#jen is cookie jarring again

[georgiapeach30513]

The titties were tittying in that golf shirt! The arms were busting out. The sleeves could not contain the arms! 😍 Love to see it!

Properly fitting, not pleated or loose pants just work for this man. He's got the legs and all the better for the strut. Look at that slutty strut! 🥵

It’s what the people have been asking for Christopher!!! He is looking thick!

[sidekick-hero]

Chapter 6: you feel your heart taking root in your body

Summary:

Steve's alarm goes off at 7 a.m. and is answered by twin groans. They've been taking turns staying at each other's apartments, not wanting to spend a single night apart. It's been three years since he shared his bed with anyone, got used to falling asleep alone, waking up alone. He had been afraid that it would be weird, that maybe he couldn't fall asleep with another body in his bed. That hadn't been the case. Even though they had never shared a bed to just sleep in, they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle; Eddie's nose buried in the fine hairs at the back of Steve's head, his arm draped over Steve's waist, and his hand placed over Steve's heart.

Steve rolls out of bed first, disentangling himself from his boyfriend. His boyfriend. It is so strange and wonderful to be able to call Eddie that now. He's still not used to it, still feels like the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar every time he thinks about it. He smiles dopily as Eddie immediately starfishes in the middle of the bed, his hand mindlessly searching for Steve, groaning again when he realizes he's not there anymore.

Or: There is a date, a barbecue and a special first for Steve.

Thank you to my favorite cookie, my platonic writing soulmate, my partner in crime Jen (@legitcookie) 💜😘 I enjoyed every second, every word we spent writing this and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I can't wait for our big bang and all the other fics we'll be writing together.

Also thank you to my Schwester, the good (and responsible) soul of our discord and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for, Alice (@yournowheregirl) (who also made a whole playlist for this fic I'm still not over that 🥺😭🥰)

Lex (@thefreakandthehair), thank you for cheering us on, reassuring us that we are doing a good job, pre-reading the chapter we were most nervous about, helping out with the playlist and being a good friend 🫶

Last, but not least, thank you to everyone who read along, commented and let us know that they enjoyed what we were doing. It means the world to us and we squeed about it like madwomen.

I wore his jacket for the longest time by @legitcookie and @sidekick-hero

Steve's made a lot of decisions in his life. Some of them good, but lately, they all seem to be on the other end of the spectrum. Eddie had no choice in those decisions, not when his heart won against his head. Until he did.

Or: Steve fucked up, but is trying to be better.

(Picks up where we pass the ghosts that haunt us later leaves off, so make sure to read that one first)

[cherryfinolahobbes]

"Cherry.... Cher... Cherry! For the love of. Stop running around with... No."

She would go mad. Officially. Her friend breaking her faster and more efficiently then a couple years of close proximity to a literal Eldritch parasite could.

"Can you put down that tray, sit down and tell me why the kitchen looks like you're expecting a cookie monster and at least three dozen people?"

Natasha snatched a cookie off of a plate, not that she was complaining, Cherry's baking was lovely but this amount of it was worrying. "Anybody I need to silently make go away?" She joked, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

Cherry had been locked inside her own worried thoughts for the better part of the day and when she couldn’t get out of her head her hands went to work.

Today it was cookies. There were sheet trays covering all the counters and while the little oven in the corner of the Sanctum’s kitchen wasn’t the high capacity, state of the line model she was used to from her days in the Tower, it still managed to keep up with her.

The air was saturated with the smell of vanilla and brown sugar. Motes of flour mingled with the dust and Cherry was covered in the stuff. She had her curly hair messily pinned back and the sleeves to her blouse rolled above her elbow, dough and flour and food coloring coating her finger tips and nail beds. The table was a riot of ingredients; chocolate chips, chopped nuts, rainbow sprinkles, raisins, cranberries, orange peels, several jars of jams, spices, and anything else she could get her hands on.

When she couldn’t process, she cooked. The movement of her hands and body seemed to burn up the nervous energy pent up inside of her. If she couldn’t do something she felt like a cooker under too much pressure, like she’d just explode.

She was being stupid. This was hardly the first other woman Wong had talked to or been around and Cherry had never felt like this before with him. Xialing ran the Golden Daggers, there was Carol Danvers (Cherry didn’t know her well, but had been introduced to her hologram a time or two), there was Katy and even Jen now and none of those bothered her, but that picture? That picture had punctured something inside Cherry’s security. Maybe it was because none of the other women had sent Wong a selfie. A very pointed and blatant selfie, staged, slightly tacky, but…the woman was attractive and from a law firm so she was smart and learned and probably making a decent amount of money…

Cherry’s mind continued to roll as she went about her well rehearsed movements. Make the dough base, throw in the filler, shape, chill, bake and cool. She went from one stage of the kitchen to the other like an assembly line.

What if Wong was tired of waiting? God, they’d been doing this dance for well over five years now and Cherry was hardly the same woman he’d first met. At least she knew how to have a little fun when Tony was still alive and she got into a little hijinx now and again. The last couple years he’d been helping her through her grieving process and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d helped him with any scrapes or bumps he got from his cage fighting. She was a weepy, tired, broken woman that clung to him like glue, but could offer little in return for his kindness.

She couldn’t breathe for a moment as her lungs went cold at the thought that maybe she’d waited too long. What if this was just his first step away from her? If he found someone else (someone else, like they had even been anything to begin with) could she still stay at Sanctum? How would she get to Kamar Taj to see the Younglings and Emmy…

Cherry forced herself forward, to keep moving, to not let the thoughts overtake her when…she jumped when she realized she wasn’t alone in the kitchen. It was like being rudely awakened from a nap, her whole body slamming back to the present and out of her head as she saw Natasha was beside her.

“I..” Cherry looked around her, so trapped in her hyperfixation for the last several hours, she could see the damage of her emotional conflict piled on the counters all around her and there was no Hulk or Thunder God to pass these confections off too. “I….’m going to take them to FEAST..later..”She said haltingly, wiping her hands on her stained jeans, her eyes snapping to Nat’s as she tried to interpret her words. *anyone I need to make go away?* Did she know? “Of course not…I don’t know what you mean,” She deflected lamely.

@shieldagentnatasharomanoff

[lovelyirony]

this is just a re-do of a post with a prompt from anonymous, so don’t worry if it looks a bit familiar! 

As Bucky is running away from government agents trying to snipe him for killing a politician, he supposes Natasha’s argument for him being suicidal might have the tiniest bit evidence behind it, which he previously argued it didn’t.

As he slides underneath a car, he debates whether or not she’ll find out about this one. He feels a buzz from his phone in his pocket.

Yeah, she knows.

He shoots one of the agents, nicking him in the knee. Oof, that’s gonna be a fun story to tell his grandkids about why they can’t climb on his lap. But he needs to get away, and that involves potentially shooting through a car.

Potentially turns into definitely and there’s enough of a distraction that he can commandeer a car, drive at least ten blocks away, and ditch it to run on foot, calling Natasha.

“You got my location, right?”

“Of course, you fucking idiot,” Natasha curses. “You…god I hate you sometimes. The job’s at least done, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll have to lay low, though. Which sucks because my apartment is right in the city.”

“I already have a punishment and idea for you in one.”

“I…what is it?”

“Sam’s picking you up. Tell you when you get to base. Bye.”

Bucky groans.

She must be really pissed at him.

Sam picks him up in the shittiest economy car in the world.

“I hate you for picking this one,” Bucky groans.

“A stupid decision grants a stupid car, that’s why you’re getting picked up in the 1995 Ford Fiesta of shame,” Sam says. “Nat’s real mad. And I also think you’re going to hate your next assignment.”

Bucky’s not sure what’s gonna happen. He’s hoping he’s not on latrine duty.

-

Oh, it’s so much worse.

“Protection detail?” Bucky asks. “And undercover? All at once? Nat, come on. I bet we don’t even need undercover.”

“You both are doing undercover because you both fucked up,” Natasha says. “And since apparently you don’t know how to act, maybe this will get you better lessons.”

“Cold,” Sam hisses.

“I will legally ask you to shut the fuck up,” Bucky growls out.

He packs his things. Realizes that Sam got to choose the name so his name is Roger Stevens. Fucking shit. (Steve, of course, approved this. Because Steve is an asshole.)

“Why does she even need a protector?” Bucky growls out, driving to the house. It’s in suburbia.

“Because she fucked up and whoever she pissed off might send more than she can handle,” Natasha says.

“We’re hinging my being here on a ‘maybe’?”

“And because you got caught by government agents, which would be a rookie move,” Natasha says. “There’s a reason that I can still go my same nail salon for five years and now you have to get your hair cut somewhere else. And why you got a wedding china set and you have a backstory of being married.”

“I hate you.”

“A lot of people do, take a number.”

If it helps (and it mostly doesn’t), Sharon Carter is also not happy. She is in the house with the most dangerous look Bucky has seen.

“So I’m stuck in this fucking hell house with him?” Sharon asks.

Maria Hill is her boss. Woman is a scary, competent human. Bucky wouldn’t cross her.

(Then again, you also shouldn’t cross a certain redhead who could make you disappear within twenty minutes, maybe thirty if it’s a surprise. But he did.)

“Keys are by the front door, hope you know your address! Bye!” Natasha says. “Don’t kill each other or we lose the deposit!”

Maria Hill smiles. Of course the only time Bucky’s ever seen her smile is at the suffering of others. How typical.

So then they are left alone.

“Let’s read the cover story,” Sharon says. “And I don’t need protection, Maria’s just paranoid.”

Bucky snorts.

“Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.”

Sharon sends him a sharp look.

They meet while on a cruise.

Bucky fucking hates his life.

“A fucking cruise,” he mutters. “As if I would ever step foot onto any of those fucking–”

“We had a beach wedding?!” Sharon cries out. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it!”

They are both in a bad mood.

It’s also awkward because this is a house. They have decorations. They have tea towels.

And a neighbor comes to visit.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she says brightly. “My name is Karen Tent, so lovely to meet you both!”

She then invades the house with her Tupperware. Literally speeds past them and it’s not like Sharon judo-chop her throat or anything.

“What a lovely house you two have!” Karen cheers. “Of course the color palette is a little bit drab, but I’m sure you’ll change that soon enough. When Linda told me we had new neighbors, I could hardly believe it myself, but here you are! Now, how did you two meet? Have you married yet? If not, I hope that you are living apart, you know.”

“The rings are in boxes,” Sharon answers smoothly, noting that they’ll need to ask Maria where the fuck the rings are. “You know how move-ins are. I’m Melanie Stevens, this is Roger Stevens. How nice to see you so very unexpectedly.”

“Well, that’s what neighbors are for!” Karen answers, her voice shrill as ever. “I brought over my famous cookie bars. Everyone says they’re good, and I believe they always are. Tell me Melanie, what do you like baking most?”

“Yes dear, tell her,” Bucky answers, smiling. “I seem to remember…lemon bars?”

“That’s right,” Sharon says, sending Bucky a smile. “They are really good. Just delightful.”

“Oh you’ll have to bring some over!” Karen responds. “Now, let me tell you a little bit about the neighborhood…”

She talks for a fucking hour. Bucky wants to drink. So badly. He saw the wine on the counter.

Sharon, to her credit, keeps trying to use certain “end” phrases. Karen either knows it and knows she won’t be budging, or will not ever take a hint in her lifetime.

“And you simply must not ever play loud music in your backyard,” Karen says. “We’ve had a couple of problems with the Richardsons, but nothing a few calls won’t fix.”

“You called the police?” Sharon asks.

“Well yes!”

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters.

“I am sure that’s not exactly the measure I would have done,” Sharon says. “But I am tired and don’t want to get into it now,” she says quickly, noticing Karen’s “confused” expression.

“I say we need some time to rest, today is gonna be a lot of moving,” he says. “So nice of you to stop by, Karen. I’ll return your dish as soon as possible.”

Karen is ushered out the door, placated with two waves, and they both groan.

“I’m gonna fucking hate everything after this,” Sharon mutters. “My name is fucking Melanie. Maria knows…” she trails off, facing the very real boxes that were obviously packed with dishes and miscellaneous items.

Bucky finds four spatulas. He doesn’t know why there are four.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, noting the incredibly cheesy salt-and-pepper set.

“Welcome to married life,” Sharon says sarcastically. “We’re gonna have a blast.”

Dinner is spent with Sharon trying to convince Bucky that she’s “fine” and in “no danger” at all.

“Who did you piss off?”

“Sitwell.”

“Oh my god. You’re screwed.”

“He’s a lapdog, I’m not screwed.”

“He’s the lapdog of Pierce. You’re screwed.”

Sharon thunks her head on the table.

“Can we at least repaint the bedrooms? They suck.”

“If you think I’m sleeping in a separate room you’re dead wrong,” Bucky says. “You have a target the size of New York on your back. Uh-uh.”

“You will sleep on the floor and get out when I shower or change,” Sharon threatens.

“Of course.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

Married life is not so bad. Except when Karen and the rest of the neighbors tend to visit or talk to them for about fifteen minutes on the lawn.

“It’s your turn to cut the grass,” Sharon groans, flopping on the couch. “If I have to hear Kevin tell me one more time that you should be treating me better, I’m going to explode. He’s trying to lecture me on how to cut grass.”

“On it,” Bucky says. “Your turn to go get groceries, I ran into Karen and her kid last time. I think she wants me to stop buying so much hummus.”

“Not our fault it’s good,” Sharon mutters.

-

And then, of course, avoiding the various assassins that are sent out at random intervals and at public locations (including their own house) while convincing the neighbors that there’s nothing going on.

This involves pretending an agent of Hydra is their cousin.

“This is Jen, she’s visiting for the day!” Sharon says, squeezing “Jen’s” wrist hard enough to make her stay quiet. “We have so much to catch up on, you probably won’t see me or–or Roger again for the day! Ha ha!”

“Well where’s her car?” Linda asks, looking around the neighborhood. “I don’t see anything…”

“She’s a hippie environmentalist, she walked,” Bucky answers. “Jen, let’s go catch up in the house, yeah?”

“Yeah,” the agent squeaks out sadly, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

She’s delivered tied up in rope on the steps of Maria’s office with a note of “please stop this from happening we’re planting azaleas.”

Maria snorts.

Bucky starts to think they’re getting too attached to this. It’s been four months.

He started a garden. They’re growing tomatoes.

He also notices Sharon a little bit differently.

Because she drags him out of bed.

“Legally? You have to go to brunch with me. Illegally? You like the breakfast burrito too much.”

She’s scarily competent with anything that could be classed as a weapon. Or their groceries.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky yells at her as she throws the jar of tomato sauce. “I am not cleaning that up!”

“Tough shit!” Sharon answers, dodging a bullet. “It wasn’t even the good kind of tomato sauce!”

“It was fine, sweetheart!” Bucky growls out.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me in the middle of a battle!” Sharon yells. “Strictly after!”

“You’re the weirdest fucking married couple,” one of the agents wheezes out as Bucky is holding him as a sort of shield.

“Thanks,” they say in unison, grinning.

-

The punishment for them both doesn’t exactly turn out as planned, both Natasha and Maria agree. In fact, it is almost worse.

They are both reckless, subvert orders, and get along like a house on fire by the end of it.

“You can still be together, we just need the house back,” Natasha says.

“Thank god,” Bucky groans. “I get to stop being Roger and I get rid of Karen in one fell swoop.”

Sharon untenses her shoulders while she’s sitting at the kitchen table.

“Can I keep the knife set?”

“No,” Maria says. “I’ll send you a link to where I got it.”

“Why can’t I keep it if you can get another set?”

“Steal it,” Bucky stage-whispers. Sharon grins back at him.

“You have the best ideas, babe.”

“You are not stealing anything,” Maria scowls.

“Sure we aren’t,” Bucky says easily.

“You stole my heart,” Sharon sing-songs, knowing damn well it’s going to make Maria barf.

