#onion topper

[allroundvp]

The Allround onion topper is a machine designed to top the tail of onions. This is done by rotating knifes under vibrating sieves. The vibrating sieves causes the tail of the onions to fall through the sieves. It is then cut off by the knife. The sieves of the machines are very easy to change because of the ‘quick-lock’ system. 

[skeletonpendeja]

Shit I been cooking lately

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 9 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x reader series, 7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

All that met you when you woke was anxiety and a sharp, thumping headache. It was such a depressing paradox to the peaceful way you’d woken up in this same bed on your first morning here, a thousand fucking lifetimes ago. Your whole body ached as you sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on one. 

The bed felt empty. Strange, since you hadn’t ever shared it with anyone. 

Your eyes, puffy around the edges from tears and exhaustion, scanned the dimly lit room. You were startled when you saw it - the little box of candy sitting on the dresser, unopened and completely forgotten. Even more startling was the sudden pang of craving you had for it. You pulled the covers from your legs, immediately missing their warmth, and padded quickly across the room to fetch the candy.

After adjusting the heavy curtains to block out as much of the midday sunlight as possible, you crawled back under the blankets, tearing the package open. Little crystals of sugar went flying, their unnatural dyes and chemicals surely staining the white sheets. But that was some faceless Airbnb owner’s problem.

You ate the candy fast and messy, completely indulging your childish desires and ignoring any regard for moderation or tooth enamel. Fingers sticky and jaw aching, you chewed and licked until there wasn’t a morsel of artificial sweetness left in the box. 

The candy didn’t help your headache, yet somehow it still made you feel better. A small gift on a day of mostly unpleasant surprises. Ironic, since the person you had to thank for the treat was the one who caused the tears.

You’d have to face him eventually, there was still a question to be answered. That problem was entirely your own, and one you weren’t anywhere near ready to face yet, so you sunk back down in the sheets and let the sugar crash knock you back out.

The second time you woke up, the sun was setting outside your window, your mouth dry and sour from the sugar and oversleeping. You sat up and chugged some water from the bottle you kept on the nightstand, think about how you should probably go downstairs, see what everyone’s up to, check in with Carter. Yes, that’s what you should do, so why was your body not rising from the bed?

You checked your phone: 7:12 pm. The day was basically over. In the span of it, you’d fallen in and out of love, had your heart broken, and slept for nearly twelve hours. And, as the pang in your stomach was so aptly reminding you, you hadn’t eaten anything since Rafe made you eggs so many hours ago.

Your phone screen also showed you had about ten texts from Carter, checking on you and asking if you were okay. You opened them and sent a half-hearted “I’m good. Just catching up on sleep from the crazy semester.” 

Another growl of your stomach and you opened a different app, double checking the house’s address before confirming your order of one large pizza - pepperoni and onions, extra cheese. The delivery estimate was forty-five minutes. Perfect.

You had gotten through one episode of your favorite show when the doorbell rang downstairs, just as you’d expected. A few seconds later and a knock on the door finally pulled you from the bed, your legs like jello from being dormant for so long. You threw on Topper’s U of F hoodie and padded towards the knocking.

Carter stood outside your door, your hot, steaming pizza in hand.

“Delivery,” she smiled tightly when you opened the door.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the pie and opening it to smell the treat that was awaiting you.

“Glad to see you’re not dead up here,” she joked.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”

She didn’t buy it, you could read the concern all over her face, but there was nothing you wanted less right now than a lecture from her about everything that had happened with Rafe.

“We’re doing a whole crab boil down there, why don’t you just come down and-”

Actually, no. The last thing you wanted in the world right now was to sit across from Rafe, cracking crab shells and pretending nothing that happened had happened. You couldn’t bear to see him, not yet.

“I’m just gonna stay up here tonight, okay?” You smiled despite the questioning look she was throwing you, silently pleading with her to just drop it and let you be.

“I knew this was gonna happen,” she frowned, hands landing on her hips in an indignant pose. She clearly wasn’t going to just drop it.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before saying “you knew what was gonna happen?”

“I knew he was gonna hurt you, and now you’re spiraling out again. God, I’m gonna kill him-”

“I’m not spiraling,” you interrupted her. “I just want some alone time. I’m having a good time actually, I’m just watching some -”

“You’re holed up in your room, just like in high school, rotting away while he’s just down there hanging out and having a good time like he did nothing wrong. So fucking typical of him. Just come downstairs, don’t let him do this to you,” the look of pity in her eyes was enough to make you sick. 

Taking a deep breath, you set the pizza down on the top of the dresser, turning back to Carter with a stoic expression.

“Car, listen to me,” you said. “He’s not ‘doing’ anything to me. This is not just like high school, because I’m not who I was in high school. I know you’re used to taking care of me, but believe it or not, in the four years we’ve lived apart, I’ve actually gotten pretty good at taking care of myself. This is not a cry for help, it’s not me isolating and spiraling. This is me taking care of myself, and it might not look like how you take care of yourself, but we’re not the same. Please just go downstairs and let me do what I need to do. I’m not a hurt little kid who needs saving, okay?”

Her brows knit tight, she scanned you from head to toe, like she could pick out any deception in your words by sight.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m glad you know what you need. But…just, don’t hide away for too long, okay?”

“I’m just gonna do what I need to do tonight, and tomorrow we can get back to our fun trip, okay?” You promised.

She thought about it for a long moment, you knew she was having trouble not asking you what had happened when you were gone this morning. The two of you hadn’t even discussed Cassie’s arrival yet, and the millions of texts from her when your phone finally turned back on told you she had plenty to say, but right now you just needed for her to say nothing. Which she must’ve understood, because she finally nodded and slipped back downstairs.

The rest of the evening was spent watching your comfort show, eating your pizza and blocking out the muffled voices of the group wafting in from the patio through your window. Cozy in the blanket of solitude you’d wrapped around yourself was enough to eventually lull you into a decently restful sleep. Curtains on today, tomorrow would be better.

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The empty mattress was cold against your reaching hand. You woke up reaching for something, you weren’t sure what, the foggy dream you’d just had slipped away with the darkness as a stripe of sunlight leaked through the blinds and right over your closed eyelids.

With a groan, you sat up. You had done the whole self-care thing, a night in, letting the emotions settle and tears dry, and as you’d promised Carter, you should probably get back to the trip.

Blinking in the bright bathroom light, you turned the faucet on and ran some cold water over your face. The chilly water waking you up, you patted dry and blinked your eyes open into the mirror.

It was immediate, the way your gaze dropped to your own neck in the reflection. Right there splattered above your collarbone- three purple splotches in the shape of Rafe’s mouth. A constellation of reminders that you’d been so close to truly being his.

You gasped, fingertips flying up to skim over the tender spots. Flashes of your time with him in the car came back to you, your legs pinned to either side of his waist and his lips pinned to your throat. A swirl of desire and regret churned in your stomach at the memory. 

By your best estimate, it had been about forty-three minutes total. Forty-three sets of sixty seconds that you’d been happy, known he was yours, kissed him and been with him and felt good about all of it. Forty-three minutes between him confessing his feelings for you and him dropping your hand in front of Cassie.

A wave of sadness crashed into you with no warning, one thought echoing in your mind, so loud and sad it robbed the air from your lungs; forty-three minutes would be all you’d ever get.

Hot tears stung your cheeks as they fell quick and heavy. You didn’t bother finishing your skincare routine, or trying to self-soothe with some kind of platitude. You'd been perfectly, blissfully happy for forty-three minutes and you’d never be that happy again. You shuffled back down the hall and into bed, stopping first to pull Topper’s hoodie back in, as if keeping the hickies out of sight might make them heal faster.

Fuck greeting the day, fuck trying to end the trip on a positive note. Grief climbed over you and pinned your limp body to the mattress, clobbering you until the tears turned to dry, ragged breaths. You pulled out your laptop and restarted your comfort show. Maybe you’d just stay here, in the darkness, until the memory of him and the marks he’d left with his lips faded in time.

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The mattress sunk with the weight of someone climbing into bed next to you. For the briefest of moments a hope that you knew was absurd flashed across your mind - maybe it was him.

“Good morning,” Carter’s voice whispered, squashing the silly thought.

You didn’t open your eyes to greet her, just readjusted in the bed to face away from her, pulling the covers higher over your chin. 

“Time to rise and shine,” she poked your side, an annoying, cutesy sing-song effect added to her voice.

“No thank you,” you grumbled into your pillow.

“Okay so get this,” she continued chipperly, ignoring your denial. “You know how Jack’s family owns like a bunch of resorts and country clubs and shit? Well they own this bougie ass golf resort in Miami and he got us in for the day so we can go golfing and to the spa with all the millionaires.”

“You hate golfing,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to actually golf,” she waved off your logic. “It’s just about wearing cute outfits and looking hot on a golf cart.”

You rustled in the sheets, turning on your side to face her.

“As inviting as that sounds, I’m gonna pass,” you said, settling in to go back to sleep.

“No, no,” she reached out to pull the covers off of you, making you groan in protest. “You said you were only gonna be sad for a night, and that today we’d have fun. Well it’s today, time to stop being sad! And you like golfing, so let’s go.”

“I’m not sad,” you lied. “I’m just tired and I don’t want to go.”

“Come on, we’ve barely spent any time together and I’m leaving soon.” Ah, so she was finally pulling the guilt trip card, you wondered when she’d make that play. “Also we have a lot to talk about, we haven’t even discussed the wicked witch of the west blowing into town.”

Despite your current annoyance with her, you laughed at this, no need to clarify who she was referring to.

“It’s because I’m trying not to think about her, actually,” you said, pulling the comforter back over your shoulders. “Let me get back to my dreams where she’s far, far away in munchkin land.”

Carter tsked, pulling the covers down yet again. You shot daggers at her with your glare, the game already getting old.

She sighed, “I know Rafe dropping your hand in front of Cassie really put a damper on things, but I just really think it’s time to move -”

Your eyes narrowed, sitting up against your pillows in surprise.

“How do you know Rafe dropped my hand in front of Cassie?”

Carter’s eyes widened when she realized the slip up she’d made, suddenly lost for words, which was a rare issue for her.

