#spice dump cake

[katsuramazurka]

Recipe for Apple Spice Dump Cake In an effort to serve something other than the standard dump cake for Memorial Day, this cake was made on a whim. It came out excellent, especially when paired with some vanilla ice cream.

[nashbutler]

Apple Spice Dump Cake In an effort to serve something other than the standard dump cake for Memorial Day, this cake was made on a whim. It came out excellent, especially when paired with some vanilla ice cream.

[misshoodoolady-arc]

Apple Spice Dump Cake In an effort to serve something other than the standard dump cake for Memorial Day, this cake was made on a whim. It came out excellent, especially when paired with some vanilla ice cream.

[fullcravings]

Easy Caramel Apple Dump Cake Recipe

[caterpillarinacave]

What do you think Henry's favourite dessert is?

This time of year it’s custard pudding! It’s basically eggs, cream and gelatin with a splash of orange flower water. By itself it’s pretty bland, but it’s served with a black current jam, and is very pleasant. 

It’s very reminiscent of his favorite dessert in the summer, being berry pie and vanilla icecream, but berries aren’t in season in March and it’s cold outside, so he prefers the custard.

[inflatedrecords]

Cakes - Pumpkin Spiced Dump Cake Recipe Top pumpkin with yellow cake mix, pecans, and melted butter in this delicious spiced dump cake that's prefect for an autumn celebration.

[tinihoward]

Pumpkin Spiced Dump Cake Recipe This delicious spiced dump cake, ideal for an autumn celebration, is topped with pumpkin, yellow cake mix, pecans, and melted butter.

[romanados]

Pumpkin Spiced Dump Cake This delicious spiced dump cake, ideal for an autumn celebration, is topped with pumpkin, yellow cake mix, pecans, and melted butter.

[kingshovelbug]

forrest!! SOS!! i have no good food to eat!! ik u can cook so can u tell us some yummy recipes?

oh god i feel like senshi because im so so very late to this ask because ive been in a slump with cooking myself and youve definitely eaten by now. BUT i have a few that i make either when i want comfort food that still checks some boxes of being kind of nutritious or that are just fast

i. spam musubi but its not actually

spam musubi are these awesome hand held things. sometimes they have egg sometimes they dont but i will eat a whole can worth in one go. so i do it as a bowl instead

i start jasmine rice in our rice cooker and chop the spam into cubes vs slices like it would be for musubi. fry them on medium high until theyre crispy. then ill julienne an onion and add it to the spam. once the onion is starting to soften ill add the sauce. the recipe i saw was 2tbsp soy sauce, 1 tbsp mirin with like a spoon full of sugar (honestly it was probably just under a tbsp) but ive been cheating recently and using a japanese bbq sauce i found at our local asian grocery store. once everything is coated i cook it a few mins so the sauce thickens up. by then the rice should be done and then you just take a scoop of each and i add seaweed on top

i know its not proper but since will doesnt like the sweet savory combo and im the only one eating it this way is easier for me to handle. i can store the rice and spam separately so nothing gets mushy and even refry the spam when i want to heat it back up

ii. black bean, pepper and cheese quesadilla

this is actually how i got will to try beans. i just take a can of black beans and dump the whole thing into a pot and cook on medium until i can smash them. ill also fry peppers and onions on medium until they have a little char. spices are honestly up to you and how spicy you want it. i usually put salt, pepper, cumin, paprika, chili powder and garlic in with the beans. once the beans are mostly smashed and the peppers cooked ill throw them together and smash them more just so everything is easier to spread onto a tortilla. that plus you can add your cheese. ive shredded my own and used grocery store mixes so its up to you!

iii. spicy garlic tofu

almost no notes on this. i use less maple syrup than the recipe calls for so 1tbsp of everything in the sauce. and instead of gochujang i use a chinese chili paste, imo it ends up less ketchup flavored but if you like ketchup then just use gochujang

iv. https://thecookiewriter.com/roasted-mushroom-pot-pie/

i dont make this as often but this is a recipe i use as a base and then cheat. i swap in frozen veggies and it speeds everything up

v. hotpot

i love making hotpot at home. its super easy skill wise it just takes some time. you can buy premixed hot pot bases from the grocery store if you have an asian grocery store near you and you just dunk stuff in the soup until its cooked. you just need to watch out for the spice level of the broth

will and i will usually get thinly sliced beef, rice cakes, udon noodles, fish cakes, bok choy and mushrooms. all you do is bring the broth to a boil and cook your ingredients. sometimes i dunk with chopsticks other times i cook with a small strainer lol

[own-tt]

"Say Yes."

Yandere Lawliet x Reader NSFW

Summary: L had always wanted true successors. Ones that are tied by blood. Maybe you could help him with that fantasy

Warnings: breeding kink, mentions of blood, biting, L being a pervert, drugging , L ooc?, L doesnt like his successors much, masterbastion, L drugging sweets, Yandere themes, mentions of kidnapping,

Word count: 1234

Unedited

L just always liked the idea of blood successors. Raising them just right, to perfection. And now that he has you, that fantasy can become reality.

He slowly creeps to your door and knock on it carefully. No answer so he goes inside. And there you were, laying in your bed, in a slim nightgown. You looked perfect like that.

