#bakers book

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hi! In your ugly baker + daughter story, what happened to the original ugly baker? I assume the new ugly baker is the daughter, but what about the one who went to see the king?

Right! So the stories were kept on a really strict one page and I couldn’t fit in a conclusion.

Now, I’ve told this story orally several times but this class was the first time I ever wrote it down. There’s been several different endings and I liked the idea of some ambiguity. In every ending the original baker was cursed about the same age as her daughter had been and goes back to being young and pretty.

So in some versions when I’ve told it, the original baker, who I’m gonna call the mother, returns home. She stays and switches places with her daughter, helping her now that she’s the one cursed. The daughter stays cursed and they live out their lives that way.

In another ending they hire a girl with dyslexia who tries to use the book but she can’t follow directions, so each recipe gets ruined in some way and the curse slowly sheds because the baked goods aren’t perfect. All three women live happily ever after.

In one version the mother transforms back into her young beautiful self at the palace. The Prince returns home, sees the beautiful woman so like the one he was just romping with and proposes. The mother accepts and never returns home, leaving her daughter with a grandchild and a curse to repeat the cycle.

It’s really up to you to decide.

[why-the-heck-not]

everything is suddenly very important when you're procrastinating for your life

[alextimestar]

And again the moment from 16 chapter of “the house in the cerulean sea”

I so much love Arthur Parnassus 🥺❤️

[fanvoidkeith]

sometimes family is a regular man, his surprisingly smart (and capricious) cat, his phoenix husband, the antichrist, an amorphous slime boy, a nature sprite, a gnome, a wyvern, a shapeshifter, a yeti, a much older and more powerful nature sprite, and her girlfriend the mayor

[you-belong-among-wildflowers]

“Someday…” ‘Someday, what? They’ll sing your praises? They’ll write your story? You don’t have a story, little one. You’re simply a footnote in mine.”

Succession in the Memoir and Non-Fiction Section

Inspired by @hannahpahl

[newtkive]

sweet tooth | luca drabble

just thinking about luca w a partner who has a crazy sweet tooth (like i do) and you never asking for a sweet treat but mentioning it nonchalantly but still not expecting luca to make you something.

first of all, your nickname would probably be sweet tooth or smth similar, let’s be so real. it would start by luca calling you that affectionately, but then it catches on w friends and family and you’re just dubbed sweet tooth.

in general, if you saw some type of dessert on a commercial or a tiktok that had you going ‘oohhh’ luca would scrunch his brows and almost seem jealous. “they used meringue, they should’ve used icing sugar.” he’d scoff judgingly and just see it as a challenge. after he would deem it doable, he’d store the information in his brain and literally make it better at work the next day.

just say the word and he will make it. telling your friends on the phone that macaroons sound good? cool, he wants to practice his piping technique with the biscuits anyways.

a japanese fruit sando? awesome he can make the sweet bread so fast, and the cream is no big deal. in fact he can just whip it up for lunch.

want a hersheys bar? first, that chocolate is trash don’t ever mention it to a european, especially your european chef boyfriend. second, he’ll make you the best stack of milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and cookies n’ cream bar you’ve ever had (the cookies n cream one is so good, and you’d always say that and it would piss him off). anything to get hershey’s out of your brain.

you see those viral crunchy chocolate and pistachio filled croissants in new york on your phone and groan abt them? he can research the recipe and workshop it for a day or two in the restaurant kitchen, find a cute take out box to present it to you with to give you that full experience you’d get from the real bakery—you just gotta wait. even if it’s a couple days later, it’ll be waiting for you on the table, or pulled out from behind luca’s back as he walks through the door.

to be more specific, maybe at midnight when he doesn’t have work the next day, you guys are up watching a movie or just having pillow talk. saying smth nonchalant abt your cravings like “cookies sound so good right now luca.. don’t they?” your cheek is smushed against his bicep (which you’d much rather eat) so your voice is all cute and mumbled making his heart race.

“mhm.” he’d say. he’s got a lazy smile n a deep chuckle, voice laden w sleep since you’re the night owl and he’s just staying up to spend time with you. “you wan’ me to make some right now? that what you’re saying?” he’s clearly amused, knowing that you don’t expect him to but teasing you nonetheless.

“nono, it’s too late. you’re not allowed to leave anyways.” you would mumble again, arms tightening around his own in a hug. humming happily, a kiss from the chef would land on your head and you kinda forget about the dessert you want but luca doesn’t because he’s a chef and his literal profession is making desserts so why wouldn’t he?? when you want something he can easily make?? like his love language is giving, especially if it’s baking something for someone he loves.

the next day you’d still be asleep and wake up to the smell of cookies. savory was your forte in the morning most times but who could say no to starting their day with a yummy sweet when it’s presented to them, right?

it would take you a second to realize that 1. luca wasn’t wrapped around you like usual, etching a frown into your face, and 2. luca had to be the one making cookies. and he made the best cookies. you’d waste no time in grinning and hopping up to drag yourself to the kitchen. even more of the smell would welcome you, transporting you into some kind of dreamland—and if you really were dreaming you’d be so pissed bc the cookies being pulled out of the oven by your blond messy haired boyfriend look so fucking good right now (aside from the aforementioned boyfriend who is just as, if not more scrumptious than the cookies with only his flannel pants on).

arms would wrap around his waist from behind and luca would laugh muttering “hot pan” but you don’t give a fuck because you want him and those cookies now. if anything your arms tighten and you rub at his stomach sweetly from behind, a sign of affection.