“I just…we were gonna come down and then….” she stumbled over her explanation, hoping you’d allow her sentence to fizzle out, but your questioning glare didn’t give her any reprieve. 

“And then?”

“We kind of…heard you. You and Rafe when you came in from wherever you were,” she finally admitted.

Your jaw ticked, nodding without meeting her gaze, your passive aggression palpable.

“Who’s ‘we’?” You asked, avoiding her eyes and pulling back out your laptop to load up your comfort show.

“Me and Topper,” she pulled at a loose thread on your comforter. “And some of the others, but only for part of it. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have listened, but I was worried about you.”

“How much did you hear?” You said flatly, collecting the remaining information like a medical intake form, assessing the potential damage of the mortifying story she was telling.

“Me and Topper heard, like, all of it,” she confessed. “Everyone else heard just some pieces.”

You and Carter didn’t fight, you never yelled at her, but the frustration and betrayal bubbling in your chest was threatening to end that streak. You needed a distraction or you’d lose it entirely. Hoping she’d take the hint, you pressed play on the show, shutting back down. She lingered though, pushing the conversation to the exact place you’d hoped it wouldn’t go.

“I mean what he did sucked and you should be pissed, but, you were only holding hands. At least you didn’t like hook up with him or anything. Things can just go back to the way they were before the trip. You didn’t hook up with him, right?”

“Right,” you half-lied.

Your anxiety over potentially having just decieved your sister manifested itself into the cartoonish image of a courtroom in your mind, your pencil-skirted lawyer standing between you and the judge: “your honor, the term “hook-up” could mean any number of things. If my client’s sister had wanted the whole story, she should have been more specific.” 

But you knew Carter, any version of the story that didn’t include every juicy detail may as well have been a knife in her back, she’d be pissed if she found out. Subconsciously, you adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, pulling it higher to ensure it fully covered your neck.

She had eavesdropped, and you had lied. It would all come out in the wash. At least, that’s what you decided to tell yourself.

It didn’t matter anyway, you realized with a fresh dose of unbearable sadness, because you and Rafe would never be together like you were this morning again.

You twisted quickly in the bed, angling away from her so she didn’t see the tears welling on your lash line and turned up the volume on your show.

She stayed in the bed for a while, trying a few more times to start conversation and coax you to join them on the golf trip, but you’d perfected the art of the cold shoulder, blocking out her every attempt to get you to get out of the bed.

After maybe thirty minutes, she sighed and crawled out from under the covers, pulling out her phone as soon as she was outside your door and texting Topper: it’s worse than we thought.

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“Did you try telling her -”

“I’m telling you, I tried everything. She just shut me down. She’s really mad I think,” Carter’s face was pinched tight with worry as she whispered to Topper outside your door.

“Okay, well maybe, I dunno, you’re just not the person she wants to talk to right now…” he suggested, eager to help but hesitant to upset her any further.

“What, you think you’d fare better in there?” She snapped.

“I mean, I could try,” he shrugged.

She considered this. Maybe it would be beneficial to have a neutral party. Or maybe you’d scream at him, but either way he’d at least get more of a reaction out of you than she did, right?

“Fine, be my guest,” she motioned towards your door.

Topper knocked lightly, eliciting a delayed “um, yeah?” from your voice behind the door. He slowly opened it and slipped inside.

Only a few minutes later, he emerged from the room, his face ashen, wide eyes skittishly avoiding Carter.

“Well?” She pried.

“I don’t think I was the person she wanted to talk to either,” he said vaguely.

“Did she say anything?” She pressed.

“Oh, she said a lot of things…” he scratched the back of his neck, still not looking at her.

“Maybe she’s mad at you too, for eavesdropping,” Carter puzzled. “Maybe we need someone who didn’t hear much of their fight.”

Knocking on doors down the hallway, Carter coaxed the rest of the group, minus Cassie, Sabrina, and Rafe, who were nowhere to be found, out of their rooms and into Mission: Impossible - Get You to Leave Your Bed.

They each agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tiptoe their way into your room and try and talk you into coming out and joining the golf trip. One by one they emerged defeated. Not only had they not convinced you of anything, it seemed from Carter’s perspective that you had your own mission - to drag them all down into an existential crisis with you.

No new information to provide Carter about you, they each came out with some new insecurity that you’d talked them into.

Maddie was first, coming out with sad, round eyes and asking Carter, “do you think I’m smart enough for med school? What if I just wasted the last four years being pre-med?!”

Then Jack, who came out with his hand on his face, “do you think I should reverse my nose job? What if my face never looks normal again?”

Even Tom attempted to warm you up, telling Topper, “I think she’s right, I am only in finance to get my dad’s approval. Why doesn’t he love me for me, man?”

With each friend who returned from a conversation with you full of anguish, Carter and Topper exchanged worried looks. What exactly was going on in that bedroom? You were just one girl, one who typically wouldn’t hurt a fly, and yet this morning you’d apparently chosen violence, no one safe from your emotional carnage. 

Also with each friend who emerged defeated, Topper suggested calling in Rafe for reinforcement, only for Carter to shoot the idea down. But he’d never seen Tom spiral like this, and it was his final straw. He disappeared into his room with some excuse about needing to check on the afternoon’s tee-time.

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Rafe hadn’t run in years. At least, not like this. 

Sure, he went for a jog now and then or opted for the treadmill between leg and back day every so often, but he hadn’t done this kind of no-holds-barred, all-out-sprint since he was an athlete, and the burning in his lungs was reminding him why. 

Plus, running provided all this space for his mind to wander. When he was lifting or doing some high intensity shit, he didn’t have time to think. An open road and nothing but his own two legs? The opportunities for his brain to spiral were endless.

Still, today he kept running, the sand of the long beach kicking up with each heavy step. He’d peeled his shirt off over a mile ago, sweat pooling everywhere possible as breath became more and more illusive. He could feel the early morning sun burning the tops of his shoulders, he knew he’d pay for not wearing sunscreen later.

Every time he was tempted to stop, some invisible force nipped at his heels, propelling him forward. It felt peculiarly like nightmares he’d had as a kid, though this time it wasn’t a monster chasing him, but something much more elusive and indefinable. And he knew if he stopped, it would all catch up to him; everything he’d been trying to avoid for years. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the ambush.

Music blared through his headphones, a playlist he’d listened to so many times that he barely heard it anymore. Suddenly, the music cut, his phone buzzing against his thigh in his gym shorts pocket. 

Thankful for the excuse to slow down, he pulled out his phone to check the text, it was from Topper: dude something’s up with her, u gotta come help us. we’re trying to get her out of bed, she won’t talk to anyone. but she might talk to u

Rafe’s breathlessness suddenly had nothing to do with overworking it on the cardio. He didn’t expect you to be a ball of sunshine the day after he’d done something so stupid to you, but he didn’t understand what Topper meant by “somethings up.” The fact that he was positive he was actually the last person you’d want to talk to right now only added to his shortness of breath.

It was all wrong, none of this happened the way it was supposed to. And now he’d possibly broken you for good. Maybe it was time to pack his bags.

To add insult to injury, standing along the shoreline, only about ten feet in the distance, was the other girl who’s heart he’d broken, glowing in the sunrise and looking like a goddamn marble statue. Jesus Rafe, he thought, you really know how to lose ‘em.

He tried to duck out of sight, but she had already clocked him, standing at the edge of the water in her stylish swimsuit and wrap looking like a fucking greek goddess. She was the ideal female specimen, and yet, as he noticed with curiosity, there was nothing in him that was attracted to her. If anything, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. But she smiled softly and raised her hand in a polite wave, and despite what you may believe now, he wasn’t a total asshole.

Giving her a small wave back, he approached the shoreline, matching her stance looking out at the water. The moment was silent and awkward for just a second, Cassie flicking her hair off her shoulder and digging her toe into the sand as Rafe searched helplessly for words.

“You look good, Cass,” is what he finally landed on.

She looked at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He expected her to tell him he looked good too, a smile already forming on his lips as a response to her incoming compliment.

“You’re an idiot, Rafe.”

“I- wh- what the fuck?” He was so thrown he couldn’t even find words to express it.

“You were with her yesterday morning when you saw me, right? Like with her with her?” She surmised, a small upturn of her lips at his confused look.

“I’m sorry you saw that, I tried not to make it weird for you. I didn’t know you were gonna see us,” he stammered, the misplaced pity in his voice only making her laugh at him more.

“Rafe, you dumped me four years ago,” she chuckled. “Believe me when I tell you I’m over it. Also, considering the fact that you dumped me for her, I really wasn’t that surprised to see you together.”

“I didn’t break up with you for her,” he corrected, reiterating a point he’d made a thousand times, and had yet to successfully convince her of.

“Oh c’mon Rafe,” she turned towards him, hands on her hips in exasperation. “Let’s not do the whole ‘I just needed to focus on college’ thing again. We’re both adults now, can we just be honest? You dumped me because you were in love with her. And based on the look on your face yesterday before you noticed me, I’d say you still are.”

A deep crease wrinkled Rafe’s forehead as he avoided her gaze, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He actually thought he did a pretty good job keeping it from her, but apparently she’d clocked it easily, even all those years ago.

“So you knew? Like the whole time?” He mumbled.

Cassie scoffed, “I was a bitch in high school, but I wasn’t stupid.”

“You weren’t a bitch,” he tried to console her, though she didn’t need it, her easy smile making it clear she’d made her peace with this fact.

“You should ask her if she thinks I was a bitch,” she gestured up toward your bedroom window. “I think she’d agree with me, seeing as she was pretty much my main target.”

“Yeah, you could’ve been nicer to her, I guess,” he conceded.

“You could’ve too,” she pointed out.

A spark of shame flared in his gut. You had tried to tell him back then, tried to explain the ways Cassie mistreated you behind closed doors when nobody was looking, but he always brushed it off. Eager to have an excuse to avoid confronting Cassie about it, and if he was being honest, summing it up to a girl being oversensitive. God, maybe he was the bitch.

“I’m sorry if it made you feel weird yesterday, seeing us together. I was trying to get out of the moment without hurting anyone and I think I may have hurt you both,” he explained.

Cassie just shook her head with a small smile, he had grown physically since the last time she saw him, but he still had the social awareness of a seven year old.