When he opened the door your eyes snapped towards him. You rolled your eyes away from him and grabbed a book from the nearby nightstand, Probably to ignore him. He doesnt mind as he crawls next to your legs.

“Dearest?” He asks in a low voice. You don't reply with anything. Just continuing to read your book, continuing to ignore his gaze. “Y/nn.” He sings. “Leave me alone.”

He pretends that he didnt hear that. “I was wondering something.” Now you were honestly curious. You never heard him ask for something from you. He always just took it. Your things, your clothes. Anything to gain your attention. But now hes actually asking for something? So you respond with an angry hum.

“You remember my successors, right?” You did. He talked about them quite often, saying they were good kids. And they were the best successors he's ever had. You hummed again. “Well. I've been thinking.”

“I think we need more then two.” You were confused. So you asked “what do you mean.” His head was now laying on your thighs, his hair tickling you. “Well. Personally. They could be better, if I had someone to teach instead of the orphanage. I would be able to have even better successors.”

“I dont understand.”

“I want blood successor, ones that are tied by blood.” He says, you finally understand, and your eyes widened. You tried to crawl away from him. Screaming insults in the process.

“NO WAY AM I CARRYING YOUR CHILD EVER! YOU PERVERT GET AWAY FROM ME.”

He tried to calm you down, but all he could do is pull you back underneath him. He shushed you, putting his hand over your mouth to keep you silent.

“I want you to consider it. Just think. If I personally raise them, they'll be better than me even. And we will finally have some company, some small company running around the house.”

You didnt want to think of that, small baby L’s and yours running around the house, clingy to both of you.

An L copy, maybe more. You didnt even know how many he wanted. “NO! I DONT WANT TO! YOU CANT MAKE ME!”

“Not at the moment I cant. I'll give you some time to think about it. You tell me your opinion later.” He said before ducking down and kissing your forehead.

He then got up and left your room. Leaving you dazed and confused on what just happened. You could feel small tear droplets running down your cheek as you stared blankly at the wall.

—

L held the small bottle in his hand, he carefuly read the label, “Spice up your sex life with the new Aphrodisiac. Only a spoon full.” He carefully filled the spoon up with the liquid. It was a nice hot pink, which was odd but he didnt complain as he dumped it in the batter.

He knew you were hungry, hungry enough for food that he made, he told you that he had to go somewhere for a bit, so he was leaving you here. There was no way you could escape. But he knew you were hungry enough to eat the cake he was making. The one that had a small special ingredient.

But he didnt realized that when he came back he was greeted with a whimpering you, on the couch. Trying your best to create some friction with your fingers.

“This is all your fault isnt it.” You panted, not even caring about the vulnerable state you were in. “I dont know what your talking about dearest.” He said with a low smug smile. He was extremely content with the view he had. But he wouldn't mind a little more, “do you need any help?”

“Fuck you.” You gasped.

“If you dont need my help, I guess I'll go get something to eat.“

“Wait! Please!” You screamed. Trying to stop him from leaving. He smiled and back up next to you again. “Yes darling?”

“Please. I need your help. Please, please!”you begged. Your fingers were getting tired and crampy. You couldn't do this forever, you needed someone else, you were too desperate to ignore his help.

“Have you thought about what you wanted?” He said while crawling in between your legs. “Huh?” You sighed. “Dont you remember? I thought you would, it was such an important topic, I cant belive you would forget.” He mocked you, he sat in your legs. Holding them right above his hips.

“Wha- I. I cant remember.” Your mind was so full of that drug, that all you could think about was the relief he was going to give you.

“Then let me ask you again.” he whispered in your ear.

“Will you give me my future successors?” He said in that low voice that made you weak. “But. I dont wanna get pregnant, it's scary.” You whimpered. “Dont worry.” He cooed.”I'll be with you a the way. But I do need an answer from you dear.”

You didnt want to get pregnant, but the need growing in between your legs was starting to hurt. And you had a feeling he wasnt going to start unless you agreed. So you nodded.

“That's what I want to see.” He buried his face in your neck as he started to grind his dick against you. Making you groan.

“I c-ant.” you stutter. You cant process anything when he makes you feel like this. “Its okay, just let me do everything.” He mutters into your ear.

As he grinds he leans over and bites your neck hard, hard enough to draw a thin stream of blood. You hiss, you could feel his mouth form into a smile.

Suddenly he gets up and pulled his pants and boxes down. “I'm sorry, Love. But I cant hold it in anymore.” He chuckles. He didnt hesitate before showving himself inside you. Making you gasp for breath.

It was like he knocked out all the air from your lungs, You could feel him soothing the burn in between your legs.

His thrusts were harsh. Like he was trying to find something, deep inside you. “F-fuck. “ he cried. “Imagine. Us, a little. Kid!” He tries to get his sentence out before he moaned. You cant even respond over him pounding into you.

It isnt long until the both of you come undone. “Cum with me, please.” He says into your ear. you comply, Now you were left with a mess underneath you, and a stalker above you, completely out of breath. At least the affects of that drug is a lot more numb.

