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#breakfast meal
northbirdblog · 14 days
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Pecan Peach Granola
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thevibranthomestead · 4 months
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Simple Oatmeal Porridge Recipe
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Food so Scrumptious, Food so Good, Life is Golden
Read More Here: thevibranthomestead3.wordpress.com
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scaner1 · 4 months
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Recipe for Norwegian Potato Klub Norwegian Klub is a potato dumpling dish that is easy to make and can be customized in many ways. These are great as leftovers — just fry and enjoy. 2 cups all-purpose flour, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 2 teaspoons salt, 6 slices bacon, 10 medium potatoes peeled and shredded
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fusionhiphop · 5 months
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Norwegian Potato Klub Recipe Norwegian Klub is a potato dumpling dish that is easy to make and can be customized in many ways. These are great as leftovers — just fry and enjoy.
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drulalovescas · 7 months
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That time during the widower arc when Dean ate pb&j because it reminded him of Cas. No, really. He really did that. He missed Cas THAT MUCH.
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captainkirkk · 15 days
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Another favourite angst trope: When a character is so used to being treated badly that they don't see anything wrong with it and talk and think about it very matter-of-factly
Until they meet the other characters and see how HORRIFIED they are every time they reveal another detail from their past
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imdamagecontrol · 2 months
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taken by the view
jegulus microfic. 2,990 words. nsfw. for @alarainai when they return from war, mwah <3 elementary teacher regulus, hot dad james, age gap, and parent-teacher conferences gone wrong (...right?). wrote this for fen after some silly brain rotting, but didn't know where to put it. so tumblr it is! enjoy <3
“Just down the hall and to your right, Mr. Potter,” the receptionist tells him. “He’s in room one twelve.”
“Thank you so much.” James gives her a warm smile before slipping through the double doors that lead into the school halls.
He rubs at the back of his neck, nerves bundled in his gut. It’s usually Lily who deals with Harry’s teachers. Not because James doesn’t have the desire, but because it takes a lot more to get Lily to fold. She’s violently protective of their son, who’s just turned nine and has as much attitude as his mother. Well, mothers. James sees a little of Lily’s and Pandora’s mannerisms in Harry now.
James wouldn’t be surprised if those mannerisms are the exact reason he received a call from Lily earlier asking if he could fill in for her at this parent-teacher conference.
“He’s just been having a rough go of it,” she’d said in between apologies. “I know you’re busy with trial, but I can’t make it.”
“It’s fine, Lils,” he’d told her earnestly. “I’m his dad. I don’t mind.”
And he doesn’t. In fact, he’s more than happy to do all of the Dad Things. He just has very little experience with this one, and Lily didn’t give him any tips for handling teachers who might not understand their son.
When he reaches Room 112, he knocks three times.
“Come in. It’s open.”
James takes a deep breath, loosens the tie around his neck to appear less Stuffy Lawyer and more Casual Dad, and pushes down on the door handle.
The room inside is lovely. The desks are arranged in neat double rows all facing a polished white board. One wall is decorated with the students’ most recent crafts, another is covered in old movie posters, and another houses half-height bookshelves bursting with picture books, chapter books, and even full-length novels. It’s tidy, with everything put neatly away, but still homely. It even smells of warm vanilla cookie and a hint of spice.
At the front of the room, tucked in the corner to give a view of the entire class, is an L-shaped desk. There are cabinets underneath covered in taped-on arts and crafts. I <3 Mr. Black! and Mr. Black is the best teacher! and a host of similar messages are haphazardly slapped all over.
But it’s not the room, or the decorations, or even the desk that gives James pause—it’s Mr. Black himself.
He sits with his fingers steepled under his chin. They’re long, adorned with silver rings, and James feels a flash of irritation. It’s impossible to tell if one of the ones on his left hand is a wedding ring. Considering James’ luck with dating these days, he wouldn’t be shocked if Mr. Black is married. Or, at the very least, has zero interest in men. Then again, it would be a double whammy if he is interested in men but is also married, and James is simply—
“Mr. Potter, are you quite alright?”
James realizes his mouth has been hanging open for God only knows how long. He snaps it shut. “Sorry,” he mutters, cheeks heating. “Long day. I’m Potter James.” He flinches. “Sorry, no. That’s not right. Mr. Potter. Oh, no. That’s—James. Hello. My name is James.”
