#chicken Cesar salad

[willowser]

ok so like katsuki with a motorcycle would be so hot bc i feel like he would loveeee to go fast yk the adrenaline and everything anyways i am BEGGING for some hcs

it would be hot, i agree !!! he would look.....so woof......on one 😵‍💫 strangely enough, though, i don't typically imagine him with one !! maybe when he's younger for a little bit because he thinks he's Real Cool but idk !! i almost feel like....they're too flashy for him ??? also idk how practical they would be for a young pro hero 🤔🤔🤔 idk !!

but you're so right, the speed would be very attractive to him ajfhejanqn OOOOHH AND WITH THE HELMET ON ????? AND THEN HE TAKES IT OFF AND WOOF !!!! he's so handsome ??? 😵‍💫😵‍💫 if i saw him pull beside me in a parking lot i think i would die he'd be the hottest man i've ever seen ✨️✨️✨️✨️

[brunetterightsactivist]

You know what’s actually crazy is that a salad costs more than a sandwich. Literally more money for them to give me the same thing minus the bread

[nirhvahnah]

todays lunch 😋

[area51-escapee]

Trying to find ideas for cold lunches I can take to work and I’m like well, I like salads, let me look for salad ideas.

Only to realize I don’t like salads. I like Salad. Singular. Anything outside of that one salad is too crazy now.

[eemolu]

chicken cesar salad. …… safe food my beloved

[intheupside]

he eat like what? chicken parmesan? cesar salad? same food all time. this guy’s crazy!… when you gotta lovingly mock your superstitious captain sidney crosby

[theheathenousfish]

professor Neil doing things for his husband because I said so (also Neil getting flustered)

it’s November 4, Andrew’s birthday. Aaron’s to Neil thinks. However he’s not married to Aaron therefore he doesn’t care. Anyway, it’s currently 5am and Neil is making Andrew breakfast. Chocolate French toast with mint chocolate ice cream and turmeric honey tea (because coffee early in the morning hurts his tummy). Neil had just finished his culinary masterpiece when Andrew walks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around Neil’s waist. “Hello sweetheart , happy birthday.” Neil whispers. Andrew absolutely does not melt when he gets called sweetheart. He doesn’t. “Mmph” is Andrew’s response. “How does it feel to be 30?” Neil asks “fucking awful. Statistically I’ve walked past 13 murderers so far” “poor baby” “not your baby” “ no, I’m yours” Neil grins “shut up junkie” andrew grabs the sides of Neil’s head and tilts it back and kisses the top of it and goes to eat his birthday breakfast.

Andrew is making his class watch Voltron because it’s his birthday and he’s the professor. After a couple of episodes he pauses it and asks for opinions and observations about the characters. Once a couple of students have spoken he resumes the show. Andrew is trying his hardest not to smile. He fuckin loves voltron.

around 1pm Neil decided to go to Andrew’s favourite cafe and get him some lunch. He choses a strawberry whip cream croissant, chicken Cesar salad, and a butterscotch apple latte. Neil loves his husband, but he can’t let Andrew live on sugar; hence the chicken Cesar salad.

The curtain of Andrew’s classroom door wasn’t closed so Neil could see Andrew’s projector screen from where he was standing. “Oh my god. He’s making them watch Voltron” Neil laughs

Neil opens the door just as an episode is ending “ hey, drew. I brought you lunch.” “What is it?” Andrew questions. Neil grins “take a look. I think you’ll like it” “ just because Its my birthday doesn’t mean you have to feed me” Andrew states. Neil looks aghast at that “you don’t let me help with cooking, when else can I feed you” Neil complains. “ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY?!” A student screeches. “Yes. Why do you think we’re watching Voltron?” Andrew replies.

Andrew turns to Neil and raises his eyebrow looking over his glasses “anything else junkie?”

Andrew has “hot professor” glasses according to Neil. They are black, roundish square half frames with silver accents. Neil thinks they are dead sexy

“No. Nope. Nothing else. Everything is fine. I have to go.” Neil stumbles over his words. “Hmm. Are you sure?” Andrew drawls, a slight smirk on his face. “ yup. I’m good. I’ll leave now.”

Neil pulls out his phone and opens Alison’s contact “ally,I need help. Andrew is trying to kill me.” “Good god Neil. What the hell did he do?” Alison sounds like she’s trying not to laugh “he did the glasses thing! And he flirted as he did it!” Neil whines. “Oh buddy, You’re so fucked. Have fun getting dicked down tonight!” Then she hangs up. Neil looks at his phone “well shit.”

at home, Neil is reading in bed even though it’s only 6ish. Andrew walks into the bedroom an hour later and pins Neil with a very familiar look.

