#baking blab

[theloveinc]

ummmmmm

[lazywriter-artist]

Me, baking, in a slight anxious spiral: what— what do u do if you use too much baking soda?

Baking website I am consulting: hahah! Dont worry silly! If you accidentally use 1 teaspoon as apposed to 1/2 a teaspoon all you gotta do is double the recipe and keep on as instructed! Easy as pie!!

Me: what/

Me, progressively more anxious; what if I use 3/4 cup instead of 3/4 teaspoon?

The baking website I am consulting, gaining consciousness to process this: you what—

[johnbottoms]

the pubs

[cosmicalily]

im an artist

[dragonboots10]

Somebody ate the brownies I made last night why does this always happen to me

[cxttlefishcxller]

For the OC Ask game:

☄️ Comet - Who is your most self destructive character? Why are they like that?

🌙 Crescent moon - Do any of your characters have to hide a part of themselves? Why?

🛰 Satellite - Do you have a character who is very dependent on another character? Is it healthy or unhealthy?

☄️ Comet - Who is your most self destructive character? Why are they like that?

Ohhh that'd definitely be Mia. Especially in her latest FC5 iteration, she's always put doing the "right" thing over her own safety, but it's a double-edged sword -- she's the type to throw herself headfirst into danger to save lives, but always with that little quiet hope that she won't make it out the other side. It's all tied to her self-worth: she thinks that every shortcoming that's led her this far will be wiped clean if she manages to do One Big Thing that will clear her name and turn her into someone worth being remembered. She'd 10000% rather be a martyr than a living failure.

🌙 Crescent moon - Do any of your characters have to hide a part of themselves? Why?

I think all of them do for various reasons, but Piper (my beloved) gets the spotlight this time around. XD After Tripps, she's starting to realize that there's something More to her, between prophetic dreams and small (and not so small!) supernatural happenings that tend to happen around her whenever she's distressed. At first she hides it because she's in denial that she's the one responsible at all, but when she gets to Vegas and discovers just why she's that way, she feels she has to keep it from the Boulder crew just so that they don't associate her with the magic that destroyed the world in the first place. She's terrified that she's going to be seen as someone that's Just As Bad as Flagg in the end.

🛰 Satellite - Do you have a character who is very dependent on another character? Is it healthy or unhealthy?

It's so hard not to put TedPipes here but I'll restrain myself jfkld;safd I actually really love writing codependent relationships in varying stages of healthiness because it's incredibly fun fjdlk;safd but cycling over to DBH, it'd have to be Sawyer on this one. They're most definitely a victim of circumstance, but they tend to attach themselves to whoever they deem is "safe", whether that happens to be true or not, especially when they're in distress and believe that they can't get out of a situation on their own. Their dependence on Markus is definitely not the healthiest at first. He's their bodyguard, their only consistent companion, and while they're trapped in their house, he's their only link to the world. (Plus he's the only one that 100% is NOT the one secretly terrorizing them into staying home in the first place fjdkls;) But even with the rocky start, it definitely builds into something much healthier and mutually beneficial as both they and Markus realize where their strength really lies.

[cosmicpines]

It is truly an honor to share a birthday with tumblr’s favorite holiday

[arcpyne]

fyi the good omens posting will not be stopping anytime soon as i am in inconsolable abject agony

[carrieway]

im heading towards starting college in the fall, filling out fafsa stuff n the what not. i am excited and actually have hope

[oappleofmyeye]

Made some snickerdoodle cookies and they turned out hella yummy

[avtrbee]

the prince [2]

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig, fanfic gojo, ooc gojo

✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!

i don’t do taglists.

part one ✢ masterlist

If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.

You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.

Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again. 

Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him. 

Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.

To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.

He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"

Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"

You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.

At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.

Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.

There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.

“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.

You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.

You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.

You continue to brush your hair.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."

You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.

Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable. 

The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”

Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”

You remain silent. 

“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.

That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.

You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.

“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.

His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.

"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.

"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”

You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?

That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.

He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.

“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”

You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.

"Are you sure?"

No. "Yes."

-

Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.

He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.

Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.

Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake. 

Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.

You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.

Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.

“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.

You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”

If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.

“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"

After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!

Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."

“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?

Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.

A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.

Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.

Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”

You glare at him. “How would I know?”

Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.

“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”

“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”

“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”

“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”

You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”

"He needs you."

"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”

You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.

“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”

You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.

“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”

You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.