What is he doing, standing here in his son’s English teacher’s classroom and acting a fool?
Mr. Black holds out his hand. James has to cross the room in quick strides to shake it. It’s warm in his, a firm grip. He tries not to think about it.
“I’m Regulus. Unless you’d prefer to call me Mr. Black?”
“I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you.” Oh, he’s flirting. He’s not meant to be flirting. Not with his son’s teacher. Who may or may not be married. Who may or may not be interested in men. James has been presumptuous, hasn’t he? Gone and done it again, then. Out of practice and—
“James? You can let go of my hand. Nice as it is, this is a bit long for a handshake.”
Death by a thousand cuts would be a preferred method of torture over this embarrassment.
With a sheepish grin, he lets go of Regulus’ hand. “Sorry. Quite a long day.”
“So you said.”
“Do you mind if I—?”
Regulus shakes his head and gestures to one of two seats across from his desk. “No, no. By all means. Do you want anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?”
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.”
A heavy silence settles between them until Regulus takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry to call you in on such short notice on a Friday. Though I believe I called your wife—”
“Ex.”
Regulus blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Lily is my ex-wife.”
“Oh. I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
“No, no. It’s fine.” James waves a dismissive hand. “It was amicable. Mutual? No need to apologize. But yes, her schedule is usually freer for these sorts of things. A rare occurence that she’s the busy one. Maybe I should apologize to you.”
Regulus’ brow arches under a curl that’s fallen over his forehead. James’ fingers twitch. “To me?”
“You’re stuck with me now.”
“No one said that’s a bad thing.”
James goes to war and back with how much effort it takes to keep his hands to himself over this comment. Seemingly unperturbed, Regulus continues on. He chronicles Harry’s misbehavior this last week, as well as his concern with where it might be coming from.
In truth, James is hardly listening. He knows Lily will ring his neck for it later, but it’s been a long day, he hasn’t had much luck in any department lately, and Regulus Black might be the finest thing he’s seen in a long, long time. He’s all sharp angles and shadow, but light hits the height of his cheekbones, the gray of his eyes. James has to stick his hands under his thighs like a kid who’s been told not to touch a shiny new toy.
Then there’s his voice, smooth as honey and just as sweet. Even when he expresses disappointment in Harry’s newfound penchant for talking back to teachers, James finds his thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. Territory that looks a lot like I wonder what he would sound like if I…
James needs to get laid.
Not by Regulus, per se. But also not not by Regulus, either. James is open to it. The twitch in his trousers when Regulus gets up and stretches to grab the classroom behavioral chart off the wall behind him, exposing a thin strip of his lower back, is enough for James to know he’s very open to it.
But he still doesn’t know if one of those damned rings on Regulus’ left hand is a wedding ring.
There aren’t any pictures, though that’s not atypical of teachers. Their private lives are their own. No need for students—or their parents—to pry. Maybe he’s not married, but dating. Committed. James feels that same irritation. Because of course a creature as lovely as this one isn’t single. He’s come to realize this is the natural order of things: the ones he wants? Spoken for.
This is the curse of his forties. It has to be. Lily met Pandora when they were in their mid-thirties. James bounced around, grumbling over drinks to both women when none of the people he tried felt right. Pandora would pat him on the back, and Lily would fix him another cocktail. Then James would go home, lie in bed alone, and glare at the ceiling.
It’s nice to have two teams to choose from, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the pool is any bigger. It just means there’s more for him to sample—and more for him to find disappointing. Unfulfilling. Lackluster.
Regulus Black is decidedly not lackluster.
He is, however, staring at James with a slightly alarmed expression. “Mr. Potter, have you been listening to a single word for the last ten minutes?”
“Honestly? No.”
Regulus goes red as a stop sign, but before he can say a word, James continues, “To be completely honest with you, I’m trying. To listen, that is. But you’re—You’re really lovely to look at. Did you know?”
Gray eyes go round. “I—What?”
“I’m about to flirt my way right into the sun, so I need to know if you’re married. Or dating. Or literally anything that will keep me from taking you on a date tonight.”
Regulus blinks several times. Slowly, he replies, “I’m not married. Or dating.” His tongue runs over his bottom lip, and James fights the urge to throw himself right on the floor. “Or anything that will keep you from taking me on a date tonight.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“But Harry—”
“Me and Lily will talk to him. He’s nine, but he’s smart. Sometimes too smart. We’ll make sure he understands consequences follow if he doesn’t behave properly in class.” James gets to his feet, practically bouncing. “So, what will it be? Dinner sound alright?”
