#my crazy recipe list
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culinary-vagabond · 22 days ago
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Recipe Off the List: Boiled Cookies (1953)
I occasionally watch Dylan Hollis's YouTube channel, mostly when Partner shoves his phone in my face to watch the latest funny. This was the first one he actually asked me to make and it was the holiday season, so why not? We have a congregational cookie swap coming up and all the ingredients for Boiled Cookies in our pantry.
Famous last words...
The first sign this perhaps wasn't going to go to plan was things kept coming up until finally the only time I had to make these was the morning of the cookie swap. The final step of this recipe is "allow to cool until dry." That's not a step you want to have when short on time.
The second issue came up when I was gathering all the ingredients, specifically the peanut butter and the oats. We keep (crunchy) peanut butter in the house, but we didn't have the cup called for. So, I used the sunflower butter we have (I can't have peanuts and the kiddo's school bans peanut butter). We also keep oats in the house! Just, 'old-fashioned' oats, not the quick oats called for. I just mentally threw up my hands and used them anyway. Sorry Dylan.
On to the bake
Butter, sugar, milk and cocoa powder melted together and brought to a boil for one minute. Then the sunflower butter, oats, and vanilla mixed in.
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Scoop onto... well, the recipe calls for wax paper, which we don't keep so I used a silpat and then when I ran out of room, parchment paper
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I figured I could run a mini experiment, see if the drying time or end texture turned out different. Spoiler alert: they did not.
Then allow to dry.
I checked at 30 minutes (again, low on time) and while I think they could have been tinned and eaten, they were a bit softer than I thought was a good idea:
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At 45 minutes they were still a touch softer than ideal, but it was as good as we were going to get, so I tinned them up and ran off to congregation.
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Luckily, I found Partner and our congregational leader before platform started and had them try one (I can't - chocolate = migraine) to make sure my ingredient substitutions didn't wreck the cookies and I could actually serve them to people.
"I'm tempted to tell you no so I can keep them all for myself."
Phew.
Recipe: Keeper
A Recipe Write-Up of Dylan's Performance, with alterations from me.
Ingredients
1/2 cup / 1 stick of butter
2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup milk
3 tbsp. powdered cocoa
1 cup peanut or sunflower butter
vanilla extract; I tipped a glug in, try 1/2 tsp. and alter to your taste
3 cups quick or old fashioned oats
In a skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Quickly add the sugar, milk, and powdered cocoa. Bring to a boil and let boil for one minute.
Remove from heat and quickly add the peanut or sunflower butter, vanilla extra, and oats. Mix until everything is evenly distributed and the oats are moistened.
Scoop onto wax paper, parchment paper, or a silpat. I used an ice cream scoop and recommend it.
Let dry to desired firmness, about 1 hour should do.
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cerbreus · 4 months ago
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baking never feels more like science to me than when i'm trying to cobble together an intricate multi step recipe together from several different recipes and tutorials online because the recipe I'm imagining doesn't exist....
#genuinely feels like a science experiment making something fancier than a frosted layer cake#have to do all kinds of volume and weight conversions because one recipe is japanese and the other is indian and the other is english lmfao#none of the recipes are probably the exact volume I need so i might have to make some minis with my extra stuff#i have to find a very precise sheet pan size tomorrow for the patterned cake i'm gonna use as the outer bit#otherwise i'll have to make my own from parchment paper??? or tin foil??? man idk.....#i had to write out all of my instructions and ingredient lists so i don't have to go between 6 different websites tomorrow/sat#i had to do research on fucking. gelatine 😭because it's impossible to find gelatine sheets here and they're used in EVERY mousse recipe#and there's apparently a huge debate on what the ACTUAL conversion of sheet gelatine to powdered gelatine is for baking#I also had to type up like an exact order to make each component because most need a significant amount of cooling time#grayson im gonna try my hardest to make you this fancy ass lemon cake and i pray i succeed this time where i failed on my own birthday#2 yrs ago but also i think this will go better bc i'm not doing a jelly insert or a candied mirror glaze#I'm also making my own candied lemons and lemon curd even though i don't have to#mostly because i wanna try doing it and the sheer power of getting to say i made the whole thing from scratch *#minus the actual cake mix because i don't have a good from scratch cake track record and box mixes are so so reliable#and i have too many moving parts to worry about finding a new cake recipe#every fucking cake recipe now is a fucking genoise sponge for SOME REASON#which is NOTORIOUSLY DIFFICULT AND A HUGE PAIN IN THE ASS BECAUSE IT USES NO RISING AGENTS#i want to throttle whoever it was that made online recipe people turn to only using variations of a genoise sponge for their cake recipes#honestly i need to maybe join the baking subreddit and ask for some good old baking/cookbooks with reliable baking recipes#ones that aren't crazy labor intensive for fucks sake i'm not a french patisserie#my stuff#it would be cool to one day have baked enough and have enough know how of how standard baking recipe components work#so i can just come up with my own recipes on my own#and just use whatever flavors i want#i feel like i would enjoy being a baker except if i had to make wedding cakes
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daughterofsarenrae · 1 year ago
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2.75 more hours. I can make it
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physalian · 7 months ago
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How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3
Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.
Part 1
Part 2
1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)
Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.
There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.
My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.
She was standing /// She stood
He was running /// He ran
Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.
There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.
For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.
Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).
Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.
He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.
2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place
I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.
She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)
Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.
He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.
To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.
3. Lacking flow between sentences
Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.
Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.
From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.
Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.
This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.
4. Getting too specific with movement.
I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.
A ridiculous example:
Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.
Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:
Jack shoves on his running shoes.
*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.
This also happens with multiple movements in succession.
Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.
Or
Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.
Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.
Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.
If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.
These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!
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jinxs-gf · 5 months ago
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Black Cat!Reader x The Team Headcanons
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Black Cat!Reader x The Team
note: just because you’re in place of Black Cat doesn’t mean this is fem!reader! this is very gender neutral besides the mention of lipstick briefly…even then that’s not lady exclusive :)
content/warnings: this is seemingly set during s1 like my other yj fics but I imagine everyone being way older 😔🙏🏽 it’s weird but just roll with it pretty please. also…a bit suggestive??
word count: 3.6k
a/n: I wouldn’t have done this but this anon gave me the idea and I HAD to expand on it unfortunately
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THE TEAM (platonic)
Lots and lots of flirting from reader, OBVIOUSLY. do y’all even KNOW Black Cat????? it would be relentless. and no matter how annoying and probably overwhelming it got, you wouldn’t back down
with even the toughest/hardest to crack team members
it’s not even like you’re attempting to lure them in…or get romantically involved (unless…), it’s just how you are. who can blame you! flirting is fun
you started off as just another “villain of the day.” Someone they could take on easily. They thought of you as a pity mission. An bad guy as small as a simple thief? What fun was that?! They’ve taken down Gods, magicians, robots…and Red Tornado assigned them a thief??? It was a joke.
until it wasn’t. until Batman saw potential in you (because of course he did. Robin was not happy about this.)
You earned the nickname Cat, which was a nickname in itself for Kitty Cat (Wally's idea, not yours, you gave him hell for it)
your first mission with them was definitely something. messy, to say the least
it was weird, the whole mind link thing. you made jokez and flirted through the link as a way of coping because…well you felt out of place
everyone was so close with each other, not to mention they didn’t come from a background of “bad guy shenanigans”
you felt like an outcast for the longest time, until everyone was revealing vulnerable secrets with each other before a mission. you finally spoke your insecurities with your place on the team
you and Artemis had the same worries (more or less) and bonded over that
you finally were able to let loose and just…be yourself around them
you became soft
the flirting and teasing was still there, however it was saved for missions
you preferred to keep Black Cat’s reputation
individual relationships
ROBIN (romantic)
He was very much against the idea of you being on the team. Sure you weren’t a crazy villain that hurt people (maybe not physically…but you were definitely a heartbreaker, Robin concludes)
You were still a thief at the end of the day. A bad person. And he didn’t like that.
It was Batman’s idea—and usually Batman had great ideas. This was a very bad one. He hated every bit of it.
…until he got to know you better
Taking you down was easy. “Easiest job I’ve ever had,” Robin boasts.
You pout, “that’s not very nice.”
Ha. He knocked you down a peg. Good. You needed a little humbling-
“-How come you’re lying to me, Robin? I thought we had something.”
Uh oh. He absolutely hated when you used that sickeningly sweet voice on him.
Of course you didn’t believe his lie. Of course you could tell how difficult that mission really was.
It’s not apart of his proudest moments. He hesitated to stop you on the mission, completely caught off guard by your flirtatious behavior. I mean, who wouldn’t be?!
In a moment of weakness, he let you go. Awestruck by the kiss you left imprinted on his cheek. Something he got teased relentlessly for.
The rest of the team finished the job for him after that.
In the back of his mind he knows the only reason he didn’t like the idea of you being on the team was because he…knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He was sure to be on your long list of broken hearts (a list that was never confirmed to even exist)
It made sense in his mind…he was Robin. A bird. And you were a cat. A right recipe for disaster. You’d trap him in your greedy little claws and eat him alive.
Over time that perspective changed.
Robin hates to admit it, but he’s softer now. Softer around you. For you.
“I know who you are,” he says with that arrogant smirk.
“So why can’t I know who you are?”
“Only…really important and trustworthy people know. The only person who knows besides Batman is Wally. He’s my best friend.”
“Why doesn’t that include me?” you’re practically purring, rubbing a finger down his face, “am I not important enough to you?” You pout for show
He looks dejected, like he was having an internal battle with himself. And you could tell which part of him was losing.
Your fingers inch slowly towards his mask, ready to lift-
“Robin.” And the stupid, stupid monotone voice that belonged to Batman interrupted you.
You’ll get him back for that.
Robin was now being scolded, but he was having none of it.
“It was a moment of weakness.”
“It will not happen again. No more moments of weakness. You’re growing, your body is going through a lot of different things. Keep it in your pants-”
“Whoa old man! Whoa! That’s going too far. And what about Selina?! You’ve had many moments of weakness because of her. You can’t scold me for this one time.”
“It’s because of my experience with Catwoman that I know better. I’m trying to stop you from…getting hurt.”
Robin calls bullshit on that. What could you possibly do to hurt him? (Thoughts that completely contradict his first impressions of you)
The next time he sees you he’ll spill everything. He’ll let you know that he does trust you and that you do matter. That you’re important to him.
Just to spite Bruce. And maybe because he really likes you and wants you to know it.
It was his idea to bring you onto the team anyways…he’s just giving Bruce exactly what he wanted. A warm welcome to a new teammate.
WALLY (romantic)
Wally was so happy someone FINALLY reciprocated his advances. And especially with a catch like you? Black Cat?! He was over the moon.
At first.
It quickly came to be too much. He's been waiting, praying for someone to match his energy, but now that he's got it? He's not exactly sure how to handle it. He's gotten so used to being blown off, teased, and scolded for his flirting that it was weird when you flirted back.
He was of course the first to tease you when you officially joined the team. He gave your your nickname, Kitty Cat. You despised the name and him for the longest time.
Wally was annoying. Taunting you at all times. Calling to you as if you were an actual cat.
He'd click his tongue, "here kitty kitty."
And for that, your flirting was meaner towards him (compared to how you treated everyone else). Which is the exact reason why he couldn't handle the teasing from you. It wasn't the normal way Robin would, "oh yeah, Wally can't phase the way Flash does. Otherwise he gets a nosebleed. Right, loser?" Or the way Artemis would, "ugh, you flirt like a divorced 40 year old who's desperate for a rebound. Loser."
No, your teasing was quite different. You laughed cruelly, throwing your head back for show, "Come get it before it's gone, loser."