Silently, she raised her left hand, displaying the massive emerald cut diamond on her ring finger, “I mean it when I say I’m fine, Rafe.”

His eyes widened, blinded by the diamond’s sheen in the sunlight. It must’ve been five, maybe six carats.

“Holy shit,” he grinned. “You’re, uh…”

“Getting married,” she nodded. “When I said I was over you…”

“No, yeah, message received,” he chuckled, feeling foolish.

It dawned on him slowly, the realization that seeing him with you had no impact on Cassie at all, except maybe to confirm suspicions she already had. There had been no good reason to drop your hand after all, he wasn’t sparing anyone’s feelings, he was only hurting yours. And now because of it, he may have lost you for good.

“Shit,” he groaned, his shoulders falling.

Cassie gave him a sympathetic look, reading the regret all over his face.

“Was she mad?” She clued.

“Um, yeah, more than I’ve ever seen her,” he said.

“Good. It’s about damn time,” she huffed.

Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, stunned by her words and apparent lack of sympathy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed.

“She should’ve given you shit a long time ago, Rafe. She deserves to give us both a hard time actually. But now that you guys are together -”

“We’re not together,” he blurted out, surprising Cassie and himself with the statement. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rafe. You still haven’t told her how you feel? God, I swear, Cameron, you’re dumber than you look.”

“No, no, I did. I told her, I asked her to be with me. But she - then I…I think it’s too late,” he struggled with his words like he was new to the language. 

Cassie nodded, making a nearly inaudible “hmm” noise that he recognized well. It was the same noise she’d made when he talked about you back then, letting him know she clearly had more to say but was holding back.

“Say it,” he smirked at her familiar mannerism.

“Oh, nothing…”

“You’ve got no poker face, Bryant. Never have,” he jibbed.

“I just think…I don’t know,” she stalled. “It’s really not my place, and I’m definitely not going to pretend I really know her, but I don’t think you wait for someone for fifteen years just to throw in the towel over ten seconds of stupidity. Which it was, really stupid” she gave him a disapproving look, which he accepted, knowing she was right, “but still…you have your flaws, Rafe, god knows I know that. But I still think you’re the kind of guy a girl would wait for. And I think she’s the kind of girl you don’t give up on.”

Rafe took in a deep breath, his eyes grazing back over the horizon, considering her words. He couldn’t help but blush a little at the way she said he’s someone worth waiting for. It was the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long time. And her point about you being the kind of girl he shouldn’t give up on? That was the truest thing anyone had said in a long time.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned his head towards her slightly.

“What?” She rolled her eyes at his obvious amusement.

“Are you…dare I say…rooting for me and her?” He teased.

Reluctantly, she smiled back, her lips twisted into a knowing grin as she watched some jet skiers a few yards off shore. 

“Falling in love made me soft, okay?” She defended herself.

“I’m happy for you,” he told her. “I really am.”

“I’m happy for you too, Rafe,” she said earnestly. “Or I will be, when you get your head out of your ass and go up there and make things right with her.”

Nerves twisted in his stomach. He knew you didn’t want to see him, knew you’d push him away, knew he deserved it. But if he left here without trying, without fighting for you, he’d never forgive himself. 

He passed a sidelong glance at Cassie’s ring. It was strange, you all really were at the age where things like marriage and families, things like forever, were suddenly real and within reach. It should make him nervous, should make him spiral into an existential crisis and hide from commitment. But when he thought of you, it didn’t feel strange, because with you forever had always been real, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then the universe was going to have to pry it from his fucking hands.

Cassie gave him an urging look, nodding back towards the house as if to say, “it’s now or never, dude.”

He nodded, a deep breath and a thankful smile to his ex, and ran towards you.

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Yet again, your bedroom door opened with someone emerging who wasn’t you. Running out of options, Carter had sent Kelce in. Maybe he could annoy you into getting out of bed, it was worth a shot. She didn’t really expect it to work, but she definitely didn’t expect him to come back out sniffling.

“Kelce, are you crying?” She asked him, disbelief raising her voice an octave.

“When did your sister get so mean?” He asked, voice cracking.

The group tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Topper threw his arm around Kelce’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey guys we need to normalize men crying,” he scolded the group. “Even if they sound like little girls when they do it.”

Laughter echoed through the hall again, Kelce storming away indignantly, nearly bowled over by Rafe, who appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs. 

He was still shirtless, half-dried sweat making his sculpted torso glisten under the hallway’s lights. A body that made even the straight men on the second floor swoon a little.

The laughing stopped immediately at his arrival, Rafe’s sweaty, shirtless form breaking through the huddle.

“She still in there?” He asked Topper, his face serious as hell.

“Yeah man,” Topper answered.

“You’re probably the last person she wants to talk to right now, Rafe,” Carter snipped.

“Kinda looks like you are, actually,” Rafe shot back at her, gesturing to her position on the other side of the hall, making her jaw flex with the force of the scowl she aimed at him. “Give me five minutes.”

Rafe slipped through the crack in your door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Sorry, but I thought it was time to bring in the big guns,” Topper gave Carter an apologetic smile.

“‘Big guns’ is right,” Maddie giggled, fanning herself dramatically at the memory of Rafe’s figure. “I mean, goddamn.”

Carter slumped against the wall, arms crossed, hating the whole thing, hating him.

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“Oh my god,” your heart raced at the sight of Rafe, half naked and panting, bursting into your room. You pulled the blankets higher over you, feeling suddenly exposed even though you were the fully clothed one between the two of you.

“Good morning,” He chipped, throwing your curtains open and flooding the room, making you cry out his name in protest, hiding further in your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You groaned.

“Can we talk now, please?” He asked, standing in the window, his sculpted body illuminated by the Florida sun, framed by the glinting rise and fall of the ocean in the distance. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. It made you angry, knowing there was too much history to be able to justify getting out of bed and climbing into his arms, which if you were being honest was all you really wanted to do at that moment. “Have you thought about my question from yesterday?”

Suddenly, you weren’t pissed at him for dropping your hand, or for the prom thing, or any of the other similar stories that accompanied it, enough heartbreak to write a book of memoirs. You were mad at him because he asked you the question: “are you my girl?” in the first place and now, looking up at him, you knew how you needed to answer.

“No.”

“Look, I know I did something shitty, but it’s been like twenty-four hours now and if we could just talk -”

“No, Rafe. I’m saying, I have thought about the question, and the answer is no. I don’t want to be with you. I’m done.”

He just stood there, he just fucking stood there, looking down at you for a full minute before reacting. 

When he finally did, his bottom lip stuck out as he nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling casually across your room. Moving slowly, he stopped to survey the jewelry, makeup and other knick-knacks on your vanity, running his fingers over them like a restless kid in a store. You sat in bed with a furrowed brow and watched him with confusion, his muscular shoulders relaxed as they finally shrugged in response.

“No,” he shook his head, turning back to face you.

“I don’t remember asking you a question,” you were sitting up against the headboard now, arms crossed as you glared at him from under the hoodie.

“Have some coffee, think it over, we’ll talk about it,” he rambled, so casually it made your blood boil.

“I have thought about it! I’ve been in here for a whole day thinking about it,” you gestured around the room to emphasize your point.

He sighed, leaning back against your dresser on his arms, his triceps flexing as he looked down at you in the bed, “nah you’ve been in here hiding. What are you even doing?”

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted to open up to any of the people who had come into the room before him, but you wanted his sympathy least of all. Good thing, you suppose, because he didn’t give it to you.

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked you what you were doing,” he said plainly.

Once again, Rafe was surprising you. You assumed when you saw him again, he’d be groveling, begging for you back, and you’d have to push him away. But here he was, not a hint of longing in his voice, just a blank face and a carved body you couldn’t believe was actually real. He wasn’t begging for you back, if anything he was being a little rude. God, what was wrong with you that it made you want him a little more?

“I’m watching TV,” you stammered dumbly, using your last sliver of willpower to direct your eyes to the laptop screen and away from him. “And getting over you.”

“Turn it off,” he responded. “And get out of bed.”

“I don’t know if you heard me just now, but I rejected you,” you were starting to get angry now. What was really pissing you off was the fact that out of everyone who’d come in here today, Rafe was the only one matching your energy. And it was successfully throwing you off balance. “I don’t know why you’re even still in here.”

“Yeah and I don’t know if you heard me, but I said no. If you wanna pissed at me, fine. But I’m not giving up on you and you’re not gonna spend the rest of this trip in here rotting because you’d hate yourself for wasting your last few days with Carter by freezing her out. So get up.”

“Stop acting like you know the first fucking thing about me, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straight on the mattress, the closest you’d been to getting up all morning.

“Oh don’t I? Really,” he looked around the room, gesturing towards the half empty pizza box from the night before, “pepperoni and onions? Extra cheese?”

“Okay, so you’ve seen me order pizza before, that doesn’t mean -”

“And I betcha I know what show you’re watching, the one you played like a million times junior year. Except you’re skipping the season finales because you don’t like endings. Which is how I know you’ll be so mad at yourself if you let Carter leave for the UK without making some good memories here with her.”

Rafe walked to the edge of the bed, resting forward on his hands and leaning toward you, the mattress sinking under his strength, causing you to slide towards the spot he was pushing it down. “You done with me? Fine. But I’m not done with you, so I’m not leaving this room until you get out of the fucking bed.”

“Get out,” you said through gritted teeth, scrambling to fight the forces of gravity and scoot away from him.

He only pushed the mattress down harder, making you tumble towards him, “no.”

You used your arms and feet to push yourself away from him as much as you could, needing desperately not to touch him, not to remind your body what his felt like, determined that you’d never let yourself feel him again.

His eyes were steely, expression fixed. He wasn’t leaving, and you’d never be able to overpower him physically, all you had left was a verbal defense.

Your chin wobbled with the angry tears you were failing to fight back, and for the second time today, you lied to protect yourself, “I hate you.”

He nodded that same, pursed lip nod, standing straight again, just looking down at you with an immovable defiance. 

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated.

