approached food almost empirically, like she was a food scientist pulling apart the complex chemistry of nourishment to decipher the reasons why things that tasted so good could attach to her thighs and belly and then turn from flesh into an emotional burden of guilt and self-scrutiny. I like to say I am making up for lost time with long-lost food loves from my childhood and the picky first quarter of my life, peanut butter lives in that forbidden pantry for me along with garlic, sour cream, and sugar cereals. Look, I don’t write sonnets and poetic love couplets about garlic as a result of being given a stepfather who loathes its very existence, YOU DO.

Anyway, my mother never made me feel bad about myself and how I looked, she always encouraged and loved me. But her intense focus on the food she ate sort of rubbed off on me and stigmatized certain foods that I ate. Sometimes it was a direct attack: peanut butter was in the cross-hairs, probably because I always wanted it. I’d happily eaten regular Jif during all of my early years and then somewhere around the time I turned eight, she became convinced that peanut butter was going to make us both sick and give us cancer. She’d already had breast cancer, but was understandably concerned about staying in remission, so the conventional wisdom at that time was to worship at the shitty altar of low-fat foods. From that moment on, my life was a guessing game of When Is Peanut Butter Evil And When Is It A Friend? My mother wavered between ostracizing the delicious, sugary, and fatty foods we liked and determinedly choosing the reduced fat EVERYTHING. There was no constant, but certain food items were more demonized than others. To whit, I still feel guilty as a 38-year-old adult looking at sugar cereals in the grocery store. I feel like she knows. And she doesn’t like it.

Reduced fat Jif, by the way, is like a thick, congealed, freakish science experiment that’s gone wrong: the sugar and the peanuts stopped emulsifying at the exact moment when they were destined to be at their most disgusting states, and just before it all hardened up, someone stirred in a healthy dollop of earwax. Sorry for that.

I just want to be clear that regular Jif is excellent (and the only peanut butter to use in baking). I like the Crunchy Jif too, but if we are going with the maximum awesome for crunchy peanut butters, I err on the side of Skippy Extra Crunchy, because: yes. If you want to know about natural peanut butters, I will always pick crunchy natural peanut butter, and it’s got to be Crazy Richard’s or Teddy for me. When they add salt to natural peanut butter, it’s a food crime. Come at me.

You begin to see that my relationship with peanut butter is not unlike a great romance (or a Shakespearean comedy where I am Falstaff, but with peanut butter instead of spirits), fraught with ups and downs. Allow me to complicate it a little more:

Every time I pull out a butter knife and use it to slowly and carefully spread whatever type of peanut butter I happen to want at that moment on whatever type of bread I happen to have at that moment, carefully…out to the edges…I think of my father, not my mother. Why? You want to know why. I just wasted a shitload of your time on a peanut butter soliloquy that orbited my mother’s decades-long audit of a nut butter, not discussing the fact that my dad is an actual asshole who ruined peanut butter sandwiches for me over the course of perhaps 27 years of my life.

Here is the plain truth: for all of my mother’s food obsessions, reduced fat Snackwell cookies one day and Saralee pound cake, Mrs. Richardson’s fudge sauce, and vanilla ice cream the next, the confusion she created only manifested with food items, not with WHO I WAS or WHAT I LOOKED LIKE. My father used food as a weapon to shame me into whatever it was he thought I should be (I still don’t know what that is, by the way). My confusion is compounded because I couldn’t deny my paternal genes if I wanted to: we are all short, thick, and would have made excellent peasants back in the dark ages. What I’m saying none too bluntly is that not a one of us are pulling any awards for shapely figures or gorgeous looks. Middle of the road in all ways physical.

My parents divorced when I was three and my father had custody every other weekend (I was not a fan of this). He eventually remarried, conveniently, the weekend before my mother got remarried, in the same month of the same year. Every other weekend, my father and stepmother would deride and scold me for what I ordered if we went out to dinner; they would stare at every bite I took, and control the food in the house so I never ate without them knowing what and how much. My stepsister was tall and thin, whereas I am rather shaped like a frostycone, so I suspect that she did not have the same rules imposed on her when I was not around. I would ask for snacks and they would say no. They did everything but lock the pantry. We were allowed dinner on Friday night and then one lunch item on Saturday before dinner. I was restricted. My stepsister ate what she wanted, when she wanted, and would quietly slip away from time to time. We know why.