“Aw babe…” Bucky says, holding her hand. Natasha fake-retches.

“I hate you both,” she declares. “And I won’t be there for your actual wedding.”

“You made us tell people we had a wedding on a beach, were you assuming that you were getting an invitation?” Bucky asks.

Sharon snickers, getting the last of her bags out into the car.

“Where to now?” she asks him.

“I think that there are some apartments we can look at…”

-

“We’ve made a collective monster,” Maria decides, blinking. “We Frankensteined this.”

“We did,” Natasha says, staring at the house. There are still little bits of glass. An unfortunately busted can of beans where someone had been knocked out and they had “conveniently” forgotten to clean it up from yesterday.

Well. Sharon and Bucky are going to cause havoc on the world. Maria and Natasha just hope they can cover the other while doing so.

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Late Night Confessions...With Father Jimin (Chapter Two)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙛 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙝. 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙣𝙪𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩?

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance, Smut, Forbidden Relationship

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈): Vanilla Sex, Mentions of BDSM, Manipulation, Priest! Jimin, Nun! Reader, Rich! Hoseok

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 4k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Reader

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Next →

_________________________________________________

“So have any of you committed a grievous sin before you became a nun?” Sister Anne asks, making all of you shudder.

“Once I stole a cookie from a cookie jar after my mummy told me it was time for bed.” Sister Levy confesses.

“Once I stole my best friend’s boyfriend.” Sister Jen answers.

“Oh, that’s bad.” Sister Anne laughs, lying on her back.

“What about you, Sister Rosemary?” They look to you, and you muster up the courage to tell them the truth.

“I slept with my step brother,”

 Your comment makes all of them turn pale white, and their eyes widen as they look at you with newfound horror. “That was a joke! Did you think I would really do that?!” You all laugh it off, but a detail you forgot to mention was that it was very real, and you indeed had intercourse with your step brother. It was a hot summer’s day, you were both attracted to each other, he said you looked hot in booty shorts, and the next thing you know you’re sprawled out on the couch, letting him have you like a meal. He was hot, until you found out he was also sleeping with a lot of your friends. And then you ended it. It lasted for about two years, since you were 15 until 17. And now, you’re trying to escape it again; afraid of what he might do in case his father gave him permission to punish you however he sees fit.

Evening rolls around and it has become a routine for you and the Bishop to stay behind for extra prayer before bidding goodnight and retiring to bed. Slowly, you’ve both began speaking to each other, a couple words turning into sentences, and now he even helps you turn off the lights and takes care of other things before bed. You learned that he grew up in a small town and became a priest after his calling at 15, and then at age 20, he became the Bishop, proving everyone wrong. You’ve also began noticing other things, like the way his hair looks in the dim lighting of the candles, or the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his family, or even the way his voice streams from his throat like a pretty melody, just an excellent tonality for a priest.

“C-can I confess?” You ask, earning a weird look from him.

“Sure. Let’s go to the booth.” He takes his seat, as you scoot in close, your nose almost touching the wooden cell. You’re so close, you can hear him breathing on the other side. Your knees have gotten used to the peu, so it doesn’t hurt as much as it did the first day.

“It must have been three years ago, when I made a terrible choice. I couldn’t help it, he looked too good. His jeans clung to his hips, his open shirt revealing his abs, I just couldn’t help but spread my legs for him. Oh forgive me father for I have sinned, I actually am a lecherer who had sex with her brother. Step brother.” Your confession makes him go silent, for a good minute and a half. Jimin had never heard of such a thing, as step-family or not, it’s taboo. 

“Were you pressured?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

“No. I was in the heat of the moment, and after a couple more exchanges, we ended up doing it…” He had never heard of a nun who lost her virginity. Now he knows Sister Rosemary isn’t just an ordinary nun. And you willingly told him.

“Since you’re confessing to me, I feel it be best that I confess to you,” Your eyes widen as he looks at you through the tiny wooden holes, a smile forming on his face. “I accidentally killed the bishop, and took his place. My name isn’t Father Francis, it’s Jimin.” Finally, someone who understands.

“My step father is the leader of a mafia group. My brother is his heir, and I ran away because they were so bad...they killed my first boyfriend, Jay,” You explain, making Jimin frown. “So I’m in hiding now. Pretty crazy, huh?” You look at the clock, 11:00 exactly.

“It’s been a month since you got here, right?” You nod, biting your lips and looking at your feet. “It’s been the same for me. Father Yoongi won’t let me do anything.” Jimin sighs, and you get to your feet. 

“Shall I go to bed then?” You ask, the initial awkwardness wearing off.

“No. You stay right there.” Jimin runs off for a second, and leaves you waiting. “Close your eyes!” He shouts to you. 

“Happy one month of being here.” In front of you is a cake, decorated in pretty colors and some fondant flowers as well.

“Thank you, Jimin. I don’t know what to say-”

“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything.” He simply lights a candle. “Now make a wish.”

“But it isn’t my birthday!” You laugh, and he simply rubs his fingers through your veil.

“Even so, you deserve it. I feel bad for you, it sounds like you don’t deserve any of the shit you went through,” You close your eyes and blow out the candle, as Jimin takes a knife and cuts a slice for you. “It’s days like these I don’t feel like doing anything it all.” And you don’t have to. You want to say. He accidentally killed the Bishop, but one death is nothing compared to the thousands your step father had killed.

“Jimin...thank you so much.” You hold his hand and squeeze tightly, tight enough for him to look at you with that blank stare.

“I didn’t do anything, though.”

“You’ve done so much.” You find yourself leaning in, and just as the clock strikes 11:20, your lips are connected.

“You should go to bed now.” He wipes a piece of cake off your lips and puts it into his own mouth, savoring it before leaving the room, flustered by your actions. It was the first time in a long time that any woman had looked his way, and the first time his heart reacted the way it did. What were you doing to him? A simple nun, well not so simple since you told him the truth. A girl was making him go crazy.

“You look like you’re in a good mood.” Father Yoongi smiles as Jimin comes prancing into the room.

“Who? Me? Pfffft, I’m just feeling the holy spirit today.” The older man just rolls his eyes at Jimin.

“Whatever you say.” The priest already suspects him though, because one day while he was making a nighttime food run, he saw the lights were still on in the chapel, long after prayer was over. There, he saw you speaking in a hushed voice to the Bishop. What were you two up to? He had no idea, but he was going to find out.

The next day, Jimin calls you to the garden after prayer. He wasn’t going to let Yoongi catch you and stop your end of the night heart-to-hearts.

“Can I make another confession?” You ask him.

“Sure, why not now?” Jimin has nothing better do except talk to you for a sense of home and comfort.

“I actually wanted to sleep with my brother. Even back in the beginning, when I met that bastard, I wanted to actually fuck the shit out of him. He was just too damn attractive.”

“Wow, how brave of you to admit it.” Jimin didn’t mean that in a sarcastic sense, as he felt empathy for the girl. She was just a hormonal teenager at the time, and he noticed how she had matured into quite the young woman. You had luscious lips, large breasts, and an overall curvy body. You’re fit, but not too skinny, a natural beauty. Perhaps if you met at a different time, Jimin would have saved you from your horrible family earlier. He wanted you to be happy, seeing the pain in your eyes.

“I feel so stupid, he just played with me.” You start letting your emotions pour out in the form of tears.

“Don’t cry, at least you realized how crazy he is.”

“He was bad for me...but he made me feel so good,” Your words astonish Jimin, and a sudden urge to pin you down and have his way with you clouded his thoughts. He wanted to be with you, emotionally, mentally, physically. You simply sigh and turn your head to see Jimin deep in thought. “Something on your mind?” He shakes his head.

“Just...you look so beautiful under the moonlight. Can I kiss you?” You lean in, and he accepts that as his answer. “So soft…” You think out loud as Jimin lightly moans under you, his hands moving down your habit (yes that is the name of the tunic type clothes that nuns wear), and his fingers pull the fabric taut. You gasp, allowing him to roughly grab you, the dress hiking up your thigh.

“Shit, Father Yoongi’s light.” Jimin pants heavily, sitting up as you crawl on top of him.

“He won’t notice if we keep quiet.” You smirk at him, an idea formulated in your mind. “Or we can continue this later...in my room.” You never liked having sex outside, since once Hoseok thought it was a good idea to do it in the backyard when your parents were home. You still have nightmares from that.

“Sounds like a plan. You use the backdoor from the kitchen, I’ll go in through the chapel. He’ll never know you were here,” You nod, rushing out the way he told you. Jimin simply strolls to the door and greets Yoongi, who was momentarily startled by the unexpected movement in the corner. “I wasn’t feeling sleepy, so I took a walk through the gardens.”

“This late at night?” Yoongi questions him but there is no evidence to prove him wrong so he has no choice but to let him go.

“Now I’m really tired, so if you’ll excuse me…” Jimin makes his way towards you, and you open the door for him so he can sneak into your room unseen.

“I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” You lick your lips, temptatious thoughts filling your mind as Jimin stood before you, now disrobing and revealing his much more attractive parts.

“We better hurry. If someone catches us, we’re both finished.” You weren’t a fan of quickies, since Hoseok came in 12 seconds every time, but you could tell it was different with Jimin. Hopefully you aren’t repeating the same mistake.

“Relax. Father Yoongi isn’t gonna burst into your room, is he?” You ask. Jimin sighs.

“Hopefully, he doesn’t. But he has a bad habit of being unpredictable, since his hobby is sleeping, it’s easy to tell when he’ll wake up.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Fuck me already.” He pushes you onto the bed, kissing you vigorously and climbing over you. You whine into his mouth, panting as he pinches your ass, smirking at your reaction. He looks for more ways to make you cum without even taking your clothes off. The look in his eyes is enough to make any girl drenched, but the way his lips melt against yours is different. A good different.

“A girl like you is nothing close to a nun. Look at you, so wet already.” He pulls down your panties, digging his fingers into your pussy. Your walls tighten around him immediately, making your moans a bit higher-pitched. “Be quiet, unless you wanna get caught.” You nod, closing your mouth and breathing erratically through your nose. After fingering you for awhile, sensing your climax, he decides to remove the rest of your clothes and get to the good part. You lick your lips as he removes his shirt, and then unbuckles his Levi’s jeans. There’s no way a priest could look this good. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t a priest, and you aren’t a nun. But this could make for some really hot roleplay.

“J-Jimin!” You scream as his lips are suddenly on your clit.

“That’s it,” He pulls out a handkerchief. Before you can ask what he will do with it, he stuffs it into your mouth. It tastes like clean laundry, but you have your doubts. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll just have to make you be silent.” Your eyes fly open when you feel the pressure at your ass. He rubs his dick between your cheeks, and you can do nothing, powerless and submissive to his actions. The worst part is, you don’t want him to stop. This was your problem with Hoseok. You shudder at the memories, moaning for him to stop. 

“Y/N?” Jimin stops teasing you, removing the makeshift gag from your mouth.

“Sorry, I was just getting flashbacks.” You close your eyes. “Please...can we take this one slowly?” You plead, hoping he wouldn’t be overly aggressive like Hoseok.

“Of course we can, baby.” You begin kissing each other again, except this time feels more heartfelt. Slowly, you both sink into the bed and Jimin lowers his kisses to your inner thighs. You moan as he leaves hickies, softly. He smiles, no longer afraid of getting caught. You start chasing after your climax, bucking your hips and begging him to make you cum as his tongue dove deeper between your folds.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Cum if you need to, cum on my tongue, babe.” With his permission, the white fluids leak out from your body, and you gasp at the force of the orgasm. You had literally never cum so hard in your life before.

“Jimin,” You don’t care if he just ate you out. You simply kiss him, expressing all of the adoration you have for him at the moment.

“Y/N. Fuck.” You smirk, switching positions when you feel his penis harden. A good thick veiny cock with about 8 inches. Perfect. Every inch of him is perfect.

“Let me ride you.” He nods, helping you adjust yourself on his dick. After you’re ready, you start moving, bucking your hips forward as his cock slips into you.

“Fuck! You’re so big.” You whisper, trying not to let the moans grow too loud.

“Look at you, so full. I can feel how tight you are, baby. Such a sinful girl, aren’t you?” He hums, as you press soft kisses to his pillow like lips. “Fuck, so good...fuck fuck fuck!” His words make your own walls clench around him excitement, sucking in his heated sex expertly.

“Jimin, please!” You rock into his body, as his hands stay put on the sides of your ass cheeks, guiding you to your orgasm.

“Yes, god, right there.” He closes his eyes, more exhausted than anything.

“Please, father, let me cum.” His eyes are darkened with lust. Under the dim lighting of the room, you can see him looking at you with dark, passionate eyes. The innocence which once possessed him is gone, replaced by a man with much more need and power..

“Only if you can hold out longer, I’m almost there, Sister.” After a couple more thrusts, you both reach the much-needed climax, your bodies covered in sweat and cum. “Such a bad nun, but such a good girl.” He kisses me again, before pulling off the condom and discarding it.

“Thanks. I needed that.” You smile, closing your eyes and drifting off. You do briefly awaken throughout the night, as Jimin retreats to his chambers.

The next morning is rough, as your body recovers from the much-needed exercise. You didn’t realize how much you missed sex until Jimin was 9 inches deep inside you, rutting his hips against yours in a sinful manner. It had been awhile since a man showed you how well his hips could move, excluding your asshole of a stepbrother. You manage to make through most of the day despite the soreness, but only one nun suspects you, or rather catches on.

“Who was it?” Sister Jen has a basket of bread looped around her arms, and she rests her other hand on her stomach.

“What?” You try to resume your business, sweeping the floors as thoroughly as possible.

“I’m a nun, not a child. I know these things, and also,” She trots in front of you, trying to be as secretive as possible. “You’ve been standing in the same place for five minutes.” You curse to yourself for being so careless.

“What do you think you know?” You’re curious to see if the nun is as bad as she makes herself out to be.

“You’re smiling a lot more today, and you have a slight limp in every step. Darling, there’s no reason for you to be happy if you’re on your cycle.” You sigh in relief, relieved to know she hasn’t got a clue as to what you and the Bishop did in the previous night.

“I’ll have you know that I actually have a lot of friends who are naturally in a good mood during their period.” You retort, playing along with her. Sister Jen snickers before running off to the kitchen, presumably to get more food. As you make your way further down the hall, you reach the preparation room, which is like a kitchen but it’s used for storing divine gifts. Normally, only the priests and nuns in a mass go into the room to retrieve items in case they are running low on any. You didn’t have a mass to attend today, as the church was closed down due to a financial situation. Apparently the head priests are going to make a deal with a rich businessman and keep the church up and running. That’s why everyone has been going crazy with the cleaning duties today.

You just hope the rich businessman might be a normal guy, a CEO looking for profits, or anyone who doesn’t want this place to fall into the wrong hands. You’ve grown to love it here, as all of the priests are young and new and learning everyday, the nuns treat you like family, and you met Jimin. You also know that Yoongi is a wise person despite being younger than most of the head priests in the area, and he wouldn’t allow it to happen. You pray that he negotiates with a good man, someone who loves church and God and all things good. You wish you were born into a normal family, as being the stepdaughter of a mafia leader has only gotten you into trouble thus far. His son treats you like a sex toy, his friends see you as a trophy. He is dead to you, and you hope that one day he becomes a better person. You realized it too late, though, and look where that’s gotten you, hiding amongst nuns pretending to be one and lying to everyone in the vicinity. You despise it, but you have to survive. You finally have a chance at a fresh start, as soon as the cops catch him, and send him to jail. In that case, you’d inherit all his money, since Hoseok would be caught as well.

It was never about the money in the first place, when you teamed up with the cops and decided to start working with them. You’d had enough of your evil stepfamily and all of the horrors that followed, even complaining to the policemen about it. You whined about Hoseok but they couldn’t arrest him, since you had no evidence, as your body was clean of any scratches or bruises. Then after you went home, your stepfather had revealed to you that he planted a mole at the police station and you were to go to Belgium with Hoseok as punishment and stay under his care. You were only 17, so you couldn’t live alone. Especially in a foreign country. So you ran to the police station and the officers offered you the easiest solution: go into hiding and don’t go out until the perpetrator has been caught.

