#learned that egg waffle is interesting but not my thing :V

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Happy birthday

Masterlist

A/N: In honor of the birthday of my loveliest non-rodent bestie @geralts-yenn, I gave Mike access to a can of whipped cream. I shouldn't have. So if you're someone who strongly opposes inappropriate uses of dairy products, I'd sit this one out...

Pairing: Mike (Hellraiser) x reader

Summary: Mike makes you breakfast on your birthday...

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. Food play, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, shower sex, fingering (f receiving), semi-facial... I think that's all?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @littlefreya

“Happy birthday, baby.” Oh, it’s a happy birthday for sure; the sight of Mike in nothing but an apron never gets old. It doesn’t happen often... only every Sunday when he finally manages to leave your tits alone and crawl out of bed to make you breakfast. Normally it’s pancakes, or eggs and bacon, or a grilled cheese, but today it’s waffles. With more whipped cream than any person should reasonably consume in a month. Unless you’re Mikey.

“Mike, are there…” He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he puts two fresh waffles on a plate, throws on some fruit, a drizzle of honey and a sensible amount of whipped cream.

“There you go.” He knows you well.

“Mike, seriously?” You can barely see his second helping of waffles under all the whipped cream anymore, and he’s adding more?

“Yeah? You want some?” He grins widely as he holds out the can to you and accidentally presses down, sending an unsolicited stream of whipped cream your way. It hits you in the face, then drops down, straight into your cleavage. Accident, you say? We think not.

“Mike!” Too late, he’s already on his feet, rounding the table to get to you.

“I’ll get that!” And, of course, he dives face-first between your tits to ‘retrieve’ the rogue topping. You’ve just stepped out of the shower, so you’re – conveniently for him – not wearing anything but your short satin bathrobe, which he pulls open immediately. Mike makes a show of lapping up the spilled whipped cream before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Mike, the whipped cream is gone,” you sigh, trying to get him to stop so you can eat, but you missed one tiny little detail; he’s brought the can. You hear the tell-tale sound before you really realize what’s happening – and what’s happening is Mike covering your other boob in even more whipped cream.

“There’s some over there,” he mutters against your skin before diligently getting to work. You sigh deeply at your extremely silly boyfriend, who ever so selflessly helps you clean up the mess he just made. The worst part is: his tongue against your skin doesn’t exactly leave you cold, and you can already feel heat pooling between your legs, and you glare at Mike and his smug, content grin as he continues to make a mess of your chest.

It's impossible not to give in to his touch: his enthusiasm is infectious as always, and you learned a long time ago that it’s in no one’s best interest to deny yourself the wonderful things he has in store for you just because you think it’s silly. ‘Silly’ came pre-installed with Mike, and there’s no denying it hasn’t been a life-changing experience – usually for the better.

When you first started dating him, you always found yourself coming up with excuses, and while they sometimes still pop up – especially when Mike once again seems to think he can squeeze an hour in fifteen minutes and you have dinner reservations or, God forbid, a plane to catch – you mostly know his reactions by now. ‘You’re making a mess’: ‘We have a shower.’ ‘I just took a shower’: ‘Another one isn’t going to bankrupt us.’ ‘Breakfast is getting cold’: Fuck breakfast. Actually, more like ‘breakfast fuck’.

Your own thoughts make you chuckle – as you always do when you catch yourself thinking like Mike – and a smile finally breaks through your frown, to which Mike responds by flashing you a triumphant grin. In one smooth movement, he gets up and pulls you up from your chair. It’s easy to forget how fast he is when properly motivated.

He drags you to your bedroom and tosses you on the bed, and as he does, you briefly remember that you said something the day before about changing the sheets, but Mike had protested the boring task until you’d given up. Had he actually been planning ahead? Maybe you were rubbing off on him in some ways, too? A chuckle escapes you when you look at Mike, standing at your feet at the side of the bed. He’s still wearing the apron, which does nothing to hide his boner. It looks hilarious, even though you know more than well enough that what’s so poorly concealed underneath the loose fabric is no laughing matter.

