#Get flattened milk jesus man

[ur-fav-is-hydraulic-pressed]

I'm new here, but, congrats with cleaning the inbox! ran an ask blog once, and it was very hard to do...

Anyway- can you please, please squish Milk Cookie from Cookie run, he lives rent-free in my head, but, it's time for him to pay up, thank you!

Milk Cookie from The Cookie Run franchise has been Hydraulic pressed!

#Get flattened milk jesus man #your fav #your fave account #your fav is #your fav is hydraulic pressed #ur fav is #ur fave #blorbo #hydraulic press #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #crk #crk milk cookie #cookie run milk cookie #milk cookie #thank you btw op!!

[coleskingdom]

Hips and Thighs

Matt Jackson x female reader

Category Smut

Warnings explicit oral male receiving, p in v

Watching the closed circuit feed from the Bucks private locker room I’m about to start packing to head out. The interview with Kenny, grabs my attention but only briefly as I see Matt, his low slung gear on his hips and thighs, that little peek of the v and just a hint of what lays beneath. “Jesus” I sigh, eyes never leaving the screen. He and I had been together for years, and there were times still that i was still struck by pure lust for that magnificent man.

Matt and Nick walk back into the room, I’m standing with Nicks bag. “ Nick go change in Pages locker room. “ I said Nick looked to his older brother who smirked and shrugged . “Fine, shit Matt, you must really be in trouble if she’s throwing me out." Nick took his bag and walked out of the room. I went to the door to make sure it was locked.

“ Damn, I must be in trouble if your locking the door” Matt said “ You could say that, what was with the lowering of your gear for that interview “ I said “ You noticed, did you” he said. I nodded he leaned in and kissed me deeply. “ Did you see something you liked?” I nodded again this time taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

I kissed him again before settling on my knees in front of him, and removing his shoes and his gear he lifted his hips allowing me easier access to slide down the his pants. I lower my head and kiss his hip bones, and down the trail of fine dark hair and I lower my face and lightly lick the tip. "Fuck," he moans through his teeth.

I glance up and find him laser focused on what I'm about to do. I slowly move down to the underside of his cock with the tip of my tongue and then move up and down the length of his shaft, peppering it with light, gentle kisses before licking the rest. I love the way he tastes, the texture of his skin, it's intoxicating. His breathing grows louder and his hands have moved to my hair, his fingers digging into my scalp. Gently, I flick the tip of my tongue along his frenulum, back and forth, up and down, until I slowly creep my lips over his head and then I back off. “Fuck your killing me princess” And then it's just the sounds of his breathing and moaning. His self-control is the biggest turn on for me, knowing how easily he could take control and fuck my face, but he's given himself over to me, allowing me to play.I repeat the motion, teasing until I can't take it anymore, and then I slide him all the way into my mouth and to the back of my throat. I gag slightly, so I draw back and flatten my tongue.

His dick jumps and throbs in my mouth. "Fuck, yes. Just like that."

I relish in the fact I am bringing him pleasure. Sliding him free from my mouth, I move to his balls, sucking and licking.It's intense the sounds coming from him, and I'm so turned on I can barely think straight.Taking him back into my mouth, I groan around his thick cock. I feel his cock twitch in my mouth, " Princess, I’m going to need you to stop or I’m going to come in that perfect mouth” I nod my head sucking him deeper as he unloads into my mouth and I swallow every drop milking out his release. He removed himself from my mouth and pulled me up on to the couch with him. He kisses me again deeply. “now it’s my turn princess.” he says darkly “ take off your clothes and come here” I get up slowly doing a strip tease for him, he groans as I remove my bra and panties. I straddle his lap as his hand finds my wet center I moan as his fingers went to work teasing my clit, rubbing and pinching as his mouth went to my breasts. “Matt I need more” when he removes his hands. Suddenly I’m covering his dick as he thrusts up into me. "Wrap your legs around me" he instructs, and I do, and I'm so fucking full now as he moves to the edge of the couch.”You want to be the one to fuck me, princess?" “I nod my head as Matt moves his hand between us and artfully stimulates my clit, keeping his eyes focused on me the entire time. The moment is so fucking intimate, it makes my chest ache as I move up and down his length.No one has ever looked at me or worshipped me the way he does. When he moves his hands to my hips and begins to control the thrusts, I lean back and rest my hands on his knees. Undulating my hips, the more he thrusts, the more out of control I feel. I bring my hands to his shoulders and then wrap my arms around his neck, my front flush with his, my clit rubbing up against him in the most torturous way. His head dips as he takes a nipple into his mouth and bites down just enough for it to cause me pain, but in the most delicious way, before doing the same to the other. I try to hold off as long as I can, but it's impossible, I feel my orgasm cresting as my body tenses. My toes coil tight and I start coming around him, all over him.

"Fuck, Matt," I cry out as I try to catch my breath. “ That’s my good girl” as he keeps thrusting up beneath me, his dick swelling impossibly harder, and then he comes with a low guttural moan as my name passes his lips like a sacred prayer.His heart beats against my chest, matching my own, and when I pull back to look at his face, my breath catches all over again, before his lips take mine in a kiss.

“If this is what happens when you throw Nick out of the locker room, I’ll have him permanently moved to Pages” he says and I playfully smack him on the chest. “Let’s go shower, and change before Nick and Page pick the lock to make sure you are okay.” I say. “That’s an idea, but I’m gonna text them both and tell them they’re on their own tonight.” As he slaps my ass as we proceeded to head to the showers.

#matt jackson smut #aew smut

[izupie]

I’ve been writing a Reddie fantasy creature /  AU but I’ve got so far with it and I’m running out of steam, so instead of forcing it and not enjoying it, I’m just going to post what I’ve got so far ! I really enjoyed writing what I did though. One day I hope I’ll finish it and post it on AO3, but I might just stick it in a collection of unfinished stories at some point~

The idea was inspired by a prompt on Instagram and the old wives tale that cats can see ghosts - they say that when cats are looking really intensely at seemingly nothing, they’re really seeing a ghost. So each of the Losers would be a different fantasy creature, with Eddie being a cat that was a witch’s familiar, (but when they leave their witch they’re cursed with a human form to show that they’ve broken their commitment) and Richie’s a ghost that only he can see and touch. (He’s really just Actual Richie caught in the Deadlights, crossing partially over into another universe for a little while, which is why he’s all ghostly, but he has no memory of the world he’s come from, feels like the others are strangely familiar, and he can’t leave Mike’s bar.)

It was really self-indulgent (as all my AUs are) ahaha

--------

Eddie heaved a sigh as he all but fell onto the bar stool. It was a testament to how far he’d walked in the last few days, and how sick he was of camping, that he didn’t even care that the stool creaked noisily at his weight, and that his travelling cloak seemed to stick to the wood as he shuffled to try and make himself more comfortable. (To no success.) (No, his ass wasn’t bony, he was just going to blame it all on the terrible design of flat, hard seats that do nothing for either comfort or alignment of the spine.)

There was a man behind the bar, wiping a metal flagon with a rag, and Eddie desperately tried to not think of the rapid multiplication of bacteria within damp cloth. The bartender had long elven ears, dark skin, and an easy smile that he flashed at Eddie as he made his way over. His expression was open and friendly, and he said, “What can I get for you, traveller?”, in a deep, melodic tone of voice that made Eddie immediately want to offload his whole life story instead of what he wanted to drink. He thankfully managed to keep a lid on his lifetime of trauma and mistreatment and instead replied, “Glass of milk, thanks,” in what he hoped was the confidence of someone used to sitting in bars and ordering drinks and definitely wasn’t travelling alone for the first time in their life.

If he expected a reaction to ordering a glass of milk from a bar, he didn’t receive any, and the bartender just smiled and nodded. “Coming right up,” he said in his honey-smooth voice as he turned away.

Eddie pulled down the hood of his travelling cloak and sighed in relief as his pointed cat ears sprang free from beneath the material. He rummaged within the leather bag around his hip for a small bottle and pulled out the tiny cork with a satisfying pop. There wasn’t much of the potion left, he thought reticently, and the only witch he knew he’d left a long way back from here... But he had to keep his hands clean. Eddie frowned and his tail swished as he poured a few drops of the bright blue liquid onto his hands, then rubbed them vigorously before he stoppered the bottle once more and stowed it away again. The bartender still hadn’t returned yet, and nobody else seemed to be paying him any attention, so he licked his palms and drew them down the velvety soft fur on both of his ears. That felt better.

There were only five other customers that Eddie could see – all playing a game of cards around a large table in the corner of the room. The building wasn’t especially big, so he could hear snippets of their good-natured heckling to each other from his seat, with one voice significantly louder than the others. Eddie placed his elbows on the counter as he tried to get a better look at them – but he felt something wet and cold seep through the thin fabric of his cloak as soon as his elbow touched the surface, and he snatched his arm back with a soft hiss, flattening his ears and nearly losing his balance on the stool. He glared down at the wood, as if it had personally offended him, and then returned his attention to the others.

Only four of the five were sitting at the table with a hand of cards. Nearest to Eddie was a Satyr, judging by the dark brown furred goat legs and the two shining, curved horns on his head. He had neatly trimmed facial hair and wore an openly worried expression (he didn’t seem particularly good at bluffing). Next to him was a man sitting ramrod straight in his chair (good posture, Eddie noted) with sandy brown curly hair, looking shrewdly over his glasses at the rest of the group. Every so often two huge tawny coloured feathery wings would twitch behind him where they were folded in against his back. A woman next to him winked at the Satyr as she said something that Eddie didn’t catch, while her bright red hair flashed like a flame as she tilted her head back and laughed, revealing two long fangs. The only other male at the table gestured for quiet and examined his cards more carefully. He also had two horns on his head, protruding just under his greying hairline, but they were obsidian black, long and thin, and matched the thick scaly tail swishing back and forth across the floorboards while he thought. Eddie blinked in surprise. It was the strangest group he’d ever seen.

The only other person there chattered excitedly behind the Dragon and interrupted Eddie’s observations. He whistled loudly.

“Oh, Big Bill’s got an amazing hand. Nobody fall for his bluffs, he’s lying through his teeth. Guys, c’mon!” The guy gestured violently toward ‘Big Bill’s’ cards and moved around the table, peering closely at the others’ hands. “Stanley. Stanley. Do not let Bill walk out of this place with all this money again. For me.”

Eddie couldn’t believe that this guy was providing such an obnoxiously loud running commentary on the game, and yet nobody was reacting. He moved around the table and practically leant his chin on the Vampire’s shoulder as he loudly read out her hand, but she didn’t even blink. He stood back to his full height (Eddie realised that he was tall) and folded his arms across his chest (tall and broad) and he heaved a huge sigh as he watched the others. (Tall and broad and sad.) Only then did Eddie notice how strange his clothing was – he’d never seen a shirt that shade of bright blue before. And there were small pink birds patterned all over it too. His black hair was messy and unkempt, and he had such strange looking glasses on. Maybe he was from a different Kingdom?

The dragon slammed his hand down with a raucous cheer and Eddie’s attention returned to the game. The others threw their cards onto the table with groans of disappointment.

“I fucking told you all! Jesus. I can’t believe you fell for Bill’s bluffing again. Or maybe you’re all just bad at cards,” the strange man mused, “we all know Benny Boy can’t keep a straight face to save his life…” He continued ranting whilst the others chatted amongst themselves and threw down bags of coins that the dragon scooped towards himself.

“Sorry to keep you.” The bartender’s sudden return shocked Eddie enough to make him jump. His ears flattened against his skull and he willed the fur on his tail to lie flat again before anyone in the room noticed it bushed up. Eddie knew he was scowling, but the bartender just smiled pleasantly and placed a glass of white liquid in front of him. “Fresh milk,” he announced.

Eddie looked down at the milk, back up at the bartender’s smile, and considered the amount of time he’d been gone for. “Fresh… as in… fresh milk?”

“Can’t get any fresher.”

Eddie gagged and pushed the glass away. “Pass.”

The bartender laughed heartily. “I’m kidding. I don’t keep milk in the bar, but my cabin’s not far from here and I grabbed some out of the larder. It’s fresh, but it’s been sterilized, don’t worry.” There was a bright gleam to his eyes that melted away most of Eddie’s irritation, but his tail (no longer looking like he got struck by lightning) still swished a little angrily behind him.

He took a tentative sip, spurred on by thirst and an innate feeling that this elf was trustworthy, and sighed with relief at the cold creamy taste that slid deliciously down his throat. He grabbed a few coins out of his leather bag and placed them on the bar, making sure his fingers didn’t touch any of the mystery liquid that he’d accidentally dipped his elbow in before.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome, traveller. Hey, what’s your name anyway? Mine’s Mike.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes, took another sip of milk, and finally replied, “Eddie.”

“Well met, Eddie. Feel free to stay as long as you want, Maturin only knows I don’t get many visitors.” Mike went to move away but Eddie stopped him with a jerk of his head in the direction of the group in the corner.

“Hey, uh- interesting group over there.”

Mike smiled again, but this time it really tugged at the corners of his eyes. “They’re my favourite group of people in the whole of The Eight Kingdoms,” was all he said, as they rose from the table and made their way over. Which left Eddie just as clueless as before since his poor attempt at prompting hadn’t worked.

Mike laughed as they all took seats at the bar. “Don’t tell me, Bill won again.”

“Of course!” Bill crowed, his scaly black tail lifting into the air behind him. “If anyone can b-bl-bluff their way out of anything, it’s a writer. There was that whole m-m-murder mystery I wrote last year, set around a card game. I’ve been on a winning streak since th-then.”

“Ever humble, Big Bill!” The strangely dressed guy in the glasses laughed. “Yikes, man.”

“That means drinks are on Bill today,” the Vampire said, seemingly ignoring that comment, as she tapped the bar beside Eddie excitedly. “You want another, stranger? Bill’s paying with our hard-earned coin that he swindled from us.” She grinned and her fangs glinted in the candlelight.

“Uh…” Eddie started, unsure about the sudden acknowledgement of his presence.

“Sorry,” the Satyr said gently, in a pleasantly raspy kind of voice, “we get like this when we’re together.”

“Or some of us do anyway,” the man with the feathery wings added. The soft sound of rustling feathers followed his every movement as he took off his gold framed glasses. With his glasses off it made him look younger somehow, though his bird-like eyes were still piercing as he regarded Eddie with a slightly tilted head like a bird.

“I’m Ben,” the Satyr went on.

“-Sweet, sensitive Benny-Boy,” the glasses guy sighed.

“That’s Stan…”

“-My man, Stan the Man. Even if he could hear my jokes, he still wouldn’t laugh at them-”

“This is Bev…”

“-Nobody has the right to be this hot and not have a pulse-”

“And Bill.”