“Wait, you were serious? Right now?”
James’ heart plummets. “Of couse I was serious. And yes, right now. Unless you have Friday plans, in which case tomorrow. Or the day after.”
“You don’t even know me!”
“That’s the point of a date, silly. Or, if you’d like, we can do brief introductions. Get the fussy bits out of the way.” James holds out his hand and grins. “James Potter. Lawyer, unfortunately. Recently forty, which is also a little unfortunate. I used to have lots of hobbies, but now I have a nine-year-old. Who’s great, by the way. Just…not in class, apparently.”
Regulus looks thoroughly taken aback. “We already shook hands.”
“Second time is the charm.” He grins when a warm palm slides against his.
“Regulus Black. Teacher. Not married or dating. Twenty-six, if that’s alright with you. Er, I have hobbies. Books, mostly. Wine tasting sometimes.”
“Italian sound good then? I know a nice place nearby.”
James decides he’ll damn near bend himself into a pretzel to see Regulus smile like this always.
“That sounds perfect.”
— 𖥔 —
It’s been a long time since James last slept with someone, so he’s pleased to know he’s still got it in him. Especially considering his forty-year-old body, much as he works to maintain it, is not nearly what his twenty-something-year-old body was. His bones protest a little more, and he’s been known to pull something on occasion.
Maybe it’s Regulus, who’s on him the second his front door closes, and the effect he seems to have on James. They spent the entire dinner chattering back and forth, laughing plenty, while the rest of the world seemed to not exist. And James, ever determined to be the gentleman, was fine with letting it end after dessert. At least, until Regulus leaned over the table, beckoning him close, and whispered, “Do you have Harry tonight?”
“No. Lily has him this weekend. Why?”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you, Mr. Potter?”
Which is how he finds himself attached to one very feisty Regulus Black, who’s just yanked at his tie, the buttons on his shirt, and the buttons of his trousers in less than a minute. The buttons and tie land on the floor of James’ foyer, only to be quickly followed by his dress shirt and nearly all of Regulus’ clothes.
“Not gonna make it to the bedroom at this rate, love,” James murmurs against Regulus’ mouth, walking them backwards toward the stairs.
“That’s fine. Stairs are fine.” Regulus cups James through his briefs, grinning at the whimper that falls from his lips. “Where the hell were you hiding this?”
“You’re flattering me.”
“Yeah, because you’re not fucking me. I’m getting impatient. If flattery gets you to—”
They make it as far as the first landing before James is inside him. He realizes his bedroom is right there at the top of the stairs, but Regulus has a mouth on him like no other. He tells James more, demands another finger, snaps, “I can take it,” and James is more than happy to deliver. Spit is not ideal when there’s a perfectly good bottle of lube some twenty feet away, but the withered sound from Regulus’ throat when James pushes into him might persuade him otherwise.
It takes a while, and they’re both sweaty, spent messes when they get there, but they do eventually make it to James’ bed—and Regulus doesn’t leave it all weekend.
— 𖥔 —
“Harry, get in the car.”
“No.”
James pushes his glasses up to rub at his eyes. “Harry James Potter, get in the car.”
“No.”
“Do I need to call your mother?”
“Go ahead. I’d rather talk to her anyway.”
Nine-year-olds are worse than any judge, James thinks. “Why are you acting like this? Didn’t your mother and I just talk to you about behaving?”
Harry glares at him from outside the car. He’s still too short, barely tall enough to see inside the window without standing on his tiptoes. “Yes, but did anyone talk to you about betrayal?”
“What?”
“Betrayal, Dad. Look it up.”
James sputters, his shock turning to a strangled laugh. “Harry, what are you—”
“You stole him from me!”
There are other kids still coming out of the school, and at Harry’s outburst, they turn to look at him in alarm. James’ expression mirrors that of a hundred other nine-year-olds when he blinks at his son. “Stole who?”
“Mr. Black! My English teacher! You stole him from me! I was supposed to marry him and I told Ron all about it because I like him so much and you stole him!”
This was not in the parenting books. Not a single thing in the world could’ve prepared James for this. Harry is bright red, his glare has intensified, and James is at a loss for words. Over Harry’s shoulder, he catches sight of a now familiar head of wild dark curls. Regulus watches the scene unfold with a bemused expression.