2.5 hours later Andrew says “thank you for today.” “Of course, love”

they fall asleep and ignore the texts from Aaron

[callsignhood]

Can König cook?

I think he can definitely cook, but not as a good as a chef, of course. Maybe bacon omelette, grilled cheese, Cesar salad with chicken breast, some soup and maybe even pasta. He’d consume a hell ton of calories daily for his size, he must know how to feed himself correctly! 🩵

[stvolanis]

Pretty Stars

PT .1

PT .2???

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x Rival! Rockstar! OC

WARNINGS: EATING DISORDERS, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, EXPLOITATION, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, inaccurate time lines probably, this is more depressing than my other stories, age gap (OC is 19 and Elvis is 23), foul language, Elvis is an asshole but so is OC, typical rivalry things, enemies to lovers

NSFW WARNINGS: NONE, it will all be in part 2 if this does well :)

Don’t be shy, request something!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Rosalee Marziel worked her ass off to get where she stood today, and she’d die before she let some stupid boy ruin it for her.

She’d lived in cities since she was a toddler, and growing up in such a hostile place causes you to realize that no one will help you but you. It took her losing her mother, her extended family, and a few boyfriends and flings to realize this. Once she had nothing, and was at rock bottom, of course she’d sign her life away. What more did she have to lose when everything was already lost?

The 1st amendment no longer felt like it applied to Rosalee. She was stripped bare of her former self, and instead embodied a new persona, Rose Marz. Rose Marz was confident, selfless, bold, and had no problems making a statement. She was a music, movie, and fashion icon all the way past France.

Truth was, she’d been groomed since she’d signed her life away when she was only 15. Groomed by the men around her who only wanted the greatest pleasures of life, and naive Rosalee Marziel was their ticket to that. ‘Wear less, and more of this’ they’d tell her as they held up skimpy playboy sets. She was 16. ‘More makeup, she’s aging.” They’d tell her makeup artists. She was 17. By the time she had reached 18, she’d corrected every little flaw they had pointed out. She spent hours covering acne scars, moles, and stretch marks.

She’d powder and cake herself in flawless natural makeup, which wasn’t so natural once you’d watch her apply a ton of it. She formed an eating disorder and lived off of eating Cesar salads with extra grilled chicken, and even then, she’d sometimes feel herself become sick. The smell, taste and feel of food made her vomit in her mouth. So, when she went to ball events, charity event, etc.; she’d stick to a glass of water and give tight lipped smiles when offered a plate of appetizers.

You’d think oranges were her favorite fruit, but she’d only eat them when she’d gain a pound or 2. Her stomach pains sometimes became unbearable, but beauty is pain, or at least that’s what her producers would tell her with money on their tongues. Sometimes she swore instead of feeling spit when they’d speak to her, she felt hard and cold coins. God forbid they found out she’d eaten that day, the comments would strike up.

The ones that formed her eating disorder in the first place. The ones that make her cry herself to sleep and curl into a ball. The ones that made her weep for her dead, junkie of a mother. The ones that made her throw up her insides till her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. And the ones that made her wanna not wake up the next day.

Roses first gig was a lousy bar her old manager booked for an hour. It’s one she’ll never forget, I mean, it’s what sparked her love for preforming in every sense of the word. On stage, she didn’t have to be the broken shell of a little girl, especially not when she heard people cheering her name. The rush of adrenaline shot into her veins was addicting and was a high she’d strive to chase any moment she could. In those first moments, she felt like her body was on fire, and the words slipping from her mouth held every ounce of raw emotion she would never normally say.

She had something other rising female preforms didn’t have, and that was a genuine love for music. They didn’t have the same spark in their eyes like she did. They weren’t passionate about the lyrics they wrote or sang. The only reason they were famous was because of their sex appeal.

Climbing the ranks in a male dominated industry wasn’t an easy task by any means, but Rose managed to do it. She sunk her perfectly manicured claws into their backs to rise herself to get to where she was today. Past Carl Perkins, past Johnny Cash, even past Jerry Lee Lewis. She was at the top of her game.

Showered in every luxury she could imagine. Queen worthy jewelry, the latest and hottest cars, 3 mansions and 10+ houses stationed all around America. Her favorite house was stationed all the way in Milan, Italy. She had an endless list of ‘friends’ and men throwing themselves at her feet for even a glance, but she wasn’t naive anymore. She could see right through them with the x-ray vision she swore to herself she had.

Hell, even the Kennedys loved her.

But none of it was ever enough. None of it made the throbbing pains in her head, chest, and stomach stop. It didn’t stop her from taking nearly lethal amounts of pills on her roughest days in hopes that just maybe she’ll find the courage to take a little more.