Your tumble to the mattress had provided your bathrobe with the final nudge to come mostly undone, and Mike grins as he lets his gaze glide over your now mostly naked body. It makes his cock twitch, causing you to laugh again, only to stop when you see Mike’s eyes narrow. One sharp tug at the string behind his back takes care of the apron, and then he practically jumps you. No, scratch that, he literally jumps you.

Straddling your thighs, he leans forward and kisses you all over your face and neck, his lips still sticky from the whipped cream. Then, he moves away, giving himself room to create an artful path of even more sugary goodness down your chest and stomach that he happily follows moments later, slowly making his way down your body. He licks, teases, sometimes abandoning his pre-determined path to leave little love bites on your skin. You don’t bother trying to stay still ‘so the whipped cream doesn’t get everywhere’ – it’s already everywhere, and it’s great. Until…

“Mike, no!” You stop him just in time. Yeast infections make for very poor birthday presents.

Mike pouts, then shrugs as he licks his lips, and reaches for the discarded apron to wipe his hands and face with so much pageantry that you crack up again, but your laughter dies down quickly when he hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, sending a shiver of anticipation cascading through your body. Luckily, Mike isn’t exactly famous for his patience, and his sticky exploration was all the teasing he could muster.

He gets a good taste of you, running his impatient tongue along the length of your slit a few times before settling at your clit, blue eyes staring up at you as a near-continuous stream of content moans emerges from him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he likes this just as much as you do, and you’re definitely loving every second of it.

You’ve taught him well. He knows exactly what he’s doing, taking his cue from the sounds you make to work you up to the edge of ecstasy in no time – keeping you there for as long as he can manage. He loves to watch you cum. It’s something you’ve always adored about him, and not just because it means you’re regularly on the receiving end of some really good head – although you wouldn’t dream of complaining about that. The biggest part of it is that he’s really taken the time to figure you out, and as a result, he now knows you inside and out. True, your brains don’t always operate on exactly the same wavelength, but you both try. For each other.

And right now, Mike is trying – really hard – to suck your soul out through your pussy.

A happy hum escapes him when you tangle your hand in his hair and pull him closer, and one tactical roll of your hips pulls you over the edge. Of course, he doesn’t stop there. Because he loves to tease you a little after you cum. Mike, if left unattended, will overstimulate you until you can’t see straight. It takes a few playful yet firm smacks to the top of his head to get him to stop.

Without hesitation, you grab his chin and pull him towards you. A fierce push lands him on his back on the bed, and he looks at you, his eyes glistening hopefully and a wide, dopey grin spreading on his face. It’s your turn – and he can’t wait.

In fact, he’s so impatient, that he’s taken it upon himself to retrieve the can of whipped cream and before you can protest, he puts a bit of it on the tip of his cock while shooting you a daring glance. You wait a beat before leaning down and carefully suck the whipped cream off his cock – without touching him. He pouts and reapplies for a second try – which ends the same way. Another attempt…

You relish the long, frustrated whine that he lets out, and chuckle when he changes his approach. This time, the whole underside of his cock is subjected to the whipped cream treatment. You laugh. Does he think you don’t have the patience to keep teasing him the same way? Slowly, you crawl back until your face is between his thighs, where you playfully nip and lap at his legs before moving up. With the tip of your tongue, you lightly trace a line over his balls, and when you get to the base of his cock… Son of a bitch!

You’re silent for a beat, then laugh. “Mike, what?” you manage after a moment. Mike – in his infinite wisdom – decided he had enough of your teasing, and apparently thought it was a good idea to slap you in the face with his cock. Result? Whipped cream everywhere.

It takes him a moment to join you in your laughter, which dies down again almost immediately, when you rip the can from his hands and attack him with its contents. Of course, he retaliates, and you wrestle each other until the can is empty and you’re both sticky, out of breath and dying of laughter.