“-Good at everything in that kinda way that makes everyone want to follow everything he says, but also in the kinda way that makes me want to punch him in the face just a little bit.”

Eddie snorted an unexpected laugh and quickly tried to pass it off as a cough.

“Sorry- my name’s Eddie.”

At the chorus of ‘nice to meet you’s and ‘well met’s from the group Eddie was vaguely aware that the other man hadn’t been introduced at all, and that still nobody had reacted to any of his comments. Eddie couldn’t stop his eyes from glancing over, but he was already looking back, so their gazes locked for a second. Warmth sprang to his cheeks at the realisation he’d been caught. He pretended to cough again as he pointedly kept his eyes away, squirming in his seat with his embarrassment, and tried not to think about the confused expression he’d seen on the other man’s face as their eyes had met.

He focused on the realisation that none of them had drawn any attention to his cat ears. Although he’d already started figuring out that most of what Myra told him had been lies, it still stung to have it confirmed almost daily by every new experience. It was a sad, twisted truth that his own witch had been deliberately lying to him his whole life about everything.

He took another sip of milk and placed the glass back on the bar as he couldn’t help but let his attention wander back to the man from before, while the others all chattered and ordered drinks off Mike. His magnified dark eyes were opened wide behind his glasses as their gazes met again. Hadn’t he looked away at all? What was he staring at? His ears? Eddie’s tail twitched in a show of his irritation, wondering if he should take back everything he’d just been thinking. What was this guy’s deal? Well, if he was going to stare, so was he. Eddie defiantly lifted his chin and looked straight at him, willing him to make a comment. But the guy glanced around, as if checking there was nobody else around him that Eddie could be looking at. His eyes were still opened wide and his breathing sped up as he raised a slow and shaky hand to point to himself, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘…me?’. Eddie’s ears twitched and his own eyebrows pulled together sharply, as if to reply, ‘uh, yeah, who else?’.

“You can…” the guy started, then swallowed loudly and took a deep breath. “You can see me?”

Eddie felt something cold settle low in his gut, understanding beginning to finally dawn on him. “No,” he snapped.

“Holy fuck! You can see me!”

“No!” Eddie yelled loudly, jumping off the stool and hissing. “No, I can’t!”

“Yes you can! Yes you can! Holy shit! Fuck!”

“Eddie?” Mike asked gently. “Are you okay?”

The others looked at him warily, while Richie moved closer – seemingly caught somewhere between awe and relief.

“No- Yes! - I mean…”

Bill held his palms up as if calming a wild animal. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotta be kidding me that this is the one thing she didn’t lie about… how was I supposed to know… never thought I’d meet…”

“My name’s Richie!” the guy nearly yelled, excitement bursting out of his voice. “Richie Tozier. Hey look, you’ve gotta help me. This is insane,” he laughed wetly, and Eddie realised he was crying. “I can’t believe you can see me. I’ve waited so long to have somebody fucking, just, reply to me, man.”

(Can ghosts cry? Apparently so.)

“Eddie?” Mike repeated, as unaware as the others at the second half of the conversation that was going on.

The mood of the room had completely changed; the others were looking at him like Myra had always told him they would. A hot spike of shame ran through him and Eddie hissed softly at them, his ears lying flat. “I’m not bad luck.”

Bev shook her head, her expression sad. “Nobody said you are, honey, just calm down and tell us what’s going on.”

“You can see him, can’t you?” Stan spoke softly, but it cut through the chaos.

“Stan?! What the fuck, you can see me too?” Richie whirled on him and pointed an accusatory finger.

“You can see him too?” Eddie echoed.

“No. But I had my suspicions. Just, a voice I could hear sometimes. A glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eyes.” Stan ruffled his wings and folded his arms. “I figured this bar was haunted.”

“And you never said anything?” Richie wiped at his face. “I’ve been going crazy talking to everyone with absolutely nothing back this whole time and you knew I was here?”

“Wait, haunted? There’s someone else in the room?” Ben looked alarmed.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Mike looked between Eddie and Stan.

Eddie sighed and resisted the urge to massage his temples. “Cats can see ghosts,” he explained in a strained voice.

“Eddie here just became my new best friend, that’s what’s going on.” Richie sidled up to Eddie’s side so swiftly he didn’t have time to react before he had slung an arm over his shoulder.

Eddie hissed and ducked away but Richie was beaming. “You can feel me too?! Get back here! Hug me!”

“Not if you were the only ghost in the whole of the Eight Kingdoms!”

“So, there is a ghost?” Bill prompted.

“Can’t believe my bar’s haunted,” Mike mumbled.

#Reddie #Reddie Fanfiction #eddie x richie #IT fanfiction #my fanfiction #idk guys I really go off on a writing tangent sometimes #like what is this #IT stuff #but I had fun so that's the most important thing #right??? lmao

[artistrashofmine]

Here I go again with some smut, fun times.  Pairing: Yoarashi Inasa/Bakugou Katsuki Rating: Explicit W/C: 3890 AO3 Link: Have Your Way With Me “Hey, Bakugou!” The blond looked up from his isolated spot in the corner of the changing room. There was a reason he always came in here dead last, and remained in the corner far from the rest of the group, on the other side of the damn room. There was plenty of room in here too, after all, it was only the three of them changing. Him, Todoroki, and the new pain in the ass that was Shiketsu’s puppy, Wind-Bitch. Now, at least IcyHot knew how to mind his own business, knew when he wasn’t wanted, despite his oblivious personality. Besides, he was always quick to get changed anyway, meaning that there wasn’t much time for locker room banter or whatever the hell people were calling it. Then there was this guy. This guy, who didn’t seem to get the memo. To be fair, he didn’t go to U.A., he was just some extra who had failed the licensing exam and now the blond was stuck here with him. He had no reason to know of Katsuki’s preference to be alone, but it wasn’t that damn hard to figure out. By the first day, he should have known, yet the man was like an overgrown puppy; stupid, having to repeat his actions over and over and over again with no achievable goal in mind.

“What now?” The blond had said it in the most displeasing, unwelcoming way he could muster, throwing his costume top down onto the bench and replacing it with a tank top. “Well, I was wondering, what are you doing after this? Any plans?”Was this guy seriously attempting to hang out with him? How did Katsuki keep attracting these kinds of people? First Shitty-Hair, now this guy? He didn’t even remember the extra's name for fuck sake. “None of your business.” He shut down, hoping the other would leave it be. “You always wait for everyone to leave, do you go somewhere after training? He didn’t take the hint, and the whole reason the hothead let everyone else leave first was so he didn’t have to put up with them on the way out, or Todoroki on the way back.  Apparently that was coming back to bite him in the ass with the form of an annoying Shiketsu bitch, because why wouldn’t it? Instead of ignoring a few minutes of brain-numbing conversation, he had to put up with shitty, one-sided, conversation drawn out in the locker room as he waited for the other to give up and fuck off. Which was worse?

“I take your silence as confirmation that you have nowhere you need to be!” Did he now? Did he really? Jesus. “Fuck off.” Was the blond’s only response, his heavy boots, as well as his socks, being placed to the side just as his top had been, and he went to undo his belt. “Well, I was wondering,” what part of Katsuki’s words did he not understand, “if you wanted to grab a bite to eat together! What gave him the idea that the blond would want anything like that? What gave him the fucking gull to ask? If Katsuki was any less of, well, himself, he’d consider humouring the pitiful soul. But no, nothing was worth willingly hanging out with someone, well, almost nothing. See, sparing was fine, it was helpful for the most part, depending on the partner, but they just spent the last hour sparing. He usually went out for a light jog after class anyway, and he sure as hell didn’t need anyone joining him for it. “You’re joking, right? Fuck off.” He repeated his previous reply, turning only to startle, coming face to... chest with the overgrown puppy, and damn was he noticing the overgrown part. “It was worth a try, maybe another day?” He didn’t give up, seemingly unaware of the intrusion of personal space. “What the fuck was your name again?” He couldn’t help but ask, curiosity getting to him, despite his attempts not to fucking care. You see, there were very few things he’d willingly do with another person, he avoided the common room for that reason. Much of it was a waste of time and didn’t help him at all in the long run. Still, the blond had his own hobbies, most of them didn’t involve another person, but they could. With a face full of bare skin and his brain finally fucking catching up to the social cues he was apparently oblivious to up until now, Katsuki realized there just might be a use for having this guy hanging around. “Yoarashi Inasa!” He answered, unbothered to the blond’s ignorance, and outright admission to not bothering to remember his fucking name. “Right,” the blond lifted a hand to place on his chest, the dark eyes that looked down at him hardened like steel. <p>Why the hell did he only notice how much taller this guy was now? No, not just taller, bigger, he was like a fucking wall. And it fucking annoyed the blond to no end, yet he couldn’t help but let his mind wander... Katsuki bit his lip, his fingers parting, reaching across as much of the skin as he could manage. “I can’t read your mind Bakugou, but you look like you want something?” Damn, maybe he did.> See, there’s one hobby he likes to do in the privacy of his room, alone, with the help of some toys he kept clean in a box under his bed, and they weren’t small. He didn't like any of that small shit, the bigger the better. And the airhead was big. He wondered if everything was proportional. He hoped it was. He found himself hoping he’d be able to find out. Despite the other’s question, it looked like he knew exactly what was going through Katsuki’s mind; as if I’d want anything from you. He felt his way down the bare skin, muscles hard against his hand. It's not like he's done something like this before, and it was better if he didn't, but Katsuki thought he deserved to indulge for a bit. He wondered, what happened to trying to get this guy off his ass? Now he fucking wanted him there. “Your eyes speak otherwise.” The deep voice sent a chill down the pale blond’s spine. He let his hand fall from the body bringing his traitorous red eyes back up to the annoying face, clicking his tongue. He was about to take a step back when the taller one grabbed the falling hand. Katsuki thought his own hands were freakishly big, after all, that's where his quirk came from, they felt like leather and was always large compared to his other classmates, but Inasa's dominated his, fitting the fucking appendage in the palm of his hand. A foreign noise escaped the blond as he held it up to his mouth and kissed the knuckle, “sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you had to stop.” What was with this guy? If Katsuki stopped it wasn't just because he'd think someone might want him to. A flush crept up his neck, another unusual experience, the blond hardly blushed, it wasn't that easy to get him embarrassed, but this guy was embarrassing as hell. He flattened Katsuk's hand against his chest just as the blond had it seconds ago, “you can touch me as much as you want.” <p>He was straightforward, Katsuki liked to think they were similar in that way, only he was so much more embarrassing. Still, it went straight to the blond';s cock. Once again, his hands were on the move, mapping out the other's body, a mind of their own, taking the other's invitation for what it was. Katsuki swallowed, having to correct his line of sight once again, only it turns out, looking the larger one in the eyes made things much worse. The dark, blown pupils and intense look had him blushing like a schoolgirl. Looking down at him with hunger, with intent, with knowing. Knowing that the blond was feeling the exact same way, knowing that Katsuki was all his for the time being. "How can someone be so small yet possess so much character?" he pondered, maybe they weren't on exactly the same wavelength. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" His voice came out more bothered than he intended. “It means I like you Bakugou!" And the large hands were on his hips, the calloused thumbs brushing at the pale skin just above his pants, under his shirt, "is it okay that I touch you?" Another choked noise, "don’t just touch me only to ask if you could or not! And I don’t care, do whatever the hell you want!” “Oh,” he sounded disappointed, "that's okay, I'll take that as a challenge to make you care then.”

The hands slide up the smooth skin causing the blond to let out a small gasp. They slowed to clench his middle, the top rising with them. They groped in there as if ready to lift him. For a second Katsuki hoped he would, but they only continued to feel his body, along his abdomen, the small of his back, moving up and around until they reached his pecs. Katsuki clenched his jaw, staring the other straight in the eyes with lidded ones of his own, daring him to make the bold move. The soft muscle was grasped, squeezed in the wind-users hands, and was treated like putty. The UA student’s jaw unclenched, falling open as the pair of hands went to work kneading the flesh. And a second later Katsuk's shirt was being pulled off his body, his clearly hardened nipples on display, only worsening as they were exposed to the cool air, perking up obscenely. The hand was back to fondling his breasts, this time flicking the hardened buds, rolling one between his fingers before doing the same to the other. It was as if Inasa were trying to squeeze milk out of them, they were swollen bigger than Katsuki's ever had them and sensitive as hell, the blond knew he had started making some noise already, small groans but still embarrassing as all hell. What was he supposed to do about it though? This felt so fucking good.

“I’m going to lift you, okay?" And yes, that's what he's been waiting for, the hands returning to his small waist, giving it another squeeze, Inasa's fingers practically meeting at the blond's navel.

“Yeah-” at the confirmation he was quickly lifted into the air, weighing seemingly nothing “fuck,”

Katsuk’s legs quickly found their place, wrapping around the other's tree trunk of a body. One of Inasa's hands came to hold him up by his ass, the other resting on the small of his back, guiding Katsuki to lean back into his grip.

His head then dipped down, coming to take one of the swollen tits into his mouth. Katsuki jerked as the wet cavern engulfed his pec causing his cock to grind against Inasa's pants. That didn't deter the other as he continued to lap at the abused nipples, allowing Katsuki to hump him like a dog would hump a leg. And Katsuki had no qualms about grinding against the other's navel, selfishly seeking his own pleasure, a hand coming to finish unlatching his belt, the accessory falling to the floor with a clash. Though the blond paid no mind to it, it could have fallen into a pool of lava for all the fucks he could give. His hands come up to dig into the broad shoulders as his partner's mouth rises to suck bruises into his neck, drawing a gasp out from the blond's lips. It was quickly silenced though as the other's mouth met his mark, fitting against Katsuki's own, hungrily forcing his lips open to push his tongue into the hothead’s wet cavern. The larger appendage quickly mapping out his mouth. And just like that, he parted. Lifting his head, Inasa voices his intention, "I'll make sure to have you begging Katsuki." Bakugou fucking moans at the suggestion. With a breathy voice, and the heated gaze he replies, "you fucking better.” Gone is the annoying puppy from early, seeing him now, Katsuki's previous descriptions didn’t compare. His eyes ravaged the blond, he wasn’t going to go soft, expecting the blond to keep himself up as any supporting hands were removed from his body, leaving the teen hanging to Inasa with legs tightly clamped around his center, arms holding on for his dear life. The other's own hands finding their way to the waistband of the blond's costume. He looked like a beast as he tore the garment off Katsuki's body as if it were nothing but a mere tissue.

