#stuffie: fondant

[friendsofforest]

Fondant & Grayson watching Bluey with me!

[yo-gummy-sharks]

Day 4 of heartnose halloween: pumpkins + jack-o'-lanterns

🎃 🌟 🎃 🌟 🎃 🌟 🎃 🌟 🎃

[toyarchive]

Cookeez makery - Fondant feline

Features: Is a small plush Intractive cat that makes sounds when pressed. Originally comes in a playset with other accessories.

Size: 16cm long (not including tail) Small plush.

Date: 2023

[hyperfix-wip]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Author's Note: Okay, I'm getting the quick sillies out of the way here 🤣 this little blurb was supposed to be some funny fluff based on a TikTok I saw, but I low key teared up writing it halfway. Most of the characters are from @the-kr8tor! I'd also like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading this piece! Also, here's the link for the video that inspired this fic: https://www.tiktok.com/@armee77777/video/7484673629821668654?_r=1&_t=ZT-8uzWVGszy03

Tags: Dad!Hobie, Mom!Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Some Explicit Language, Fluff

“Y’know, you’re gonna burn a hole through your phone if you keep staring into it.”

Your eyes flick up at the smirking Ned before your disgruntled pout deepens, earning a snicker from your long-time friend as you slide your phone back in your pocket and lean against the bubblegum pink counter. Despite the saccharine candy-themed decorations inside the bakery shop surrounding you and the punk bassist, the pastel cartoon cupcakes and unicorns cannot sweeten your sour mood.

“I can’t help it, okay?” you huff out with a petulant whine, “I’m supposed to be over at the girls’ fall recital, but I’m stuck on decorating duty while Hobie is there–”

“Maybe you should get better at playing rock-paper-scissors–”

Ned quickly dodges a smack from you with a cackle, backing away from your flurry of swipes with a shit-eating grin. “Now, now, you’re not alone in this anyway. I’m here to help you, remember? Voluntarily too. If Yuri or James were with you, you guys would definitely get distracted and forget to do everything until the last minute–”

Instantly provoked, you start to chase him around the empty service area, more of Ned’s cackles echoing against the baby blue walls. “Hey, you’re a mother now! You need to set a good example for Billie and Mona–”

“Shut up, Leeds!” you scoff with a playfully taunting smirk, eyes trained on the denim-cladded man while he attempts to juke you around a roundtable. “You can’t give me that crap when you act the same way–”

“Excuse you!” Ned sputters with an indignant glare, “I happen to be very mature, and you know it–”

“Who was the one who nearly toppled over a bounce house with Hobie at the pumpkin patch and landed on a bunch of pumpkins earlier this week?”

“...damn it, Yuri, you snitch–”

Sharp squeaks from your trainers vibrate through the checkered linoleum floor, and scraping chairs soon follow as Ned barely escapes your clutches again by a hair.

“You asshole!” you choke out another laugh while pushing a chair back into the table, “get back here–”

“Ahem.”

Both you and Ned freeze in the middle of the service room, slowly turning towards the counter where an amused elderly lady stands behind it with a pink cardboard box and a mirthful smile.

“Good afternoon,” the lady chuckles as she sets the box down on the counter. “I understand this place can bring the kid out of all of us, but do remember that this is still an eating establishment and not a playground.”

Despite the teasing in her voice, a warm smile curls up on the lady’s lips as she crosses her arms across her chest, “now, I’m assuming you two are here to pick up a cake for Brown?”

—

“God, that was fucking humiliating.”

Ned snickers behind you as he sets the cake down on the dining table. The lavender fondant and the white scrawlings of ‘Happy Birthday, Billie and Ramona!’ on top is a stark contrast to the black plastic tablecloth and orange frosted cupcakes and cookies, the Halloween-themed table only part of the greater ensemble. Green, purple and orange streamers drape along the walls of the houseboat, with homemade cutouts of bats and pumpkins plastered underneath. Hand-stitched stuffies of Billie and Ramona’s favorite monsters over the years are tucked in their respective chairs around the table, the newest additions of a vampire and ghost proudly sitting at the head of the table, patiently waiting for the guests of honor to arrive.

“It could’ve been worse,” he tries to reassure you with a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders as he plucks a stuffed werewolf out of its seat and plops himself onto the seat. “She could’ve just not given us the cake and trespassed us or something.”

You roll your eyes with a snort as you open the oven, wincing from the radiating heat inside, before you gingerly reach in to pull out the bubbling mac and cheese. “Shut up, Ned.”

“What? I’m just saying, it could’ve. We could’ve accidentally crashed ourselves against her display case and caused some serious property damage–”

“Please tell me you guys didn’t actually do that before.”

A sheepish grin curls up on Ned’s lips as he leans against the backrest of the chair. “You know how big James is. There could be a brick wall in front of him, and he could tackle through it like the Kool-aid Man if he wanted to–”

“Oh my god,” you try to fight off a guffaw bubbling up from your lungs as you set the mac and cheese on top of the counter, earning a smug smirk from the punk.

“He looks like the bloke too,” Ned adds on with a snicker, “with how red his face gets after a pint or two–”

“I swear, you guys are more like children than the girls,” you can’t help but choke out a few wheezes.

Ned shrugs before he pushes himself back up from his chair and crosses the room, snatching another pair of oven mitts and sliding them over his hands. “Hey, I’ll have you know we’ve become quite respectable adults. I mean, I’d never would’ve thought Yuri would be those aunties that take a shit ton of photos of kids before the twins were born, nor James be those uncles who would go to all the school events.”