Heart pounding with regret and adrenaline, you scooted back to the edge of the mattress. A disbelief that you’d just said what you said and the nauseating desire to crawl into his arms and beg for forgiveness, even though you knew you should stand your ground, you rose shakily from the bed. Needing to get away from him, and whatever version of yourself you’d just turned into. Desperate to escape with as few people seeing you cry as possible, you pushed past the crowd outside your door without a word and beelined toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

A few moments later, Rafe emerged from the room as well, holding the pizza box and other trash collected from your hiding place. 

“Woah you did it,” Topper congratulated him. “How’d you get her up?”

Rafe ignored him, his eyes on Carter, who watched him with a suspicious glare. He didn’t speak, disappearing back down the hall. Once he’d tossed your trash, he stood at the sink trying to breathe and make peace with what just happened, what you’d said to him.

As the ocean waves crashed violently outside the wide kitchen windows, a similar uneasy tide rose in his chest, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in sight.

Before he knew it, he was running again. He made it a half a mile down the beach before the inevitable caught up with him, squeezing his chest with a sharp pain. He doubled over, gripping his heart and wincing as the muscle constricted, his heartbeat erratic and vision blurry from lack of oxygen. His knees slammed into the hot sand as his body crashed out one limb at a time.

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“Rafe? Rafe, are you okay?! Rafe!!” 

(to be continued)

a/n: okay ik this part is a lot of establishing things for the next part but part two will be nice and juicy and even have some giggles and good times

please note the taglist for this series is closed. for updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

[sippor]

Recipe for Butternut Bisque with French Onion Toast Topper This creamy, fall-ready butternut bisque is served with homemade French onion toast toppers, loaded with broiled Gruyere cheese and caramelized onions.

[rafecameronssl4t]

For me? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Glass onion inspired when Whisky goes to Miles because her boyfriend Duke asks her to but they already have something going on between them.

Warnings: r uses her body to get Topper what he wants, infidelity, suggestive content

Word count: 1,936

A/n: glass onion is definitely in my top 5 movies I love 😭

MASTERLIST

Your fingers curl around Rafe’s wrist, tugging him toward the house, your movements quick and purposeful. The murmur of voices in the background fades as you enter, but one presence in particular stands out—Topper, leaning casually against the entryway, his expression hard, his eyes following you with a calculating intensity.

His words from earlier echo in your mind, their weight hanging heavy between you two. “You know what I’m asking. Just... talk to him again. Do what you have to do.” You’d replayed Topper’s plea in your head countless times, the way he’d lowered his voice, almost pleading, as he suggested you get closer to Rafe—his boss—convincing him to finally give Topper the promotion he’s been after for months.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, the thought of using your body to manipulate Rafe for Topper’s benefit, but you were already caught in the web, and here you were, carrying out the plan. Topper says nothing as you pass, but the look in his eyes—a mixture of calculation and expectation—burns into your back. You offer him a curt nod, more out of habit than a willingness to comply, before redirecting your focus to Rafe, who’s watching you with an almost predatory interest, his smirk tugging at his lips.

Rafe follows you, his presence closing in behind you like a shadow, and his eyes flicker with amusement as you guide him into the room. His voice is thick with arrogance as he speaks, the challenge clear in his tone. “Right now? You sure?” He steps closer, his hands finding your hips with a teasing pressure. His eyes move unapologetically up and down your body, pausing at the curves of your waist before he lets out a low chuckle.

“What’s the rush? Your little boyfriend’s still out there, isn’t he?” You roll your eyes, playing the part as you’ve done before. This wasn’t the first time Topper had asked you to sleep with Rafe, after all. It was a game you were tired of playing, but the rewards were clear. Rafe never failed to satisfy, and Topper always got what he wanted in the end. “Uh-huh, right now,” you reply, your tone sharp but confident, cutting through his mockery.

Rafe’s smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with a knowing glint. He wasn’t stupid—he’d caught on quickly. The first time you’d done this, he’d been skeptical, unsure of your motives. But it hadn’t taken long before he was hooked, and honestly, neither of you had any intention of stopping. “Well,” he says, a low whistle escaping his lips as his hands move to your waist, his fingers tightening just enough to pull you closer, “whatever you want, pretty girl."

His voice drips with amusement, as if he’s indulging you—and maybe himself—at the same time. Without waiting for a response, Rafe’s hand slips from your waist to press firmly against the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, the air thick with tension.

You push him onto the mattress, the movement swift and confident, and without hesitation, you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, your top slipping off in one smooth motion. His hands find your waist again, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against your bare skin as his eyes lock onto yours. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, sending a rush of heat through you.

You smile down at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Just felt like being close to you, Mr. Cameron,” you murmur, resting your hands against his chest. There’s no denying it—after all the nights spent together, after the passion and intensity that marked each encounter, it was hard not to catch feelings. You’d tried to push them down, tried to keep it business as usual, but Rafe had a way of making it impossible to remain detached.

Rafe chuckles, but his eyes narrow with suspicion, as if he can see right through the act. “Close to me, huh?” he muses, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is this about Topper?” His grin widens, clearly amused by his own thoughts, but before you can reply, he shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “You know, I’ve already given him the second-best office in the building. What more does he want?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, a playful smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “He just wants that promotion real bad, baby,” you say, your voice light and teasing as you lean down just enough to close the space between you. “He’s been working his ass off, you know.”

Rafe’s laugh rumbles beneath you, a sound that vibrates against your chest, and his hands slide down to grip your waist with an almost possessive force. “Working his ass off, huh?” he repeats mockingly, his smirk unfaltering. “And sending you in here to convince me, huh? That’s dedication.” You grin, meeting his eyes with a mixture of playfulness and something darker.

“But hey, I’m not complaining,” Rafe adds, his hands gripping your ass firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as his eyes never leave yours. You bite your lip lightly, feeling the heat building between you both, and Rafe hums beneath you, tilting his head slightly as his fingers dig into your sides. He pulls you closer, his body pressing firmly against yours. “If this is his idea of a plan,” he says, voice thick with amusement, “I gotta say, it’s not the worst one.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, and his eyes gleam with something darker now—something that tells you he’s enjoying the control, the power he has over you. “But if you keep this up babe,” he warns, “I might just forget all about Topper’s promotion.” You laugh softly, though your pulse quickens at the intensity in his eyes.

“Guess we’ll see how good my persuasion skills are, then,” you reply, your voice hushed with anticipation, feeling the electric charge between you as you lean in for another kiss, your body pressing fully against his.

~

"So, will you do it? Give him the promotion?" The question slips from your lips as you prop yourself up on your forearms, your gaze locked on Rafe as he slides into his boxers, a casual motion that betrays nothing of the tension in the room. His smirk is as infuriating as it is irresistible, his eyes glinting with a knowing amusement that makes your chest tighten. He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, as he moves toward you, the air between you two heavy with something unspoken.

“I’ll think about it,” Rafe replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm but layered with something you can’t quite place. He lingers in front of you, his face so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. For a moment, the air between you feels heavier, quieter, the world outside his room fading into irrelevance. His piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, searching, as if trying to unearth something buried deep within you.

“What?” you ask, chuckling softly, trying to ease the tension. Rafe’s lips twitch into a small smirk, his gaze flickering down to your mouth before he shrugs, his voice low and teasing. “Nothin’.” Before you can question him further, he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips—a fleeting touch that leaves you momentarily breathless. He pulls back just as quickly, a boyish grin spreading across his face, like he knows exactly the effect he has on you.

You narrow your eyes at him, raising a brow in mock suspicion. “What are you smiling about?” “Nothing,” he repeats, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes betrays him. You shake your head slightly, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips, before sliding out of bed and gathering your clothes.

As you start getting dressed, Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes following your every movement. He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, the satisfied smirk never leaving his face. “You good?” he asks, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he notices you limping slightly toward the door.

“Just sore,” you mutter, throwing a glance over your shoulder. His grin widens at your admission, his eyes lighting up with smug satisfaction. The way he looks at you—like he knows exactly what he’s done—sends a heat crawling up your neck. “You’re welcome,” he says casually, the arrogance in his tone unmistakable. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile as you open the door. “Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron.”

“Too late,” he fires back, reclining further into the bed with a cocky grin, his eyes trailing after you as you disappear down the hallway. The door clicks softly behind you as you step into the dimly lit hallway, letting out a small, shaky breath. The quiet feels short-lived, a fragile reprieve from the storm brewing outside of Rafe’s room. You barely take a step forward when Topper suddenly appears in front of you, his face shadowed but unmistakably tense.

“What did he say?” His voice is sharp and demanding, startling you so much that your hand flies to your chest in an attempt to steady your racing heartbeat. “Fuck, Top!” you exclaim, your voice pitched with a mix of irritation and lingering adrenaline. “Don’t scare me like that!” You swat at his chest in frustration, but he doesn’t even flinch. His face remains stone-cold, his eyes burning with impatience.

“What. Did. Rafe. Say?” he asks again, his tone slower now but no less intense, every word laced with a simmering urgency that makes your stomach twist. You blink at him, struggling to find the right words, knowing he’s not going to like what you have to say. “He, uh… said he’ll think about it,” you murmur, the hesitance in your voice betraying the slight embarrassment you feel admitting it. You move to brush past him, hoping to avoid the explosion you sense is coming.

But Topper grabs your arm, his grip firm and unrelenting, forcing you to stop. The touch isn’t painful, but it carries a weight that feels heavier than it should. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘he’ll think about it’?” His voice rises, echoing faintly down the empty hallway, his frustration spilling out in sharp, jagged tones.

You yank your arm out of his grasp, stepping back just enough to put space between you. Your eyebrows knit together as you glare up at him, the tension between you sparking like a live wire. “Exactly what I said,” you bite back, your tone sharpening to match his. “He’ll think about it. That’s all he said, so maybe you should go ask him yourself if you’re so desperate for answers.”

Topper scoffs, the sound low and dripping with contempt as his jaw tightens. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a gesture you’ve seen countless times before—one that usually comes before he says something he’ll regret. The weight of his stare makes your skin crawl, and you can’t help but feel the suffocating pressure of his disappointment. He doesn’t care how uncomfortable this all is for you, how humiliating it feels to play this game on his behalf. To him, you’re just the means to an end—a pawn in his ambition.

