#i did not want to go out again to get more pie crust and i hate making it by hand

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

have you ever tempted all the gods and fates with the amount of quiche filling you pour into a quiche

[thepenultimateword]

Sugar and Spice

Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.

He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."

Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"

"Excuse me?"

He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."

"You're department is doing what you're told."

"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"

Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."

Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."

Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."

Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.

Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.

That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?

Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.

Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.

Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.

First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.

He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.

He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."

Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.

Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"

The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.

"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.

"You're a henchman, right?" she said.

"Um...yes?"

Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."

Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.

She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.

Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."

Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."

Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"

Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.

"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."

"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.

"Not anymore."

"But Supervillain--"

"Has different orders."

Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?

"Yep."

"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"

"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."

"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"

Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."

"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"

"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."

Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"

"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."

Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.

"Ok."

Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.

Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.

He yawned widely.

What sort of things...did Villain...like...?

Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.

"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.

Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.

"I'm sorry!"

Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."

"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.

Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."

"This is our safe house?"

"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."

Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.

Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.

Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?

The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.

Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.

As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"

Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"

"You're support; you need to keep watch."

"For what?"

"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.

Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"

Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”

“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."

Villain sighed. "What?"

"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”

“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.

“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”

Villain shot upright. “What?”

“Combat isn’t my speciality.”

“But you’re a combat henchman!”

Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”

"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”

"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”

“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”

“Villain?”

She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"

Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."

Part Two

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[appleblueberry-pie]

https://www.tumblr.com/appleblueberry-pie/744637913769345024/yandere-housewife-satoru-x-reader

You really ate with this once 🫡

I can’t help but thinking about some deviously delicious angst though… like reader leaving him. Anyway-

Romance yandere fic gone wrong and now it's angst cuz the love of his life left him and now its a dark yandere fic?????? You guys always know how to keep me going.

SOULMAAAATES!

Will you notice the salt in the pie he made? It's not much, just the tears of his anxiety and fear kind of making itself known when he was putting the crust strips on to seal the filling in. He doesn't think you will. Especially since you kind of stopped caring about the meals he's been making you for this past week or so. He lets out a shaky sigh as he examines the near-perfect pie he just took out of the oven. Dreading the moment of giving you the plate, he cuts you a big piece. Maybe you'll appreciate it more if there's more of it for you to eat?

He stares down at his work as he brings it over to you at the dining table. When he looks up, you have that same look on your face that you've been making all week. Boredom and impatience. He meets your eyes, setting the plate down and then sitting next to you to see your reaction. "Here you go. I haven't tweaked the recipe or anything, if you were wondering." He mutters the last few words and watches you chew a big bite. You roll your eyes and continue eating it as if you feel like you're obligated to finish. Satoru felt dread pool in his stomach. Why were you acting this way towards him?? Did he do something?

You haven't said a single word to him all day. You haven't checked up on him, you've been ignoring his calls and have been coming home late. You seemed to come home smelling like an entire other person. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think or to believe anything that could lead to why you were behaving this way towards him. Despite him clawing his chest every night at needing to at least feel you once, he thinks things are actually perfectly fine the way they are. No need to dig deep or to follow you to and from work to see if you're sneaking around behind his back or anything.

But somehow, he found himself in a concealed black outfit watching you from outside of the cafe that he sat at from a distance as you gave all of your attention to some chick you were clearly chopping it up with. He continued chewing on his ruined straw of his drink as you scooted closer to her instinctually and cracked so many jokes with her, it was a surprise she didn't die from a laugh attack or something. She clearly wanted to get into your pants, and you let her hands roam on you like he once did with you.

Did you not love him anymore? Is that what this was? He could play whatever role you wanted him to. He'd be your bitch, he'll dress up in whatever you want, let you call him names and pull at his hair and face. Just...anything but fucking cheat. He wanted to yell at you and beg you to come back at the same time. He wanted to murder her in front of your face and just drag you back home and never let you out again. His feet carried him to your table three stores away, legs numb with adrenaline and head pounding.

He stood in front of your table and watched you stare up at him in slight surprise. Your arm was across the back of the girls chair and she stared back up at him in confusion. ".......is this where you've been?" His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest and his voice was wobbly. He hated everything about this.

"Excuse me?" You saved face and played confusion, still relaxed in your chair. The girl turned to whisper to you if you knew him and you shook your head. Satoru felt his hands shake at seeing you lie to her face about your relationship status. So it all meant nothing to you? He stuck with you since he was a stupid teenage freak. Too strong for his own good, desperate for something new and true for his heart to hang onto. You were his salvation, you were real to him. You gave him exactly what he needed. Love, validation, excitement, fun and so much he couldn't get out of his childhood, out of his job or anywhere else on the fucking planet. You were his everything and here you were brushing off 10 years with a shake of your head.

"What??......no." He shook his head and pointed at you, trying to form words in his mind to spit out of his mouth. "You've been cheating on me this past month. Coming home late, acting like I'm nothing....leaving me all alone. Am I nothing to you?? Am I? I gave myself to you a-and you're out cheating-"

"Gojo, I don't give a fuck." You shake your head and ignored the girl giggling to herself. "I'm clearly cheating on you. I didn't want you to fucking stalk me though. That's weird as hell, i was just hoping you'd break it off, honestly...why are you laughing?" You turn back to the girl, her smile making you smile. "I just think it's cute that you're cheating with me..." "You like that?" Satoru switches his gaze to the slut on your arm and your face drops as he tackles her to the ground. Her screech as he plummets her face into the ground makes you grab Gojo by the collar to bring him off of her. It happened so fast, you wished you could've predicted when it happened, because nothing could've stopped him from killing her in that moment in time.

She was definitely dead. The concrete underneath what used to be her head was cracked, her blood seeping right into them. "You fucking killed her." "BECAUSE YOU CHEATED!" He panted heavily, fury fueling his anger. Both of his hands were covered in a dark dripping crimson and you heaved a sigh. His blood felt like it was burning as it coursed through his veins violently. For some reason, his vision felt as if it was blurry. Maybe it was from tears or from the extreme stress you were putting him in. Either way, he couldn't think straight. Not when you stared at him like that. "YOU FUCKING CHEATED. And you want to be mad? How about I fucking kill you next?" He was talking out of his ass, but for some reason, he felt as if he needed to do something about this. He couldn't just let you go. You were supposed to be his until the end of time. What if you go outside to cheat again?? He's stronger than you, he could probably bring you back to the house without problems.

He began convincing himself that kidnapping you would probably be the best solution for you. He's heard of stockholm syndrome. Maybe then, you'll love him back. He wonders how long that would take. "I think.....I think it's time we go home, don't you think?" "I'm leaving." When you turned, he grabbed your arm, and suddenly you two were back in your shared living room. You turned back to Gojo and glared. "Let me go." "Shhhh, just let me love you." You scrunched your eyebrows and saw him dig into his back pocket before putting what was probably a pill into his mouth. "What the fuck are you doi-?" He slammed his lips onto yours, placing his stained hands on either side of your face. He does quick work of shoving the pill into your mouth with his tongue, making you swallow it. You bite his lip as hard as you can, tasting warm iron on your tongue immediately. His only reaction was to moan like a psycho, continuing to kiss you sloppily.

You finally find a middle ground and managed to place your hands on his chest, shoving him away. He looked insane with his messy hair and bloodied lips. But you couldn't say anything quick enough, for he closed the distance, a fist being the last thing you see before you black out.

Gojo had always been stronger than you. But never in your 10 year relationship has he ever put his hands on you. And never has he drugged you and dragged you to the basement of your shared living space for however long he desired to make you "love him again". Every day, he'd feed you as much as he could and would beg for your forgiveness and love. You'd spit in his face(a warm welcome, in his opinion), and tell him to let you go. Or just say nothing. But if you didn't say anything, he'd just pester you for longer than he usually would. You hated bath time with him, you hated when he took care of you, you hated being worshipped by him. You just wanted to be free. But you were his only escape, his freedom. And it would be that way until your life wasted away entirely.

[softspeirs]

hiya katie! i hope you're having a lovely evening. could i please request "27. — boxes" for....ellie and bucky, please? (or anyone you are feeling!) <3 — @shoshiwrites

A/N: Hiya Sho! I had another person ask for more of Bucky and Ellie as they settle into their relationship, so combining these two prompts if that's ok! This one is another lil interlude. Pals, I'll take more prompts from this list if you've got 'em!

When the box first arrived on Ellie's doorstep courtesy of the mailman, she set it on the kitchen table and refused to look at it for the rest of the day.

She'd stop by the cluttered table and pretend it wasn't there, worrying her thumbnail with her teeth.

"D'ya think it's a bomb?" Her brother whispers in her ear, and she jumps.

"You startled me!" She smacks at his arm, and he laughs as he ducks out of the way.

"What are we looking at? Mail?"

"It's not just mail," she says, exasperated. "It's-- it's from John's--"

Her brother picks it up, an absolutely irritating smile growing on his face. "His mother!" He squawks, shoving it at her like she hadn't already realized where it had come from, seeing the Wisconsin postmark. "Do you think he knows she sent something?"

"I suspect not, or if he did, he was too embarrassed to say anything."

Her brother laughs again, and Ellie flushes. "Don't you dare say anything when he comes for dinner."

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Ellie feels so foolish - she can't explain why she's so nervous. It's just that it's Bucky's mother, and it feels serious in a way that she wasn't prepared for.

(There's also a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminding her that John said he only got one or two letters from his mother while he was in the Stalag, and even though she doesn't know the reasoning behind it, it still makes protectiveness surge up inside her - she wishes Mrs. Egan would have sent a package to her son, instead)

It's hours later when Bucky - and Buck, she's delighted to see - arrive. Bucky has a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, and he's laughing as he holds open the front gate for his friend.

She loves seeing him laugh.

She pulls open the door before they can knock. Marvels at how they mirror each other - both pulling off their caps, smoothing their hair.

"Majors," she drawls.

"Ma'am," Buck greets her with an amused half-smile. "Hope you don't mind I'm crashing your dinner."

"Of course not." Ellie steps closer to pull him into a one-armed hug. His arm tightens around her shoulder. "Go on in, Dad and Henry are in the kitchen."

Inside, introductions are made. Henry tries not to look too in awe of the Majors, but at fifteen, it's hard for him to hide it.

Ellie heads to the kitchen to finish up the last of the veggie pie she's been working on - the farmer down the way miraculously still had some butter on hand, and she's been babying a pie crust all afternoon.

She smiles to herself when Bucky's familiar footfalls sound behind her. His arms slide around her waist, and she grins, even as her cheeks warm.

"Behave yourself."

He hums. "Always."

She turns around to get a good look at him. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, and she hopes to see that look on his face for the rest of both their lives.

"Hello." She whispers.

He closes the distance between them. The kiss is light and chaste but still sets her heart racing. "Hi." He replies when they break apart. "You're sure you've got enough for one more person?" His expression turns concerned. "I don't want to put you out if you were planning on only feeding four."

"I have enough. You both need to eat, anyway."

He kisses her temple. "Too good to me." He mutters. He busies himself setting the table, and she hears the moment he stops short. Her eyes widen when she remembers.

"Oh!" She turns around quickly to find him frowning, the box already in his hand.

"Uh-- this is from..."

"Your mother. I got it today."

He looks at her, confused. "I... I have no idea what this is. How did she--"

Ellie fidgets. "I may have snooped the last time you left me alone in your room for a minute. I wanted your home address so I could write to her."

Bucky doesn't look angry or upset, he just looks so bewildered, Ellie could laugh. "You wrote to my..."

"Everything alright?" God bless Gale Cleven, Ellie thinks.

"Fine!" She says breezily, shoving a serving bowl and cutlery in his hands. "Set these out for me?"

He does as he's asked, but he keeps an eye on his friend. Ellie's heart clenches. She wonders how often he had to do this, had to study Bucky's expression to try to figure out if something was wrong.

"My mother sent El a package." Bucky says.

"Wedding dress?"

John gapes at his friend. Gale, on the other hand, is sporting a shit-eating grin not unlike the one Henry had earlier. "I-- we're-- why would you--"

"Relax, Egan. Just assumed."

"You think I wouldn't have told you--"

"It was a joke." Buck looks at Ellie for help. "That was a joke, Ellie."

"I know." She flaps her hands at her side uselessly. "I haven't opened it yet. I was... I was nervous! I know it's silly."

"Oh, god, Ma..." Bucky mutters, almost to himself. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up out of Ellie. "You'd better go on then, I won't be able to eat unless I know she didn't send you my most embarrassing childhood photos."

"Neither will I." Gale deadpans.

Bucky hands Ellie the box across the dining room table, and she sets it down with nervous hands, reaching for her kitchen scissors to cut the ties.

Inside are a few bars of chocolate, which she knows Henry will swipe given half the chance, a small framed photo of Bucky in uniform, and a few sheafs of paper tucked into a brand-new leather bound diary.

She unfolds the letter first, muttering to herself about it being too much.

Bucky watches as her eyes well up as she reads, and feels himself practically vibrating as he tries to imagine what Mrs. Frances Egan has said to this woman he's pretty confident is going to be his wife one day. He's nervous and happy all wrapped up in one - he never told Ellie that he had written to his mother when he got back to Thorpe Abbotts to firstly reassure her that he was in one piece, but also to tell her that he thought he had found the woman of his dreams.