So. He was still a loser to you, but it seemed you actually liked that about him. Maybe.
Wally didn't like it as much as he thought he would. It ruined his cool guy facade (one that didn't exist, Robin would say). It was humbling, the way he suddenly tumbled over his words, face flushed red and all.
More than humbling. It was embarrassing.
You bring him down to the mat with a loud THUD. Much like the time Black Canary beat him during their first time training. Except you used your weight, tumbling on him (and straddling him in the process. Great).
Embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing.
The only person that was able to truly catch him was his best friend, Robin. And that's with years of experience with the speedster. You'd know him all of a few months and you're able to do it?!
"It won't happen again,” referring to his teasing of your name, naming you Kitty Cat and clicking his tongue at you.
“Or I’ll have to teach you a lesson. Much different from this one.” And you casually walk away.
Wally desperately wanted to get up, to humble you back. But he couldn't. He felt physically incapable of doing so.
You had really done it. You slowed down the (second) fastest man alive.
Wow.
"Wow. That was extremely painful to watch," of course Robin had something to say about it.
"Shut up man."
KALDUR (romantic)
It was "unprofessional," he said.
Unprofessional your ass. It was perfectly professional. A lot of people on the teams had partners within those same teams. Black Canary and Green Arrow, Superman and Wonder Woman (exes—but that still counts for something), Conner and M’gann acted like a couple and no one said anything! So what was the problem?
Well apparently there wasn’t a problem…seeing as this “relationship” was more welcomed—as in, Kaldur didn’t tell the Black Cat off when they made advances towards him. Besides when he called their behavior “unprofessional.” That was once. He didn’t say a word of it after that.
In fact, he allowed—dare anyone say encouraged it.
On missions you were attached to his hip. Even if he assigned you to be by Artemis’ side or assist Robin, you wouldn’t listen. And he didn’t say anything about it, instead informing the team to continue on with the plan.
His professional act as the team leader never faltered, not even you could break it down. He merely tolerated your flirting (his words, though you knew better. He loved it).
The team was each in their individual positions scoping out the area, ready to attack at a moments notice. Kaldur was squatted down and you decided it was the perfect opportunity to pounce on him (as you usually did). You wrapped your arms around his neck, now on his back.
“Does the team leader have time for some sweet talk?”
“I, we have a job to do, Cat. Focus.”
You hum, “What are we doing here again?”
He starts relaying the plan to you, you taking note of the way he doesn’t scold you (he repeated the plan to the team multiple times on the way over, he surely would’ve berated one of the other guys for not listening). You never had any intentions of listening, only wanting a chance to annoy him.
“Blah blah blah, is this your version of sweet talk?” You squish his face between your fingers and plant a kiss on his cheek.
He only sighs, “Later. After the mission is complete.”
For once, your find yourself surprised. He’s promising to reciprocate your advances?
This should be fun.
CONNER (romantic)
M'gann was more subtle with her flirting (not really, especially with the way she blushes), more timid and on the nose about her feelings. You? You got straight to the point. Kind of like how open Artemis was when she first joined the team. She had no shame letting the team know telepathically how attractive she thought Superboy was. Seriously, what was it with new recruits and taking an immediate liking to Conner? Why not the other three boys? What did he have that they didn't!
Although Artemis gave up on that crush at first sight almost immediately
You? Not so much. it was very noticeable that the Black Cat was adamant on cracking the boy of steel. it seemed like an impossible mission, but with a little determination and a couple sultry words? it was pretty damn easy
This is very much an enemies to lovers type relationship (kinda):
At the beginning, when you first met, he was open to new relationships. Getting to know people he could count on within the team, though that openness completely died down. Your flirting was nonstop. Even on missions! How was he supposed to concentrate on the task at hand when you found time to graze his arm or speak soft words to him?
You annoyed him, sosososo much it wasn't even funny. Even more than M'gann did. Both of you were insistent, that's for sure. But one was more bold than the other. He tried telling himself it was because he didn't like you: at least with M'gann he wanted a relationship to come from it (not necessarily romantic)
But with you...he hated you. No. He hated the way he reacted to your advances...he hated admitting to himself that your words affected him. That he felt something not so platonic for you. Damn you and your stupid flirting. It was surely going to be the death of him. And that's saying something: the clone of the man of steel actually breaking down? unheard of.
But you managed to do it. Unfortunately.
Conner finds himself thinking about you, more than he'd like. Another reason to dislike you. You take up his mind. Every waking moment and every dream. It's infuriating.
And now he was starting to worry about you during missions. He saw you get knocked down, away from the rest of the team. The fall looked nasty, and with the way you seem to lie there with no intention of getting back up, he's sure you've been knocked out
Conner tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight, kind of like the way it does when concerning you in different context
It gives him the courage to voice his worries, he calls out to you, and as expected: he gets no response
The enemy leans down to your level, ready to do more damage. Conner is quickly snapped out of his daze and starts running over to you
Until he abruptly stops. Because you open your eyes to wink at him, jump up, and take the enemy down with ease.
It's right then that he takes back every thought of admitting he doesn't hate you. Because the stupid smirk you're sending his way reminds him of every reason why he dislikes you.
Everyone is home or in their respective rooms already, leaving you and him. You're behind him, massaging his shoulders gently (your touch wouldn't have persisted if he showed any signs of discomfort, he leaned into it in fact, allowing you to continue)
You bring your head down, cheek to his,
"Oh come on. You can lie to everyone and yourself. But you can't lie to me. I know you were worried back there. Just admit it, Loverboy."
He can only roll his eyes. And blushed. You were never going to live this down.
"I wasn't. Now leave me alone." If only his actions were as convincing as his stern words. Words that would've scared off the likes of M'gann had she been in your position. But you knew better, knew that his shaking hands and quickly warming face meant that his words had no meaning.
Your hand dragged from his shoulder to his chest, right over his heart. Yeah, his words were meaningless with the way his heart was beating for you.
Conner was finally warming up to you and you had him right where you wanted him.
And so you let go. "Whatever you say, Loverboy," and with a kiss to his pink cheek, you leave him alone to ponder his complicated feelings.
Feelings that were in fact not complicated at all. Because Conner was finally, finally ready to admit to himself and to you that he wanted you. So badly.
If only you hadn't pulled away so quickly, he couldn't reciprocated the kiss or two...it would've been an easier, showing you how he feels instead of saying it out loud.
He'll kiss you next time.
M’GANN (romantic)
The Martian can't hide her liking towards you for the life of her. She could’ve even if she tried.
It was near painful, you pitied her. You almost felt bad and stopped teasing her. Almost.
It was fun though, how could you stop?
M’gann would actively seek out your approval and attention when you joined the team. It was only natural, she did it with the rest of the members, so you were no exception.
Besides, the only teammate she was kind of close with was Artemis. Was it sooo wrong of her to want to get close to you?!
Nope! Though she does wish you weren’t so…forward sometimes. Not that it’s unwelcomed, she’s just unsure of how to act because of it. Is she supposed to reciprocate? M’gann has never seen nor experienced such a dynamic on Mars, much less on Earth. So she awkwardly blushes and smiles.
Eventually she gets used to it. And gets very much into it. She won’t vocalize her feelings, instead she’ll mind link and talk that way. Often times it’s easier to communicate through touch. Which says a lot, M’gann would rather use touch?? Not the mind link?? Which was the main source of communication on Mars? Whoa.
It was mainly because…she didn’t want to reveal all her feelings to you. She’s usually able to control what goes through the mind link, having done it since childhood, but you’ve made her mind a complete mess. She all but short circuits when you’re around.
Can anyone blame her?
"You know what I'm thinking?"
"No."
"Well you can read me, can't you Martian girl?"
She giggles at herself, how could she forget? "Hello Megan!"
Her smile turns timid once she reads your mind.
"Oh."
ARTEMIS (romantic)
It was honestly unfair how fast the blonde caught your attention. Her voice. Her stupid raspy voice.
Unfortunately for you, Artemis wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with you at first. Well, she wasn’t really with any of her teammates. But with time she’s learned to get along with everyone.
“I just wanna get to know you, Blondie. What’s wrong with that?” You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster up, one that usually made everyone fall.
Yet she rolls her eyes.
So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Fine.
It was right after a mission, everyone was surrounding Red Tornado, relaying the events to your mentor.
“You know we could’ve took that guy down way faster had you not been on Robin the whole time.”
“Jealous Blondie?
“Stop calling me Blondie!”
You had sleepovers, movie nights, and other hang out outside of missions. With or without the rest of the team. They were fun, the first time you were alone with her is what really got her to warm up to you.
“Ugh! Of course literally everyone else canceled but Cat.” She really seemed to hate you.
You were outside her window, watching as Artemis complained to no one but herself. She once offhandedly commented on how her place was off limits for hangouts (refusing to explain why, which was okay with the team).
You were definitely crossing a boundary doing this, but she seemed upset in the group chat. You couldn’t just leave her by herself.
And then…the Sportsmaster walks in her room. One of the team’s enigmas. A thorn in their side. What the hell?
He does nothing but berate her for not “joining them.” Joining who? Then proceeds to say he’d be happier if she ever thinks to change her mind
“I’m never going to be apart of your messed up team, dad.”
Oh.
And then he’s just…gone.
You’re stunned, and only then does she finally notice you. She ushers you into her room, now berating you for your actions and spying and breaking her boundaries and…
“Your secret is safe with me, babe.” It was meant to be a term of endearment to reassure her,
Friends called each other babe, right?
“Babe?”
“You’d rather be called Blondie?”
She rolls her eyes, “whatever.” And as annoyed as she wanted to seem, she smiled and hugged you gratefully.
It was the only time you allowed yourself to be any kind of vulnerable around her. Or any of the team for that matter.
Once she got over her high horse, it was a very reluctant friendship turned…something more? That’s to be determined. But with the way she now flirts back? You’d say that was a good sign.
“Hey Blondie.”
“You calling me Blondie is the equivalent of Wally calling you Kitty Cat. Maybe I’ll have to teach you a lesson this time around.”
“I like the way you think, babe.” (You say not so platonically this time)
ROY (romantic)
You were on him as soon as he rejoined the team. How could you not be? He was even grumpier than Conner was when he joined, making him extra fun to mess with.
You had no chill when flirting with him, he decided immediately that was annoyed with you. And did not want to be friends.
Because his actual friends brought him joy, they made him laugh and they listened to him when he had bad days. You? You made a bad first impression, therefore he refused give you the chance to do any of those things.
Often telling you to buzz off and if you didn’t he’d “choke you with a hair ball.” Kinky, you replied.
He hated it.
Until you found out about his girl, his other Cat. Cheshire. That’s when things changed. You were less…on him.
"Me and her were never a thing!"
"Getting defensive there. Afraid I'll get jealous?"
"I could care less about your feelings."
“Oh really? Is that right?”
His eye twitched. He couldn’t believe he was trying to…reassure you? Was that what he was doing?
He was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t with Cheshire. That her feelings were one sided. It’s something he shouldn’t be doing, he tells himself. In fact, he should be doing the opposite. Tell you that she means something to him, or maybe stay quiet and insinuate that they had something going on.
To get you off his back.
You seemed to back off completely when you found out Cheshire flirted with him often on missions when the goal was to take her down. Much like how the team’s predicament when they first met you.
It made you…upset?
And for some reason that made him upset.
“So you’re my Roy Toy? Mine completely?” Wally and Robin had originally griped about the nickname until it eventually made them laugh. They came to appreciate it.
“I’m no one’s. Not yours, not Cheshire’s, not the Justice League’s nor the team’s.”
“You will be mine one day, Speedy. And you’ll love it.”
Roy doesn’t respond but he feels like…there is some truth to your playful statement.