“We’re supposed to be adults,” you sigh after a while, when you’ve sort of managed to stop laughing.

“Oh, I’ve been opting out of that for years,” Mike responds with a smile. “We might want to get cleaned up though.”

After carefully moving your sticky sheets to the washing machine – which is quite a journey, since you’re simultaneously trying to keep the rest of the house as un-sticky as possible – you make your way over to the shower. As always, your ritual begins with a quick squabble over the water temperature, followed by a long hug as you let the water begin to wash away the last traces of your food fight. Soon, Mike gets squirmy, running his hands over your back and sides, burying his face in your neck so he can kiss you until you’re moaning in his arms, and having a little too much fun with the sound his hands make when he smacks your wet ass.

You’re subjected to a very thorough removal of all things whipped cream – especially your chest. Of course, it’s only fair you return the favor. Right? He squirms and moans as you run your hand over his hard cock, the other hand at his neck so you can pull him into a deep kiss. It takes him a lot less time to be convinced that his dick is clean than it did to convince him that your boobs were, that’s for sure. Not that any of that surprises you.

Without warning, he turns you around, pulling you flush against his chest while his hand travels down your front. A quiet moan when he dips his fingers into your pussy tells you what you already knew; you’re not done with him just yet. And he’s not done with you, or so it seems, because he picks up his rigorous cleaning regimen from before.

Then, you hear a hum that lets you know he has an idea – and you don’t like it one bit. His fingers slip out of you, while his other hand reaches for the showerhead.

“Mike…” you warn – you don’t even know why. You know you’re on board with this, he knows you’re on board with this… It’s a good thing this man hardly ever listens to a word you say, really. He pushes you towards the wall until you stop yourself with your hands, then pulls your hips back. You spread your legs a little to give him easier access while he slips two fingers into you from behind – his other hand aims the shower head at your clit.

Even like this, he knows what he’s doing, and it doesn’t take long until your legs tremble and your cries bounce off the tiles. His fingers brush past your g-spot time after time, and he takes you apart in record time.

“Fuck!” You grab the shower head from his hand when you cum and pull it away from where he was holding it between your legs, not just because the feeling of the water is overwhelming, but also because – in the past – a shower head may or may not have died because Mike decided he needed to fuck you right that second and dropped the damn thing.

“That’s the idea, Sweetcheeks,” he chuckles. You barely have any time to put the shower head back before Mike sinks into you from behind. You can’t hold back a moan, and Mike can’t hold back anything. “Fuck yeah,” he mutters under his breath, nuzzling your neck as he pulls back and slams back into you.

He’s rough in his enthusiasm, and definitely unburdened by anything resembling patience, and you’re a trembling mess, bracing yourself against the cool tiles. You throw your hips back, meeting his thrusts, while you try to control your moans at least a little – and fail miserably.

Mike’s hands move away from your hips, snaking around you as he moves closer to you, bending towards you until his chest rests against your back, and his movements slow down. “I love you, baby,” he mutters in your ear as he grinds his hips into you. Again, you mirror his movements, leaning your head against his and sighing deeply. Before you can protest, his lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks on your skin as if his life depends on it.

“Mike!” you hiss, barely suppressing a laugh. It works; he stops – but judging from the sheepish laugh that escapes him, the damage has already been done.

“Mine.” He nips at your earlobe before moving away from you again, grabbing your hips harshly, digging his fingertips into your flesh. You smile through your moans as you listen to the pretty little sounds he makes as he works himself closer to the finish line. God, he’s cute… “Turn around, please?” You can’t see the puppy eyes, but you know they’re there. Apparently, he’s not done making a mess of you.