Knowing that Ellie had written to her without his knowledge... far from being upset that she kept it from him, he's touched because knowing Ellie, knowing what her own letters to him had been like, he knows she was writing to introduce herself, to tell someone important to him that she was taking care of him. He just knows it, without even having read the words.

"El?" Gale asks, and god if Bucky doesn't love seeing his best friend treat his girl like a sister. The quiet affection they have for each other already is like a balm for his soul after the last year and a half of a cold, gray, unfeeling existence.

"I'm okay," she insists, "It's-- oh, she's so nice." Ellie says, passing the letter off to John. "There's a page addressed to you; I didn't read it."

John still feels as if he's been whacked upside the head. This entire thing is so unexpected.

His mother tells Ellie (Eleanor, she had written) that she was so happy to hear from her, that she hopes Ellie has seen for herself that John was in one piece, and she talks at length about John's sisters. It makes him smile, to see how easily she's bringing Ellie into their lives.

The part, he's pretty sure, that had made Ellie cry was at the end. My son is so lucky to have someone like you to take care of him, though he'll deny he needs help at all. He's stubborn, but it sounds like you are as well. That's good - keep him in line for me. I've enclosed a journal and some stationary. Please keep writing if you'd like. The girls and I will be seeing you in person soon, I'm sure. I hope, anyway.

The page addressed to him is short and sweet. His mother writes in a vaguely threatening tone that he better make an honest woman out of Eleanor Peters soon. His heart rate kicks up when she asks if there's another, smaller box that she should send over soon.

Buck makes himself scarce after the table is set, with a knowing look at Bucky that makes him roll his eyes.

He walks over to Ellie, who is struggling to meet his eyes. He finds it so so endearing. "El." His fingers find her chin, tipping it up until she meets his eyes. "You wrote to my mother."

"'Course I did." She says, embarrassed. "Had to let her know her son was alive and well. You probably sent her half a page. 'Back from Stalag. In the hospital. Don't worry'", she mimics his deeper voice.

That pretty much is what Bucky sent home, but he doesn't admit it.

"Thank you. I hope this isn't-- I hope this didn't scare you off."

"It's too much. I can't accept this--" she says, but he's already shaking his head, hand sliding along her cheek until it threads through her hair, hand massaging her scalp in a way that is always so comforting when she does it to him.

"It's a gift. She wants you to have it, and honestly I'll be offended if you don't put that picture on your bedside table." He bats his lashes rapidly.

"Oh, shut up." She huffs, laughing. "Dinner is going to get cold."

He kisses her forehead, but lets her go, and they call her Dad, Henry, and Gale back into the dining room to sit down. Bucky regales her brother with stories while Buck chimes in once in a while to correct the record, much to his friend's chagrin, and over the rims of his glasses, her father grins at him.

This is the fullest their little house has been in a long time. Her chest tightens at the thought of leaving it behind, even if it is to go home with Bucky.

She tries to leave her worries for another day. In the meantime, she's already started to think of what she can send Mrs. Egan and her daughters in return.

Under the table, Bucky's hand finds hers, and he squeezes, like he can tell her brain is going a thousand miles an hour.

She smiles. She'll start packing a box in the morning.

[roosterforme]

The Deployment Diaries Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley needs to tell you he’s leaving again in a few weeks. 

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst, adult banter, smut

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

Bradley sat on the couch for a long time. He didn't know how to tell you about this new deployment. He'd only been home for three fucking days! At this rate, he'd be lucky if you were still living here and waiting for him when he came back after this next one. Eight goddamn weeks apart seemed like too much to ask of you. "Fuck," he shouted at the wall you had painted. He'd been spoiled; other than the Uranium plant special detachment, this past deployment had been his first since last July. He didn't want to leave again. Only four weeks home with you before eight more weeks away from you didn't feel fair, but who was he supposed to take it up with? Uncle Sam?

Phoenix had called and confirmed she would be deployed with him this time. At first it felt like a silver lining, but then Bradley got even angrier. That was one less friend you'd have here while he was gone. One less person who loved you and would look out for you.  His phone rang, and he felt like throwing it across the room. But then he realized it was your mom calling on facetime to help him prepare dinner for you. He'd had this planned with her since before he left on the last deployment. So he cleared his throat, put on a happy face, and headed into the kitchen. "Hey! Thanks for helping me do this," he said, propping his phone up on the counter and grabbing your apron. "I'm definitely improving, but I really want this to be edible," he told her with a laugh.  "No problem, honey. She's going to love it. Now start with flour, butter and salt. And you'll need to find a rolling pin." Almost two hours later, Bradley was looking down at something that actually resembled a chicken pot pie. It was kind of lumpy, and the pie crust had his finger marks all over it where he'd had to smash it closed, but still, it looked alright. He jotted down the baking instructions, thanked your mom profusely and went out for a quick run to clear his head.  After five miles, he still didn't know how to break the deployment news to you so he headed home to put dinner in the oven and take a shower. He heard your key in the front door lock just as he was pulling on clean gray sweatpants and a clean shirt.  "Bradley?" you called and he jogged out to give you a hug. "Why does it smell like something is cooking?" you asked, very concerned.  "Because something is cooking," he told you with a grin, pushing his fingers into your bun and messing up your hair. "I'm making you dinner." He leaned down and kissed you softly.  You held his face in your hands and eyed him skeptically. "Really?" He smiled at you and pulled you flush against him. "Really. And I think it turned out okay, because your mom helped me with it." He figured now was probably the best time to tell you about the papers, but you had your arms around his neck and you were rubbing yourself against him. "I love it when you're already here when I get home from work," you whispered against his lips. "And you know how I feel about you wearing these gray sweatpants." Bradley grunted as you caressed his semi-hard cock through the fabric. For some reason, these pants drove you wild. Something about being able to see the outline of his dick when he wore them without underwear.  "Did you wear them on purpose? Just for me?" you asked as you slipped your hand down inside them and cupped his balls.  "Fuck, Baby Girl. Everything I do is for you." You instantly dropped to your knees in front of him, yanking down the elastic waistband as you went. You smiled up at him as his dick stood at attention for you, and when you took his length between your lips, he groaned your name. Bradley had a girlfriend who gave him head while she was in uniform in the entryway of his house. Deployment number two was looking more and more grim by the minute as you sucked on him. When he was just starting to get close, you released him with a pop in favor of licking his balls and pulling them gently into your mouth. He was already about to cum when you wrapped those pretty lips around his cock once again, and Bradley rocked into you, hitting the back of your throat. He held your head with one hand and stroked your cheek with the other, coating your mouth and throat as he loudly muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." "Take me to bed, Roo." ------------------------------------------ Bradley carried you to the bedroom, called you Lieutenant multiple times as he removed your uniform, and ate your pussy before fucking you once he was hard again. Having him home was perfection. You hoped his next deployment was several months away so you could enjoy this lifestyle for a while.  "Dinner should be ready in five. Go get dressed and I'll feed you," he whispered before he disappeared into the kitchen.  Bradley's chicken pot pie was actually delicious, and you made a huge fuss over him as you sat on his lap at the dining room table. "Look at the carrots! You cut them all up the same size! They cook more evenly when you do that," you gushed, taking another bite. "And you seasoned it really nicely." The proud smile on your boyfriend's face had you laughing, but his brown eyes looked a little sad. "What's the matter, Roo?" He started to shake his head, and you could tell he was going to try to deny that something was bothering him. "Just tell me. You'll feel better if you do." He swallowed hard and your eyes dropped to the scar on his neck. You stroked his skin there, and he closed his eyes. He was just so handsome. "Baby Girl. I got papers in the mail today." Your fingers froze on his scar. "Papers?" you asked, but your heart was already sinking.  "Yeah," he said as he nodded and met your gaze. He looked miserable, and you could feel tears prickling the backs of your eyes. "I leave the first week of April. Less than four weeks from now." A tear slid down your cheek, and Bradley tracked it with his eyes. "How long?" you whispered.  He gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Eight weeks. Pacific Ocean. On land and on a carrier." Your lip quivered and you couldn't speak, but Bradley held you against his chest and let you cry.  --------------------------------------- He knew he had to soak up as much of this domestic shit as he could, because he loved it so much. So Bradley spent his week off fixing up everything in the house so it was in perfect order for you when he was gone again. He fixed the ice maker that you had broken right before Christmas, and he planted flowers in the backyard for you to enjoy. And then every day when you got home from work, he held you so tight.  On Friday, you came home from work frazzled. "We're getting some new engineers from Annapolis next month. Commander Bickel just told me about it today." Bradley hugged you and kissed your forehead as you set your work bag down and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Why is that a bad thing?" You snuggled against his chest. "It's not. It's just going to be a lot of work for me. I'm supposed to help Bickel pick one of the engineers to stay on permanently. I'm really really really hoping this means I'll get a promotion within the next year. Maybe I can just deep dive into work while you're gone. I really want to be in charge of one of the labs." Bradley kissed the top of your head. "Just give it some time. Your superiors know how good you are. And don't overdo it, okay? Working too much won't help you, Sweetheart." You looked up at him. "I'm going to have to find something to occupy myself for eight weeks." Bradley groaned. "Maybe I'll fail my eye exam and get to stay home with you and collect my pension early. Alexa, how can I fake failing an eye exam?" You burst into laughter, and Bradley lit up from the inside. He didn't really hear Alexa's response because now you were kissing him. "You wanna take a quick detour to the bedroom before dinner?" he whispered to you.  "Oh, shit," you replied and checked the time. "I need to get to the pharmacy and pick up my birth control, and then I need to buy a baby shower gift for Macy before we go to the Hard Deck." "Macy from your lab?" Bradley asked. He was pretty sure he'd met her once when he brought you lunch.  "Yeah, she and her wife are adopting a baby, and I want to get a good gift from the registry before it's only a bunch of ugly onesies left." Bradley didn't want to let go of you. "Can I come with you?" You nodded against his chest. "If you feed me a sandwich before we leave, then yes, you can come with me." ---------------------------------- You believed it was truly a testament to how much Bradley loved you when he agreed to let you eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the Bronco while he drove you to the pharmacy. He had the neatest car you'd ever been in, which was impressive since it was a 1971 model year. You had been nervous to drive the precious thing while he was away.  The line to pickup your prescription was long, and Bradley was a little handsy. You were trying to get him to behave by giving him side-eye, but you could feel his fingers creeping under your tee shirt. He was drawing little circles on your back and smiling as you glared halfheartedly.  "What do you think you're doing, Bradshaw?" you whispered when his fingertips dipped down inside the top of your jeans.  "Just waiting in line," he replied with a shrug. He leaned down and kissed the side of your neck. You would have groaned if you hadn't bit your lip in time. "Waiting in line with my beautiful girlfriend." "You need to behave." His behavior wasn't much better on the way to buy a baby gift. His palm was large, heavy and warm on your thigh, and you could feel him stroking you through the fabric with his thumb. "Are you trying to make me tell you we should go home instead?" Bradley grinned as he kept his eyes on traffic. "Of course not, Sweetheart. I'm helping you with your errands. I'm making it more fun, right?" "More fun or more frustrating, I'm not exactly sure which..." Bradley chuckled as he parked. "Let's go find this baby something other than an ugly onesie." He stuck by your side the whole time, offering frequent kisses, and occasionally luring you away to look at something fun. "Check it out, airplane bedding. Can we get this for the baby?" He was holding up a cute little quilt and sheet set with a colorful airplane pattern.  You laughed. "Oh, that's really cute! But it's not on their registry. Apparently they want outer space crib bedding." "Boo," Bradley said as he picked up a cute little lamp that matched the airplane bedding. You watched his large, graceful hands picking up and examining tiny baby items all over the store. Onesies looked extra tiny in his hands. And most of the strollers were too short for him to comfortably push them. "It's discrimination against tall people," he had told you.  Then he kept picking up little wooden puzzles and pull-along toys, and your heart clenched, because you knew he would be a good dad. It was so obvious. All he seemed to have inside of him was love to give away, in spite of the sadness he surely still felt over having lost both of his parents so young.   He turned and grinned at you. "Please get this for the baby. It's a little airplane puzzle, and the packaging says it's suitable for newborns. You can get this to go along with that lounger thing you were leaning towards." "Do you want to have kids?" you suddenly blurted out. Bradley froze with the puzzle game in his hands and stared at you with his lips slightly parted. Oh God, you really wished you hadn't said anything, because he looked like he had no idea how to respond to you practically screaming that at him.  ------------------------ Bradley could not formulate a sentence in his mind, let alone speak one out loud in response to you. Did he want to have kids? Well, fuck. He'd been forcing himself not to ask you the same question the entire time you'd been in this fucking adorable store.  How was he supposed to explain this to you? And now you looked like you were about to backpedal hard, so he knew his window of opportunity here was closing quickly.  Tossing the toy haphazardly back onto the shelf, he closed the distance between the two of you and let his right hand rest at your waist. "I'm going to ask you the same question, but first I'm going to say that no matter what your answer is, it's not a deal breaker for me." He took a deep breath, licked his lips and asked, "Do you want to have kids, Sweetheart?" Bradley's heart was pounding, and he felt hot and sweaty. You hummed and nodded your head. "I like kids, and I always thought maybe I'd have one or two eventually, or maybe adopt if I couldn't get pregnant. But not for a few more years," you told him, and his heart literally soared. "But, it's not a deal breaker for me either, Bradley!" you were quick to add, clearly thinking he didn't want to have kids with you. Bradley was practically panting, and he wasn't sure if he could verbally make sense of what was in his mind at the moment. "Baby Girl, I want to have kids with you. I keep thinking about building a little playhouse for the backyard. Maybe a jungle gym for when they get older." He watched you smile in response, so he kept going. "I never ever thought about any of this before you. I never let myself dream that I could have the kind of life that I have with you now. But, fuck... Y/N, if I ever got you pregnant, or you told me you wanted to apply to adopt... I don't even think I can put into words how happy that would make me." You launched yourself at him and pulled him in for a kiss. Bradley let you kiss him all over his face before he backed you up hard against a display of baby formula and devoured your mouth. Your hands slid down his chest and bunched up his shirt until you were touching his abs. He released your lips and you whimpered his name. "Baby Girl," he growled. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him tighter to you, and he pressed against your core, moaning into your mouth before you wrenched your lips away from his.  "Did our conversation get you hard?" you asked, sounding shocked. But Bradley noticed you were panting now too. "Yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head. "I'm fucking hard." "Fuck, let's get out of here, Roo," you whispered, and before he knew what was happening you were literally running toward the exit doors.  "But you didn't buy a gift," he said when he finally caught up with you.  "I'll order one online for fuck's sake. Let's go home," you demanded. "We're gonna be the ones everyone blames when that poor kid only gets ugly onesies," Bradley told you as he grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder. He ran across the parking lot while you laughed and squealed.  He set you down gently on the passenger seat, buckled you in, and just stared at you.  "Bradley, please, I'm literally squeezing my legs together!" "You're as turned on as I am," he whispered.  "Yeah! I am!" "Fuck!" he said loudly enough that an elderly couple gave the Bronco a wide berth.  "Get in and drive," you whined, and he quickly shut your door and sprinted around the back.  The ride was silent at first, and Bradley could hear you taking deep breaths. Rush hour traffic was heavy, and he was trying to find the best shortcut to take. But all the while his brain was whirring with the thought of turning one of the extra bedrooms into a nursery.  "Okay, but why exactly was that conversation so hot?" you asked him. He chanced a glance at you, but you were staring straight ahead. "I don't know, Baby Girl, but I'm still hard as a rock just thinking about it. Thinking about having a family with you." You moaned as Bradley finally turned onto your street. "I keep picturing you rocking a baby to sleep, and I'm having very strong reactions to it. You'd be such a good dad, Roo." He jerked the Bronco into the driveway, turned the engine off and unbuttoned his jeans. "Take your pants off and come here," he demanded, and you gasped as he shoved his jeans down a bit and pulled his cock out. "Now." With shaking hands, you removed your jeans and underwear. "It's not even that dark out yet," you said, sliding yourself over the console to straddle his lap. "The neighbors could see." But you were already slipping him inside your soaking wet pussy and riding him. "I don't care," he whispered before burying his nose and mouth into the side of your neck. "I don't fucking care, Baby Girl." He licked up and down along your neck, but he could tell you were already so far gone.  "Oh my God, Bradley. I'm already about to come," you whined a moment later, riding him harder.  "You got me there too, Sweetheart." Bradley came in your pussy as you whined and moaned so much, he was sure the neighbor's dog was barking in response to the sounds you were making.  And after that, all he could think about was his storage unit.  --------------------------- For the entire evening at the Hard Deck, Bradley was all over you. His hands were everywhere. If they weren't wrapped around your shoulders, they were on your ass. If he wasn't kissing your neck, he was playing with your hair. Shopping for baby stuff and getting on the same page about kids had done something to him. And you were all about it. You already knew he was the one, that was obvious. But now you were both in agreement that there would in some way, shape or form hopefully be kids in that house with you someday. You'd taken a moment on the ride to the bar to remind him that you were going to stay on birth control for now, but maybe in a couple years you'd stop. And he reminded you that he was more than happy to wait until you were ready. "You guys are acting like you're on your honeymoon," Phoenix noted with a smirk.  "Yeah, what is with you two?" asked Jake. "You're way more disgusting than usual, and that's saying something." "Mind your own business, Bagman," Bradley said, but there was no heat behind it, because he was currently curling a strand of your hair around his finger.  "You want me to play you a song tonight?" he asked you softly. "I'd love to play for you." You nodded, and Bradley guided you to the piano bench next to him and started playing Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. You sang along with him when you knew the words, and when you didn't you just listened to him sing.  Can you hear me calling out your name?