“Now.” He pants

“I'll finally live a fantasy. And have a blood successor.” He says while slowly rubbing your belly. Already imagining the way your belly will swell with his child.

You fell asleep, trying to ignore every word that's coming out of his mouth.

But you couldnt lie, it did feel quite good.

[stem-sister-scuffle]

STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 1 MASHUP 11

Lotus/Hazuki Kashiwabara (Zero Escape) vs Lup (The Adventure Zone)

Lotus/Hazuki Kashiwabara is a Computer Scientist and Programmer/Hacker!

Lup is an Astrophysicist and Extraplaner Researcher! (she researches inter-dimensional space travel)

Lup fanart made by @herbgerblin

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Lotus/Hazuki Kashiwabara:

"She's practical she's smart she is caring, she will force hack a security system while she is kidnapped and maintaining a deep conversation like is no biggie and will info dump about science and psychology facts in the middle of said kidnapping"

"At first you think she’s just the token sexy lady character but then like 3/4 into the game you find out NO she is PROFICIENT IN EVERY PROGRAMMING LANGUAGE and CAN HACK ANYTHING and IS A PROFESSIONAL SOFTWARE ENGINEER. She does all this dressed as a belly dancer with her whole tiddies out. Her science-ness is a mild spoiler so I’m not sure how you’d handle it?? But tbh I think it’s fine it’s the least spoilery reason I’ve seen any zero escape character submitted to a tumblr poll"

"SHE'S GREAT SHE'S LOVELY SHE IS A GIRLBOSS. She's also a mom and loves her daughters so much 🥺 Lotus is her codename, not her real name. Most people call her by that name though, since her real name is only mentioned a couple times total... I wouldn't technically consider her real name a spoiler since it's not plot relevant, so do with that what you want"

"milf who loves her kids. a very entertaining character but also helps a lot with the game by using her programming skills. look up her coding cg it is Something"

"She's digital security consultant and a talented computer hacker! She helps you out a lot with one of the puzzles ingame, she has 2 daughters, and she likes to bellydance! also she's divorced"

"canon milf single mother slay. she mean and i love her"

Lup:

"badass trans woman who is not only a highly competent astrophysicist who was chosen to be part of the first extra-planar expedition, she is also an incredibly powerful evocation (blowing shit up) wizard and uses her powers to full effect. in addition she has, along with her husband, transformed herself into an incredibly powerful lich, just all around badass and competent woman in stem we love to see it"

"Literally studied space and inter-dimensional travel and magic and necromancy for 100 years. She was part of her home planet’s first inter-dimensional expedition on a crew of 7. She’s got that transfem swag and literally became a lich for love and science and to save the universe"

"She’s incredible. She’s trans, she’s a lich, she and her husband pined for decades before getting together, she’s an elf, she’s a twin, but that’s all just spices in the cake. She’s genuinely a genius and a total badass and is so full of love. She is the first character i thought of for submitting to a women in stem bracket because she’s just so iconic. Lup Adventurezone i would die for you"

[fullcravings]

Easy Pumpkin Dump Cake

[jungle-angel]

A Rose By Any Other Name (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett can't decide on a name for your baby girl, but thanks to your oldest, she chooses her name

No sooner had Rhett opened the door than Amy, Hannah, Tatum and Tanner came barreling through the door, hanging their flannels up in the mudroom on the coat hooks and dumping their backpacks on the bench.

"Hey! Hey! You little varmits better keep it down! Your mother's resting!"

The babies didn't seem to be listening as they barreled right down to their playroom to settle in and play before dinner. The smell of a roast chicken in the oven and the smell of a freshly made spice cake for dessert had filled the whole house. Rhett went upstairs to find you folding up a newly crocheted blanket that had been made from pale purple and peridot green colored yarn, soft and silky, just like the others you had made for the older children in your household.

"What'd the doctor tell ya'll about bein up Mrs. Abbott?" Rhett purred, kissing your cheek.

"Rhett c'mon," you chuckled. "I'm fine."

His hands found their way to your large bump, growing larger still as the baby girl within continued to grow. He smiled when he felt her little feet pressing against his palms, rolling over until her little butt rested against his hands.

"Jeez, she's definitely following in her brothers' footsteps," he laughed.

You laughed yourself, adjusting your loose red flannel shirt. You and Rhett were eagerly counting down the days when she would arrive, putting together the nursery with the help of Wes, Nora and Wes's mother. You weren't even finished with the room, the crib still in production in the woodshed along with the other furniture. Only the walls had been done, yet if anything was certain, you and Rhett would get it done no matter what.

"Is Wes coming by later?" you asked.

"Yep," Rhett answered. "Gonna work on the crib as soon as he's got the cows in."

"Russ?"

"Got something goin on for a family friend and he can't come yet," Rhett told you. "Nona's comin though. She and Ma are gonna see if they can get the horses bedded down for Dad."

You and Rhett peered out the window to find Royal and John Two-Feathers, a close friend of Wes's family, in the driveway, their trucks both parked close to each other and John shaking with victory as he and Royal both caught each other in a tight embrace.

"Looks like John's had a good day," you remarked.

"Big day for him," Rhett said, folding up another soft little blanket. "Finally got custody of his youngest grandkid and paid off the house all at once."