He approaches the open oven and reaches in, the smell of roasted garlic and cooked meat wafting into the kitchen area as he pulls out a browned roast beef. “And look at this shit! If you told me ten years ago that I was gonna be making a fucking roast in a kitchen, I’d laugh at your face–”

More wheezes and snorts rack up your body as you lean against the counter, blinking away the beading tears in your eyes. With a victorious grin, Ned elbows the oven door closed before he approaches you.

“And don’t get me started with Hobie,” Ned snickers as he bumps his shoulder against yours. “Our baby lead guitarist is a damn father. I don’t know how you got him wrapped around your finger after all these years, but you somehow got his stubborn arse to be soft–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” you huff out another giggle, bumping your shoulder back to him as he sets the roast beef down. “You guys are old now–”

“Hey– I never said that–”

More laughter bounces against the wooden confines of the houseboat, your chest growing warm as your memories whir through your mind like an old-fashioned movie reel. Flashes of the mandem pop up– younger, rougher around the edges, with their own burdens weighing down their shoulders, with something to prove that they would not be beaten down by the rest of the world. Tears prick up in your eyes the more you remember, memories of the members gradually shifting closer to how they are now, growing more content with their lives– especially when the girls join in halfway, growing up along with them.

A soft tap on your cheek breaks you from your reminiscing, and you flick your eyes to a sympathetic Ned, lingering on the slight laugh lines on his face that would never be there when you first met him.

‘C’mon now, don’t get emotional on me,” he gently teases you. “Can’t have Hobie thinking I made his lovie cry–”

“Shut up, asshole,” you admonish Ned as you wipe away a stray tear. “It’s just…everything’s going so fast. We’re all grown up…”

Your eyes drift over to the party decorations and the pictures scattered across the walls, each memory proudly on display, timestamping every beautiful moment you can remember.

“The girls are growing up,” your voice softens to a teary hush. “They’ll tell me to stop making them stuffies for their birthdays at some point, huh?”

Ned’s eyes soften before he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug. “Or maybe they’ll ask you to teach them. Make their own stuffies to give to you and Hobie on your birthdays at some point–”

“Don’t actually make me cry, Leeds.”

Watery laughs bubble up your chest while Ned gently sways you side to side, tucking your head underneath his chin with a nostalgic smile of his own.

“...we did good, huh?” he whispers, his voice barely cracking. You nod in response with a sniffle before pulling away, blinking away the rest of the tears with a bittersweet smile.

A quick vibration suddenly tickles your thigh, and you quickly pull your phone out to see multiple text messages, all pictures from Yuri. The moment you unlock your screen, images of Billie and Ramona on stage pop up– Billie grinning with the knitted pumpkin sweater you made for her, and Ramona mid-singing in concentration in the green velvet dress Hobie found with her at the nearby thrift store. Tears cling to your lashes as you stare at the digital images of the girls, already making a mental note to print them out as the newest additions for your family album.

Before you can show the pictures to Ned however, another message pops up on screen– this time a video with an attached text.

Yuri: Billie wants you to have a word with Hobie and James when we get back 🤣

Brows furrowing and lips curled up into a frown, Ned looks over your shoulder as you tap on the play icon and let the video play.

You both are immediately greeted by the sight of James carrying a screaming Billie at a water spigot, the one you recognize as the one near the school gym, while Hobie scrubs Billie’s hand under running water with liquid soap with a face of anguish. Yuri’s laughter echoes in the background.

“You can’t handle the truth, Hobie!” James cackles, struggling to keep her from squirming out of his arms.

“You can’t have a boyfriend! No!” Hobie’s voice drowns out Billie’s protests, “This is not okay! Mona, get Daddy more soap!”

“What the actual fuck?” Ned sputters out a laugh, voicing out your own thoughts as you struggle to hold back your own snickers.

With a startled laugh, Billie’s voice breaks through the discord of the punks, “I admit it! I held hands with a boy–”

“OH MY GOD, SHE ADMITS IT!” James cries out with tears of laughter threatening to spill from his eyes while Hobie scrubs Billie’s hand harder with another cry of agony.

More cackles reverberate against the walls as you and Ned collapse on the counter, tears welling up in your eyes again from the absurdity of the family in your life, your heart growing even fonder of the memories made and the ones that are to come.

---

Song of the Fic:

[jelloujelly]

Desert Dance

On the other side of the Web, a new story began. Like it always does, when the strings of two Webs Intertwine. A flipped world begins, sands blowing across the desert in waves. Canyons and mesas rise above, painting the scarred landscape with rusty reds, oranges, and browns, twisting and waving in an intricate pattern of rock.

The landscape itself was carved by nature's wonders- Molten lava beds which had long since cooled down over time, creating breathtaking caves, and amazing rock sites. These serve as refuge for those brave souls who traverse the Bad-Lands.

These caves have grown, and now, they even harbor cities and towns. One of these cities is called Stalagmite City, the biggest one all. Placed snug in a cave called El Roseau, this bustling semi-1950's western themed town's been thriving. Even has a big freshwater lake.

But that's not where our story's set, is it? Like what someone once said, 'you've got to get to the canyons to strike gold.' Smaller towns lie outside as well.

One of those.. Is Sterlington. A darling little town situated next to a bridge which stretches over the canyons. This is where our tale begins.

With a stubborn city gal, trying to start anew, and a loyal sheriff, who merely wants to make a friend.