You turn around and carefully sink to your knees. It’s not hard to guess what he wants – his love of holding your boobs is second only to his love of cumming all over them, which is exactly what he’s about to do. A very nice bonus is that you get a nice close-up of him jerking off before he does. It’s mesmerizing to see the way he moves his hand over his cock, the twitching of his abs, how his eyes are closed in concentration as his entire vocabulary is reduced to the word ‘fuck’, his hand reaching for the wall behind you for support…

You’re barely in time to close your eyes when he explodes – his aim is never perfect, but today he's not even trying. Thick ropes of cum land on your face and chest, and you’re already having fun with the thought of how much he’s going to love the view when he opens his eyes.

He lets out a groan when he does, and finds you staring up at him. “Pretty,” he moans as he reaches for your arm to pull you up, “so fucking pretty with my cum all over your face…” He pulls you up and pushes you against the wall, crashing his mouth against yours and practically forcing his tongue into your mouth – no malicious intent, just the greedy impatience of a man with zero impulse control.

“Let’s get cleaned up and finish breakfast,” you laugh when you push him off of you after a while.

“Can’t, we’re out of whipped cream…”

#mike hellraiser fic #mike x ofc #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) #mike hellraiser smut #hellraiser mike smut #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

[lovemesomesurveys]

Have you ever gotten lost while on a road trip? Wait, this is going to sound really stupid but I just had a thought after reading this question: what exactly constitutes a road trip? You know what I mean, like I’ve been on long car rides, some were like 12 hours, but were those road trips or just long car rides? I feel like a road trip is specific thing. lmao, this is dumb but I’ve really never thought of it before now and I’m curious.

When did you last have some lemonade? I honestly have no idea. It’s been a very, very long time.

Who is your celebrity crush? Alexander Skarsgard.

If you had to choose a random color to dye your hair, what would you choose? I’d love to dye my hair red again. I really miss it.

What do you do when you feel restless? Well, that’s the hard part isn’t it? Feeling restless and trying to figure out what to do.

Do you take a lot of pictures of sunrises/sunsets? No.

Do you like the color orange? Sure.

Are you currently wearing a watch? No. I have no idea when the last time I wore a watch was.

When did you last have cereal? It’s been several years. Cereal does sound good.

What last made you anxious? My anxiety disorder.

What is something you were surprised to learn? I never knew until recently that Hawaii is actually pronounced like “Ha-va-ee.” Like, their “W” sounds like a “V.” I thought that was interesting.

Do you get flu vaccinations every year? No. I’ve never gotten one, actually.

Have you ever been on a doubledate? Yes.

What radio station do you listen to most? I haven’t listened to the radio in years.

Have you ever shunned a family member or vice versa? Not that extreme, but I’ve become very distant from certain family members and don’t have a relationship with them.

Favorite shade of blue? I love various shades of blue.

Favorite soup? French onion soup.

Do you like mangoes? No.

Do you prefer pancakes or waffles? Waffles, for sure.

If you create music playlists, what is the title of the last one you made? I don’t recall. I really just add all my songs to my main “Starred” playlist.

Would you or have you ever traveled to China? I haven’t, but I wouldn’t turn down a trip.

What's your height? Like 5′4.

What color do you wear most often? Black.

When taking a shower, do you turn on the water before getting in? Yes. I’m not trying to freeze my ass off.

What do you want most? To get better. Like to the point where I’m able to do things and more sense of independence. I miss traveling so much. Hell, I miss just going to the fucking grocery store.

What is an overused word you hear a lot? “Like.”

What do you currently hear? “Candy Rain” by Soul For Real.

What were the last 3 things you ate? Cream of Wheat, a couple pieces of toast, and a mini Reese’s shaped egg.

When did you last take a selfie? Gahhh, it’s been quite awhile. Too scary.

How is your mental health? It kicks my ass.

How much water do you drink in a day? I get pretty close to 8 glasses.

What are you thankful for currently? My family.

What animal do you think is the ugliest? Well, that’s mean.

If applicable, would you quit your job if you won the lottery? I don’t have a job, so see ya suckas! ha.

What is your favorite sleeping position? I sleep slightly turned to my left.