That’s how you ended up in the Abbey, and how you eventually came to the church, since your father’s men almost found you and you had to relocate. Things should be calmer here, but there’s always something in the back of your mind that tells you that you’re not safe and they already know where you are, and that’s on your paranoia. You know there’s nothing to be afraid of, since you have Father Yoongi and the Reverend Mother on your side.

They are always monitoring things, always updating you. Sometimes, Father Yoongi even tells you how things are going back at the Abbey, and how the nuns miss you. Virtually, this is supposed to be the safest place in the world. That is, until a cold clammy hand makes its way to your mouth and you’re struggling as the person pulls you into the empty preparation room.

You bite him, and then you hear a familiar voice. “Ah, what was that for? It’s just me.” You turn around, recognizing those juicy lips in the dark lighting of the room.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I thought you were a mole. My stepdad is infamous for sending people out to drag me back to him.” Jimin notices how your breathing has gotten heavier, and how fear lingers in your voice. You bite your lip as he stares into your soul, seeing you as you are.

“I won’t let anyone take you away!” His voice gets a bit louder, startling you as you hear a door slamming outside.

“Go, Jimin. I think the rich guy is here,” He nods, but instead of turning around like you anticipated, he lifts you up and presses a sweet, warm kiss on your lips. Before he gets the chance to slip his tongue in, you rip yourself out of the embrace, breaking the kiss with haste. “We can continue this later.” You stare after him in awe, as he exits the room, waiting for his footsteps to disappear before sneaking out of the room to the dining room, where all of the nuns and priests are gathered to eat.

You catch a glimpse of Jimin’s hair, as he disappears into the chapel with Father Yoongi and a couple of men in suits. You assumed two of the three other men were his bodyguards, as rich people have many attempts on their lives nowadays. But something about the figure sends chills down your spine, when you catch the way his lips turn upright on his mouth, the curve, you know that curve.

“Excuse me.” You make your way to the bathroom, haunted by the replaying memories of Hoseok, as he used you for his pleasure. The same Hoseok who was seemingly nice when you first met, but later became a womanizer who would fuck anyone with a pair of tits and a pussy. He became a menace, someone you couldn’t stand to look at as he took your innocence and turned you into something disgusting. You couldn’t even look at a mirror for months because you were so disgusted. It took a lot of courage for you to look at him directly in the eyes again, but his sweet persona combined with his beastly sexual habits made for a fucking heaven in bed. That’s what you hated, the fact that you liked it, you liked the rough sex. You actually hadn’t been vanilla with anyone in over a year, as Hoseok had exposed you to BDSM and you stayed within that bubble. It was Jimin who broke down your walls yesterday and gave you amazing vanilla sex. You just wish you weren’t ruined. Maybe it would’ve been more enjoyable if Jimin was your first time.

“Y/N~” His voice sends shivers down your spine as you dry your hands, the memory slowly coming to life again as you dwell on the thoughts of him. “Come give your brother a hug,” You’re at a loss for words when it repeats, and instead of disappearing, the sound bounces around the bathroom. “I missed you, didn’t you miss me too?” You’re frozen, as he makes his way into the bathroom, and your suspicions are confirmed. It was Hoseok, who Yoongi was thinking about splitting the cash with. Filthy, dirty, Insectuous Jung Hoseok, who was your older brother. Step brother.

“No. You’re not real.” He grabs your hair, yanking it for proof. Okay, that hurt.

“Yes I am.” His voice comes out all sing-songy, as he looks at you with amused eyes. You hate how pleasing he is to your eyes, and how his voice sends shivers down your spine, and how your pussy throbs with excitement as he licks his lower lip.

“Please don’t tell dad. I don’t want to live with you, just leave me alone.” You close your eyes, sobbing silently and praying for him to go away so you wouldn’t be tempted anymore.

“Actually, I’m not working with dad. I’m here because the cops sent me, I’m gonna help you detain him.” Your eyes widen as you look at him through the mirror, looking for any signs of a lie. But he does look sad, genuinely.

“What?! But h-how? Didn’t you want to make me your sex slave in Belgium? Use me however you see fit?” He sighs, clutching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. You see lines on his forehead, and how he looks...remorseful.

“No, not really. I didn’t realize how badly I was treating you, until a girl down in London did the same thing to me. She used me for sex, and money, and I was so blindly in love with her that I didn’t realize-” He sighs again, and you catch his lips trembling as you look at him, facing forward to examine his flawless fatures again. This version of Hoseok was one you’d never encountered before. So vulnerable, so needy...exactly the type of guy you needed back when your parents married each other. “The point is, I didn’t come here to take you back. Dad has no idea, and I want to try to be a good person. So can you please forgive me?” You clutch the tap in front of you, resting on the entire sink as Hoseok waits for an answer.

“Maybe not fully, but right now, I’m pretty happy. There’s a priest here who isn’t a priest, and I slept with him yesterday, but I wasn’t fully satisfied...since he was all vanilla.” You can’t believe yourself for doing this, but since the opportunity presented itself, why not seize it by the horns?

“Oh, so you’ll forgive me better if I do a favor for ya?” You nod slightly, cocking your head to the side as Hoseok’s eyes have mischief in them. You recognize it from when you were just clueless teenagers, how experience shaped it all. 

“Not now, but maybe later. Are you staying overnight?” You ask, as he presses a couple buttons on his phone.

“Wasn’t planning on it, but it looks like I don’t have a choice now. Until next time, sister.” He tilts your chin upwards before smashing his lips against yours in a passionate manner, all of the pent up lust and frustration released within a matter of seconds. He picks you up and sets you down on the sink, so that your legs are wrapped around his hips and his arms are wrapped around your lower back for support. After kissing for a minute or so, he breaks the kiss, panting heavily and resting his forehead against yours.

“I missed you, and I’m sorry for being a jerk.” You hum in agreement, feeling light from all of the information. It was a bit overwhelming, the jerk brother that took your virginity is now trying to be a good guy and kissing you like he loved you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s in love with you, but Hoseok is the same as he always was, and he only realized his mistakes from the past, trying to make things more bearable for you.

The rest of the day goes by pretty slowly, as you anticipate an exciting night with your brother and your boyfriend/friend/Bishop. You haven’t talked to Jimin about it, but you have a feeling that he’ll be open to it. You grab his hand and guide him to Hoseok’s room.

“What’s…?” You smirk, making your way next to your stepbrother and patting the bed beside you.

“Jimin, meet Hoseok.” A smile plays on your lips as Jimin looks between the two of you in disbelief.

[thecampbellfam]

Jasper’s Birth Story

I knew there was the possibility of Jasper being born past his due date but I’ll admit that I expected that he’d be born early like Wesley was. Much to our surprise, our due date came and went with not a single sign of labour. Jasper must have known that some life things would come up and we’d need those extra 5 days to be fully settled for his arrival. 

On Monday, February 25th, I finally had my first contraction at around 10:30am. It was a relief to know that my body remembered how to go into labour. My midwife, Jen, called shortly after to discuss induction as I was nearing 41 weeks. My midwives allow a woman to go to 42 weeks pregnant to allow time for natural labour to happen. After that point an induction would need to happen. My midwives apparently needed a week to schedule the induction, which was why Jen was calling. On the phone I told her I’d been having some contractions for the last 45 minutes. We agreed that if labour didn’t progress that we’d talk about when to induce at my pre-scheduled appointment on Wednesday, February 27th. For the next few hours I stayed on my feet hoping that it would speed up labour and encourage baby to move down. I tidied the house, made lunch, worked on some jars, and I was even planning to make cookies. At 1:15pm I let my Doula, Keri, know that early labour had begun. She asked a few questions via text and then called so she could hear my voice. Contractions were fairly sporadic and without much rhythm at that point. I was leaking discharge but had no bloody show yet so we agreed that she’d be on standby until I needed support. I also let Keri know that my least favourite midwife at the practice (Jen) was on-call that day. I let Keri know this just in case I needed a bit of extra space or help in that situation if Jen was the midwife at the delivery. 

Nic had been working in the morning to finish up a jobsite and run some work related errands. I had texted him a few times that morning to ask how his day was going, but didn’t mention that I was in early labour. I asked him to text me when he was done his errands because “I needed him to pick-up something from the store.” Once he called, I admitted that I was in early labour and that he should head home. He arrived home at 2:15pm which was when I texted my friend, Serena, to let her know that I was in early labour. Serena was planning to be at the birth, as she had been at Wesley’s too and is an excellent friend and support to both Nic and I. She was at school until 6:30pm so wasn’t sure that she’d make it in time if the birth happened quickly. At 3:00pm my contractions were still sporadic but hadn’t stopped coming. They ranged from every 2 minutes to every 11 minutes, lasting 30-60+ seconds. However, there was still no rhythm to the contractions. By this point, I was exhausted. Nic’s mom, Erin, came over for a quick visit right as I was getting ready for a nap. I didn’t want her to know that I was in early labour so I had to sit for a half hour having regular contractions while pretending that everything was okay. As soon as she left, I laid down for a little bit. 

By 5:00pm my contractions were still sporadic and I was low on energy. Sitting down on the toilet to pee was excruciating. Nic made us dinner and I ate a tiny bit. At 7:00pm the contractions started to increase in intensity and I had a little bit of bloody show. Contractions were between 35-50 seconds and every 3.5-7 minutes (but mostly every 6-7 minutes). Keri called and reminded me to rest as she could tell that I was getting tired. Serena said she was on her way over. I was starting to feel defeated and wondered if I should just go to bed to rest or if I should continue walking around to encourage labour to become active. At 7:30pm the midwife, Jen, who had spoken with me in the morning called to apologize for her earlier phone call. She had been unclear with me about what the next steps for induction were and felt badly about that. I let her know that the contractions I’d mentioned in the morning had not stopped and that I may be having the baby soon without the induction. 

At 8:00pm, I laid down in our bed while Nic put Wesley to bed. Serena came over and laid down beside me to see how I was doing. Over the course of the next half hour the contractions, even while laying down, were increasing in intensity. Every second contraction was excruciating. At 8:30pm I got up to get a snack. The contractions suddenly got really intense and I promptly vomited twice. Serena used a handheld massager and counter pressure on my back to help me cope with the contractions. By 9:15pm the contractions were very close together. Keri offered to come over and give us some support, which we accepted. It was at this point that we called the midwives to let them know that everything was progressing. Within 15 minutes we realized it was time to leave for the hospital immediately. We packed up the last minute items and loaded everything into the car, including a barf bowl for me, and were on the road to the hospital at 9:39pm. Keri had just arrived at the house and said she’d follow us. Serena did the same. 

We arrived at the hospital at 10:05pm. Nic dropped me off by the front doors and I slowly made my way into the hospital, while having regular contractions. I briefly thought about checking myself in and registering but decided against it as I was all alone and the emergency room looked packed. I made my way to the elevators at which point Keri met me and we made our way upstairs. I pressed the button for the wrong floor but a kind woman in the elevator gently told me that I needed the 3rd floor. ;) I made my way to triage, laid in the bed, and then had a massive vomit session after some extremely painful contractions. Nic and Serena joined us, and then were sent back downstairs to check me in. Keri stayed by my side, ready to catch vomit and support me as needed. Nic and Serena rejoined us quickly after and helped give me support through contractions as I had a few tests done.  

At 10:37pm I was checked. My midwife team was a student named Carly and the midwife that I’m not a huge fan of, Jen. Carly was the main one doing the checks and administering care. Carrie did a vaginal check and seemed surprised. I thought by her expression that she was going to tell me that I wasn’t dilated enough. She wanted Jen to check me too to confirm that she had the right information. To my surprise I was 8cm (almost 9!) with bulging waters. Definitely active labour! I was told to make my way to the delivery room down the hall, so I waddled over there with fluid leaking out of me. Once in the delivery room, contractions remained intense and frequent. It was all hands on deck whenever I had a contraction. Counter pressure on my back was necessary. I was told to pee and it was again excruciating to try and sit. I was able to stand for a few contractions before I asked to lay down again. Keri and Serena told me to try being on all fours. They brought in a yoga ball which I leaned over at the top of the bed. This is where I remained for the rest of the labour. 

At 11:32pm I started to push naturally. After a minute or two of pushing, Carly let me know that my waters still hadn’t broken. She gave me two options: 1. Continue to push and see if my waters would break naturally (which could make for a long time of pushing). 2. Manually break the waters (though there was a risk of infection if there was meconium in the waters). On the next push I bore down so hard that my waters exploded EVERYWHERE. After that came a moment of laughter at the explosion of my waters (and at me for stating the obvious: “My waters broke!”). I continued to push hard with each contraction as the pressure was intense and I wanted that baby out. I continued to make everyone laugh as I started to self-motivated myself by saying: “I can do this. I can do this.” I was pushing so hard and feeling baby move down very quickly. I was told to slow down, which I thought was because of tearing. I later learned that it was because they were worried that baby would fall out if I pushed any harder. I soon pushed baby’s head come out. One of his shoulders got stuck and Carly helped to guide his shoulder out and then he just fell out into her arms. 

At 11:41pm on February 25th baby Jasper was born! He was a surprisingly huge 10 pounds, 5 ounces, 21.5 inches long with a full head of hair. I had some second degree internal tearing that my midwife stitched up. Jasper had a raspy breathing sound so we were in the recovery room for a while. The nurse really wanted us to move to the maternity floor but our midwives insisted on staying until Jasper’s breathing was deemed “normal.” Turns out the hospital was full and there were a TON of babies being born, so they were really needing our delivery room ASAP. 

Nic had to go get our bag and pay for parking right around the time that we were cleared to be moved to the maternity floor. Our nurse helped me gather our things and wheel me and baby up to the maternity floor. We were in our (shared) room by 2:30am. I felt so bad for the other family in our room as our nurse wasn’t particularly quiet at giving us instructions for the evening. Nic met us in our room soon after we got there. I took a few minutes to wash my face and put on an adult diaper and pajamas before cozying into bed with Jasper around 3am. I barely got any sleep that night but was feeling energized as I was high on adrenaline. 

At 6am a nurse came in to give Jasper his firth bath and do some final checks on Jasper and I. Then she gave us the okay to be discharged. Nic went and got the car seat, we did the car seat check and loaded up the car before hitting the road at 7:45am. I let my sister know that baby was born if she wanted to come and take photos of Wesley meeting him. She enthusiastically agreed but needed a bit of time to get to our house. So we slowly made our way home, stopping for Starbucks, McDonalds breakfast and gas along the way. We made it home just as Wesley was waking up for the day. A whirlwind 12 hours but so worth it! 

Welcome to the world, Jasper Thomas! 

[closetspngirl]

Love Heals the Soul (Part 12) - The Panel

Summary: Panel day! Nothing could happen here...with Jensen and Jared on stage...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader, Jared

Word Count: 2397 (sorry…)

Warnings: Fluff, rolled in fluff, with a little extra fluff sprinkled on top, ya know, for safe measure.

A/N: I am soooo sorry that I was still being lazy. I need to get back into the swing of things. Feedback is always welcome! Italicized are lyrics, POV thoughts or text conversations; you can tell by the context.

The next morning you awoke surprisingly easy, 30 minutes before your alarm, which was rare for you on a day off, let alone after a late night. Knowing that I’m seeing Jensen today has *nothing* to do with it I’m sure… With your extra time, you decided to go down to the hotel gym and run a few miles, get the heart rate going, sweat a little; that was always a good way to start the day. You changed your sleep shorts and tank for some leggings and a fitted lightweight hoodie, grabbed your headphones and went downstairs. By the time you reached the gym, you had already put your headphones in, blaring some AC/DC, not paying attention to anyone or anything going on around you. Once on the treadmill, situated and running, you tried to shut off your mind for the duration. Running on a treadmill was more or less a last result for you, preferring the outdoors to stationary running. But, given the time constraint today, the ungodly hour on a day off and the weather, here you were, staring at the same spot that was out the window across from you.