You know that I'm falling, and I don't know what to say.

I want to be with you everywhere. You didn't last much longer at the bar before you were on your way home. All of the urgency from earlier was gone now, but Bradley was holding your hand in his while he sang along to his Motown playlist, and you felt like you were melting. You walked slowly up the sidewalk together, and Bradley played with your hair while you unlocked the front door. Once inside, you walked toward the bedroom, and he followed.  "I love you," fell from his lips maybe a hundred times as he pushed himself inside you and loved your body so well, it left you no doubt that he loved the rest of you too. 

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

Thanks for reading! Part 7 is one of my favorites, and I can’t wait to post it!

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Also I'm sorry my mind is Lorcan mush right now 😂 but like him baking with his soft SO? Like she made him his own apron and it's fall so there's a slight chill, she had flour smeared on her cheek and he's chuckling as she shows him how to properly roll put a pie crust because he messed up the first one

Managed to type this out before my body completely gave out. Been a long minute..

warning: slightly suggestive

Pie crusts

This man aka Lorcan was far from sweet in others' eyes. They crossed the street when he walked through the town. They never stared. Never struck a conversation. These were the basic rules. You just didn't. Because this man had a reputation. Had a name to him. And it made one shiver. Made you take a double look just to make sure that you haven't caused yourself trouble. Haven't ended up in a bad book. Because Lorcan had that predatory attitude. That cold-blooded killer look. One that drowned out any happy sounds around.

But if they only knew. If they only knew what kind of male hid away behind the cold mask. What kind of male he was when no one but you were watching? His beautiful, selfless, radiant mate. His life. His pride. His joy. You had Lorcan wrapped around your finger and people who got to see that, that mainly being the family, knew that Lorcan was nothing but a big gentle giant. One that would drop everything if a planted pot in your yard needed to be moved. One that stocked up your hygiene supplies every month because he knew that you would forget about it. One that did nothing but smile when he was in your presence.

"No, you need to put more flour on it", you pointed to the jar, watching the dough sticking to the rolling pin. Rolling pin that looked ridiculously tiny in Lorcan's hands. "You said to dust it once", he rumbled, yet still reached for it. "Yeah, but you probably put too much butter in it, so it's sticky", you said, turning to reach for the bottom layer. A tin filled with a berry jam you bad made first thing in the morning.

Lorcan let out a slight growl as he tried to roll the dough again, only to be met with the same sticky mess. "You can't scare the pie out, Lor", you chuckled slightly. Sometimes you wondered why he even agreed to participate in things like this. He had little to no patience yet if he saw you doing anything by yourself he never failed to ask if you wanted him to join you. Or he would simply join himself without saying a single word.

But pie making and Lorcan had a deep-rooted beef going for a couple of months. That was Lorcan's first attempt at making the pie crust. It had gone awfully bad and nothing usually went bad for Lorcan. This man was way too competitive. Way too sure of his abilities to fail at something. You had laughed till your stomach asked back then. Watching him scowling at the dough, your tiny apron barely covering his chest.

Now Lorcan had his apron on. Once you had made for him. One he had been strangely excited to receive. "Stan up for a minute", you had told him one evening while he was finishing his paperwork. Lorcan had given you a strange look but didn't question it. Especially when he saw the messing tape in your hands. "You know, my cock hasn't changed size", he cackled to himself while you hit his chest shaking your head, "You're disgusting, put your hand up, you brute". That had him cackling, while you tried to hide your smile. You had sowed him his apron that same night. Had chosen a much more dim color, no pastels but Lorcan had frowned as he looked at it. "I don't get to have a pocket with a flower?", he questioned, glancing at your apron that hung in the kitchen. "Oh, I... I didn't think you would want one", you admitted, reaching for a deep red thread but Lorcan beat you to it, "Make it pink and blue, like yours".

You smiled at the memory as you moved to stand beside him now. "Add some more flour and knead it through once more", Lorcan simply nodded his head, following your instructions. You reached to rub the back of his neck as he worked. You would have loved to run your fingers through his hair but it was put up in a messy bun, the baby blue scrunchy shining against his onyx-black hair. "You're doing great, honey", you said softly, watching him reform the dough back into a misshapen ball. "Usually, I'm the one praising you. This is new", he grumbled but his attention was full on the backed good he was desperate to craft perfectly.

You let out a light laugh, "You're making it sound as if I never tell you just how amazing you are", you scrunched up your nose and that was enough for Lorcan to lift his head to look at you. Any, even the smallest feeling of hurt or discomfort coming from your side crippled the dark wielded. "You do, you do...", his words died down as his eyes fell on your face. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?", you tilted your head to the side. "You have...", Lorcan's voice died down, "Let me get it for you", he said softly, fingers moving to brush over the tip of your nose, whipping away the flour. His touch lingered, moving to brush over your cheek next. "And something here", he muttered, before leaning in to softly kiss your lips. No rush. No eagerness. No need to rush as Lorcan softly kissed you over and over again.

"Smooth", you mumbled as you two finally broke apart. You turned your attention back to your mate, "You took your time with my lips. Must have been real dirty", you trialed off, and turned to check on the oven. Instantly feeling Lorcan's hands slipping around your middle, "They are dirty, especially when they are wrapped...", you elbowed him in the stomach, "Don't you finish that! You dirty, teenage fea baby...", Lorcan only laughed, smirking down at you. "Go finish the crust or you will die defeated by the pie", you pointed to the forgotten dough, ushering him away with a tea towel. Smiling to yourself when another laugh slipped past Lorcan's lips and the smooth sound of him humming filled the kitchen.

[buckysgrace]

Sweet, Cherry

Billy Hargrove x fem!OC

Flufftober 2024

Billy and Kim spend an afternoon baking pie for a party with their daughter.

Billy

“I’ve got it all prepped,” Kim said proudly, “We just need to get it mixed up.” She replied, showing off the crust she had rolled out. And the jar of cherries to the side. He was fairly certain that it was Rosemary’s mixture. 

“Obviously,” He chuckled, “You can’t bring it raw.” He teased her, brushing his fingers through her red hair. She had it tied back in a rather large scrunchy. It looked cute. 

“I didn’t say that,” She grinned as she playfully rolled her eyes, “I think Steve does have an oven though.” She pointed out, but he shrugged his shoulders. He doubted that anyone would have much time to keep an eye on a pie baking. 

“Hm,” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist, “I don’t think that’s how it works.” he leaned forward, pressing a few kisses against the curve of her neck. She shivered underneath his touch. 

“Maybe you’re right,” She replied as she continued to carefully spread out the crust at the bottom of the pan, “This is a lot harder than it looks.” She mumbled, furrowing her eyebrows together as he continued to watch. He thought it would’ve been easier just to have someone else bake it and they bring it. But she wanted to make it special. 

“You’re doing great,” He promised, nudging his nose gently against her neck, “I’m going to check on her.” He added softly, leaning back as she laughed gently. 

“Is the baby monitor off?” She teased him. He shook his head, knowing it was a running joke that he was a baby hog. He wasn’t. He just missed his little girl. 

“Maybe,” He shrugged his shoulders, knowing it was on and fully working. But he missed seeing his little girl. She was growing up so fast. He felt like he didn’t have a lot of time with her and it certainly shouldn’t be wasted on her taking such long naps, “I’ll be right back.” 

He headed upstairs to her nursery, pausing for just a moment to bend down and pet Dove. She liked being around the baby more than Pearl did. Well, Pearl liked to sit back and judge. Dove had been willing to let Cherry attempt to pet her. 

He entered the room gently, greeted by the Halloween decorations that he and Kim had put up a few weekends ago. It was soft and sweet, nothing that would scare the toddler. She seemed to like the colors though, especially the little night light they had found.

He was surprised at the little fists that stretched up into the air, followed by her knees pulling up to her chest as she stretched out. He grinned, feeling like it was perfect timing as she began to babble as she woke up. 

“Hi,” He greeted as he rested his elbows on her crib rails, peering down at her, “What are you doing?” He asked her, meeting her blue eyes as she gazed her attention up towards him. 

“Up!” She persisted, kicking her feet up to the sky again. She was already walking. He didn’t like it one bit. He wished she’d stay little forever. 

“You’re up?” He teased, “It looks like you’re still laying down.” He responded, tilting his head as she peered up at him curiously. 

“Out?” She asked, making little grabby fingers at him a second later. He leaned down, giving her forehead a little cheek. 

“You can come out,” He promised, gently holding onto her as he gently tugged her up into his arms, “Did you sleep good?” He asked as he shimmied her shirt down over her little belly.

“Long.” She sighed before she yawned deeply, rubbing her chubby fists against her eyes. He chuckled as he double checked her diaper before moving onto her messy red hair. It had grown out quite a bit, thick with little ringlets. 