Maybe one day.
bonus:
THE TEAM
They all slowly turn towards you.
"...you've kissed all of us?"
You only shrug, “wasn’t that obvious?”
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you can tell I got lazy lmaooo
I hate how I formatted this omg
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months ago
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Day 4: market day
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Masterlist flufftober 🎃
Reblog if you liked it!
You've heard a lot of people say that the honeymoon period only lasts the first few weeks of marriage and that after that things can start to get complicated. But the rule didn’t seem to apply to you.
Maybe it was because you two were young and enthusiastic, because you were too busy missing him to think about arguing, or maybe it was just that you really were made for each other.
You often tried to steal as much time as possible from your husband’s demanding job because being an FBI agent often took him away from you, and sometimes having a few domestic moments was all you both desired.
Grocery shopping was one of those activities that really made you feel like a married couple, and it saved you many trips to the store for food.
“Which do you prefer? Soy or almond milk?”
“Soy has phytoestrogens and more health benefits in moderate amounts. Almond is for people looking to maintain weight, and although it’s healthy, it’s low in protein.”
“Soy, got it,” you said with a small smile at his intellectual response.
Every time it was grocery shopping day, your job was always to push the cart and grab an item or two within reach, but most of the time, Spencer was the one in charge of selecting your groceries. After all, he had a pretty extensive knowledge of the benefits of each food. He always wanted to take care of you, and since he was often away, one way he could do that was by ensuring you were well-nourished.
“Look, I found some tea,” he announced happily, making you look away from the yogurt section in the fridge to pay attention. “Lavender, passionflower, valerian…”
“For your insomnia?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, dropping the boxes into the cart “And some mint and lemon for you.”
“You know me so well,” you smiled sweetly, leaning on the plastic handle, letting him gently caress your cheek.
You two had known each other for so many years that there were details about each other you knew by instinct. You knew his favorite brand of coffee, how he liked it with a specific number of sugar spoons, that you needed to buy him two sets of socks because he always liked mismatched ones, and you knew the exact spot on his head to stroke to help him fall back asleep after a nightmare. He knew you hated wearing shoes indoors, that you had a specific way of sleeping, and that you hated the smell of cinnamon. There were so many things you did as if they were second nature that it seemed impossible to list them all.
The truth is, people at Spencer’s work were quite surprised to find out that not only did he have a girlfriend, but that you were getting married. The event was private, very intimate, and not at all pretentious because that wasn’t your style.
You both had no problem moving into a new, slightly more spacious apartment, now that everything was doubled. But you were managing it quite well, to be honest.
You continued strolling through the grocery store, staying close to your husband, and then remembered you needed some bread. You pushed the cart over and stood next to a woman who seemed to be in a dilemma, staring at two loaves of bread as if trying to analyze which was better.
“The best one is that one,” you said, hoping not to make her uncomfortable. She looked at you confused, so you decided to speak again. “It has less sugar and the necessary carbs for good nutrition. There’s a study about it; it’s true.”
“Oh, sweetie, I wasn’t looking for the healthiest, just the one with the best quantity and price. It’s for my kids. Those children could eat an entire loaf in a day, and I can’t afford that.”
You laughed honestly and gave her a look of understanding. She was a bit older than you but not old enough to be considered elderly.
“I think you’re right.”
“I love my kids, but I won’t lie… sometimes they drive me crazy,” she confessed, and you both laughed again.
“Darling, do you want me to make pasta for you this week? Rossi taught me a recipe that…”
He trailed off when he noticed you had company, and for some reason, he suddenly felt shy.
“That’s fine, love. We can eat whatever you want,” you replied kindly. “I already have something to go with it.”
You winked at him when he noticed the wine you had tossed into the cart, and then he smiled and went off in search of the necessary ingredients.
“Your boyfriend?”
“Husband,” you corrected her. There was a strange pride in saying that.
“Husband! Oh, that’s so sweet. How long have you been married?”
“We’ll be married for four months next week.”
“Young love, so beautiful,” she sighed, as if nostalgic for a time that now seemed too far away. “And he helps you with the shopping?”
“I help him, actually,” you laughed. “He’s the one who selects everything. Before we got married, I had the worst eating habits, and he hated that. So we try to eat better now.”
“Marriages are so different now,” she said, and upon hearing that, you expected to endure a conservative speech and internally dreaded it. “My husband never joins me for things like this; he’s not even interested. In this and in much more, to be honest. And it’s nice to see that girls nowadays can have these kinds of relationships. You know, where they’re supported.”
Somehow, that touched your heart, and suddenly you wished you could hug the woman, but you held back. Then, you looked over at Spencer. He was in the vegetable section, apparently comparing two bags of spinach. You could recognize him in a crowd without a doubt, with his slouched posture, his messy hair (freshly cut, by the way), and his peculiar formal attire.
You had always appreciated having the man in your life, even when you didn’t have a romantic relationship, but you had never stopped to think how lucky you were that he had decided to love you.
“I’m glad too,” you said in what was barely a whisper.
You didn’t say anything else. The woman said her goodbyes kindly, and you just smiled at her, too busy gazing at the man with loving eyes. You stood there watching him, and when he approached, he couldn’t help but notice your strange expression.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just had a very revealing conversation with that woman.”
“Huh, yeah?” he hummed, dropping a collection of items into the shopping cart “And what was it about?”
“About you,” you answered casually, lifting your hands to place them on his chest and then sliding them to his cheeks “Talking to her reminded me that you’re the best husband in the world.”
Carefully and affectionately, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a loud kiss on him. Spencer laughed as his cheeks blushed, returning the favor with a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“I don’t know if I am, but I try.”
“And that’s why I love you,” you confessed sweetly.
And then, it was Spencer who felt lucky.
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quinloki · 4 months ago
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FuckNoWriMo
Here's my official Writing Challenge Post for anyone who wants to play along.
FuckNoWriMo will be held December 2024 for this year only, and will be held in March from 2025 on. Due to the terminology being used, this is probably an 18+ event, but I swore like a sailor at 12, and it's not like I can stop you from participating.
How to Participate:
Decide you want to write during the month of the event.
Write.
Bonus!
3. Post and share that you're writing, and what you're writing if you want \o/ 4. Tag your posts with #fnowrimo or #fucknowrimo
Want more structure? Certainly, allow me.
Pick one of the categories to run with and set that as your goal for the month:
A Word, if I May?: Write at least 31 words for the month.
Get That Shit Outlined: Write at least 1,000 words for the month. (33 words a day)
Give it the Gusto!: Write at least 5,000 words for the month. (162 words a day)
Hell Yeah, Write!: Write at least 10,000 words for the month. (323 words a day)
Words At Work: Write at least 20,000 words for the month. (646 words a day)
Punctuated: Write at least 35,000 words for the month. (1,130 words a day.)
Fuck It: Write at least 50,000 words for the month. (1,613 words a day)
Crazy 88 (it's a Kill Bill reference): Write at least 100,000 words for the month. (3,225 words a day)
Please note you may write anything:
An outline, several outlines, rough draft(s), poetry, journaling, lyrics, role-play with your friends, a campaign idea for a table top game, the script for a movie, show, visual novel, etc., notes to defend your dissertation, recipes, to-do lists - you get the point.
If you want to breakdown the granular concepts of an old historic text on index cards for shits and giggles, that counts too!
The event is less about the quality of the end result, and more about creating a habit to write daily. If you don't want to spend a lot of time fixing and editing a harried rough draft, then don't worry about the word count at all.
0 is a valid word count for the day. So is 1, or 10, or 100 or all those little numbers we often get discouraged seeing.
But set aside some time during the month, and write some fucking words, hell, write some words fucking. A real alphabet orgy. Be silly, weird, cringe, strange, gross, problematic, thematic - whatever \o/
Just write it yourself. I don't care if you dictate it, use the hunt and peck method, a pen, pencil, quill, or chisel.
But for the love of all that's holy -
No Generative AI
That's the only rule.
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domesticgoddess22 · 2 months ago
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banana creampie
a thanksgiving one shot
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pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Your dad is hosting Thanksgiving this year, and he's invited his closest friends, including Joel Miller, who drives you to get ingredients for your famous banana cream pie. warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), car sex, unprotected piv, daddy kink, breeding kink, cowgirl, rough sex, creampie, daddy issues, TLOU AU no outbreak, dubcon, praise kink word count: 3.3k rating: explicit MDNI
Happy Holidays <3 This is a little something I cooked up on Thanksgiving day, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry it isn't edited yet.
**update: I completely forgot to mention that I got a lot of inspiration from a scene in Macfrog's cowboy like me, when MC and Joel go to the grocery store.
~~~~~~~~
Rays of orange spilled across the living room carpet, the sun peeking through the curtains that ebbed and flowed to the cool Austin breeze. The slivers of the light that dotted the couch warmed your bare legs, still shining from the lotion you lathered yourself up with. You turned the TV volume to blasting to overpower the chaotic sounds of your dad’s cooking. 
“You gonna get dressed and help your old man out here, kiddo?” Your dad’s head poked out from around the archway that led to the kitchen, a greasy spatula in hand and your brow furrowed at the drips that now splattered on the white tile.
“I am dressed,” you contested, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You just came back from college, celebrated your twenty-second birthday even, but your dad would always see you as a kid.
He frowned, eyes closing as he shook his head in disapproval before dipping back into the kitchen. It would take some getting used to, your new attire since coming back from NYU, that is. If there’s one thing your fashion degree taught you, it’s how to dress. You wore a juniper green corset top, laced up from the front and tied together to display your breasts nicely. The top was fashioned with a black, skin tight mini skirt with a slit along the right thigh, leaving little to the imagination.
You groaned, rolling off the couch lazily, but careful enough not to ruin your hair. Big, glossy curls cascaded down your back, bouncing slightly as you stood. There was a bow as red as wine that held your hair together in a half updo, so any cream from the pie you were about to make wouldn’t splash into your hair.
You dragged your feet to the kitchen, cracking open the pantry and digging for the ingredients to make your famous banana cream pie. 
“So whose all comin’ again?” You asked, eyeing the recipe to determine if you should still double the portions. You knew your dad’s friends were comin’, they always did, but you figured you’d check and make sure there wasn’t any changes.
“Donna and Rick, Keith, Rob,” your dad began listing off his friends, cursing when a splash of sausage grease sprayed his arm. “Oh yeah, and Joel and Sarah are comin’.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh?” You tried to come off casual, like your heart wasn’t about to burst in your chest at the sound of your dad’s best friend–the hottest guy on the block. “Thought they were goin’ to Tommy’s this year?” 
“They were, but Tommy and Maria are sick, so there’s been a change of plans,” your dad said, oblivious to how Joel’s name reddened your cheeks.
“That okay?” Your dad finally asked when you didn’t say anything.
“‘Course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I guess I forgot to tell ya with all the holiday craziness, it must of slipped my mind. Do you have enough ingredients to make your little tart?”
“Pie,” you corrected. “It’s a banana cream pie, dad.” You chewed your cheek, annoyed with his inability to pay any attention to you.
“Right, of course, of course. Do you have everything you need?” He’s half focused on checking the turkey now, the oven door screeching at the hinges as he stabs a thermometer into the near-browning meat.
“Actually, I’m gonna need more cream if I double this recipe.” You frowned, thinking about how you’d need to run to the store on Thanksgiving day and fight traffic and long lines. Not to mention, you haven’t gotten your license yet, there was no need for it in New York with all the subways and taxi cabs. 
“Call Joel ‘n ask him to be a doll and pick some up for you ‘fore he gets here.”
You slipped back into the living room, away from the hiss of sausages cooking, and flipped your phone open. Joel picked up, the sound of his rumbly voice left you forgetting what it was you called for in the first place.