What are 3 scents you like? Patchouli, sandalwood, and cedar wood.

Have you ever thrown someone a surprise party? No.

What's an unpopular opinion you have politically? Bleh.

What's a type of cheese or cheese alternative that you enjoy? Oooh, I love various types of cheeses.

What is a kid activity that you would still do now as an adult? I love to color. In an adult coloring book, thank you very much. Haha. I’d still color in a kid’s one, too, let’s be real.

Do you like the scent of fresh cut grass? Meh.

If you were to go to a Disney themed costume party, what would you dress up as? Probably Alice. I actually already have the dress.

What is an ability you believe everyone should have? Uhhh.

What is the first thing you do after coming home from a trip? I’m someone who likes to unpack right away and not let shit sit in suitcases forever.

Name a song that's fun to sing along to. There’s a lot of those.

Do you know how your parents met? I do. They worked together at the time.

Do you believe love is blind? Sometimes. I think we can overlook certain things and be in denial.

Have you ever made a bet and lost? Yeah. Nothing serious, though.

If you owned a restaurant, what would you serve? *shrug* I’d want like a cozy cafe style vibe.

What's the fanciest event you've ever attended? I haven’t been to any fancy events.

What food tastes better than its appearance? I know meat can look off putting. I’m a picky meat eater (and eater in general) and yeah some of it might not be the best appearance wise.

Do you actively post on social media? On my main Tumblr I do. I’ve slowed down a lot on this survey blog, sadly. It feels like everyone has. I want to get it goin again

Do you believe in horoscopes? Nope.

What's a hobby you would like to get into? I think diamond art looks cool. I just know I don’t have the patience or focus ability for it.

Would you take the opportunity to become immortal? I don’t want to see all my loved ones die.

Do you experience intrusive thoughts? Sometimes. I think we all do.

What is a movie that makes you laugh? I think the last movie I watched was Meghan, ha. It had some chuckle moments.

What is the best name you've heard an animal named? I mean, my doggo, Princess Leia, is pretty dope.

Do you keep track of how many steps you take? No.

What's something that isn't really needed that you would not want to live without? Internet.

What would you name a yacht if you had one? I have no idea.

Morbid, I apologize. How do you think you'll die? Something health related.

What's something embarrassing you've said to someone? Gah, who knowsssss.

If you could have anything in a store for free, which store would you choose? I’d love to get a new MacBook.

For 1 day, what animal would you choose to be? A doggo.  They seem so happy and just like to like chill.

What woke you up this morning? My body naturally woke itself up.

Would you rather have many hobbies or 1 true passion? Hm. That’s actually a tough one. Many hobbies sounds fun, I like the variety. However, if I have my true passionate I’m like pretty much set, ya know? I found the thing I love and want to do and I imagine it would keep me busy.

I feel like every school has one. What was a school scandal your town's school had? Meh.

Do you save or spend more money? I’ve gotten a lot better with saving. I gotta give my hospital stay last year and the continued bedrest at home since then the credit for that. I’m not going anywhere and I’m kinda just cycling through a few of my shirts cause of comfortability and convenience factors. So, I’m not wearing much of my wardrobe at all right now, which sucks and also means I certainly don’t need any new clothes. It’s hard to get into looking at accessories and shoes as well cause again--not going anywhere. I miss shopping. :(

Do you listen to podcasts? I only watch this one, called, “Foolish Mortals”, and it’s Disney related stuff. I just really enjoy two cohosts and their own YouTube channels as well. They seem like cool dudes.

What is your favorite dish to cook? I don’t cook. I don’t even make ramen anymore.

If you have pets, what would you ask them if they could speak? Oh my goodness, soooo many things.

How do you deal with stress? Not well.

What compliment did you last receive? *shrug*

If you were president, what's one thing you'd change about your country? I absolutely would never like to be president. Ever.

Would you rather get a facial or massage? Maybe a facial.