-

thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>

here’s my masterlist

[theloveinc]

I need dabi to be my boyfriend so badly so he can bum around my apartment and stop my roommates from touching my shit

[mochinomnoms]

Question! What would it take for Floyd to rat his brother out to Yuu in regard to his twin's affections? A guaranteed date with Riddle? A hundred thaumarks? Jade begging for help?

Depends on who's asking. If it's Jade, Floyd might be inclined to help out if Jade begs. More so because it's a bit unsettling to see his brother beg, but also it's kinda funny. And also, maybe Jade should suffer cause why not? Money is nothing to him, but Jade offering to tell Floyd all of Riddle's study sessions with his potions group for him to 'mysteriously' pop up is a good motivator.

If it's Yuu asking Floyd to get his brother to confess to them, they can't do it themselves, he's laughing his ass off. They're both so stupid and wimps, why can't they just blab out their feelings and get it over with? Floyd's mood immediately sours if Yuu points out that he's doing the exact same with Riddle, but turns into curiosity as they mention that Riddle might be inclined to give him the time of day if Floyd is willing to help out in the Heartslabyul's kitchen for unbirthday parties. They haven't been the same since Trey left and he's good enough at cooking that baking should be a breeze.

He's much more willing to help Jade if Yuu is the one asking for help, their suggestion appeals to him more and he gets to feed his Goldfishie! And Riddle is weak to a really good tart. Weaker than he'd like to admit.

[anawrites3]

Jaydick, but Dick gives Jason a big mommy kink

It was a joke, at first.

The first time it happened they were in the Cave, having just came back from the patrol. The night was considered a huge success because for all the bullshit that managed to happen in the span of those few hours anyone barely got hurt at all.

Instead, everyone was fucking exhausted. Jason’s fingers were still slightly shaking as he fastened the last bandage around his arm, not to mention the way his eyes kept slipping shut. Boy, was he grateful he didn’t get hit in the head that day because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay up, even if he would have concussion.

That’s why he was planning on crashing in the Manor. Bruce was there too, obviously, but Jason was too tired to worry about that asshole right then. He was going to throw himself onto one of the beds in guests’ bedrooms and sleep for as long as his body needed him to.

He said a quick goodnight to Alfred who wished him a good rest with a smile. He didn’t say a word earlier when Jason announced he’d be staying the night and Jason in turn didn’t comment on the fact that a bedroom for him was already prepared. Jason was too tired to deal with that right then – and he’d have other excuses not to later – so he saluted to the rest of the clan, before starting towards the stairs.

That’s when it happened the first time.

“Hit the shower before you go to sleep, Jay.” Dick called after him. He was sitting in the medical area of the Cave, stripped down to just his underwear so Alfred could stitch up the cut on his calf. “You’ll feel less like shit when you wake up.”

“Master Dick-” Alfred chastised.

Jason rolled his eyes but found he wasn’t actually annoyed. His relationship with Dick was… better, now. Way better than what he expected they’d ever had, especially with everything Jason did before. But here they were. Jason wasn’t going to complain.

“Sure, mom!” He called back.

Dick just smiled.

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

The next time it happened, Jason didn’t think too much of it either.

He was in the middle of baking when Dick broke into one of his safehouses – the one that was currently serving Jason as home and the one that Dick absolutely shouldn’t know about – and started talking to him about a case he needed help with. Jason decided to actually play nice and help him out, even if he was kind of annoyed that Dick found him.

If anything else he could at least be certain that the big bird won’t blab the location of it to Bruce.

And… then there was that whole thing of him feeling… something about the fact Dick turned to Jason when he actually needed help. Not to Babs, not to Tim. Not to the rest of the birds and bats. Him.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna think too hard about that.

On the other hand though, Jason was in the middle of baking. And he always got bitchy when he got interrupted while doing something in the kitchen – and Dick freaking knew that. It never stopped him, of course, not even from trying to steal the dough or popping a bit of chocolate into his mouth whenever he thought Jason wasn’t watching.

Jason was less annoyed about that than he thought he’d be, too. Huh. Yeah, not touching that one right now either.

“Oh yeah, come to mama.” Dick said, reaching for one of the cookies as soon as Jason placed the tray on the counter in front of him.

Jason cocked an eyebrow at that.

“Mama?” He teased with a grin. “Wouldn’t you be more of a daddy or something?”

Dick moaned around the cookie in his mouth, “I can be whatever you want me to be, as long as I’ll get to eat more of these.”