Rose was never satisfied with the life she had. And when they started throwing her in movies alongside people she didn’t care to know, she nearly lost herself. Rose? An actor? That couldn’t be right. She was a singer. But it’s what her fans wanted, which means it’s what her producers would make her do.

She was sure her fans adored her, and she was grateful that they did, but a small part of her detested them. A small part of her had wished she’d never became famous. If she knew this would be her at only 19 years old, she would’ve ran away from that man with a few papers and a pen all the way to across the globe. But she could never bring herself to hate the people who got her to where she is today.

They are the only reason she’s able to live the way she does, after all. Those little girls who look up to her, dreaming of being in her shoes and, wishing to be like her when they get older and cheering her on from crowds will always be the reason she continues to preform. But how badly she wanted to cradle them and tell them ‘careful what you wish for.’ Because she wishes someone had told her.

Though she was at the top of her game, there was still one large obstacle in the form of a southern man.

Elvis Presley.

No matter how many movies she starred in, or how many songs she made—no matter how many awards she won and was nominated for, he always somehow managed to beat her. Not to mention the constant comparison she was always faced with when I came to him. ‘Elvis does this better’ her manager would start. ‘So you need to do this’. He’d say.

I learned how to dance, and Elvis was the star of a dance musical called ‘Copacabana’ the next day. I mentioned i knew how to draw, and all the sudden Elvis’ art was plastered in museums. The list goes on and on of him trying to out-do her an coming out successful. Naturally, Rose wouldn’t care, but at the end of the day it was her having to hear her entire management team on her ass. One time her producer even phoned in about it.

It was a constant battle between the two and it seemed like an endless cat and mouse game. Not to mention Elvis throwing loads of shade at her when he was in the press a few weeks prior. Since then, anytime she’s been asked about their ongoing rivalry in the press, she’s said the upmost worst things about him. If it was any other A list celebrity, her manager would have her head, but it was the 2 most hottest people in America going head to head like bulls. Obviously it would make both parties become a more popular subject, and the more publicity, the better.

And now they want Elvis and Rose to preform together for a Valentines special? Hah, they must be crazy to think they wouldn’t claw each others throats out. Rose had never dared to protest against anything her producers and managers had planned for her—the last time she did she was beaten. But this—this is the one thing she wouldn’t go down without a fight for. After a good year and give or take a few months of going against each other, why would they now want them to make amends? The damage had already been done.

Rose was fortunate enough of never having to actually meet the man talking the upmost shit about her in person, till now.

As she sat in her dressing room, she could swear her makeup was sweating itself off, resulting in her panicking. Her eye makeup was dark and bold, and her lips were a faded cherry red. The dark mole above the corner of her lip just barely peeking through her pounds of foundation. Her hair was was naturally a brunette, but her main manager thought blonde would be a better look on her. So now she sat with her blonde hair teased and overly large, adorned in pink and red flowers to match the Valentines theme.

Rose felt her confidence begin to dwell as she thought of every possible terrible outcome this show could bring. Her brows furrowing as she applied setting powder aggressively while thinking of beating that stupid man, Elvis Presley, to a pulp if he tainted her imagine in any way, shape, or form.

A knock on her dressing room door brought her out of her thoughts. “Miss Rose, it’s almost time.” An annoying feminine voice said from behind the door. Rose huffed as she got up. “Alright, give me a moment.” She yelled back as she began to dress herself.

They’d chosen a white, tight fitted turtle neck long sleeved shirt for her to wear, paired with a short, light pink dress to go over it and a large white belt fit around her waist to seem more slim. The knee high white leather boots and different shades of pink and red heart earrings pulled the whole look together as she stared at herself in the long mirror in front of her.

She smoothed her hands down her dress as she took in a long breath of air before she finally found the courage to leave her dressing room.

When she stepped out, the narrow backstage hallways parted like the Red Sea at her entrance. Her manager, a short old man with the personality of a donkeys ass, stumbled his way over to her.

“Ah, Rose! There you are, come.” He said urgently as he tightly gripped her upper arm. Rose didn’t get a chance to respond, and instead winced as she was dragged along with him to wherever he was taking her. Their walk wasn’t long as they stopped at a tall man with his back turned to them.

“Mr. Presley.” Her manager coughed out, making his prescene known. Rose fought an eye roll. The man turned around and Rose swore her jaw could’ve dropped right then and there. The pictures and interviews did him no justice, as he was even more good looking in person, much to Roses dismay. Nonetheless, this god of a man was still her biggest rival and the only person stopped her from being deemed ‘queen of rock n roll’ on every cover of The Rolling Stone Magazine

Screw him and his charming smile. She hated his stupidly perfect hair—and she wanted to pull the little strand hanging out on the front out of his head. She wanted to punch him in his perfectly chiseled jaw, and same with his nose. She didn’t like the fact that he easily towered over her, even in heels, so she thought about kicking him in the back of his knees to bring him to the ground where she thought he belonged— below her.