The thing is, those pants were built to withstand danger, to stay in one piece, whether it be explosions, blades, fucking acid, they weren’t fucking easy to tear. Yet he did it in one go, muscles bulging as the fabric ripped, draping off the blond's body, revealing his tight boxers that were dampening by the second. It was fucking hot, it had Katsuki's cock harder than ever before, begging for some relief. “You have an amazing body Bakugou.” The brown eyes looked him over, every small detail, running his fingers up and down the revealed skin, pushing the boxers up to gain more and more. <p>His other hand sneaking back under the blond's ass to ravish the newly shown skin there. The large appendage holding the round of his butt, squeezing it as if he's been waiting to do so for weeks. Katsuki grunted at the action, shifting as if to find the most comfortable position he possibly could, whether that was away from the hands that felt him up or closer, he didn’t know. "Yeah I do, you better fucking appreciate- shit.” He didn’t get to finish his reply, Inasa dipping his body down to sit on the cold bench he was previously using, Katsuki's boxers were off his body before he could process it happening, the taller man pulling his legs out so that his bottom slid partially off the bench.

“Hold this for me?" The Shiketsu hat was placed upon Katsuki’s spiky hair, and Inasa was down on his knees, "I’ll make sure to appreciate you, Bakugou.”

"Gah- what the, hah, hell do you think you’re... hunnh.” The blond trailed off, throwing his head back as his hardened member was engulfed in the hot, wet mouth of his partner, the wind-user taking him down to the hilt as if it were nothing. "Oh fuck!' His tongue flattening against the underside of the blond's weeping cock as he sucked, moving his mouth up and down. Katsuki's own hand came to rest at the back of his head, the short hairs brushing against his skin. The muscles in his leg tensed as the other took his time, slowly mapping out Katsuki's most private parts with his tongue, filing them to memory. Breathy moans filling the empty space of the locker room, bouncing off the wall. Only, it was when the other removed his mouth from his erection, lowering it and spreading his legs farther, that Katsuki’s moans picked up, got louder. The brunet’s tongue lapped against the first year’s entrance, hands coming to part the globs of fat that shielded it, Teeth nipping at the tight ring of muscle, saliva making a mess of it, running down into his crack. <p>He glared at the other with heated, red eyes, mouth agape, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. A traitorous mewl escaping at the other’s tongue dipped into Katsuki’s entrance, both loosening and wetting his hole, stretching him open. It was a new feeling, a fucking amazing feeling that had Katsuki squirming, had his body quivering for more, relishing in the attention. This was much better than his fucking toys under the shitty dorm's bed. Having someone else please him. Having his hands free, free to roam the other’s body, his own body if he wanted. With that in mind, his hand came up to squeeze his pec, play with his own tits. Inasa didn't miss it, eyes gleaming as they focused on the blond's hands, thumbs brushing over his hardened nipples, before rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. Inasa began nipping at his hole again, hands squeezing his ass cheeks as he did, eyes hungrily gazing at Katsuki, who's own couldn't help but roll back, unrecognizable pleads and groans falling from his lips. “That's right Katsuki, all mine." The other purred. Ah, that's what he's been whining about? Was Katsuki so out of it he couldn't fucking recognize his own speech? Whatever it didn't matter, Inasa was taking care of him, he was Inasa's. “Fucking use me.” He confirmed with as much force as he could muster. The brunet’s tongue was gone in an instant, Katsuki's eyes snapping open, a disappointed groan leaving him. He was ready to complain when he felt the pads of the other's fingers at his opening instead. The blond's body betrayed him as it pushed closer, looking for more, recognizing the teasing of a finger that rubbed at the rim, urging him to relax. A substance left in its wake, lube? It felt different as his large finger sunk in, not like the lube Katsuki was used to. Or maybe it was the feeling of another man’s fingers that made this different. “I wasn’t expecting for this to happen, I made do with what I have,” he explained, holding up a bottle of aloe vera. "Why the hell-?” His answer came a second later, causing an embarrassed flush to materialize across his fair skin, “you’re an intense character with an equally as intense quirk! If I was risking getting burned, I wanted to be prepared. Beside, Todoroki also has a heat-related quirk.” “Don’t talk about damn half-and-half with a finger in my ass.” He deflected. "Should I add another then?” The blond moaned as the second digit was pushed in beside the first despite his lack of reply, "you stretch really well, Katsuki. I wonder how you'll look around my cock. " Goddamn, Katsuki liked the thought of that. Fuck, so did his dick with the way it pulsed, precum gathering below his navel. "I could put the third one in already,” he observed, scissoring the pair already in there, "your body's amazing! It's perfect." Katsuki shamelessly soaked in the praise, his hole twitching around the thick fingers that penetrated him. That seemed to push deeper and deeper into him, curling and stretching his walls. "Uhh!" Pressing against that spot that had the first year seeing stars, eyes rolling back and mouth dropping open, "yes- Inasa!" He grinds the digits into Katsuk's prostate before adding a third, the blond’s greedy hole easily sucking it all in, clinging to the digits as they'd retreat, his leg kicking out as they rammed into his prostate. He didn't need much more stretching from there, or so the other concluded as he pulled the fingers out, Katsuki's hole blinking at the loss, in an attempt to tighten back up. Inasa pecked the blond's lips a few more times before straightening up. Removing his remaining clothing, revealing his cock. The blond was far from disappointed. It was a fucking monster, hard with precum beading at the tip, balls hung heavy, swollen, at the base. Katsuki could't help but shudder at the thought of having that thing inside him, taking the member down to the base, rearranging his guts. Before he knew it, Inasa was rubbing the thing against his hole, the blunt head catching on his rim. The hothead practically thrust towards it, his smaller body begging to be used, to be plugged up good. </p> “Ready baby?" The lustful, brown eyes stared expectantly. Who was the blond to disappoint, "born ready, give it to me fucker!" And he did. He fucking did. The member sank into the blond’'s pliant body as if it were a fleshlight. Prompting the bigger one to ask, "have you done this before, Katsuki?” "Uhh- god no-" his voice hitched as the other went deeper, deeper then any toy Katsuki owned, “so fucking good." Inasa groaned in return,"I’m your first then? I'm going to ruin you for anyone else Kat.” The blond’s rim clenched around the cock inside him as if agreeing with the bigger one's words. And fuck, Inasa continued to enter Katsuki, so much of him, and the blond briefly wondered how the hell his body could take it all? He wondered if he could feel Inasa's cock if he were to press down on his middle if he could feel it through his skin. Katsuki felt so full, and god, it pressed against his prostate perfectly. “Are you ready? I’m going to start moving now, kay?" The blond nodded as best he could.

"Yes, yes- fucking fuck me already!" The blond demanded, throwing a ferocious grin back at the other. The brunet pulled out his cock, the head pulling on the rim, before grabbing ahold of Katsuki’s hips and pounding back into him, forcing the air out of the blond's lungs in a gasp as his length hit against the bundle of nerves. And Inasa didn't go easy, he gave it to Katsuki just how the first year liked; deep, hard, and fast. The blond’s mouth falling open, moans and drool making its escape. Leaving the locker room filled with the sinful sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and lustful whines. "Ah! Ah! Come on, come o- Ah, ah.” "Are you close, Kat?" The low voice whispered in his ear, nipping at the lobe, as he grinds deep into the hot-head. “Yeah- hell yeah," One of his hands set an explosion off against the bench he was clenching for his life, "shit!" He was so fucking sweaty. It was so fucking hot in here. His moans echoed through the room, was the door even locked? He didn't care, couldn't find a reason to. Not with the dick that positioned in and out of him, hitting the bundle of nerves each and every time. One of Inasa's hands reached up to grope his pec, squeezing it, "good, cum while being fucked on my cock Katsuki." <p>The other wrapped around his center, so fucking big compared to his small waist. He was so fucking big compared to the blond. Everything- so fucking good. "Ahhh, yes yes yes, INASA!" He came crying out the other's name, his body twitching, his hole spasming around the member inside him, his smaller cock pulsing cum across his stomach. His eyes rolled back as the other came to a stop, painting Katsuki's insides with his warm seed, coming deep in him. He pulled up, adjusting the blond and himself into a more comfortable position. Katsuki groaned as he clenched around nothing, his hole left gaping. And he swore he could already feel the cum slowly leaking out of him. “I-” his voice sounded like shit, likely from the yelling, "-I need a fucking shower.” "Me as well," He sounded winded - no pun intended -"...do you want help up?” The blond cursed his still shaky body, “just give me a damn minute.” Katsuki considered his next sentence, "... Dinner better be good, I want something spicy." "Right" Inasa grinned, "it’s a date.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #fanfic #inasa yoarashi #bakugou katsuki #inasa x bakugou #inabaku #Smut

[not-close-to-straight]

Push-Ups (Stony)

Idk guys... I had a thought, I wrote a thing and I can fully admit this is ridiculous. Also it’s gets the tiniest bit nekkid near the end. 

THERE’S MORE STONY ON MY MASTERLIST!

***********************

It started out as a joke. 

“I can definitely do more push ups than Steve.” Sam said casually-- oh so casually-- over cereal one morning. “His muscles just look pretty, there isn’t any real strength there.” 

“You can definitely do more push ups than Steve.” Bucky casually-- just so fucking casually-- agreed, studiously ignoring the way Steve was coughing milk out his nose and swearing about how badly Trix tasted coming up the wrong way. “Your shoulders can carry the weight of the world, Steve’s are only there to balance out them ridiculous tiddies.” 

“Oh Sam can 100%, no questions asked, without even breaking a sweat, do more push ups than Steve.” Clint had to raise his voice over the ruckus Steve was making in the background. “Sams arms are like ebony pillars, Steve’s look like the supple limbs of an Irish milk maid who spends the afternoons staring at her reflection in ye olde river in the back of ye olde pasture.” 

“I can definitely do more push ups than Steve.” Sam decided. 

It started out as a joke. 

Then Steve yelled, “SQUARE UP MOTHERFUCKER!” 

And in between shouts of “Language Cap!” and Bucky congratulating Clint on a truly terrible comparison between Steve and ye olde Irish maiden and Natasha walking into the kitchen, surveying the scene and deciding she didn’t have the patience before walking back out--

--Suddenly it wasn’t a joke.

*****************

“Here’s how we’ll do it.” Clint drew up a graph in the living room later that day. “A week straight, two sets of push ups, morning and night. In a test of sheer endurance, the All American Energizer bunny over there can go for days. So we break it up, make it fair. Whoever can do the most amount of push ups in the time allotted for five days straight wins the contest. Captain America vs. Not Captain America.”

“Lets go.” Steve said immediately. “Right now Sam, throw down.” 

“Okay first of all?” Sam’s look was nothing less than highly judgmental. “I dunno what Tony has been doing to you that makes you think you gotta prove your manhood so quickly--” Steve squawked in horror and Bucky fell off the back end of the couch laughing. “-- but calm the fuck down. Second of all, Clint’s very pretty chart--”

“-- it is pretty, isn’t it?” 

“--it’s very pretty. Clint’s very pretty chart clearly says we aren’t starting till tomorrow. So take ten to twenty percent off the top there, get some sleep, maybe talk to your boyfriend about your insecurities, and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Hey!” Steve pointed a finger in Sam’s direction. “I do not have insecurities.” 

“Sure you don’t big guy.” Clint patted him on the shoulder. “Lots of men with no insecurities run around carrying big honkin’ shield and driving big flashy vehicles and wearing flashy uniforms. By the way you’ll notice I wear muted colors and drive a plain vehicle? There’s a reason for that.” 

“Oh yeah?” Steve retorted. “No insecurities? Which is why your mouth never stops running and every time you grab your bow you stroke it a few times and compliment it on being so big?” 

“I-- um-- well--” Clint gaped at him. “I mean---” 

“That’s what I thought.” Steve stomped past, calling back, “Tomorrow morning, Sam! Get ready to get your ass handed to you!” 

Bucky, Sam and Clint stood in silence in the living room looking down at the chart for a few minutes before Clint said, “I-- I only talk to my bow sometimes. You gotta take care of the things that take care of you, right? And I mean, it’s a big bow. Seems right I should compliment that, right?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky scratched at his head. “Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkward bro.” 

********************

Day one, and Steve hit the gym mat like a maniac, blowing through nearly three hundred pushups in five minutes, then doing it again that night. 

Sam took it slower, clocking in at a not-unimpressive hundred pushups in five minutes, then just about eight that night. 

Day two and Steve did it again, with JARVIS recording to make sure he was doing every single one of the three hundred he bragged about. Sam’s were recorded too but he was still humming about at an entirely leisurely pace with his work out. 

Day three was the same, as was day four, and when day five broke Steve was laughing in Sam’s face over breakfast. “I am up to twenty five hundred push ups, Wing boy.” he said triumphantly. “Twenty five hundred. How are you feeling putzing around at seven hundred and twenty three?” 

“Feeling just fine, Cap.” Sam said easily, calmly, suspiciously calmly but Steve was too busy boo-ing him to notice. “You know what they say, slow and steady wins the race. I bet you won’t even get twenty five done today.” 

“No one has ever called Captain America slow and steady about anything.” Steve declared and Bucky didn’t skip a beat answering, “Which is why Tony’s been calling you the minute man, huh?” 

“I-- He--” Steve’s jaw dropped. “I’m not-- I’m not a minute man! Tony is always satisfied with my-- how would you even--” 

“Yikes.” Sam whistled low. “That is some tough stuff right there, Cap. Tough stuff indeed.” 

“Tony calls me a minute man because I’m always up and ready to answer the call!” Steve shouted. “Not because I’m up and done in sixty seconds!” 

Sam cackled his way out of the kitchen and down to the gym with Sam in tow. Clint slurped loudly at his milk and raised an eyebrow at Steve. “Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkward bro.” 

“Damnit.” Steve scowled. “I wish I wasn’t so fuckin’ awkward either.”

*****************

“Hey baby.” Tony peeked his head in the gym nearly an hour later, just as Steve was getting ready to start his round of push ups. “You got a minute?” 

“For you?” Steve gathered Tony close, smooshing a kiss onto his lips. “Sweetheart, I have hours. How are you?” 

“Been missing you a little bit.” Tony admitted, cuddling tighter against him. “And I got done with my project early so I thought maybe we could....?” his hands strayed lower than was strictly necessary on Steve’s butt. “Hm?” 

“I would love that.” Steve said honestly, and maybe a little ferociously, still stung from the guys’ minute man comment this morning. “But I’ve got to finish these push ups real quick first. Five minutes then I’ll take you up stairs.” 

“Can I stay and watch?” Tony wanted to know, all big brown eyes and soft hair wearing nothing but leggings he’d stolen from Natasha and a hoodie that was obviously Bruce’s and oh god he was beautiful and perfect and Steve couldn’t have said no if he even wanted to. 

“I won’t get in the way.” Tony promised and stepped back a little bit so Steve could start. “Jesus Christ babe, I love the way your shoulders look when you do that.” 

“Yeah?” Steve slowed down a little, emphasizing the pull of his muscles beneath the tight shirt. “You like that?” 