The day went on as it always did, with one thing after another finally coming together. Rhett, Wes and Royal all worked on the furniture for the nursery in the woodshed while Cecelia and Winona got the horses bedded down and the grand-ghouls fed. By the time dinner was done, it had grown pitch black and freezing out, the babies all having just had hot baths and were all dressed in their warm flannel pjs as they crawled into bed with their own crocheted blankies and their favorite stuffies.

"Alright Hannah," Rhett told one of the girls. "Go pick a book off the shelf and I'll read to you."

Hannah zipped off to her room and began searching the shelves for a book while Rhett came into your shared bedroom and crawled into bed beside you.

"We still need to decide on a name," he mumbled into the curve of your neck, his hand resting right on your bump.

You groaned at the thought. You and Rhett had gone through just about every single name for girls in the little book Cecelia had given you, but none of them really seemed to fit. You and Rhett felt like you were both at a dead end with it.

"Daddy, Daddy I've got a book!" Hannah chirped as she crawled into the bed.

"Sweet pea, be careful," Rhett warned. "Give Mommy some room."

Hannah scooted in between you and handed Rhett her book, one of the American Girl books that she and Amy shared. You and Rhett both smiled, knowing they were the girls' favorites.

As Rhett read from the book, telling the tale of Kaya, you felt the baby beginning to stir inside you, her little feet kicking around everywhere as though she were trying to tell you something. You laughed a little bit as your palms moved over the spots where you felt the kicking.

"What's so funny (y/n)?" Rhett asked.

"I think baby girl just picked her name," you answered.

Rhett repeated the name, putting his hand on your belly and sure enough, he felt those same stirrings that you had felt before, the two of you laughing at your little one having just picked her name.

Three months later, Kaya Rose Abbott is born, her tiny little form made even tinier when she's held by Rhett for the first time. You smile happily when you see Rhett sitting with her in the rocker as the snow flies outside the window, knowing your little princess is safe and warm in her daddy's arms and snuggled in her new blanket and knowing that you and Rhett can laugh at how she had chosen her name.

[collaredattachment]

Break Me Down and Hold Me ‘Til the Dawn

Character: Melissa Schemmenti

Word count: 3,708

Warnings: Praise Kink

Genre: Smut, Comfort, Fluff

Rating: E

Description: “When you say stuff like that,” she says, slower than usual, like she’s figuring out the words as she goes, “I… I like it.”

It’s an admission of the obvious, the most basic instinct of any person: to desire approval, and she makes it sound like she’s turning herself in for manslaughter.

You take care to keep your voice calm as you say, “Why would I think that’s stupid?”

“I mean,” she says and then pauses for a breath, “I mean I really, really like it.”

---

Melissa has a secret and you crash right into her confession.

A/N: Strap in for the most emotional smut i’ve written to date. It’s so sugary you should probably brush your teeth afterwards. Title pulled from Spiritbox’s The Summit

---

The door slams shut at 7:30 sharp.

You rise from your downward dog on the living room floor and scramble down the hall, head rush be damned.

“Melissa?” you ask, but only hear the rustling of her leather jacket and the thump of heels ill-suited for the weather being angrily dumped by the door. Weary and barely standing, Melissa leans against the wall, her shirt damp, hair dripping and her eyes furiously staring at the umbrella she forgot to grab in her hurry.

You kiss her cheek and she slumps against you, face buried in your shoulder.

“Long day?” you ask.

“Understatement of the year.”

She pulls back and you notice the circles under her eyes, much darker than they had been last night. You put your hand on the small of her back and inch her towards the kitchen.

“Come on, I made dinner.”

Melissa looks at you like you’re made of cotton candy or fire trucks and presses a wet kiss to your forehead before letting her heavy feet drag her towards the smell of sweet potatoes.

She collapses into a chair by the kitchen table and you dash to the covered pot on the stove, still simmering on low heat. The second you lift the lid, the kitchen is filled with the scent of vegetable soup, rich and creamy. You fill a bowl and grab the leftovers of the ciabatta Melissa had made two nights back.

“I added extra pepper for you,” you say as you sit down next to her. The bowl clinks against the table and a few drops flow over the edge into a small puddle. “And there’s a bit of bread left.”

“You’re a godsend,” Melissa says. She pulls the bowl closer and sighs; her first smile of the night, and what a sweet little thing it is. Her eyes flutter closed as she tries a spoonful and doesn’t speak for the following five minutes, which she instead dedicates to inhaling her first meal since lunch.

“What were you doing so late?” you ask once she’s emptied the bowl down to a fifth.

“Grading.” Melissa tears off a piece of bread and dips it into the soup. She takes a bite, barely chews before swallowing, and continues, “Setting up next month’s lesson plan, looking for a math textbook for Amir because the little dip lost his copy, replying to emails.” She sighs. “So many fucking emails.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re home now,” you say. A strand of Melissa’s hair threatens to fall into her bowl and you tuck it back behind her ear, where it belongs. Melissa smiles faintly, even though her shoulders are heavy with exhaustion and her eyes can barely stay open.

