#all homemaking stuff.

[frobby]

I think it would be really funny if rin was the more helpful one around his house. Like u would think rin would be the disrespectful one who always bails on housework or mass but its actually yukio who would always have an excuse not to go or forget about chores to the point that rin just does them instinctively now

[lunarharp]

being attached to that moment qifrey held a baby one time and my ideas for the future :)

[enbyfication]

recently i have realised that. cooking is so good 10/10 actually 1 of my main sources of (non-social) joy. if u do not cook try and cook just a little somethin somethin. it can be so so easy i promise it can be a little rice with sum broccoli. it can be whatever u want. it is so fun

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Just thinking about the time when I was 17 and the boy I was dating told me that had received revelation that he would be a prophet in the future and that I would be the wife to get him there. He also had our whole future planned out where I would sell my car, he'd buy a truck, and we would move to another city and open a flower shop for him to run. I broke up with him that night. And now I realize I probably started dating him because he reminded me of my narcissistic father, so I thought emotional manipulation and abuse was normal. This was also the moment I started to see that emotional abuse is not only considered normal in the Mormon religion and culture in which I grew up, but highly encouraged in males. Many, many boys I went on dates with had similar traits. They flat out told me the reasons why they were not into me, which include: I am too highly educated, I read too much, I like to travel, I do not want at least eight children, and I make my own decisions. Apparently those are unattractive traits for a single Mormon girl to have.

Now as an adult I am happy, single, and not Mormon.

[radiantroseofice]

A shared moodboard for Opal and Carter for @jonahmagnus ^^ featuring crystals, strawberries, baking, and lots of pink!

(sources: X X X | X X X | X X X)

[thrassisfras]

I feel like I wouldn't have such a beef with Pride and Prejudice if I hadn't been forced to watch it so much as a kid because they needed a movie all the girls would like.

[homunculus-argument]

Hii I'm asking you this because I've seen you post about Finnish grammar and stuff before. So I'm learning Finnish, and I also use duolingo because like free practice and duolingo keeps giving me this word but they refuse to translate it. Please I need to know what pulla means because in my native language it means dick and the duolingo characters keep asking for this mysterious pulla item with coffee and until I find out all my brain can hear is "i want coffee and dick please"

It's a type of finnish pastry, traditionally offered to visiting guest with coffee. A type of sweet bread roll made from wheat flour and flavoured with cardamom, generally with nib sugar sprinkled on top, as pictured above. They look and sound very simple, but they're surprisingly hard to make. Much like in baking bread, you've got to get the temperatures just right for the dough to rise, because yeast will die out of pure spite rather than let you succeed.

One particular reason why they're so iconic and beloved in Finland is because they take skill to bake and also don't keep well. They're delicious when they're fresh from the oven, but in 48 hours that delicious steaming roll is a solid dry rock that you could use as a makeshift hammer and tastes like crumbs and sadness. So in order to have them fresh, someone has to have baked them specifically for you, or at least the same morning.

You probably would have been satisfied with just the first sentence of this post for explanation, but I got started running my mouth and I'm having fun so I'm going to go on.

Pulla is one of those distinct cultural things that one grows up with that is so mundane and commonplace where you've grown up that it surprises you to hear that it's not universal. In finnish the term for a stereotypical idealised maternal domestic goddess housewife is "pullantuoksuinen kotiäiti" - literally "stay-at-home mother that smells like pulla". I've heard the expression used both as genuinely praising and snidely dismissive way to describe a woman who wants to be a mother and homemaker instead of having a career, but that's how much of a deal pulla is to finnish culture.

You can describe a person as "pulla-scented", and everyone can immediately picture what kind of a person this is. Someone who is a skilled enough homemaker to make good pulla, whose home is warm and welcoming because it smells like freshly baked pulla, which she has baked for you because she loves you.

I have plenty of things I was planning to do today and writing an essay about pulla was not one of them.

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love watching youtube videos about tiktok and influencer drama, mainly because I'm completely disconnected from stuff like that (I have never watched an influencer video in my life) so it gives me the thrill of true crime without the tragedy exploitation aspect, but sometimes I also feel completely disconnected from the youtubers too?

Like every youtuber has to offer up a million disclaimers about how they aren't judging influencers or whatever and that's usually fine but like. I do feel that there ARE points where people need to be judged for the content they're sharing and promoting and profiting off of!