“Hey, darlin’. What do you need?”
“Hey. Was just wonderin’ if you could be a doll and pick up some heavy cream for me before you get here?”
You heard him laugh through his nose. “On Thanksgiving Day?” 
“The stores are open for a half-day,” you said flatly. “But I guess if you don’t want my famous banana cream pie, then don’t bother.” There was a sweet, playful lilt to your tone at the latter, but their was a shuffling sound followed by a car door slamming.
You heard the sound of the front door crank open, as old and rusty as it was, and your head whipped around to see the very man you were on the phone with. He held a case of bears in his other hand. The two of you mirrored each other, flipping your phones shut.
“Look who decided to come back from New York.” Maybe it was wishful thinking or ovulation that was playing tricks on your mind, but you swore that his eyes clung to your hips, your breasts. 
“For now.” You said, ending the conversation right then and there. You didn’t want to entertain questions about what direction your career was going in and all that bullshit that you didn’t have answers to. “So I take it you’re not gettin’ cream then?”
“Didn’t say that. 'Course I want your pie.” He smirked at you right as Sarah came flying in, a giant sack of potatoes in her hand. She nearly jumped out of her boots when she saw you, screaming your name in excitement.
“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” Sarah dropped the potatoes on the floor with a thump, rushing to hug you. Your arms tightened around her, breathing in the sweet, citrusy scent of her curls.
“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! And you’ve gotten so big!” It was true. Last time you saw Sarah was probably a year ago. She had just started middle school, but now she was almost as tall as you. “What, did ya hit a growth spurt or something?!” She beamed at you proudly.
“I’m 5’1” now!”
“Where’s your dad?” Joel asked.
“Kitchen. Makin’ a mess, cooking up a storm.”
“Hey bud,” you hear Joel say casually to your dad. And then you hear him say that he’s going to take you to the store, ordering Sarah to get started on the potatoes while the two of you run out. You feel your face go hot and your palms all sweaty at the thought of being alone with Joel. The two of you have never been alone before.
You rush to the side table, dotting your lips with a subtle, pink gloss. Joel strides back into the living room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
“It takes two people to go pick up some cream?” You taunt, and not quite sure why you do. Your heart was soaring at just the thought of being alone with him, and maybe it was because of that you put on the facade. The mask that you didn’t want to, just so he didn’t somehow find out that you were dying to be around him. 
“Did New York teach you to be this sassy? I liked it better when you were just Texas sassy.” He smirked, grabbing his keys and motioning for you to follow him to the front of the house to his truck parked in the driveway. Still the same old chevy. Still the same old Joel. 
“Aww, are you sayin’ you missed me?” You liked keeping up with his playful, teasing banter.
“We all did.” There was a sweet look in those big brown eyes that, for the first time, locked on yours. “Didn’t think you were gonna come back to this old town.”
“Yeah, I’m still figuring things out I guess. New York… wasn’t everything I had imagined it would be.” The thought seeped in and you felt the pang of disappointment. 
“You’re young. You have plenty of chances to try things, fuck up, and then try som’ new.” 
The engine roars to life, and you realize then that you were freezing. But it was too late to change now, Joel was already halfway down the block by the time you really gave it some thought.
“Those flimsy pieces of fabric not keepin’ you warm?” He gave you a quick side glance. He sounded like a scolding father with the way he said it. Not the same judgement as your dad, but of a similar breath, as if to say ‘I told you you shouldn’t have worn that in this weather.’ 
“I’m fine,” you scowled, but Joel must not have believed you as he cranked up the heater. 
“I have a sweatshirt in the back, you can wear that when we get out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the back of the cab, and then gave you another side glance, this time his eyes were on your thighs. “I know I ain’t your dad but–”
“No, you’re not.”
“You wear som’ like that, on a day like today, Kieth is gonna get drunk and his eyes’ll be all over you,” his face scrunched in disgust.
“I can handle Kieth,” you snorted. Kieth was your dad’s other friend, one that has been blatantly lusting after you every time you’ve come to visit. Your dad never seemed to notice, but it seemed like Joel had.
“Or…” You teased, lips pulling into a cat-like smile. “I can just let him look at me, if he wants to. He’s a decent looking guy, could probably use a little fun since he’s been divorced for what, two years now? Three?” In all honesty, if Kieth hadn’t been standing next to Joel every time he came around, you’d probably think he was the hottest guy on the block.
Joel’s grip around the steering wheel tightened. “You like him?”
“I dunno. I’m young, I don’t know what I want. I have plenty of time to fuck up.”
“My advice to you? Don’t fuck up with Keith. Guy’s a fuckin’ mess. And your dad would probably kill him.”
Your head slams back against the headrest and you let out a roaring laugh. “My dad wouldn’t even notice.” 
“He would.”
“Well, then who should I fuck up with then?”
“That’s for you to decide, darlin’.” Joel’s voice was low, his sweet Texan tang like music to your ears.
“But not really because you said I can’t have Keith, so who does that leave me with? You?” You bit your lip and smiled while Joel continued to look straight ahead at the open road. “I guess it’s only fair. It’s only been three years since Kieth’s divorce, but it’s been nearly a decade for you.”
It was quiet for a minute, and you worried that you pushed to far. Flirted to hard. You waited for him to scold you, say something and make you feel ashamed for your advances and commenting on his failed marriage.
“You’re gonna piss off your old man, sleepin’ with all his friends,” Joel finally said, and it was that comment that gave you the opening to press forward. Joel put the car in park when you pulled up to the country market, the lot nearly empty. Not quite as a packed as you thought it’d be. 
“Not all of them.” Your gaze bore down at his lap and then slowly, slowly let your eyes roam up his chest until you met his, lookin up at his through thick lashes, biting your lip. “Just one.”
He shifted in his seat, cracking open the chevy door. “Let’s get your cream.”
You wore Joel’s sweatshirt, just like he told you to. It smelled like him, a musky, woody scent that made your pulse quicken with each inhale. He trailed behind you as you all but skipped down the aisles, heading straight for the cream. You grabbed another set of bananas too, just in case you needed to top off the pie. Joel was eerily silent the entire time, and you hoped it was because he was horny, not becuase he was mad. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. You smiled devilishly at the thought.
When you dropped the bananas and cream on the belt, you pulled out a few bucks to pay for it all, but Joel’s wallet was already out, handing the cashier a few bills. “Hey, I was gonna pay for it.”
The cashier, a kind old woman, bless her soul, just smiled at the two of you. “Let daddy pay.” Your face dropped and Joel stiffened, grabbing the receipt and storming out. You tail after him, but his footsteps eat the ground, and you’re practically running to keep up.
“Woah, woah, woah! Slowdown their cowboy, I’m not used to running this much.” 
He flung the door open, jumped in the truck and took a long, deep breath. He was silent again. Joel was always a man of few words, and you always wondered what he was thinking. There were times over summer break–when you’d come back to visit, wearing nothing but a string bikini while you splashed around in his pool–you wondered if he thought of you. 
“Is everything okay?” You tore his sweatshirt off, feeling the heat build up on your skin now that something was amiss with Joel.
Joel groaned quietly, letting his elbow rest on the side door and burying his eyes in his left palm. 
“You’re so young. We shouldn’t be… shouldn’t be talkin’ like this. It ain’t right.”
“I thought we were just havin’ fun.” You said, eyebrows stitching inward at the fear of rejection.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fun.”
“Then what’s the problem?” An innocent question, and then your eyes trailed back down to his pants and it was then that you realized you didn’t need an answer.
“Seeing you, prancing around in your little fuckin’ skirt and your shirt that barely covers your tits… fuck. I–that’s part of why I gave you my sweatshirt. So I didn’t have to look at you and torture myself anymore.” He starts, slowly turning his gaze to look at you. “But it didn’t make a difference. You… are so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t hide my desire. Can’t go back to your dad’s like this.” He buried his face in his palm again, wishing away his erection. 
Wetness pooled between your thighs at his confession. You felt your mouth water as you eyed the length of him through his jean, a pulsing throbbing mass that you’d give anything to have a taste of.
“Then let’s not go back like that.”
He turned back to you, slowly. You exchanged a look of mutual agreement, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you slid a leg over him and perched yourself on his lap, straddling him. Feeling the heat of him through the fabric of your panties. He rolled the sit back slowly, and then ground his hips against yours, his mouth hot on your neck, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin. The hair of his beard scraped against your chest and shoulder, but you didn’t care. 
“Baby…” he whispered into your ear, hands groping your mounds, thumbing the sensitive peaks. And then his mouth was back to sucking your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips as he did so. He slid his hand up your shirt, his calloused palm flush against your bare skin. His body heat warmed you in the cold november air.
Your moans became louder and more frequent with every fondling stroke of his hands on your breasts, your hips, and your ass. The wetness of his tongue against your neck. You cried out his name, begging, pleading him for more as your ground your hips on his lap. He groaned in approval.
“This what you want?” He asked, teasinglly pulling your pants to the side and letting his finger feel the wetness there before pulling away. 
“Yes, yes, please, please, please.”
And then he let his fingers slide along your clit before rubbing in a smooth, circular motion. “Fuck, you’re wet…” 
You moaned and begged him to continue, and your sweet cries left him thirsty for your lips. His mouth locked onto yours, tongue exploring you without any reservation. He kissed you roughly, like you belonged to him, and when you moaned at his touch between your legs, the rumbling growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest poured into your mouth. You cried out, spreading your legs as far as you could in the driver’s seat and let yourself fall into the white hot release, body convulsing as he rubbed you through your high. 
As you came too, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. His cock was out not even a second later, the massive, swollen head slick with precum. He was huge, both in girth and length, and you almost shied away. Worried he wouldn’t fit. But he didn’t give you time to turn back as he lifted your hips from his lap, lined up at your entrance, and then forced you down on him in one long stroke. 
“Good girl,” he said into your ear.
You screamed, biting his shoulder to hold back any other screams that might tear from your lungs and give you both away. Your hips moved on their own accord, bouncing on his cock, bigger than any dildo you’d ever used. 
“Joel… fuck me! Please, please!”
His hips bucked up, slammed into you, somehow deeper with every thrust. He growled, eyes trained on your bouncing breasts that are now exposed, the corset snug underneath them, propping them up for his pleasure. His hands found a spot on your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise. 
He slammed into you, filling you to the brim in violent thrusts. You continued to bounce, your movements matching his but his stamina outmatched yours and you let him use your body for his pleasure. He fucked you, the truck bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts, the sound of Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond playing quietly on the radio. You thanked God for the cold air fogging the windows of the truck, otherwise you’d be on display for the world.
“Come inside me, please daddy.” You begged, and then wrapped our arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
And that’s what undid him. You. Both of you. Joel bucked his hips into you in sloppy, violent thrusts. You screamed, reaching the blissful release again, screaming daddy, daddy, daddy as he took you there, pouring his white hot cream into you in an endless load. You begged him for more and he buried himself into you.
And then your body went limp against his. Once bouncy, boisterous curls now sticking to the sweat on both of your faces.
“Fuck…” Joel groaned, pulling his cock out of you. Both of you pulled yourselves back together. You combed your fingers through your hair and Joel handed you a wipe to clean yourself up. “‘M too old to be this impulsive. Look what you did to me.”
You smirked, wiping the white milk from between your legs. “And I’d do it again.”
When Joel pulled up to the driveway, you noticed more cars parked out front. “Looks like everyone else showed up.”
Keith was in the living room as you and Joel entered the house, a frown plastered on his face when he looked at you, your neck, and then cast a glance at Joel. You looked in the mirror by the door and found a hickey the size of a golfball tattooed on your neck, covering it with your curls as soon as your realized the evidence.