“You’re useless,” Topper mutters under his breath, his words laced with venom as he shakes his head. Your eyes narrow, and you take a step closer to him, refusing to let him get the last word. “You know what’s useless, Topper? You thinking you can send me in there to clean up your mess every time something doesn’t go your way. Maybe if you weren’t so desperate, Rafe would’ve already given you what you want,” you snap, the heat in your voice catching him off guard.

For a moment, Topper falters, his face flashing with something between anger and guilt. But just as quickly, his expression hardens again. “I’m doing this for us,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice lowering. “Us?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Don’t pretend this is about me. You only care about that promotion. Don’t act like I’m the one who owes you anything.”

Topper’s silence is deafening, his jaw working furiously as if he’s holding back a response. Without another word, you turn and walk away, your heart pounding as the sound of your heels clicks against the hardwood floor.

~

“I’m comin’!” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, casual and annoyed as he makes his way to the front door. He swings it open, expecting anything but you standing there. His brows raise slightly, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/n?” he says, leaning against the doorframe, that trademark smirk already tugging at his lips. “Back so soon? What does Topper want now—”

You don’t give him the chance to finish. Without hesitation, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. His words die in his throat, replaced by a soft grunt of surprise that quickly turns into amusement.

“Shut up,” you murmur against his lips, barely pulling away before moving to brush kisses along his jawline. Your voice is low and breathy as you add, “Topper didn’t send me.”“Oh?” Rafe smirks, his voice dropping into that teasing, cocky tone that always gets under your skin. His hands slide down to your hips, his fingers gripping you firmly, pulling you closer to him. “So what, you missed me already?”

You roll your eyes, though your lips curve into a small smile against his skin. “Something like that,” you reply, tilting your head just enough to look up at him. Rafe chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he steps back, tugging you inside by your waist and letting the door shut behind you. His smirk deepens as he studies you, the playful glint in his eyes growing darker. “So, if you’re not here to play messenger, what’s the occasion, huh?”

You let out a soft laugh, your hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him down to meet your gaze. “Does there always have to be a reason?” you tease, arching a brow. Rafe’s hands tighten their hold on your hips, his grin widening as he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not when it comes to you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

[yourdarkcherry]

Seducing Rafe Cameron || Ch.1

Summary: You were blessed with an easy life since you were born, but it’s all threatened when your dad’s business fails and you find yourself with no prospects and no education and so your only solution is to marry rich. Who’s a better candidate than the older brother of your ex-best friend from high school? So you do everything in your power to seduce Rafe Cameron, not knowing he’s the root to all your problems.

Warnings: toxic relationship, spoiled reader, sexist elements, dark content, blackcoded reader, pregnancy, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, death threats, eventual smut.

Next Chapter

Divider is by: @/cafekitsune

You’ve never thought of Rafe Cameron in that way, at least not since your friend break up with Sarah. 

It was your mother who incepted that thought in your head, on a sunny morning in the kitchen. She was standing cutting vegetables, and you were making yourself a characteristically late breakfast. The sigh coming out of her mouth should prompt you to ask her what’s wrong, but you already knew what’s wrong.

Your dad’s failing business. To be fair, he wouldn’t have admitted that at all, knowing that he had the biggest ego ever. But the letter from the bank, with a bold and red title made you and your mother exchange looks and open it anyways. 

Since then everything has been going downhill, and there’s nothing you could do. It’s not like a failing business could suddenly become successful overnight just because you wanted it to be, or god forbid the lie rich people tell poor people that hard work does it all. 

“You know, you’re pretty and you’re young but you have no higher education and you have no successful business to inherit,” she started, you glanced over your shoulder at her, she was still focused on cutting the vegetables. 

“I know that,” you commented with a sigh that should’ve eased the heaviness in your chest, but it only served to make you feel more weight in your chest.

“So I think you should find yourself a nice rich man to marry,” she said, and you usually would’ve scoffed at her words but you knew her words were true. 

You were God's most spoiled creation, and rightfully so. You were born as the only daughter of a rich family in an elite suburban neighborhood, the kind that naturally had vacation homes and private jets. But with the business going downhill, that easily meant all of those blessings being plucked away from your hands. 

“You aren’t suited for living in The Cut, you would be miserable and people there would easily take advantage of you,”

Not only the properties, but also the connections. Your family friends were everything but loyal, they dropped lifelong friends if it didn’t suit the successful image they portrayed, which would also mean your chances of being married off to a rich man would be nonexistent. 

“You’re naive, and have no education or prospects so getting married is the best option for you.”

Rich people surrounded themselves with rich people. 

The bank already seized a hold of your vacation home, and it would be a matter of time before you’re found out. No one wanted to be poor, so you listened to your mother’s words carefully. 

“Cynthia’s son is interning at her hospital, he’s young and seems like a respectful young man that you can manipulate with a few nice words…Cynthia’s hard on him so it would be so much easier,” she said, and you neglected your sandwich making in order to rest your back against the counter and stare at her standing in the island, still giving all her attention to chopping the vegetables. 

“You mean Topper?” you asked, and she hummed in agreement. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, “mom, he’s still not over Sarah and she’s been dating that guy from The Cut for like years now,” 

She moved to the gas stove top next to you, switched the fire on and tossed the chopped onions in the pot. “What about that nice guy you dated in high school? That blonde with dimples,” she asked, glancing at you as she stirred the onions. 

You grinned, rolled your eyes and revealed, “I have never told you this but the main reason I broke up with Dylan was because I caught him cheating on me with his cousin.” 

She chuckled, then tossed the garlic and stirred it, “well, most rich people are like that, I also dated a guy in high school who later married his cousin.”

“Interesting,” you commented.

It got quiet for a minute, then you resumed your task of making your sandwich. Only when you took a bite of it did she speak again, “I think Sarah’s brother is a good candidate,”

“Mom, please,” you say with a sigh, setting down your sandwich and then feeling like you have no appetite anymore. Not because of Rafe, you feel indifferent about him. It’s just that the mention of him makes you automatically associate him with Sarah. 

Your ex-best friend, your best friend since birth and the one who was secretly dating your highschool boyfriend behind your back. Honestly even though years passed, you think you still have similar feelings to when it first happened, you didn’t care much for the fact that your boyfriend cheated on you. 

It was the fact that Sarah betrayed you that hurt you, and the fact that she went ahead and carelessly and unapologetically ruined your friendship. 

Sure, you weren’t perfect in highschool and had your own flaws too and your friendship with Sarah was pretty codependent. You two never ever existed without each other, if one was seen then there’s a ninety nine percent chance the other would be there.

“It’s been years since you and Sarah had that fight,” your mother responded with a shrug. Of course, none of the grown-ups knew the true reason for your friend break up, all they knew was that overnight you both couldn’t stand the sight of each other. 

Sure, years passed since the fight. It happened Junior year and you like to believe you’re totally over it, which you are, but it’s just pretty goddamn strange to walk up to Rafe Cameron who you’ve never spoken to since your fight with Sarah and flirt with him. 

In general, it would be strange to flirt with him when you have never ever seen him in that way. 

“He’s also definitely inheriting his father’s empire, Sarah used to be the favorite but she’s off with that broke man and there’s no way Ward would give her anything,” She said, now stirring the simmering pot and giving you her full attention, “Rafe is working with his father, Rose talks about them all the time.”

“He’s Sarah’s brother,” you argued.

Your mother scoffed, rolled her eyes and said, “And he’s rich and he’s going to inherit his father’s very successful empire, plus he’s handsome and he seems nice, he always greets me when he sees me.”

That’s when the thought was planted in your head, and it continued to grow. 

Sure, Rafe Cameron was a very handsome young man, you remember passively thinking that when you and Sarah used to be friends. You don’t remember much of him, just that you had small chats when you used to lounge around Tannyhill.

You always saw him at parties, but never said hi because Sarah would ignore him and you felt the need to ignore him too. 

He was cordial with you, sometimes he drove you and Sarah around before she got her license. He didn’t stand out to you much, so you didn’t understand why you were sitting outside very early in the morning when you always woke up around noon. 

Your legs dangled on the edge of the porch swing, clad in your running attire that you’ve never used, a magazine on your lap as you watched the blond jog past your home. 

Even your mother was surprised when she saw you up early, and in work out clothes. “It’s such a pleasant sight seeing you in the morning, you should do it often,” she said and you sighed as you stood up from the swing. 

“But it’s a good thing you’re up early, he always jogs in the morning,” she didn’t need to say a name for you to understand who she was referring to. You knew that fact too, it’s why you even decided to set an alarm at six in the morning.

“Accompany you in your walk?” you asked, she nodded and you both started her routine. 

The scenery was pleasant, the sun still wasn’t fully up in the sky to torture you with its rays and shine. The weather was nice too, and halfway through the walk you forgot why you even started this, and only recalled when you heard the jogging steps behind you. 

You looked over your shoulder, and low and behold Rafe Cameron in all his glory was slowing his jogging, possibly at the end of his morning jog. There was a hint of confusion in his eyes when he stared at you, possibly questioning why you, a girl who slept until noon, was up at six in the morning. 

He didn’t have to stalk you to know that, in your neighborhood everyone knew everything about everybody. From your salary to how many utensils you had in your drawer. It’s just common knowledge, and the nosiness in such communities, so it was only a matter of time before everyone knew of your father’s business and would cross you out from social gatherings.

“Good morning, Mrs. (L/N) and (Y/N),” he greeted, slightly heaving but still managing to smile politely at your mother. 

“Hello, Rafe, how was your run?” your mother asked back politely. 

“Oh you know, the usual, the Miller’s dog tried to chase me,” he grinned when you and your mother both chuckled. Then he gave you his full attention, “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

You blinked, slightly taken aback by his direct address to you, when you’ve done nothing but ignore him after your fiasco with his sister. Still, you displayed your best casual smile, “I have been fine, I’m just trying to get into a productive routine,” 

“Well, it’s good seeing you up and about,” he responded. 

“How about you, how have you been?” you asked, tilting your head with slight curiosity. 

“Same old,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug, “working with my old man, hanging at the country club, teaching Wheezie how to drive,” you beam at him. “How’s she by the way? Haven’t seen her in a while,”

“Like the usual sixteen year olds, rebellious and making dumb decisions,” he answers, once again easily making you and your mother laugh. He smiles charmingly, “I was joking, she’s actually better than me and Sarah,”

You laughed, genuinely enjoying the banter. “Well, that's a relief. Good to know she didn't inherit the Cameron family's knack for trouble.”