"I'm not judging tradwives or saying their content is bad—" I am!! I am absolutely judging tradwives! Extremely harshly! Because the entire "tradwife" movement is conservative propaganda based on misogynistic and patriarchal ideas about history with no basis in reality or in our modern world! And tradwife influencers explicitly target young women and especially teen girls and try to convince them to put their entire lives in the hands of their husbands, which is a horrific recipe for domestic abuse!

These women making hundreds of thousands of dollars off tiktok videos (and often coming from extremely wealthy families) are out here telling young girls that they don't need an education, that they don't need their own income, that if they're just pretty enough and obedient enough then they'll find a rich husband and never have to worry about anything ever and it's fucking scary! And I don't know why we are tolerating it!

We know what happens when people, especially women, give up complete control to their partners. We know what that leads to, resentment and extreme control and total lack of options when things go from totally fine to constant arguing to violence. These influencers, who ARE making extremely significant personal incomes from their jobs as influencers online, lie through their fucking teeth about how perfect it is that their husbands do everything for them and all they have to do is take care of the kids and home (with the help of nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs off-screen. . .) and about how they've escaped from capitalism, meanwhile the people actually in those situations who AREN'T making all that extra cash are either already in abusive relationships or they're in incredibly precarious positions where they could end up abused or thrown out with nothing in an instant.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be a homemaker or stay-at-home parent. I don't think it's wrong to not want to go to college or have a 9-5.

But you NEED options. You need full access to your own money that can't be monitored or controlled by a partner. You need access to a vehicle. You need a life outside of your home and family, especially friends who are willing and able to help you if needed. You need the ability to survive on your own in some way. Because if and when things go wrong in the relationship, THOSE are the things that will save your life.

Also remember that again, these tradwives DO have jobs and their jobs involve selling a fake lifestyle and fake ideals. They are getting paid BIG TIME for the shit they peddle to you, whether that's through the millions of views they get (both from genuine fans and from haters, the algorithm doesn't know or care about the difference) or the many sponsorships they get, they have incomes that they are not disclosing. They have help that they are not disclosing. Many of them started out with extreme wealth but lie through their teeth and cosplay as fucking homesteading peasants. It's all a lie to sell shit to you. Don't buy it.

Disclaimer: Please do not nitpick this post, it's very late and I'm ranting and if this leaves my circle of followers I will regret it deeply. Be nice. Tradwives dni, you're all annoying.

[weebsinstash]

I know it's dumb but I keep thinking about the whole applemedia x reader soulmates idea but it occasionally drifts into "what if they're not poly or ever become it over time BUT they're chill with sharing you BUT for the rest of forever they keep being super competitive over your affection" type shit and. Just.

Imagine Lucifer getting you pregnant and you think it's this, one time thing because, oh wait yeah he's the Devil, that makes sense, and he's lording over the other two that you and him are gonna have a baby, that now he has this extremely special connection to you and there's a piece of you and him now, and maybe you had wanted to be a parent anyways so they also see how happy it makes you

Then the new tiniest Morningstar is born and, you know what? Vox and Alastor ARE jealous. They're just. Forced to third wheel watching you and Lucifer with your new baby and, of course they still get included in things too, but... they hold your baby and suddenly they're painfully aware they can't have one with you, which starts to suck when spending time with you and Lucifer's baby makes THEM kinda want a baby of their very own too 🥺👉👈 they can't help it that your baby is a piece of you and it's just so cute and precious to them and they wanna love and protect it forever

I just started thinking about. The scenario being that everyone just assumes you got pregnant because Lucifer was the father but it turns out to actually be, either soulmate magic or whatever or, you as the mom have this unique special power and, thus. You get knocked up again by one of the other ones. Imagine sitting there in the OBGYN having your magic ultrasound and whatever and Lucifer finds out he's not the dad. It's less anger and more shock, confusion

I keep thinking of cute scenarios, like... you and Lucifer have your little baby and like months and months later Alastor is watching you cook at the stove with the baby in a sling as you talk to them and kiss the top of their little baby head and, it makes Alastor feel all warm and tender and sentimental, watching you be a little homemaker with your little baby, cooking a delicious hot meal... and then later that night you're just so tired from working so hard all day, and he's all too happy to tend to you now, pampering you, getting you whatever you please, leading to some cuddling, which leads to... other things...