She cooed softly as they walked back downstairs, perking up at the sight of the cats. She liked to try and run after them, although Pearl had given her a few warning swats before. She liked to watch, not to be messed with.

“There’s mommy.” He said, gently moving his hair out of her chubby fists as he turned her attention towards Kim.

“Hi!” She exclaimed, bouncing in his arms as a little giggle fell free. He gave her a little boost, earning a squeal from her this time. 

“Hi, Cherry,” Kim greeted as she gave both sides of her chubby cheeks a kiss, “Did daddy wake you up again?” She teased, brushing her fingers across her little tummy. 

“Uh huh.” Cherry nodded along, blue eyes flashing in enjoyment from the attention she was receiving. He furrowed his eyebrows together. 

“I did not wake her up.” He defended himself. He never woke her up, well, not on purpose. Occasionally she would wake up when he lifted her out of the crib, but she always fell back asleep in his arms. 

“Mhm,” She smiled as she pulled her hair back, trying to gently resist the way Cherry was trying to grab a hold of her braid, “Look, we’re making a cherry pie.” She showed it off, earning a raised eyebrow from the toddler. 

“Huh?” Cherry turned towards him, blue eyes wide like she didn’t understand. He chuckled, kissing her cheek softly. “They’re cherries,” Kim pointed out again, smiling as she held a little smushed one to the toddler’s mouth, “Do you want to try it?” She asked softly. 

“No tanks.” Cherry responded, little nose curling up in disdain. He thought that she made the same face that Kim did when she saw something she didn’t like. 

“It’s really good.” He encouraged softly, knowing she was just as crazy about her sweets as what her mother was. She glanced at him again before she nodded. 

“Mhm,” Cherry thought about it for a second, blue eyes processing the thought before she glanced towards Billy. He smiled as he met her eye, giving her a soft nod to assure her that it was alright, “Otay.” 

“How is it?” He asked her once she had taken a bite, gummying away at the soft cherry in her mouth. 

“Yummy!” She grinned, lips smeared from the red juice as she held her mouth open again. Kim grinned as she scooped up another spoonful before giving her another bite. 

“Addicted to sugar, just like you.” He teased Kim this time, enjoying the grin that formed on her lips. He felt very lucky to have both of them. 

“We just have taste,” Kim played along, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “What should I do with the rest of it?” She asked, her pie nearly bursting with how much filling was inside of it already. He looked at what was left in the jar, feeling like she wouldn’t like to be told to toss it. 

“Mowe!” Cherry clapped her hands together, giggling as she continued to bounce in his arms. He worried that soon she would be too big for him to hold. 

“I think someone wants to eat it all.” He chuckled, watching as Cherry kicked her feet and repeated the word one more time. 

“One more bite,” Kim compromised, “And then you need to have some yummy mushed carrots.” She replied, trying to sound as excited as she could. 

“Would you eat that?” He asked her softly, grinning as he already knew the answer. He never thought that he would have to convince his wife that it was alright to eat healthy things. 

“Of course not,” She said quickly, “But you didn’t want to raise picky eaters.” She pointed out, giving him a little finger wag. He grinned. 

“I think we need to hide some carrots in her pie.” He added to Cherry, making her giggle as she nodded her head along in agreement. Kim’s hazel eyes turned wide this time, looking a little horrified. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I’m sorry if this request is odd but contrasting duos makes me laugh every time. Beelzebub with a sweet, cottage core looking s/o that’s basically a cinnamon roll. Like the other gods are bamboozled to see her on the arm of Beelzebub who has his dark and gloomy appearance with the dangerous work he does. She’s capable of being terrifying with her power but she’d rather be happy with her husband, even if she seems like a airhead (she’s not dumb at all, she’s very smart, she just gets lost in happy thoughts a lot lol)

-Soft humming was heard as your hips swung back and forth to the tune only you could hear, dicing up some more apples and throwing them into the large pot of cinnamon caramel you had prepared earlier, preparing to make canned apple pie filling (I made this last year and it hands down was so delicious, so many of my coworkers ate it straight from the jar, let me know if you want the recipe J).

-The front door opened, and you turned as Beelzebub physically sagged, inhaling deeply as he took in the scent of your baking and hearing you humming.

-He dragged himself into your kitchen and a smile spread across his lips, seeing a small smudge of flour on your cheek, from when you were prepping the pie crusts ahead of time.

-A warm smile spread across your lips as your eyes closed for a moment, “Welcome home!”

-His arms encircled your waist, hugging you from behind and his head rested on the back of your shoulder, a deep sigh of relief leaving him, “Smells good in here.”

-You giggled softly, adding the last of the apples to the boiling sugar mixture before stirring, “They’ll be done soon, and I’ve got one pie for us in the oven already.”

-He nuzzled you, hugging you just a bit tighter, “How’d I get so lucky to get you in my life.” You giggled again, but didn’t answer, as you both knew you were more than happy being together, even if others couldn’t understand how dark and broody Beelzebub got the very definition of a human cinnamon roll.

-One hour later Beelzebub was enjoying his second slice of pie while you were getting the basket of canned pie mix ready to head over to see Persephone and Hades.

-Beelzebub pouted softly, “Do we have to go?” he didn’t like parties or anything with large gatherings, which you understood, while he knew you were a social butterfly, “Just for a bit. Persephone told us that we could come early, before everyone else arrives, so we can sneak out.”

-He sighed deeply, “Thank you~ Persephone!” your giggles were music to his ears before he polished off his pie.

-He took the basket from you and gave you his other arm, not letting you do any heavy lifting since you did all the work making the dessert for Persephone’s autumn party, a celebration for when she returned to Hades for the year, turning it into a massive harvest party where everyone brings yummy treats and parties.

-Hades wasn’t one for parties either, but he always did enjoy celebrating getting his wife back from her mother.

-The massive market of harvested fruits and vegetables as well as baked goods was always a sight for sore eyes and Persephone hugged you close, a bright smile on her lips, “Yes! You always make the best apple pie mix!!”

-Beelzebub and Hades stood off to the side while you wandered the stalls with Persephone, enjoying spiked apple cider, enjoying the moment of quiet before everyone else arrived.

-Later, while you were walking home, Beelzebub carrying your basket you had filled with some veggies, holding onto his arm.

-He smiled down at you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and you beamed up at him, enjoying the soft affection. You didn’t care what anyone else said, Beelzebub was the sweetest man you have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

-The two of you wanted to be together forever.

[donnerpartyofone]

I just saw this poll that was apparently the product of a debate among non-Americans as to whether or not summer camp is real. Americans were supposed to select one of several answers describing how real it actually is and what their direct experience is with it (like "I've been to one" or "I've heard of them but never known anyone who went"), as if to prove their claim. One option suggested it was only for rich people. Never in my life did it occur to me that the reality of summer camp was up for debate, but I also never thought about the economics of it. As a kid I was just glad I didn't have to go; forced-fun is really hard on me still, I hate even friendly competitions because I am literally incompetent, and I couldn't imagine being in a situation where I wouldn't ever be alone for days or weeks at a time. We had to go to band camp, which was just a day thing at school for a month or so, and I'm sure that was a combination of our parents just wanting to get rid of us and also wanting us to have extracurriculars on our record. But it never occurred to me that proper sleepaway summer camp was out of our price range, probably because wealthiness was not part of the cliche of summer camp.

Like, the 1980s was the era of a film subgenre called snobs versus slobs, a prime example of which is the movie MEATBALLS, which pits kids at a working class summer camp against the rich jerks at a much ritzier camp nearby; the stereotypical vision was that summer camp is for everyone, but the rich people versions are less wholesome, farther away from the American-as-apple-pie camp experience god intended. I also recall a Saturday morning cartoon called Camp Candy, in which John Candy was the beloved counselor of an earnest little camp that was under threat from a rich developer--again here, money is the enemy of the salt of the earth, egalitarian decency of summer camp. ERNEST GOES TO CAMP involves scrappy juvenile delinquents at a camp that is antagonized by a greedy strip mining corporation, so money is only a theme insofar as "camp" represents something common and honest that is antithetical to contaminating wealth. The standard summer camp narrative is most often about underdogs trying to save something they love, and not about rich people either finding their souls or getting their comeuppance (unless they're the bad guys who are generally not "real", sincere campers). Personally, my closer cultural connections are with FRIDAY THE 13TH and SLEEPAWAY CAMP, which take place in rural New Jersey; nowhere is there the idea that Jason Voorhees' mom was rich, and although there's evidence of wealth regarding the first family you meet in SLEEPAWAY CAMP, the prevailing image is not of snotty prep school students, but of regular, somewhat coarse suburban kids who don't mind skinning their knees and getting their hands dirty and eating cafeteria slop dished out by a filthy pervert.

I do get the idea (just now, from searching the internet) that summer camp is exorbitantly expensive nowadays due to inflation (and probably escalating greed, just like with everything else), but even though it can involve room and board etc for days or weeks, I never acquired the prejudice that camp in general was only for the upper crust, like I'd assume about ski school or uh sailing lessons or I don't know what. And I mean there's a lot of stuff like that in mainstream media, where e.g. blue collar families have homes and possessions that are WAY too nice, or something like that. It's just something film and TV creators do to make things more inviting and less depressing, I think, and that can skew popular conceptions of how expensive certain things actually are. But I'm looking at a Reddit right now confirming my perception that versions of summer camp were available to middle class Americans in the 1960s-80s, and that the idea that the price tag of it would compete with college tuition is pretty recent. But it's still funny to me how often I see people on here assuming that if they've never personally experienced something, no matter how often they've heard of it, then it's probably not real. That's some protagonist syndrome shit right there. Just because you've seen an artificially enhanced version of something on TV doesn't mean it's a fake idea contrived to make an idiot out of you. You can do that all by yourself.

[bakingtherapy]

Breakfast with Cordelia #35 Apple Pie with Lattice Top

Sul Sul, Gerbits. Today we are going to be making a recipe that I have made for many years. I used to make this recipe with my mom every Harvestfest. I feel like I have this recipe memorized. 

Even to say that I have to have the recipe right next to me. Because I sometimes read the recipe, even though I know it multiple times. Because I don’t want to mess it up, in any way. 

We are going to be making a Betty Crocker Apple Pie, with her pie crust. And both recipes will be in the description down below.

The first thing we are going to do is make our two crusts. 

Measure out your flour and salt, mix them then cut in your shortening with a pastry blender or a fork. 

Add your water 1 tablespoon at a time. Gather the pie crust, and on a lightly floured surface, gather it into a ball. 

Cut the pie crust in half, shaping both of them into balls. Placing plastic wrap over both pie crusts. 

Place them in the freezer until you need them for the recipe. 

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.

The first thing you are going to do is slice your apples. You can slice them thinly or you can dice them thinly. Whichever is easier for you and your family to eat it. Have a bowl of water handy. Place the slices in the water so that they do not brown. Place them aside.

In a large mixing bowl, you are going to mix your dry ingredients. Which includes your sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. 

Next, you are going to add your apples. DO NOT add the water that the apples were bathing in. That was just to help them stay crisp when waiting to be added to the pie. 

Roll out the bottom pie crust and place it in the pan. 

Spoon the apple mixture into the pie crust. 

Cut the butter into small pieces and sprinkle them on top of the apples. This is to give flavor to the apples, and the top crust. 

Now onto the top layer. For this pie, I wanted to experiment with a lattice top. Which was kinda scary for me. So, I wanted to say that I did it. 

To do the lattice top you have to roll out the pie crust as you did with the bottom crust. However, you want to measure out ½ inch strips. 

Getting them straight as you can. Start at one end of the pie pan. And start weaving the lattice top. Once you start, you will understand how it works. 

Don’t be afraid of having to start over. I think I started over 2 or 3 times. But then again, I am kinda a perfectionist when it comes to baking. 

Once you have the top on, brush the top with water and sprinkle some sugar on the top. 

Wow! This was so good. I was so happy with how pretty it turned out. My advice to you is if you have something that you want to do, that is not harming yourself or anyone else, go for it. You never know what you can accomplish when you have a goal in mind. 

I hope you liked this recipe. Feel free to like and subscribe to see more recipes like this one in the future. Vadish, Dag Dag! 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖Betty Crocker

Show the original pie crust, author, some  💖💖💖 Betty Crocker

Printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Printable version of this pie crust recipe: on the blog

Feel free to support me on:

🐥Patreon 🐥 Kofi 🐥 Facebook 🐥 Pinterest 🐥

[txemrn]

The Easter Magic

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson-Ramsey), with special appearances by Alan Ramsey, Louise Ramsey and Cord Ramsey

Word Count: ~2498

Warning: fairly fluffy; smallest sprinkle of angst; a few curses

A/N: Some characters and plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry

A/N 2: I wanted to join in on the Easter fun, so I am participating in two different prompt challenges. This is my submission for @choicesflashfics, where I am using Prompt #3: "I don't know if I want to know the answer, but what are you doing?" I am also submitting this to @aprilchallenge with the following prompts: bunny, Easter eggs, laughter, love, kiss, happy, hug. Thank you for allowing me to participate, and thank you for hosting these events! All prompts will be in bold.

A/N 3: Huge thanks to @sfb123 for helping me figure out the ending. We're going to get you on the OPH bus before you know it! This fic was not beta'd or pre-read. Please excuse my errors.