Rafe chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, well, someone has to break the cycle, right? Though, I can't promise she won't pull some pranks here and there.” Your heart skipped a beat at his action.

Your mother chimed in, “Teenagers will be teenagers. Just make sure she doesn't cause too much trouble, Rafe.”

He smirked and nodded, and opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him, “Well let’s not take more of your time, it was nice catching up with you,” then you crossed your arm with your mother’s as you pulled her ahead with you.

Rafe's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a subtle look of disappointment. “Yeah, sure. It was nice catching up,” he replied, nodding politely.

You flashed him a smile, walked ahead of him as he took the turn towards Tannyhill. When he was safely out of earshot, your mother prompted, “so?”

“Even if I don’t like him I don’t have any other choice,” you reply with a shrug, your mother smiled teasingly, “good thing you like him.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at your mother's teasing, “mom, at this point it’s about survival, and since when did he mature?”

The morning stroll was nice, your mother had returned home when her knees started hurting her, but you decided you’d continue walking for a bit more. Observing the well-manicured streets of Figure 8 that you had grown up into, and gazing at the beautiful architecture of the houses there, you thought that you wanted to continue this lifestyle and would do everything in your power to maintain it. 

Who cares if Rafe was your traitor Ex-bestfriend brother, and seeing her would remind you of the betrayal? You had to do what you had to do in order to thrive, you didn’t have anything under your name, and if the facade of your family’s success was found out and the bank managed to seize your current family home then you’d have no other option but live in The Cut. 

People there didn’t like Figure 8 residents, rightfully so, who would like their boss. So what if their former boss happened to be their neighbor, there would certainly be a clear threat to your family’s safety. You had to get Rafe Cameron to fall in love with you, or at least view you as the perfect wife material and to propose to you, fast. 

You weren’t a goddess, but most rich housewives you knew in your neighborhood weren’t overly stunning. They mostly happened to be from respectful families, looked easy on the eyes, and were always around the said rich husband. 

You already had two down, you just had to get the last in check. 

A honk from behind you alerted you, and you turned to the side as a giant polished black truck slowed next to you. Rafe’s truck. His window was rolled down, and when you stopped next to his window you could take whiffs of his attractive spicy cologne, his hair was semi-wet, either from his hair gel or his shower—you didn’t know and didn’t care. 

“Hey,”

“Hi again, Rafe,” you sweetly said, smiling and he smiled back when he caught yours. 

His gaze caught yours, “Do you want to join me and Wheezie on our driving lessons?” he suddenly asked. You blinked in slight surprise, then your grin widened as you cheered on the inside. One more step closer to your goal of being a rich housewife. 

“Will my safety be compromised?” you challenged with a teasing smirk, your hand resting on your hip. 

“Oh definitely.” he replied with a playful gleam in his eyes. 

You nodded as you agreed,“compromised safety it is, then,” playing along with the banter. The invitation to their driving lessons wasn't merely about learning to drive; it was an opportunity to further integrate yourself into Rafe's world, to become a fixture in his routine.

Surely Wheezie would be there, and you wouldn’t be alone but you thought that you should view your lack of privacy as an advantage. If he saw that you were great with his favorite sister, then he ought to have some positive feelings with you.

If you played your cards right, then you would be invited to more things and would have a steady footing in Rafe’s life. 

Rafe's truck idled beside you, and as he prepared to drive away, he flashed a charming smile. “Looking forward to it.”

“Likewise,” you responded, a subtle flirty smile drawn on your lips.

[fiction-is-life]

hi! congratulations on 800 followers <333 i was wondering if i could get lying together in comfortable silence, maybe they’re cuddled up together, either way they’re both mutually enjoying the other’s company with topper. please and thank you!

Cuddles and Competition

Author's Note: Hi, and thank you!! You are always so supportive!! Also, I am soooo sorry I am only now getting to this request! I just completed my hardest year in school and I had no time to write. I wanted to put this out for your birthday but I missed that, so it will be a belated gift, I guess! I hope you enjoy it, love!! 💞

Warnings: none really?

~

“Topper! Meet me in the kitchen. Now!” Dr. Cynthia Thornton called out to her son through the in-home PA system.  You were busy chopping onions for the soup you were making per that lady’s request. You just kept your head down; when she was in a mood it was best just to let your employer run her course.

Topper slowly made his way into the kitchen, a bored look on his face. Cynthia rolled her eyes as she looked up from her phone at him.  “Topper, stand up straight, how many times must I tell you?”

Topper straightened his spine, but his frown didn’t disappear. “Is that why you called me down here?” he intoned, a smirk now playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t be cheeky,” she snapped.  This was typical of every mother-son interaction between the two.  “I have to attend a work event tonight, but I don’t want any funny business.  Rafe and Kelce are not to be here, and absolutely no girls allowed,” she explained while putting her earrings in and fixing the 24K gold bracelet at her wrist.

Topper smirked fully now - his mother had really been getting on his nerves lately with college application deadlines looming over his head.  “What about (Y/N)?  She’s a girl.  And she’s here.”  You could hear the laughter in his voice, and you had to turn away on the pretense of going to the sink so that Dr. Thornton couldn’t see you laugh as well.

Cynthia rolled her eyes.  “She doesn’t count; I would expect you to have more respect for yourself than that.”  That wiped the smirk off of your face.  “I will be home by midnight, and you are responsible for driving (Y/N) home.”  With no further words, Dr. Thornton left the house.

You both waited in silence for the front door to click shut and the roar of her sports car starting to sound a few seconds later.  Once it did, Topper turned towards you slowly, a serious expression on his face.  “So…pizza or Chinese?”

You grinned from ear to ear.  “Both!  Let me throw this soup in the fridge and then I can get Netflix all queued up.”

“Sounds good, sweet thing,” Topper replied, already ordering your usual on door dash.  

Within thirty minutes you were on the couch debating who the best baker on The Great British Bake Off was for that week between mouthfuls of the Outer Banks’ finest late-night cuisine.  The only light in the room came from the living room’s tv and the reflection of the moon and stars off of the Thornton’s pool that was visible from the windows.  

“How do they all mess up something so simple as that for a technical?  Half of them were inedible!”

“Topper, I would love to see you try to make that dessert and come up with something better than the person who took last place,” you teased.

He looked at you with incredulousness written all over his face, but you could see the smile he was holding back with all of his might.  “I could absolutely bake something passable,” he stated, fully believing his words.

“Maybe if you had a full, detailed recipe, but not the paired down version the contestants are given.  I love you, but I would not eat anything you baked without a full recipe - and maybe some youtube tutorials,” you laughed, making him break and join in your mirth before he turned “serious” once more.

“I could absolutely bake something to that standard.” He continued as he started to stand up, “In fact, let’s go into the kitchen and have a little competition of our -” he was cut off by a fast-moving piece of orange chicken hurtling into his mouth.  You giggled once more as he made a show of chewing the chicken you had used to shut him up.

“Seeing as food particles are defying gravity, I guess we can save our baking competition for another day.  To protect myself, I just want to hang out with you and make fun of their accents.  You can be my shield if any pepperoni starts flying,” Topper pulled you practically on top of him as he said this, making you shake your head and laugh, highly amused at his antics.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the show, just breathing in his scent and basking in his presence.  You had almost fallen asleep from Topper lightly massaging your back as he held you to him when you heard his voice rumble to life after a heavy sigh. 

“I can’t wait to beat you in our baking competition, love.  I can just imagine your face when I pull something out of the oven that absolutely crushes yours.”

You pushed yourself off of his chest at this, his arms falling down to your waist.  “Alright, smarty pants, let's bake something and see who would actually win,” you retorted; he had finally played your competitive streak to his advantage, and now you fully wanted to crush him with your baking prowess.

He just leaned in and kissed the determined look on your face and practically tackled you back into his arms.  Your pout broke as he peppered kisses all over your face before settling his head onto your stomach.  “I’m just kidding, love, we both know you would destroy me in any competition except for surfing,” his smooth voice soothed your ruffled feathers, but you couldn’t help but tease him once more.

“I would destroy you in a surfing competition too, Top, don’t deny it.”

His blue eyes caught yours from his relaxed position.  “You have never surfed a day in your life, (Y/N/N),” he stated.

“And you’ve never baked, Top,” you grinned.

“Touche.” He placed a kiss on the exposed skin of your tummy before you both turned your attention back to the tv with smiles on your faces.  You stayed like that until way past the time you should have left, tempting fate that Dr. Thornton may come back and see you, but neither of you cared.  You just enjoyed spending the rare moments you had alone with each other too much to give up a single second.  It was only then when all your troubles seemed far enough away that you could truly live.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: adventuresinobx @bradleybeachbabe @starkeyobx @penny4yourthoughts @topperscumslut @drewbooooo @honeybear-yammy @gillybear17 @hoebx @spinningintheshadows @fangirlfree @get0ut0fmyr00m @poppet05 @graywrites20 @yellowbitchs-blog @laneyy003 @hydraironcaptian @honeybuzzzzzz​ @powellsugarbaby​ @ietts @art3mas @haven247

[celiamae99]

JJ Maybank x Reader

Pt 2!

Warnings: mentions of self harm, reader has anxiety and depression, swearing, therapy, sexual assault, Rafe being a dick

Mature readers ONLY. 18+. I will check profiles periodically and will block minors bc this post is MA!

You sat in the therapists office, hating that you were here. You had been going weekly because Sarah made you. She drove you to and from appointments, making sure you would go to the appointment.

Your therapist was nice enough. She knew how hard life was for you and she gave you grounding tools to help with your anxiety, which was now more manageable. She helped with the depression and managing thoughts. You created a routine you stuck to religiously. You were doing better. You weren’t suicidal anymore.

Once you left, you got back into Sarah’s car.

“So,” she prompted. “How was it.”

“It was fine. We talked about a new breathing exercise. And we talked about what to do when I see JJ again.”

“Did she tell you not to slam the door in his face?”

“I opened it back up!” You defended. “I didn’t think it was him and I wasn’t ready to see him. I did apologize.” You told her guilty. In all fairness, it did shock you to see JJ on the other side of the door.