The sound of your alarm that you decided to set before you started your run pulled you back to the reality of the hotel gym. You didn’t realize it, but you had been going for almost 25 minutes at a fairly steady pace, usually changing it to whatever song was playing. You shut the machine off, hopped down and grabbed one of the towels provided to wipe your face a little, as you started walking out the door…That wasn’t too bad. Now I’m ready to start the…

“Oof!” You exclaimed as you nearly fell on your butt after running into a solid wall of muscle, but being caught by two very strong hands that steadied you and kept that from happening. It took you a second to register what just happened, and when you figured it out, you looked up to see whom it was that you collided with. “Oh my god, Jensen! I’m so sorry!” You instantly regretted not washing your face last night, and now mixed with the sweat, you were definitely a hot mess.

All Jensen could do was stand there and smile, that all too genuine, gorgeous smile, letting a small chuckle escape his lips. “It’s ok, it’s not the worse way to start my day. I finished up my workout and saw you finishing up your run and was coming over to say good morning,” he leaned down and kissed your cheek and took your hand in his. “Ugh, Jen, I’m sweaty and gross, at least let me take a shower first,” you whined, still enjoying the fact that he did that. He just responded with a smirk and something in his eye, you couldn’t quite decide what it was. “You look perfect, as always.”

The two of you were making your way to your rooms, hand in hand, exchanging the general pleasantries. “Ready for your panel this morning?” you asked him. “Yeah, Jar and I have a lot of fun at these, despite the early hours of the gold panel. And speaking of early, we still have another…” checking his watch, “hour and a half before we need to be there, want to grab coffee before?”

“Sure, I’ll just need to shower and change….wait…we?” You were at your door by now, but you were suddenly stock still at the realization of what Jensen said. He laughed a little. “Yeah, we, if that’s ok? I figured you could come hang out with us; the gold panel is only a half hour, not long at all. And there’s always someone in the green room to hang out with. Jar and I have our autographs and photo ops after that throughout the afternoon, and then the last panel,” Jensen finally took a breath, but hoping he made good work of trying to convince you to come along for the day.

“Are you’re sure no one will mind? I’m not exactly with the show.” You questioned him nervously. “No one. They all love you, and if anyone has an issue with it, we’ll tell them you’re with me, in every sense of the phrase,” Jensen answered expectantly. Your face was suddenly redder than it was from the run. “Ok then, I guess I’ll go get ready,” stepping up on your toes to give him a kiss on the lips, slow, meaningful, but not anything to distract the two of you form your newly made plans. “Give me 25 minutes?” you asked. “Perfect.”

You had the shower as hot as you could stand, washing off the morning run while also trying to relax you before the day ahead. Your conversation with Kim and Briana had been brief; they left you to get ready while they went to grab some breakfast before their day started. After your shower you rifled through your bag for a change of clothes, when your eyes fell on a certain blue shirt. I’m a nobody here, no one will notice, and I don’t have to talk about it…you thought as you put on the safe and familiar flannel and rolled the sleeves up. You finished off the outfit with simple make up, a messy bun, jeans and converse; this outfit being a staple of your wardrobe.

Just as you stepped outside the door, you saw Jensen walking down the hall, simply dressed as well; jeans, boots, long sleeve and a coat. “I’m a fan of the shirt,” Jensen said with a chuckle. “Yeah…I was kind of nervous to wear it, I’ve noticed that a lot of the convention goers have chosen that as their…outfit of choice. But, it…” you trailed off, barely getting all of that out without sounding nervous. Jensen cut you off before you had to think of what to tell him, “It’s fine. I love it on you.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head.

“Coffee? Despite the workout, I could definitely use the caffeine.”

“Mm. Agreed.” You responded.

With your coffees in hand, you made your way to the green room, still having a little time before the panel started. That gave the two of you time to sit and talk until Jared got there.

“Hey, Y/N! How was the rest of your guys’ night?” he questioned, looking between the two of you. Jensen and yourself shared a look, having a silent conversation. Your eyes settled back on Jared, “It was good, really good,” a smile a mile wide was spread on your face. Jared chucked, “Good. You ready Jen?”

You realized then that the guys on stage had started playing, which was the cue for Jensen and Jared to go out there. “Have fun!” You told Jensen, getting a kiss in response, followed by one of his winks and heart stopping smiles before he walked through the curtain.

The crowd, of course, went crazy for them; you couldn’t blame them, they were pretty amazing. Rob and Rich introduced the guys, not that they needed it, and then joined you, when Jared started with, “Hi guys!”.  You could sit and watch them all day; the chemistry between the two of them and how they interacted with the fans was incredible. They had stories for days, ones that left you with tears streaming down your face from the hilarity of them, but they were also genuine and serious when fans would tell them how much the show, character stories or even actors’ stories helped them with their own lives. I can’t believe that I actually get to see this first hand.

They started in on the questions, some of them being ones they normally get at cons; favorite story from set, favorite prank, favorite character line and so on. The next fan got up to ask their question.

“Hi, my name is Hailey.” She started, quietly. “Jared, Jensen” Jared smarted off, pointing between the two of them, eliciting laughs from the crowd. Always a classic. You couldn’t help yourself by letting out a laugh.

Hailey laughed, “So, my question is for Jensen.  First, I really enjoyed your and Y/N’s performance last night at the concert.”

A huge smile settled on Jensen’s face, as well as yours you realized. He shyly gave her a warm “Thank you.”  

“So, can you tell us how you met Y/N?” she asked nervously, almost afraid that he wouldn’t answer it. He let out a laugh, Jared giving his ‘story time’ face and a big smile. Watching on the monitor in the green room, you could see form there the twinkle he got in his eye at the question, which in turn made you smile, yourself thinking back to that night.

“Well, let’s say I was a huge dork when it came to meeting Y/N,” drawing a laugh from the crowd, Jared piping in with an “It’s true, I was there!”, only to be met with a scoff from Jensen. “But seriously, it wasn’t my finest moment, but one that I’m really glad happened.”

Jared started in again, “So get this, Briana, Kim, Jen and I walk into a café…”

“First of all, that sounds like the set up to a really bad joke…” Jensen cut in, only getting an exaggerated shrug from Jared. He continued, “It’s true, it does. So Briana invited us to an open mic night a few weeks back, where Y/N happened to be performing. She also happened to do an acoustic version of ‘Brother’, which let me tell you, after the first word, I was done for.”

There was a collective ‘aw’ from the crowd while your smile was still sitting on your lips, Jared gave Jensen a sappy puppy dog face, Jensen smiling ear to ear. “And can I tell y’all a secret…”, Jensen waited until the crowd quieted down, “…she’s bakes.” You let out a laugh at that one, along with Rob and Richard. “You bake? Really?” Rob and Rich both asked you, damn near in unison.

You looked at them surprised. “Uhh…yes?” Stifling a laugh, “I’m a pastry chef, stop by the café sometime.”

They looked at each other and then back to you with Rich continuing, “Can you uh…bring cookies sometime?” both of them with big dopey grins on their faces. “Sure guys,” you said with a laugh. “Sweet!” they said, once again in unison, resulting in a face palm from you over their unintended pun.

You heard Jensen and Jared still on the subject of your meeting each other. “Really? That’s the secret?” Jared questioned, looking squarely at Jensen, his expression saying there was more to be said. “I mean…the lesser sappy part of the secret…?” Now it was Jensen’s turn to give an exaggerated shrug. “Go on,” coaxed Jared with about ninety percent of the crowd.

“Ok, ok, ok. She really is a baker, I wasn’t lying about that,” the smile on his face so bright. What could he possibly say after this? There’s nothing secret to tell about me…or us? “Y’all know that author…uhh…you know, romantic guy…Mandy Moore was in the movie?” Jensen asked, mainly to the audience. “Nicholas Sparks!” the fans answered back. “Yeah! That guy. Well, that night at the café, when Y/N came over to our table after she was done, that was our meet cute, our Nicolas Sparks movie moment. The entire café faded away as soon as she smiled at me, I knew right then that she was something special.”

All you could do was stare at the monitor. “Y/N…?” You couldn’t tell whether it was Rob or Rich who talked, all you could think about was that night, the moment that he just told eight hundred people about. Ohmygod. He felt the same thing I did? “Y/N??” It was Rob. “Hmm?” you absently replied, eyes still glued to the screen, not entirely sure if your heart was still beating or if you were even breathing.

You jumped at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Y/N, it’s ok, it’s just me,” Rob said softly. “You ok? We need to go out and wrap up their panel,” you finally managed to tear your eyes away from the screen. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine,” a smile finding its way to your lips.

The guys went out to play the song signaling the last question while Jared went out to the crowd to find the lucky lady. After the question and all of the antics that generally come with the last question, Rob, Rich and the rest of the band played the guys off the stage. You took that as your cue to stand up to make your way to where they would be coming in, being greeted by Jensen and Jared laughing at something, not sure what the subject was.

As soon as Jensen’s eyes fell on you, he could sense that your demeanor had changed, despite the smile that was still settled on your lips. Jensen walked over to you, rested a hand on your hip and cupped your cheek with the other, “Y/N, what is it?” All you could do was look into his eyes, those bright emerald gems, right into his soul. “I’m happy. For the first time in a really long time, I’m happy. I mean I feel it deep down in my heart. And I…I…am about to sound ridiculously sappy.”

Jensen kept his gaze on you, waiting for you to finish. “I felt it too, that ‘Nicolas Sparks’ moment you talked about, that night in the café. I thought I was crazy, that it was just post performing adrenaline or being star struck. But, now I realize that I wasn’t crazy.” You were rambling, giving in to your nervous habit, but before you could keep going, Jensen had cut you off with a kiss. A kiss so deep and passionate, it actually took your breath away.

Given the fact that you were standing in the green room, which wasn’t exactly private, neither of you let the kiss get too out of hand. Jared gave a friendly cough, to announce that he was still standing there, “Uhh guys, we are standing in a hotel, with rooms, that each of you have,” clearly trying not to laugh. “Shut up Jar,” you and Jensen said in unison, still not breaking his gaze. “I’m happy too, Y/N.”

Tags: @maralisa124 @somilotopia @delightfullykrispypeach @steffiemeheus @lizwinchester16 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mystrie @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @cats-are-untrustworthy @superromijn @gifsforgomez @sherlock44 @life-through-the-lenss @1233088 @fandomloveyeah

[florahecate]

Read More A Beginner’s Guide to Intuitive Eating

The following post A Beginner’s Guide to Intuitive Eating is republished from Eat This Not That by Jen Yoder-Clevidence

Imagine the following scenario: You are at the office, and a co-worker brings in an assortment of cookies and baked goods for all to enjoy. It’s 3 p.m., you’ve been working hard all day, and you eye a beautiful chocolate chip cookie. Almost immediately, your inner food critic dialogue kicks in thinking, “But cookies are full of sugar and fat,” “It’s not my cheat day,” “If I eat this cookie, I’m going to gain weight,”and worst of all, “If I eat this cookie that means I’m being bad.”

You resist eating the cookie, walk back to your office, still thinking about the cookie, but are determined not to give in to the craving. It’s now 3:15 p.m., you find yourself searching your office drawers for your stash of low-calorie rice cakes, munch on a few, then munch on more. By the time 3:18 p.m. rolls around, the package is gone. You sneak around the corner to your office mates’ candy jar and grab a few pieces while making friendly conversation. By the time 3:23 p.m. rolls around, you find yourself back in the office kitchen, reaching for the chocolate chip cookie, and by the time 3:25 p.m. strikes, the cookie is gone and an insurmountable wave of guilt and shame rolls in because you caved and let yourself eat the chocolate chip cookie.

Now, imagine a different scenario. You see the delicious assortment of baked goods in the staff kitchen, the chocolate chip cookie seems truly satisfying, you pick one up and take it to a relaxing location that is not your office, sit down to enjoy the taste, texture, and flavors of the cookie, and once you are satisfied, you walk back to your office to finish the rest of the workday.

Which scenario do you identify with the most? If you identify with the first scenario, you are not alone. It’s estimated that about half of US adults are on a diet for weight loss purposes. If the second scenario sounded more appealing to you, then exploring intuitive eating might be right for you.

Here, learn more about intuitive eating, its 10 basic principles, and if it’s right for you.

What is intuitive eating?

Intuitive eating is an evidence-based, mind-body health approach that was created by two registered dietitians, Evelyn Tribole and Elyse Resch, in 1995. Intuitive eating is comprised of 10 principles, which serve to either cultivate or remove obstacles to interoceptive awareness, or one’s own ability to be in tune with body cues. Intuitive eating is very much a personal process, and no two individuals will experience intuitive eating the same. The underlying rationale behind it is eating when you are hungry, stopping when you are full, eating foods that truly satisfy, having unconditional permission to eat, and managing emotions without using food. Doing so allows your body to naturally adjust to its intended weight, and when you eat foods that are truly satisfying, you will naturally gravitate toward a varied and nutritionally balanced diet.

What are the basic principles?

Critics of intuitive eating warn that if we all started to eat whatever we wanted when we wanted, we would lose all form of self-control and nutrition principles would fly out the window. What critics tend to miss is that intuitive eating is much more nuanced than eating what you want whenever you want it, which is why there are 10 guiding principles to intuitive eating to help us along the way.

Principle 1: Rejecting the Diet Mentality

This principle gets to the heart of the matter and addresses the dangers of dieting. Right from the start, you are asked to get rid of any diet tools you are holding on to, and to let go of the pursuit of weight loss. In order to fully embrace intuitive eating, decisions about what foods to eat, when, and how much must be dictated by internal cues rather than external cues. If weight loss is the ultimate goal, food choices will be driven by external cues.

Principle 2: Honor Your Hunger

This is the first step toward re-establishing interoceptive awareness. Here, you are told to eat when you are hungry, which may be different from what you’ve learned when dieting, especially if you were told you needed to ‘earn’ the right to eat (which meant only eating when you were completely famished and ravenous with hunger). With practice, intuitive eaters become very skilled at being able to distinguish between polite hunger, taste hunger, emotional hunger, and there’s even something known as practical hunger. Honoring hunger is introduced early in the process, as it’s an essential piece to reconnecting the mind with body cues.

Principle 3: Making Peace with Food

This helps you begin to make peace with food—all foods. In this intuitive eating principle, you will be asking yourself a lot of questions about how and why you label foods as either “good” or “bad.” In a systematic way, you will slowly navigate your way through debunking myths behind why certain foods have become off limits, why you believe you cannot trust yourself around these foods, and eventually you will be asked to incorporate these foods back into your eating routine. Some people find they benefit from additional support during this step, and seeking guidance from an experienced professional can be a great way to safely practice this step.

Principle 4: Challenge the Food Police

This principle often gets folks riled up because it’s all about pushing back and challenging your own thoughts. During this principle, you will most likely be stirring up old memories from early childhood that perhaps you haven’t thought about for decades. Food rules are often passed down by well-meaning family members, and in order to take inventory of the food rules that no longer serve you, it’s necessary to do some deeper work here. You will also learn about the different types of “food voices” you might be challenged with, like the nutrition informant who reminds you of calorie counts and grams of added sugar. You will also learn how to turn unhelpful internal dialogue into helpful, nurturing messages.

Principle 5: Respect Your Fullness

This one does not immediately follow principle 2 as you might expect. That is because it is much easier to recognize when you are hungry and to eat when hungry, and a bit more challenging to recognize the different levels of fullness and actually stop eating when you’ve reached that comfortably full level. Here, again, we find well-intentioned family food rules coming into play—if you grew up with the expectation that you must eat every single last speck of food off your plate before you were allowed to leave the table or have dessert, this principle may take time to undo that hardwired habit.