Elvis on the other hand felt his breath get caught in his throat and her nearly dropped the cup of water held in his hand. There she stood, in all her terrorizing glory, was Rose Marz. But Elvis’ eyes couldn’t help but linger on the chubby fingers tightly wrapped around her arm, almost in a painful manner.

How could this little thing be his biggest competition? She was so small. So pretty. So- “fuck you.” So vulgar. That was the first thing she’d ever said to him, and he’d remember it for the rest of his life. He would’ve been offended if it wasn’t for the fact that she was so damn cute with her furrowed brows and pouty red lips.

Her managers face went pale as a ghost. “Aha!! She meant hello!” He nervously laughed as he glared at Rose through the corner of his eye. The small girl let out a huff. “Elvis.” She acknowledged, sizing him up with a quirked brow. He felt a chuckle rumble deep in his chest.

Rose turned her head downward to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks at his intense gaze, even as he talked to her manager. “That’s quite alright, Mr.Smith. How ya doin, Rose?” He said in that southern draw that made all the girls’ head spin and panties drop. Now Rose understood why, but she would never admit it aloud.

“Terrible since I seen you.” She said with an eye roll. Elvis pursed his lips. “I’m real sorry ‘bout what I said in the press about ya.” He replied with a nervous chuckle. Roses head shot up at that. “Liar!” She called out with a pointer finger.

“Jesus, Rose! Can’t you act civilized for one damn moment?!” Her manager screamed in her face. Rose went beat red in embarrassment, her hands clenched into fists. The old fat man looked at her pointedly. “Excuse my behavior, Mr.Presley.” She said through clenched teeth and false smile.

Elvis pondered for a moment as he took in the situation before him, before coming to a conclusion. “Lemme take ya to dinner to make up for it, Rose.” He said. Something boyish was swirling in his eyes and a certain hope was in his small smile he sent her way. Rose opened her mouth to reject his offer, but it seemed her manager had other plans. “Yes, of course she’ll go!” He answered for her.

Elvis merely glanced down at the obnoxious fat man. “I’d like for her to answer.” He stated with a glare. Rose paused. No one had ever stood up for her like that. No one batted an eye when people would yell at her, grab her, or even beat her to a pulp. She didn’t know what to think—or even how to act.

Her mouth was hung agape as he awaited her answer. “I—uh, sure.” She responded—seemingly in a daze as she gazed up at the taller man. His eyes danced all across her face before stopping at the mole she tried so desperately to hide. “Tomorrow night.” He said before his eyes snapped up to meet hers again.

Rose, absent minded, merely nodded her head.

“You’re on in 5!” Someone shouted over the loud backstage ruckus. That caught Roses attention as she quickly smoothed herself out and took in a deep breath. Elvis reached his hand out towards her. “Shall we?” He asked with a smirk.

Rose rolled her eyes as she slapped his hand away. “Let’s just get this over with.” She replied as she turned quickly away from him.

But Elvis didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

this wasn’t proofread

[cloveroctobers]

Hello! I was thinking Carmen and black!reader who’s heavily pregnant and is like days away from giving birth. When her water breaks she has a home birth with her doula (who’s her best friend) and Carmy coaching her through the painful experience: kissing her forehead as she cries in pain.

ꨄ HOW CARMY IS DURING LABOR! ꨄ

A/N: decided to do these in my form of HCs since i’m kinda in a low mood and hopeful that Carmy being attentive to reader will lift it up some. Hope you don’t mind. Jeremy’s a dad so why not try to picture carmy as a dad too! Also know the bare minimum when it comes to labor so don’t slander me too much nurses/doctors/people in the medical field (not you Claire!) who may read this 😬

WARNINGS: mentions of the fear of parenthood & bodily fluids.

˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚

when carmy found out Sasha was pregnant, he definitely almost fell to his knees—almost like it didn’t take two to tango but anxiety is not a nice person.

He wanted to panic but he also knew he didn’t want Sasha to take his response the wrong way.

Sasha was on the side of wanting a family some day and she wasn’t “getting any younger,” but it definitely became as a surprise since Sasha and Carmy weren’t purposely trying to get pregnant.

Some may argue against that but mind your business!

There was so much going on but sometimes timing had a mind of its own andddd…shit happens!