“So sexy.” Tony reached out to touch, flattening his palm between Steve’s shoulder blades. “You are ridiculously sexy.” 

“So are you.” Steve paused to give Tony a lop sided, love sick smile. “I’m so lucky to have you.” 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Tony returned and when Steve straightened his arms, Tony took the chance to wiggle onto the floor and right beneath him, smiling up at him impishly. 

“Babe, I can’t do push ups with you beneath me.” Steve said patiently. “I need four more minutes, come on.” 

“Sure you can.” Tony wiggled a little, spread his legs and bent his knees so they hugged Steve’s waist. “I’m not in the way, you still can get down all the way, it’s fine. JARVIS, can Steve still complete a full push up with me in the way?” 

“Yes sit.” JARVIS intoned. “Each motion would still be considered a full, legal push up based on the parameters set by Hawkeye.” 

“See, babe?” Tony’s grin was nearly devilish. “Still legal. Come on. I’ll even help you count.” 

“Tony.” Steve sighed but lowered his body anyway, eyes widening in surprise when Tony only moaned as they lined up, knees spread just enough to let Steve settle in the vee of his thighs for a few seconds. 

Oh my. 

“Tony--” 

“One.” Tony said smugly. “Got another in you, Spangles?” 

“Two.” Steve retorted and this time he pressed a little tighter when he came down. “Am I squishing you?” 

“Not even a little bit.” Tony’s breath caught on three and on four he lifted his hips to meet Steve halfway, rubbing against him languidly until Steve’s eyes darkened in interest. “Mmmm, five.”

“Six.” 

“Seven.” Tony slid his fingers into Steve’s hair and captured in a slow, heated kiss. “Keep going, babe.” 

“Eight.” Steve sighed over another kiss, sucking at Tony’s tongue and dragging his teeth over a full bottom lip.

“Nine.” Tony hooked his ankle around Steve’s calf and yanked down on the next one, keeping them pinned together for a few seconds. 

“Ten.” A groan when Steve felt how hard Tony was, the thin leggings doing absolutely nothing to disguise anything. “Tony.” 

“There’s my minute man.” Tony said smugly on eleven when he closed his hand around Steve’s cock, stroking him through the work out shorts. “Have I ever told you how much I love how ready you always are? Makes me feel good knowing I turn you on so fast.” 

“I knew that was why you called me minute man.” Steve huffed and kissed Tony’s look of confusion away. 

Twelve was less of a push up and more of a slow grind, and thirteen was a one handed push up, Steve’s other hand firmly down the back of Tony’s thotty leggings and squeezing greedily at the world’s best ass. 

Fourteen had Tony shoving Steve’s shorts down his legs and they both cursed at fifteen when their cocks slid together and sixteen had Tony proudly pulling a half used bottle of lube from Bruce’s his hoodie because he had definitely completely planned to get his boy friend nekkid in the gym. 

Seventeen was the worlds longest push up, as Steve stayed draped over Tony’s body for a good few minutes, gasping and panting as Tony stroked them together and eighteen wasn’t so much a push up as it was a thrust and no one would have called the next several dozen movements legal push ups at all, so they stopped keeping count. 

 And Steve definitely didn’t get in his usual three hundred push ups, but Tony was giggling and soft and satisfied and Steve didn’t care about the push up contest anymore. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t won anyway, he could definitely enjoy Tony in his arms for a few more minutes. 

*********************

“The fuck do you mean I didn’t win!” Steve exploded. “I did two thousand, five hundred and eighteen push ups--” 

“--probably just two thousand, five hundred and seventeen if we’re being honest.” Tony cut in and Steve kissed him thoroughly before amending--

“--alright. Two thousand, five hundred and seventeen push ups. And there is no way Sam did more than that.” He maintained. “No fucking way.” 

“Okay, as you’ll see on my very pretty chart--” Clint pointed to his graph. “Cap, you did an impressive amount of push ups. And if you’d done your usual three hundred this morning and this afternoon, you probably would have won.” 

“Sam barely made eight hundred push ups.” Steve denied. “No way he beat me. He would have had to do two thousand push ups to beat me.” 

“Okay, but the contest was between Captain America and non Captain America.” Clint explained patiently. “And since technically anyone is non Captain America---” 

“I did two thousand push ups while you and Tony were busy in the bedroom doing that thing that makes you squeal like a stuck pig.” Bucky confirmed, then flexed his left arm. “Cyborgs for the win.” 

“I-- you-- what!?” Steve’s jaw about hit the floor. “Are you KIDDING ME! WHAT IN THE FUCK!” 

Then he swiveled around to stare at Tony, narrowing his eyes and scowling in only the way Captain America could. “Tony? Did they ask you to distract me today so they could win?” 

“Okay in my defense.” Tony held up both hands and Sam snorted a laugh. “In my defense, we’ve never actually fooled around in the gym, which is frankly ridiculous because you know seeing you sweaty gets me all randy. And I’ve asked and you’ve always told me now and-- and I just couldn’t pass up the chance to do it this time. If you’d told me yes before, this never would have happened. So if you really think about it, all of this is your fault.” 

“MY FAULT!” 

“Furthermore, I’d like to add that Bucky has very graciously allowed his name to be written as S-A-M for the purposes of this contest.” Sam butted in. “So if you look at Clint’s delightful chart, you will see that I, Sam, did in fact do more push ups than Captain America. Case closed, bet won, game set match, points to the Falcon.” 

“Which is only fair.” Clint added. “Seeing as how his arms are literal canons of goodness.” 

“Can confirm.” Bucky agreed. “Who wants to go for a run?” 

“Yeah, start running.” Steve had death in his eyes and Clint eeped and started backpedaling. “Because when I catch you --” 

All four were off like a shot, Sam screeching at the top of his lungs and Bucky dragging Clint along by his collar while Steve pounded after them. 

“Coast clear?” Natasha asked and Tony laughed at her. “I can’t believe you coerced Steve into gym sex just so Sam could win a bet.” 

“What do you mean you can’t believe it?” Tony rooted around in the freezer and pulled out a tub of his favorite ice cream, cracking the lid and handing Natasha spoon. “It was your idea.” 

“Hm.” Natasha took a big spoonful of the dessert. “I plead the fifth.”

*********************

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#ncts fics #stony #steve rogers #tony starks #clint barton #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #fluff #funny

[penaltybox14]

For @dying-redshirt-noises cupped-face prompt. 

When Bob was a kid, a real kid, just a little kid with a brush haircut and milk-tooth molars, his mom would open up the windows on summer nights just to let their apartment breathe, and he could hear the sirens down below.  He could lie in bed and try to guess each one as it went by: police, or fire, or ambulance.  Wasn't any paramedics, in those days, and the man behind the ambulance wheel might just as soon be the undertaker, and himself he might not know which til he got on scene.

When Bob was a kid, when he was Bobby, when he was Frank's kid brother, when he was Ed and Louise's son, two boys from his block went swimming in the Des Plaines river, under the hot, fat, shimmering August sun, but only one boy came back out again.  Bob (Bobby) walked into a funeral parlor in his Sunday best, starch and a clip-on necktie and hair his mother fussed to flatten, and saw a dead boy lying still and ordinary, as if lulled by the soft weeping of grown-ups and the grinding wheeze of an industrial fan in the corner.  Bobby walked up to the dead boy trying to work out what that meant: dead.  There was something pale about the boy that he had only vaguely known, something missing, something too sweet and fine-spun about his stillness.  

A woman, who might have been the boy's mother (it was a room of bodies: of shuddering bodies in black suits and sunday dresses, veils and whispers, grown-up bodies swaying and heaving like the cars of a freight train), bent and stroked the hair, the cheek, the hands.  A woman looked down at him with shining eyes.  Bob (Bobby, his cock's comb hair straying from its pommade bonds) touched the hand of the boy who wasn't, anymore, because his skin was cold, cold like a door in the morning, before the sun come out and woke up the streets and the buses and the world.  Colder than the gentle face of the moon, colder than the comforting stars.

Wasn't any paramedics, back then, and Bob wonders sometimes if there had been, would there still be two boys and not one, would there be two boys grown to young men.  Two boys gone to work, two boys gone to Vietnam, two boys come home and starting families.  Two boys went swimming and one came back, and one had a painted cheek that felt like the bottom of a river.

Summer in Chicago was a season of sirens: police and fire and ambulance, and in the later afternoons when the storms rolled in you'd hear the tornado warnings go off, howling like something trapped and wounded, like something raging to get out.

It doesn't storm like that, in Los Angeles.  Back home you'd go days of heat, days of swelter, the mercury all but busting out of the thermometer on the drugstore window.  Drink Coca-Cola, said the fading metal, with the similing lady on it, and boy you did, boy you drank it half-solid with ice.  The heat would rise from the day to the night, from the pavement to the bricks to the El, all the way to the sky until at last God deemed it right to break, and the lightning split the world to pieces and the thunder might've cracked the foundations of the earth and rain came spilling out of the sky like Noah was building an ark on the shores of Lake Michigan.  But the heat, here, is brittle and fierce, and holds you in its teeth.

When the rain comes, if it comes at all, it sneaks up on you, and all of a sudden the power's out and the cracked-concrete culvert they call a river here is a raging torrent, rolling fury down to the port, to the ocean, rolling fury like it wants to tear everything down, like a bad trip, like a schizophrenic throwing himself against the walls of a cramped house in a neighborhood of cramped houses and cramped alleys and bad, boiling summer madness.

They're in the throes of the heat, they're at the mercy of the mercury, and Bob's gone through two uniform shirts and Craig's gone through four, and Bob's thinking about asking dispatch to post them up at a landromat for a couple of hours cause he's running out of shirts before he's gonna run out of sweat to soak them in.  They drink water like horses and no one at Station wants to cook, and Cap says the hell with it, popsicles for dinner, and Leroy says Cap they're gonna melt before we get to eat them and Cap says the hell with it, just throw them in a bowl and call it soup.  Craig says, from the couch where he has wilted, ever so slightly, gaz-popsicle, and chuckles.  Gaz-popsicle, like gazpacho, get it?

Parker says Brice made a joke, Cap, I'm gonna shove my whole head in the freezer and don't take me out til January.

Bob laughs, and laughs, and Craig smiles, and the tones go off for a structure fire, as if the whole of the basin isn't hot enough already, just gotta add a few more degrees.

Fire's like death, he thinks, while Craig drives.  It ain't scary, or not.  It's just there, like sky or sand, like birth or sleep.  You're meant to be at least little scared of it, like all the things that'll kill you out in the wide world, but it's no sense to lose sleep over it.  No sense but to be prepared, as Craig is always reminding him, in his sweetly bothersome way, you're a fireman, Bob, how can you forget to change your smoke-alarm batteries?

The structure fire's a house, or it was a house, but it isn't going to be one soon - it's a Craftsman, Bob thinks, and in his mind he sees the layout, in his mind he sees the timbers and the frame, he sees the insulation packed in the walls.  He sees hollow-core doors and shag carpeting.  He sees these things as he hitches up his SCBA.  He sees Craig doing the same, and pats him on the shoulder and Craig pats him back and no one questions it, even if they see it they haven't questioned it for months now.

The sun is a murky eye in the west and the heat of the sky and the cement pushes them toward the house as the house breathes out smoke.  There is no heat like fire: it's like being inside a body, like being inside a fever.  Twenty minutes in and out: it's all you can stand.  Twenty minutes, that's a whole mile walking, twenty minutes, that's nothing, that's an intermission at the drive-in, that's popcorn, that's a thousand years in black smoke.

Twenty minutes.  Craig triple-checks his SCBA every morning every shift, and Bob does the same because why not, because he's close to Craig that way, he does it because Craig does it and once upon a time he just did it to make peace with his partner but he does it now because that peace is like water, that peace is like smoke-detector batteries and bullhead catfish on a barbecue grill.

When Bob comes out of the fire stumbling, slapping hands like a relay to send the next crew in - and 51 is there, and 8s, and 10s, a small army - he falls to his knees on the grass and breathes its sweet summer-cracked smell.  Someone is wrangling the ambulance attendants to bring out paper cups and water and coolers full of ice and he'd shove his head right in but he thinks: what would Craig thing, me shoving my sweaty, sooty face in everyone else's water?

What would Craig think?

He looks around and squints and doesn't see his partner.  He shoves a man from 10s.  You seen my partner, he says?  You see Brice?  The grimed face is blank.  He walks among the kneeling rows: you seen my partner?  You seen Craig?  Roy DeSoto is crouched on the sidewalk, his ginger hair streaked in grime.  You seen Brice, Roy?

Roy has always had that softly concerned face, an expression that seems at first too gentle for a fireman.  He shakes his head.  No, he says.  No, he's not with you?

Now his heart is thumping.  Now his heart is jumping.  Now his muscles hurt, and the gauge on his SCBA is in the red, and twenty minutes is much too long.  There's an army of firemen in the same beige and blackened coats, the same black helmets, breathing the same thick air.  

Cap, he says, Cap, you seen -

There's a hand on his shoulder and a glimpse in his eye, and Craig is missing his glasses somewhere, what a stupid thing to think at first, Craig stares nearsighted at him and pats his arm again.  Bob, he says.  I've been looking for you.

His heart beats in his chest so loud his ribs feel like the rafters of a church.  Oh god, he thinks, oh god.  Craig's live and living and confused face.  His myopic gaze he swipes with one gloved hand.  

"Aw, jeez, kid, don't do that - "

You forget yourself sometimes.  Act like a probie, act like a person.

So he bites his glove off instead, and swipes the grime from under Craig's eye, and smudges it further.  He wants to say: jesus, kid, don't scare me like that.  

But Craig puts a hand flat against his chest, so instead he lets his hand, of flesh and blood and fever, linger longer than it ought.  

#bob bellingham #craig brice #brice/bellingham #emergency! #steering the ship into ritalin bay #this actually includes the prompt as requested

[journalingcryptid]

Last class of the semester done! To honour that have some wild out of context quotes from professors, in no order whatsoever

(And yes, I took a theology class so some of them are religious)

“Egypt equals suffering”

“We can create a new system where children aren’t sacrificed at the alter of profit.”

“It’s good for business to have lower standards”

(About a spelling mistake I made) “I like that it’s like Jesus is calling him a bad name!”

“(Global rich list) is my favourite website!”

“You think these acronyms are bad just wait until we discuss government agencies. It’s acronym soup”

“I tried to get rid of those pesky counter examples but people keep bringing them up!”

“Remember Society is a milking stool”

“Education makes it too expensive to have lots of kids”

“I hate to play into Godwin’s theory but we’re bringing up the Nazis”

“Reductio ad Hitlerum”

“Your expertise is irrelevant. We can know all the laws of human behaviour and be garbage at relating to humans.”