These two, to others, were like oil and water. Our gal surely thinks so herself. But.. Maybe all she had to do was open up. Give friendship another chance. Maybe give love, another chance.

She's already trying, opening her home to two souls. Souls she considered her children. But will that be enough to consider other souls 'friends?'

Our sheriff surely wishes to do so. Ever since day one, he's been poking, prodding, pleading for the tiniest ounce of friendship to this iced-over woman. You can imagine how dumbstruck he felt when all of the blue, a large.. Stuffy broke the walls in five minutes, that he's been wearing down for weeks.

But he's getting somewhere.

Tucking a lock behind her ear, Polaris breathed a sigh as she stared at her creation in slight disappointment. The duck cake was not.. Duck-ying. She didn't have enough fondant to make the beak or coat the legs, and she wasn't even sure if her recipient liked fondant or not. 

At least she's getting practice out of this, she mused. But the fondant... She knows she can make it at home. Time to go out again, she supposed. All Polar really needed were marshmallows and fine sugar. From what she remembered, she needed shortening too. She had butter at home anyway.

Starlo was probably out training Killa, from the sounds of grunting and small explosions to the left. Familiar ears popped out of a sand and shook themself off. She waved at her towering feline stuffy kid, Killa, and he waved back, before dodging a bell attack.

"Focus, Kills! Keep it up, Sparkles! Y'all are doin' great."

She called, swinging her homemade tote bag on her shoulders and walking into town. Just hoped that she didn't bump into anyone on the way, yeah-? Funny how just a few weeks ago she was a silent recluse running from a job. Now, she's still a recluse, but she has a job, new.. Could she even call them friends? ..and a family. Her own.

One she's waited for, maybe even wanted. It felt.. Natural, for her.

She didn't take notice of her surroundings, and soon tripped on the front step of an establishent. Gasping, she flailed, trying to soften her fall-.. But it never came.  Instead, she felt something tugging at the scruff of her blouse, holding her face a few centimeters from the wooden floor. She was lifted up and placed upright, making her tense up and awkwardly brush herself off, before glancing behind her.

oh. shiddles.

With a proud smirk, a certain cocky duck stared down at her, worry seeming to glimmer a bit in those hazel green eyes. Sometimes she saw them stern and serious, eyes straight. Other times, they're bright and full of light and teasing.  And others.. She didn't know. It was so hard to read them. Hard to read him.

Sheriff Vercos Star-Cross.

He stood at a towering height over her, five feet taller at most.  She'd never admit it to him, but he.. He intimidated her. In ways she didn't know were possible. Crouching down to be at her level, he took a visual check on her.

"e y- You alright, miss? That was- heh, quite the drop-"

Polar would snap out of staring. Dammit, she was doing this more and more. what was wrong with her..?

"Yes, Vercos. I'm alright. Just flapped in, did ya?"

He would shrug, raising an wing to his nape, still remaining crouched. The air was full of awkwardness- Especially considering the upcoming events.

"Mm, yea, jus' about finished with my rounds.  The bandit seems to have taken a pit stop, so we're all clear for tomorrow's dance."

There was a dance? She wasn't well accustomed with holidays. Upon seeing her confusion, the duck started to explain.

"Y'see, miss, we have, eh, let's say lil get-togetherz when stuff happens. Like for Thanksgivin', Easter, stuff like that. Valentine's is no difference."

"Different."

"Different, difference. All the same."

Polar would shake her head and sigh, as Vercos stood up again, stretching. She can't blame him, it gets tiring having to crouch just to speak well. She should know- Nursed a lil birb when she was younger.

"And lemme guess, it's extra coupley."

Vercos laughed this time, shaking his head. That surprised her. Stereotypes.. Demolished? She was grateful she moved here more than ever. This town was something special, she could see it now.  This was something she had to protect.

"Nawt at all, miss! We're all friends o'er here in Sterlington. I mean, ya can come with, if- If ya want-..?"

This action stunned her. What was he trying to achieve? Was he trying to strengthen their so-called 'friendship'..?

You thought he was gonna back off after last time? Hell. Nah. If anything, it was like he upped his game-..!

..but if she wants to stay, she needs to put effort into it.

"Miss? Miss, are ya really doin fine-? Ya look pretty, uh, not here."

Polar nodded, trying to analyze the situation. The dance will probably be night, or at least late afternoon when everyone was free. Since tomorrow was a school day, the people have time to fix up the grounds during the day. Others might've already cooked beforehand so all they needed to do was bring it. There's probably events as well. She was about done with puzzles, all she really needed to do was the cake.

..But the event wasn't what she was worried about, it was the intention of the one who asked her. Polaris hasn't been to a dance in.. A while. And the last one she had been to was, heh- Tragic, to say the least.

"Vercos. I'm fine. Just lost in thoughts like you said."

He would nod, bending over to be in her face. As usual, in her space. But why was she not getting irked?

"Well, mind if ya consider my offer?"

"I didn't realize it was an invitation."

"Hey, ya kids might wanna go too, so keep that in mind."

He'd gently nudge her with a small smile, making her involuntarily shiver and roll her eyes. Her children. Yeah.

They were a good excuse to go poke around harmlessly. Plus, she wasn't sure whether Killer had been to a dance before- Considering being cooped up in a creepy underground lab. She still felt shivers from that. ..She was genuinely scared. Concerned. For someone she wasn't that close with.

Feelings. They baffled her, really.