Principle 6: Discover the Satisfaction Factor

This is probably one of the most fundamental principles of the entire concept of intuitive eating. When we choose food based on flavor, taste, texture, aroma, and not based on fat grams or calories, the eating experience is more satisfying, and we are actually likely to eat less food in the long run. During this principle, you will be asked to consider motivations behind food selection, and you will be asked to go on a sensory journey with your food choices, reconnecting with all of the different complexities of foods that are truly satisfying to you. You might also find yourself being pleasantly surprised to find that previously off-limit foods are actually not that satisfying at all!

Principle 7: Honor Your Feelings Without Using Food

This requires you to expand your current toolbox of emotional coping mechanisms. For many adults, when faced with an emotionally stimulating situation, food is used as a solution to self-soothe. This makes perfect sense for those who were raised in families where food was used as a reward or as a comforting proxy for upset feelings. In this principle, you will learn how to better identify and label your emotions, learn how to sit with uncomfortable emotions, and learn how to manage emotions in productive ways rather than silencing them with food. It is often at this point in the process that some people recognize they would benefit from additional support to help address past traumas.

Principle 8: Respect Your Body

This principle of intuitive eating is all about getting into the habit of addressing your body with kindness and respect, and recognizing that it has continued to show up for you, despite years of body abuse from dieting. The authors and creators of intuitive eating are very intentional about emphasizing the fact that in order to take care of something, you must respect it first. Respecting your body does not require you to fully accept it the way it is, but it does help you see all the wonder your body does.

Principle 9: Exercise—Feel the Difference

This helps readers debunk exercise-related myths and broadens the idea of exercise into general movement. When we move our bodies for enjoyment rather than for weight loss purposes, we are much more motivated to move more often during the day. Many chronic dieters have an adverse reaction to the term “exercise,” so this principle requires a gentle reframing of what movement can look like. You will rediscover the types of movement that bring your body joy, that lifts your mood, and makes you actually look forward to that activity.

Principle 10: Honor Your Health—Gentle Nutrition

This principle is saved until the very end so that the intuitive eating concept doesn’t fall under the diet category. In this principle, concepts of nutrition science are discussed; however, one does not need to get caught up in the nutrition minutiae, because the evidence shows that when you are eating intuitively, you will naturally gravitate toward a more nutritionally balanced way of eating. Yes, nutrition really can be that simple!

What are the health benefits of intuitive eating?

To date, there have been over 90 studies investigating the benefits of intuitive eating. Individuals who score higher on the Intuitive Eating Scale benefit physically, psychologically, and emotionally.

To summarize, intuitive eaters, across all age groups, genders, and ethnicities have the following in common:

Lower body mass index (BMI)

Lower triglycerides

Higher HDL (the “good” cholesterol)

Higher self-esteem, well-being, optimism, body appreciation and acceptance, proactive coping skills, psychological hardiness, unconditional self-regard, pleasure from eating, and eating a variety of foods

Less internalized ideal of being thin, eating disorders, emotional eating, and self-silencing

Critics of intuitive eating warn that if you eat whatever you want, whenever you want, you will lose all sense of control and will not feel motivated to eat a nutritionally adequate or balanced diet. However, quite the opposite is true! A 2006 study found that intuitive eaters ate a more diverse diet without turning to junk food, took more pleasure in their eating, and ate a healthier diet than those who did not eat intuitively.

RELATED: These are the easy, healthy, at-home recipes you’ll love.

Is there anyone who shouldn’t try intuitive eating?

Intuitive Eating has been proven beneficial and effective globally in children, adolescents, adults, and in people with different chronic diseases such as diabetes. The key point to keep in mind is that intuitive eating is very much a personal process. As an example, someone in the early stages of recovery from an eating disorder may not be ready to rely on hunger or fullness cues, but they can start working on other principles such as challenging the food police and respecting their bodies.

How can someone get started with intuitive eating?

Fortunately, there are loads of great resources for those who are interested in getting started with intuitive eating! You can get yourself a copy of the Intuitive Eating book and accompanying workbook. There are online support groups and in-person support groups popping up all over the world. You can also find a certified intuitive eating counselor in your area, and some even provide virtual coaching.

Is this an effective way to lose weight?

The authors of intuitive eating make it very clear from the beginning that intuitive eating is NOT a weight loss program, and that in order to fully embrace intuitive eating, weight loss goals must be put on the back burner or else food choices will be made with the motivation for weight loss and not with the motivation for satisfaction. A 2012 study shows that individuals who score higher on the Intuitive Eating Scale tend to have lower BMIs. This suggests that people who eat in response to hunger and satiety cues have unconditional permission to eat and cope with emotions without using food, and they are less likely to engage in eating behaviors that lead to weight gain. However, most individuals who embark on the intuitive eating journey quickly realize that the benefits gained go so far beyond weight loss, that weight loss soon becomes a non-issue.

The post A Beginner’s Guide to Intuitive Eating appeared first on Eat This Not That.

[afirewasinmyhead]

💌 hello

Remember I said I'd make a post letting you know that I was taking a break from tumblr again? *sweats nervously* I never anticipate staying away for long but then I realize how much I need all that extra headspace that tumblr tends to eat up. I’m okay, though! I’m getting by alright.

Below is just a small life recap.

I cut my hair! I'd been growing it out since 2012 with the intention of donating it and by this spring it was hip-length – I could practically sit on it. I wanted to make sure I still had some decent length after donating 12+ inches of hair because I've never had hair shorter than shoulder-length so I knew I wasn't ready for THAT big a change. To be honest, it actually wasn't as jarring as I expected. It was a literal weight off my shoulders. I'm glad it went to a good cause, but it was also a lesson in letting go for me.

Jen came to visit me in May!!! Her first time at my place and first time in Canada. We had a lovely week despite the cold and the rain. Her flight home was cancelled due to the weather so we got to spend an extra day together, which ended up being a wonderful surprise. :')

I applied for and got a temp position at the local library facilitating their new extended hours and running a French/English homework club. The homework club had super low attendance, which was disappointing, but the people I worked with were very kind and it was a good experience (and résumé booster, heh).

I GRADUATED UNIVERSITY??? At first I didn't feel very proud of myself because I know I could have worked harder and some things I outright neglected, but I think I've come to terms with it. My experience isn't anyone else’s but my own and I learned valuable things and grew a lot as a person. And I still have growing to do. That's the most comforting thing. (I'm currently funemployed, as a friend of a friend put it, so the Real Life Job search begins... gulp.)

Those are the "important" things, but also:

I've been visited several times by my neighbour's incredibly soft and friendly cat who I consider one of my best friends. She purrs when I scritch behind her ears. I am blessed.

I've watched Moana four times since it's been added to Netflix and have cried every. single. time. (The soundtrack is also amazing, especially this song.)

I made some real yummy food: this soup, these cookies, and a "winter salad" that I concocted myself that people seem to like, which makes me super happy.

I made a playlist for one of Jen's OCs and it's become a go-to for me because the first track instantly puts me at ease and there are plenty self-love anthems.

I hope anyone reading this is having a good day. ♡ And if you’re not, that you can find the time to do something nice for yourself. Have a glass of water, step outside, breathe some fresh air and know I’m sending you good vibes. Thank you for following my little blog. (ɔ ˘◡˘)˘◡˘ c)

[georgiapeach30513]

The cookies win again I don’t know about the second part. But I do have a feeling on something else I’m going wait patiently though.//

this why I love you blog, listen every morning I say “let’s what on Jen news today” you hold a special in daily my life 🫶🏼

�� today was such an odd day for me 😂

You never know what the cookie jar will bring. Good news. Ehh news. Annoying news. But, the strike being over is good news. Now, let’s gear up for Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

[glass-closet]

Italian Anon’s submission

J2 SIGHTING @ the CASINO after AHBL8 made me really happy bc it tells us so many wonderful things: 1- After days stuck together at the con J2 again choose to spend their free time together, and I’d like to remind us that Jen has told that he’s not much into gambling, so he’s basically there to be with Jar! 2- I can’t help but think that Jen appearing out of nowhere when the fan decided to walk up to Jar and politely stopping them (cit. “grabbing…”) was Jen purposely playing interference: why? Maybe so the fan wouldn’t disturb him when he was focused on the game, maybe not to leave  him alone to face a fan in a non controlled environment if he was feeling tense/anxious for some reason. Anyway, I think once again Jen was taking care of Jar!  3- I think gambling is a waste of money, potentially addictive, unless it’s poker or black jack bc those require skill: I’m happy we got an outside  confirmation that Jar is successfully using his great math skills for black jack! He’s a smart cookie, indeed ;) And can I just point out the obvious and say that it’s so rare to find in the same person both a strong logical/analytical side, shown by Jared’s math skills, and a strong emphatic side that we all know and cherish and that also allows Jared to be a great actor!! I’m just sorry that these gifts from nature come with a side of anxiousness and depression :( I guess  this turned into a Jared Appreciation Post ^_^“, and the whole thing got kinda too long… hope you don’t mind my rambling, but I just love sharing my thoughts with such a wonderful listener as yourself!! - Italian Anon

Hello, dear Italian anon!

Isn’t it wonderful to see the J’s out and about together? They obviously had the “excuse” to do so by working together over the weekend, but even then seeing them hang out openly is a treat these days.

Isn’t it funny that the fan story of Jensen stepping in before she reached Jared says that she didn’t even notice Jensen before? That just speaks volumes of how insanely good Jensen is at being stealthy. He was wearing a black cap and a hoodie, probably trying to avoid attention and just waiting on Jared like a good husband. ;)

Can you imagine his patience? The fan said she and her friend were watching Jared play for nearly three hours and they didn’t see Jensen at all during that time? Obviously he could’ve been strolling around, having drinks, taking pics with those couple of fans and such, but still! Gambling is Jared’s thing and I imagine Jensen could’ve been pretty bored if he stayed there all night. But what wouldn’t he do for his boy? :)

it’s so rare to find in the same person both a strong logical/analytical side, shown by Jared’s math skills, and a strong emphatic side 

You are so right, friend. Jared is such a unique man - intelligent, kind and sensitive. I’m constantly in awe of both of the J’s dazzling personalities and the dynamics of their relationship! Neither of them is perfect, but damn are they lovable. I just have such a hard time even trying to imagine a better fit than they are. They’re just... perfect together.

By the way, did you notice the new ring on Jensen? I guess good things really do come to those who wait. ;) Oh, and Jared and Jensen appreciation posts are always welcome here! I hope your week is treating you well, sweet anon. :) Thank you for messaging me, it’s always nice to hear from you!

[writingevil]

Tidal Wave of Sound

By E.L.B

The gentle sound of the piano flowed through the coffee shop and Jen tried not to stare at the pianist. Someone rang the bell at the front of the counter and Jen reluctantly forced a smile on her face. She continued glancing at the pianist while making the person's coffee. 

“Jen!” Courtney, her best friend, and coworker ran through the front of the door. “Can you please cover my shift tonight? Micheals scheduled a last minute three-page essay.”

Jen smiled softly. “Sure. Leave the document open and when I get home I’ll edit it, okay?”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” Courtney sighed.

Jen laughed and began to quickly make Courtney’s favorite drink. “It’s no problem.”

Courtney relaxed a bit and looked around the cafe before stopping on the pianist playing at the front of the shop. “Oh, is that why you agreed?” she said with a smirk.

Jen blushed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Get her number already.” Courtney teased.

“Hush it.”

“You should ask to play cello with her one night,” Courtney said playing with a card laying on the counter. “I’m sure the boss won’t mind.”

“Take your coffee and leave. Don’t you have a paper to write?” Jen said.

Courtney took her coffee and smirked at Jen before walking over to the Pianist and laying a piece of paper on the piano before slipping a dollar into the tip jar. Jen groaned and flipped Courtney off as she walked out the door. 

After an hour Jen was taking out cookies from the oven when the bell went off. She sighed and took off the oven mitts before walking through the door to see the pianist shyly checking out the menu.

“What can I get you?” Jen said with a soft smile.

“Um I’ll take a hot chocolate with whipped cream,” she said softly. Her voice was like music to Jen’s ears. 

Jen quickly made her best hot chocolate ever. “Wait here,” she said startling the pianist. She walked through the door at the back of the counter. She came out holding a still warm cookie and gave it to the pianist. “On the house, it’s the least I can do for the girl who fills my shifts with such beautiful music.”

“I- Thank you.” She blushed and lowered her face grabbing the chocolate and cookie before heading to the table next to the piano.

There rested a folded piece of paper on the counter and Jen opened it to two sets of handwriting.

Piano Girl! My friend, the barista, thinks you’re really cute but is too lame to say anything. She plays the cello. Do you think you two could do a duet on Friday?  Barista on Tuesday and Friday Nights

Blue haired Barista, I would love to perform with you on Friday. If you want to know my set list text me **********. Diana

Jen covered her face and blushed hard moving into the back room and furiously texting Courtney.

J- You can edit your paper yourself I hate you.

C- Haha. 

J- UGHHH her name is Diana.

C- pretty. Are you hiding right now?

J-Obv 

J- she’s playing again I can go back out now. 

C- love yah

J- fuck 

J- you

For the rest of the night, Jen awkwardly made coffee and blushed whenever Diana caught her looking. When she finally got home she took out the paper and typed the number into her phone.

J- Hi, I’m Jen the awkward barista.

D- The one with great hot chocolate skills.

J- Eh. Sub par hot chocolate skills

And so began the romance. Jen and Diana discussed music, the coffee shop, dumb shows, jobs, Majors, and so much more. 

D- You’re an English major? Wow, I would not have pegged you as that.

J- Yeah I’m mostly done with my major just surfing out these last few months in creative writing classes.

D- wow. I’m just a music major. I want to write music.

J- you’d be good at that :)

Friday got closer and closer and Jen practiced cello every night. She and Diana had gotten too awkward flirting and Courtney was taking credit. She dressed in slacks a white button up and a black tie on Friday afternoon before waiting for Courtney so they could ride to the cafe. Her gigantic case stuffed into the back of the car.

She made Courtney help her carry the instrument in and greeted Diana with a gentle hug. 

“You ready?” Diana asked sitting at the grand Piano as Jen sat in a chair with the cell between her legs. 

Jen nodded and the two began playing, lighting the small cafe up with the beautiful music. Jen found herself enjoying every minute and not noticing as time flew by. Her fingers and arm moved in time with Diana’s. She moved with the music and felt it meld with Diana’s piano. She didn’t notice as tips were placed in the jar and didn’t notice the passing of time until Courtney rasped on the piano.

“Take a break you two. We close in an hour.” She pointed to two mugs on a table.

The two musicians sheepishly sat at the table. The sipped their drinks quietly before Diana set hers on the table.

“I was waiting for you to ask but um would you like to go on a date with me next Saturday?” She blurted out.

Jen smiled and laughed. “Only if you go on a date with me Monday.”

A shout came from the back room, “FINALLY!”

[hellogreenweb]

Family History Through Food

Nothing goes together quite like food and family. Traditions, moments, loved ones, memories, seasons and more can be remembered through tasting a dish your Great Grandma would make every Thanksgiving or a breakfast dish your dad would make every Saturday morning. Family history whether written, spoken, recorded or tasted can be tangible through food – no better way to cement memories and build bridges than through something that we must do day in and day out! Whether that be around a small counter top or a large dining room table we know that daily nourishment can mean a lot more than just filling up our stomachs.

Today we are featuring some amazing food bloggers who are sharing some of their favorite family recipes, not only because they taste wonderful, but because of the special memories they hold for each of them. Read on to find out why they love these recipes and the memories and goodness each recipe holds for them. And lucky for us, the recipes are included!