-----------

And then-

“It’s not one of Bruce’s galas, Dick, I don’t have to look like I just walked out of the fashion magazine.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Dick ignored him as if he didn’t even open his mouth, making sure his sleeves were rolled up evenly.

They were getting ready for an uncover mission or – more precisely – Jason was. Dick was spending this one in the Cave as his eyes and Bruce was going to keep watch from the roof of neighboring building, ready to drop in if anything got too out of hand. Jason was the one going in this time, simply because their target haven’t seen him before.

Jason hated the fact that Bruce was going to be his support. Not like he could do much about it, with Dick still healing his injuries and Tim being away but still.

“It won’t hurt. You need to stand out.” Dick smiled. “Besides, I don’t get to see you in a suit very often. I need to take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Sure.” He drawled sarcastically but allowed Dick to fuss over him a few minutes longer.

It was true though, Jason couldn’t remember the last time he was actually wearing a suit. Not as nice as this, anyway, a grey three-piece that hugged his frame like a second skin would. It didn’t feel that alien – his gear was very fitting too so that part at least was familiar.

It’s the way Dick kept glancing at him that felt… new. Different from the way he was looking at Jason before but Jason couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Alright.” Dick hummed and Jason breathed out because that meant he was finally done dolling him up. “Now, be a good boy and don’t punch people’s teeth in before we get what we need, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Jason huffed. It’s not like he wasn’t good at undercover stuff. He didn’t like it and he definitely thought that Dick was way better at it, yeah, but it didn’t mean he would ever make such a rookie move. Even if he really wanted to, at times. “Not my first rodeo, remember? You really don’t have to mom me so much.”

“Mm.” Dick started adjusting his tie. “Then be a good boy for mommy and play nice.”

If anyone would ever ask about it, Jason would say he didn’t say anything back simply because he didn’t want to. Or that that was when Bruce walked in and told them it was time to move out.

When Jason will think back to it, he’ll remember the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times. The way his cheeks stung with the force of his blush. The way Dick ran his hands over the lapels of his jacket to smooth them out, slowly.

“Off you go then.” He murmured, looking at Jason from under his eyelashes and Jason still couldn’t know if Dick did that on purpose or not but he knew that it worked very well.

He lowered his chin in a sharp nod and Dick smiled, and then Jason was on the way to the club.

He couldn’t quite focus for the rest of the night. They got what they needed, no outside help from the Bat required, and Dick sent him a big happy smile when he came back to the Cave but Jason couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before.

He wondered if Dick was aware of what he was doing. He wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

-------

So. Maybe Jason had the slightest idea on how did it come to this-

“Mommy, please.” he breathed out, half a moan and half a whine.

Dick shushed him with a fond smile, peppering kisses across Jason’s jaw and cheeks. He was a solid familiar weight on Jason’s lap, pinning him firmly down to the mattress even when everything Jason wanted to do was to buck his hips, rub himself against Dick’s tanned stomach. Just enough to get some friction, just a little bit of pleasure Dick took away from him again because he was insistent to drag it out this time.

“Such a good boy, Jay.” Dick murmured against his skin, hand so close to where Jason needed it to be before sliding away again, higher and higher so it could settle on his stomach. “Just a little more, baby. Then you’ll get to fuck mommy the way you want to.”

“Please-” He gasped, fingers digging into Dick’s waist. How easy would it be to pull him closer, to slip between those cheeks… “Please, I need you-”

“Shh.” Dick gently cupped his jaw and lifted his head to press their lips together better. He kissed Jason slowly and filthy, slipping his tongue between his lips as soon as Jason parted them to gasp. He chased the sugary taste of cookies they had earlier, the one Jason barely finished making before Dick started pressing against him. “You have me, Jay. I’m right here.”

And it was the truth, wasn’t it? Jason had him, in a way no one else ever could. Dick Grayson, body and soul, all of that belonged to him now.

“Then do something about it already.” He demanded breathlessly as soon as Dick allowed him to speak again. “Prove it to me.”

Dick lowered his hand onto Jason’s thigh in a sharp slap that had Jason moaning again.

“That’s not very nice, baby. And you were doing so good.” Dick shook his head. “Only good boys get rewards, remember?”

“Sorry, mommy.” Jason whispered but he couldn’t stop his hips from moving anymore, trying to fuck into air.

“Mm, that’s better.” Calloused fingers slid down his stomach to finally, finally wrap around his cock. It was already so wet, both from saliva and precome that slid down the shaft from the head and Jason threw his head back with a loud whimper. How happy he was that those walls were sound-proof. “I forgive you, sweetheart. Now fuck me.”