My mother bought me a super heinously ugly sweater at The Gap once when I was in eighth grade. It was thick and bulky, sprinkled with white and green pine trees and white horizontal stripes over a light gray background. If I’m honest, it was not real on-brand for The Gap, I am still shocked to this day that they sold such a shitbird design in their stores, so naturally I hated the shapeless wonder and refused to wear it until my mother guilted me into it (precisely twice). The second time I wore the sweater was the last time. It was a Sunday afternoon and almost time for my father to bring me home, which put me in a good mood. He and I ran into one another in the living room when I came downstairs for a drink of water. He hadn’t seen me yet that day, and I will qualify the WTF-ness of not having seen him all day by telling you that before he got remarried, the public library in town spent more time with me than he did. He and my stepmother did whatever they did downstairs (their bedroom and office were on the first floor) while my stepsister and I watched TV upstairs in her bedroom. My father’s face immediately flashed in anger and he grabbed the sleeve of my sweater, “What is this shit you’re wearing? Why do you always look so bad? Why can’t you ever wear clothes that LOOK GOOD?”

I just stared at him, gobsmacked, feeling much like a tennis ball that just got walloped by a Williams sister. Strangely, the first thing I wanted to say to defend myself was, “She bought it at The Gap, isn’t that good enough for you?”

Yeah kid, the class issues are the real heart of the issue here.

I never ate peanut butter sandwiches at my father’s house, even though they always had Old Pride wheat bread and Jif Creamy peanut butter. I remember because I saw my father make a peanut butter sandwich once. It was Saturday, between lunch and dinner. I was standing in the kitchen and my father pulled out the yellow plastic bag of Old Pride- the nutty wheat smell breezed out, little flecks of grain sewn into a soft pillow ready for its fate as a sandwich. The lid unscrewed from the Jif quietly and that immediate, powerful smell of peanut butter hit my hungry stomach. My father swirled the peanut butter across the bread, an inch thick. It seemed unthinkable to me and my eyes grew wide. An inch thick. Even when peanut butter was not on the bad list at my mother’s house, it was meant to be used sparingly; I never had full autonomy free from guilt when I made my peanut butter sandwiches. An inch thick. I think my father noticed my face because he hastily layered the top piece of bread on his completed sandwich and gave me a look that was half angry, half embarrassed before removing all traces of food and walking down the hall to his office. An inch thick. I will never forget it. I can still see the countertop, the bread, all that peanut butter- not for me. Made by someone who did nothing but diminish me in ways I still can’t reconcile.

I wish I could make a peanut butter sandwich without thinking of him, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying them. Luckily, he is only linked to the creation of the sandwich and not the relishing of its taste, texture, and smell. It’s these weird, nuanced moments that show me where he broke me. But there are strange, funny things I associate with my father as well. He calls long toenails “lunch hooks” and I will never know why, but it makes me laugh. He taught me the ideal way (in my opinion) to eat a muffin: slice it in half horizontally and butter the inside of each half. I still say, “Don’t let it get away from you” about staying on top of tasks and that is purely my father. I’m militant about notifying people when I receive things from them in the mail, because he told me it’s the right thing to do, AND IT IS. When he laughs, it’s rare, but it’s a deep belly laugh, and it’s nice because he only does that when it’s true. My father is not a sympathy laugher, he’s not here to make you feel good about anything. He’s worked hard to educate himself and gain upward mobility in his jobs, but he’s also been an asshole to a lot of people in his personal life. I just know he is not allowed to be an asshole about my motherfucking peanut butter sandwiches anymore.

Update 4/15/20: I haven’t thought about my father while making a peanut butter sandwich since I first wrote this. I’ll take the win.

[medicalnewstoday]

High Protein Snacks   Market research to Reflect Steady Growth Rate by 2028

High Protein Snacks: Market outlook

The growing health and wellness trend has created strong demand for functional and fortified food and beverages significantly over the past years. The high protein snacks are protein fortified snacking options which have potential functional benefits for consumers. The high protein snacks are derived from animal-based or plant-based protein sources and made into on-the-go snacks to cater the consumers need for a round-the-clock snacking option.    