But.. If she kept on pushing them away, then-.. .... Crumbles has been prodding her to try. She's opened her heart. Her home. If she really wanted 'home,' she had to start nesting.

And it started with this.

"..I mean, I've been planning an outing so Killa and Starlo can get.. More aquainted with the fellows here. Guess this could be a start."

Was it just her, or did a small flicker of hope leap in his eyes..? And did his smile just twitch a little wider? That wasn't possible, was it-?

Right?..

It's just having the kids around, yeah. Nothing changes with her and Vercos. He's just the irritating sheriff ducky who hangs around a lot and likes to solve puzzles. Which she made. It's not like anything will happen.

That evening, she finished coating the duck cake in fondant, and was starting on accessories. Painstakingly molding and creasing, every single brush she did precise and calculated. This continued on late into the night, and until early morning as well. She saw the first streaks of light reach up, touching the sky and spreading like watercolors on a paper.

It was well past dawn when she attached the gold sheriff cookie badge to the green fondue poncho. She did it..! A beautiful muscovy duckatrice stood cockily on a rock, poncho lightly swaying in the wind. An oversized brown Stetson hung on his head as his eyes looked forward with a determined sheen. Horns poked out of the Stetson, for more 'duckatrice.' Where tail feathers end, a new tail began, hanging behind him in an arrogant-ish way. She sadly didn't have enough fondant to make the transition to lizard wings, but she supposed this was enough.

She's been working her best. ..but would he like it..?

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she started cleaning up the kitchen, when she heard soft thumps from the living room. A few minutes later, a groggy Killa trudged in, ears flopping side to side like they did when tired. Polar smiled, putting the cake away for later.

"mhhhh... Morning, mum."

He would take a seat at the dining table and lay his head on it, groaning sleepily.

"Good morning, love. How was your sleep?"

"I wish I can go to bed again."

Polar shook her head, going over to pat his head consolingly.

"Wanna know something?"

Killa looked up with interest, rubbing his eye with a big clawed paw. Polar leaned closer with a whisper.

"We're going to a dance later."

Killa sat up straighter, eye glinting with excitement.

"A dance? Later? With people and music and food?"

Polar laughed, giving his lil clownish nose a boop.

"Especially food."

Killa hopped up excitedly from his chair, like he was on a sugar high of some sort.

"I'm gonna go tell Star!"

And with that, Killa went pittering away to tell his bro.

Hours later, the dance was in full swing. The sun had long set by now, and night was upon them. The last of the children had gone to bed. Killa and Starlo included- Albeit it was much of a struggle getting Killa to finally honk out- Starlo was a little stubborn, but he relented still.

Now it was just Polaris and the night. And the faint sound of music and laughter. ..She felt weirdly disappointed, not staying, but-.. She felt awkward. Not.. Not at home. There were too many people, too many eyes. And couples.

She knows Vercos said that all were welcome, but-.. It didn't change anything. She still felt alone. Shivering a bit, she curled up on the back porch swing as she looked up at the open sky. It was beautiful. She couldn't get enough of it- Heck, if she didn't see this every night, she would be depressed! The beauty of the celestial plane.. It made her think. A cool night breeze flowed past her and she shivered again. ayy, she shoulda got a blanket.

But she was way too comfy to leave.

Groaning, she'd scoot closer to one side of the remarkably large swing(Killa loves this place, so she made it to fit anyone) and curl up again. At least she had nothing else to do, yeah-..? Nothing much to worry about tonight. A soft flap of wings sounded above her, but she supposed those were just birds, resting for the night. Renovations went by oddly quickly, and she made the empty, three-room cabin not so small anymore- And best of all, she made it feel like home. Not just to herself, but to others as well. ..or at least, she hoped.

The thought made her warm inside, and she smiled.  Everything was.. Okay. For once. And that feeling wrapped around her like a soft, warm blanket.. With a faint scent of leather, firewood, and.. Was that gunpowder? Blinking awake, she touched the new material draped around her body. A poncho- A lot like h i s-

"You were shivering."

Looking up, she saw a certain duck staring down at her with a soft smile.  ..Well, that explained the flapping. "Oh. Um. Thanks, I guess."

Vercos nodded, the porch swing slowly swaying with the both of them on it.

"I didn't see you at the later dances. Mind tellin' me why didn't you stay, miss?"

And there it was. The questions. Polar sighed, subconsciously wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He stayed, watching the stars in silence. Just waiting.  For her.

"I.. It felt awkward. I haven't danced in a while."

"You're welcome here. You know that."

She did. He knew she did. But yet-.. She didn't feel ready to mingle yet. She was glad her sons did, however.

"I guess I got skittish."

"Ya missed a good whole lot of dances, you know."

Polar chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"I'd rather skip than watch you fumble awkwardly."

"Hey! I look good~"

Vercos wagged his eyebrows(how does that even happen?), pushing his white hair back and leaned close to her with a smirk, preening his feathers like the cocky bird he is. As if he thinks he's attractive.

"Stop, you look ridiculous."

She laughed, pushing him away. This was much more comfortable than earlier. The duck laughed as well, a sound that resembled a quack- Yet smoother. It was unique.

"Ridiculously attractive~?"

"You're insane."

Chuckling, he'd sit straight again.  Silence settled around the duo once more, as they sat, watching the stars. Polar turned to say something, but the words were lost. She couldn't.. Talk to him.

The silence was nice-.. But this was consuming.

"So, you dance?"