Sasha and Carmy were having a baby and Sasha felt like she should have seen the signs especially having a best friend that’s a doula

and a mother on FaceTime questioning when her period was coming around.

Basically she’s been bloated as hell and her mother, always the vocal woman, was going to say something and did!

Was Sasha here for the slight body shaming…no? But her mother’s questions did bring up some thoughts, so she ended up purchasing a test or two after work.

It took some time for her to break the news to carmy, (about a week it took but he didn’t miss the off energy Sasha was putting out—she was snappy and carmy wasn’t in the mood to argue, not with her) expecting the conversation to be awkward and full of uncertainty thanks to childhood trauma that bled into his adulthood you know?

When he gained sound back into his ear and his vision back, he stuttered a bit as he asked Sasha to repeat what she just said to him while he’s messing around with some jeans in the kitchen.

“Uh…what-what did you say? Because if I heard you right, that’s not a funny joke to throw on me.”

“Well I’m not joking, bear. We’re having a baby.” Sasha gently said, getting off the couch with the hidden pregnancy test behind one of the pillows.

Carmy felt like his vision was leaving again as he held the two tests with shaky hands, blinking several times, he exhaled before pulling Sasha into his arms. “Shit, we’re gonna be somebody’s parents.”

“Correction: Fine ass parents. How’re you feeling?”

“Scared as hell, honestly.” “Me too.”

Sasha hugged him tighter.

The first half of the trimester? Complete trash! that Sasha had to resort to working from home after using some sick days being so ill she could barely keep her body upright

She also didn’t admit to the pregnancy to everyone else (even her own family) until it was deemed safe in the second trimester.

Looking back, it all seemed so simple compared to now.

Sasha was ready to pop yet she still had some energy left, “Lookin' for the hoochie daddies…”

“Where they at?” Her best friend and doula, Chantelle echoed in the living room while Sasha was dancing in the kitchen and gobbling down a grilled chicken Cesar salad.

Her biggest craving in the final stages of her pregnancy.

One squat too low and Sasha felt a stabbing cramp that had her gripping the counter, sucking air between her teeth.

“Hey, how’re we feeling?”

“Yup, baby boy just isn’t feeling this song, he’s just like his damn daddy already.” Sasha tried to laugh off as she continued hunched over the counter.

Chantelle wasn’t buying that as she pushed her notebooks and paper work to the side then made her way over to Sasha.

Her hands immediately went to Sasha’s stomach, something Sasha had to get used to—with Chantelle being so touchy feely. Guess it was a good thing that physical touch was her love language or whatever allowing her to apply just that in her profession but Chantelle hardly asked for permission lately.

She took it upon herself to figure out what maybe going on physically since Sasha wasn’t as vocal like everyone else in her family tended to be.

Sasha guessed she should have been thankful for Chantelle’s eager ways since she was the one who pushed Sasha to get tested for fibroids.

She was known for having painful periods going through her teenage years just to learn she had cysts at sixteen that had to be surgically removed

then to end up with hereditary fibroids right around the time she found out she was pregnant!

Wasn’t off to a great start, honestly.

Thankfully her pregnancy’s been pretty healthy given the circumstances and Chantelle attended the routine appointments with both Sasha and Carmy.

That gave them both a peace of mind.

Chantelle was phenomenal at what she does.

Sasha was days away from her due date but Chantelle could sense labor was on its way soon. It’s what she’s trained for and it was written in her eyes as she felt around Sasha’s swollen belly.

“Let’s sit you down, watch a show.” Chantelle offered, reaching to disconnect her phone from Bluetooth and ready to lead Sasha over to the couch so she could monitor these cramps.

Sasha was uncomfortable enough not to argue and slowly waddled to the couch, letting out a sigh as she slouched on the couch a bit, hoping to stretch her back a bit but winced after awhile of trying to sit up straight.

Chantelle was secretly sending texts to Carmy, giving him a heads up after more signs of cramps (which would soon be contractions) were making their way around and getting stronger each time.

The bear had its grand opening last year in late spring but it didn’t seem like business was going to slow down anytime soon…however carmy had to learn balance between the bear and having a family.

Which also caused friction from time to time between Sasha and Carmy but he tried harder to be better for the baby and the sake of their relationship

The last text Chantelle sent Carmy, he felt his heart race and knew now was the time. He basically cracked the screen of his phone at the news and had to gather himself, gaining the attention of his team.

Everyone was understanding and encouraging, even Richie!

but it was sugar who got his feet out the door.

“You’ll be alright, I know it. Slow and steady, eyes on the right now and not the what if’s, bear. We’ll be right here and I love you. Now go make me an aunt.” Sugar was all delicate smiles as she squeezed her baby brother’s shoulders.