Boom. Pregnant again. Everyone thinks it's Lucifer's until the first prenatal check up where it turns out to very obviously not be his. Vox is jealous in a very "well why them and not me" kind of way but he's also a sort of "ugh, snot nosed kids" kind of guy and tries to maintain a facade that, actually he's just so based and cool being the only one who ISN'T a dad

...until one day you're walking around your living space and you poke your head into a room and, there's Vox, showing some or his trading cards to you and Lucifer's daughter because she liked the pictures and he's answering all her little questions of 'what do these ones do'. In another instance, Vox achieves the most personal victory over Alastor by getting his and your son into video games and you walk in and your little boy is in the tech mogul's lap with the controller in his hands, "so then I use this one, right?" "Well, I dunno, remember what I taught you about the type system? I dunno if that one would work very well, little buddy" and you're just, melting a little, and you talk to him about it later, how you've noticed him bonding with the little ones, kind of teasing him a little bit about, 'is he going soft', 'wouldn't he want a little boy or girl to run up to him all 'Daddy this level is too hard can you help me beat it'' and stuff like that and, maybe he's even 🥺 insecure. He doesn't really have much experience with this kind of thing. He's not Lucifer or Alastor and, what if you don't think he's a good dad? What if his kid doesn't like him? What if he messes up and you hate him 🥺

So of course maybe you're even a little baby crazy because you know he wants one and, you might joke a little that, "it's only fair each of you gets at least one right :)". But. Then. Boom you're pregnant but, different! Cause now it's twins and Vox is gloating to the other two about 'his magic cock' and. They're both just. Almost like little kids, it flips this switch in them like, "well why does Vox get TWO kids, that's not fair 🥺"

You could still be in the delivery room holding little Gas Pedal in one arm and Radiator Fluid in the other and you're just watching the three of them, "well, I've wanted another baby for a while! I was just... being patient!" "You snooze you lose, asshole!" "Well there was never any formal agreement upon stopping at just one child each, so-" "oh, oh what, so you're both just gonna make another kid just to get one over on me? You're so petty, fuck both of you!" "Pettier than you having twins to beat us?" "That doesn't even make sense!" "Oh, so you admit it WAS out of your power then?" "Oh fuck you!"

You're just looking into the camera like you're on The Office because you've already endured several years of them being like this and you suppose This Is Just How Your Life Is Going To Be Now. Your new horny chaotic loud obnoxious lovable life as you now have to convince these three not to turn your body into a clown car as their baby fever and competitive edge spirals out of control forever and ever

[offkilterkeys]

I feel like this is something that’s never talked about, especially in relation to Rose and her alcoholism.

sorry for being vicious and hateful for a moment but every time someone acts like rose's mom was A Good Parent Actually and conveniently ignores the fact that children with good parents generally do not sneak around the house to avoid face to face interactions and heavily resent them and make frequent suicide threats i have to bite my tongue it's so annoying. just because rose was Previously Wrong about her mother doing things to spite her specifically and Acts like she (13 year old at the time child) was the major one at fault for their strained relationship doesn't mean that was actually the case. mom lalonde was a bad parent!!! she emotionally neglected her kid severely and was drunk all of the time and substituted elaborate gifts for actual tangible and meaningful gestures of affection!!! even in pesterquest (which i don't necessarily count as canon at all by the way but it's still something to note) it is implied that rose has to make food for herself (the oatmeal line)

(this is not something a 13 year old should have to do frequently)

it's just very frustrating can these people please understand that most if not all of the homestuck kids/trolls all had suboptimal upbringings (at best). sorry for going on about this i just think people need to realize when a child is going through abuse (in the form of neglect in this case) even when it's not explicitly said

[batwritings]

Alright, picture this. The reader’s a complete pest to 141, but Ghost in particular. Nothing too serious- but they’re always stealing stuff and messing with Ghost. Think Rouge and Knuckles from sonic.

They’re enemies, no doubt about it, but they don’t exactly hate each other. Eventually, one thing leads to another, and Ghost teaches them a lesson. But, not that the reader’s complaining..