"Oh- That. Yeah, I took lessons. Haven't done it in a while."

"Do ya reckon you dance well?"

Where was he going with his chatter? Polar just can't understand the ways of this duckatrice. It compelled her to pick and claw more at his being, to fully understand and read him as easily as he did to her.

"I consider myself decent. And you?"

Vercos shrugged, glancing at her.

"Mista Tuwitler did teach me a bit. Tango, polka, two-step, waltz.. Other stuff too."

"Oh? Interesting. I was taught that too."

"Bet you can't tango as well as I do," Vercos teased. Polar raised a brow. "Are you challenging me to see who's better-.."

She'd lean closer to him with a teasing smirk, which made him tense up and glance around, his eyes shifty, feathers poofing up a bit. That made her feel good, knowing she had an effect on him somehow. Since-.. She couldn't read him that easily.

"Or are you trying to ask me to dance with you, hm?"

Vercos blinked, before grinning back, leaning closer to her as well, getting all up in her space and in her face. Second time today, what a shocker.

"Would ya agree if I said yes, though?"

..WHAT?

Once again, she was stumped by Vercos Star-Cross. Or maybe, you're just overthinking. ..Or maybe that as well.

Leaning back, she stared blankly into nowhere as she tried to process it all, when a talon poked her cheek. She blinked, being met with a giddy Vercos face. Her face fell, and she rolled her eyes.

"You wanna, dontcha, miss?"

"..I'm not gonna answer that."

His teasing grin softened, and he stood up, offering a webbed, taloned hand to her.

"Well then. May I have this dance, milady?"

She stared at him, then his hand, and back at him once more. You only get a chance like this once in a lifetime. Don't screw it up again.

"Oh, screw it. You may."

Vercos's smile widened, and his eyes seemed to light up as Polar stood up, reached for the poncho once more, but thought better of it and place her hand in his-.. He grew smaller. Just for her. Standing at a height of five feet, he grinned up at her, tail feathers wagging like a happy duck. ..He really was happy.

Gently tugging her body to his, he placed his other hand on her shoulder. Blinking, confused, she did the same-.. Cause she felt awkward having to put her hand anywhere else. Laughing softly, Vercos led with a step to the side, Polaris following suit. It went along like so, just dancing in the back to a soundless tune. It felt nice. He spun her around, and she laughed, tilting her head back and slightly tightening her grip on his shoulder. He pulled her back gently, and caught her eyes. Chocolatey brown orbs met hazel green, and she lost sight of everything else. The surroundings faded away.. Leaving just him, dancing with her, in the dark.

[sourbat]

Cakeland

Summary: toki takes magnus to cakeland

Pair: toki and magnus 

Rating: T for language and sexual remarks. please read at your own risk. 

The exhibit wasn’t anything like the pictures that were displayed on the website.

When Toki learned about Cakeland, read the website detailing the tour and even fawning over some of the postcards and pictures of the gift shop, he expected an art gallery that contained a wonderful mixture of things both he and Magnus could enjoy and bond over together. The introduction on the homepage had a bunch of fancy words he didn't quite understand, but it indicated that the art gallery held some higher purpose other than “art for the sake of art,” which meant Magnus would like it. The short online gallery revealing sweet chocolate whipped frosting, magnificent white cherries gored and spilling a dark syrup intrigued Toki  (and who knows? There might be something sugar-free). The price of admission was fair; it was low enough where he could afford a few guards to tag along and help keep Abigail and the others content.  

Perhaps that was a sign: the low cost. At the very least, Abigail bringing up the location of the event and asking whether Toki or the band had ever been to “that part” of Chinatown should have sparked some second guesses. The drabby yellow building with its paint peeling near the shingled rooftop didn’t do much to deter Toki either, nor the little sign in front of the place warning of a slight increase in ticket price on account of inflation and needing to pay for next month’s rent. The two of them walking into the well-furnished, but dusty living room completely void of employees and customers, along with the still silence culminating in the dry and stuffy atmosphere did result in nervous wonderment, and when Magnus stopped to point and stare at an incredibly gaudy pair of stilettos bejeweled in fake icing and cherries, Toki felt an unsettling turn of the stomach.

The cashier eventually showed up, and after paying for their tickets, the klokateers guided both Toki and Magnus through the curtains into a long, flashy hallway with disco balls and tacky dollar store flowers and many, many fake cakes. 

Oh, the cakes were fake. Apparently, the very convincing images Toki stumbled upon were a result of (once) convincing practical effects, effects that had since faded in color and begun collecting dust. The many tiered cakes were plastic, wood or something other than dough. The delightful fondant Toki had fawned over were made of some chalky material that (thanks to previous tours) were chipping at the ends and were now revealing their sad, hollow truths. Cheap maraschino cherries and light-bleached pineapple cutouts hung from the ends of chandeliers carrying fading and dead light bulbs. 

Magnus and Toki stood quietly at the pink entrance, both equally stunned and struggling to take in the entire sight. One corner of the room possessed yellow wallpaper and plain furnish, but led straight into a painted meadow. Not a convincing one either, but something more reminiscent of a dark ride presented at a fair. The klokateers Toki brought along seemed equally befuddled by the strange contrast of fast-paced disco balls seemingly racing one another and  the slow recording of songbirds in the distance. Toki’s eyes were drawn to the same red velvet cake that caught his eyes once before, now old and pressed from many fingers and handling it, signaled the final nail in the coffin. This was NOT the event Toki was promised. This was not Cakeland he wanted. 