“The way things are done is important to consider” (emphasis on consider)

“Don’t listen to France Bacon, here’s a better way”

“this clock is reliable, but totally invalid.”

“You can’t hunt people down and demand they participate in your research study”

“Convenience samples are not convenient, they are haphazard disasters”

“Dying is not a very good way of doing life”

“Oh, boys will be boys, which is the root of all evil it seems”

“One of the focuses... focuses? Focus? Foki? *shrugs* Of the gospel of Matthew...”

“Racism is why Canada outlawed Christmas one year.”

“Read the last Harry Potter book to get an idea of the power of resurrection”

“If good and evil are in constant battle then the world will always be trash”

“Don’t hope too much, that will be dangerous for you.”

“(About Jesus) He’s not going out with guns and grenades and bombs to convert people to democracy”

“I mean (colonialism) is always about greed but what else.”

“There is no box made by god or man that the top can’t be blown off and then sides flattened out to make a dance floor to celebrate life - you gotta keep dancing by Tim Hansel”

#about me #me #aspen speaks #fun #funny #out of context #quotes from professors #shit my professor said #quotes #lol #school #uni problems #uni #just college things #college be like #some of these are better than others #some are really funy #teachers doing fun stuff

[rockinthebeastmode]

Preview: You’re A Man Now, Boy

A/N: Confession--I’m mostly posting this to push myself to work on it (as well as everyfuckingthing else I’ve started 😂). I was originally planning on this being a short one-off but @arathewallflower has almost convinced me to make it longer. Who knows though 🤷🏽‍♀️😏 This is a Bad Apple universe fic so it’ll make more sense if you read that first. It’s also inspired by You’re A Man Now, Boy by Raleigh Ritchie. Hope you enjoy!

You can find all of Bad Apple here.

You can find the rest of my fics here.

@eveerez @i-dream-of-emus@lilaviolet @laurielau @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg@kneekeyta @likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger@crystalgiddings1993 @milllott@milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win@ifinallyknow@isthistherightwayround@believethaticanandiwill @my-mad-fatuation

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Preview: You’re A Man Now, Boy

Finn Nelson smirked around his cigarette as he dropped his cards on the table, the boys around him groaning and cursing.

“How’d you get so good, Nelson?”

“Yeah, mate, you counting cards or what?”

“Just natural talent, lads,” Finn sighed, pulling the pot of rollies, coins and scrap paper with written bets towards him, “Who’s dealing next?”

Feedback burst from the loudspeaker before ‘Finn Nelson to the warden’s office immediately’ rang out over the yard. The boys hooted and nudged him as he stood, waving them all off. He took a final drag before he tossed his rollie and approached the guard by the door. He held out his wrists, grimacing as cuffs were shut around them, and followed the guard into the building. He fell silent as they walked, his eyes running over the hallway and the other boys in their rooms.

It’d been almost two years since his arrest and if he was honest, lockup wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected it to be. He had it rough at first, finding his place among the others, as well as being the new fish but he held his own and kept his act clean. He studied and worked out, played cards and footy with the boys--even made nice with a couple guards. He’d done his time the best way he could.

The guard knocked on the warden’s door, opening it when a voice answered. He removed Finn’s cuffs before turning to leave. Finn nodded to him as he passed the threshold and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Warden Lewis offered him a small smile as she clasped her hands on the desk.

“Looks like it’s time, my boy,” she started, pushing a stack of papers closer to him, “Just need your signature and initials and you’re good to go.”

“Just like that?” Finn asked, huffing a laugh. The warden shrugged and raised her hands.

“Y’did your time, you kept out of trouble and you’ve worked hard...now it’s time to move on.”

Finn pursed his lips and nodded, taking the proffered pen from her and signing on every highlighted line. When he’d checked over the papers and slid them back to her, she straightened them and placed them in his folder. She stood, Finn following hastily, and held her hand out to him.

“Your dad’s waiting out front for you,” she said, shaking his hand tightly, “Now, I want you to stay out of trouble...I know that’s a foreign concept for you.”

Finn rolled his eyes but grinned, inclining his head to her. He turned to the door and as he opened it, she spoke again.

“By the way...happy birthday.”

Finn was buzzed outside shortly after he left the warden’s office and he tried to smile at his dad from the door. Gary rushed forward and hugged him, tighter than he had expected.

“Jesus, Dad, you miss me or summat?”

“Hush, Finny, of course I bloody missed you,” he retorted, pulling back and holding him by the shoulders, “Y’alright? I’ve got some clothes for ya in the car but you can change at home.”

Gary’s arm went around Finn’s shoulders and they walked to the car, Finn shaking his head in slight disbelief.

***

Finn bit his cheek as he looked over his childhood home from the driveway, steeling himself for what he might find inside. Gary got out and went to the door, waving at Finn when he didn’t move from the car. He hesitantly followed him inside, his father immediately going to the phone.

“Go on and change, I’ve some calls to make for work.”

Finn repressed an eye roll and padded up the stairs, the bundle of clothes in his arms. He paused when he reached his bedroom door, his lips flattening as his hand went to the knob. His eyes closed as he opened it and he stepped inside before looking around.

The room was like a museum--completely untouched. A thick layer of dust covered everything and he grimaced at the staleness in the air. He dropped the clothes to the bed and opened the window, taking a deep breath of fresh air. He changed quickly, his older clothes tight around him. He dropped to the bed, his gaze flitting from place to place.

Finn’s stomach dropped as he spotted the ripped condom box on the floor next to the bed and he shook his head, trying to shake any thoughts of Rae. It’d been two years after all--she’d probably forgotten all about him. Knowing the state his room had been left in, he didn’t doubt her long lost dress would still be at the top of his laundry pile. He looked at his pillows, wondering if after all this time her perfume was faint on the linens.

He stood abruptly at the thought, stepping towards his record player. He grabbed a shirt from the floor and wiped away the dust from his records before flicking through them. He pulled out What’s the Story and his lips pursed as he considered it. He dropped it and reached a few behind it for Blur, placing it on the player without another thought.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know whatcha think 😁 If you read this far, here’s a snippet from Sabotage--I promise I’m still working on it!

Finn’s eyes fluttered as he poured two tea cups full to the brim, his girlfriend’s monotonous voice flowing over him like a blanket. He shook his fringe out of his eyes, dropping the teapot to the table with a loud clunk. Olivia jumped, her voice tapering off. He smiled sheepishly.

“Soz, Liv,” he said through a yawn, reaching for the milk and sugar. She looked at him curiously as she reached for her cup.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked, Finn meeting Digsy’s eyes from across the room. She blew out a sigh, side-eying Olivia before returning to her bowl. Finn coughed through a snort and nodded. She stirred sugar into her cup and took a sip.

“What time’s your dad’s rehearsal dinner at again?”

Finn grimaced and rubbed his jaw.

“Seven,” he replied, “D’ya think he’d take an early wedding present so we don’t have to go?”

“Finn, it’s your father,” she chuckled, shaking her head. Finn groaned and rolled his neck. He was thrilled his dad was getting remarried and his bride-to-be Felicity Stringfellow was perfectly nice but the thought of his college ex being his step-sister made his stomach turn.

“We’ll head over when I get out of work, yeah?” she continued. Finn nodded and looked at his watch. He finished his tea off before leaning over the table to kiss Olivia’s cheek.

“Gotta go get ready,” he said, standing and going towards the bedroom, “See ya tonight.”

Finn cracked the door behind him and Digsy slid through, jumping to the bed. He sighed with a smile as she sprawled over his pillow and he sat down next to her, pulling his laptop from the side table. He sat still and waited to hear Olivia’s heels clicking down the hall and out the door before he opened it, running a finger over the mouse to wake it. His email appeared, a new message notification flashing, and he clicked it, biting back a smile as he started to read.

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfdfanfiction #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary fanfiction #badapple #my mad fat diary #sabotage #mymadfatdiary

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Stepping Up: Part 2

Pairings: Chibs x Reader, Past Jax x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 4,105

Stepping Up Masterlist   Aesthetic by @ravenangel33​

Part 1

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

You had only seen Jax Teller cry a handful of times. When Thomas and his dad passed away, when Tara left for San Diego; when he came over to your house the night he got patched… but you had never seen him cry as hard as he did when the nurse laid his baby girl in his arms for the first time.

“She’s so beautiful.” He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose to wipe his tears away. “Look how beautiful she is, babe.” He came over to you and crouched slightly. You smiled through tear filled eyes as you looked at the most beautiful baby girl you had ever seen. You let out a sob as you ran your finger tip down her tiny nose.

“Kelsi…” You whispered as you gave her a kiss on her forehead, unable to even come up with words to say, before the nurses had to take her from Jax to get her cleaned up and weighed.

“Thank you. Thank you so damn much.” Jax said as he came back over to sit with you for a minute. “I didn’t think I ever wanted kids but… Jesus Christ, she’s perfect. Thank you for putting up with my shit and giving me the greatest gift in the entire world. I don’t deserve this, especially from someone as good as you.”

“Of course honey.” You said as you reached up and wiped his tears away with your thumbs. “You’re a good man, Jax. You just have to believe in yourself a little more. You’re gunna be a great daddy.” He nodded as he took your hand in his and laid it against his cheek.

“I never told you… but I’m sorry for that night…”

“No, none of that now. Go be with our baby girl. We can have that talk another time.” He nodded as you wiped away more of his tears with your thumb.

“I love you. You know that, right.” You smiled and nodded your head drowsily.

“I love you, too, Jax.” He gave you a chaste kiss before standing up and scrubbing the heels of his palms across his eyes.

“Hey, baby girl.” He said gently as the nurse handed Kelsi back to him with a smile. “I don’t know how to break this to you, princess… but I’m your old man.” You heard her fuss slightly as he walked her back over to you so you could hold her and he laughed. “Yea, I know. Scary, right? This is your mommy.” He said as he laid her gently across your chest. He crouched down next to you with a smile. “Now your mommy here is gunna make sure that your daddy doesn’t mess you up to bad.” You smiled as tears of joy ran down your cheeks. “And so is your da and your pop and all your uncles. You are already so loved, princess.”

“She’s gunna be the most spoiled child in the world because of the MC.” You teased as you ran your fingertips over every inch of available skin you could get to.

“Oh, speaking of…” Jax reached into the pocket of his scrubs with a smile. “Daddy brought you a present.” He reached purposely in front of your face and pulled off the hospital issue hat Kelsi had on. He chuckled to himself as he replaced it with a new one.

“Really, Jax?” You giggled as you pulled down the new pink hat that had the club’s reaper and Sons of Anarchy patched on to it.

“Absolutely. She’s the first Reaper baby in 20 somethin’ years. Next generation.” You rolled your eyes as you flattened the slightly stiff top a bit.

“Alright, I’ll allow it. But she’s not getting a motorcycle until she's 30.”

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

When you were pregnant, everyone who had had kids told you that time would fly by faster than you could even imagine. You didn’t want to believe it; didn’t want to believe how quickly days blurred into months but before you knew it, your little baby girl was turning one.

“If I stay in bed and keep my eyes closed can she go back to being tiny again?” You asked Chibs as the two of you laid in bed. He laughed as he traced the c section scar across your lower abdomen with his fingers.

“Doesn’t work that way, darlin’. I told ye I’d go by sharpish.” You groaned as you threw your arms over your eyes in protest.

“Nope. Find me a reset button.” You wiggled back and forth for a moment before a thought came to you. “Shit… this means she's one year closer to dating.”

“Betta get m’guns tagetha cause that’s never ‘appenin’. I’ll kill a man comes near ‘er.” You laughed as you looked over at him.

“She’s gunna be sneaking out and getting in all sorts of trouble, ya know. Little spawn of Satan we got on our hands.”

‘Da. Da. Mumma.’ You arched your eyebrow and pointed toward the door as Kelsi began talking away in her room.

“Chatty Kathy called you first.” You giggled as he rolled out of bed, used to the drill by now.

“Ye got the coffee?” You nodded as you rolled out of bed and grabbed a discarded shirt from the night before off the floor.

“Gunna need it today. We got a long day ahead of us.” He nodded as he pulled on his jeans and headed out of the room to get his little girl. You hung back for a moment, just to listen to Chibs over the baby monitor.

‘Well g’morn’ my little birthday princess. All ready ta start yer day?’

‘Da up.’ You smiled as you pictured her standing in her crib, her dirty blonde hair sleep fanned out around her head, with her arms in the air, grabbing at the air to be picked up and loved on. Because she totally didn’t get enough love all day, everyday at the club as is. You grabbed your phone off the charger and glanced at it. You flipped through the three notifications you had; the email from a parenting website you were a member of wishing Kelsi a happy birthday, a text from Gemma about the birthday party she was having that day at her house and one from Jax asking if he could come over for breakfast.

“Jax wants to come for breakfast.” You called out as you walked past the nursery and headed toward the kitchen.

“Jax got impatient waiting for you to wake up so he came over anyways.” You yelped at the unexpected sound of his voice and jumped back from your living room.

“(Y/N)?!”

“It’s fine!” You called out as you stormed into the living room in a playful rage. “Just Jax being typical Jax.” You grabbed a pillow and whacked him with it as he laughed.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance.

“I need to move that damn hide-a-key.”

“Won’t matter. I made a copy.” You groaned as you headed into the kitchen to get breakfast started.

“Daddy!” You turned back to the sound of your little girls voice and smiled. She stretched toward Jax; her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with joy.

“There’s my little birthday girl. Jesus Christ, what do you feed her? She gets bigger every time I see her.”

“Ye see ‘er damn near ev’y day.” Chibs laughed as he passed off Kelsi.

“Language da. We’re repeating words, remember.” You said over your shoulder.

“Oh no. What did we repeat?” You spun in your spot with your eyebrows raised as the coffee began to percolate behind you.

“Apparently, gramma likes to say f-u-c-k a lot.”

“Oh, she did not.” He laughed as he set his daughter down in her highchair.

“Oh, she most definitely did, boyo. I was jus’ waitin’ for (Y/N) ta lose it.”

“And it wasn’t like a stumble into the word either. It was a full blown, no hesitation ‘fuck’.”

“Fuck.” Kelsi repeated. You pointed to her as Jax started laughing hysterically.

“See? That’s the freaking Teller in her.”

“That’s the greatest thing ever.” Jax said.

“Not in the slightest. Ye want the other ‘alf of this, love?” Chibs’ asked as he grabbed a banana to cut up for Kelsi. You shrugged as you grabbed a sippy cup of milk and the carton of eggs out of the fridge.

“If you don’t, sure. Pancakes good for you two?” You got two mumbled yes’ and you nodded as you flipped on the CD player you had in the kitchen for meals. As the opening guitar and violin of ‘Wagon Wheel’ by Old Crow Medicine Show softly filled your kitchen, Jax scoffed.