~🐰~

Turning the ignition off, Tatum looks at her watch. Shit. 9:22PM. She's missed bedtime. Again.

She grabs her shopping bags along with her hospital duffle bag and computer briefcase, and hurries through the garage and to the elevators.

Tatum sneaks into the darkened apartment, padding softly into the kitchen where she begins unpacking her groceries. She pulls out her pie crusts as she places a pot of water to boil on the stove. She sets the temperature to the oven as she pulls out a carton of eggs as well as several packages of fresh cut meats and cheeses for tomorrow's brunch.

As she waits for everything to warm, she retreats to a special walk-in closet under the stairs that stores holiday decorations. She pulls out Cord's Easter basket along with leftover plastic eggs and fake grass from last year's festivities. Spreading out all of her basket and egg hunt supplies on the counter, she notices that her husband did exactly what she had asked: set carrots out with Cord for the Easter Bunny. God, he's the better parent. She would've given anything to have been home, but she couldn't exactly leave in the middle of surgery.

She checks on the stove and oven once more, ensuring that everything is continuing to preheat. She digs in a grocery bag, and grabs a stencil of a bunny paw print, glitter and a bottle of baby powder before heading back to the front door. Climbing on her knees, she presses the shape to the hardwood floor before sprinkling the white particles and glitter across the cutout.

"I don't know if I want to know the answer, but what are you doing?"

Tatum startles, dropping the bottle of powder as dust billows around her in the air. "Ethan," she coughs into a chuckle, waving the clouds out of the way. "You scared me."

He squats down, a smirk on his face. "What is this mess?"

"I am making Easter Bunny footprints," she states as she returns to the project.

"O…kay," Ethan furrows his eyebrows, "why?"

"It's part of the Easter magic, Ethan," she retorts, "apparently, it's not enough that Cord wakes up to a basket full of goodies. We have to make it look like the Easter Bunny actually broke into our home–by the way, can you take a bite out of the carrot you set out?"

Ethan stares out the powdery prints on the ground before glaring at the carrot. "There’s Easter magic now?"

Tatum scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. "Yes, Ethan, I have to create Easter magic now or else I'm a bad mom."

Ethan's eyes widen. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said anything about being a bad mom?"

Tatum sighs, sliding off of her knees and into a sitting position. "No one," she dusts off her hands, "but I'm just sick of the other moms at the school giving me those judgmental looks with their snide comments. Like, I committed an unforgivable sin by having a baby and choosing to work."

"They aren't so bad," Ethan shrugs, relaxing his face nonchalantly. "The other moms are always nice to me–"

"That's because they think you're hot!"

"Oh, you're deranged," Ethan swipes his hand in the air.

"Am I, Ethan?" Tatum scowls. "I went to Cord's field trip to the duck pond, and four moms asked where you were!"

"Oh," he shakes his head grimacing, but then quickly turns back to Tatum. "Which ones were asking about me?"

With a grumble, Tatum squirts white dust in the air towards her husband before charging back into the kitchen.

"Oh c'mon, Tate, I was joking," Ethan chuckles, sauntering cautiously into the kitchen. He gently grabs her elbow, pulling her into his body before enveloping her in his arms. "Hey," he whispers, his lips barely tickling her ear. "You are an extraordinary mom." Tatum looks up at her husband with glassy eyes as he continues. "Those women? They're jealous because… well, hell, you're hot, too," he snickers, his comment making his wife fall into giggles. He kisses her forehead, "they hate that you have it all: the job you love, the adorable son with excellent genes, I might add, and let's not forget–"

"Yeah, yeah," she interrupts sardonically, "the hot husband." Tatum catches Ethan's lips with hers as she slips her arms around his waist. She relaxes her head against his chest as he continues to pepper her hair with kisses, falling into a comfortable silence.  "I just want him to have a happy childhood," Tatum admits softly.

"You don't think he does?"

"I'm scared I'm screwing him up," her voice starts to tremble before she clears her throat. "I just love him so much. Will he look back and remember 'Mom made everything special,'  or will he remember that his mom chose to work, that his mom wasn't there for bedtime, or that I didn't buy him microgreens–"

"Wait," Ethan interrupts, pulling back and giving a curious glare at his wife. "Microgreens?"

"Yes, your son asked me for 'microgreens' because Hayleigh Grayce's mom," Tatum singsongs the name obnoxiously, "told him that if he ate those rather than his goldfish crackers, he'd get taller and stronger."

"Are you fucking kidding me? That woman's got a lot of nerve," Ethan fumes. "Besides, he loves goldfish–"

"Not anymore," Tatum rolls her eyes. 

"Did you get him the microgreens?"

"He's four!" She sasses, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm happy when he even tastes something green and doesn't spit it out!" 

The couple falls into laughter as an alarm on the oven chirps, notifying them that the appliance has been preheated.

"Is this for tomorrow?" Ethan surveys the prep work Tatum has started on the counter.

"Mhmm," she hums, cracking eggs in a bowl before whipping them. "Don't forget; your dad's picking up Louise, and they'll be here around 9."

"Speaking of shitty parents," Ethan jokes, Tatum playfully slapping his arm. He chuckles, shielding himself; but then his eyebrows raise. "And you see? Even if you are a terrible parent, there's always hope for later life."

An unnerving frown etches on Tatum's features. Ethan draws closer to her, planting his mouth against her neck. "Hey," he kisses the sensitive skin again, "you are doing a remarkable job with our son."

Tatum's eyes meet Ethan's crystal pools. "Thank you, baby," she croons, slipping her hands around his neck for one last hug.

"So," Ethan claps, "what's left to do for this Easter Magic stuff?"

Ethan and Tatum finished prepping for the family brunch. They made the 'Easter bunny' paw prints, and left the carrots out with visible teeth marks for Cord to find. 

They started stuffing Easter eggs when Ethan noticed Tatum's energy waning. She had been at work since 7AM post holiday call, and now it was close to midnight. He insisted they both head to bed, that they could finish the egg-stuffing--and hiding--in the morning. Before she could even tuck herself in, Tatum was out like a light.

—

With boisterous laughter echoing through the master bedroom, Tatum's eyes anxiously pop open, instantly greeted with the bright light of the morning sun. She sits up, rubbing her eyes briskly with her fingertips. "Ethan?" She calls out, reaching for her discarded watch. 9:28AM. Shit. She overslept. She jumps out of bed, grabs her robe and hurries out the door.

Why didn't Ethan wake her up? He knew how important this morning was to–

"Mommy!"

"Oof!" Cord instantly crashes into his mom, throwing his arms around her legs. "Morning, baby," she chuckles, squatting down to take him in her arms. She nuzzles her nose into his blond hair, rubbing circles on his back.

"He came!"

Tatum pulls back from her embrace. "Who came?"

"The Easter Bunny!" Cord grabs her hand, eagerly pulling for his mom to follow. "C'mon! I'll show you!" They scurry to the front door area, Tatum pinning her robe closed with her free fingers. "Look, Mommy!" He giggles jumping onto his knees. "Footprints!"

"Wow!" Tatum acts surprised, relishing in her son's excitement.

"Did you show Mommy the carrots?"

Tatum twirls around to find Ethan leaning against the entryway. She stands up, but her husband already has his hands on her, pulling her snug into his embrace.

"Morning, baby," he purrs.

"Morning--uh… why didn't you wake–?"

"Shhh," Ethan sweetly hushes her, his lips meeting hers briefly once, then twice. "Because part of being a good mother is knowing when to take care of yourself." He tucks her under his jaw, his fingers combing into her tangled waves. "You're exhausted," he inhales deeply the floral notes in her hair, exhaling a soft moan. "And you looked so peaceful laying there."

Tatum jerks up. "I was snoring, wasn't I?"

Ethan boasts a guilty grin. "And drooling." He chuckles, hugging her again, running his warm hands up and down her sides. "But don't you worry. Everything is taken care of."

Tatum lets go, eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you mean? I have a casserole to bake and the eggs need–"

"Taken care of," he bares his teeth in a bright white smile.

"But… but how?"

"Easter Magic," he nonchalantly winks.

"C'mon," an older voice playfully chides, "let's show your mama."  Bounding into the room was Ethan's father Alan, carrying Cord on his back.

"Happy Easter, Alan," Tatum giggles, giving her father-in-law a kiss on the cheek before inspecting the remnants of a carrot in Cord's hand. 

"See, Mommy? The Easter Bunny came!" The little boy squeals with glee.

Tatum bites her lip, cupping her hand around her son's head. "Looks like he was really hungry!"

"And I got a basket with books and colors and–and books!"

"You did?" Tatum claps her hands. "Tell you what. Go pick out one book from your basket, and we can read it after we eat, okay?"

Cord nods excitedly as he slips down his grandpa's back, running full force to the living room to rummage through his Easter treasures.

With a twinkle in her eye Tatum looks back and forth between Ethan and Alan. "I… but how…?"

Alan gives his daughter-in-law an endearing side hug. "You already did all of the prep work, sweetheart.”

“It’s true,” Ethan nods. "There wasn’t much more to do; I finished Cord’s basket and got him ready while Mom and Dad stuffed the eggs."

"Wait," Tatum holds up her arms, "where is Louise?"

"She's finishing up in the kitchen," Alan grins, nodding through the dining area. 

Tatum turns on her heel, ensuring her robe is completely closed as she fidgets with her unkempt hair, pushing strands behind her ears. As she enters the kitchen, she watches as a thin, older woman pulls out a casserole dish of cinnamon buns.

"Louise?"

Setting down the pan, Ethan's mother carefully cranes her neck, her expression warming when she sees Tatum. "Good morning, dear. I–I hope you don't mind me. I, uh…" she motions to the kitchen and the dining room. "I didn't mean to overstep."

"Are you kidding me?" Tatum quickly bridges the gap, throwing her arms around Louise, tucking the older woman tightly into her arms.  "Thank you so much, Lou," she softly hums, tightening her embrace. "You didn't overstep at all."

The older woman wraps her arms around Tatum, cherishing the hug from her daughter-in-law. "I guess, I'm just… I don't know, I'm–"

Tatum pulls back, taking her by the hand. "Making up for lost time."

She nods, becoming more serious in her demeanor.  "I wasn't always… a bad mother, you know–"

"Louise," Tatum takes her back in her arms. "What matters is now," she grins endearingly, "and you just gave my son a happy Easter."

Louise's eyes sparkle, peering up at Tatum.  "It really was fun," she giggles, wiping at her tears. "But that sweet little boy? You and Ethan are doing an incredible job."

"Thanks, Lou," Tatum gently pats her arm, "that means more to me than you realize."

The women grab the various dishes and serving utensils and finish setting the table for Easter brunch.  Tatum begins to fill the water glasses with ice.  "Lou, did you ever have that overwhelming sense that no matter how hard you try, you're bound to royally screw up your baby?"

Louise chuckles to herself, "Only every single moment of everyday. It consumed me… but," she grins poignantly,  "this is what I know now. Childhood is already a magical time; they're learning and experiencing things for the very first time that you and I, well, we take for granted," Louise puts an endearing hand on Tatum's arm. "They need love. That's what they remember."

"G'andma!" Cord calls out from behind the women. "Can I show Mommy what we made?"

"You made something?" Tatum curiously looks at Louise, giving her a playful wink. 

"Sure, sweetie. Make sure it's dry, and you can show your mom." The women exchange grins as Cord runs to another room. "I hope you don't mind. I brought over an egg dyeing kit."

"No, that's perfect–" Tatum is interrupted with Cord tapping her hip as he proudly holds out the colored egg.

"Look, Mommy!' He smiles proudly. "I made it for you, but--but G'andma helped me."

"Oh, Cord," Tatum gasps, her face expressive. "This is beautiful, baby!" She picks up the egg, appreciating the blue and purple watercolors, but when she turns it around, she notices writing from a white crayon that spells out the phrase Best Mom.

Tatum never thought in a million years she'd be that mom, getting choked up by cheesy clichés of being the 'best mom' or 'world's best mom', but in this moment, she gets it. She understands why mothers everywhere are so touched by being hailed for something so pompous.

Motherhood is damn hard. No one knows what the hell they're doing, and each mom, even the ones teaching their children to eat microgreens instead of goldfish crackers, think they're doing a terrible job.

But seeing that smile on Cord's face, seeing so much light and wonder in his crystal blue eyes, maybe Louise is right. And Cord is one deeply loved little boy.

Tatum pulls Cord into her arms, saddling him on her hip as she kisses his cheeks. "Thank you so much, baby. I love it." With a blush swirling on his cheeks, the young boy smiles brightly, coyly laying his head on his mom's shoulder.

"Hey," Ethan saunters up next to his wife, brushing his hand against her lower back. "Are we just about ready to–whoa!" His eyes widen. "The table… the food and the–and the decorations…"

"Do you like it?"

"Tate," his voice is low and breathless, his eyes darting across the table spread. "This really is, well, magical." 

She beams as a rosy hue paints her face. "I guess you're now a believer in the Easter magic?" She titters.

"I am, and… I guess I have been for a long time." Tatum gives him a curious glance as he pulls her into a heated kiss. "I'm looking at the magic right now."

~🐰~

Tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @bisexualdisasteracd @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

~🐰~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🐰~

[restlesscrybaby]

HULLLOOO...

SO UHM.