This was a bad date. 

A bad date. The words were a guillotine’s blade slowly lowering itself upon Toki’s neck. What to do? Toki’s first inclination was to laugh and tell Magnus this was all a joke and then order a klokateer to search and locate the closest gallery they could fint, but after hyping the event up all week, knew lying to Magnus wasn’t an option. He swallowed and watched as Magnus took the first step into the meadow containing chipped and battered walls, pausing only momentarily to gaze at a pair of black stilettos bearing a set of razor teeth at him. The look written across his face was indescribable, but it imprinted itself into Toki’s vision. For several minutes he quietly wandered the narrow hallway, always behind Magnus and hesitant to say a word while the older man ogled at severed mannequin hands displaying their plastic frosting nails and candied rings. 

The rest of the exhibit proved more of the same: Magnus would walk into a room, a hall of mirrors, or secret passage and Toki would watch, humiliated and aghast at the state of things. Could the staff not be bothered to clean the cakes? Every crevice was coated in muck. And what of all the disco balls? The fog machines? And Magnus’ expressions? 

How much time had passed since they passed through the curtains? The map on the small pamphlet the employee at the register handed them showed Cakeland consisted of half a dozen rooms. They couldn't have been wandering for more than five–maybe ten minutes. With no working air conditioner, and surrounded by cakes with dirt and carnivorous dentures, it felt so much longer. Toki prayed that Magnus would grow bored and come up with something to save the afternoon, but he was too entranced by a massive chandelier dripping with rhinestones and orange slices. 

Toki wondered if he should suggest an early lunch? Some bubble tea? Booze? A blowjob in the limo? 

He walked over to Magnus and, after wiping his sweaty palms clean against his sides, took him into his grip. 

“So, uhm.” Toki struggled to think of something to help temper the mood. “That hallway sure ams interesting, huh?”

Without parting from the chandelier, Magnus offered Toki a gentle nod. A comforting squeeze was the only indicator he wasn’t completely offended with what he was viewing. 

Toki pushed some of his weight against Magnus. He needed to find something to talk about, then quickly transition to an excuse to leave. “I, uhh,” he started, his eyes nervously darting around the room for something to nab his attention. “I really likes the giant chocolate cake. Kinda makes me think of when we mets back at the camp.” 

Toki internally cringed at his own comment. Really, Rock-A-Roonie camp? As if the stuffy smell and moths fluttering around the massive disco ball weren’t enough of a mood killer. 

After another, more affectionate squeeze with his hand, Magnus calmly stated, “I like this chandelier.” 

Toki jerked his head upright. “You do?” 

“Yes,” he replied. “The overabundance of frosting, combined with mismatched fruits whose flavors clash with one another against the decaying structure all goes well with the theme.”

Toki certainly understood the words being said, but in the current context? He looked up at the chandelier hovering over the large, three-tiered chocolate cake. It was covered in a yellowish, stale-looking faux buttercream frosting, and several ends were coated in cobwebs. Leading up to the flickering lights was an array of cherries, strawberries, grapes and citrus fruits, all of which were lacking their original lustrous colors. Despite the grime collecting in its many corners and indentations, the chandelier’s outer layer still carried an unusual shine. Perhaps a varnish that, now that the product was on the mind, left a nasty aftertaste in the back of his mouth. 

Still, it was the first conversation the two of them had since entering, and with Magnus appearing invested in the scene, Toki decided it was best to ask, “how?” 

The question, or perhaps Toki’s genuine intrigue tore Magnus from the hanging spectacle. Toki expected him to immediately explain as he always did, but instead he gave Toki a little tug, guiding him to the exact spot where he once stood. “Here,” he began, and turned Toki slightly so he was facing one of his many reflections staring back at him. “See your reflection?” Magnus asked, pointing a finger at the perplexed Toki staring back at them. He waited until Toki gave a soft “uh-huh,” then continued: “Now look at everything behind your reflection.”

Toki raised his eyes at the eerily glowing chandelier hovering above his mirrored self. He had never noticed it before, but with the combined help of the disco balls and the dozen mirrors meticulously placed throughout the room, Toki witnessed his one of many selves surrounded by a kaleidoscope of fruits, rot, light and dust. 

“All that frosting,” he heard Magnus say into his ear.  “Fruit. Glitter and gold. Filth. It all comes down to the problem of consumerism and overabundance.” 

Overabundance? In a room with a cake and creaky furniture? 

Toki stared back at his reflection.  “But it am’st not real.” 

Magnus let out a mild chuckle. "Maybe not the ones in the mirror, but the threat is real.”  His warm breath splashed over Toki’s cheek as he leaned close and pointed to the original cake resting before them. “Otherwise, there’d be no cake to begin with. The cake represents the allure of “having it all,” you get it? It’s there as bait. It’s a goal for you and everyone else to compete against. And once you have it you don't even use it. You hoard it and let it all go to waste…”

All this from a room decked with lights and mirrors? Toki couldn’t fathom how he and his reflections and the ugly plastic fruit amounted to such a heavy message. Magnus, however, did, and as he broke into a delighted tangent about how the exhibit could also represent falsifying wealth Toki found himself looking around the stuffy room one last time and took note of the construction and careful placement of every flower, mirror and stairway.  It all looked so cheap, but maybe that was the point? Maybe the junk collected in each room had something to do with waste, or money, or politics? Maybe the flickering lights and chirping was supposed to make him uncomfortable? 