“The hell is this?”

“Music. She loves this song.” You pointed over your shoulder to Kelsi who was bouncing, bobbing her head and kicking her legs off beat to the music as she took a banana slice from Chibs.

“It grows on ye when ye listen ta it for a few meals in a row, lad. Trust me.” You laughed as you got everything ready for pancakes and eggs.

“Shut up, you love this song.” You teased as Chibs put his hand on your hip. He held the other half of the banana in front of you and you took a bite before he popped the other half in his mouth with a smile. With a returning smile, you gave him a chaste kiss before going back to get started on breakfast.

“You two are gross.” Jax claimed as he got up and made himself a cup of coffee.

“’s’what love looks like, Jackie boy. Gross.” You laughed as someone knocked on the front door. “I got it.” Chibs said as he squeezed your hip and gave it a small pat.

“It’s prob Gem. She told me yesterday she was thinking about coming for breakfast.” You flipped the small pancake in the pan as you started in on the eggs when a chilling voice set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“Oh… I saw Jax’s bike…”

“No!” You snapped as you shoved the two pans off the burners. “Sit down!” You snapped at Jax as you stormed through your kitchen. As you rounded the corner, Tara looked a little stunned to see you. “You don’t get to be here today. Get back in your car and go back to San Diego or where ever the hell you came from…”

“(Y/N), I…” You shook your head and held your hand up as Chibs mumbled something about the pancakes.

“No, you don’t get to come back like this and expect everything was gunna be OK again.” You heard Jax say your name and you whipped around. “Get back in there. You’re absolutely not leaving your daughter on her birthday.”

“Daughter…? What…?”

“And you don’t get to ask questions. Tara, you left us! You didn’t even bother to let me, your supposed ‘best friend’ know that you were going. You just picked up and left Charming to ‘get away from the small time life’. Wasn't even a year after you get his crow. You broke his heart, T! It took us 10 fuckin’ years to get him to see real happiness again and I will not let you come in and ruin it today.”

“(Y/N), I’m…”

“Yea, you’re sorry, I know. I don’t wanna hear it today, I really don’t. It’s my daughter’s birthday and I won’t let you be the rain storm on a good day. Find Jax at the club tomorrow if you want to reconnect but do not come anywhere near me if you plan on sticking around. I’m just as hurt as he was.” You watched Tara’s tear filled face drop as she realized that your daughter and Jax’s daughter were the same little girl as you closed the door in her face. You locked it and headed back into the kitchen.

“Why did you do that?” Jax demanded as he glared at you across the short expanse of white tile.

“Because I love you, Jackson. Because you haven’t been this happy since we were in high school. Kelsi brought out a love that I know you thought was never ever coming back. Her coming back today just puts a dark cloud on something that is really good in your life. Talk to her tomorrow and figure out your issues then if that’s what you want to do. Today is your daughter’s first birthday, focus on that today and deal with Tara tomorrow. Just know, I want nothing to do with her right now and I don’t want her around my daughter any time soon.”

“You’re unbelievable…” With a shake of his head, he crossed the kitchen and jogged to the door. You heard him call out to Tara over Kelsi saying ‘bye-bye Daddy’ as he slammed the door behind him without even saying goodbye to his birthday girl. With a huffed, humorless laugh and tears in your eyes, you bit your tongue and shook your head.

“Am I wrong in this?” You asked Chibs as he flipped off the burners and put pancakes and eggs on two plates.

“Ye ‘ave the right ta say who can come ‘round our daughter. Ye ‘ad the right to tell ‘er to wait a day ta talk ta Jax. Ye don’ ‘ave the right ta tell ‘im not ta talk ta the woman ‘e loves. I do agree that ‘e should’ve waited but… that’s ‘is call, m’love.” You sighed and plopped down in the chair Jax had just vacated.

“This just made shit so much more fucking complicated.” You said as he handed you your plate.

“Fuck.” Kelsi said happily as she kicked her feet.

“Eat yer pancake, ye little monsta.” Chibs said as he scrunched up his face at the little girl and handed her the small pancake you had made her. She took it in one hand and whacked her other on Chibs’ face before peeling into a fit of giggles. He growled and pretended to eat her hand as you smiled and ran your hand through your hair.

“God, what did I do to get a guy as amazing as you?” He smiled as he took a seat across from you and turned the high chair toward the table more.

“Ye didn’t ‘ave ta do anythin’ m’love. Ye jus’ exist.” You scooted your plate to the side a little bit and leaned across the table to give him a chaste kiss. He reached up and brushed his thumb across your cheek as he rested his forehead against yours. “I love ye, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too Filip. So, so much.”

“Wuv oo!” Kelsi shouted, not liking the fact that she wasn’t the center of attention at breakfast like usual. You laughed as you moved over and gave her a big kiss.

“I love you, my little birthday girl.” She giggled as Chibs’ gave her a kiss as well.

“‘take mumma?” She said as she offered you her pancake. You laughed as you pulled your plate over and grabbed your fork.

“No that’s Kelsi’s pancake. Mommy’s pancake is here.” You pointed at your plate. She stretched to see it with a slight look of confusion before completely ignoring you.

“‘take, da?” She said as she offered him the pancake. You laughed and shook your head.

“Now that she gets from you, mum.” You laughed as he pretended to take a bite of her pancake. She giggled and ripped it away from him as she picked up a banana slice and ate it instead. You sighed contently and ate your breakfast with your family, forcing yourself to not let Tara and Jax ruin a perfect day.

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

“Where’s Jax? He told me yesterday he was…” Gemma asked as you walked into her house for the birthday party. She took one look at your face, stopped talking and physically took a step back.

“Tara’s back.” You said as she reached for her grand daughter.

“I’m gunna kill that…”

“Lovely individual.” Chibs said, trying to help you enforce the ‘no swearing’ rule until Kelsi got out of the ‘repeat everything she hears’ phase.

“Yea… ‘cause that’s exactly what that woman is.” Gem said sarcastically before turning her full attention on the birthday girl. “Look at you in your pretty princess dress!” She exclaimed as she headed toward the yard where everyone else was gathering. You followed after her only to get stopped along the way by Bobby.

“Hey, mama. Happy ‘thanks for giving us our niece’ day.” You laughed as you gave him a hug. “Hey, where’s the boy Prince? Wasn’t he…”

“Tara’s back in town.” Chibs said over your growl.

“Awe shit…” Bobby grumbled as your boyfriend gently pushed you toward the pool and the party. Your now sour mood didn’t even get a chance to lighten up. As you stepped outside, Piney came over to say hi and of course, asked where Jax was. You closed your eyes and sighed as you simply walked away, letting Chibs and Bobby fill in the gaps. When the third person, poor Juice, asked; you snapped.

“You know what? I don’t fucking know where the fuck Jax is. I’m not his Goddamn keeper. I’m just the poor bitch he fucking knocked up. If you assholes want to know where my current piece of shit baby daddy is, why don’t you call him yourselves… or better yet, call Tara because he’s probably diving face first into her pussy at the moment. Couldn’t even say bye to his daughter when he chased after that piece of tail out this morning. Now, can I fucking celebrate my little princess’ birthday with my family or are you more fucking concerned about his Goddamn whereabouts?”

Not a single person said a word as you turned around and stormed into the house as tears welled in your eyes. You grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter off a table and headed toward your old room. You held yourself together as you climbed the stairs but the second you slammed the door behind you, the dam broke. You walked over and sunk down on the window seat Clay had made you when he first moved into the house. You pulled open the window that overlooked the back of the house and lit up a cigarette.

You absolutely hated yourself for getting yourself in this position. You hated that Chibs was drawn into the mess simply because he loved you. You hated that Kelsi wasn’t his. Yes, you absolutely loved your daughter, there was no denying that. You wouldn’t do anything to change having her in your life. But you would most definitely change Jax as the one who fathered her. You sat in that window seat, self loathing for two whole cigarettes before someone finally knocked on the door. You called out for them to come in as you wiped your tears away.

“Someone wants her mama.” Gemma said over Kelsi’s crying ‘mumma’ as she walked into the room. You got up and headed over to take your baby girl as she reached for you. With a sigh, you walked over to your old bed and sat down.

“You and I both know he’s gunna choose Tara over Kelsi in the end…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Gemma said as she closed your room door and sat down next to you on the bed. She wrapped her two girls in her arms and rocked you both back and forth. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“It’s like… it’s one thing to treat me that way. I’m an adult, I can handle it. But Kelsi is one. She’s not gunna understand why d-a-d-d-y is running in and out of her life because of Tara.”

“And that is why I am so glad she has her da.” Gemma said as she looked down at you. She sighed as she brushed your hair out of your face. “I love my son but Jackson doesn’t use his head. He’s an act first, don’t think about the consequences until it’s too late kind of guy. Which is how we got this cutie.” She said as she bopped her finger on Kelsi’s nose to make her smile. You smiled as you looked down at your pride and joy, who was peacefully laying on your chest and playing with the charm on your necklace.

“So, I’m willing to guess that that gash is gunna stick around for a while and you know I like her about as much as a murderer likes a confessional box…” you couldn't help but giggle at her comparison and she smirked at you. “But I can tell you right now. If Jax dares to put that bitch before Kelsi ever again, I will see to it myself that he signs his rights over. You are just as much my child as he is and I won’t see my baby girls get hurt because of his inability to step up and be a man.”

“Thanks, Gem.” You laid your head on her shoulder as she took a hold of and squeezed your free hand.

“I love you, baby. Now, we have a little princess to celebrate.” She said as she kissed your forehead and got up off the bed. “You wanna go down stairs with gramma?” She asked in a sing song voice. Kelsi shook her head and hid her face in your neck, causing both of you to laugh. “Thomas used to do the same thing to JT at morning nap time so that right there is a Teller thing.” You laughed as you kissed your daughters head and stood up with a sigh. You looked over in the mirror, thanked the part of you that thought to put on waterproof mascara that morning and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the seat.

“I don’t know who I stole these from.” You laughed as you handed them to Gemma so you could shut the window.

“You snooze, you lose when it comes to cigarettes around here. If you put them down and they disappear…” You turned around as she opened the door to leave and your smile dropped when you saw Jax with his fist raised to knock. You watched Gemma’s face flash through fifty shades of rage before she could say something. “Get in your room. You and I need to fucking talk, now.” He rolled his eyes and tried to take a step past her to get to Kelsi but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Let go…”

“Jackson, do you know when you went running out of (Y/N)’s house after that gash that your daughter said bye to you and you didn’t even look at her?” His eyes left his little girl to find yours for confirmation as Gemma forced him back into the hall. “Get. To. Your. Room.” You put your hand on the back of Kelsi’s head as Gemma forcefully moved Jax out of your way. You quickly slid past them with a small ‘thanks’ to Gem before quickly heading down stairs.

“I won’t let him hurt you any more, baby girl.” You promised as you made your way back outside. You didn’t make it two steps outside before Chibs stepped in front of you. “I’m alright…”

“Jax is ‘ere. No Tara.” You nodded as you took your hand off Kelsi’s head and reached out to cup Chib’s cheek.

“I saw him. Gem is talking to him. I’ll fill you in at home.” He nodded in understanding as you leaned in and gave him a kiss.

“A’right, let’s not fret anymore and celebrate our little princess, yea?” You nodded as he kissed Kelsi on the top of the head. She looked up at him and decided she would much rather be held by him instead as she stretched away from you to him.

“We’re getting close to ‘sleep on someone for half an hour before running around like a mad woman’ nap time.” You said as you fixed her dress in the back so it laid nicely.

“Looks like that someone’s me t’day.” You looked down as Kelsi yawned once and passed out. You laughed and shook your head.

“God, she’s just too damn cute.” With a gentle kiss to the top of her head, you headed over to grab a beer. You only had to force yourself to actually enjoy your daughters birthday party for a few minutes before your family made your day so much more enjoyable that it had been a little while before.

Part 3

#Chibs x Reader #Stepping Up #Stepping Up Series

[tipsycad147]

Three Leaf Clover

Some folk traditions assign a different attribute to each leaf of a clover. The three leaf clover represents the Holy Trinity ~ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Alternatively, it represents the Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

The three leafed clover is often used in rituals designed to protect or to keep one looking youthful and fair. As a protection carry one on your person.

To keep looking young, gather dew on May Day morning, just before the Sun rises. Put into  this water three clover stalks. Let these steep all day out of the Sun’s rays. The next morning, again before the sun rises, rub a little of the water on your face. Do this every morning until the water is used up. Cover the bowl with a cloth to keep the water clean and store in a place where it will remain untouched until the following morning.

Early Christian proselytisers, such as St. Patrick, used both the shamrock and the clover to demonstrate the three-in-one notion of the trinity ( father, son, and holy spirit). It is also said that snakes will not venture where clover grows, which ties into the idea of St Patrick and his reputation for driving the snakes out of Ireland.

That said, the Irish had imbued the shamrock with meaning before St. Patrick came along. Three-leaf clovers featured prominently in ancient Celtic rituals and folklore (triads and the number three were considered spiritually significant back then, too).

With its three leaves, Clover is a very shamanic plant allowing one to see into and interact with the Other world. It is a good talisman of protection and power for travelling out of body and walking between worlds. Never underestimate the magical power of this simple and harmless weed. It also makes a good offering to Mercurial deities and can be burned with incense, added to ritual smoking blend, made into alcoholic brews, or left with a food offering.

Four Leaf Clover

Although all clover has the same magickal properties, it is the rare four leafed kind that is especially powerful. Such a plant, when found, enabled the finder to see fairies, detect witches, and recognize evil spirits. Anyone wearing a four-branched leaf was safe from malicious enchantments and one hidden in the dairy, or barn prevented witches from harming the milk supply or the butter.

If a girl wore a four leaf clover in her right shoe, the first unmarried man she met on her first journey with it would be her future husband, or if not he, then another man of the same name. Another method is to pin the four leaf clover above the front door of her home. Again, the first unmarried man who walks through her door will become her husband.

There is a story in the Denham Tracts of a Northumberland girl who, when returning from milking, saw fairies dancing in the field. No one else could see them, though she pointed them out. She was not normally second-sighted, and it was afterwards discovered that the source of her vision lay in the circular pad she wore on her head to support the milk pail. Among the grasses with which it was stuffed was a four leaf clover.

Four leafed clovers are genetic mutations of the three leafed varieties, and well-known European – American charms, bringing in (and representing) health, wealth, love and luck, and protecting from witchcraft. An old rhyme is as follows:

One leaf for fame, One leaf for wealth, And one for a faithful lover, And one leaf to bring you glorious health, Are all in the four leaf clover.

The luckiest four leaf clover is one you find when you are not looking for one. The four leaf clover carries all the symbolism of the number 4.