As a Florida resident. I thought it was be mandatory for me to write Jack at the beach headcanons.

Summer come quick!

~ JACK HORNER AT THE BEACH HEADCANONS. ~

~ DW. There's, absolutely, some based around you and him ~

~ CONTENT WARNING : NSFW THEMES. ~

The smell of the ocean whispered through the air, the sounds of upbeat music whirled through the wind, the sight of so many shops, so much to do, so much to see.

Oh my god.

He had to get to his hotel early.

Yes.

The Bakers Dozen just had to bring his stuff to his room.

Do they get their own?

Yeah.

Did he pay for them?

Probably not.

Of course, him being the special hot-shot business man he is, he has others to unpack his bags. He orders them to put things where he wants them. It has to be perfect and he doesn't have to do it.

Oh my god.

Did he have to get the most perfect suite.

Just the right size, the perfect decor. It was large enough for you two. Well, mainly him. But! It had a large bedroom, a perfect king sized bed for the two of you, maybe even bigger than a king! The curtains were rippled with seashells, it had it all! Hell, he even got the best balcony. The gorgeous view, allowing you to step out upon the cold concrete and watch the waves gently crash against the shore, only to pull back in to do its favorite routine once more.

Oh my god his swimsuit. He definitely wears a purple Hawaiian shirt too. He definitely wears those perfect swim shorts, with some purple little pie crust design like his vest. When you first seen him in it, you couldn't help but gush.

First day!

Woop! You guys wake up. Time for the beach!

He packs a bag, probably the bottomless bag that poor ole Mary Poppins had. He slides in sunscreen, towels, wallets, maybe even an entire cooler in the bag! He shoves snacks and even extra clothes to put on over your swimsuits. What a useful little tool.

You were getting ready, sliding on your swimsuit while standing on the cold floor of the bathroom. The vanity lights shined bright in your face, like you were some kind of star. It allowed you to take in every last detail of yourself.

Once you stepped out, his head turned to look at you, his eyes softening. He slowly panned his vision down, practically slurping the very view of your tasty frame in that swimsuit.. Ohh.. He was insatiable. But, he'd focus on that later.

( MALE READER !! ) -- Once you stepped out, his head turned to look at you, his eyes softening. He slowly panned his vision down, practically slurping the very view of your taste frame in those swim boxers.. Ohh.. He was insatiable. But, he'd focus on that later.

You had your sandals on, so you could easily walk around with him. So many plans for the day, yet the day seemed so short! Gaaah! What to do!! You hugged onto his arm, as his spare arm held the bag. And off you guys went!

You already know he's putting sunscreen on you.

As long as you put it on him first.

Maybe going to the pool first is a good start!

You already know he's in, with his elbows resting on the pool sidelines, his arms hanging off into the water while he leans his head back.

So majestic. You, at first, kinda giggled at it. You had gotten a little pie shaped tube, but you only relaxed in it for a bit.

You'd rather swim.

You definitely messed with him.

"Jack!" You chirped out, a cheery tone melting off your voice. You were only a foot away from him, as his head lifted up. His eyes opened, probably for the first time since he was relaxed.

A brow raised, he blinked quickly, probably pissed off you disrupted his peaceful relaxation.

You kept your hand under the water but lifted it up, at a quick speed. You pushed the water towards him. It caused it to splash all over him, even in his face.

He let out a snarl, but more playfully, as you tried to swim away.

But his large hand already grabbed you and pulled you towards him, as he leaned over his shoulder and snickered.

"Don't splash me again." He spoke, you couldn't decipher if he was being harsh or if he was being playful. But, he pushed you away, as you looked back at him to flash a smile.

Soon, you guys got out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, as you wrapped yours around yourself.

Soon, you traveled away from the pool, stepping down the slippery stairs that led to the beach, chatting your life away with him.

You guys set up quicker than ever, hell, seems he even packed a damn umbrella! He wrapped a large fist around the handle and he slammed it into the sand, hearing the crunch under it.

Yay! You set up towels to lay down upon, as you both sat down beside eachother!

Don't forget he brought the cooler!!...

...

Oh shoot. He must've brought drinks.

Gotta know where this is going.

Getting too tipsy off some of the alcohol you both consumed, it wasn't long before you both were ready to touch and feel.

A stumbling mess of sloppy kisses, saliva sharing saliva, fondling upon fondling, need upon need.

Woo...

What a long night that was.. ( if yall want detail lemme know I'll make another of detail of this :).. )

But day two rolled around.

Blegghh.. Alcohol. You both weren't drunk, but just tipsy, so thank God you guys were still ready for the next day.

This time, it was time to enjoy the shops and even the boardwalk!

You both got dressed, as you slid on a tank top, one with spaghetti straps, the purple color hinting to who's lover you were. Well, more of the pie crust design pointed to who you loved with all your heart. You slipped on some shorts, ones that had some tangles at the leg holes, some strings that dangled loosely. You only wore flip-flops, or sandals, whichever seems even better to you!! You grabbed your wallet and you slipped it in your back pocket, easily sliding some sunglasses in the neck line of your top.

He was easier. He slipped on, once more, another Hawaiian shirt. This time, he buttoned it up, it had bakers rolling pins on the shirt. He slipped on some new boxers, that hid him just good enough to slide on some shorts. They weren't short, but were just long enough. You already know he's gotta be in some kind of flip flops, duh! But, he grabs some sunglasses, as his large fingers slide them on the tip of his nose. He grabbed his bag, that held more money than you could think and he waited to meet you in the living room.

Of course, you guys were finally ready.

You thought you guys should walk. He had other ideas. So, instead, he uses the carriage to get around the beach town to visit all the shops.

Shops. Upon shops.

You could buy whatever you wanted, but he always had that sour little pursed lips look on his face. Not like he was mad. Probably because he felt like you weren't paying too much attention to him.

He's more of there as a watcher, maybe even like a bodyguard boyfriend. Of course, he buys some stuff. But he prefers you liking it.

Oh, lucky..

The boardwalk.

Off on one of the extra sections of the boardwalk, sat a large boat. It was a restaurant, one he planned to visit with you after all your shopping and game-playing here.

Oh god forbid you didn't win the prize you wanted from the game.

He's already pulling a Gru. Using some kind of weapon or some junk to get what you want, but who cares! You won that cute little prize you wanted!!

And he always had a smug grin about it.

The shopping was the same as the regular shops, nothing too special until dinner rolled around.

You hooked back onto his arm. As you walked alongside him, his large footsteps shaking the ground beneath him as he walked proudly with you attached to him like a leech. It was a fancy restaurant, he couldn't help but pamper you.

When you guys sit and order, he makes sure to keep you safe right by his side.

When you guys get food, God forbid its wrong.

Thats a scene awaiting to start.

"Excuse me?" He snapped, his purple thumb clacking against his middle and pointer finger towards the waiter. You grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, knowing you should've just eaten the food you were given.

.

"Jack, no, no, it's fine-" You sputtered out, but his head snapped to gaze upon you. He scowled, a harsh hiss escaping from his lips.

"It's not fine! They messed it up," He snapped his head back, his brows lowering in anger and frustration. Don't they know any better. "EXCUSE ME?" He hissed loudly, as the waiter came over. They looked so sick and tired of his shit, as they asked what was wrong

"You messed up their order." He grabbed the plate with the hand he had been snapping at them at, as he shoved it towards their chest. "Fix it." He demanded, as the waiter sighed and took the plate, spilling a pitiful 'yes, sir' and stammering off.

God forbid he just try to feel sympathy..

Luckily, you guys ate and got out of there quick.. no more Jack harassing employees.

But we did get a Jack relaxing now, as though he did so much throughout the day.

He rested upon the couch, his head leaned back against the cushion of the sofa that sank under his weight. His feet propped up, the little sofa sinking under the weight of his legs. He had a blanket, or what seemed like two, scattered upon him.

You slipped out the shower, hearing his loud aching snores that you had long gotten used too. And you couldn't help that, once you slipped in some comfy pajamas, to lay down beside him. You curled into a ball, as you took one of his blankets and covered yourself with it. And you slipped under his arm so he'd be holding you.

But, you felt his large hand easily grab ahold of your shoulder gently. So gently. He stirred quietly, a small mutter escaping from between his teeth, in that tired husky tone.

"We've got.. A lot to do tomorrow, godI'msotired, so don't sleep in.." He spoke, but you could tell by the harsh points at the tip of his words, he was trying to he stern.

Yeah.

He was probably gonna sleep in anyway.

Day three, headed along the way...

Maybe now he'd take you to walk around instead of riding in a stuck up carriage.

Probably not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

AAAH me when my headcanons are just a story kind :OOOOOO

Please enjoy these :O))

But if yall want I can write the rest of these :3c

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Day 10: Going to an orchard to pick some lovely crispy apples, perfect for Autumn treats.

“Hnnngh!” Tippy tries to reach for an apple to put in his basket. “Almost… got it…!” Suddenly he is boosted up and able to reach, “Whoa! Heheh, thank you, Vanilla.”

“Absolutely, honey bun.” Vanilla chuckles, holding Tippy by the hips. Vanilla gently sets him down and pats his head. Bel tosses an apple up and down in their hand and looks at it, shines it on their shirt and looks in the reflection,

“Absolute perfection.” 

Vanilla and Tippy walk over to Bel, holding their baskets. Bel tosses his apple into his basket,

“All in a day’s work!”

Tippy looks into xis basket,

“Uh… you only got one apple in there, wibny.”

“So?” Bel checks xis nails. Vanilla playfully bonks xim on the head,

“So…We might not have enough to make some cinnamon apple treats, dear.” 

“Well, what if I just want one?” Bel teases. Vanilla raises an eyebrow at them and crosses his arms.

“Oh alright,” Bel throws up his hands in an exaggerated way, “I guess I’ll go get some more.” Bel picks up Tippy,

“Wha- hey!” 

“I’ll be using this little creature to do all the work for me.” Bel holds Tippy up into a tree.

“There are leaves in my freaking sweater!” Tippy calls down to his partners.

“Go get me some apples, apple getter!” Bel grins. Vanilla sighs, face palms, and shakes his head. Tippy is pushed up further into the tree by Bel. He’s brought back down and holding armfuls of apples and one in his mouth,

“Mmmf mmm hmm?”

“Perfect!” Bel drops Tippy and claps xis hands.

“WAUGH- oof!” Tippy falls to the ground, making leaves fly up. Bel looks wide eyed,

“Sorry…” He guiltily grins and chuckles at Vanilla

Back at home

Vanilla, Tippy, and Bel all walk through the front door holding their baskets of apples. They all set them down on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Vanilla sighs happily,

"Okay, now let's go ahead and make some little treats."

"Let's try to make some cinnamon apple pie tarts! Those are always so good." Tippy tells his boyfriends. Bel giggles,

"Should I make some hot chocolate while you two do the baking?"

Vanilla gently tugs them on the back of their shirt and pulls them close,

"Oh no no no, don't think you're going to get out of helping us again, Mister." Bel blushes a bit,

"My my, you were always the commanding type, Nilla." They giggle at him. Tippy chimes in also giggling,

"Vans is always so bossy!"

"Yeah, and I command you both to give me some sugar." Vanilla smirks. He leans down and gives Tippy a tender kiss on the lips, then leans in to give Bel a kiss on the lips as well. Tippy grabs the sugar container,

"Or did you mean this?" 

Vanilla takes it,

"That too, sweetie pie. Alright, let's get to baking."

The three lovebirds begin cutting up the apples, making the tart crust, and fixing the filling. After a while, the tarts are in the oven and the three are covered in flour and cinnamon. Tippy licks the apple filling off of the spatula. Vanilla dusts off his apron a little bit. Bel picks out some flour from under his nails. Tippy looks up,

"Bel, you have flour on your nose!"

"What?" Bel becomes cross eyed trying to look at xis own nose. Vanilla laughs and Bel puts xis hands on xis hips,

"Hmph. Oh yeah?" Bel takes a pinch of flour and flicks it in Vanilla's face, making him squint. Tippy bursts out laughing. Vanilla sputters and a little cloud of flour comes off his lips. He looks down at Tippy,

"Oh you think that's funny, Termite?" He gets a mischievous grin on his face. Tippy gasps, then Vanilla flicks some flour onto Tippy's face.

"Pleh! Oh, you're gonna get it, Lucky Charms!" Tippy laughs and flicks more flour at Vanilla. Bel playfully pouts,

"Aww, I want a silly nickname."

Vanilla looks over at him,

"Hmm… you probably wouldn't want the names I used to call you behind your back." Bel puts his hands on his hips,

"Uch!"

Tippy holds onto Bel's arm,

"How about Bels and Whistles?"

"What? No way!" Bel pouts. Vanilla holds onto his other arm,

"How about Prince Glitterpants?"

"Ugh, now you guys are just making fun of me." Bel huffs. "I only wore those pants once and you never let me hear the end of it, Leotard Boy."

"Yeah, well, you just hush." Vanilla kisses Bel's cheek. Tippy nuzzles xis arm, then wraps it around himself. Bel sighs,

"You both are like, total jerks, but I love you anyway."

"Hmhm, we love you too, Glitter Boy.” Vanilla teases them and kisses their nose. Bel pouts but kisses Vanilla back. 