She gave you a look and you turned the music on. Taylor Swift was playing, per usual, and you let the music hit your soul.

“Who could ever leave me darling? Who could stay?” You harmonized with the music until Sarah pulled up in front of the auto body shop where JJ worked. “What are we doing here?” You asked, mildly panicking. You didn’t want to see JJ. You guys hadn’t spoken in days.

“His bike is broke and if I don’t pick him up he’ll go home and Luke is out of prison.” She told you and you groaned, annoyed that there was no way out. JJ would not be going home for any reason you decided but that did not mean you wanted to see him.

“Hey,” JJ said getting into the car. “I need food.”

“We can go to The Cut.” Sarah said, driving off. “We can get take out and watch movies tonight.”

“I can’t,” you said quickly, trying to think of an excuse.

“And why the fuck not?” Sarah demanded. She wanted you and JJ to get back together and there was no rhyme or reason why you couldn’t go and she knew that.

“Because, I have to…” you thought quickly. “Study for History.”

“We don’t have a history test until next week.” JJ deadpanned. Well, shit.

“You’re coming and that’s final.” You rolled your eyes, sinking into your seat and turning up Sarah’s music so you wouldn’t have to talk.

“I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the pray.” You sang quietly.

Once you guys got to The Cut, you ordered your food. As you were about to tell Kiara’s dad what you wanted, JJ spoke up. “She wants a bacon cheeseburger, no onion, extra mayo.” You and Sarah stared at him. “Fries for the side.” JJ gave you an award winning smile that made you a little dizzy.

As the food was being prepared, you were startled when the bell dinged, signaling somebody coming in. It was Rafe, Kelce, and Topper. You sucked in a breath and instinctively moved closer to JJ.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, boys?” Rafe smiled wickedly and you gulped.

“What do you want?” Sarah snapped at her brother angrily.

“What do I want?” He asked stepping towards you. “I think we all know exactly what I want.” You shrank back.

“Fuck off Rafe, nobody wants you here.” Sarah told her brother.

You were no stranger to Rafe and his antics. He had been flirting with you ever since you and JJ started your separation. Tried desperately to get into your pants. Touched you every chance he got.

JJ clenched his fist. This wasn’t good. JJ had a temper and you knew he would get the shit beaten out of him if Rafe said something about you.

“Come on, princess. You’re not with you’re little progue anymore. Why don’t you come on over and I’ll show you a damn good time.”

You were frozen in place but managed to say, “No.”

Rafe sneered at you. JJ got ready to punch him but you grabbed his wrist.

“It’s not worth it JJ,” you told him. “Please, let’s just go.”

JJ stormed out of the restaurant and you followed him to Sarah’s car, she stayed to yell at her brother and get the food.

“Don’t,” he said before you could say anything. “Just don’t, Y/N. Okay? You’re going to say you’re not worth it and it’s not true, okay? You’re worth it and no matter what terms we’re on, I’m going to fight for you.”

You stared at him, mouth agape.

“So I may not have fought him this time but I can promise you, if he lays a finger on you, I’ll kill him.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Instead of a low key night, you guys decided to go to a keger. Which in retrospect, you should’ve known it would be bad.

You were in pretty deep, dancing with some girls from school when a body pressed harshly against yours. You turned around fast and saw you were face to face with Rafe. You tried to move away, but his grip on your arm was too tight. He dragged to you over to a empty area.

“Let me go,” you cried trying to tug your arm out of his reach. “Rafe! Let go!”

“No can do princess.” He said breathing heavily on your neck and you cringed, hating this more than anything you’d ever experienced. You shoved harshly at him but he wouldn’t budge. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.” He ran his free hand along your back side, and you cried out again. “And now,” he said gripping you tightly, “I’m going to have you.”

Before things could go further, Rafe was shoved out of your way. You gripped your arm to your chest. You breathed in and out, rapidly; you tried to catch your breath. “JJ!” You screamed at him. “JJ stop!”

John B, Sarah, Kiara, and Pope all ran over at the sound of your yells. Topper and Kelce came too. Pope and John B dragged JJ off Rafe and Topper and Kelce helped get Rafe on his feet.

“That little slut wanted it. You left her and now she’s open for grabs.” Rafe spewed running his thoughts together unintentionally. “She wanted it, alright?” You we’re crying, clutching on to Sarah.

“Let me at him!” JJ bellowed. “I’m going to kill him! I’m going to fucking kill him for touching my girl! John B, let me GO!”

Once the Kooks left JJ stumbled towards you.

He grabbed your hips gently and pulled him to you. You searched his eyes before wiggling out of his grip and running towards your house. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t handle any of this. All the people, all the emotions. You couldn’t. So you did what you did best, and ran. You were done fighting.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

You slid down the wall of your bedroom, tears escaping you. You wanted JJ but you knew he didn’t want you. He just didn’t want Rafe to want you. And Rafe, oh God, Rafe had… you looked at your wrist and held it to you.

You felt JJ slide down next to you. “I should’ve killed him.” JJ said bitterly, kicking the floor.

“I don’t want you in jail.” You whispered.

“I know we’re complicated right now Y/N, but I promise you that he won’t touch you again.” He vowed to you. You glanced at his hand, which the skin was broken open and bleeding. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he reached over and tucked hair behind your ear.

“I know,” you said softly, gripping his good hand and squeezing softly. “Now, let’s clean up your hand.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Once you guys had settled down, your thoughts started racing again. What was going to happen? You admitted that you loved each other, but did that mean he wanted to get back together? Yes, you were ready but that didn’t mean he was. It also didn’t mean he was ready to take on your baggage. He had his own life, own problems, he didn’t hear you adding in to his plate. Before you could spiral further, JJ started talking.

“I meant it when I said love you.” He whispered, rolling over on the bed so his face was hidden in your neck. “I’ll always love you. I always have.”

“I meant it when I said I love you.” You told him back. “You’re my favorite person JJ.”

“I took time, I found myself, and I’m still working on me but I’m better.” He said honestly. Hoping that this would be the last time he had to beg for you.

“I have too. I’m still in weekly therapy.” You whispered softly. “That might have to happen for a while.” You said guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Therapy is not something to be sorry about. Ever.”

“You don’t need my baggage on top of what you have JJ. I’m a mess. I always have been and I probably always will be.”

You closed your eyes, screwing them shut. You didn’t want to see JJ’s reaction. JJ kissed up your neck softly before pulling away and looking at you.

“I’m ready if you are.” He said looking deep into your eyes once you opened them. “But I’m also willing to fight for us. And I’m willing to wait as long as you need me to. I don’t care about your baggage. It’s the least of my problems. I always want to take care of you. And I always will.”

“I can’t do a break again.” You told him seriously. “It wasn’t right for us to break the way we did and I’m stilling hurting from that.” Your voice cracking. “I know you wanted what was best for us, but it wasn’t what was best for me. We work through our problems JJ. We always have and we always will.”

“We can work out our problems together.” He promised. “As long as you stay in therapy as long as you need. And you are honest with me when shit hits the fan.”

“And as long as you tell me when you’re dad is back and when you’re spiraling.”

“Deal.” He promised.

“Pinky promise?” You raised your eyebrows at him and held out your pinky.

“Pinky promise.” He said wrapping his pinky around yours.

[allroundvp]

Experience the revolution in onion processing, from traditional to cutting-edge techniques. Discover the evolution of onions, from field to table.

[wigmund]

Pre-made dinner for myself the other day for the first time in way too long - meatloaf with a cheesy squash casserole (recipes under the cut)

BBQ Meatloaf

1 lb ground beef

1 lb sage ground sausage

~2 cups of crushed tortilla strips and crushed wonton strips salad toppers

2 eggs

4 shallots, diced

Dash of Worcestershire sauce

Heaping spoonful of minced garlic

1 pkg onion soup mix

Good sprinkling of Wright BBQ's dry rub seasoning and black pepper

1/2 bottle Wright BBQ's regular BBQ sauce

1 tablespoon or so of honey

Preheat the oven to 400.

Mix everything except for the BBQ sauce and honey in a large bowl thoroughly.

Dump the mix into a parchment paper-lined 9x13 casserole dish and smash down flat.

Mix the BBQ sauce and honey, pour the mixture over the loaf.

Cover the dish with tinfoil and bake for 30-40 minutes

Remove the foil, spoon most of the bbq sauce/drippings mixture back over the loaf and keep baking for another 15 minutes.

Remove from the oven and cut into 8 pieces. Spoon the drippings over the slices as you serve

Squash Casserole

2 yellow squash, shredded and squeeze-drained some

2 zucchini, shredded and squeeze-drained some

1 large yellow onion, diced

6 stalks green onion, diced

~3 cups of stuffing mix (classic and/or cornbread, I had leftovers from last thanksgiving sealed in ziplocs)

8oz package of "Hickory Smokehouse Blend" shredded gouda and provolone cheese

8oz package of shredded sharp cheddar cheese

1 cup Greek yogurt

1 can of cream of mushroom soup

Salt, pepper, other seasonings to your taste

Preheat the oven to 350

Mix everything except for the cheddar cheese in a large bowl until thoroughly mixed and the stuffing mix is no longer dry

Pour the mix into a large parchment paper-lined casserole dish and spread evenly

Top with the cheddar cheese

Bake uncovered for 40 minutes and the cheese topping is golden-brown

Slice into 8 sections and spoon out, the bottom and sides should be browned but not sticking to the sides of the pan thanks to the paper

[devilsanddarlings]

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

italicize what your muse likes. bold what they love. strike what they hate.