Jen Sattley @carlsbadcravings

 Every Fall growing up, us 5 kids (and all the neighbors, family, friends and anyone else blessed enough to be a recipient of Mom’s pumpkin bread) would eagerly await the arrival of pumpkin cans lining grocery store shelves so mom could make her famous Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread.  The house would fill with the magical Fall aroma of pumpkin and cinnamon and we knew it was going to be a magically delicious day.  But mom wouldn’t just make one loaf, but three beautiful Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread loafs.  We would devour as much as we were allowed and the rest would be gifted to neighbors and friends.  And then she would make more.  My very favorite memory of Fall.

This recipe for Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread is over 50 years old.  It comes from my mom’s brother’s elementary teacher who sent home homemade pumpkin bread and the recipe to all the children in his class.  With just a few adjustments by my mom over the years to make it perfect, this Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread has stood the test of time against any other pumpkin bread recipe.  In my opinion, it is simply the best!  So get ready to be loved, adored and applauded for your “famous” supremely moist, Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread riddled with chocolate chips, Fall spices and new memories to share.

Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread

INGREDIENTS

Bowl One

6 eggs

4 cups granulated sugar

1 29 oz. can pure pumpkin

1 cup Vegetable oil

Bowl Two

4 1/2 cups AP flour

1 tablespoon baking soda

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cloves

1 1/2 teaspoons ground nutmeg

add later:

2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (or half chocolate chunks)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Grease and flour three 8 1/2” x 4 ½” loaf pans or use a cooking spray with flour in it.

In a very large bowl, add eggs and gently whisk. Mix in sugar, pumpkin and oil.

In a separate large bowl, mix together all Bowl Two ingredients (don’t add chocolate chips).

Mix the Flour Mixture into the Pumpkin mixture just until combined, being careful not to overmix. Fold in chocolate chips. Evenly divide batter between 3 loaf pans.

Bake at 325 degrees F for 65 – 75 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean. Let bread cool on wire rack for 10 minutes then remove bread from pans. Let bread cool completely on wire rack before slicing.

Store bread in an airtight container for up to 5 days.

Brooke Eliason @femalefoodie

One of my favorite family recipes comes from my beautiful maternal grandmother, Sayo Black. Because of her Japanese heritage, we have called her “Grandma Japanese” since my siblings and I were young kids. We love her ability to cook and share parts of her asian culture and, although this fried rice recipe isn’t an authentic Japanese dish, she has always been willing to prepare this family favorite throughout the years. She often makes double or triple batches of her fried rice for large family gatherings and jokingly comments “I’m cooking for an army”!

As a family, we have enjoyed this recipe on Christmas Eve, as a stand-alone meal, for leftovers (which we fought over relentlessly as children), or served inside an omelet for breakfast. I love that when I make this fried rice I am reminded of the great times I have shared with my Grandma Japanese as she thoughtfully chopped fresh vegetables, cooked each ingredient one at a time, and always let me have the first taste.

 Fried Rice

7 cups cooked sticky Japanese (pearl) rice, cooled completely (see tips below) 1/2 cup chopped onion (yellow or white) 1/2 lb chopped ham (about 1 1/2 cups or two thick deli slices) 2 cups cabbage, sliced thin 4 tablespoons butter, separated 2 tablespoons vegetable oil salt pepper soy sauce 1/2 bunch green onions, chopped white and green parts

Using a large non stick pan, cook each of the vegetables, separately, in a small amount of oil and butter. I use about 1 teaspoon for each vegetable/meat. Salt and pepper each vegetable. Transfer to a bowl or plate after the vegetables and meat have been cooked one at a time. It’s OK to let the vegetables and meat inter-mingle at this point. After cooking all of the vegetables and meat, add about 2 tablespoons of butter to the Teflon pan. Over medium heat, add the cooked and cooled rice a little at a time, breaking apart clumps with two wooden spoons until the rice is evenly distributed in the pan, and the butter is mixed in well. Add all of the vegetables and meat to the rice. Toss lightly in pan. Season again with fresh ground pepper. Add the soy sauce, a little at a time. We don’t like to drown the rice in soy sauce, so I only use about 2-3 tablespoons to 7 cups of rice. Taste, add salt and more pepper, if desired. After heated through, add fresh chopped green onions. Turn the heat off. If you continue to leave the heat on, your beautiful fried rice will end up as gummy rice.

Tips: -Make sure the rice is cooked and cooled completely before starting to make fried rice. It is best to make the rice the day before. If you use hot rice when making fried rice, your dish will turn out to be a sticky, gluey mess. -Make sure to use Japanese, or pearl rice, which is short and plump, not a long grain rice. -When “mixing” the rice and other ingredients together, do not stir this like it’s a cake batter- toss the ingredients, like you would a salad.

Becky http://ift.tt/1dSJQk2

I grew up on homemade hot cocoa. Every year my mom would get out the biggest bowl that she owned and we would dump in a few simple ingredients. Then, she’d let my sister and I have turns with a giant whisk, stirring, while also creating a little cloud of cocoa around us. Once it was made all we needed was a cup of hot water and we could mix this in for a quick treat. Also, on occasion, more frequently than I’d like to admit, we would just sneak straight bites of the powdery cocoa mix, only to be found out by our coughing and laughing.

Last year, I created my own hot cocoa mix recipe so that year after year I could replicate this sweet memory with my kids. We enjoy it with a big homemade marshmallow on top or just on its own, always with warm cosy feelings inside and gratitude for foods passed down from generations.

Homemade Hot Coco Mix Recipe

Ingredients

8 ounces organic cacao, or unsweetened cocoa

16 ounces organic powdered sugar

16 ounces non-fat dry milk powder

Instructions

Add all ingredients to a large bowl and use a whisk to combine. Transfer to a large jar to store. This will last a couple months in a dry cool area.

To make hot cocoa: Add 1/2 to 1 cup of hot water* to 1/2 cup of hot cocoa mix. Whisk to combine.

Recipe Notes

You must use hot water to adequately melt the chocolate into a liquid. If servings kids, mix the cocoa with hot water then add an ice cube to cool it down.

Mel @melskitchencafe

I was very close to my paternal grandmother, Venice Walker, as a child, even though my family lived hundreds of miles away from where my grandmother lived (Rexburg, Idaho). Whenever she and my grandpa would come visit us in Texas or Oklahoma, she would inevitably plan an afternoon to make my dad his favorite treat on the whole planet: raisin filled cookies. I have to be honest, they are probably my LEAST favorite cookies ever (mostly because: where’s the chocolate??) and you’ll never find a recipe for them on my blog (sorry, grams), but my grandma would labor over these cookies! They took forever. A homemade sweet dough was made and rolled out and then cut into circles, creating a sandwich for the homemade raisin filling. Because I loved being around my calm, quiet, kind, always-listening grandma, I would immediately join her in the kitchen to help (bonus, she didn’t have to worry about me snitching the dough or the filling because I didn’t like the cookies!); I probably spent at least half my childhood making raisin filled cookies with my sweet grandma! And I loved every minute.

I can still remember from a very young age watching my grandma in the kitchen (hers or ours) making creamy peas and new potatoes, whole wheat bread, raisin filled cookies, or canning chili sauce. She was an unassuming, hardworking, resilient woman who quietly moved through life serving others and often showing her love to others by making and giving them her homemade food. Even more remarkable, my grandmother suffered from very poor health after she had a stroke when she was in her early 30’s (with many small children of her own to care for). Standing for long periods of time was hard, and she often had debilitating back pain and would sit in the kitchen waiting for her bread to rise or her jars to finish canning while laying back in her plastic lawn chair with a rag over her eyes to block the light. But she never stopped cooking…and serving. And to this day, even though she is no longer here, I know without a doubt that my desire to share good food (and recipes!) with my loved ones (and strangers!) is because of the example my grandma set for me. It was nothing she sat down and taught me, nothing she directly said…just a cumulation of all the thousands of sweet moments I observed and remembered.

One of her most famous concoctions was her jarred chili sauce. It’s not salsa. It’s not spaghetti sauce. It’s not jam. No, no! It’s a zesty, spicy, sweet, chunky blend that is ridiculously delicious eaten over eggs (my favorite!) or yes, even with tortilla chips. The recipe has been oft-made, much-loved, and greatly cherished. Every year I make a batch of this chili sauce, even though I’m the only one in my immediate family right now who eats it, mostly because the process and smells and work and finished satisfaction remind me of my grandma, and those memories are precious and sweet to me.

 Grandma Walker’s Chili Sauce

 8 quarts tomatoes, peeled

6 large onions, ground

3/4 quart vinegar

3 cups sugar

3 red peppers, ground

1 teaspoon cloves

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 tablespoon allspice

2/3 tablespoon salt

Cook in microwave (I do it on the stove now). Not written: Simmer sauce for an hour. Can in steam or water bath for 15 minutes.

Thank you to these women for sharing a little more of their family heart and these delicious recipes we can’t wait to try! Now you can get sharing your own stories. We love these resources offered by Family Search on how you can create or carry on your own food traditions and share those food stories! This article shares why it’s so important and how food can pull families together, this site is full of resources to help you get started and this site helps you share those stories with others. Thank you to Family Search for all of these great resources and to these women for sharing a piece of their family with us!

Family History Through Food posted first on http://ift.tt/2ulDYg7

[lovelyirony]

91. “I only ever thought there were two kinds of love: The kind you would kill for, and the kind you would die for…but you, my darling, you were the kind of love I would live for.” sharon/bucky

As Bucky is running away from government agents trying to snipe him for killing a politician, he supposes Natasha’s argument for him being suicidal might have the tiniest bit evidence behind it, which he previously argued it didn’t. 

As he slides underneath a car, he debates whether or not she’ll find out about this one. He feels a buzz from his phone in his pocket. 

Yeah, she knows. 

He shoots one of the agents, nicking him in the knee. Oof, that’s gonna be a fun story to tell his grandkids about why they can’t climb on his lap. But he needs to get away, and that involves potentially shooting through a car. 

Potentially turns into definitely and there’s enough of a distraction that he can commandeer a car, drive at least ten blocks away, and ditch it to run on foot, calling Natasha. 

“You got my location, right?” 

“Of course, you fucking idiot,” Natasha curses. “You...god I hate you sometimes. The job’s at least done, right?” 

“Yeah. I’ll have to lay low, though. Which sucks because my apartment is right in the city.” 

“I already have a punishment and idea for you in one.” 

“I...what is it?” 

“Sam’s picking you up. Tell you when you get to base. Bye.” 

Bucky groans. 

She must be really pissed at him. 

Sam picks him up in the shittiest economy car in the world. 

“I hate you for picking this one,” Bucky groans. 

“A stupid decision grants a stupid car, that’s why you’re getting picked up in the 1995 Ford Fiesta of shame,” Sam says. “Nat’s real mad. And I also think you’re going to hate your next assignment.” 

Bucky’s not sure what’s gonna happen. He’s hoping he’s not on latrine duty. 

- 

Oh, it’s so much worse. 

“Protection detail?” Bucky asks. “And undercover? All at once? Nat, come on. I bet we don’t even need undercover.” 

"You both are doing undercover because you both fucked up,” Natasha says. “And since apparently you don’t know how to act, maybe this will get you better lessons.” 

“Cold,” Sam hisses. 

“I will legally ask you to shut the fuck up,” Bucky growls out. 

He packs his things. Realizes that Sam got to choose the name so his name is Roger Stevens. Fucking shit. (Steve, of course, approved this. Because Steve is an asshole.) 

“Why does she even need a protector?” Bucky growls out, driving to the house. It’s in suburbia. 

“Because she fucked up and whoever she pissed off might send more than she can handle,” Natasha says. 

“We’re hinging my being here on a ‘maybe’?” 

“And because you got caught by government agents, which would be a rookie move,” Natasha says. “There’s a reason that I can still go my same nail salon for five years and now you have to get your hair cut somewhere else. And why you got a wedding china set and you have a backstory of being married.” 

“I hate you.” 

“A lot of people do, take a number.” 

If it helps (and it mostly doesn’t), Sharon Carter is also not happy. She is in the house with the most dangerous look Bucky has seen. 

“So I’m stuck in this fucking hell house with him?” Sharon asks. 

Maria Hill is her boss. Woman is a scary, competent human. Bucky wouldn’t cross her. 

(Then again, you also shouldn’t cross a certain redhead who could make you disappear within twenty minutes, maybe thirty if it’s a surprise. But he did.) 

“Keys are by the front door, hope you know your address! Bye!” Natasha says. “Don’t kill each other or we lose the deposit!” 

Maria Hill smiles. Of course the only time Bucky’s ever seen her smile is at the suffering of others. How typical. 

So then they are left alone. 

“Let’s read the cover story,” Sharon says. “And I don’t need protection, Maria’s just paranoid.” 

Bucky snorts. 

“Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.” 

Sharon sends him a sharp look. 

They meet while on a cruise. 

Bucky fucking hates his life. 

“A fucking cruise,” he mutters. “As if I would ever step foot onto any of those fucking--” 

“We had a beach wedding?!” Sharon cries out. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it!” 

They are both in a bad mood. 

It’s also awkward because this is a house. They have decorations. They have tea towels. 

And a neighbor comes to visit. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she says brightly. “My name is Karen Tent, so lovely to meet you both!” 

She then invades the house with her Tupperware. Literally speeds past them and it’s not like Sharon judo-chop her throat or anything. 

“What a lovely house you two have!” Karen cheers. “Of course the color palette is a little bit drab, but I’m sure you’ll change that soon enough. When Linda told me we had new neighbors, I could hardly believe it myself, but here you are! Now, how did you two meet? Have you married yet? If not, I hope that you are living apart, you know.” 

“The rings are in boxes,” Sharon answers smoothly, noting that they’ll need to ask Maria where the fuck the rings are. “You know how move-ins are. I’m Melanie Stevens, this is Roger Stevens. How nice to see you so very unexpectedly.” 

“Well, that’s what neighbors are for!” Karen answers, her voice shrill as ever. “I brought over my famous cookie bars. Everyone says they’re good, and I believe they always are. Tell me Melanie, what do you like baking most?” 

“Yes dear, tell her,” Bucky answers, smiling. “I seem to remember...lemon bars?” 

“That’s right,” Sharon says, sending Bucky a smile. “They are really good. Just delightful.” 

“Oh you’ll have to bring some over!” Karen responds. “Now, let me tell you a little bit about the neighborhood...” 

She talks for a fucking hour. Bucky wants to drink. So badly. He saw the wine on the counter. 

Sharon, to her credit, keeps trying to use certain “end” phrases. Karen either knows it and knows she won’t be budging, or will not ever take a hint in her lifetime. 

“And you simply must not ever play loud music in your backyard,” Karen says. “We’ve had a couple of problems with the Richardsons, but nothing a few calls won’t fix.” 

“You called the police?” Sharon asks. 

“Well yes!” 

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters. 

“I am sure that’s not exactly the measure I would have done,” Sharon says. “But I am tired and don’t want to get into it now,” she says quickly, noticing Karen’s “confused” expression. 

“I say we need some time to rest, today is gonna be a lot of moving,” he says. “So nice of you to stop by, Karen. I’ll return your dish as soon as possible.” 

Karen is ushered out the door, placated with two waves, and they both groan. 

“I’m gonna fucking hate everything after this,” Sharon mutters. “My name is fucking Melanie. Maria knows...” she trails off, facing the very real boxes that were obviously packed with dishes and miscellaneous items. 

Bucky finds four spatulas. He doesn’t know why there are four. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, noting the incredibly cheesy salt-and-pepper set. 

“Welcome to married life,” Sharon says sarcastically. “We’re gonna have a blast.” 

Dinner is spent with Sharon trying to convince Bucky that she’s “fine” and in “no danger” at all. 

“Who did you piss off?” 

“Sitwell.” 

“Oh my god. You’re screwed.” 

“He’s a lapdog, I’m not screwed.” 

“He’s the lapdog of Pierce. You’re screwed.” 

Sharon thunks her head on the table. 

“Can we at least repaint the bedrooms? They suck.” 