“you made me cookies!” the grin would be so evident in your voice and so infectious that luca beams as he transfers the said cookies onto a pretty dish.

“and who said they were for you?” the tease is obvious and earns an eye roll. you don’t fall for it and he doesn’t expect you to, but you gently nip at his shoulder nonetheless. a dramatic ‘ow!’ comes from the tall man, laced with laughter. you snicker evilly, standing on tip toes to rest your chin on the same shoulder (no matter your height you still gotta do tiptoes bc that man is tall).

soon enough he’d plate the perfect chocolate chip cookies with a dash of sea salt that you spotted, and turn around. it would be your turn to be wrapped in a hug by strong arms, even lifted up a little just to hear your laugh. luca also likes to hear how surprised you get that he can lift you, even though to him you’re weightless.

it wouldn’t be long until you’re begging for a cookie even if he sets you on the counter, stern look as he assures you they’re still cooling off. like hellooo?? who cares?? but he distracts you with soft kisses on your cheeks, leading down to your lips until he pulls away and leaves you wanting more. the mumble from him that, “the cookies are probably cool enough now” has you forgetting your desire for him and replacing it with the golden saucers just waiting for you to demolish them.

hands on his shoulder, you’d firmly push him to the side and hop off the counter. the roll of luca’s eyes would be affectionate and endeared, since you were this excited for his cooking. you were his best customer after all.

your feet would have a mind of their own, floating towards the cookies like a cartoon man levitating towards a pie, lured by the aroma. you start ravaging like a hungry creature. one turns into three as you face your boyfriend, moaning with closed eyes at almost every bite inbetween telling him about what you two did in your dream (he baked you brownies laced with a golden syrup in your dream so you accredit your subconscious to manifesting this).

he would just stand there with a grin, hands on the edge of the sink behind him while leaning on it. usually dreams would be so boring to talk about, but luca swore he could stand there for an eternity just watching you eat his creations and talk about any dream you wanted to share with him.

of course, those cookies would be gone in two days. and in place would be brownies drizzled in a golden syrup that luca took home from work. the surprise would earn him a watery eyed smile, and he’d just shrug and say he had extra time to kill on the evening shift.

[yourfavebooklrsfavebooklr]

8 amazing trans books for trans day of visibility!

[charlie-old-one]

"I'm sorry," Linus whispered into Arthur's throat, never wanting this moment to end

Arthur held him tighter. "You silly, delightful man. There is nothing to be sorry for. You fought for us. I could never be angry with you for that.

How I cherish you."

Linus felt his heart settle in his chest.

I love them so much, their dynamics and chemistry are everything ⭐️

[house-in-the-cerulean-sea]

WE'RE FUCKING BACK BABY!

[tenthrees]

Linus Baker disliked himself and had a depressing view of life but Arthur and the children still fell in love with him and I absolutely love that bc it crushes the idea that you have to first love yourself or be healed in some way before other people can love you.

[julienbakerstreet]

Squeak or Treat! 🐀🐁

happy halloween! you get a sticker! 🐀

[that-butch-archivist]

"I am a femme. I pined for women for more than a decade following that visit to New Orleans, agonizing for months at a time until finally I would write in my journal, "I think I'm a L-E-S...," only to begin the cycle again, and again. Some of my fears were the usual what-does-it-mean-to-be-a-lesbian kind, generated by a homophobic society. I also had another kind of fear, which was that being a lesbian meant giving up my flamboyance and my love of changing myself through makeup and costume. I was afraid that I would have to wear army surplus pants for the rest of my life. And I knew fucking was important to me. If tribadism was controversial (as it was in the seventies), would I ever have wild, passionate sex again? That was quite a conflict. All my fantasies were about women, but it seemed as though being with women meant leaving my passions behind. It was made clear to me by the lesbian community that my conventionally pretty features and hourglass figure were not considered lesbian enough (being pretty wasn't politically correct). And society told me I was too pretty to be a lesbian. So was I judged, based on the same societal norms, by both groups. Being femme isn't about what I'm wearing, although it can be. I don't understand why being a lesbian who wears a three-piece suit is considered a social radical, while a lesbian who wears a dress, her sexuality up-front yet unavailable to the heterosexual norm, is not. Why is that only men get to be flamboyant in order to be considered socially radical? From my perspective that is letting men have all the fun again."

- An excerpt from "Femme: Very Queer Indeed," an essay written by Victoria Baker and found in The Femme Mystique. (Emphasis in bold my own.)

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Roger Baker - Binding The Devil - Hawthorn - 1975

[eekub988]

gatsby but inspired by old cartoons

[thebestcomicbookpanels]

Possible Dazzler costumes from the Mutant Report in Marvel Age.

Bonus...an X-Men cartoon by Kyle Baker

[comic-covers]

(1946)