Soon the apple pie tarts are finished, and the three gentlemen happily munch on them while sitting on the couch watching Halloween movies

The End

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 8, Part 5

Harvey, Kayleigh and Carson take dinner to Reece and Samir. Carson has his first lot of exams and takes a trip with Kayleigh.

Harvey: Did you avoid detention today

Carson: Yeah dad, that’s why I’m home already

Harvey: Very good. Now we don’t have much time so do anything you need to do quickly

Carson: What do you mean

Harvey: Keira and Marta will be having the house for a few hours tonight

Carson: And we will be…

Harvey: Oh, you know… visiting Reece for dinner

Carson: Dad what? No

Harvey: I’m making a meat pie especially. Reece says Samir likes meat

Carson: Why couldn’t we go to Charlie’s instead

Harvey: Your mum wants to check on if they’ve used the money we gave them for Reece’s birthday

Carson: Well I hope you enjoy watching me die of boredom and irritation

Harvey: Carson please try to remember it’s your brother’s house, it’s not wise to pick fights in another person’s home

Kayleigh: Is the pie all done

Harvey: Almost, I just want to get the crust perfect

Carson: Mum I don’t want to go

Kayleigh: Carson in life there are things we may not want to do, but we should do. This is one

Carson: *sighs dramatically*

Kayleigh: Oh honey these counters look great, and I’m so glad you got an oven

Reece: Yeah it took a bit of connecting but it seems to be working now

Carson: *sarcastically* Yipee for you

Samir: *through food* Don't be rude

Reece: It’s alright Samir, you know Carson can’t help being an annoying git

Kayleigh: Reece-

Carson: No don’t stop him mum. Lets hear more about how I’m failing in my life compared to the shining example he’s setting running away to a cabin in the woods

Reece: I haven’t run away from anything

Carson: Yes because you’re knee deep in university work befitting your “genius”

Samir: *growls then fake coughs*

Reece: For your information I have applied to universities and I’m waiting to hear back

Carson: I bet you don’t even have a recycling bin

Reece: No Carson, we don't have a recycling bin. We like to burn our trash, letting large clouds of pollution out into the woods I’ve run away to

Carson: Did that just to spite my asthma did you

Reece: I didn’t even know you had asthma

Harvey: Boys! We should switch topics

Reece: Yes, lets. I would love to hear how you both knew to buy Samir a violin for my birthday

Kayleigh: Carson heard him telling you about it

Reece: I knew it!

Kayleigh: What do you mean honey

Reece: Samir and I have only talked about him playing the violin when he was a kid when we were out of the house on a date

Samir: *through food* It’s true

Reece: So, Carson, you could only have known from reading my diary

Carson: Thought all that up by yourself did you? Wow, guess you really are a genius

Samir: *growls*

Carson: The hell

Samir: *fake coughs* bad throat

With Carson feeling ashamed at being caught reading Reece’s diary again he stays quiet for the rest of the meal which goes much more smoothly.

With dinner finished Reece blows Samir a kiss as he heads off to relax in a bath where he doesn’t have to talk to anyone.

Reece: So you have asthma

Carson: Yes, go ahead and laugh

Reece: Bro I wouldn’t make fun of you for something you’re born with, that’s just rude. Like have I ever made fun of you needing glasses

Carson: Well no

Reece: Exactly! Now come give me a hug you budget pirate. And in all sincerity maybe try therapy for your angry obsession with me

Carson: I am NOT obsessed

Carson: Do you think I need therapy

Keira: I think we all need therapy

Carson: I’m being serious

Keira: I don’t know what goes on in your head

The next day dawns and Kayleigh, having reached 60, is starting to show some grey.

Kayleigh: Goodbye completely brunette hair, I shall miss you

Harvey: I think the silver roots are nice

Kayleigh: Guess I better switch up my wardrobe so I don’t wear short shorts anymore

Harvey: I vote for short shorts at any age

Kayleigh: I just really like my thigh tattoo, I don’t want it covered all the time

Keira: You okay dad

Harvey: Not really, I’ve got sweaty shivers

Keira: Take the day of work then

Harvey: Maybe I should

Carson heads downstairs. He couldn’t get to sleep last night, worrying about what Reece had said. He certainly wasn’t obsessed with Reece but sometimes he felt a bit… different. He’s a recycle disciple, he wants to search through trash but… lately he has felt the need to wash extra thoroughly afterwards.

Carson: Hey dad

Harvey: *groggily* yes sir

Carson: Maybe I should go to a psychiatrist or something

Harvey: Hmm. It’s not that I don’t want to have this conversation, it’s that the room is spinning… I’m sure mum can take you after school if you want though

As soon as Carson gets to school he’s hit with a coughing fit thanks to his asthma. It’s not an attack but certainly leaves him feeling worse.

Angel: Hey Carson wait up

Carson: Can’t talk. Heading to gym

Angel: But you almost coughed up a lung back there

Carson: No I didn’t

Carson is full of confidence when he gets to the gym area and runs with his chest out on the treadmill for a while.

With one before school duty done he decides to take the workout machine for a spin.

William: What are you doing

Carson: *puffing* working out

William: Angel said your asthma was acting up

Carson: My asthma doesn’t act up, I make sure. I’m fine now

William: Well you’d better hurry up. Exams start soon and I’m sure my older brother won’t have managed to screw with the printing of two sets of exams in a row

Carson: Right I just need a shower first

Mrs T: Come in everyone. Please take your seats, we will begin soon

Onyx: Can we end soon as well

Darwin: I know! I totally forgot Fridays were exam day

Mrs T: You will all have one hour to write down your answers. Remember, if you don’t know an answer, you can always skip it and return to it once you’ve reached the end

Darwin: Can I skip the whole thing

Mrs T: No Darwin, you can’t. Although if you’d like Mr Amarinth to observe another of our classes to make sure we’re learning feel free

The whole class groans in response.

Paola: Don’t you dare Darwin, I’m this close to getting a detention from that guy

Darwin: Suits me

Amie: Don’t be an idiot, just shut up and do your paper

Mrs T: We will begin when the second hand reaches the 12

Carson did his best to write some answers but still being new to the subjects made him uneasy. He found himself tapping his pencil so often that his paper ended up resembling a dalmatian with 101 spots.

Darwin: You all right dude? Your paper was a mess

Carson: How would you know

Darwin: You were the only person in front of me

Carson: So you looked at my paper

Darwin: I would have studied but I forgot exams were Fridays

Carson: I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine

William: You seem stressed though

Carson: Have you seen Onyx

William: Yeah I think they headed to the next exam room already

...

Carson: What are you doing in here

Onyx: Hoping to learn by osmosis before the exam starts. Mother is not pleased at me getting that detention. I just want a horse man

For the afternoon exam Mrs Tinker puts her headphones on so the students take the opportunity to whisper quietly as they make their way through the paper.

Carson: You don’t think it’s too weird do you

Onyx: Nah. If you think you’ve got an issue it’s surely better to get it checked on sooner rather than later or you’ll end up a twisted adult

Carson: Thank you, I think

Onyx: Anytime mate

Darwin: Amie move your shoulder

Amie: Do your own work

Mrs T: *still wearing headphones* 1 minute left

William: Wait did she even do the 10-minute call or did I miss it

Onyx: Oh hey Carson, we should all get dinner tonight after your appointment

Carson: Yeah… after my appointment

Onyx: I’ll be thinking of you buddy

Before Carson heads home he returns some books to the school library and grabs some new ones.

William: Carson!

Carson: Hmm?

William: Don’t worry about the appointment, you’ll be great

Carson: Thanks mate

Kayleigh: Just remember honey, the most important thing here is to be honest

Carson: Uh huh

Kayleigh: Come sit. Even if you think it’ll upset me or your dad, you tell them okay

Carson: I will try mum

Kayleigh: At least this place seems nice right

Carson: Yeah I guess

Kayleigh: I must ask who did that mural, it’s wonderful

Carson: Yeah

?: Carson Foster?

Carson: Yes

Dr H: I’m Dr Xander Hanks, I’m the psychiatrist here. It’s nice to meet you

Carson: Yeah. Nice to… meet you

Dr H: And I see you’ve brought a support person today

Carson: It’s my mum

Kayleigh: I’m Kayleigh Foster

Dr H: A pleasure. If you’ll follow me we can sit down and get introduced properly

Dr H: Let me tell you a bit about myself. Following medical school I did my first internship at Britechester's main hospital. After that I completed my training as a psychiatric resident at the hospital in Magnolia Promenade. My specialisation is adolescent health. However I have treated younger patients and continued to see some of the older teen patients until they’re ready for discharge

Carson: That’s… nice?

Dr H: So Carson, want to tell me my why you’ve come to see me today

Carson: I don’t really know

Dr H: That’s okay. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?

Carson: Well I’m 14. Ahhh… I guess I care about the environment, I like art and archaeology. I don’t really know what else

Dr H: How about your family? Can you tell me a bit about them? Your mother is obviously well known

Carson: *chuckles* yes, best artist around

Kayleigh: I dabble

Carson: Then there’s dad, he’s a fisherman and a great cook

Dr H: Do you cook with him

Carson: Not really but we would go fishing together sometimes when I was a kid

Dr H: And how about siblings or pets

Carson: I’m the youngest of four. My oldest sister Charlie is a pro soccer player, she lives in Mt Komorebi now with her wife Kaori who is getting well known for snowboarding

Dr H: Kaori Nishidake? I have heard of her

Carson: Yeah she’s pretty great at it. Then there’s Keira who just finished her biology degree. She and her fiancé Marta are staying with us at the moment but they’ll be moving to San Sequoia so Keira can get a job at the Marine Life Institute

Dr H: Any others

Carson: *sighs* well yeah there’s Reece my older brother

Dr H: Why did you sigh just now

Carson: Me and Reece… we don’t get on

Dr H: How much older is he than you

Kayleigh: He’s just turned 19 so five years difference

Dr H: Have you always had disagreements or is this a recent change

Carson: I don’t really remember

Kayleigh: They did argue a lot over the years. It’s not been a recent fall out or anything

Dr H: And how about pets? Do you have any

Carson: *laughs* No which is good because I found out I have asthma

Dr H: Oh? When did they figure that out

Carson: When I turned 13

Dr H: And how are you coping with that diagnosis

Carson:…

Previous ... Next

[the-chubby-berry]

(Got started writing this forever ago featuring one of @encouraging-growth's characters again along with a small little mention of @theplumpprincedamien at the beginning. Also Happy Birthday EG ya lovely bastard of a human being)

Missy Berry worked around her cafe kitchen early in the morning, impish thoughts swirling in her mind as she started to gather and prepare ingredients for a special treat. Citrus fruits zested, butter folded, mixed with flour, and some of the zest together into a delicate pie crust. Rich chocolate melted and mixed with sweet cherry juice and whipped cream to make a decadent filling for the pie. As it comes together, she ready the berry bean to open and her cats start to come out to greet and rub up against the guests that were soon to file in and gorge themselves on the witch’s treats. She hid the pie she made that morn as it was for someone special. She worked and worked throughout the day. After a bit, the filling of the pie she had made had set and she started to make a fluffy whipped topping, mixed with more of the tart juice and the zest. While making the final touches on the irresistible treat, its intended receiver had arrived to the cafe. She recognized the suited man anywhere, his sapphire eyes always seeming to have a spark of passion, gleaming with a hint of lust and flamboyance. “Sir Adam Pose! Nice to see you again!” She got out from behind the counter and gave him a big hug. “How long has it been, hmm? I know I have an appointment with you tomorrow but still quite pleasant to see the tailor of Supple Row in my cafe.” Adam chuckled “Just wanted to come by and see how the business was going. You're looking quite a bit bigger than the last time I saw you, Missy. Taste testing your own confections and treats on the job again? Naughty girl, i will have to pull out one of my larger measuring tapes tomorrow~” The witchy barista laughed “You're looking a bit more rotund yourself. How many of Master Growth’s feasts have you been going to? Don't think I didn't notice your vest buttons struggling to hold that plush gut of yours. I know certainly it wasn't from dear Prince Damien, I have to close the cafe to the public every time he comes. Cleans out my entire bakery and my supplies. Ah, but he pays well.” “That he does.”

Missy chatted with the dear tailor as she put the final touches on the pie, the whipped topping looking like cherries on top of a chocolate pond. She sprinkled some special luster dust to add a little magic. Adam's curiosity peaked as she did this. “What delectable treat are you making there Missy? Up to your old tricks again? Don't you think I haven't heard about the spike of blueberries around. I heard there was a royally plump one recently. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?~” He inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes showing, knowing well that it was her. Giggling, she confirmed “Yes that was me, but to be fair it was an accident. He looked quite adorable as a blueberry though. If only I could keep him as one. Alas, he has a kingdom to attempt to rule over. As for this pie, this is for you dear compadre, it is a cherry chocolate mousse pie, completely made from scratch. The topping is cherry too with a hint of lime” She places the pie in a box for Adam to take home. “Ooo sounds quite indulgent. I'll have to make sure I savor it. That is, if I can control myself, which we both know is very troublesome nowadays” he snickered. 