Maybe he keeps her alive as his trophy wife, or something? I don’t know why, but the thought of him turning a villain into a pretty little homemaker drives me FERAL

-Hybrid

I CANNOT EXPRESS ENOUGH HOW FOND I'VE BECOME OF THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE-- Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were chopping up vegetables when you heard the door shut rather violently. All of your instincts from years on the run kicked in, and you crept around the corner with your knife in hand. "That better be you Simon Riley," you barked into the darkness of your living room.

"Who the hell else lives here?" Simon growls back, clearly not in the mood to be snapped at. You breathe a heavy sigh as his mask comes into view by the low light of the kitchen. "Put the knife down, it's been too long of a day."

"Well unfortunately for you," you say, swaying your hips as you saunter back to your cutting board. "I need this knife for finishing dinner. Go get your eye shadow off and I'll have a hot cuppa ready for you when you're done."

"Cheeky little thing today you are," Simon mumbles before lumbering off to do as you asked. You made the best tea for him, that was something he'd certainly give you. "Reminds me of when we first met."

You shiver a little at the memories that bubble up when he says that. You could vividly remember those hands pinning you to the brick wall of the building behind you when Ghost finally caught up to you. You'd been tormenting him and his little squad for months, batting your eyelashes with coy smiles and blown kisses as you escaped his grasp time and time again.

"You are such a fucking tease you know that?" he'd growled when he finally had you pinned. You gasped a little as his strong hands pulled your pants and underwear down in one smooth motion so they pooled around your ankles. The fact that you couldn't see what he was doing and roughly he was handling you had your cunt absolutely dripping. "Time you learned a lesson."

His words were dark as you felt him use the slick leaking from your slit to lube up his cock. A gloved hand covered your mouth as you moaned out when he entered you. "See sweetheart, that mouth of yours has such better uses than talking," he rumbled, a quiet groan escaping him.

The sex was rough and fast, something you'd never forget. You could practically feel his thick member pounding away at your cunt over and over when the high-pitched whistling of the tea kettle caught your attention. You shook your head as you rushed to take it off the heat, pouring it into the mug you'd set up for Simon.

A set of hands on your hips made you nearly jump out of your skin as the light stubble of your lover's chin rested against your shoulder. "Daydreaming again are we?" He hums, clearly very amused. "If you needed me to manhandle you again, all you had to do was ask love."

You bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together as his hands traveled up your waist and over your breasts, squeezing gently. "L-let me at least finish dinner first," you whine, gasping a little when his thumbs easily unhook your bra from it's clasp in the front.

"The appetizer can wait. I want the main course now."

[no-saints-no-scholars]

Hear me out: Duncan's got more homemaker skills than Courtney.

Courtney's parents were always focused on her academic life and career. They got her private tutoring any time she slipped, had her in all advanced classes, and they made sure she never did an extracurricular she couldn't put on a resumé. But they never taught her any regular life skills.

It's not like she's clueless, though. A lot of stuff is common sense. She's too much of a neat freak to have a messy dorm or apartment, and she can do her own laundry, but she can't cook. She ruined her new frying pan the day she bought it trying to make eggs. She doesn't know what to do when her bookshelf collapses the first week of college, and resorts to stacking her books next to her desk. She burns a hole in one of her most professional looking blouses with the iron when she doesn't realise fabric can melt.

So when her favourite jumper begins to unravel, the pale purple one with tiny flowers on the cuffs, she very nearly cries about it. It's just a jumper, but Courtney is nothing if not particular. She knows there's no replacing it.

When she mentions it to Duncan, frustrated and not thinking much of it, he raises an eyebrow and asks why she doesn't fix it, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

"How would you even begin to fix it? There must be half a foot of wool coming off already, and the hole's in this super awkward place by the elbow."

"So you didn't try?"

Courtney goes a little red in the face at that.

She doesn't expect Duncan to come over the next day with a banged up biscuit tin and ask to take a look at the jumper himself. He inspects the damage, careful not to tug at any of the loose loops of knitting, and looks up at Courtney.

"This is the "huge hole", you mentioned?"

She might have exaggerated a little, but she's emotional about this, damn it. Duncan sighs, and grabs the biscuit tin. He cracks it open to reveal a sewing kit, packed full of loose fabric and needles and threads of every colour.

"This won't take long. Put the coffee pot on."

Courtney bites her tongue about manners and does as she's told, pouring them each a cup while she watches Duncan work.