“Hey, look who finally came back!” Your dad strolled over, a smile on his face that you knew would be wiped away the second he found out what you did with his best friend just moments ago. “Did you get what you needed?”
“Yeah, we got the cream.”
More cream than you needed, actually.
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amoreva · 10 months ago
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girl i beg you i need reader x luke based on gorgeous by taylor swift... its been on my mind for like past week
FESS UP!
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—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
pairing: luke castellan x reader
summary: you still have some unresolved feelings about a certain Hermes counselor.
warnings: cursing, implied reader is halfblood, sexual innuendo, dorky, drinking, kinda loser!reader
a/n: is it dorky? probably, lmk with feedback in the comments. every one is appreciated and helps me write towards your liking.
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
You were a coward.
Not with everything, because gods forbid you’re afraid of monsters despite having demigod-blood in you.
No, you were a coward with confrontation. With emotions, with love. Mainly love. You couldn’t even confess to a someone without your stomach churning.
And how you expressed attraction was…not ideal, according to Silena. You kind of, sort of—just a tad made fun of some things you found attractive of them.
Ideally, you wanted to leave yourself out for the harpies to maul you when your crushes give you a look (you knew you fucked up).
Which is why you have stuck to the tactic of watch and admire from afar and be happy with just friendship.
A classic.
The bonfire burned high and orange as many of the older campers and counselors, including yourself, were hanging out without the responsibilities of taking care of your younger siblings.
The typical red solo cups were in the hands of every demigod. A mysterious mixture made by Dionysus’ twins, Pollux and Castor, occupied the container. They never told anyone the recipe or what’s in it, but it left a warm feeling in your chest.
“You keep staring and he’s bound to notice.” Silena sat next to you. “Or your eyes fall out.”
“I hate him. Why does he have to look like that?” You groaned and sipped your drink to distract you from your current crush.
Luke Castellan. The golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. He could charm anyone’s pants off with a smile. It was frustrating how good looking and friendly and cool and kind he was. Fuck him.
He was talking the Chris and Beckendorf about who knows what. Somehow, the Hermes counselor has yet to have a girlfriend. He’s probably a virgin. You could fix that.
“Honey…” Silena looked at you with concern in her eyes and a polite smile. “The whole sit and admire tactic is redundant. Talk to him.”
“Silena…” You whined and the girl was preparing herself to listen to your list of excuses of why you can’t.
“No, no—don’t whine like a baby!” Silena dumped the rest of her drink into your cup. Taking initiative, she made your chug like half. “Fess up or mess up! Take some liquid courage and go talk to him.”
“Silen—” You sputtered as your chest grew as warm as the bonfire. Your throat burned in a good way.
Whoever said Silena was the Camp’s Cupid was right and she was quite determined to get a start on pairing you and Luke. Just to see how it turns out, of course.
Next thing you know, you’re dragged over to Luke, Chris and Beckendorf; interrupting the boys’ conversation. Silena made up some lame excuse and said a quick introduction before shoving Chris and Beckendorf away from Luke and you.
Gods, he’s so gorgeous. His curly hair tosseles over his head. His eyes meeting yours as he sipped on his own drink. That amused smirk that paired so well with his scar—both working in favor of his boyish charm.
And suddenly he’s moving his mouth.
“Hey.” He said normal and polite as one would do. Obviously.
And you can’t help but think of Tangled. Specifically, the scene when Flynn Rider is tied up to a chair with Rapunzel’s hair. She interrogating him and all he could muster was a smolder and the word “Hey”, to try and charm his way out.
Luke looks out quizzically as you poorly try to stifle a mix between a giggle and a snort behind your hand. He must’ve thought you were crazy for laughing or extremely rude.
It’s frustrating how nervous you can be in front of your crushes.
“Hi—sorry…” You managed to quiet your laughs and awkwardly sip your drink. The words began flying out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop. “I was thinking about how you remind me of Flynn Rider from Tangled. How are you?”
“Tangled?” Luke tilted his head in confusion. Oh gods, has this boy never experience Disney movies? This just made it even more terribly awkward if he didn’t get the reference.
“Y’know…the girl with the glowing hair locked in a tower until Flynn Rider gets her out to see the lanterns in exchange for the crown?” You explained.
“Oh! Rapunzel.” Luke nodded. “Yeah I remember that. I always loved the lantern scene.”
“Me too! I’ve always wanted to experience something like that.” You agreed and looked over at the bonfire. Silena and Beckendorf encouraging you to keep talking to him.
Though Luke and you fell silent. Your mind wracking topics to talk about with him, but all you can think of is how handsome he is. Now looks aren’t everything, but his personality was a gorgeous as Elysium.
“Gods, you are just so handsome.” You find yourself admitting without even thinking about it. You find the words to talk to him about anything and everything, but your stumble.
Luke grabbed your arm. Stars dotting your vision. The “liquid courage” Silena forced down your throat catching up to you. “Hey, I think that’s enough drinking. Yeah?”
“Yeah…” You mumble as Luke leads you away from the bonfire and towards your cabin.
“Let’s get you back to your bunk, yeah? S’not good to be so drunk now.” He cared enough to walk you back to your cabin! It left a warm feeling in your body, or that was the Dionysus twins’ special drink.
The cabin door creaks open and Luke procures some water. You drink it as Luke crouches to get your converse off. Again, your heart is warm inside, but that could just be the alcohol.
Luke laid your blanket over your body. An amused smirk on his face. He found you drunk, cute. So, he decides to admit something hoping you’d remember tomorrow. You’re already half asleep when you hear this.
“I think you’re cute too. Let’s start out with watching Tangled first before we do anything, yeah?” Luke laughed quietly, trying not to wake your siblings. He wanted it to take it slow with you. Was this some drunk dream?
“Yeah…” You find yourself mumbling. Your eyes drooping shut before opening again. Struggling to stay awake to keep talking to Luke, you fall asleep.
Silena was a damn good Cupid.
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago
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Hairspray
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: pregnancy, before the outbreak, established relationship with joel, sarah is a little snitch, denial, age gap (not really specified), descriptions of childbirth, money insecurity, 2003 references
a/n this was too good to give up. lets pretend that the outbreak never happened and the miller’s got to live happily ever after :)
summary Sarah finds Y/N’s hidden pregnancy tests
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read time: 6 mins 14 seconds
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The phone was new. Joel had installed it a few weeks ago. No more cord! Your opposite hand felt awkward not having something to fidget with while your sister told you the horror stories of her giving birth. Something Mandy had brought up numerous times after confiding in her that you were pregnant.
It was your first; you were in your mid-20s. War was happening overseas, the world seemed to be going to shit. What a perfect time to bring a child into the world, huh? Your husband would be ecstatic, you just knew it. But the mere thought of something growing inside of you made you sick. “And then the feet came out instead! Ripped me open like-” You jumped a little. Facing the front door, you didn’t hear your husband come in from the back. His hands wrapped around your stomach as your shoulders pressed against his chest as your sister went on about telling you how her third kid cost her sixteen stitches.
A sharp gasp came from your mouth. “Are you alright? Is it the baby?” your sister yelled from the phone. Panicked, you quickly said your goodbyes to your older sister, assuring her everything was alright. You decided to give in to the kisses Joel was placing on your neck.
“What was she going on about now? Babies? Please tell me she’s not having another one.” Joel groaned. “Nope. Nine was enough for her,” you sarcastically answered. Four nieces and five nephews were enough for you to handle. Sarah enjoyed having kids her age to play with, but Uncle Joel was getting a bit too old for the rough play the younger ones enjoyed.
“What time is it?” you asked him, grabbing at his wrist. His hands were placed on your stomach almost like he knew. His watch read a little before three. “Sarah?” you asked him, swaying with him slowly. “Tommy’s coming over and we’re going to go work on a job,” he sighed.
 “Again? Joel-”
“I’m sorry, It’s a quick one. Just a little steel door frame and I’ll be home late for dinner. I promise,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. You would need more cash once the baby came.
“I’ll go get her.” you sighed, but not in an angry way. You loved your stepdaughter more than anything in the world. You have known her since she was a small girl and have gotten along with her since the day you met her. She is going to be the best big sister.
Joel handed you the truck keys. Tommy’s car beeped in the driveway. “Give Tommy my love,” you called to Joel as you heard the screen door shut. --- A mainstream pop song quietly played in the truck as you waited in line at Sarah’s middle school. Parents were eager to leave and the San Antonio traffic was bound to be crazy on a Friday afternoon. You spotted your curly-haired stepdaughter as she left the school doors with some friends. You recognized a few from the sleepover she had last week. “Do you have any hairspray?” she asked, throwing her backpack in the back seat. “Yes?”
“Perfect.” Sarah responded. “May I ask why?” “Tiffany and Ashley gave me the recipe for a new oobleck!”
Sarah excitedly waved a loose-leaf piece of paper with a sparky pink gel pen scribbled all over the paper in her stepmom's face. “Hairspray is the main ingredient,” she explained, going over all the ingredients she needed. You smiled to yourself, carefully exiting the middle school parking lot as Sarah rambled about her day.
Sarah burst into the house, setting her backpack down and heading straight towards the kitchen. “Do we have any… flour?” she asked, reading off her list. “Red jar, babes.” you stated the obvious. The flour had been in there for years. “And the hairspray?” She asked. You sat down on the couch, fatigued by what you assumed was your pregnancy. Rubbing your temples, you replied, “Under my sink.”
Sarah burst into the bathroom, whipping open the cabinet door under your sink. In her excitement, the jolting movement of the door opening vaulted the zip-loc bag of pregnancy tests you had taped to the top of the cabinet out on the floor. Confused at first, she held up one of the blue sticks. Then she got it. “Y/N?” she yelled from the bathroom. Sarah was old enough to know what these were, and what two lines meant. Once she realized she was holding a stick of what you peed on, she threw it back in the pile of the rest of them sprawled out on the floor.
Sighing, you kicked your feet back on the ground. You had just gotten comfortable when Sarah called for you.
“Hm?” you asked, causally walking into your bedroom. Your tired state seemed to do a complete 180 when you saw Sarah on the ground with your tests. You froze, unsure of what to say to her. Rapidly blinking your eyes a few times to stop tears, you realized that there was no going back from this. Without a single word spoken you crouched down, collected the pregnancy test strips, and put them back in the bag. Seeing the loose pieces of tape, you used them to adhere the bag back where it was. You handed Sarah the red printed bottle of your hairspray.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, sitting at the edge of the bathtub. “A-are they yours?” she anxiously asked. A small laugh came from you. “Yes,” you smiled. “I’m going to be a sister?” she asked you. You shook your head yes.
“Does Dad know?”
The world seemed to blur a bit when she asked that. You could feel your heartbeat increase at the thought. “No. Not yet.” “What!” Sarah gasped. “How long have you known?” “About three weeks.” “Three weeks!” Sarah yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s difficult to… come to terms sometimes,” you said, trying to come up with the best way to explain this to Sarah. “You have to tell him. Tonight!” Sarah exclaimed.
You hated to admit that she was right.
“I don’t know Sarah, he’s out on a job with your Uncle and…” “I will call him. Try me.”
You looked at her, unsure of her new aggressive demeanor. She was always a natural leader. “Sarah, this is serious.”
“I know.” she said simply, exiting the bathroom. You followed her, watching her like a hawk for the rest of the night. And the rest of the night consisted of you making dinner, ravioli. Sarah was in the kitchen and made her ooblek and when that was done she finished her homework.
  You sighed when the clock rang eight. He was more than late for supper. Sarah was asleep in your lap, the mindless cartoons played on. You watched them, trying to calm your anxious mind.