If you were offered a super bowl ad, would you create a commercial and what would it be like? --

When did you last feel an adrenaline rush? It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt that.

Who is tallest in your family? My dad and brother.

What's the oldest article of clothing you own look like? They’re my high school class shirts.

When did you last mess something up? Oh buddy, I’ve been messing shit up for a very long time.

Do you write in a journal? This is it.

What's something you're confident in? Nothing...

Have you ever received a strange gift? Nah.

Do you currently have a headache? Not at the moment.

What's something you have on your bucket list? I want to travelllllllll.

#personal #text #surveys #survey

[salamispots]

elderly asian man that reminded me a bit of my grandpa

#purely personals #comic #sequential #artists on tumblr #made me a tiny bit sad/wistful? #like...sorta sucks when your grandparents are continents away and you rarely see them/talk to them #and when they pass away there's this weird like...sad? but also weirdly detached because again a world away #didn't have the chance to spend time with them #but my grandpa was super sweet/always kind to us #he liked collecting stamps #what do you mean I may or may not have spent extra money because I was subconsciously reminded of my grandpa #muffled laugh #learned that egg waffle is interesting but not my thing :V #but I do wanna try the sweet tofu next time

[datingdonovan]

Yeah it was pretty fun but a v big shock from coasting through social psych (I started as a psych major) to suddenly taking organic chemistry and microbiology. But lmao you’re probably more interested in the food labs. They were actually a lot of fun and that’s where I met most of my friends in the major bc you had to work in teams. The first lab I took was great and each week we cooked a diff food type (meat, grains, bread, dessert, etc). But some were ROUGH. Like one cooking lab was purely experimental so it was things like… let’s put MSG in chocolate chip cookies and see what it tastes like (funky) and let’s test your salt tolerance !! Another lab was abt the workings of large scale food production so we had to make a themed meal for 200 people so working out the mechanics (like production schedules and recipe scaling) was fun for me bc that’s how my brain works but when the day actually came, I was screaming + crying while making 200 waffles on 5 waffle irons lmaooo. An iconic memory is during one of my finals, we had to demonstrate a bunch of techniques like poaching an egg (we only got one egg and they drew a smiley face on it to make us feel better ig), baking a tart, etc. anyway I made my tart and put it in the fridge to set. When I went to get it, I dropped it on the floor lmao. My professor deadass said “do you wanna sit by the fridge for a few minutes?” She even let me pull out my phone to take pics ❤️. I could fr talk abt this whack major for hours if you ever wanna know anything. Though since I was a late transfer, I didn’t rlly have time for electives so I also wanna ask about your major and if it was a good time. Bc a lot of the English classes looked really cool but had prerequisites that I had NO time to take. I was stuck taking like… animal domestication with a woman who gave us her landline number. -the Gemini™️

omggg I feel like taking organic chemistry sounds sounds terrible!!!! what the heck I heard that class was terribly hard lol. also omg noooo your tart <3 and the waffle thing is hilarious this is very weird but I was actually in 2 clubs that always had waffle events and/or fundraisers (terrible to admit but one of them sort of copied the other when they saw how hype people got over it hahahahaha) so I do understand the pain of making way too many waffles with very little infrastructure hahahahahaha omg. and aaaa transferring that must have been intense to have so little time to finish your major! on my end my best friend and I used to joke that by the end of college we could basically have double majored in English and English hahahahah I was always messing up my schedule taking more English classes I didn't really need for the major, I just took them for fun hahaha. I think ive said this before but I also got to dabble a lot in related stuff. I think honestly it would have been cool to minor in one of those things but hahahahaha I did not. the minors felt weirdly rigid to me, like you'd have to complete so many random boring classes just to get that certification. like I think I probably took at least half the number of film classes to get the minor, but because you had to take all these specific time periods/types of classes, I'd have had to take way more than what I did to actually qualify for the minor lol. same with linguistics sorta, like I started to do the minor and then just didn't want to take certain classes I found boring lol, so I awkwardly had a few ling classes but not enough to really be super meaningful I guess. but I like that honestly bc it means that I know a little bit about a lot of liberal artsy things. not that I can speak well on them or anything but, I did learn them hahahaha

#ask #asks #the gemini™️ #long post #english major

[healthyworthyofficial]

Sugar-Free & Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch

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Home-made Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch – no sugars!