Waving goodbye, he headed back to his shop to finish off his day. After closing he let out a big sigh and sat down, his legs tired from squatting and getting up all day to take measurements and sew. He decided that now would be the time to try that delectable pie that Missy made for him. He grabbed a slice of the pie and took a bite from the pie. As soon as the piece landed on his tongue, he was overwhelmed by the burst of flavors. Everything seemed to work together so well, the chocolate cherry filling so rich and practically melting in his mouth. The flaky crust and fluffy whipped topping perfectly complement the filling. Adam practically melted upon tasting the treat made for him. He continued to eat the pie but when he finished the piece he had cut out for himself, he had found the flavor too addicting not to eat the rest. 

As the last few decadent morsels slid down his gullet, he leaned back in the chair he sat in. But as he did so, the buttons on his vest popped off. “Great. This was one of my favorite vests too. Guess I'll have to work on either making a new one or sewing the buttons back on.” As he got himself ready to sleep, he found it difficult to fit into his bedtime garments. Moving around, he noticed that a burbling came from his seemingly larger belly. Though he thought nothing of it. After all he did eat quite a bit today. Just means that he will have to wear his emergency clothing til then.

Waking up in the morning, he found it hard to get out of bed. It felt as if a giant water balloon was strapped to his gut. It sloshed and gurgled as he shuffled around.He attempted to put on his ‘fat clothes’. “Odd these were loose just the other day. I feel bloated and full too. But that shant hold me back from doing my job. Missy should be here in a few minutes.” He slowly maneuvers around avoiding what could now be considered narrow spaces for him. He heard the bell for his door, signaling that someone has arrived. “Hello? Adam its Missy.” “Coming right over” 

As Missy saw Adam, she seemed to be holding back a smile, as if to attempt to keep some sort of secret. As the appointment went on, Adam struggled to even the most basic of functions as it seem that each time his stomach churned and gurgled, it seemed to get a bit… Bigger. Missy pretended to be unaware of the situation. “You seem to be really be blushing dear. You’re face is as red as a cherry~” Adam stumbled upon his words, attempting to stay focused at the task at hand but his increase in size has made even taking simple measurements impossible. His clothes started to tear and rip at the seams, leaving him mostly exposed as his limbs started to slowly sink into his body.

Missy chuckled, “Oh look at you dear. You seem to be having a swell time. I’ve had my eye on turning you into a fruit for a while. Temporarily of course as many still need you. But my, oh my look how juicy you are Sir Pose~” She dug her hands into his swollen belly. “Mmm you still have some… growing to do before you're ready for juicing but I shall take you back to Ambrosia none the less” 

She started to roll him back to what seemed the cat cafe, making sure to grab his tattered clothes.  After saying a unintelligible words, the building transformed. She started to transform as well. Her fair olive skin turned into a deep indigo. “Welcome to the Ambrosia Harem, Sir Adam Pose. I would take you around the place but…” She pushes her hand into him again. It barely goes in. “It would seem that you are nearly ripe for juicing~” She rolls him through the place of lust. Sloshing and gurgling echo throughout the halls mixed with moans as various “fruits” were getting special attention. Soon they entered a massive room, a weird sort of machine in the middle. “Ah here we are. The juicer, guys be careful with this one… he’s special. If i find out that something happened to him. Ill do something to you that would make a demon prince fucking blush.” Had Adam not already been so red, he wouldve been blushing. Instead he opted to hide his face as the workers rolled him gently over to the juicer to get him hooked up.

 While he was getting juiced, he couldnt help but moan in pleasure feeling the juice exit him through any orifice it could escape from due to the increased sensitivity in erogenous zones. Missy or who the workers were calling Momma Berry, murmured praises in his ear, telling him how good he was doing and how well he handled the transformation. They took small breaks evry once and a while so he could catch his breath before starting back up again.

By the end he had passed out from the long process and was taken to a more private room. When he woke up he found himself in Momma’s arms, cuddling him. “Shhhh, relax. You still have a little bit of juice in you but that will come out in time. Just sit back, and relax.”  She rubbed his belly in slow, big circles, coaxing some small burps from him. “I think its time you took a bath. Besides, you deserve it. Working so hard to keep us bigger folk clothed. I hope you liked the transformation.” Adam was still in a sort of dazed bliss. “Ill take that as a yes. Ill make sure my workers get you a nice, big, warm meal too. You are my guest here and ill make sure you are safe and sound. I made sure that some of our staff mended your clothing as well. Not to your quality but it's pretty dang close.” All that Adam could muster was a few soft moans and nods. Momma chuckled, continuing to care for him, having now applied lotion to his engorged gut. “Such a good boy. You were such a good juicy cherry too. Sad I can’t keep you here. You would certainly be a fan favorite. Then again I don't think I would want to share~”

After a bit, Missy sent Adam back on his way to his shop so he could go back to work, but the experience was certainly a fruitful one.

[theink-stainedfolk]

The Tale of The King & His Knight Ch3

The King was not the same,

He approached his Knight as if he were his friend. 

Known is the King for being ruthless,

For all his Knights were slain mercilessly. 

I didn't want to wake up. I drank the poison for the purpose of not waking up.  But I really didn't want to wake up in the Knight's Quarters, and in my Knight's body. I was rethinking my life decisions when suddenly someone just… banged open the door.

"WAKE UP LAZY ASS. YOU'VE GOT AN ASS TO PROTECT. " a very lean man standing in front of my bed, spoke as bread crumbs fell off his mouth. I cringed. Has he no knowledge of etiquette? 

"Stop making a ruckus…Feblone." I sighed, getting up. Thank God I remembered his name. 

"Oh. You've got a surprisingly good memory." He said. I almost forgot his name. "Come on, let's go for a good hot bath!" He said, slapping my back. I almost cussed out loud due to the pain being so sharp. How could Famien withstand this?

I really regret drinking that potion. I shouldn't have gone to the old man. 

In front of me was a large hot bath… filled with men. Naked. I'm used to taking a bath alone, in my large warm tub, scented soap, shampoo and lots of lather. Now I didn't know where to look.

"Are you shy, Big boy?!" Pervez, another Knight smacked my back again as he saw how reluctant I was to strip. "Last time you jumped in as if you didn't care about anyone watching you!" Damn Famien! The least you could do was have a sense of shame! 

"Regrettably, I have recently been experiencing a touch of coldness. I trust my indisposition shall not inconvenience you; should it discompose you, I shall refrain from bathing this day.” I rambled, trying to escape from their clutches.

"What's up with you? " Wearing nothing but a towel around his bottom, Feblone chuckled. "You speak like a monarch."

Well I am a monarch. I laughed nervously, lest my cover get blown. "No, it's not like that…I mean… his highness asked me to-" I was explaining myself before I was interrupted by Feblone's loud laughter.

"Doesn't matter!" He said. "Now jump in before I push ya'!" I immediately removed my clothes and went inside the tub. It was much better than being pushed. I can't witness myself get embarrassed, it doesn't matter if it is not my body that is being laughed at.

"Ohohoho! Of course our King chose the best looking men out of all of us!" Roared Pervez.

Out of nowhere, a competition started; comparing who has the best body out of the few men left in the tub. I wanted to leave but I got caught up in their competition. I didn't intervene in their talks. But suddenly Feblone started complimenting Famien's (now mine) body. Of course, he is extremely well built as he should be. Being the King's Knight requires basic strength. But I didn't know that he is indeed, extremely well built. I thought he was just bluffing when I caught him admiring himself.

"Today, you gotta eat a lot! More than before, 'cuz you have to be tailing that ass!" Feblone laughed. 

I knew that the Knights feared guarding me, but before that I knew that they hated me. Because, unlike my father, I was useless. And I was the only royal that survived the assassination that killed my family. I left my family behind. I left my kind hearted family to save myself. And my family left me in this God forsaken world.

"For real," I said. "Tolerating him requires inhumane strength. That good for nothing monarch of ours." Feblone stopped laughing and looked at me curiously. "What's wrong?"

"You never called him 'good for nothing'. What changed your mind?" He said and I went speechless for a while. Why didn't he refer to me what the whole empire did? What did he think about me? 

Pervez and one more guy that I unfortunately didn't remember brought four plates each filled with Roast venison with a side of wild berries, beef stew with root vegetables, Roast quail with honey glaze, Spiced lamb shank with couscous and for dessert, Pheasant pie with a flaky crust. They then placed the plates in front of me.

"What?-" I began asking but Pervez spoke before. 

"Pal, I know that you usually eat 3 plates," my eyes widened with shock. "But today you gotta eat one extra! Protecting the king, tailing around him for the entire day, and night, we don't know if he'll stop to feed you since he barely stops to fill his stomach too. So eat up and come back alive, I mean it." 

I know that he means well. I also know that I need food to increase my strength, but I Don't think that I'll finish eating before I collapse. I laughed nervously and  I prayed in the name of God and started eating.

I managed to finish 4 plates with the help of Famien's friends.  By the time I took my last bite, the whole cafeteria was chanting 'you can do it Famien!'.

I trudged towards the palace ground where Farnak must've bought him by now. I saw him looking at a flower very closely. Minister Farnak seemed to be taking his leave but he paid him no heed.

"Good Morning….. Your Highness. " I bowed. But just as I said it, Famien (now in my body) whipped his head so hard towards me I almost heard it crack, and also bowed out of reflex. 

In the garden there was not only me and him, but multiple gardeners and knights guarding from distance. My eyes almost bulged out of my socket. I saw Famien sweating profusely. Before he could say any nonsense, I exclaimed. “I apologize to Your Highness and thank you for teaching me the correct way to pay my respects to you, I shall reflect on my behavior and never give you the chance to correct my mistakes ever again.” I spoke quickly so the situation gets clear. The workers, who were confused and shocked, then nodded in agreement and went back to their work.

He looked at me as he got the signal and stood up straight, and cleared his throat. “Very well, I… shall.. overlook? Yes, overlook your mistake since it is your first day. However, I won't be very…. Lineint? The next time.” I bowed once again. As expected, speaking posh words seemed hard for him. I need to give him etiquette classes as soon as possible before he taintes my image further.

“Do you mind joining me for a walk?” He asked as elegantly as possible. I bowed and followed behind him.

“Getting used to your way of life is harder than I thought.” He spoke first as soon as he saw the coast was clear. “Says you.” I scoffed. “I felt like I could burst out by eating 3 plates of heavy food. Do you eat like this on a daily basis?” I asked him genuinely. I feel the need to puke as soon as I eat more than ten bites.

“Yeah, and for your sake, I only ate one plate today. So now you have to do me a favor and sneak me in the kitchen so I can eat more because I am still hungry.” He said. “Why do you only eat porridge in the morning? Are you sick?”

More than sick, I believe, I just wanted to die. The guilt of eating and living better than my family who were left to perish ate me alive every day and night. The look of my servants, who once used to serve my family, gave me when I ate good food made me puke. They must have been thinking that I too should have died, that I shouldn't have been eating deliciously and sleeping peacefully when I left everyone to die.

“Earth to, dear Emperor.” Famien waved his hand in front of my face, pulling me out of my distant thoughts. Startled, I refocused, clearing my mind. "Apologies, I drifted off. What is it?” I asked.

“I asked if you were sick.” He was walking backwards, facing me. “And if you were, I suggest you eat more lean proteins such as grilled fish or roasted chicken for muscle strength, Whole grains like brown rice or quinoa for sustained energy, Dairy products like yogurt or cheese for calcium and probiotics, Green tea for antioxidants and hydration, I hate green tea by the way and my favorite,” he spoke and his eyes sparkled. “Dark chocolate for antioxidants and a touch of indulgence.” He smiled and looked up at the clear sky. “It is such a beautiful day today–” as he said this he almost stumbled and fell on his bottom. Thankfully, I was there to catch him. I caught his hand and pulled him towards me. I don't know if it was his strength in my body or me in his sturdy body, but due to someone's strength he fell on top of me and I almost fractured my hip. I hissed loudly but I felt no pain in my head, thankfully.

“Are you okay Your Highness?!!?” Famien exclaimed, his hand pressed beneath my head, protecting it from the disaster that might have occurred if not for his quick thinking. All the servants and soldiers were shocked and ran to us. “Shut up you dimwit!” I whispered. 

The knights pulled him up and helped him dust his robes. My bottom hurt more than I expected it to. “Come up.” I saw Famien reaching out his hand to me. I looked around. The servants were shocked. Never have they seen me doing this to anyone. I should tell him not to do this next time. 

I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up with little to no difficulty. “Are you okay your- er.. Famien?” He is doing everything I never did. I sighed. “Yes, Your Highness, I'm perfectly fine, I should be the one worried about you. Had you fallen, who knows what might have happened. I'm glad you are okay.” I said and bowed. How many times have I bowed today?

Famien looked around and with a very stern face, said to everyone. “You all may go now. As you can see, everyone is fine. Thank you for your concern." Everyone bowed and resumed their work. He looked at me with concern in his eyes. I never knew I could make a face like that until I saw myself. I guess he has a knack of making many expressions. “I'll send a doctor to your quarter.” He said. I was about to refuse but I realized I could use some help. Because I feel like I won't be able to train the next morning if I didn't take the help. I nodded and continued our walk.

“How was today?” I asked him. “What was hard for you? Tell me so I can guide you.” He avoided eye contact and gulped nervously. I squinted at him. He was being very suspicious.

"Oh, hahahaha! Nothing much.." he nervously scratched his nape. That expression tells me that a lot happened this morning, and that none of it was good.