She finishes her meal in silence and once she’s done, rises with a grumble to drop her dishes in the sink next to yours; the ones you’d meant to put in the dishwasher an hour ago.

Melissa turns and opens the cabinet only to groan at the sight; breakfast cereals and spices and your growing collection of baking supplies, all stuffed inside with little thought as to how you’re supposed to get anything out.

“Do we have any tea?” Melissa asks and starts to remove things one by one, her left hand held above her head in case something comes tumbling down.

“I think I saw chamomile behind the cake tins.” You get up and drag your chair with you. Sure enough, behind the heart-shaped mold and the powdered sugar is a bag of loose chamomile, still good to go. You hand it to her, and Melissa nods a silent thank you.

The kettle sits by the sink, freshly washed after you’d made yourself a cup of milky oolong earlier today. Melissa fills it with water while you hop down and put the chair back by the table.

The running water mixes with the pouring rain outside and you relish the quiet; the type of silence that Melissa always brings home with her, the kind that feels like its own form of music.

You wrap your arms around her waist as she turns on the stove and bury your nose in her hair.

“I’m so proud of you,” you say, almost kissing the words into the back of her neck. Melissa laughs, hushed and short.

“What for?”

“You do so much for those kids.” You inhale her perfume; the scent is heady and sharp, like ground cinnamon. “They’re everything to you. I love you for it.”

“Come on,” Melissa says. “Everybody does it.”

You turn her around by the hips and press your palms into the counter.

“No, they don’t. There’s plenty of terrible teachers out there and we both know it. You just love doing a really good job.”

Melissa braces herself against the edge of the stove, her fingernails clicking a nervous ta-ta-ta-tap into the ceramic.

“Don’t most people? I mean I just—“

“No.” You kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re brilliant. Incredible. My wonderful Melissa who does the most thankless job in the world for peanuts. You should be on a tropical island somewhere with six hundred free mai tais lined up. And a private pool. You deserve nothing less.”

Melissa averts her eyes and slips past you to the sink. She fishes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water. She doesn’t drink; only watches the surface without saying a word.

“Melissa?” you ask.

Her cheeks are thinly flushed and she won’t look at you.

“Hey,” you say and take a step to close the distance. “Are you okay? Did I say something?”

“No,” Melissa says weakly. Her eyes flit from you to every corner of the room and then back again. “That’s not it, I’m sorry.”

You close the distance, your hips bumping together, and take her hand into yours. “What’s going on?”

Melissa watches you, conflict carved into her teeth as they gnaw at her lower lip. She puts the glass down and takes a deep breath.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” she says, and there’s the faint tremor of a laugh in her voice, an attempt at levity to keep the long claws of something serious away from the conversation.

“Why?”

“Because it is.”

You frown. “I highly doubt that.”

Melissa stands in silence for a moment and you wait, nearly breathless, until she finally looks up; right past you and out the window into the brewing storm.

“When you say stuff like that,” she says, slower than usual, like she’s figuring out the words as she goes, “I… I like it.”

It’s an admission of the obvious, the most basic instinct of any person: to desire approval, and she makes it sound like she’s turning herself in for manslaughter.

You take care to keep your voice calm as you say, “Why would I think that’s stupid?”

“I mean,” she says and then pauses for a breath, “I mean I really, really like it.”

You stare at her, confused. The gears in your head turn and turn, and her words roll themselves over, back to front and inside out, until finally, like striking a match, it hits you.

“Oh.”

You remember, then, a moment from two weeks ago, when you were picking Melissa up from work.

You had been standing by the door with your phone in hand, waiting while she packed up, when someone had knocked and gone in; a woman of around 30, probably a parent to one of the students.

You really tried not to eavesdrop, but you were curious; it would be interesting to see Melissa in action instead of hearing a story over dinner, afterwards.

Besides, your stomach was growling and Melissa had promised you a double halloumi burger on the way back and you really just wanted to get going. They wouldn’t take long, right? Better that you’re close by.

The conversation had, luckily, been short, and mostly concerned a Jenna — how she’d be needing a little help catching up once she got back to school after her grandmother’s funeral.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Schemmenti,” the woman had said. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Really, it’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

“I mean it.” There’d been rustling, and a slightly panicked grunt. Melissa must’ve been caught in a hug. “Good girls like you are few and far between. We’re lucky you happen to be so close by.”

After that the woman had left, even nodded you goodbye as she went. A few minutes later, Melissa had appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath and her eyes out of focus.

She’d dragged you to your car by the wrist and fucked you silly in the Burger King bathroom.

The kettle’s whistle rips you back into the present like an air raid siren.

Melissa watches you, shoulders squared with tension, an anxious frown strewn across her face. She clears her throat and takes an unsteady step back.

“I knew this was a shit idea,” she says and drops her gaze to the floor. She retreats further, unsure of where to put her hands as they card through her hair, skim her pockets and then finally settle, crossed in front of her like a door slammed into your face. “Forget it, okay. We can pretend this never happened and—“

“No, wait.”

She freezes, one foot over the threshold. You take the screaming kettle off the stove calmly, walk to her in silence and take her face in your hands, your grip firm enough to keep her from looking away.