Growing Snacking Trend and Increasing Consumer Demand for Healthy Protein Rich Diet is Paving the Path for High Protein Snacks

Snowballing urbanization and industrialization have resulted in the busy and hectic lifestyles of consumers. This hectic lifestyle has given rise to new eating habits that are unlike the normal three-square-meals eaten at the family table. Consumers are spinning towards round-the-clock snacking every time hunger strikes. However, consumers are also becoming more thoughtful about their snacking choices. They are opting for healthier snacks containing nutritious and natural ingredients, free-from claims and labels that are beneficial to their health and wellness. Thus, the consumers are turning towards protein fortified high protein snacks to mitigate their hunger. Healthy snacking is a growing food trend. Today, an ever-increasing number of snack bases are made with nuts, fruits, vegetables, beans, seeds, or combinations, to provide more protein and fiber to consumers, and offer healthy high protein snacks to the consumers. Besides, the consumers are preferring higher protein snacks as they fulfill the basic nutrition needs of the body, provides energy, cuts down the excesses fats and cholesterol, and also keeps individual satiated for longer.

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Global High Protein Snacks: Market Segmentation

On the basis of product type, the global high protein snacks market has been segmented as-

Protein Bars and Balls

Processed Meat Snacks (Jerky, Sticks and Bars)

Chips, Crisps, & Pretzels

Breakfast Cereals (Protein Flakes & Granola)

Bakery Products

Others

On the basis of nature, the global high protein snacks market has been segmented as-

Conventional high protein snacks

Organic high protein snacks

On the basis of source, the global high protein snacks market has been segmented as-

Animal Based high protein snacks

Plant Based high protein snacks

On the basis of distribution channel, the global high protein snacks market has been segmented as-

Store-based Retailing

Hypermarkets/Supermarkets

Convenience Stores

Mom And Pop Stores

Discount Stores

Food & Drink Specialty Stores

Independent Small Groceries

Other

Online retailing

On the basis of region, the global high protein snacks market has been segmented as-

North America

Latin America

Europe

Asia Pacific

Oceania

Japan

Middle East & Africa

Global High Protein Snacks: Key Players

Some of the major players of high protein snacks market include: Vitaco health Australia Pty Ltd., Small Planet Foods, Inc., Quest Nutrition LLC, The WhiteWave Foods Company, Clif Bar & Company, Powerful Men LLC, Kellogg Co., Buff Bake, YouBar Manufacturing Company, General Mills, Inc., Premier Nutrition Corporation, Naturell Inc., Bakery Barn, Inc., Bounce Foods ltd., Good Full Stop Ltd., Kashi Company, Hormel Foods Corporation, PowerBar, Inc., Iovate Health Sciences Inc., and TruFoodMfg Company

Key Takeaways: High Protein Snacks

In 2018, Optimum Nutrition, a sports nutrition brand launched two high protein snacks namely ON Peanut Butter Chocolate protein and ON Protein Almonds cake bites in U.S to target health and wellness conscious demographics of the country.

In 2018, Quest Nutrition, launched Protein Chips based on Tortilla Style. The savory snacks feature at least nine times the protein of normal chips, and nearly 75 % lower net carbs, according to the company.

In 2016, Mars launched two protein bars under its Mars and Snickers brands in the UK, to cater the growing demand for high protein snack bars from the consumers.

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Opportunities for Participants of High Protein Snacks Market:

Regions like North America and Western Europe are anticipated to have an increasing demand for high protein snacks due to increasing health and wellness conscious population and growing snacking trend among the consumers. Protein fortified food industry in North America and Europe is witnessing bolstering demand which is providing new growth opportunity for the high protein snacks market in the region. Besides, Asia Pacific is expected to have a growing market for high protein snacks. This can be attributed to raising awareness amongst consumers regarding nutritious and high protein content products, and increasing per capita expenditure on food and beverages in countries such as China, India, and ASEAN.

Manufacturers are trying to make products more nutritious, following the protein trend in food. Consumer awareness regarding better ways to pull off weight loss, anti-aging, and other health-related issues through the consumption of naturally sourced protein is compelling many manufacturers to offer high protein snacks with health benefits. Innovations in high protein snacks are expanding the consumer base even from the health-conscious community. Other trends such as the demand for organic and naturally sourced ingredients are also trending in the snacks industry resulting in the growing demand for organic high protein snacks. Manufacturers are well aware of the altering consumer trend and growing preference towards plant-based products and healthier lifestyle, and hence, are trying to update their inventories with more and more plant-based high protein snacks.

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The high protein snacks market report offers a comprehensive evaluation of the market. It does so via in-depth qualitative insights, historical data, and verifiable projections about market size. The projections featured in the report have been derived using proven research methodologies and assumptions. By doing so, the research report serves as a repository of analysis and information for every facet of the high protein snacks market, including but not limited to: product type, nature, source, distribution channel, and regional markets.

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