  You heard Tommy’s truck pull into the driveway and saw its headlights as he left the driveway. Sarah stirred a bit, but a simple smoothing of her hair soothed her back to sleep. Joel quietly made his way into the house, only noticing the two of you when he locked the door.
  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. You shrugged. Joel sat down next to you. “How is she? Is her homework done?”
  “Yup.” you said coldly. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry I was late but the hardware store was out of the screws we needed and Tommy’s car was having an issue so we had to stop and get some-”
You couldn’t listen to Joel’s rambling any longer. You frankly didn’t care about some damn screws. It had to be done, and it had to be done now. Sarah was right, he deserved to know.
  “I’m pregnant.”
Joel’s ramblings ended. A moment of silence lasted between the two of you. “Really?” he asked, a tiny awkward squeak coming from his voice at the end. “Mhm. Sarah found the tests. Under the sink, taped to the top of the cabinet if you want to see for yourself.”
Joel sat. “Huh,” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the shared bathroom you guys had. He came back a moment later, his face was white as a sheet of paper.
  “Can we financially do this?” you whispered, knowing Sarah was well faking her sleep and listening. Joel shrugged, plopping back down next to you. He knew this was a big issue and it would have to be discussed later. They were doing well, but Joel knew firsthand a baby on a small income was expensive. “I’m happy, if you couldn’t tell.” he said, a little bit of hope rang in his tone. “I could. My reaction was the same.” you assured him. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Everything will be okay.” he said, entwining his fingers with yours. “How long have you known?”
You seethed. “Don’t kill me.” “Maybe,” he said flirtatiously. You loved when he still flirted with you, even though you had been together forever and you were his wife. “Three weeks.”
He sighed audibly. “How far along are you?” “Don’t kill me.” you reiterated. “I have no clue. I haven't even been to a doctor yet, Mandy’s horror stories are traumatizing enough.”
  “We’re making an appointment first thing tomorrow,” he assured you. You shook your head in agreement.
  “Does she know?” he whispered, looking down at his daughter. He was so excited to be able to give Sarah a sibling. His bond with Tommy was unmatchable. Even though there would be a significant age gap between them, he still loved his little brother like no other. Even if they were six years apart, they were close. “She’s the one who found the tests.” you quietly chuckled, reminding Joel of what you said earlier. “She was threatening to call you at work and ‘expose me’,” you told Joel. He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, that damn kid.” he smiled, giving Sarah’s fluffy hair a pat just like you did moments before. He brought his hand back to yours and moved the back of your hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I love you,”
“I love you too,”
“And our little family.” you added. “Yes, and our little family.” Joel confirmed.
(if this story was spaced weirdly, apologies)- tag list
@dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko​ @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @kittenlittle24
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rispwr · 4 months ago
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˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ || blog recs!! || writers and their fics that you should definitely check out or readd!! (Or their fics that i cannot count how many times ive reread it) || ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
A/n : okay so like i was renewing my readlist and i thought why not share the writers that has really really good fics? (My fav fic of theirs will be tagged below their user) I don’t gatekeep😍i’m also doing this on mobile so don’t expect it to be cute n shit (i’m going crazy with these cute ahh symbols AGHHH)
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @redcherrykook
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ torn pictures and frozen lenses (i love these typa fics where they start of okay but not really okay😭 not really an enemies to lovers but they start off with kinda a bad impression w each other? It’s really cutee😭)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @muniimyg
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ nonesense (fav smau besides bbydaddy!jk au)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbydaddy!jk au (i cannot count how many times ive cried, laugh, giggle, kick my feet at this fic. I swear it’s just THAT good)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @awrkive
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the love prognosis (CURRENT READ. I love this😭)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cold nights and blurry lines (got me kicking and giggling after reading this)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @slut4jeon
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ everybody knows that im a goodgirl officer (i fr lover this. Its one of my read it over and over again list)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @slutforgguk
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ idol (idk what’s up w me or like i lowkey got a kink with semi public sxx😭)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @luvismenu
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ strange addiction (i love love love love love this)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @frmisnow
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ how to get your bestie in 5 steps (EEEEKKK i love thissszzs)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @ririkookiemonster
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ breaking point (i have a literal weird ahh kink about getting caught and shit but anyway this is in my ‘read it over and over again list’)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @badbtssmut
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ex with benefits ( tihi in my read it over and over again list tooo)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @personasintro
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mutual help (ive been reading this since like last year😭 it’s the fic that got downloading tumblr and start reading on ao3)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @jjkilll
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the recipe (once again in my read it over and over again list)
Im gonna post my read it over and over again list next😭
Edit: yall my phone died while i was editing this😭 I wasn’t done w the reviews and shit😭
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culinary-vagabond · 11 days ago
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Cookbook Thoughts: Turkuaz Kitchen by Betül Tunç
Partner gave me a copy of this for Solstice (2024) which means it had to go on the cookbook list this year. The list will get too long otherwise!
I was pre-pandemic more of the baker between Partner and I. Then Covid-19 hit and Partner got into sourdough breads, then started making other breads too. It's about 50/50 now, and I am excited to try doughs and bakes from an area of the world I haven't cooked much from.
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I am having somewhat of a mismatch in expectations and reality with this one: there's recipes from all over, including French pastry dough, when I was expecting a book containing entirely Turkish dishes. That said, there's still a lot in here that I'm excited to bake and cook. So many desserts...
Khachapuri — (cheese and egg bread)
Ciabatta
Spinach-Artichoke Stuffed Garlic Knots
Pitas — (we have a pita recipe, but it's a little mid, so we're making this one and seeing what we can do to improve. maybe it's just using this one, maybe it's combining the two)
Creme Brulee French Toast with Vanilla Sauce — (I was told if I didn't make it, Partner would)
Swedish Cardamom Buns
Pistachio Rolls
Bienenstich (German Bee Sting Cake)
Pumpkin Scones
Vegan Lemon Blueberry Scones
Zucchini Cream Cheese Biscuits
Spinach-Mushroom Deep-Dish Quiche
Tahini Cookies
Brown Butter & Sage Gnocchi — (I'm not sure, but I think I already have this. I'll have to page through my collection of recipes to check)
Simit
Lahmacun with Onion Salad
Turkish Pistachio Baklava
Grandma's Lavash
Poğaça
Su Böreği (Water Börek)
Feta Hand Pies
Kalburabasti — (cookies drizzled in syrup)
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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago
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Enough for You: Part 3
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SUMMARY: After he showed up unexpectedly at your door trying to make amends, you and Tyler spend a cozy evening together, starting with making dinner in the kitchen as light banter fills the space. After a fun and easygoing meal, the two of you curl up on the couch to watch TV, enjoying each other's presence and sharing quiet moments. As the night winds down, you ask Tyler to stay the night, feeling comforted by his warmth and company. Tyler, happy to stay, holds you close as you both drift off into a peaceful sleep, deepening the bond that has grown between you.
WARNINGS: Fluff.
WORD COUNT: 2.5k
OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2
NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.
TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891
Later you and Tyler had settled into the comfort of your couch as the world outside seems to fade away. The warmth of his presence next to you, the way his hand rests on your knee, and the steady rhythm of his breathing create a bubble of serenity around you. Time feels like it’s slowing down as you both get lost in the closeness and talk. The tension from the past week melts away as you slowly lean your head on his shoulder. You hadn’t planned to spend the past few hours on the couch with him, but it’s as though neither of you can bear to let go of the other.
It isn’t until the soft grumble of a stomach fills the silence that you both freeze, then exchange an amused look. 
"Was that you or me?" Tyler teases with a chuckle, his hand giving your knee a playful squeeze. 
You can’t help but laugh, realizing how long you’ve been so engrossed in each other that dinner slipped both your minds. “I guess we kind of forgot to eat,” you say, grinning up at him. 
"Guess it's time to get out of this cocoon and figure out dinner, huh?" Tyler jokes, but neither of you seem quite ready to move.
Tyler glances around your apartment and then nods toward the kitchen. “How about we cook something here? I’m no chef, but I think I can handle pasta this time.”
You raise an eyebrow, the memory of his past cooking adventures making you smirk. “Are you sure you’re up for the challenge? Last time you tried to make pasta, we almost had to call the fire department”
He laughs, shaking his head. You bite back a smile, feeling a sense of ease wash over you as you both drift toward the kitchen, the earlier tension between you replaced with a playful energy. It feels natural—like slipping back into a rhythm you didn’t realize you missed. Together, you start pulling out ingredients, ready to tackle dinner as a team, side by side.
“You’re actually going to follow the recipe this time, right?” you tease, referencing that one infamous night with the team when his attempt at cooking had been… less than successful.
He rolls his eyes dramatically but grins, a mock-serious tone in his voice. “I promise, no improvising tonight. We’re sticking to the directions like my life depends on it.”
You laugh, stepping up beside him as he starts boiling the water. Together, you work on the sauce—chopping garlic, stirring in tomatoes, and adding the perfect amount of seasoning. The kitchen fills with the rich, savory aroma, and the easy banter between you feels as natural as breathing. You catch him stealing glances at you now and then, the soft kind of looks that make your heart skip a beat.
At one point, you’re standing close, both concentrating on the sauce. Tyler hands you a spoon and nods toward the pan. “Go on, taste test. Let’s see if we nailed it.”
You take a bite, humming in approval, but before you can respond, Tyler’s gaze sharpens. His lips twitch into a grin. 
“You’ve got a little… right there,” he says, gesturing to your lower lip where some of the sauce must have landed.
Before you can wipe it away, Tyler steps closer, his eyes fixed on yours as his hand reaches up. His thumb brushes gently against your lip, lingering for just a second too long. There’s a charged silence, the air between you suddenly thick with tension.
Then, in one smooth motion, Tyler’s lips hover over yours. Instead of wiping the sauce away, he closes the distance and gently kisses it off, his lips brushing yours in a brief, heated moment. His mouth lingers for a beat, as if considering whether to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.
You feel your heart race as his thumb traces a light line across your lip, and you both let out soft laughs to ease the tension, though neither of you moves far away from each other.
“Well, I’d say that’s pretty good,” Tyler says, his voice low, and the double meaning doesn’t escape you.
After a second, you step back, breaking the tension with a smile. “Let’s see if the rest of the meal lives up to that standard.”
You sit down together at your small dining table, a cozy space that feels perfect for the two of you. The pasta is simple, but delicious, and you both dig in, the conversation flowing effortlessly.
Tyler leans back, twirling his fork in the pasta. “So, be honest… was the sauce better than last time?” he asks with a grin, clearly referring to his past kitchen disasters.
You smirk and tilt your head. “It was way better. This time, I didn’t feel like I was risking my life.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Nope,” you say with a grin, taking another bite. The warmth between you isn’t just from the food—it’s from the way you feel sitting across from him, sharing something simple, yet meaningful.
The conversation meanders from lighthearted memories of the team to more personal things. Tyler shares a little about his week, and you talk about yours. Every now and then, he’ll throw in a joke that makes you laugh, and each time, his smile grows wider, like your laughter is exactly what he needed to hear.
At some point, the meal slows down, and the pauses between words become longer. But the silences aren’t awkward—they’re comfortable, filled with the sound of utensils against plates and the occasional soft smile exchanged between you both.
Tyler leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking. 
“This feels good,” he says quietly, almost to himself. His eyes linger on yours, and you know he’s talking about more than just the dinner.
You nod, your heart swelling with a quiet happiness. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “It does.”
With dinner finished and the dishes stacked in the sink, the atmosphere between you and Tyler has settled into something soft and warm, like an easy current pulling you both along. The quiet hum of the street outside your apartment window is a gentle backdrop as you both make your way to the couch, the leftovers tucked away and the weight of the evening hanging in the air like a comfortable blanket.