It shouldn't surprise her that he has this stuff. Most of his clothes look D.I.Y'd somehow, with little tears and patches tacked on. But the scene before her is just so uncharacteristically domestic. He tries mending the hole normally at first, but the yarn keeps fraying when he tries, and he huffs before rummaging through the sewing kit.

When Courtney sets his cup down in front of him, Duncan is sewing what looks like a loose scrap of fabric over the hole.

"I had some blank patches left over and this thing is being a bitch, so it'll have to do."

After some time, he hands the jumper over for Courtney to see. There's an oblong white patch neatly stitched onto the left sleeve, covering the hole, and the elbow entirely. If she didn't know better (and if the other sleeve wasn't blank) Courtney would almost think that the jumper came that way- the evenness of the stitches is shocking.

Courtney blinks. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"My mom. I used to fuck up everything I wore within a week, and she always fixed it. She showed me how to do it myself when I was ten." Duncan takes a sip of his coffee. "You're welcome, by the way."

Courtney rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "Right, thank you. Really."

"You really didn't think to do it yourself?" Courtney opens her mouth, and it's like Duncan can sense the indignant response before she gets a word out. "I'm not judging, I just figured little miss C.I.T would know how to do this stuff."

She huffs. "Not all of us were burning holes in our shirts before 8th grade."

"It was barbed wire, thank you very much. And it's still a good skill to have."

"My parents were just focused on teaching me other things, and it's not like I ever needed to know before now."

"Uh-huh." Duncan looks at her, thinking.

"I could always teach you anyway?"

"You'd teach me to sew?"

Duncan looks down at his cup. "Well, not just that, but yeah. I just don't wanna be the one to fix all your shit."

Courtney crosses her arms. "It was one hole in one jumper, Duncan."

"And the bookshelf?"

She flushes. "I just haven't got around to it!"

"Sure you haven't."

Courtney thinks, rubbing the soft wool of her jumper between her fingers. She gets a small hole in one jumper, and suddenly it's like she's hyperaware of how little she knows. Sure, not everyone can sew, but it's not just that. She doesn't want to admit to Duncan how many times she's eaten out this semester after burning her dinner, or how many times she's called Bridgette in a panic over her dishwasher making weird noises.

"...I guess it couldn't hurt. To get a second opinion."

Duncan smiles. "Whatever you say, Princess."

[ftmcora]

wanting to start your detransition but don’t know how to look more feminine?

here’s some detransition tips!:

• wear mascara

• style your hair to the side/femininely even if short

• wear lipstick

• wear jewelry like necklaces and earrings

• wear feminine clothing (doesn’t even have to be a dress/skirt, just cute pants and a cute hoodie/shirt at first)

• watch feminine content (AKA, motherhood, homemaking, makeup, style, family)

• stop all testosterone

• make sure to shave, including arms

• be confident in your own femininity!

• get into your own feminine side, i’ve gotten into baking lately!

~ my DMs are open if anyone wants to talk & stuff ^^ <33

[spurgie-cousin]

I'm an ex-conservative Christian woman and as someone who spends a lot of time in exvangelical spaces, I can confidently tell you that the forces get their fair share of mocking lol.

You tagged this with "female class consciousness" which is confusing to me since this isn't mocking anyone's class or anyone stuck in an abusive situation. It's mocking the woman who have the means and agency to do better but choose this ideology anyway out of sheer arrogance or greed and then peddle it relentlessly to the women you're referring to, who do NOT have the means or agency to change their situations. They have the power to influence vulnerable women in a positive way, and yet they spend their time teling these women to tolerate abuse and mistreatment and sacrifice their entire selves for the comfort of their husbands.

You'd be surprised to know how many of these female conservative podcasters/influencers didn't grow up with these extreme beliefs, but chose them later in life (sometimes suspiciously around the time they start their influencing career). They know centrist/moderate political and religious content doesn't sell and push these beliefs regardless of how it may affect their very at risk listening demographic.

So yea for these women in particular, I don't think this very tame joke at their expense is going to do much harm.

[fountainpenguin]

Tango POV Session 3 highlights (My first POV this session, jumping in with no spoilers)-

Skizz: "I want a giant blinking heart in the sky" Tango: "Cool idea :) You're doing the redstone, right?" Skizz: ... Tango: "YOU'RE doing the redstone for that, right?"