Some people press four leafed clovers in a book, such as the Bible, and keep them in the house. Others carry a dried and flattened four leafed clover in their wallet, to draw money, even going so far as to laminate them to card-stock to preserve them. Jewellers make effigies of them, working these into key chain fobs, brooches, pendants, and rings.

An old legend says that when Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden, Eve took a four leaf clover with her to remind her of the happiness she had enjoyed there. Consequently finding a four leaf clover became a sign of good luck and happiness. Anyone lucky enough to be in possession of a four leaf clover has a piece of the blessed Paradise

In the seventeenth century, four leaf clovers were sometimes strewn in the path of a bride to provide her with extra protection from evil spirits on her special day.

Four leaf clovers are carried to prevent madness. It is also a popular amulet to avoid military service. Gather the four leaf clovers in the morning, then walk to the nearest hill. As the Sun rises throw one clover to the North, and one to each of the other directions, calling upon the powers of the Elements to protect you, to keep you from getting drafted or whatever your wish is. Then, after finishing the ritual, pluck one more four leaf clover (remember, leave something in payment to the earth for the plant taken) and keep it as a magickal link with the elements.

They are also a frequent image on good luck tokens and they appear on greeting cards and postcards conveying good wishes to the recipient. Some say that four-leaf clovers grant the power to see fairies. In other traditions it is said that they are related to St. Patrick’s use of the shamrock to explain Christianity to the Irish, the cross of Jesus being made up of 4 parts.

The earliest mention of “Fower-leafed or purple grasse” is from 1640 and simply says that it was kept in gardens because it was “good for the purples in children or others.” John Melton, an English writer wrote the following in 1620 about the clover:

“That if any man walking in the fields, find any foure-leaved grasse, he shall in a small while after find some good thing.”

A description from 1869 says that four-leaf clovers were “gathered at night-time during the full moon by sorceresses, who mixed it with vervain and other ingredients, while young girls in search of a token of perfect happiness made quest of the plant by day.” The first reference to luck might be from an 11-year-old girl, who wrote in an 1877 letter to St. Nicholas Magazine, “Did the fairies ever whisper in your ear, that a four-leaf clover brought good luck to the finder?”

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/magickal-ingredients/clover-magick-and-lore/

[helena-m-wayne-blog]

Do you remember that day? The day that Metropolis was almost grounded, well, flattened more like, to nothing but a pile of rubble that could have resembled the likes of ancient Rome or Greece? When the Gods came to play among the lowly humans of that city, I don't think they considered the death toll they would rise. The families they would break apart. The trauma they would cause to children who lost parents or wives who lost husbands. The site of the hero of Metropolis crashing into building after building, smashing glass, obliterating lives was one that would haunt many minds for years to come. It sounded as if the whole world was caving in, that an earthquake was literally happening in the skies above the once safe city. Most people, however, forgave the sky god within months, saying that the lives of the few outweighed the good of the many. But try telling that to the young girl who almost and did lose her entire existence that day. To have the life you knew, the safe life, ripped from under your feet within the space of hours. I was an eight-year-old girl that day, waiting patiently with my mother in the clinical cafeteria of Wayne Enterprises. Complaining at her, probably, that it was her fault that Daddy was late, again, that the journey from Gotham was her fault, that she didn't care, that my whole life sucked because of her. It was handover day. The day every parent dreads. Meeting the ex, handing over your most precious possession with guilt ridden hands. To me, it was the stark reminder that even though I had all I could wish for at my fingertips, I didn't have what I really needed. A stability in the knowledge that my parents loved each other. Or that I would come home to one of them, not a babysitter or a butler, and a smile with a warm meal and a chance to sit and do homework with an interested parent. I was a burden to both adults in my life, I knew that. They knew that. Even if I was affectionately named kitten by one and sweetheart by the other. That, and I hid their secrets that you wouldn't trust the FBI with, never mind a little girl with serious attention seeking tendencies. Do you know how many times they would play 'Well my Daddy…" and I would have to bite my tongue? How easy it would have been for me slam them all down with four words about either parent? I digress, I'm a bitter woman, if you couldn't tell that already. The cafeteria, no, the whole construction shook with a loud boom that rocked its very foundations. Mom was apprehensive, more than that, intrigued and when mom was intrigued, you needed to be worried. Her green eyes scanned the windows, not getting up just yet, but that little crease in her forehead, just between the eyes, was signal enough to me that I needed to be on guard. Something was coming. I can imagine my little jaw setting firmly or a full bottom lip trembling in fear. I say imagine, because I'm not 100% certain, I tend to burry things deeply when I'm traumatised. "It's okay kitten…they're probably doing something really fun in the science department…" Her voice always fell from her mouth like butter as she took my hand and smiled gently. Encouraging me to finish the milk she'd bought with a nod. And I did, tentatively. On edge. Waiting to run for cover. Jesus, I was from Gotham. I spent some of my time in her run-down apartment in the oldest part of the city. I knew when danger was imminent. That was one of those moments. Still, she sat there, blowing the hot steam from her coffee, taking a sip with full lips in the most beautiful way you could imagine. Elongated fingers wrapped around the white beaker, red nails tapping the porcelain and eyelashes almost hitting the rim of the cup. That was my mom. She could make anything look like sex. As an eight-year-old, I didn't get it, but as I got older, I understood why men stared the way they did, or why she had dad where she wanted him most of the time. Only when that boom crashed a couple of ceiling tiles, did she stand up, on edge, ready to pounce into action. She watched as a building fell a mile away, the sonic sound and the dust that had emitted from crumbling concrete filled the streets in seconds. People were screaming, running to either watch or headed for the stairs in sheer terror. The phone was in her hand, dialling numbers in so quickly as she tapped her foot in agitation, that bottom lip caught in her teeth as she listened to an engaged tone. "God damn you…." She growled under her breath, holding the phone in one hand as she rammed things into my bag, swinging it over her shoulder. "Helena, come here." She held out her other hand and I took it, squeezing on tightly, not one question asked as she dialled again, and still, not one answer as the carnage outside of the window continued. It was now almost black, thick blackness surrounded the building. Screaming and crashing continued both inside and out. "We're going to run, Hel, remember, how we practiced…." She said without passing a green-eyed look at me. Her mind was in survival mode, and when that happened, there was no comfort for her petrified daughter, that would come later. She didn't get the chance as the building shook so hard, that tiles began fall from the ceiling around us, throwing us both under a table as her phone finally rang through, the growl in her throat had become a softer one, one laced with both annoyance and fear. "What the hell is going on out there?" The muffled voice at the end of the phone was the one we both needed at that point in time, her eyes noticed mine, crying was not something that her daughter did, but when she did, it was always her father's duty to deal with them. The speaker phone was activated as the crashing tiles and shaking floor continued around us. "You both need to get out of that building…. NOW…." His growl was one of frustration, one because he was unable to get to us fast enough and he knew that. Even if mom was totally capable of finding us safety, it would be angering him to hell to know he was unable to reach us before our worlds collapsed around us. "Daddy…." My voice broke its silence, integrated with sobs and more over with that high-pitched cry no father needs to hear from his little girl. "Daddy…. it's going to crash…. it's going to fall…" I screamed, screamed as the glass blew out of the windows and flew across the room, showering both of us and those around us. Many of them laying unconscious on the floor, pouring out blood, moaning, screaming and crying worse than I could at that time. "Helena, listen, I'm coming for you now, a few minutes and I'll be there, get your mother and go down the stairs…don't use the elevator…. the stairs …. okay… you got it …." He was attempting to lie through to create calmness, but it wasn't working. I knew it was more than bad, a fear had set in that man's heart, one he had not really had to face before. "Yes… I will …. I promise…" I observed around me, mom was there, comatose, blood driving from her head, covered in dirt, wreckage and lead glass. I tried with all my strength to shake her awake, to make her look at me as I cried out in fear. "Mom…wake up…we need to run…." I was pleading, I remember that, begging for her to live through this, just in time for dad to get there. "Hel, sweetheart, run… you need to be brave … run …" he shouted down the phone as the signal began to break, as if he understood what was happening in that moment in time. I did, I grabbed my bear, tightly and darted for it, the lights flickering as I sped through the darkened building. Down stairs, missing a few and stumbling, cutting open my hands and knees. But I couldn't give into the pain, even at that age I knew not to let it rule me as I got out. Into the dust filled air of the street below. All I could do was look up, helplessly, as most the building began to crash about myself. Stunned that my mother was now trapped inside that rubble, helpless, unable to defend herself. I couldn't even find it in me to grasp the special awareness I needed. Rooted to the spot, not able to see the danger I was in. But he did, luckily for me. In that moment, right at the very second I needed him to be there. Not wanted him too, but needed him too. Scooped up in two arms as the concrete beam hit the floor and not me. Placed on the broken ground again in front of him. Made to look into the eyes of the man that had made me. The ice blue pools that matched my own. "Where is your mommy, sweetheart?" he was angry, but in that anger, I found the comfort and strength I needed as I looked up and pointed to the building that was once Wayne Enterprises, Metropolis Division. He pulled me in, trying to hide me from the trauma and devastation he would always be reluctant to let me be part of from that moment on. "It's okay Helena …. I promise …. you're going to be okay …." For years to come, Bruce Thomas Wayne would keep that promise to that little girl, keep her safe, sheltered and protected from the hell of Gotham. Yet in turn, it would push a giant void between father and daughter. Create an anger in him that he would never be able to control. Because, even though he had saved my life, he hadn't been there when the disaster began. No matter how fast he drove or how angry he became. The spiral began at that moment. A spiral we would try our damned hardest to save him from.

#fanfic #bvs #batfamily #batfam imagine #batfan #bruce wayne #selina kyle #helena wayne #dceu rp #dceu

[sparkvelvet75-blog]

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

Dropping in briefly today to wish you and yours joy and respite in the last few weeks of the year. December, man. So much goodness, so much heaviness, all at once. For me it’s always been a month where the decisions, assumptions, and challenges that I had convinced myself were reconciled over the year seem to make their way back up to the surface. You know what I mean, right? Those wounds you thought you’d healed, the parts of yourself you thought you’d made peace with don’t look so sparkly anymore. It’s my birthday in a few days, so I think that has more pull in the reflection carousel than the holidays, although the lines have always been blurry for me. There’s this challenge to stay light and grateful amidst those nudges to take stock after another full year.

Last week two dear friends were in a rollover accident. The truck was destroyed, and somehow they both walked away with bruises and broken fingers. It was an event that reminded me holy moses-jesus-buddha-mohammed do I still have SO much work to do in the grace and forgiveness department. It seems the minute I get too comfortable with the idea, or illusion, really, that I’m operating at acceptable levels of compassion or humility or unselfish love, life and circumstance has a way of calling my bluff and putting me on my knees again. I’m glad for that.

And so, December. Here to enjoy and embrace and remember and love one another in the best way we know how. Stitch by stitch, day by day. We try to be good humans, we fail often, but we keep trying. And that is the beautiful thing.

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tsp sugar

Pinch of salt

12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1/2 cup ice water

2 fennel bulbs, quartered

5 small-ish beets, quartered

6-8 fancy carrots, halved

2 cups butternut squash, cubed

2 tbsp olive oil

2 shallots, minced

1 cup flat leaf parsley, roughly chopped

4-6 oz crumbled Gorgonzola cheese

2 tsp Dijon mustard (or more, to your preference)

salt/pepper to taste

In a bowl, mix the flour with the sugar and salt. Using a pastry blender or your fingers, cut in half of the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Cut in the remaining butter. Pour in water then begin to mix and knead the dough until a ball forms and the mixture is no longer shaggy looking. Flatten the dough into a disk, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 F. Arrange rinsed and prepared vegetables on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and bake until the carrots are just starting to soften and are a little al dente in the thicker regions. Sprinkle with a hearty amount of sea salt, then aside and cool. In a mixing bowl, combine parsley, shallots, cooled vegetables, and a the Dijon. Stir to coat.

On a floured work surface, roll the dough out into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Begin with a spoonful of the veggie-mixture into the center of the dough. Sprinkle with Gorgonzola. Repeat layering filling and cheese until you run out of ingredients and can top with more cheese. Fold the border over your veggie-cheese tower, pleating the edge to make it fit. Finish outside exposed dough with a milk or egg wash. Bake for 30-40 minutes in the 400′ oven. Cut into wedges and serve warm.                                              

Source: http://happyolks.com/winter-vegetable-gorgonzola-galette/

[chardscarf12-blog]

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

Dropping in briefly today to wish you and yours joy and respite in the last few weeks of the year. December, man. So much goodness, so much heaviness, all at once. For me it’s always been a month where the decisions, assumptions, and challenges that I had convinced myself were reconciled over the year seem to make their way back up to the surface. You know what I mean, right? Those wounds you thought you’d healed, the parts of yourself you thought you’d made peace with don’t look so sparkly anymore. It’s my birthday in a few days, so I think that has more pull in the reflection carousel than the holidays, although the lines have always been blurry for me. There’s this challenge to stay light and grateful amidst those nudges to take stock after another full year.

Last week two dear friends were in a rollover accident. The truck was destroyed, and somehow they both walked away with bruises and broken fingers. It was an event that reminded me holy moses-jesus-buddha-mohammed do I still have SO much work to do in the grace and forgiveness department. It seems the minute I get too comfortable with the idea, or illusion, really, that I’m operating at acceptable levels of compassion or humility or unselfish love, life and circumstance has a way of calling my bluff and putting me on my knees again. I’m glad for that.

And so, December. Here to enjoy and embrace and remember and love one another in the best way we know how. Stitch by stitch, day by day. We try to be good humans, we fail often, but we keep trying. And that is the beautiful thing.

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tsp sugar

Pinch of salt

12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1/2 cup ice water

2 fennel bulbs, quartered

5 small-ish beets, quartered

6-8 fancy carrots, halved

2 cups butternut squash, cubed

2 tbsp olive oil

2 shallots, minced

1 cup flat leaf parsley, roughly chopped

4-6 oz crumbled Gorgonzola cheese

2 tsp Dijon mustard (or more, to your preference)

salt/pepper to taste

In a bowl, mix the flour with the sugar and salt. Using a pastry blender or your fingers, cut in half of the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Cut in the remaining butter. Pour in water then begin to mix and knead the dough until a ball forms and the mixture is no longer shaggy looking. Flatten the dough into a disk, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 F. Arrange rinsed and prepared vegetables on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and bake until the carrots are just starting to soften and are a little al dente in the thicker regions. Sprinkle with a hearty amount of sea salt, then aside and cool. In a mixing bowl, combine parsley, shallots, cooled vegetables, and a the Dijon. Stir to coat.