“You are gorgeous,” you whisper. Melissa follows as you lead her back into the kitchen, one clumsy step at a time. “Every time you smile I think ‘This is it, this is how I’m going to go’. My heart stops and then you laugh, and it starts right back up again.”

Melissa’s back hits the fridge door, and you hear a souvenir magnet clatter against the floor.

“You are a goddess in leather, okay? The jacket and the pants together — Jesus Christ, Melissa.”

She’s very quiet and very still, save for her breathing, short and nearly panicked. The way she stares at you briefly makes you wonder if you’re doing the right thing, if you’re stepping over a line she wasn’t fully ready to cross, but then the corners of her mouth tip slightly upwards, and you know you have to keep going.

“You’re doing so well, honey. This is new to you and you’re scared and a little embarrassed, but you’re being so brave, so attentive and so, so good.”

You kiss her lips once, quick and soft as a feather.

“You’re my good girl, Melissa.”

The earth might as well have split in half with how rapidly the atmosphere changes; something invisible snaps as Melissa takes you by the hair and kisses you breathless.

Her lips are ravenous as she trails a line of sharp, hungry kisses down your neck and with one swift twist it’s your back against the fridge, your head bumping against holiday photos and last week’s grocery list, her leg nudged between yours.

“Please don’t stop,” Melissa whispers and then her teeth pierce the skin right above your collarbone, straddling the edge of just enough and too much. It pulls a thin whine from you, a sound she knows and translates into please dear god keep going.

“You’re being so good, honey.” It’s a struggle, getting a single word out while her hand tears at the buttons of your shirt. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Melissa’s breath hitches like she’s choking, and the shirt flies open. Your bra is easily pulled out of the way and without warning, Melissa’s lips close around your nipple to gently nibble at it.

She approaches you the same way she would an old recipe; with fierce, familiar warmth, her hands lost in her profound knowledge of your every curve and crevice. She draws a host of gasps from you, hidden into the top of her head as you kiss her hair and hold her even tighter.

Melissa releases your nipple and gives it a slow kiss goodbye, only to nip a line of stinging marks down your ribs, all the way to the top of your jeans. She pauses to dig through her back pocket and pulls out a small, threadbare hair tie.

“Just a second,” she whispers, and sweeps her hair up into a frenzied ponytail. “You ready?”

You smile down at her and brush her cheek with the backs of your fingers. “For you? Always.”

The button of your jeans pops open, the zipper is unzipped, and Melissa pulls everything down with two firm tugs. She rubs her nose against the soft inside of your thigh, breathing slowly and deliberately as she draws out every second to its limit, until you’re close to begging for something, anything.

She looks up and the light hits her eyes just right, makes them come alive like a forest pool dappled with afternoon sunlight, and you’re left breathless.

“I love you,” you say.

Melissa smiles and leans in.

A sob breaks free of your throat and echoes around the room, seeps so deep into the walls that you know you’ll still hear it two weeks from now. Melissa doesn’t treat you to anything but the tip of her tongue, light and barely there, and it is too little and too much at the same time, an impossible sensation she burns right into your nerves.

Melissa presses her hands against the fridge for support and shoves a row of magnets out of the way; the pictures they were holding fly to the floor in a chaotic flurry. She cranes her neck and presses the flat of her tongue against you, and it hits you like a brick, so much after so little.

“You feel so good, honey,” you say between rough breaths. “So, so good.”

Like she’s waiting for it, the tips of her fingers go scaling past your knee and up your thigh, until they’re resting lightly on your pubic bone. She draws a thin line down, down, down until her index finger is gently pressed against velvety heat, and then stops, her head tilted upwards to watch you, patiently waiting.

“Please,” you sigh, “I need—“

Melissa slips two fingers inside, knuckle by knuckle, and drags your trembling whine out, inch by inch. Her rhythm is slow, almost nonexistent as she savors each twitch, each swallowed curse and burdened breath. She leans against you languidly, as if it’s Sunday and she’s leafing through the morning paper, eyes closed and her cheek pressed against your hipbone.

She keeps you rooted to that feeling of home where you don’t have to keep watch over how you sound or look, where the only thing that matters is that you feel safe and loved and good. The pressure of her palm on your waist, her lips, whispering affections like little prayers, her body leaning into yours like this is where you were always both meant to be; it’s all almost too much, like trying to fit lightning in a bottle.

Melissa bends her wrist and beckons. Your knees nearly buckle but she keeps you standing, her hand firmly on the curve of your hip, enough to keep you from tumbling.

“Christ,” you whisper, fuel to the fire. Melissa’s fingers sink until her palm is flush against your skin and she settles into a steady beat, a tempo she reads from your disjointed cries and frantic gasps.

Her hair is slipping out of the tie and you notice a strip of gray, missed by her hairdresser, slide down the slope of her neck and settle on her shoulder. It’s like an ornament, a spot of moss growing on the side of a tree, a flourish bestowed for a life well lived.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” slips out of your mouth before you’ve fully even finished thinking it. Melissa flushes down to the tips of her ears and dips her head back between your thighs, her tongue deft and eager. A shudder shakes your body and you feel yourself drip; you can already imagine Melissa’s hand slick, the sleeve of her shirt soaked.