Skizz: "While editing I was like... 'Am I a loser?' Tango: "No, no, no! It was well before editing that I realized that."

I do love the server dynamics that give us gems like Mumbo sprinting across the ground yelling about how he has a quick, urgent thing he needs to do... Just an average day in the death game.

slkdjf Tango and Skizz finally found someone just as desperate and needy as them... Enter the man who has been shunned for 3 seasons because of his boogeyman kill. We love a BigB!!

BigB: "Skizz, this might be time to point out my weak building skills-" Skizzleman: "Oh no, don't worry. That's why we've got ourselves a Tango!" Tango: /incoherent shrieking and denials

Tango assigned homemaker by the narrative.

So just to be clear, we've got Tango "I will teach you redstone and cheer you on" (Mansplain), we've got BigB "There is no hole in the mesa" (Manipulate), and Skizz "I built the base" (Malewife). Good for them.

Skizz: "At my IRL job when I had to create blinking lights, I literally had someone go back to the breaker and flip it."

Tango, to Cleo: "That's all we are! Cringe 'R' Us!"

sdlkfj Tango hugging and comforting Torchy over how scary Etho's water bucket attack was. "If he comes back, I will take care of this."

BigB: "I have an anvil." Tango and Skizz losing their minds: "BEST TEAMMATE EVER!"

Heart Foundation: "We will join forces and gift our hearts to a randomly selected person. Everyone will like and protect us; we are creating our own plot armor." Etho, immediately after receiving his hearts: "I am a huge fan. Sign me up. Whatever I need to do to stay on. I will let you use the enchanting table. I would be dead if it were not for the Heart Foundation."

Gem and Scott riding up on their zombie and skeleton horses would be SO terrifying. Can't wait to see the fanart of that sdfklj

Tango killed it this session, he did not cut corners in babbling to Torchy.

Gem: "I think your task is to remove light sources from the server." Tango: "That would be very incorrect." Tango as he sprints away, muttering to Torchy: "I know?? They were standing right by us and they didn't even notice??"

Torchy has such boogeyman tendencies, geez. Is this Leven Thumps; did we confine the spirit of the boogeyman to a piece of wood??

Tango, raiding someone's base: "You want to? We could."

I enjoy the new rule about Yellows having one chance to call people out on their task. I think this is a good move to up the tension and also encourage people to do it because you only get one shot per episode. Don't wanna waste it!

slkdjf @ Tango chatting with Etho, Etho susses out his task, so Tango immediately runs to Grian to confirm the rules. Grian tells him no problem, Etho's green so he's in the clear. Tango runs off crowing in laughter.

Lizzie: "I've heard some weird things about you." Tango: "We are excellent today." Lizzie: "That's the weird stuff I've been hearing."

?? Is Tango's official canon that redstone exposure turned his eyes red? Neat.

lksdjf Skizz seething about Impulse.

Tango: "What did he do?" Skizz: "His task was to find somebody who's got greater than 25 hearts and find a way to - air quotes - "accidentally" get them to lose 5 hearts. So he made sure I lost 20."

Yeah, that tracks.

Freaking goodness, Tango put his entire heart and soul into this invisible friend task.

Bdubs' globe is looking amazing <3

?? Etho running up to Joel and saying "I love you?" What is the context; looking forward to figuring that out.

Etho: "I love you." Joel: "Okay, I know you're obsessed with me, I saw you made me your thumbnail of your first episode, but come on..."

Called out at the end!!! Devastating!!!

That is the end, but what a great session. So much death...

[krysalla]

smoke break.

bo sinclair x gn!reader

word count: 1k

read on ao3

warnings: smoking

You and Bo take a smoke break.

You spend the day tending to the yard. The hydrangea bush you planted beneath the porch is teeming with life. The mopheads burst with rich blues and purples. It had been near death when you found the parent, all of its branches cracked and dying, except for one. The branch almost escaped your notice, but you caught the shimmer of green, it was faint, almost yellow in color, but it was still alive. You came back with a pair of shears from the house and brought the small bundle back home with you. 

From that small cutting, it’s grown like a weed under your love and care. 