“If you think I’m sleeping in a separate room you’re dead wrong,” Bucky says. “You have a target the size of New York on your back. Uh-uh.” 

“You will sleep on the floor and get out when I shower or change,” Sharon threatens. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Then it’s settled.” 

Married life is not so bad. Except when Karen and the rest of the neighbors tend to visit or talk to them for about fifteen minutes on the lawn. 

“It’s your turn to cut the grass,” Sharon groans, flopping on the couch. “If I have to hear Kevin tell me one more time that you should be treating me better, I’m going to explode. He’s trying to lecture me on how to cut grass.” 

“On it,” Bucky says. “Your turn to go get groceries, I ran into Karen and her kid last time. I think she wants me to stop buying so much hummus.” 

“Not our fault it’s good,” Sharon mutters. 

- 

And then, of course, avoiding the various assassins that are sent out at random intervals and at public locations (including their own house) while convincing the neighbors that there’s nothing going on. 

This involves pretending an agent of Hydra is their cousin. 

“This is Jen, she’s visiting for the day!” Sharon says, squeezing “Jen’s” wrist hard enough to make her stay quiet. “We have so much to catch up on, you probably won’t see me or--or Roger again for the day! Ha ha!” 

“Well where’s her car?” Linda asks, looking around the neighborhood. “I don’t see anything...” 

“She’s a hippie environmentalist, she walked,” Bucky answers. “Jen, let’s go catch up in the house, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” the agent squeaks out sadly, knowing exactly what is going to happen. 

She’s delivered tied up in rope on the steps of Maria’s office with a note of “please stop this from happening we’re planting azaleas.” 

Maria snorts. 

Bucky starts to think they’re getting too attached to this. It’s been four months. 

He started a garden. They’re growing tomatoes. 

He also notices Sharon a little bit differently. 

Because she drags him out of bed. 

“Legally? You have to go to brunch with me. Illegally? You like the breakfast burrito too much.” 

She’s scarily competent with anything that could be classed as a weapon. Or their groceries. 

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky yells at her as she throws the jar of tomato sauce. “I am not cleaning that up!” 

“Tough shit!” Sharon answers, dodging a bullet. “It wasn’t even the good kind of tomato sauce!” 

“It was fine, sweetheart!” Bucky growls out. 

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me in the middle of a battle!” Sharon yells. “Strictly after!” 

“You’re the weirdest fucking married couple,” one of the agents wheezes out as Bucky is holding him as a sort of shield. 

“Thanks,” they say in unison, grinning. 

- 

The punishment for them both doesn’t exactly turn out as planned, both Natasha and Maria agree. In fact, it is almost worse. 

They are both reckless, subvert orders, and get along like a house on fire by the end of it. 

“You can still be together, we just need the house back,” Natasha says. 

“Thank god,” Bucky groans. “I get to stop being Roger and I get rid of Karen in one fell swoop.” 

Sharon untenses her shoulders while she’s sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Can I keep the knife set?” 

“No,” Maria says. “I’ll send you a link to where I got it.” 

“Why can’t I keep it if you can get another set?” 

“Steal it,” Bucky stage-whispers. Sharon grins back at him. 

“You have the best ideas, babe.” 

“You are not stealing anything,” Maria scowls. 

“Sure we aren’t,” Bucky says easily. 

“You stole my heart,” Sharon sing-songs, knowing damn well it’s going to make Maria barf. 

“Aw babe...” Bucky says, holding her hand. Natasha fake-retches. 

“I hate you both,” she declares. “And I won’t be there for your actual wedding.” 

“You made us tell people we had a wedding on a beach, were you assuming that you were getting an invitation?” Bucky asks. 

Sharon snickers, getting the last of her bags out into the car. 

“Where to now?” she asks him. 

“I think that there are some apartments we can look at...” 

- 

“We’ve made a collective monster,” Maria decides, blinking. “We Frankensteined this.” 

“We did,” Natasha says, staring at the house. There are still little bits of glass. An unfortunately busted can of beans where someone had been knocked out and they had “conveniently” forgotten to clean it up from yesterday. 

Well. Sharon and Bucky are going to cause havoc on the world. Maria and Natasha just hope they can cover the other while doing so. 

As Bucky is running away from government agents trying to snipe him for killing a politician, he supposes Natasha’s argument for him being suicidal might have the tiniest bit evidence behind it, which he previously argued it didn’t. 

As he slides underneath a car, he debates whether or not she’ll find out about this one. He feels a buzz from his phone in his pocket. 

Yeah, she knows. 

He shoots one of the agents, nicking him in the knee. Oof, that’s gonna be a fun story to tell his grandkids about why they can’t climb on his lap. But he needs to get away, and that involves potentially shooting through a car. 

Potentially turns into definitely and there’s enough of a distraction that he can commandeer a car, drive at least ten blocks away, and ditch it to run on foot, calling Natasha. 

“You got my location, right?” 

“Of course, you fucking idiot,” Natasha curses. “You...god I hate you sometimes. The job’s at least done, right?” 

“Yeah. I’ll have to lay low, though. Which sucks because my apartment is right in the city.” 

“I already have a punishment and idea for you in one.” 

“I...what is it?” 

“Sam’s picking you up. Tell you when you get to base. Bye.” 

Bucky groans. 

She must be really pissed at him. 

Sam picks him up in the shittiest economy car in the world. 

“I hate you for picking this one,” Bucky groans. 

“A stupid decision grants a stupid car, that’s why you’re getting picked up in the 1995 Ford Fiesta of shame,” Sam says. “Nat’s real mad. And I also think you’re going to hate your next assignment.” 

Bucky’s not sure what’s gonna happen. He’s hoping he’s not on latrine duty. 

- 

Oh, it’s so much worse. 

“Protection detail?” Bucky asks. “And undercover? All at once? Nat, come on. I bet we don’t even need undercover.” 

"You both are doing undercover because you both fucked up,” Natasha says. “And since apparently you don’t know how to act, maybe this will get you better lessons.” 

“Cold,” Sam hisses. 

“I will legally ask you to shut the fuck up,” Bucky growls out. 

He packs his things. Realizes that Sam got to choose the name so his name is Roger Stevens. Fucking shit. (Steve, of course, approved this. Because Steve is an asshole.) 

“Why does she even need a protector?” Bucky growls out, driving to the house. It’s in suburbia. 

“Because she fucked up and whoever she pissed off might send more than she can handle,” Natasha says. 

“We’re hinging my being here on a ‘maybe’?” 

“And because you got caught by government agents, which would be a rookie move,” Natasha says. “There’s a reason that I can still go my same nail salon for five years and now you have to get your hair cut somewhere else. And why you got a wedding china set and you have a backstory of being married.” 

“I hate you.” 

“A lot of people do, take a number.” 

If it helps (and it mostly doesn’t), Sharon Carter is also not happy. She is in the house with the most dangerous look Bucky has seen. 

“So I’m stuck in this fucking hell house with him?” Sharon asks. 

Maria Hill is her boss. Woman is a scary, competent human. Bucky wouldn’t cross her. 

(Then again, you also shouldn’t cross a certain redhead who could make you disappear within twenty minutes, maybe thirty if it’s a surprise. But he did.) 

“Keys are by the front door, hope you know your address! Bye!” Natasha says. “Don’t kill each other or we lose the deposit!” 

Maria Hill smiles. Of course the only time Bucky’s ever seen her smile is at the suffering of others. How typical. 

So then they are left alone. 

“Let’s read the cover story,” Sharon says. “And I don’t need protection, Maria’s just paranoid.” 

Bucky snorts. 

“Yeah, okay, let’s go with that.” 

Sharon sends him a sharp look. 

They meet while on a cruise. 

Bucky fucking hates his life. 

“A fucking cruise,” he mutters. “As if I would ever step foot onto any of those fucking--” 

“We had a beach wedding?!” Sharon cries out. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it!” 

They are both in a bad mood. 

It’s also awkward because this is a house. They have decorations. They have tea towels. 

And a neighbor comes to visit. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” she says brightly. “My name is Karen Tent, so lovely to meet you both!” 

She then invades the house with her Tupperware. Literally speeds past them and it’s not like Sharon judo-chop her throat or anything. 

“What a lovely house you two have!” Karen cheers. “Of course the color palette is a little bit drab, but I’m sure you’ll change that soon enough. When Linda told me we had new neighbors, I could hardly believe it myself, but here you are! Now, how did you two meet? Have you married yet? If not, I hope that you are living apart, you know.” 

“The rings are in boxes,” Sharon answers smoothly, noting that they’ll need to ask Maria where the fuck the rings are. “You know how move-ins are. I’m Melanie Stevens, this is Roger Stevens. How nice to see you so very unexpectedly.” 

“Well, that’s what neighbors are for!” Karen answers, her voice shrill as ever. “I brought over my famous cookie bars. Everyone says they’re good, and I believe they always are. Tell me Melanie, what do you like baking most?” 

“Yes dear, tell her,” Bucky answers, smiling. “I seem to remember...lemon bars?” 

“That’s right,” Sharon says, sending Bucky a smile. “They are really good. Just delightful.” 

“Oh you’ll have to bring some over!” Karen responds. “Now, let me tell you a little bit about the neighborhood...” 

She talks for a fucking hour. Bucky wants to drink. So badly. He saw the wine on the counter. 

Sharon, to her credit, keeps trying to use certain “end” phrases. Karen either knows it and knows she won’t be budging, or will not ever take a hint in her lifetime. 

“And you simply must not ever play loud music in your backyard,” Karen says. “We’ve had a couple of problems with the Richardsons, but nothing a few calls won’t fix.” 

“You called the police?” Sharon asks. 

“Well yes!” 

“Oh my god,” Bucky mutters. 

“I am sure that’s not exactly the measure I would have done,” Sharon says. “But I am tired and don’t want to get into it now,” she says quickly, noticing Karen’s “confused” expression. 

“I say we need some time to rest, today is gonna be a lot of moving,” he says. “So nice of you to stop by, Karen. I’ll return your dish as soon as possible.” 

Karen is ushered out the door, placated with two waves, and they both groan. 

“I’m gonna fucking hate everything after this,” Sharon mutters. “My name is fucking Melanie. Maria knows...” she trails off, facing the very real boxes that were obviously packed with dishes and miscellaneous items. 

Bucky finds four spatulas. He doesn’t know why there are four. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, noting the incredibly cheesy salt-and-pepper set. 

“Welcome to married life,” Sharon says sarcastically. “We’re gonna have a blast.” 

Dinner is spent with Sharon trying to convince Bucky that she’s “fine” and in “no danger” at all. 

“Who did you piss off?” 

“Sitwell.” 

“Oh my god. You’re screwed.” 

“He’s a lapdog, I’m not screwed.” 

“He’s the lapdog of Pierce. You’re screwed.” 

Sharon thunks her head on the table. 

“Can we at least repaint the bedrooms? They suck.” 

“If you think I’m sleeping in a separate room you’re dead wrong,” Bucky says. “You have a target the size of New York on your back. Uh-uh.” 

“You will sleep on the floor and get out when I shower or change,” Sharon threatens. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Then it’s settled.” 

Married life is not so bad. Except when Karen and the rest of the neighbors tend to visit or talk to them for about fifteen minutes on the lawn. 

“It’s your turn to cut the grass,” Sharon groans, flopping on the couch. “If I have to hear Kevin tell me one more time that you should be treating me better, I’m going to explode. He’s trying to lecture me on how to cut grass.” 

“On it,” Bucky says. “Your turn to go get groceries, I ran into Karen and her kid last time. I think she wants me to stop buying so much hummus.” 

“Not our fault it’s good,” Sharon mutters. 

- 

And then, of course, avoiding the various assassins that are sent out at random intervals and at public locations (including their own house) while convincing the neighbors that there’s nothing going on. 

This involves pretending an agent of Hydra is their cousin. 

“This is Jen, she’s visiting for the day!” Sharon says, squeezing “Jen’s” wrist hard enough to make her stay quiet. “We have so much to catch up on, you probably won’t see me or--or Roger again for the day! Ha ha!” 

“Well where’s her car?” Linda asks, looking around the neighborhood. “I don’t see anything...” 

“She’s a hippie environmentalist, she walked,” Bucky answers. “Jen, let’s go catch up in the house, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” the agent squeaks out sadly, knowing exactly what is going to happen. 

She’s delivered tied up in rope on the steps of Maria’s office with a note of “please stop this from happening we’re planting azaleas.” 

Maria snorts. 

Bucky starts to think they’re getting too attached to this. It’s been four months. 

He started a garden. They’re growing tomatoes. 

He also notices Sharon a little bit differently. 

Because she drags him out of bed. 

“Legally? You have to go to brunch with me. Illegally? You like the breakfast burrito too much.” 

She’s scarily competent with anything that could be classed as a weapon. Or their groceries. 

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky yells at her as she throws the jar of tomato sauce. “I am not cleaning that up!” 

“Tough shit!” Sharon answers, dodging a bullet. “It wasn’t even the good kind of tomato sauce!” 

“It was fine, sweetheart!” Bucky growls out. 

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me in the middle of a battle!” Sharon yells. “Strictly after!” 

“You’re the weirdest fucking married couple,” one of the agents wheezes out as Bucky is holding him as a sort of shield. 

“Thanks,” they say in unison, grinning. 

- 

The punishment for them both doesn’t exactly turn out as planned, both Natasha and Maria agree. In fact, it is almost worse. 

They are both reckless, subvert orders, and get along like a house on fire by the end of it. 

“You can still be together, we just need the house back,” Natasha says. 

“Thank god,” Bucky groans. “I get to stop being Roger and I get rid of Karen in one fell swoop.” 

Sharon untenses her shoulders while she’s sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Can I keep the knife set?” 

“No,” Maria says. “I’ll send you a link to where I got it.” 

“Why can’t I keep it if you can get another set?” 

“Steal it,” Bucky stage-whispers. Sharon grins back at him. 

“You have the best ideas, babe.” 

“You are not stealing anything,” Maria scowls. 

“Sure we aren’t,” Bucky says easily. 

“You stole my heart,” Sharon sing-songs, knowing damn well it’s going to make Maria barf. 

“Aw babe...” Bucky says, holding her hand. Natasha fake-retches. 

“I hate you both,” she declares. “And I won’t be there for your actual wedding.” 

“You made us tell people we had a wedding on a beach, were you assuming that you were getting an invitation?” Bucky asks. 

Sharon snickers, getting the last of her bags out into the car. 

“Where to now?” she asks him. 

“I think that there are some apartments we can look at...” 

- 

“We’ve made a collective monster,” Maria decides, blinking. “We Frankensteined this.” 

“We did,” Natasha says, staring at the house. There are still little bits of glass. An unfortunately busted can of beans where someone had been knocked out and they had “conveniently” forgotten to clean it up from yesterday. 

Well. Sharon and Bucky are going to cause havoc on the world. Maria and Natasha just hope they can cover the other while doing so. 

[corneliussteinbeck]

GGS Spotlight: Tina Tang

Name:  Tina Tang Age: 46 Location: Jersey City, NJ

What does being a Girl Gone Strong mean to you? When I think of Girls Gone Strong, I imagine a world of women flying in capes, saving lives with their strength, and embracing the strength of other women. It represents rebellion and support. Girls Gone Strong means permission granted to be as we wish, and not as we are expected to be.

How long have you been strength training, and how did you get started? As Louis CK said, “Divorce has been the best part of my life.. Divorce led me to strength training! (Love Tina’s shirt? She made it!)

As I was going through a bitter divorce, my jewelry stores were taking a hit from the 2008 financial crisis. I needed to find other ways to make a living. Inspired by my love of fitness and questions I had for myself in the gym, I took a course on personal training. From there, I started as a trainer at Equinox where I still felt insecure about my knowledge of strength training. Lifting heavy things was new to me.

Unlike many men who have been lifting since they were teens, I was 42 and just learning.