Or maybe this was a stupid art gallery designed by a man with a weird obsession for shoes, teeth, the 70s and all things sweet? 

Whatever it was, it resulted in Magnus talking enthusiastically about the subject. He guided Toki through the rooms, squeezing and playfully swaying their clasped hands while discussing how artists manufacture the setting to better relay their intended tone. He was so enthusiastic Toki almost believed that the stale air he was forced to breath served a purpose (it didn’t, and he made sure to ask a gear if they could send a squad to burn the building down once they left LA). They made their way out of the final room and into the gift shop, where two klokateers were waiting with two pre-purchased gift bags. Magnus was only too pleased to snatch his from one of the body guards. Any remaining doubt that hinted Magnus had been sarcastic or lying about Cakeland was disregarded at the sight of him opening the bag and happily retrieving a wick lighter. 

“Not bad, as far as galleries go,” he committed as they walked out of the building and back into the streets cluttered with signs and tourist trap advertisements. 

“Really?” Toki flashed a toothy grin. 

Even if he still didn’t quite understand the grand connection between rooms filled with cake and isolation brought on by capitalism, Toki knew he’d somehow achieved the impossible. This was a good date after all. 

“Yeah,” Magnus replied, then neared and rubbed the tip of his nose against Toki’s flushed sides. “This was one of your better ideas.” 

His better ideas. Toki’s ears tickled hot  with a humble blush. 

“Aw, well, it was nothinks.”

[its-max-okay]

Thursday, 31st December 2020; evening The Joker; Yeon Nen Highranker’s Ball @fromashanddust​

The evening was wearing on, and Max was starting to get just a little tired of the elbow-rubbing and handshaking and decorum -- you know, that thing she lacked? -- of the standard highranker party. Her feet might not have been hurting and she didn’t need to worry about the turning radius on her outfit like she had at certain other parties in the past, but the stiff fabric of her uniform was still a touch oppressive in the crystal pyramid’s heated interior, particularly considering the press of bodies in attendance.

She didn’t know the stuffy Hearts she’d lost Jihoon to, and unfortunately for him, she didn’t want to; she hadn’t abandoned him, per say, and she did murmur that she’d bring him another drink when she got back, but it wasn’t obvious how long that’d be. Max didn’t know how many conversations of her own she’d get caught in, or who else would ask the same dreadfully boring question of which toy she’d brought (Max had started making up answers, at this point). But if there was one thing Max knew for certain, it was that she needed some food to soak up this alcohol ASAP, or her decorum was going to be suffering even more than usual.

Crossing to the banquet table like a woman on a mission, Max cradled her half-finished drink in one hand and tapped thoughtfully at her lips with the other, glancing over the decadent spread. So enamoured was she with the bite-size squares of finely iced and intricately fondant-ed cake that she reached without realizing someone else had eyes on the same prize -- and as she scanned up the crimson satin sleeve to the man in possession of the hand hers had brushed, Max automatically tilted her head with a sly smile.

“Anyone else and I might threaten to take their arm off for stealing my cake.” The sword at her hip, however ceremonial, backed up the playful(?) threat. “But for a handsome stranger such as yourself, I think I can make an exception.”

[littlemissnellie]

whilst kieran panicked about the engagement on his own, at least they could stress about the wedding together. rounding up their family and flying them out to strangerville proved to be even more taxing than they’d predicted, so after finally being able to settle on a date where everyone could make it they agreed that they wanted to keep everything else as simple as possible. besides, as long as they were both there and willing to say ‘i do’, then nothing else mattered.

sunlight rolled off the red rock mountains and lit up their faces even more than their smiles did. everything just seemed to have fallen into place. kieran didn’t have to wear a stuffy suit like his mom had wanted and jo didn’t have to wear a pristine white gown with a train and a veil that went on for miles like her mom wanted, they just got to do things their way. and when their parents saw for themselves how happy they were, none of their petty family traditions mattered. after all, it was jo and kieran’s day to celebrate their love for each other. sure, they had a giant cheesecake instead of a pretty, tiered gateaux covered in white fondant and flowers and they improvised goofy vows instead of planning them to a t, but that felt much more appropriate for them than any conventional wedding practices did. and after running the melted cheese fountain dry and dancing through the night, they ended the day as something that fourteen-year-old jo and kieran would never have believed: husband and wife.

[ask-smutty-lucifer]

“Hello, bunnies, bamadoo!” Wilva greets them as she enters their big place. She sits down and cuddles with Fondant who crawls up into her lap immediately. Lucifer sits down with her until Dove comes over to say goodbye to her best friend. “I’ll see you soon!” Dove says as she hugs her tight. “I’ll miss you, bamadoo!“ Wilva pouts as they break the hug. “Miss you too! I’ll get you something!” She promises her friend before she hurries to her mom and dad. They planned a little trip through Europe. Just a short thing to spend some time alone. Misha packs the last things into the light blue van as North waits, ready to start the car. The car is quite big, perfect for a big trip with a kid. Dove sits down at her place, accompanied by her favourite stuffie and some toys to keep her busy. It’s all neatly packed in her bags. There’s a table she can use too! “So, who’s ready for our trip?” The trunk closes and Misha sits down next to his wife and in front of his daughter. || “Yes, you may.” Athol says and gives her one. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Me!” Dove says excitedly, clapping her little hands, her black hair bobbing as she bounces in her seat. “Me is ready! Super ready!”

||

“Mommy’s in her room!” Edythe says, plopping down onto the ground and starting to nom on her cookie. “She said something about a lawyer, me thinks. Since nobody can find Daddy. Boring grown up stuff!”