Your garden is your pride and joy. Before Ambrose, you knew nothing about gardening, could barely even keep the monstera you were gifted alive. Now the wild, unruly lawn is a paradise. One of the homes on Main Street had dozens of books on gardening. Between that and Bo’s collection of old sci-fi and western novels, it was an easy choice to make. You devoured the books, aching to fight the mind-numbing monotony of being trapped in the same cycle day in and day out. Cook, clean, laundry, rinse and repeat. You’re not some homemaker and you were never built to be one.

Bo is strolling up the hill that leads up to the house, hands shoved down the side pockets of his black coveralls. He whistles a happy little tune, a smile playing at his lips as he comes closer to you. He always wanders back up to you sometime in the afternoon, bored of tinkering with the shitty old Mustang he’s been working on since before you showed up here.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” You shade your eyes as you look up at him.

“What’re you up to?” Bo asks. He’s got a cigarette between his lips.

“Mm, just making sure everything’s okay.” You turn back to your plants. This particular bush of amsonia is worrying you–the leaves are starting to turn yellow and the flowers wilted. You hold out your hand to him blindly, index and middle finger spread in a V-shape. “Let me get one of those.”

He snorts, “These things’ll kill you.”

“You quit and I’ll stop bumming smokes off you.”

“Fat chance, sweetheart.”

“Then don’t tell me not to smoke.” You turn back toward him. His eyes are crinkled in fondness and his responding scoff is more playful than offended. 

He takes the cigarette he’d been puffing on, already half smoked, and slots it between your middle and index fingers and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose when he lights up a new one for himself. As always, nothing gets past Bo, he barks out a laugh and smirks. “That’s a compromise, baby.”

You scowl at him but begrudgingly accept the cigarette. You take a drag. The taste of mint an odd surprise. “Since when did you start smoking menthols?”

“Ran out day before. Didn’t feel like going into town to pick up a carton.” 

You hum. You can see past his vague statement. You know where he got these–the sugar mill is rife with suitcases and backpacks, most of them completely untouched by him and Vincent, it’s not the first time he’s gone through the sugar mill ripping through the dead’s belongings in search for cigarettes or beer or whatever other little vices he can get his hands on so he doesn’t have to drive the forty miles to town. He must be desperate to even be smoking these. Did he get lucky on his first suitcase or did he tear through them with a manic edge trying to find a pack of non-menthols before giving up. He doesn’t like the mint taste, says what’s the fun in smoking if you aren’t going to taste the tobacco and smoke. You think he sounds pretentious.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hadn’t thought that far ahead. Got any requests?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“You’re no help, you know that?” You push yourself up from your squatting position and slide up against his side. His arm slings his arm low on your hips, hand wandering down to grab at the fat of your ass and jiggle it in his grip. You laugh and swat at him. “Bo, knock it off.”

“Can’t help myself, sweet thing. You look good enough to eat.”

You have serious doubts about that. Your hair is plastered to your face and neck, you smell like a lawnmower and your very sensible overalls are smeared in dirt. But you won’t put up an argument, if a man as handsome as Bo tells you he thinks you’re attractive, who are you to say otherwise? 

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and angles for a kiss. You step out of his arms, avoiding his kiss completely.

“Not happening, I’m busy.”

Bo furrows his brow. “Busy with what? Thought you and I were taking a smoke break?”

“If you haven’t noticed,” you start, “I’ve already finished my cigarette.” You flick the butt on the ground and grind it with the toe of your shoe. “Get going, there’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch.”

“Startin’ to think you love those flowers more than me.” 

“My flowers don’t talk back.”

He growls and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest. Bo kisses your cheek, breath fanning out over your skin. “Watch that mouth of yours.”

Bo buries his face in your neck. You feel him take a deep breath through his nose, sniffing at you and trying to swallow up your scent. He’s so pathetic sometimes it hurts. Jealous of some silly flowers, as if they could replace him. If you acted the same way when he went down to work on his cars, he’s laugh in your face and mock you to no end. You bite your tongue, he’s much too sensitive–not that he would ever admit that–to tease like that and you’re not in the mood to get into a screaming match right now, not when he’s all sweet on you.

“Go on, Bo. Get yourself something to eat.”

“Only if you come with.”

You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a longer break. It would be better to water your plants when the sun starts to set and the air begins to cool off a few degrees. You nod and let him drag you into the house.