And Jason didn’t need to be told twice.

[hallow-witxh]

So you want to make permanent runes?

Look no further; I gotchu. Runes are great tools. They can protect, defend, enhance, and so much more. They're genuinely one of my favorite things to use in my craft because they're easy, can be as simple or complicated as you want them to be, and are effective. However, as much as I like drawing or painting them onto things, I sometimes want something a little more... permanent. Something I could hang in front of my window or paste/glue onto the front of a book. That's why I make and use salt dough. It's simple, it's fun, it's family-friendly, and it dries really well. You can even color it with food coloring or add in herbs. You can do anything with it! So, without further blabbing, here's my recipe for salt dough:

WHAT YOU'LL NEED:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup table salt

3/4 cup to 1 cup water

Parchment paper

Baking sheet

An oven

Optional: rolling pin

Optional: thread/ribbon

Optional: dried herbs

Optional: food coloring

WHAT YOU'LL DO:

Preheat your oven to 225F (107-ishC).

Optional: Mix your dried herbs into your salt or flour.

Stir your flour and salt together.

Optional: To color your salt dough, stir your food coloring into water before you mix it with the dry stuff. Ensure it's very saturated because it will lighten considerably with the 3 cups of dry ingredients.

Add in 3/4 cup of water and mix. If the dough is too dry, slowly add in up to 1/4 cup more of water until it's kneadable.

Turn onto your parchment paper and knead until it's smooth, pliable, and not sticking to your fingers.

Optional: If you want to cut out shapes instead of molding them, flour your rolling pin and roll out the dough to a thickness of roughly 1/4 inch, then carve out your runes with a skewer or knife.

Roll out pieces of dough into 1/4-inch wide cylinders and form them into your rune/s.

Place them on a parchment paper-covered baking sheet and bake them for 1-4 hours or until completely dry. If you make thicker runes, they might take even longer.

Flip them over carefully every hour. If they're still pliable, try again every half hour.

Once they're dry, remove the pan from the oven and let them cool down until completely cool.

Once they're cool, they're done! You can now hang them up with string or ribbon, glue them onto things, paint (acrylic paint only, don't add water), etc. Just don't get them too wet!

As you can see, despite the long instructions, it's quite simple! It's also edible if you bake the flour first, so if a curious toddler tries to stick some into their mouth, it won't hurt them - but they might spit it out and make a mess.

Happy making, and blessed be!

Support your local witch on Ko-Fi!

[wackyharpy]

Solicitude

Eric (Divergent) x Fem! Reader

Summary: Eric takes care of his girlfriend after the hard day.

To find more stories — masterlist

A/N: English isn't my native language. I'm obsessed with this man, oh gods! Needed to write something like this. I'd be very happy for your comments and reblogs. Enjoy :)

Warnings ⚠️

NSFW 18+, fingering, p in v sex, she/her pronouns.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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She enters their shared apartment late in the evening locking the door. Muscles all over the body ache after hard trainings with the squad she's part of. Their commander always keeps them fit.

She finished her initiation taking the third place on the rankings board. Such success for a girl, who was one of the two among other male initiates, ended up with her becoming a part of the squad of the special purpose for secret missions.

Since the day their commander chose her, he has never regretted. It was a right decision. She is smart and witty — former Erudite — calm and placid — a perfect person not to blab plans and inside scoop.

Additionally, she's the youngest leader's girlfriend.

To start relationships with Eric wasn't an easy decision, but two years have already passed and they're still together. Unexpectedly, Eric has turned out to be a simple person to live with. Yes, the character he has, sometimes drives her crazy, although it's not the problem that can't be solved. He's dominant, intimidating and frightening, as he was the first time she met him during the initiation.

Nevertheless, she's discovered much more other facets of his personality. He's not just that cruel leader everybody is used to seeing him. Eric can cook — the first thing that surprised her a lot. He's a good listener and adviser. He motivates her to work and to become a better version of herself — she appreciates time they spend together in the gym where he shares his knowledge of how to obtain skillfulness in fighting, shooting, plotting plans and strategies.

They've learned how to be a leader and a subordinate, a mentor and a student outside the walls of their apartment. But here, they're only Eric and her. Just a boyfriend and his girlfriend.

She walks deeper in the room greeting Eric who is finishing dinner in the kitchen area. Dim lights of lanterns illuminate the space along with the moon whose rays permeate into through the panoramic windows — their apartment is situated on the upper floors of Dauntless compartment.