She just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl a week before Christmas and Carmy was still trying to get his head wrapped around that.

He never thought he would be having a baby around the same time as his sister!

He never thought he would have a solid family. Yet Sasha changed everything for him and so would this baby.

Sasha’s a moaning mess, down on her knees in a praying motion which she used to joke about how her own father often did this when he got bad migraines.

Guess she was praying herself now to get through this!

She didn’t care to have this filmed like her mother originally wanted—this was a sacred moment and also horrifying due to a flashback of a birthing video she saw in health class years ago and watched a few story times on YouTube just to remind herself why birth scared tf out of her!

She wouldn’t have wanted anyone in the delivery room with her if she had a hospital birth.

She didn’t want people to see her like that but this isn’t something carmy wanted to miss.

He heard his own father missed his birth and Carmy didn’t want to bring that curse down to his child.

It was a shitty feeling to have and he discussed it in meetings but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Would he be a good enough father when he didn’t know the first thing about healthy love?

He felt like he was doing okay with Sash but that didn’t mean those feelings completely went away. The self-doubt when it came to relationships with other people was such a bitch.

He could try to get through those issues but he knew it would probably always be there.

Yet he did the one thing Mr. Berzatto couldnt, he showed up, pressing a palm into the stretch of Sasha’s lower back, her immediately exhaling at his touch.

“I’m here, Sash-quatch.” Carmy whispered to Sasha who just nodded her head.

His bright blues went to Chantelle who says, “she’s handling herself very well, contractions are now four minutes apart. Pressing into her back like that helps relieve the pressure but when that next one hits, we’re gonna get her up onto her feet since she’s been down in that position for awhile now.”

“Um, o-okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

“You’re gonna be swell, just be in tune with her.” Chantelle encourages in all her bohemian glory as she double checks on her supplies for both mother and child.

Carmy takes a seat on the bed, leaning forward in the opposite direction as he presses both hands into Sasha’s lower back, “how we doing?”

She groans, slightly lifting her head as Carmy peeked at her from underneath his arm, “I’m so glad that I got this pixie cut three months into this shit, otherwise my kitchen would look crazy right now.”

Carmy’s lips twitched at that, eyes briefly scanning over her shortened hair, “well I’d think you’d still be pretty regardless…considering that you’re bringing a life into the world with us.”

“Oh,” she deeply exhales, “just wait until I shit myself.”

“What?” Genuine concern passed over Carmy’s features, “thats a thing?”

“Yes…guess you didn’t get too far into those books you were deep diving into huh?”

Carmy had his twenty minute naps to blame for that. Yes he brought a book or three on pregnancy and tried to save at least five minutes on his smoke breaks to read something.

He preferred that than the graphic YouTube videos Sasha sent, respectfully.

“Well, hopefully that’s not the case with you but…I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Famous last words.” Sasha joked just as Chantelle came over to encourage Carmy to get Sasha onto her feet.

Carmy kept assisting Sasha through the pressure, holding her belly from behind as they rocked side to side slowly. He wasn’t sure what exactly this did for the baby but it seemed to help Sasha and that’s what mattered to Carmy.

He tried his best to keep his cool but his heart rate definitely spiked up when Chantelle signaled minutes later that now was the time to get Sasha onto their bed.

Carmy tries to be Sasha’s security blanket although she’s constantly reminding him to breathe himself, head pressing into Carmy’s jaw as he’s glued right to her side while Chantelle checks how things are going down below.

“Yes! There’s a head full of hair I’m seeing. You’re ready, girl.” Chantelle says while she nods her head to carmy.

He turns to the item on his right, taking the rag from the bowl of water to squeeze out before wiping Sasha’s drenched forehead then allowing it to rest against her skin.

“Okay, here we go, Sash.” Carmy held his hand out for the woman to grasp while slipping another arm underneath her shoulders.

Chantelle helped Sasha get into position down below as she provides gentle words of encouragement while instructing her and Reminding her how to push and let them know when she was ready.

Best decision Sasha made having her best friend be her doula since she learned that her own mother had a crap doctor that she argued with when she gave birth to her.

Sasha didn’t want that experience at all.

The comfort of being in your own bed, lavender essential oil in the air, Solange playing in the background, and the guidance of Chantelle was all Sasha could ask for.

Carmy was just as patient as Chantelle, not minding at all how tight Sasha squeezed the nerves out of his hand

taking her pain to ease her’s was a win in his eyes.

And he’ll just pop some ibuprofen along with some ice later, no big deal.

“You got this, Sash. You’re almost there, just a few more like Telly said.” Carmy says as Sasha lays exhausted and slumped against his arm.

“It’s just us?”