You grab a couple of throw pillows and settle into your usual corner of the couch, feeling the softness beneath you as Tyler sits next to you, his arm casually resting along the back. His presence feels different tonight—not distant, not guarded—just close. Like the space between you both has finally disappeared, leaving only a warmth that feels entirely new but somehow familiar.
“You know,” Tyler says, leaning back, “this is probably the most relaxed I’ve felt in a while.” He tilts his head toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Though that might be the carbs talking.”
You laugh, the sound light and effortless. “I guess a successful meal can do that.”
His eyes twinkle. “I told you I’d follow the recipe this time.”
There’s a pause, the kind where neither of you feels the need to fill it. The quiet hum of your living room lamp and the distant sounds of life beyond your apartment windows make the world feel small, like it's just the two of you in this cozy bubble. You pull your legs up underneath you, feeling the comfort of the moment settle in.
Tyler glances over at the TV remote sitting on the coffee table. “Movie?” he suggests, though there’s an undertone in his voice that says he’s just as content to keep talking, to keep soaking in this rare and quiet space you’ve found together.
“Yeah,” you nod, reaching for the remote. “Something light.”
As you scroll through your options, you feel Tyler shift closer to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. It’s subtle but enough to send a pleasant warmth coursing through you. You glance over and catch him looking at you, his expression soft, almost thoughtful, as though he’s savoring every second of this moment.
“You pick,” he says softly. “I’ll watch whatever you want.”
You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “Even if it’s a rom-com?”
He chuckles, leaning back. “Even if it’s a rom-com. I’m trying to earn brownie points here.”
You laugh, and before long, you settle on a movie—a lighthearted one neither of you has seen before. But as it begins to play, you find that you’re more aware of Tyler’s presence next to you than anything happening on the screen. 
His arm eventually slides down from the back of the couch, wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side. The contact is natural, easy, like he’s done it a thousand times before. And maybe, in some alternate version of your life, he has.
For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows around the room. At some point, your head naturally leans into his shoulder, and his fingers trace light, absentminded circles on your arm. You feel his steady breathing, his heart beating in rhythm with yours.
Tyler’s voice breaks the quiet after a while, soft and almost hesitant. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him. “I’m really glad I came tonight.”
His words are simple, but the weight of them lingers. You feel a swell of warmth in your chest, and you nod, a smile spreading across your face.
“Me too.”
He holds your gaze for a moment longer before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. It’s tender, full of unspoken promises that neither of you are rushing to put into words just yet.
The movie drones on in the background, but for the rest of the night, the only thing that matters is the quiet, cozy space the two of you have built together—one that feels like it’s always been waiting for this moment.
As the credits roll on the movie, the soft hum of the television is the only sound in the room. You glance over at Tyler, who’s been quiet for the last few minutes, his arm still wrapped comfortably around you. The warmth of his body feels like an anchor, keeping you grounded in this perfect, simple moment.
Tyler shifts slightly, and with a gentle touch, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the peace you’ve found together.
You smile, a soft, genuine smile, and nod. “Yeah,” you whisper back, the word carrying more meaning than its simplicity suggests. Everything feels right in this moment—more right than anything has in a long time.
Tyler’s eyes flicker with something deeper as he leans in, brushing his lips gently against yours. The kiss is slow, tender, as if he’s savoring it, committing every second to memory. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he asks again, quieter this time, “You sure?”
You look up into his eyes, feeling a rush of emotion well up inside you. You could pretend to be calm, but the truth is, this moment feels like a turning point, like everything you’ve been waiting for is finally within reach. “I don’t want you to leave,” you confess, your voice soft but filled with vulnerability. The words hang in the air, delicate and full of meaning.
Tyler pauses for a beat, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His gaze holds yours, as though he’s searching for any hint of uncertainty. “I can stay,” he says, his voice low and careful, “if you want me to.”
You feel your chest tighten at the tenderness in his words, and you nod, your heart racing. “I want you to stay,” you murmur, the vulnerability in your voice now mirrored by the warmth in his eyes. 
You smile, and without saying anything more, you take his hand, leading him down the short hallway to your bedroom. Once inside, the atmosphere shifts slightly—more intimate, more real. You reach for a pair of soft pajamas while Tyler tugs off his shirt, the sound of fabric falling to the floor barely registering as you change. When you turn around, you find him standing there, stripped down to his boxers, watching you with that same look in his eyes—like he’s seeing you for the first time.
You both climb into bed, the sheets cool and inviting. Tyler lies back, his arm automatically reaching out for you, an open invitation. Without hesitation, you curl up into his side, your head resting on his chest as his arm wraps around you, holding you close. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that makes you feel completely safe.
For a few moments, the two of you just lie there, the silence between you filled with the kind of comfort that doesn’t need words. But eventually, Tyler’s fingers start tracing lazy patterns on your back, and his voice breaks the quiet.
“This feels good,” he says softly, his breath warm against the top of your head.
You nod, your eyes half-closed, the weight of the day finally catching up with you. “It does,” you agree, your voice thick with sleep.
There’s a brief pause before Tyler speaks again, quieter this time. “I’ve missed you.” His fingers continue their gentle path along your back, his voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken between you.
You tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. His expression is soft, and in the dim light of the room, you can see the tenderness in his eyes. “I’ve missed you too,” you admit, the words coming out in a sleepy murmur as you feel yourself beginning to drift off.
Tyler’s hand stills on your back, and you feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the warmth of his lips lingering against your skin. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, his voice barely audible now. “I’ll be right here.”
And with that, you let the last of your worries fade away. You’re safe, comfortable, wrapped up in Tyler’s arms. The world outside can wait—right now, all that matters is this moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, and the warmth of his body next to yours.
Tyler stays awake for a few minutes longer, watching as your breathing evens out and your body relaxes against his. A small smile tugs at his lips as he presses another kiss to your forehead, his heart full. “Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he whispers, though he knows you’ve already fallen asleep. He closes his eyes then, pulling you even closer as he finally allows himself to drift off too, knowing that when morning comes, you’ll still be right there, next to him.
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matchalovertrait · 3 months ago
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The day after Caruso posted his video, Dulce responded with one of her own to disprove his false claims about the "stolen" recipes. She brought up her extensive list of culinary experiences and screenshots of everything related to the cookbook when it was in progress. However, the damage had been done. Too many people turned their backs on Dulce. As everything came crashing down, she slowly stopped responding to her family and friends. Of course, everyone was alarmed. You can't just not respond like that out of the blue, especially when you're overseas! Now that Ángel and Esperanza have come to save the day, Dulce is looking to sue Caruso for defamation. I did say to never get into legal trouble with her! This marks the rebirth of Alegría v. Caruso!
Note: I am getting political here. As Election Day in the United States is around the corner, I urge people to fact-check everything. I'm seeing too many people on other social media platforms not doing the proper research. They see a video of one thing and take it as the sole truth. It seems like people have forgotten how to use Google, which is right at our fingertips. Make sure you're looking at reliable sources!
Start from the beginning (Gen 2)
Previous | Next
Transcript:
Dulce: I swear! That better not be him. A lot of people didn’t believe me or they didn’t bother to watch my explanation video. How am I supposed to recover from this?
Ángel: Dulce!
Dulce: Ángel and Esperanza?!
Ángel: Why haven’t you been answering anyone’s phone calls or texts??? It’s been 2 days.
Dulce: My career is over. My numbers are plummeting. People are crossing out my name on my cookbook and writing his name instead. Clients are canceling bookings with me. His crazy fans are giving me fake bad reviews. I’m through.
Esperanza: So what? It hasn’t been that long. Things can pick back up, Dulce. Why don’t you get your chef friends to vouch for you?
Dulce: I don’t want to rope anyone into my mess..
Esperanza: [Sighs] You know what? It’s sad to see you like this. Aren’t you going to plot something?
Dulce: I’ve done enough harm as it is! What do I do??? Sue him??? Oh wait, I already thought of that! I looked into it and no good lawyer wants to take the case. They’d rather represent actual stars like Judith Ward. I need to take this as a sign and finally grow up.
Ángel: C’mon, you know you want to do it.
Dulce: You’re encouraging it...? You don’t want to teach me a valuable life lesson like always?
Ángel: I think you learned your lesson. Make him learn his now.
Esperanza: My dad and Hilary both said they can help you pay for a REALLY good defamation lawyer. I think Hilary was freaking out the most about you not answering.
Ángel: Well, we all kinda were. You had Ama worried sick. But we didn’t file a missing person’s report because your friend came by and saw you well alive through your window.
Dulce: Oh, man. Dani probably got nervous and ran off. She never came to knock on the door.
Ángel: She’s a skittish one, isn’t she?
Dulce: Yeah, I have to apologize to her for not responding to her texts either. She knows about everything, but she might feel like she’s annoying me because I haven’t answered.
Esperanza: Wait, isn’t she a paralegal?
Dulce: Oh my gosh, you’re right! How’d I forget that? She might know someone who can help!
Ángel: Looks like we have a plan, then.
Esperanza: Um, I think part of this plan should be helping you clean up this place. Go put detergent in the washer, Ángel. I’ll get the clothes.
Dulce: My clothes??? Oh, no. They’ve been washed and dried. I just haven’t put them away. The only mess here is in my mind.
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sunshine-theseus · 1 year ago
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Apple and Chocolate Muffins | Katie McCabe x Reader
Words: 1.9k Summary: owning a café apparently brings you the girl of your dreams Warnings: fluff
Having your own little book café on a corner of a small street in St Albans, London, brings you things you’d never expect.
I’d first bought the place from an older lady, Ms Nelson, who sold antiques. She’d decided she wanted to spend whatever time she had left travelling. She tried to simply give it to me, but I couldn’t accept and ended up paying her half of what was listed.
She likes to send me post cards whenever she’s about to leave a place. I put the most recent on display on the counter and the rest go in an antique memento box she gifted me before she left.
Ms Nelson also introduced me to my best friend Juniper, one of her old workers who helps run the place now.
“3 years here and you still refuse to tell me what your special recipe is. Whyyy?” Juniper’s favourite item, was my special apple and chocolate muffins. It was an item I refused to take off no matter how many times we changed the menu.
“They wouldn’t be a secret then would they June?”
“But I’m your best friend. And I need these in my life daily.”
“I literally make an extra 3, every night, just for you.”
The ringing of the bell on the door stops her from retaliating, and I approach the counter while June finally makes an order for Mr Byrne, one of our regulars.
“Welcome to the Inkwell Café! What can I get you?” I look at the customer, but my breath gets caught in my throat.
It’s like the Gods just sent down and angel to derail my day. Her eyes were a greyish blue and her skin was sun kissed, freckles scattering her cheeks. And her arms… well fuck me.
“Hello?” I hadn’t even realised I’d stopped paying attention until she waves a hand in front of my face.
“S- sorry could you repeat that?” I let out a nervous chuckle, but she just smiles a magnificent smile.
She starts listing off an order and I momentarily get caught off by her Irish accent, but I manage to take down the 3 different drinks. I’m about to tell her the total when she stops me again.
“Oh! And can I get one of those apple and chocolate muffins? Jonas is going to kill me, but I hear they’re worth it.” I give her a confused look.
“My friend Steph, she comes here once a month as a treat and raves about it at training.” Training?
“Oh! Well, here’s an extra one for her! For free of course. What’s the name for the order?”
“Katie”
“It will be ready soon.” I flash a smile before going to make the coffees.
June comes out of nowhere.
“Why is Katie fucking McCabe in here?” she whispers into my ear.
“Who?”