It’s been two weeks since he spent an entire weekend at James’ house, and he’s spent many nights at James’ since. Whenever he has the entire house to himself, he also has Regulus. He’s made sure Regulus doesn’t cross paths with Harry. Not yet, anyway. So why…?
Harry is still sputtering. The anger of a nine-year-old is something fierce, James realizes as he dials Lily’s number.
“Hello? James? Is everything alright? Did you pick up—”
“Why is our child yelling that I stole his teacher from him?”
“Because you did!” shouts Harry, banging a fist against the side of the car. “He stole him, Mom! Didn’t even ask! You told me to always ask permission, but he didn’t!”
In the distance, Regulus claps a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. James fights the urge to stick out his tongue and scowl. There are far too many eyes on him now that Harry is making a proper scene.
Lily laughs through the car speakers. “Ah. I forgot to tell you that he heard me and Pandora talking about it the other night. Turns out he has quite the crush on Regulus. You know how kids can be. He just admires him is all. But he’s quite upset about the whole thing. It’s his first heartbreak, so handle it gently.”
Well. This both does and does not explain a damn thing.
“Harry,” James hedges, leaning over the center console, “I really, really am sorry I stole him from you.” He glances over Harry’s head to see Regulus has wandered a bit closer. Within ear shot. “I know I should’ve asked you first, but I really like him, too. A lot, actually. Do you think you could please find it in yourself to forgive me? Just this once?”
“No.”
“Harry.”
Harry lifts his chin defiantly. “Fine. But I’m still his favorite. He told me so today. He even gave me extra stars.”
“That’s okay. I don’t have to be his favorite.”
“Good, because you’re not.” To James’ surprise, Harry yanks open the door and climbs into the backseat. He buckles himself in with a huff. “Can we get ice cream before we go home? I think I need it.”
Just like that. James shakes his head with a soft laugh, but not before he meets Regulus’ gaze. He watches with a warm, amused smile. Mouths, Call me later, and winks when James nods, smiling back.
— 𖥔 —
“For what it’s worth,” Regulus tells him some hours later, “you’re my favorite.”
James looks down at the man draped over him. Their legs are tangled together underneath the sheets, and their skin is still sweat-slicked. “Do I get extra stars?”
“For that performance? Absolutely.”
“So what you’re telling me—” James rolls them over and settles between Regulus’ thighs, “—is I’ll get extra stars each time?”
Regulus scoffs. “You’re full of yourself if you think I’ll give you extra stars every time.”
“But you will, won’t you?” James delights in the surprised yelp Regulus lets out when James maneuvers them, gets Regulus on his stomach. Settles between slender thighs once more, his tongue already trailing over every vertebrae. He sits back on his heels, one finger trailing through the cleft of Regulus’ ass. “This is quite the view, you know. It might even be my favorite, second to your face.”
“Shut up,” Regulus mumbles into the crook of his elbow. The tips of his ears are red. “Are you sure you have the stamina for more?”
“Is that meant to be an age joke?”
“Maybe.”
“Give me a minute. But in the meantime, I know you’ve got more in you. Don’t you, love?” James presses his thumb to Regulus’ rim and laughs when Regulus shudders, his hips pushing back. “Thought so. And just so we’re clear—Are you listening?”
Regulus’ fingers fist in one of James’ pillows. “Yes.”
“Good. Then just so we’re clear—you’re my favorite, too.”
Regulus doesn’t leave James’ bed much during this weekend, either.
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daily-deliciousness · 10 months
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How to make fried potatoes for breakfast
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the-loiterers · 2 years
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myselfany · 2 months
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De pão em pão, tu virou esse leitão 🐷🐷
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ancientsstudies · 1 year
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To share a table with someone is to share everything.
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northbirdblog · 8 months
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Super Seed Granola
Need a morning energy boost? This recipe is for you!
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fallout-lou-begas · 6 months
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i'm getting so fucking tired of these "funny" gender essentialist "men think about x" "women think about y" takes and prompts and memes and trends like come the fuck on it's literally starting to give me gender dysphoria
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nevermeyers · 5 months
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smash, next question
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katebeckets · 2 months
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gif request meme
anonymous asked rizzoli & isles + favorite location ⤷ Maura's House
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lemon-wedges · 10 months
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Breakfast 🍳 
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