“Just us three against the world, yeah. You just gotta get him there, you’re so close. You’re doing so well.” Carmy leans over to place a kiss to the corner of her head before sending one tap to her forehead, four taps to her nose, and three to her lips.

Which brought a smile to her lips along with the motivation to give two more big pushes that signaled a cry of welcome from their new bundle of joy.

Tears are thick in Carmy’s throat as Chantelle tends to their baby, cleaning him up.

“We did it,” Sasha croaks up at Carmy who breathes out a smile as he almost slides off the bed onto his knees himself, arms still locked around Sasha.

“He’s Ah, Sash. He’s perfect.” Carmy laughs a bit, moving his eyes away from what he could see of his child as he places a peck to Sasha’s lips.

“Here’s your parents little one,” Chantelle coos after checking him over for awhile as she hands over the baby to Sasha who instantly cradles him to her chest.

Carmy’s running his free hand through his tangled and oily hair as he’s in complete awe staring at the person he helped create.

This feeling was nothing he could have imagined.

When he held his niece, Abigail, he already knew he was going to love her but having his own child??

The best part of his heart was now on the outside in the arms of a woman he loved.

Baby berzatto kept his midnight blues locked on Sasha who was already in love but that didn’t stop him from reaching out to cup Carmy’s finger and held on.

Carmy brings his little hand up to his lips to kiss it, “I see you buddy, happy birthday.”

His eyes are glossy with tears as Sasha shifts her smile from baby berzatto to Carmy, seeing the adoration in his eyes.

“Look what we did…but he looks like me.”

“Yeah thank goodness for that, but he’s got my eyes and nose though.”

“Great, which means I’m going to be further jumpscared at night with his diaper changes.”

Carmy snorts with a roll of his eyes, “Ah, whatever, I’ll take his shit more than yours.”

“Did I?” Sasha’s craning her neck to see but Carmy is pressing his fingertips into the side of her shoulder to ease her.

Chantelle stands at the foot of the bed as she’s wiping her hands, “nope! Just some tearing but we’ll get you both to the hospital in a few. Just take this moment in you two.”

Carmy’s arm definitely fell asleep awhile ago underneath Sasha but with a roll of his wrist from time to time, he could deal with it.

He was just in awe watching baby berzatto who kept drifting from having his round midnight eyes wide open to fighting sleep.

“So…what now?” Carmy asks.

There’s that feeling, always waiting for the other shoe to drop but Sasha shushes him, slowly lifting up, alarming carmy who’s ready to push her back down to rest, “hey, what’re doing—

“You said what’s next? Hold our son: Bennett “Benny” Michael Berzatto.”

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat hearing the name out loud, “I—I don’t know.”

“He’s not letting go of you anyways so you might as well.”

This much was true, Benny didn’t seem to be letting go any time soon.

So Carmy carefully scooped the boy into his arms, Benny’s eyes quickly opening as he realized he was in his other parent’s arms and his grin was all too familiar before he closed his eyes again, squeezing Carmy’s finger tighter.

A kiss was placed onto Benny’s forehead and Carmy couldn’t help but to inhale his scent knowing he wasn’t letting go either.

Bennett “Benny” Michael Berzatto born June 12th 2024 at 6:42pm weighing in at 6lbs 7 oz and that’s the day Carmy’s life truly began to feel worth something.

And when he turned back to the tired woman who gave him the gift of Benny he couldn’t help but to thank her as she repeated 1-4-3 taps upon his face.

His lips kissed the pad of her finger in the end while he held their sleeping child.

A meaningful life suddenly became much more important than the constant waiting for something terrible to fall onto Carmy’s plate.

˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚ ˚ʚꨄɞ˚

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

[dozenrozez-a]

Get To Know The Mun

What's your phone wallpaper? It's Tifa and cloud under some cherry blossoms

Last song listened to: Middle of the night by Loveless

Currently reading: Vox Machina - Kith & Kin by Marieke Nijkamp

Last movie: deadpool and wolverine

Last show: Outerbank @frxgmcnts made me watch it XD i am on season 2 episode 2 i think i just started watching season 2 right now

What are you wearing right now? - gray batman shirt and black pj pants

Piercings/Tattoos: i have my ears done and i am planning on getting a tattoo. messing with a few designs but basically it's my dog looking like the dogs from majoras mask with the song of healing under it. then i want the song of storms on my wrist. just a few zelda tattoo ideas and playing with some sibling tattoo ideas with my brothers

Glasses/Contacts? i need glasses.

Last thing you ate? for a meal? for dinner i made chicken Alfredo and Cesar salad. for a snack? a swiss roll

Favorite Color: pink!