On a floured work surface, roll the dough out into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Begin with a spoonful of the veggie-mixture into the center of the dough. Sprinkle with Gorgonzola. Repeat layering filling and cheese until you run out of ingredients and can top with more cheese. Fold the border over your veggie-cheese tower, pleating the edge to make it fit. Finish outside exposed dough with a milk or egg wash. Bake for 30-40 minutes in the 400′ oven. Cut into wedges and serve warm.                                              

Source: http://happyolks.com/winter-vegetable-gorgonzola-galette/

[appletable80-blog]

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

Dropping in briefly today to wish you and yours joy and respite in the last few weeks of the year. December, man. So much goodness, so much heaviness, all at once. For me it’s always been a month where the decisions, assumptions, and challenges that I had convinced myself were reconciled over the year seem to make their way back up to the surface. You know what I mean, right? Those wounds you thought you’d healed, the parts of yourself you thought you’d made peace with don’t look so sparkly anymore. It’s my birthday in a few days, so I think that has more pull in the reflection carousel than the holidays, although the lines have always been blurry for me. There’s this challenge to stay light and grateful amidst those nudges to take stock after another full year.

Last week two dear friends were in a rollover accident. The truck was destroyed, and somehow they both walked away with bruises and broken fingers. It was an event that reminded me holy moses-jesus-buddha-mohammed do I still have SO much work to do in the grace and forgiveness department. It seems the minute I get too comfortable with the idea, or illusion, really, that I’m operating at acceptable levels of compassion or humility or unselfish love, life and circumstance has a way of calling my bluff and putting me on my knees again. I’m glad for that.

And so, December. Here to enjoy and embrace and remember and love one another in the best way we know how. Stitch by stitch, day by day. We try to be good humans, we fail often, but we keep trying. And that is the beautiful thing.

Winter Vegetable + Gorgonzola Galette

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 tsp sugar

Pinch of salt

12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1/2 cup ice water

2 fennel bulbs, quartered

5 small-ish beets, quartered

6-8 fancy carrots, halved

2 cups butternut squash, cubed

2 tbsp olive oil

2 shallots, minced

1 cup flat leaf parsley, roughly chopped

4-6 oz crumbled Gorgonzola cheese

2 tsp Dijon mustard (or more, to your preference)

salt/pepper to taste

In a bowl, mix the flour with the sugar and salt. Using a pastry blender or your fingers, cut in half of the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Cut in the remaining butter. Pour in water then begin to mix and knead the dough until a ball forms and the mixture is no longer shaggy looking. Flatten the dough into a disk, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400 F. Arrange rinsed and prepared vegetables on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and bake until the carrots are just starting to soften and are a little al dente in the thicker regions. Sprinkle with a hearty amount of sea salt, then aside and cool. In a mixing bowl, combine parsley, shallots, cooled vegetables, and a the Dijon. Stir to coat.

On a floured work surface, roll the dough out into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Begin with a spoonful of the veggie-mixture into the center of the dough. Sprinkle with Gorgonzola. Repeat layering filling and cheese until you run out of ingredients and can top with more cheese. Fold the border over your veggie-cheese tower, pleating the edge to make it fit. Finish outside exposed dough with a milk or egg wash. Bake for 30-40 minutes in the 400′ oven. Cut into wedges and serve warm.                                              

Source: http://happyolks.com/winter-vegetable-gorgonzola-galette/

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Every kid in the world is told by their parents: accidents happen. Of course, they’re usually referring to spilled milk or something of that nature, not a person accidentally getting a fully grown cow dropped on their house. That kind of thing is what we call a “freak accident,” and they tend to happen a lot more than you may think. Not all freak accidents are deadly, but a lot of them tend to be. Unless the accident is particularly bizarre, we only tend to hear about it if it involves someone dying. The term “freak accident” can range from an overturned car to…well…some of the things you’re going to read about. Many of the people involved in these accidents are no longer with us, which is unfortunate. Some of them are still alive, though, which makes their accidents even more wild. People die in car accidents every day, but a kid survived getting speared through the head? That just doesn’t seem right. Some people are just luckier than others, but this is a list that is mostly comprised of the unlucky. Sure, some people got lucky with their bad luck, but fate still put them in harm’s way to begin with.

#1 Toilet IED We’ll start this off with a relatively funny situation in which nobody died. There is a lot of death coming up, so this will serve as an appetizer for the main course. In 2013, a New York man named Michel Pierre was living in an apartment building with faulty plumbing. The water was shut off and was under maintenance. When it was turned back on, Pierre went to relieve himself. When he flushed, the toilet exploded which sent shrapnel flying. Pierre required stitches for his injuries, but the real wound was internal. According to his interviews after the incident, Pierre now uses a rope to flush the toilet from out of the room. That’s all he can do to use the thing at all anymore.

#2 Dishwasher Stabbing Home appliances aren’t playing around, and it seems as though they may have an ax to grind with their masters. This year, a 31-year-old woman was killed in Scotland when she stumbled and fell into her open dishwasher. She landed on the silverware section, and the knives that were sticking out impaled her. She was rushed to a local hospital, but died from her injuries. If everything is as it appears, then this is truly a freak accident. Apparently, the woman was a visitor at the home when the accident occurred, and the owner of the home was a reverend at a local church. He was not home at the time, and police believe there were no suspicious circumstances surrounding her death. What a way to die. This woman may have been helping her reverend unload his dishwasher when she was killed by the knives. That should teach you not to do other people’s dishes.

#3 Frozen Solid Cryotherapy is a new kind of rehabilitation therapy that is currently being used for athletes and active individuals. It works by using nitrogen to cool the chamber, which can reach as low as -265 degrees Fahrenheit. This kind of therapy is supposed to boost the immune system, prevent inflammation, and help people recover from injury. It could be the real deal, but the FDA isn’t regulating it and it hasn’t been proven as an effective treatment for anything yet. In 2015, a 24-year-old employee at a Nevada spa, named Chelsea Ake-Salvacion, decided to take a dip in the cryotherapy chamber after her shift ended. She was alone in the facility and was found the next day in the chamber, dead and completely frozen. Though it’s not entirely clear what happened to her, it is believed that she dropped her phone, reached for it, and lost consciousness. The cause of death was ruled as asphyxiation.

#4 Passed Out Behind The Wheel Motorcycle drivers are prone to devastating accidents, which is one reason why there seems to be so many road rage videos involving them. They take road safety seriously, but no amount of caution would have prevented Matthew Brealy’s accident. In 2010, Brealy was riding his motorcycle down the road at around 50 mph, when he was struck in the head by a low-flying pigeon. The impact knocked Brealy unconscious, but he didn’t fall off the bike. Instead, Brealy kept right on driving, as his unconscious body propelled the bike faster, reaching a speed of 140 mph before crashing. Brealy veered into a tree, but the crash only affected the bike and sent him flying into the road. While he suffered a broken leg, two skull fractures, and other injuries, Brealy was able to survive and rehabilitate himself.

#5 Cockroach-Eating Competition A Florida man was competing in a cockroach eating competition at a Florida (figures) pet store in 2012 when things took a turn for the worse. The competition was hosted by a local pet store, and the owner of the store put up a python for whichever person could eat the most cockroaches in a sitting. The owner of the store undoubtedly knew there would be some vomit involved, but it’s unlikely that he predicted exactly what took place. Edward Archbold, a 32-year-old contestant, was dead-set on winning the grand prize. He was well ahead of the field, but continued to stuff his face full of cockroaches to pad his lead. Unfortunately, his eyes were bigger than his stomach and he ended up choking on one of the cockroaches. Police did a toxicology on Archbold and found no drugs or alcohol in his system, meaning his death was entirely caused by a rogue cockroach that decided to take Aschbold down with him.

#6 Buried Alive Being buried alive is one of everyone’s greatest fears, and in 2015, a New Delhi man was unwittingly buried alive after a long night of drinking. The road quality in India is notoriously poor, mostly caused by the rampant monsoons in the area. Crews are routinely paving the roads and covering holes, which was the case in 2015 when this incident occurred. A crew of workers were busy covering a hole, but didn’t think to look down before they finished their work. The crew had finished their work by flattening the road with a steamroller and went home to their families. It wasn’t until the next day that someone noticed an arm sticking out of the road. Latori Barman had been buried by the crew after passing out drunk. After they left, he attempted to free himself and was almost to the top before passing out and dying. The two crew members who were in charge of the project were charged and held accountable for the man’s death.

#7 Twice Dead Being buried alive would certainly be one of the worst experiences imaginable, and Los Angeles woman Maria de Jesus Arroyo experienced something similar when she had a heart attack in 2010. She was sent to the hospital after the attack, but doctors were unable to save her life…or so they thought. Hospital officials put Maria in a body bag for the night. When they came back, they noticed something strange. The body bag had been opened part of the way, and Maria had some facial injuries that were not present during the previous day’s examination. Doctors examined the body, and soon concluded that Maria had been alive when she was stashed away. She had survived the heart attack, but died for real when she was sent to the freezer in the hospital.

#8 Lightning Strikes Twice Lightning is supposedly never supposed to strike the same place twice. That sounds like one of those things we’ve all heard but isn’t really true. Lightning is lightning. It will strike wherever and whenever it feels like striking. Sure, hitting the same spot twice in a row is unlikely, but that doesn’t mean it never happens. In 2013, Casey Wagner found out that this was an old wives’ tale the hard way, and walked away to tell about it. Wagner was seeking refuge from a storm and ended up standing under a tree. Everyone knows that trees and other tall objects are the first place to hide in the event of a lightning storm. That’s storm-hiding 101. Well, the tree got hit by lightning, sending Wagner to the ground. The understanding of what had happened barely sunk in when the second bolt of lightning struck him in the foot. Depending if you’re a glass half-empty or half-full kind of person, Wagner can be considered lucky that he walked away with his life, though a strong case could be made for him having terrible luck.

#9 Vengeful Fish Some Tanzanian fisherman were out for out for a routine day of catching perege one day in 2016, but no one could expect the tragedy that was about to take place. The men were fishing and dumping their catches in the boat at their feet. Many of the fish were still alive, but the fishermen kept on adding to their plunder. The fish that were still living were flopping around in the boat, as fish normally do. One of the fish got some serious air, and found its way into one of the fisherman’s (Robert Mwaijega’s) mouth. The fish continued to wiggle until it maneuvered its way down the man’s throat and into his chest. His buddies tried to help, but there was nothing they could do but watch. Mwaijega made it to the hospital and was about to undergo life-saving surgery, but died shortly after from asphyxiation. The doctors still removed the fish from his chest after his death. No one in the village had seen anything like this, but it will undoubtedly be a cautionary tale to other fishermen in the area.

#10 Trashy Commute No one likes the commute home from work. It’s slow and painstaking, and everyone just wants to get home and unload. One 27-year-old New Jersey man was killed on his way home from work just this week. He was sitting in gridlocked traffic when a garbage truck fell from the sky and crushed him. Brian Claussen of Old Bridge was waiting for his turn to move another five feet, when a garbage truck landed on his car, crushing him and killing him instantly. The truck was entering the Route 9 south ramp, which crosses over the Route 9 bridge to Sayreville, which is where Claussen was waiting in traffic. The truck tipped over and off of the ramp, landing on Claussen’s car and killing him. If you end up making it home this afternoon, count yourself lucky when you sit down and have a beer. That was likely Claussen’s last wish.

#11 Free Bodywork It’s a bit underrated how dangerous the road can be. Driving in a car is one of the most dangerous things people can do on a daily basis, so it should come as no surprise that some bizarre crashes can take place. James Crawford learned this in 2012 when he was driving his van on the New Jersey Turnpike. There was a construction on the side of the road, and the man maneuvering a steel beam on his crane wasn’t quite on-the-ball. The beam hovered over traffic, and came low enough to rip the entire roof off of Crawford’s van. Miraculously, Crawford was able to pull over and wait for a tow truck after the ordeal. He had some minor injuries, including a broken thumb, but was able to walk away from the crash without any nicks that were too substantial.

#12 It’s Raining Cows There are a lot of things to worry about when you lay down to sleep at night, but no one is lying awake with the thought of a cow plunging through their ceiling and killing them. For Brazilian man Joao Maria de Souza, though, this absurd hypothetical thought became a reality. In 2013, Joao was sleeping in his bed with his wife. Their house was built next to a steep hill. Apparently, a cow escaped from a local farm that night. The cow climbed the hill and somehow made it to the victim’s roof. Cows are pretty heavy, and Joao’s roof wasn’t that strong. The roof gave way and dropped the 3,000-pound cow on top of Joao. He didn’t die instantly, but perished in the hospital the next day. Surprisingly, his wife, who was sleeping next to him at the time, escaped unscathed.

#13 Heavy Traffic In 2013, on her way home from college, Morgan Lake was sitting in traffic on the Chesapeak Bay Bridge. Suddenly, she saw a tractor-trailer barreling down on her with no time to stop. She braced for impact and was propelled forward into the barrier. The truck wasn’t done with her yet, as it hit her car a second time, sending it up and over the three-foot-tall barrier and into the water below. Her car was badly damaged by the time it reached the water, meaning the car sunk immediately. Water was rushing in through the broken windows, but Lake was able to keep her composure long enough to escape. She held her breath, unbuckled her seat belt, climber out her broken window, and swam to safety. Lake (who’s name has a hint of irony to it) was lucky to escape with her life, and only had a few cuts and bruises.

#14 Swallowed By The Escalator Parents are always warning their children about the dangers of untied shoes and wandering fingers on escalators, but few could predict the type of danger one woman faced in a Chinese mall. In 2015, 30-year-old Xiang Liujuan was at the mall with her two-year-old son. She was riding the escalator down, but when she reached the bottom, the panel gave way, sending her falling into the deadly gears of the machine. She was able to toss her young son to safety, but it was too late for her. Liujuan was chewed up and killed by the machine in front of her son and other onlookers. It took rescue officials hours before they were able to remove her body from the escalator. Apparently, the workers who had been repairing the escalator had failed to properly secure the bottom panel after they were finished working. This woman’s death is something that these workers will have to live with for the rest of their lives.

#15 Spear Through The Head This story needed no hyperbole in the title, as it’s probably the weirdest and most dangerous entry on this list. As we’ve seen, people have perished on far less deadly accidents, but this Florida man was an exception. In 2012, Yasser Lopez went spear fishing with a few of his buddies. Lopez seems to have blocked part of the story out in his mind, but the main point is that a spear ended up lodged in the 16-year-old’s skull. Lopez was still conscious when he got to the hospital, and doctors were able to tell that the spear went directly through the kid’s head. It hadn’t fully exited, but the medical professionals could feel it pushing against the back of his skull. Lopez lost some motor function for a while after the incident, but survived and was able to make a full recovery (though he still has little memory of how the spear got there in the first place).

Source: TheRichest

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