“Katie McCabe. One of the best Arsenal players ever? Captain for the Republic of Ireland Women’s National Football team? How do you not know her? I talk about Arsenal all the time. They literally train right down the road.” I stare blankly back at her.
“How did she even find us? You don’t casually find this café on your way to work.”
“She said her friend Steph comes here, told her about it.”
“Steph Cately!? I’ve never seen Steph Cately walk through those doors.”
“…Who? And you do tend to not pay attention.” Juniper just groans and I finish making the coffees.
“Katie!” as I give her the drinks, her hand brushes against my own. Tingles run up my arm, but I bid her adieu with a small smile and wave.
~~~~~
Katie begins coming in every Tuesday and Friday, and we slowly get to know each other while Juniper freaks out in the corner. Or sometimes Katie liked to just sit and read in a corner for whatever time she had before she left for training. Either way it was nice.
She loved telling me about her younger sister Lauryn who was on her way to joining Katie on their senior national team, and her crazy encounters on the pitch during games. I tell her about how and why I decided to open a book café and retell the stories Ms Nelson sends me. I also desperately try to repress all my feelings for the Irish angel that blessed my shop every week.
I also find out who Steph is. A very nice Australian woman, who does in fact come in once a month for the Apple and Chocolate muffin. I get to know her a bit too, but she usually grabs her muffin and something for her fiancée and leaves.
The first time Katie misses a Tuesday is 4 months after her first visit. I’m disappointed but don’t think much of it until she doesn’t show up on Friday, or either day the week following. That’s when I decide to visit their training ground, obviously dragging June along to do any talking, to see if I can figure out what happened.
I don’t think about how weird it is until Juniper pulls me out of the car in front of their training centre at 9am on Friday after hurriedly closing the café. And a promise for a free coffee to everyone we had to kick out.
“June this was stupid, this is something you do, not me. Why didn’t you talk me out of it.”
“I’m about to meet the whole Arsenal team just because your huge crush failed to come for her regular coffee a few times.”
“But like it is weird she just stopped coming so abruptly, right? Like we were getting along.”
“I mean sure, but you didn’t freak out like this when Mickie stopped coming. And it took us another six months to find out she’d moved to fucking Glasgow.”
“We should leave shouldn’t we.”
I turn around to head back to the car right as we’re about to enter the reception but come face to face with a slightly shorter brunette. One I’ve seen the face of in some recent team photo Katie had shown me, but was otherwise completely unfamiliar.
“Are you trying to get in? The door can be a little tricky sometimes.” How many Australians did they have here?
“Oh no-“
“Yes! We’re friends of Katie; Y/n and Juniper, and we haven’t seen her in a few weeks. We were hoping to catch her.”
“Oh! I think she’s shown us a picture of you actually! She talks about you both quite a bit. I’m Kyra by the way.”
“I know.”
“Nice to meet you.” I talk over Juniper and hold out a hand for Kyra to shake.
“Well, I’m not quite sure why she hasn’t come to see you, but I can bring you back to the locker room, you’ll just need to fill some forms out probably.” She’s already leading us to the front desk before I can deny her offer.
 Not 5 minutes later Kyra is happily dragging us to the locker room, and I can see Juniper skipping next to me, clearly excited.
“Dude you’ve gotta calm down.” I whisper to her.
“More like you need to stop being so uptight. Kyra Cooney-Cross is literally leading us to the whole Arsenal women’s team.”
“McCaaaabe! Someone’s here to see yoouuu.” Kyra calls out as soon as she opens the door.
“It’s not my bloody mum again is it? I swear she decides to come surprise me far too often.”
I peak out from behind Kyra and give a small wave.
“Hiii” I say meekly as Juniper jumps into talking to her favourite players.
“What are you doing here?” Katie gives me a quick hug.
“Well, you kinda stopped showing up and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Oh, y- yeah. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just, I started getting feelings for you and freaked out and thought that cutting you off would help.”
“Y- you like me?”
“Yeah. Like a lot. I obviously totally understand you don’t like me back.” She lets out a sigh and looks at her boots.
“Shh shoosh shut up.” I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up.
It was hard to escape the doom of falling in love with Katie McCabe. Her eyes were the perfect shade of blue, her lips the softest of pinks, her freckles like the stars. She had the kindest of hearts and the most beautiful laugh. A creation made by Aphrodite herself.
“I really like you too.” And her lips are softer than you could imagine as she presses her’s hard against my own.
We’re broken apart by an array of whistles and shouts from Juniper and Katie’s teammates and I hide my flushed face in her neck.
“I can’t believe we finally get to meet the girl Katie hasn’t shut up about for like 4 months.” Alessia Russo, one player I am familiar with, comments from across the room.
“You talk about me?” I poke her in the side.
“Y/n you can’t talk you literally don’t shut up about Katie. ‘Oh my god she’s sooo funny and pretty.’”
“Bro what the fuck? That was a secret you were meant to take to your grave.” Juniper simply shrugs.
“As much as I want to stay and tease you about how much you talk about me, and kiss you, we do unfortunately have training.” Katie pouts as she hugs me.
“Oh! Before I forget. I brought you an apple and chocolate muffin.” I pull the baked good from my bag and hand it to her.
“Fuuuck yees! You are literally the best person ever. I need to know your recipe so bad.”
“Mmmm maybe I could teach you how to make them. Tonight, at the café?”
“I’VE BEEN ASKING FOR THAT RECIPE FOR 3 FUCKING YEARS AND YOU’RE GOING TO JUST HAND IT OVER TO HER?” Juniper’s outburst makes the room erupt in giggles.
“How about for your birthday?” She nods solemnly and begins to say goodbye to the other girls as they begin to head out to the pitch for training.
I turn back to Katie.
“I’ll see you tonight…” She leans up and kisses me one more time.
“Girlfriend.” She leaves before I can reply, and I’m left to giggle as Juniper drives us back to the café, to reluctantly reopen for the rest of the day.
~~~~~
The clock shows 6:13 and I begin to think Katie flaked, but right as I’m packing up the ingredients, the bell rings and in rushes a flushed, panting, Katie McCabe.
“I’m so… sorry! Caitlin could only… drop me… a few blocks away… so I had to… run.” She pants out.
“It’s ok.” I peck her on the cheek and take her coat, then offer her some water which she sculls down.
We spend hours baking and messing around. Mostly kissing.
~~~~~
Another 6 months pass before Katie and I decide to move in together in a small apartment down the street from the café.
She now helps me bake my apple and chocolate muffins once a week, insisting she has to always be in a simple cropped singlet after I had made a comment about how good her arms looked when she mixes the batter.
There was something so domestic about baking together that made it hard not to just scream to the world how much I loved the woman. Instead, I stick to wrapping my arms around her waist and whispering it in her ear, periodically kissing her while she cuts the apples or mixes whatever needs mixing.
I can’t wait to tell Ms Nelson her apple and chocolate muffins brought me the most beautiful girl in the world. She and her wife have been begging for a new post card.
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danikamariewrites · 9 months ago
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I LOVE your Feysand & Reader fics. Especially the housewife series. Could I please request a fic that takes place shortly after Gone Girl where they've been overprotective for a few months and it's really starting to grate on her nerves. She needs a break from them in Velaris. One of her solo shipping trips. Something where she purchases presents for both of them. Maybe she stops at a cafe for crepes and hot chocolate. And she knows that she's being tailed but takes it as the big step it is.
Over My Shoulder
Feysand x reader
a/n: I'm so sorry requests are taking so long, I think I've hit a bit of a writing slump. I love this idea so much and they would def be very overprotective of reader. Also, I've seen all your kind comments and want to say thank you❤️.
warnings: none
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For the first few weeks after the incident you didn't leave the house. It was your choice at first. Feeling more comfortable under Feyre and Rhys's watchful eyes. You wouldn't even walk Nyx to school unless your mates or other members of the Inner Circle were with you.
Hell, you wouldn't even go to the farmers market. You sent Cassian and Azriel once which was a huge mistake. As you had unpacked the bags with them the warriors were so proud. That was until you had to educate them on the differnce between cabbage and lettuce.
Azriel was giving his brother a look that said I told you so. Cassian had pursed his lips dropping the cabbage on the counter. He the proceeded to hold out a yam, asking if it wasn't a special potato.
When the weather started to turn you started to go stir crazy. Just sitting in the garden and going on short walks wasn't cutting it anymore.
"I think I'm ready to go out. Like in town and stuff." You bring up that night as the three of you lay in bed. Feyre and Rhys freeze next to you. You didn't need the bond to feel the nervous energy radiating from them.
They didn't need to say they were scared of letting you out of their sight. Rhys has always been terrified to be away from you and Feyre. But after somethig like this. Your kidnapping still felt fresh to them.
Rhys pulls you tightly to his chest, rubbing your hair soothingly. You feel Feyre move, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your back. Before they can say anything you add, "Not alone, not for awhile. But with you guys or the family." Your mates seemed to relax at that.
"Ok," Feyre mumbled. "Why don't we go to the cafe you like after we walk Nyx to school." "I'd like that." You mumble into Rhys's chest.
It took you a few weeks to get comfortable. Then some more time to trust anyone who wasn't Feyre and Rhys. It broke Cassian's heart to see you so jumpy.
Months later you finally gained the confidence to venture out on your own. Feyre and Rhys were hesitant to let you go. You wanted your independence back, it's been driving you nuts having them breathe down your neck. It started feeling like you were a kid they were babysitting.
You wanted to get back to your routine. It is Thrusday, meaning it's family night. And what better way to get into your routine than food shopping and setting up for game night.
You decided to pull out all the stops for tonight. On your to do list is find a new board game and make a dessert you found in a new recipe book the House of Wind so kindly gifted you on your last visit.
Leaving the house you gave them each a kiss goodbye. You couldn't leave fast enough honestly. It felt like they were letting you go a little too easy. Stepping onto the porch you shrugged the feeling off, basking in the mid-morning sun before starting the walk into town.
With an iced coffee in hand you set out on your little shopping adventure. After your stop in the toy store for a new game you ran into Mor. Instead of just saying hello she continued walking with you until the farmers market.
Picking up an apple you swear you see a shadow quickly slink to the ground. Tilting your head your eyes wander across the fruit selections, watching for any other shadows. You continue with shopping for ingredients for tonight.
After the farmers market you take a detour on the way home, stopping at your favorite bookshop. It's been months since you've been here. Relying on the library at the House of Wind. As much as you love the endless selection you miss getting your own books.
Looking down at the cobblestone street you notice soemthing off about your shadow. Like something was tariling you. Stopping you quickly look around the street, paranoid that it could be something more.
Something blue catches the sun at the entrance to an alleyway to your left. It disappears into the unsual darkness for this time of day. As you keep staring the blue gem reappears, followed by three more and then a face only you would be able to see in the darkness. Azriel gives you a nod as a small, calming smile crosses your lips.
You continue walking, the bookstore only a few paces away. You couldn't believe your mates were having you followed. You thought you were at a point where you didn't need to be looked after. You let out a mental groan hoping it was loud enough for Rhys to hear.
The bell above the door to the shop rings and you shake it off. Marcy greets you cheerily, "Y/n! It's been so long, how are you." The female rushes over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I'm good honey, how are you?"
The two of you fall into easy conversation as she shows all the new books she got in. You periodically glance out the window to see if Azriel was still watching you. You shake your head, letting out a small chuckle. "What's up?" Marcy gives you curious look.
"Nothing," you wave her off, "just remembering something Rhys and Feyre said earlier." New customers come in Marcy leaves you to wander.
It's hard to focus on the titles in front of you with the thought of Azriel outside, waiting for you to make your next move. It's not so bad, you think. At least Azriel isn't standing right next to you. If this is what it takes for them to have peace of mind then you'll let it slide.
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