Current obsession: Resident evil

Do you have a crush right now? like on a real person? maybe seonghwa. i only like men i know i can never have.

Favorite fictional character: i have so many. cloud, leon, link, blondes with blue eyes apparently

Last place you traveled: my kitchen

tagged by: i stole this from @r3dblccd tagging: no one but feel free to steal this from me and tag me in it ^^

[littlemissdoll]

the chicken cesar salad and diet coke combo is hitting rn😩

[theaccidentfactory]

Save me Magnus archives episode, chicken cesar pasta salad, and energy drink. Save me......

[notesfromthepalace]

Fit and Fine

I am officially 16lbs down Sissy Poohs:

What I have realized is the white girls have been on to something.

You know when you watch early 2000 sitcoms, you know, before the whole body positivity thing and inclusivity thing, when all of the white girls were counting calories. I thought that was crazy but that is what has skyrocketed my weight loss.

Essentially, with the first 7-9lbs lost, I had changed up my diet and started working out again. I was doing well and started seeing progress and then - boom, plateau.

I downloaded the "Lose-It" app that helped me set up a plan based on how fast I want to reach my goal of 165lbs. Essentially, based on how much I workout, with 10k steps a day and eating between 1400-1600 calories, I should reach my goal by October 9th, next month; I'm excited.

I think its definitely feasible since I'm 5lbs away from my goal with about a month left.

Losing weight, eating all three meals a day with a snack feels so much better. The first time I lost weight, I was just starving myself, so I felt like I looked slim, but I my face was drooping and I looked plushy/soft.

Versus now, I look more toned, my face looks chiseled, and honestly, I am fine as hell.

I meal prep 3 boiled eggs (just the egg white chilllllle, I don't want high cholesterol), for lunch, I eat a full fruit jar, abut 14oz, then a small dinner consisting of some type of protein (usually chicken), and either a boiled sweet potato (about 88 calories), a small spinach salad with one tablespoon of Cesar dressing and a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese (about 114 calories) or 1/3 cup of white rice (42 calories). On the weekends I don't workout but I still take Coco for her two mile walk and I am usually still able to obtain about 10k steps a day.

I also indulge in scrambled eggs (one full egg and two egg whites) with cheese, garlic salt, onion and black pepper with bacon. But that meal is so filling what it usually keeps me full for the most part. I also still drink coffee with French vanilla creamer every morning - but no added sugar because the cream alone makes the coffee 420 calories.

That's another thing this app and my journey have taught me - looking at serving sizes and actually calculating the amount of calories are in a meal and how much I am actually eating.

If I am being completely honest, seeing the numbers made me feel like a freaking vacuum.

The above gif is a reference to the rapper Ice Spice calling Cleotrapa (another rapper) a vacuum for eating everything brought to their table at an Italian restaurant.

The first day I used the app I had inputed my breakfast and measured everything: Within an hour I had consumed almost 800 calories, talk about a fat-ass right!!

I love using the app. I also love the fact that I was able to link my Apple Watch so I can accurately get a count of my steps, calories burned in my workouts, how long I stand for, etc.

Make sure you do what works for you. I am one of those people that cute outfits, the color pink, and seeing visual representations of my efforts, are what propels me to go harder and further. I literally only bought my Apple Watch for fitness purposes and made sure the band was pink. I have arm weights that are 1lb I wear around the house while doing chores, the leg warmers to add some spunk to my workout outfits, pink 32oz water bottle, my meal prep jars are pink, did I mention I did pink French tip this week? I think I have made my point.

Lastly, as long as you are reaching your goal in a healthy way, don't allow people to tell you:

"you're fine"

"you look great"

"you need to eat more"

"oh so you wanna be skinny"

"I can't hang around you"

Or whatever the hell else they say. Most people say these things from a place of insecurity because they don't have the determination or disciple to achieve goals that they would love to have - but can't do - and would rather make excuses. If being slimmer and healthier is what makes you happy, do it! Don't listen to the naysayers. They just want you to be miserable like them (jk, but I'm serious).

In all, I am proud of myself this time around where I am learning to create a sustainable healthy lifestyle. It also helps that my boyfriend is literally a gym rate who consumes protein like we breathe air, insane, but helpful.

If you have questions or want to start, please feel free to leave comments, ask questions, dm - or just do your own thing.

I hope this inspired you.

Remember, there's only three month left in the year, meaning nine months until the Summer of 2025. You have more than enough time to get in shape and be a beach babe.

As always,

With love,

Sarah Chanel

P.S.

Once in a blue, I eat a snickers bar

[hyperfixationsstation]

bagged cesar salad and sams club rotisserie chicken is top tier dinner imo