[friendsofforest]

Butterscotch, Fondant, and I got to spend a week at my boyfriend’s place!

[wildtenacity]

meet meme / accepting

Muse A walked into Muse B at an art gallery because Muse A was too busy staring at the paintings. / @elenaloveablekotsala

Art really isn’t her thing.

She’s tried to understand it, tried to at least appreciate it. But it’s just...not something she can wrap her head around. It bores her to tears. ( Some would argue that she’s an artist — that the things she can do with frosting, fondant, and cakes are an art form in of itself, but she would vehemently disagree. She is a baker, thank you very much. )

Evelyn is currently staring at a painting by some stuffy, now-deceased artist. She turns to walk away, to find her nephews and sister-in-law, and beg to be released from this torment when she bumps into a person standing behind her. Aw, shit.

“I’m so sorry,” she begins, a sheepish smile accompanying the blush that appears on her cheeks. “You’d think since I’ve been staring at it long enough, it would make sense but...”

[maximumtyphooncollection-us-blog]

The 10 Best Wedding Cakes

Be certain that your cake designer focuses on wedding cakes. This cake could be absolutely the tour de force of traditional wedding cakes! Traditionally styled wedding cakes are always a preferred choice with couples as they evoke a way of classic opulence. Check out some of our favourite simple wedding cakes within the slideshow above. Weddings don't need to be so stuffy.'” For summertime wedding cakes, Amy Beck Cake Design has had mouthwatering success with a vibrant passionfruit curd. Let Us Create A Lovely Wedding Cakes For Your Special Day! Cake Designers specializes in the best wedding cakes in Orlando, nevertheless also provides grooms cakes and tiered cakes for other events. Marie has been creating Designer Wedding Cakes on Maui for over 15 years. Little Millie's make the most wonderful wedding cakes and every one is designed to fit your necessities and funds. Visit Here are candy accents for simple wedding cakes, as are edible prospers, such as pearl sugar sprinkles, metallic sugar crystals, and tiny nonpareils. We have now skilled-grade cake pans to bake historically elegant wedding cakes and even square wedding cakes. With our collection of decorations and tools for wedding cakes, it's easier than ever to design your individual! We provide a variety of lessons the place you possibly can learn how to make special birthday cakes in your little one, vacation candy for gifts or learn to make critical money making cupcakes or wedding cakes! Bare wedding cakes have a candy simplicity that's just perfect for Spring.

Of all of the time honored wedding traditions, wedding cakes are certainly one of our favorites. Adorn your wedding cakes / attire / playing cards with these small high quality elegant fake pearl impact ribbon banding decorations. Beautify your wedding cakes / attire / cards with these high quality elegant faux pearl impact ribbon banding decorations. You can see every part from individual sugar roses to elegant diamante letters and floral cascades for large wedding cakes. Call or e-mail at the moment to inquire about our award-profitable wedding cakes! The Cake: Wedding cakes preserved their white icing covers and included 'Art Deco' designs: daring geometric curves, zigzags and chevrons in metallic colours, embracing the glamour of the roaring '20s. Wedding cakes are available in all shapes, sizes, colours, and flavors—believe us, we have seen (virtually) all of them and put a lot of them within the pages of Brides! Daily supply to NYC venues; wedding cakes ship nationwide via UPS Subsequent Day Air. This cult favourite makes use of fresh components to make multi­tiered wedding cakes with a simply-baked style. I exploit this recipe for my children' birthdays, nevertheless it's a favorite for wedding cakes, too! Half II of PaperCity‘s Blue E book is devoted to towering wedding cakes (and cupcakes) and top-notch caterers sure to fill your wedding day with unforgettable edible memories. From hand-painted desserts to unicorns , these wedding cakes will assist you to dream up probably the most enchanting massive-day dessert your visitors have ever seen. Wedding cakes take heart stage at any venue, so an ornate-fashion design is just the factor impress your company. Luscious wedding cakes for brides on a quest and a cake decorators dream with answers to fondant questions, baking from scratch and starting your own business. WELCOME Bakers, Cake Decorators and DIY Brides You've gotten stumbled upon the very BEST and most dependable tried and true scratch cake recipes for wedding cakes, birthday celebrations and extra. The Master's Baker churns out 1,500 customized wedding cakes every year, plus cupcake tables and mini desserts. Inside our characteristic of Romantic Floral Wedding Cakes we had two breath-taking cakes with lovely accents of flowers that conquered the hearts of many. 2013: Lengthy Islanders voted Candy Karma Desserts in East Meadow Best Wedding Cakes on Lengthy Island! For dessert that is as scrumptious as it is stunning to behold, Great Wedding Cakes in Locust Valley, nicely, takes the cake. 2017: Long Islanders Voted The Candy Duchess Best Wedding Cakes on Lengthy Island. 2018: Long Islanders Voted The Candy Duchess Best Wedding Cakes on Lengthy Island. We take a look at pretty wedding cakes all day, daily however there are at all times those that stand out, and 2014 proved to be a brilliant fashionable yr in the wedding cake division.

[friendsofforest]

All of my bunny stuffed animals!!!

[friendsofforest]

Watching Star Trek: Enterprise with Fondant :3

[friendsofforest]

Fondant is crocheting with me again today!

[friendsofforest]

Lime & Fondant are watching Community with me while we wait for my home infusion nurse!!!