Taste : Sweet | Salty | Bitter | Umami | Sour | Chocolate | Bacon | Vegetables | Fruit | Berries | Carrots | Cake | Cookies | Pretzels | Pasta | Tomatoes | Applesauce | Sauerkraut | Pickles | Olives | Potatoes | Ice Cream | Pineapple | Pineapple on pizza | Fish | Beef | Garlic | Spinach | Mushrooms | Cheese | Milk | Juice | Marmite | Beetroot | Anchovies | Gefilte Fish | Peppers | Wholewheat bread | Marshmallows | Mango | Broccoli | Peanut butter | Nutella | Mint and chocolate | Cashew nuts | Tofu | Brussels sprouts | Grape flavor

Touch : Soft | Rough | Smooth | Sticky | Slimy | Hot | Cold | Damp | Wet | Clammy | Coarse | Fur | Leather | Velvet | Silk | Lace | Hot metal | Cold metal | Paper | Plastic | Bubble wrap | Wool | Wood | Tree bark | Hot asphalt | Leaves | Wicker | Sand | Rocks | Rough rocks | Smooth rocks | Hair | Skin | Tight hugs | Gentle hugs | Lip kisses | Skin kisses | Holding hands | Rough touches | Gentle touches | Scratches | Bites | Sunlight | Light sheets | Thick blankets | Baggy clothes

Scent : Flowers | Sea water | Chocolate | Fish | Cooking onions | Cleaning products | Citrus | Lemons | Grapefruit | Oranges | Rain | Freshly cut grass | Wet dirt | Wood | Cologne | Perfume | Fire | Smoke | Gasoline | Tires | Paint | Chlorine | Pools | Fresh bread | Cooking bacon | New books | Coffee | Linen | Vanilla | Cinnamon | New car | Sunscreen | Nail polish | Mint | Cigarette smoke | Leather | Clean Clothes | Liquor | Hair Spray

Sound : Loud sounds | High pitched sounds | Low pitched sounds | Quiet sounds | Loud voices | Soft voices | High voices | Deep voices | Morning voice | Snoring | Rain on windows | Thunderstorms | Fire crackle | Crickets | Frogs | Typing on a keyboard | Horse hooves on gravel | High heels | Laughter | Deep laughter | Giggling | Purring | Dog bark | Howling | Car engine | Motorcycles | Distant chatter | Bird chirps | Classical music | Pop music | Folk music | Rock music | Country music | Klezmer music | Carnival music | Metal music | Rap music | Showtunes | Guitar | Violin | Piano | Frying food | Nails tapping | Waves | Wind

Sight : Red | Orange | Yellow | Green | Blue | Purple | Pink | Black | White | Silver | Gold | Shiny | Dull | Shapes | Orange lighting | Natural lighting | Seaside scenery | Desert scenery | Forest scenery | Field scenery | Patterns | Clear skies | Cloudy skies | Night time | Day time | Sunrise | Sunset | Stained glass windows | Old buildings | Stone buildings | Wood cabins | Spring | Summer | Fall | Winter | Brick buildings | Moss | Flowers | Gardens | Hedge mazes | Corn mazes | Lakes | Rivers | Stars

Tagged by: @pierprincess Tagging: @ofblackskies (For Nick!), @astormymind (Finn), @lupaeus, @storminmyveins (Topper?),

@acourtcfmuses (Marnie), @little-miss-buffy , @lcveblossomed (Cindy), @legends-and-savages (Derek?), and @lcstinfantasy (Kaleb or Dallas.)

[anzu2snow]

This is what I got last week. For dinner Friday night we went to Sully’s. I got chili with cheese without onions, a tuna melt with potato salad, and pineapple upside down cake for dessert. It was all good.

For lunch Saturday we went to Juicy J’s Smoked Burgers. I had a hankering for it. (It’s all plant-based, so I think vegan.) I think it’s been 2 years since I was there last. It was a different experience. They had everything inside. Having a machine to order my food made it interesting. I got their nacho burger without sour cream and pico de gallo. Got it with fries and their fry sauce. It was amazing! The fries were seasoned much better this time. The sauce was interesting. Made a mess.

For dinner that night, we went to Premier Meat Pies, and ordered it to go. I got the ‘epic experience’. I got their mac and cheese pie, mashed potatoes and gravy as a topper, and broccoli slaw as my side. They had the gravy in a separate container to not make the pie too soggy. It was all very tasty. Their slaw is addicting.

[etoiline]

Surprise Ask on Tumblr Time

What reading or watching this month?

Favorite go to recipe? Here is mine: https://alexandracooks.com/2012/11/07/my-mothers-peasant-bread-the-best-easiest-bread-you-will-ever-make/print/51440/

Coffee or tea?

Bad joke alert - Why did the scarecrow get promoted? Because he was outstanding in his field.

🎉

surprise ask whee!

Currently reading The Book of Elsewhere by Keanu Reeves and China Miéville (yes, that Keanu). Feels a little like I'm missing something since this is based off a previously detailed character, but I'm only 10% into the book so further reading required.

Hubs and I have been on a bit of a blockbuster/classic movie rewatch kick lately; just last night we watched Casablanca (my first time seeing it), and we've rewatched Twister, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, Terminator 2: Judgement Day, and Tarzan in the last couple of weeks. I'm also enjoying season 2 of AMC's Interview with the Vampire, but I'm having a hard time finding opportunities to finish it.

My "we have nothing in the house to cook (a lie) and I'm too tired to do anything else" recipe which is not a recipe is to doctor some instant ramen into an actual meal: cook the noodles and seasoning packet as instructed, but add shrimp or canned chicken, frozen spinach or mixed vegetables and dried onion (if you're really fancy add some furikake or ramen topper [Costco I love you never change]). If you've got an egg drop the whole thing in to boil while the noodles cook, or chop a previously boiled egg in half and add at the end. Soy sauce and sesame oil optional.

Usually I crave cheese, so an actual recipe: Pressure Luck's Instant Pot Mac & cheese.

I used to hate coffee (your blast from the past today is how I was constantly annoyed that there was a Gloria Jean Coffee Bean store across from the B. Dalton bookstore in my childhood mall, which meant I had to smell that ridiculously strong coffee smell before I got into my favorite place in the world. Reasonably certain neither of those places exist anymore). Then much later I married hubs and he introduced me to coffee-flavored milk, and that's been a nice pick-me-up on weekends. If I can get it, though, I prefer fruity teas or a good chai (make yours with apple cider one day, you'll thank me).

The cafe I walk past on the way to work always has a joke on their menu stand. I can't remember today's joke, lol, but yesterday's was this (and it's probably funnier on a Tuesday but what can you do):

What's a shark's favorite day of the week? . . . Chewsday!

[note-a-bear]

Gotta say, if you're able to pay for the convenience of it, the 'chopped salad' (actually nice slaw) packs at target are really great 1-2 servings of chopped up greens that you can sauté and add to pretty much any protein (or on its own as a side).

Tonight I experimented with one we got by accident at my store

The theme of this pack meant it has toppers of dried cranberries and dried apple slices, which I opted to include as I sautéed the greens. The chicken was seasoned with cinnamon, pepper, garlic powder, shichimi togarashi, and a little salt.

It comes with a dressing (I opted to use it, since it was an onion vinaigrette and worked well with how I seasoned the chicken), too. All in all, pretty happy with how it came out.

[wattsgt21]

Attendance:

Item 1: The first hat was invented in 3250 BC. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hat#:~:text=One%20of%20the%20earliest%20known,been%20since%20around%203250%20BC.

Item 2: Onion rings were first found in 1802 from a British Recipe cookbook. https://www.thedailymeal.com/1367688/onion-rings-origins-contentious-history/

Item 3: Corn has an even number of rows on each cob. https://www.nestle-cereals.com/uk/blog/healthy-breakfast/top-facts-about-corn

https://www.nestle-cereals.com/uk/blog/healthy-breakfast/top-facts-about-corn

Item 4: Bears have one of the largest brain size compared to other carnivores. https://www.worldanimalprotection.ca/blogs/11-cool-facts-about-bears/

Item 5: The history of comes from a Catholic Tradition because they can’t eat meat during Lent. https://www.vitalchoice.com/articles/cooking-tips/art-of-the-fish-fry

Item 6: Lava Lamp was invented in 1963. https://www.glow.co.uk/history-of-lava-lamps.html#:~:text=Although%20the%20Lava%20Lamp%20was,dates%20to%2016%20March%2C%201971.

Item 7: Bear bones are the only animal bones that maintain their mass during long periods of activities. https://northernwoodlands.org/outside_story/article/bear-bones#:~:text=Bears%20are%20the%20only%20animals,during%20prolonged%20periods%20of%20inactivity.

Item 8: Bears large toe is actually on the outside of their foot. https://bear.org/bear-facts/bear-tracks-and-trails/#:~:text=Bears%20have%205%20toes%20on,toe%20does%20not%20always%20register.

[qwertykeyboard045]

I'm in the drive-thru of Burger King Can I please get a Whopper Jr. with onion rings? Make it a meal so I can get a drink No, I'm not finished, that's not everything

Can I please get a double Whopper with no cheese? Can I please get a number two with a large drink? I got money, so I don't care how much it costs me So just throw in some extra fries, don't make them salty

All this cheese gonna make my booty drip-drip I'm lactose intolerant, I don't sip milk If I see the sight of cheese, I'ma trip-trip I'ma sit on your toilet seat and doodoo then dip

So you got my lil' Whopper Jr.? (I didn't forget that) And you got my double Whopper? (I didn't forget that) What about my onion rings? (Hold on, you can sit back) Burger King, they know me now, cheese, I don't want that

And I'm getting hungry now, I know you heard that Waiting for my onion rings, so I don't have to turn back Burger King, don't play with me, y'all nuggets is so trash Nuggets taste like rabbit nipples, why y'all even serve that?

Better stop playing and just give me all of my food Either I pay you right now, or leave the drive-thru Gave me the bag, and then I took a bite of my food There's cheese in my mouth (I'm gonna doodoo)

I'm in the drive-thru of Burger King Man, they just gave me a Whopper Jr. with hella cheese Made it a meal, so, yes, I got my drink But why they gon' put cheese on everything?

They put cheese on my Double Whopper with no cheese I'll be takin' a number two in the morning Hold on, can I please be excused for a moment? The cheese already in my body, booty farting (I farted)

Wait, did you just fart in my drive-thru? Yo, come, yo-you can't be serious It's just cheese It's just cheese Queso Cheese

Uhh..

Whopper, Whopper, Whopper, Whopper..

Junior, Double, Triple.. Whopper..

Flame-grilled taste with perfect toppers..

I rule this day..?

Lettuce, mayo, pickle, ketchup

It's okay if I don't want that

Impossible or bacon Whopper..

Any Whopper my way?

You rule, you're seizin' the day..?

At BK, have it your way..

You.. You rule?