She pushes deeper and you groan, a garbled, ecstatic sound. Words are almost beyond you at this point, scattered into the wind like leaves in winter, but you still manage to say, “Melissa, my Melissa. You feel so—“ A breath, starving and coarse. “Jesus.”

You can hear Melissa’s unsaid ‘Just me’, can imagine yourself swatting her arm because it is stupid and silly and it makes you laugh in a way that very few things ever have.

Melissa opens her eyes and looks at you, a sloppy smile on her lips and her mascara stained on the left side. She thrusts, pulls you apart like a spool of string even when her wrist must be burning, her jaw sore and strained, but she gives you that small sacrifice in exchange for this, for you, unfurling under her touch.

“Honey, I’m going to—“ Her fingers curl and you feel the twitch all the way in your spine. “Melissa—“

She pulls her face back an inch, jaw glistening and lipstick staining her chin. Wind brushes against the windows with a gentle rumble that clatters the windows in their panes. Melissa catches her breath for only a moment, and then says, “I love you too.”

It’s almost enough on its own.

She falls back into you like she’s drawn by gravity and pushes you to a point where you can’t even think anymore. Her movements are fidgety, impatient; she loses herself in the what, where and how of you, and leaves any notions of composure rotting in the dust.

You grind into her palm right as Melissa tips her head and twists her tongue, gives you everything she possibly has to give and the world disappears into a spinning black hole with you at the center, the solitary singularity that ruptures like a thousand dying suns. You arch your spine and dig in your heels, begging the universe for something to hold onto, and there she is: Melissa Ann Schemmenti with her hand persisting in yours, exactly where you need her.

“I love you,” you cry and the tears come falling, and you let them, despite the tide of embarrassment that follows. “Melissa, I love you, I love you, I love you, you—“

Your knees finally give out and you nearly crash to the floor, but she holds you tight and firm the whole way down. She checks that your back is safely laid against the fridge before pulling her fingers out, drawing out one last shiver from your depleted body.

You notice a faint sheen of tears in her eyes as well, and of all things, a laugh bubbles up from your throat, a wobbly titter that seems to be the only way your body can attempt to parse the tidal wave of emotion still swirling inside.

Melissa smiles at you and then gets off her knees with a hefty ‘Ow’. With her back against the drawers, she pats her open lap and you slump onto her thighs.

Thunder rolls somewhere far above, and the rain falls thicker. You exhale, let your eyelids grow heavy, and you listen. The sky roars and under its boundless weight the trees bow and creak, the wooden swing in the backyard groans in its attempts to stay in its place, and the neighbor’s dog barks ferociously until it’s dragged inside. Above it all is Melissa’s breathing, still slightly labored. It feels like home at its most exposed: the same as her soft snores in the middle of the night, a peal of laughter from the living room, the smell of breakfast when you’re barely awake yet.

Melissa pulls your hair out of your face and starts brushing her fingers through it, tenderly untangling any knots she finds. She sniffs once, and you kiss the top of her thigh.

“What just happened?” she asks, almost childishly, honestly lost.

You turn your head to look at her. “I would say the best sex of my life, but I think you still have a few surprises in you.”

Melissa laughs softly under her breath. “Thanks for listenin’ to me.”

“Of course,” you say. “Thank you for talking to me. I’m so proud of you.”

Her jovial expression very quickly turns a little sour, and she purses her lips.

“You need to tone it down because I can’t go again yet.” She whistles between her teeth. “I haven’t wanted a smoke in six years, but honestly, now would be a really good time.”

“Don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“I’m just sayin’.”

You chuckle and put your head back down. Your eye is drawn to the mess on the floor: the magnets, the pictures, the wood that’s going to get sticky soon.

“We should probably clean up,” you say. Melissa sighs.

“Yeah.” She pats your shoulder and you pull your jeans back up. The zipper gives you some trouble, trembling fingers and all, but you manage to get yourself clothed in a reasonable amount of time. You rise from the floor and your right knee lets out a little pop as you get back on your feet.

Melissa, however, braces her hands against the floor, and then stops with a sharp hiss and a hand on her spine.

“Shit, my back, can you—“

“Of course,” you say, and slide your arms under hers. “Ready?”

You hold her by the shoulders while she wraps herself around you.

“One, two, three.”

You heave yourselves to your feet, but even when she’s securely standing, she doesn’t let go. Her hand is twisted into the back of your shirt and her face lies in the crook of your neck. You feel her lips softly trembling, her breathing coming in and out in small uneven hiccups.

“I love you so much,” she whispers.

You kiss the top of her head. “I love you too.”

You haven’t asked the universe for much, and have received even less; but for this one thing you will keep thanking the powers that be, for as long as you possibly can.

[obitez]

Iris, Chapter 3

Next segment in my Mpreg Tommy fic! featuring Buck's depression baking!

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

Buck looked up from the mixing bowl as the sound of loud knocking reverberated against the door to his loft. 

“I know you’re in there Buck!” he heard the muffled sound of a familiar voice call out to him from the other side. Eddie. 

“It’s unlocked!” Buck called back to him as he started to pour the contents of the bowl into the empty bread pan. Pumpkin spice and walnut bread. This is the third time he had made it, the previous two times hadn’t been exactly right. The first was too dry, the second had an overpowered walnut taste so bad he could barely taste the pumpkin. But third times the charm, right? 