She rubs red weary eyes with her calloused palms, and sits at the table in the dining area. Exhales heavily. Eric places a plate with baked salmon and veggies in front of her. He constantly pays attention to her diet for her to have energy and be healthy.

"Thanks," she smiles warmly.

Being a leader, he's never provided her with advantages that may assist her easily gain a position in Dauntless. Some people may consider, she got her place in the squad because of Eric, though that's not true. Her efforts are the reason she's there. The only benefits she has is access to products of high-quality, good clothes, domicile and protection.

She eats every now and then looking at sharp features of Eric's face, at his perfect nose and slightly plump lips, at his cheekbones which she adores to contour with the finger. Her eyes go down viewing vividly black tattoos on the neck. She feels how something is tugging in the lower abdomen.

"Eat your meal. Stop gazing at me," she hears his voice's deep timbre. Abruptly, her cheeks turn pink and she chuckles. She sees how a perfect line of Eric's lips twitches in a smirk.

"Salmon is really good," she praises dinner.

"Mhm... received two fresh fish this morning."

***

They finish dinner and clean the table, then do the washing-up together. Eric hides two plates in the shelf above the faucet and turns to her immediately embracing her little petite figure with his strong arms.

"Tired?" The serene tone of his voice soothes her.

She cuddles closer to his chest smelling a pleasant male scent, and just nods. She feels a soft kiss on her forehead, and then Eric rises her from the ground taking to the bathroom.

After brushing their teeth — they've got used to do all this plain routine together, the couple gets ready to take the shower. Eric turns on water and begins to undress her. She yawns finally feeling how much her muscles are strained, in need of rest. Hooded eyes watch how Eric attentively takes off all of her clothes, then undresses himself.

He's not a type of guy to say "love you" and other sweet nothings about his feelings, but she doesn't need that. She's got used to his own tongue of showing love and affection.

Before stepping into the shower cabin, Eric checks the temperature of water, only then leads her inside along with him. She closes her eyes relaxing under warm streams realizing how much her body's got exhausted. Eric massages her shoulders gently once in a while placing kisses on them, her neck, or back. He helps to soothe knots in her strained muscles. She sighs contendetly leaning back on his powerful chest. She feels that Eric is smiling, feels his tender touching on her hips and stomach. She enjoys such moments when he takes a lead, dominates but gently, and looks after her. At times like this, she feels safe and peaceful.

After the shower, he dries her wrapping in the soft towel. Eric takes her face and kisses her affectionately and possessively.

"Fancy sex?" His look is demanding and piercing.

She bites her lower lip that doesn't escape Eric's attention.

She nods, also adding:

"But I'm too tired to be active in bed."

He is silent for several seconds, just rubs her cheeks with the thumbs. Then responds:

"I'll take care of you."

With these words, he leads her to their bed that stands opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows. She sinks in the black linen that smells of them. After coming into contact with the duvet, her head and eyelids suddenly feel heavy. Drowsiness washes over her, foggy curtain falls onto her eyes.

Eric lies beside her and she immediately snuggles her nose into his bicep closing her eyes, giving her whole body to him. He unwraps the towel revealing her steamed, after the shower, body.

His calloused hand creases her breasts, plays with her already hard nipples and then goes down reaching her labia. Eric rubs them leisurely watching her reactions. She's a bit sleepy, though still reacts to his movements gasping quietly. He finds her pulsating clit giving it proper attention until her pussy is wet enough to insert two fingers inside. Her moist insides welcome them and he starts gentle but steady movements back and forth. She breathes out, moans a little, and Eric looms his head over brushing his lips against hers.

"Like it?"

"Mhm," she cuddles closer, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Open your legs wider," he commands whispering.

She obediently does as he orders. His thrusts become faster. She feels hotness rushing to her core, something tugs, then her walls clench, and she releases sticky juices orgasming. She exhales heavily feeling pleasant relief.

Eric takes out his fingers spreading clammy liquid of her pussy all over her entrance and inner labia. He pumps his already hard dick for some time and settles himself comfortably between her lean legs. He rubs pinkish head of the cock against her drenched folds, then starts intruding with his member inside.

Eric bites his lower lip feeling how her enjoyable tightness wraps his member. They both gasp. He looms over her hiding her safely from the world conquering all her senses with only his presence.

"Eric..." sweet moan of hers.

His thrusts are slow and gentle — he's not planning to make rough sex tonight. He wants her to enjoy herself, relax, and ultimately sleep peacefully.