I wanted to learn how to lift barbells and teach that to my clients. I hired one of my colleagues to train me in powerlifting. Since 2013, barbells have been an essential part of my week.

What does your typical workout look like? For my starter lifting years, I stuck to Mark Rippetoe’s Starting Strength program. Right now, I am sympatico with all of Jill Coleman’s programs. Jill’s programs are condensed and intense. My current workouts follow her most recent Fast Physique program.

Favorite Lift: Like so many in the GGS community, the deadlift is my favorite! Picking up heavy sh*t makes a gal feel like a badass queen.

Most memorable PR: Eight months of training to pass the StrongFirst instructor test. When I started as a personal trainer, my first certification was with StrongFirst. I had never swung a kettlebell, let alone snatched one before that preparation. Training three times a week for eight months was the first time in my life that I had devoted myself to training for a physical exam.

Top 5 songs on your training playlist: I don’t have top songs, I have top genres; ACDC radio and 80’s Rap. A child of “tiger” parents, I played classical piano and was ignorant of most pop and rock music. I only discovered ACDC in college! Strangely, rap was a huge part of suburban teen life in the 80’s. That’s why it’s ACDC and 80’s rap radio when I lift!

Top 3 things you must have at the gym or in your gym bag: Wireless earphones, my laminated program for the day, my old-school paper weekly planner – I never go anywhere without it. It’s my security blanket.

Do you prefer to train alone or with others? Why? Alone, but near people. I’m a loner who likes people.

Most embarrassing gym moment: Running on the treadmill, tripping and falling off onto my ass. Oh, how it must have been hard for those around not to laugh.

Most memorable compliment you’ve received lately: “What are you doing? Your arms look great!” (Thank you, Jill Coleman!)

Most recent compliment you gave someone else: “I love you and appreciate you. I always notice that you try to show me you care and make me feel loved.”

Favorite meal: Braised short ribs. Followed by an extra large chunky cookie that has nuts and chips. It is easier to find good short ribs than it is to find a good homemade chunky cookie!

Favorite way to treat yourself: Brazilian wax. I was full bush until I got divorced. I didn’t even know people shaved or waxed their pubic hair until I hit the dating world. I was in a time bubble for 10 years of marriage. A Brazilian wax makes me feel like I did something secret and special for myself.

Favorite quote: “There are no short cuts; its reps, reps, reps.” – Arnold Schwarzenneger

Favorite book: Clementine Churchill: The Biography of a Marriage by Mary Soames. Little do people know that she was Churchill’s rock. Without her, he would not have been the fearless leader we know. She was his closest political confidant and often massaged relationships with diplomats on his behalf. He had a reputation for being brusque. Clementine is the untold foundation of the Churchill political legacy.

What inspires and motivates you? People who inspire me: Girls Gone Strong (Molly), Neghar Fonooni, Jen Sinkler, Jill Coleman.

In each woman’s unique writing style and perspective, I am reminded and encouraged to be a better woman and coach. They each remind me how to love myself.

What do you do? I find happiness in my mission to empower and celebrate strong women! I manifest my mission in my dual careers as a jewelry designer and personal trainer. I founded IronStrongJewelry.com and Iron Strong Fitness to pursue this heartfelt mission.

After hours… after 10 years as a child being forced to play piano by my loving tiger mom, I am back at piano! I recently purchased a keyboard and have started playing again. The last time I touched keys was at age 16. It took me 30 years to get back to the piano. Mom does know best. I am grateful to have the skills to read music and understand how to play. God, I hated practicing as a kid. Now that childhood practice has brought joy later in life!

Describe a typical day in your life:

Early morning: Train 1-3 clients Mid morning: Work out myself. I love a mid-morning lift session! Midday – Afternoon: Go home or to the jewelry district to work on my jewelry business Early evening: Train 1-2 clients

Your next training goal: I have yet to devote myself to my new training goal. I want to take dance classes! Strength training makes me harness tension and feel strong. I want to start dancing again to move differently. I need a kick in the ass to get started.

For what are you most grateful?

Having a best friend to whom I can text a vagina picture to ask, “is this a pimple or herpes?”

Having two loving parents who sacrificed much so that I could have a life to follow my passions.

Having the chance to restart my life again and again.

Of what life accomplishment do you feel most proud?

Having had three of my own jewelry stores in NYC for 10 years.

Winning second place in the Rising Tide Capital business pitch contest

Which three words best describe you? Animated, introverted, and straight-laced.

Tell us about a time when you overcame fear or self-doubt. I was not excited to win $10,000. Last summer, I was hesitant — actually, resistant — to entering a small business pitch contest. For the winners, first place $10,000, second place $7,500 and third $5,000.

I told myself that I was too busy focusing on my business to enter a contest where I would have to spend time getting people to vote for me for the two levels of the competition. This would be a waste of my time, I told myself.

My business coach asked me to answer three questions. I had to answer with “Excited or Not excited.”

Are you excited about winning $10,000. Answer: Not excited.

How do you feel about telling your friends and family about your business? Not excited.

How do you feel about promoting yourself? Not excited.

My answers illuminated to me, that I was simply scared!

I realized what I thought was a practical answer of “I don’t have time,” was actually a mask for fear.

I knew that I had to enter if it was only fear that made me resist.

So I did — and won second place!

What’s the coolest “side effect” you’ve experienced from strength training? Being able to say, “I got this. No need for you to help me carry that box.”

How has lifting weights changed your life? Today, while I was lifting, I looked at my arm muscles in the mirror. How can I ever go back to being weak and “scrawny?” Lifting makes me feel like a strong, capable woman. I do like my muscles.

What do you want to say to other women who might be nervous or hesitant about strength training? Do you want to be able to open your own jar tops? Isn’t it amazing to put your own suitcase in the overhead bin? Do you like thinking, “Gee, I am a strong woman!” All of that, and the awesome feelings of badassery come as a result of strength training.

Connect with Tina on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube!

The post GGS Spotlight: Tina Tang appeared first on Girls Gone Strong.

from Blogger http://corneliussteinbeck.blogspot.com/2017/07/ggs-spotlight-tina-tang.html

[hellogreenweb]

Family History Through Food

Nothing goes together quite like food and family. Traditions, moments, loved ones, memories, seasons and more can be remembered through tasting a dish your Great Grandma would make every Thanksgiving or a breakfast dish your dad would make every Saturday morning. Family history whether written, spoken, recorded or tasted can be tangible through food – no better way to cement memories and build bridges than through something that we must do day in and day out! Whether that be around a small counter top or a large dining room table we know that daily nourishment can mean a lot more than just filling up our stomachs.

Today we are featuring some amazing food bloggers who are sharing some of their favorite family recipes, not only because they taste wonderful, but because of the special memories they hold for each of them. Read on to find out why they love these recipes and the memories and goodness each recipe holds for them. And lucky for us, the recipes are included!

Jen Sattley @carlsbadcravings

 Every Fall growing up, us 5 kids (and all the neighbors, family, friends and anyone else blessed enough to be a recipient of Mom’s pumpkin bread) would eagerly await the arrival of pumpkin cans lining grocery store shelves so mom could make her famous Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread.  The house would fill with the magical Fall aroma of pumpkin and cinnamon and we knew it was going to be a magically delicious day.  But mom wouldn’t just make one loaf, but three beautiful Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread loafs.  We would devour as much as we were allowed and the rest would be gifted to neighbors and friends.  And then she would make more.  My very favorite memory of Fall.

This recipe for Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread is over 50 years old.  It comes from my mom’s brother’s elementary teacher who sent home homemade pumpkin bread and the recipe to all the children in his class.  With just a few adjustments by my mom over the years to make it perfect, this Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread has stood the test of time against any other pumpkin bread recipe.  In my opinion, it is simply the best!  So get ready to be loved, adored and applauded for your “famous” supremely moist, Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread riddled with chocolate chips, Fall spices and new memories to share.

Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread

INGREDIENTS

Bowl One

6 eggs

4 cups granulated sugar

1 29 oz. can pure pumpkin

1 cup Vegetable oil

Bowl Two

4 1/2 cups AP flour

1 tablespoon baking soda

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cloves

1 1/2 teaspoons ground nutmeg

add later:

2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (or half chocolate chunks)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Grease and flour three 8 1/2” x 4 ½” loaf pans or use a cooking spray with flour in it.

In a very large bowl, add eggs and gently whisk. Mix in sugar, pumpkin and oil.

In a separate large bowl, mix together all Bowl Two ingredients (don’t add chocolate chips).

Mix the Flour Mixture into the Pumpkin mixture just until combined, being careful not to overmix. Fold in chocolate chips. Evenly divide batter between 3 loaf pans.

Bake at 325 degrees F for 65 – 75 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean. Let bread cool on wire rack for 10 minutes then remove bread from pans. Let bread cool completely on wire rack before slicing.

Store bread in an airtight container for up to 5 days.

Brooke Eliason @femalefoodie

One of my favorite family recipes comes from my beautiful maternal grandmother, Sayo Black. Because of her Japanese heritage, we have called her “Grandma Japanese” since my siblings and I were young kids. We love her ability to cook and share parts of her asian culture and, although this fried rice recipe isn’t an authentic Japanese dish, she has always been willing to prepare this family favorite throughout the years. She often makes double or triple batches of her fried rice for large family gatherings and jokingly comments “I’m cooking for an army”!

As a family, we have enjoyed this recipe on Christmas Eve, as a stand-alone meal, for leftovers (which we fought over relentlessly as children), or served inside an omelet for breakfast. I love that when I make this fried rice I am reminded of the great times I have shared with my Grandma Japanese as she thoughtfully chopped fresh vegetables, cooked each ingredient one at a time, and always let me have the first taste.

 Fried Rice

7 cups cooked sticky Japanese (pearl) rice, cooled completely (see tips below) 1/2 cup chopped onion (yellow or white) 1/2 lb chopped ham (about 1 1/2 cups or two thick deli slices) 2 cups cabbage, sliced thin 4 tablespoons butter, separated 2 tablespoons vegetable oil salt pepper soy sauce 1/2 bunch green onions, chopped white and green parts

Using a large non stick pan, cook each of the vegetables, separately, in a small amount of oil and butter. I use about 1 teaspoon for each vegetable/meat. Salt and pepper each vegetable. Transfer to a bowl or plate after the vegetables and meat have been cooked one at a time. It’s OK to let the vegetables and meat inter-mingle at this point. After cooking all of the vegetables and meat, add about 2 tablespoons of butter to the Teflon pan. Over medium heat, add the cooked and cooled rice a little at a time, breaking apart clumps with two wooden spoons until the rice is evenly distributed in the pan, and the butter is mixed in well. Add all of the vegetables and meat to the rice. Toss lightly in pan. Season again with fresh ground pepper. Add the soy sauce, a little at a time. We don’t like to drown the rice in soy sauce, so I only use about 2-3 tablespoons to 7 cups of rice. Taste, add salt and more pepper, if desired. After heated through, add fresh chopped green onions. Turn the heat off. If you continue to leave the heat on, your beautiful fried rice will end up as gummy rice.

Tips: -Make sure the rice is cooked and cooled completely before starting to make fried rice. It is best to make the rice the day before. If you use hot rice when making fried rice, your dish will turn out to be a sticky, gluey mess. -Make sure to use Japanese, or pearl rice, which is short and plump, not a long grain rice. -When “mixing” the rice and other ingredients together, do not stir this like it’s a cake batter- toss the ingredients, like you would a salad.

Becky http://ift.tt/1dSJQk2

I grew up on homemade hot cocoa. Every year my mom would get out the biggest bowl that she owned and we would dump in a few simple ingredients. Then, she’d let my sister and I have turns with a giant whisk, stirring, while also creating a little cloud of cocoa around us. Once it was made all we needed was a cup of hot water and we could mix this in for a quick treat. Also, on occasion, more frequently than I’d like to admit, we would just sneak straight bites of the powdery cocoa mix, only to be found out by our coughing and laughing.

Last year, I created my own hot cocoa mix recipe so that year after year I could replicate this sweet memory with my kids. We enjoy it with a big homemade marshmallow on top or just on its own, always with warm cosy feelings inside and gratitude for foods passed down from generations.

Homemade Hot Coco Mix Recipe

Ingredients

8 ounces organic cacao, or unsweetened cocoa

16 ounces organic powdered sugar

16 ounces non-fat dry milk powder

Instructions

Add all ingredients to a large bowl and use a whisk to combine. Transfer to a large jar to store. This will last a couple months in a dry cool area.

To make hot cocoa: Add 1/2 to 1 cup of hot water* to 1/2 cup of hot cocoa mix. Whisk to combine.

Recipe Notes

You must use hot water to adequately melt the chocolate into a liquid. If servings kids, mix the cocoa with hot water then add an ice cube to cool it down.

Mel @melskitchencafe

I was very close to my paternal grandmother, Venice Walker, as a child, even though my family lived hundreds of miles away from where my grandmother lived (Rexburg, Idaho). Whenever she and my grandpa would come visit us in Texas or Oklahoma, she would inevitably plan an afternoon to make my dad his favorite treat on the whole planet: raisin filled cookies. I have to be honest, they are probably my LEAST favorite cookies ever (mostly because: where’s the chocolate??) and you’ll never find a recipe for them on my blog (sorry, grams), but my grandma would labor over these cookies! They took forever. A homemade sweet dough was made and rolled out and then cut into circles, creating a sandwich for the homemade raisin filling. Because I loved being around my calm, quiet, kind, always-listening grandma, I would immediately join her in the kitchen to help (bonus, she didn’t have to worry about me snitching the dough or the filling because I didn’t like the cookies!); I probably spent at least half my childhood making raisin filled cookies with my sweet grandma! And I loved every minute.

I can still remember from a very young age watching my grandma in the kitchen (hers or ours) making creamy peas and new potatoes, whole wheat bread, raisin filled cookies, or canning chili sauce. She was an unassuming, hardworking, resilient woman who quietly moved through life serving others and often showing her love to others by making and giving them her homemade food. Even more remarkable, my grandmother suffered from very poor health after she had a stroke when she was in her early 30’s (with many small children of her own to care for). Standing for long periods of time was hard, and she often had debilitating back pain and would sit in the kitchen waiting for her bread to rise or her jars to finish canning while laying back in her plastic lawn chair with a rag over her eyes to block the light. But she never stopped cooking…and serving. And to this day, even though she is no longer here, I know without a doubt that my desire to share good food (and recipes!) with my loved ones (and strangers!) is because of the example my grandma set for me. It was nothing she sat down and taught me, nothing she directly said…just a cumulation of all the thousands of sweet moments I observed and remembered.

One of her most famous concoctions was her jarred chili sauce. It’s not salsa. It’s not spaghetti sauce. It’s not jam. No, no! It’s a zesty, spicy, sweet, chunky blend that is ridiculously delicious eaten over eggs (my favorite!) or yes, even with tortilla chips. The recipe has been oft-made, much-loved, and greatly cherished. Every year I make a batch of this chili sauce, even though I’m the only one in my immediate family right now who eats it, mostly because the process and smells and work and finished satisfaction remind me of my grandma, and those memories are precious and sweet to me.

 Grandma Walker’s Chili Sauce

 8 quarts tomatoes, peeled

6 large onions, ground

3/4 quart vinegar

3 cups sugar

3 red peppers, ground

1 teaspoon cloves

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 tablespoon allspice

2/3 tablespoon salt

Cook in microwave (I do it on the stove now). Not written: Simmer sauce for an hour. Can in steam or water bath for 15 minutes.

Thank you to these women for sharing a little more of their family heart and these delicious recipes we can’t wait to try! Now you can get sharing your own stories. We love these resources offered by Family Search on how you can create or carry on your own food traditions and share those food stories! This article shares why it’s so important and how food can pull families together, this site is full of resources to help you get started and this site helps you share those stories with others. Thank you to Family Search for all of these great resources and to these women for sharing a piece of their family with us!

Family History Through Food posted first on http://ift.tt/2ulDYg7