Behind him, Buck heard as Eddie opened the door and walked inside. He started taking off the jacket he was wearing and hung it up on the coat rack Buck had right alongside the door. 

“Really?” Eddie asked as he saw what Buck was doing. “Another cake?” 

“Well, technically this is called pumpkin spice and walnut bread,” Buck said as he pointed at the recipe printed out and held to the fridge by a magnet. “But it can be sweet enough to be considered cake, so I guess you have a point.” 

Eddie sighed at Buck’s explanation. “How many cakes exactly is this one?” he asked. 

Buck hummed, thinking it over. “This is the third one of this type I’ve made. How many bread loaves and cakes in total? I have no idea,” As he opened the pre-heated oven to set the loaf tin inside, Buck pointed at a tupperware container to the right. “If you want a cookie, help yourself. Made them with Jee on Saturday. There’s a mic of chocolate chip and snickerdoodle.” 

Eddie let out a long sigh as he walked around the kitchen island and set his hands on Buck’s shoulders, giving them a small shake. 

“Okay man,” he started. “I think you’ve done more baking in the last two weeks than most people do in two years. How about we go out today, do something else to distract you for the afternoon?”

“Are you saying that I have a baking problem?” Buck asked, growing slightly defensive.

Despite what everyone seemed to be saying, Buck did not have a problem. Baking a slew of cakes, pastries, bread loaves, you name it was a completely normal thing some people do when they get unexpectedly dumped by someone they thought would be the love of their life. 

Eddie didn’t seem to agree. 

“Yes,” he said as he looked point blank into Buck’s eyes. “Just ask the guys on B or C shift, everything you’ve been leaving at the station even has them concerned. And half of them didn’t even know you were in a relationship.”

Buck floundered slightly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Fine,” he huffed. “I guess you might have a small point.” 

“Good,” Eddie said as he gave Buck’s shoulders a small pat before he removed them. “Then let's go, The guys are playing basketball, but there's no way I’m bringing you back there. I figured we could go to the trivia night at that bar down the street. You liked those right?” 

Yeah, Buck liked those. He liked doing those with Tommy. They went at least once a week. Since then however, Buck hadn’t gone to any trivia nights. 

Before Buck was able to say anything however, Eddie continued. “Tommy isn’t going to be there,” Eddie said. “His crew is on shift, don’t give me that look, I was talking to Cory who works over at Harbor yesterday, he’s on the same crew Tommy is. And the trivia topic is sci-fi movies, you went through a huge binge on sci-fi movies last summer.”

Buck hummed in thought. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to get out of his loft for the evening. He had been spending a little too much time here lately. Between work and home and the grocery store to pick up more baking supplies, Buck couldn’t name any other locations he had been to in the last week. 

“Wait, I just put the bread in the oven,” Buck said. “I can’t just- I can’t just leave it. It will burn, and could start a fire. I’m the only firefighter that lives in this building, I can not be the one that starts a fire here!” 

Eddie let out a breath.”How long does it need to be in the oven?” he asked. 

Buck looked over at the timer. “Another half hour?” 

Eddie shook his head. “Fine then, get changed while we wait,” Eddie said as he pushed Buck in the direction of his stairs and bedroom. “Trivia starts in forty five minutes and it’s a ten minute walk away. We’ll have to leave as soon as you pull the cake out of the oven.”

“Bread,” Buck corrected as he walked up the steps. 

“Whatever,” Eddie waved him off. 

About half an hour later, Buck walked down the stairs, changed out of his sweats and hoodie into a pair of jeans and a clean button down. The kitchen timer went off as soon as he took his last step down. 

“Go on,” Eddie waved Buck over to the oven as he pulled his shoes back on. “Get it out and turn the oven off so we can go.” 

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Buck said, running over. “Relax.” Buck pulled the pan out of the oven and set it on the cooling rack, then turned the knob to turn the oven off. He then turned around, and spotted a loaf of bagged sourdough bread on the island counter. 

“Wait, before we go, do you want any sourdough?” Buck asked. 

When Eddie gave him a confused look as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, Buck held up the loaf of bread. “I have too many, and Maddie and Chimney declined it, I don’t want it to go bad. We can just drop it off in your truck on the way out. The suns already gone down, it won’t go bad.”

Eddie shook his head, forced Buck to drop the bread, and dragged him by the hand out of the apartment. “We’re late, forget the bread. I don’t like sourdough anyway.”

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

[bloodlily16]

I think Trahearne's pantry is 85% canned snow truffle soup specifically because of the stat boosts to condition damage and vitality. You open his pantry and it's all identical cans of mushroom soup, plus a tin of saltine crackers. The remaining 10% of the food is meal kits that Caithe puts together/buys and gives to Trahearne that are made of shelf-stable goods. Like. Cake mix+canned peaches+a baggie of spices+a piece of paper with a recipe for how to make dump cake. Trahearne takes the pie filling and eats it right out of the can with a spoon and leaves everything else. Caithe can never know. He takes multivitamins and thinks that makes it okay.