Grain-free cinnamon crunch is a game-changer. Adults and children alike fall in love with this wholesome pantry recipe and is the right antidote to sugary cereals/granolas within the morning. P Prep Time10 minutes Cook Time30 minutes Total Time40 minutes Course: Breakfast, Lunch packing containers, Snacks Diet: Dairy Free, Gluten Free, Grain free, LCHF, Low Carb, No Sugars, Paleo, Wheat Free Diet: Diabetic, Gluten Free Keyword: Grain-free granola, Homemade granola recipe Total Carbs: 6.9g Fibre: 5g InstructionsNutty Base Place all of the nuts, seeds and coconut in an enormous baking dish then pour over the cinnamon crunch. Mix gently with a serving spoon. Bake at 180C/350F for 30 minutes however you MUST flip the combination over each 3-Four minutes to keep away from the coconut from burning. You don't want an costly mistake in your palms. Adjust your oven in line with how briskly it's cooking. Store in an hermetic container within the fridge. Will maintain for 3-Four weeks. Sotre within the freezer for as much as Three months. Want to begin low-carb FAST?Grab your FREE 5-day meal plan, pantry information, procuring checklist & tracker CLICK HERE NotesNutrition values will fluctuate extensively for this recipe relying on which seed/nuts you add and the way a lot. Use the vitamin panel as a information solely. I've calculated the values utilizing a 1/2 cup (43g) however will rely on how a lot you utilize for breakfast (possibly extra) or as a dessert on berries (possibly much less). Nutrition Facts Home-made Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch – no sugars! Amount Per Serving (43 g) Calories 258 Calories from Fat 220 % Daily Value* Fat 24.4g38% Carbohydrates 6.9g2% Fiber 5g21% Sugar 0.4g0% Protein 6g12% * Percent Daily Values are primarily based on a 2000 calorie food plan. NEED MORE HELP?Ditch The Carbs PRO – your low-carb course PLUS the FAMOUS mini-challenges that cease you falling again into previous habits – JOIN US Cookbooks & Meal PlansTake the stress out of cooking, all of the assets you’ll ever want – SHOW ME Need assist, suggestions & tips?Join our pleasant SUPPORT GROUP to assist assist and information you and your loved ones to stay low-carb for all times!

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[iphoenixrising]

Not the original Justice is Blind anon, but man, I really like that verse. Hopefully more of it will sneak out of the old brain pan. :D

Hi babe. Ah, it’s such an interesting idea, like the logistics behind being a vigilante, and just! Yeah. So here’s a thing for your loves @satire-please will probably throw down about the Black Bird.

**

4

Getting out of Wayne Manor proved to bemore of a pain in the ass than he initially thought it should be. Most of his life, he’s had little adult supervision, fewpeople telling him when and where to go, or if he can’t. Really, Bruce was the first adult to set complicated rules,to hold him back or push him forward (you know, when he was that Robin), but even then, he still had freedom to movewithout restraints. If he needed to hit crime scenes, information sources,track baddies, and later, meet with his allies, his teams, he just went. Hemight shoot B a text, leave a note or something, but he was rarely hindered.

This? One of those rare times.

“We justgot you back from the League of Assassins,” B is arguing, trying to soundreasonable.

Ruffle of a newspaper, a sharp snap, but B isn’t really reading it, noteven skimming, there’s no shift of a thumb over the edges like when he’sconcentrating.

“I already had a way out and othercontingencies. Explosions, remember?” He deadpans, arms crossed over his chest(and since when did it feel odd to be talking to B without a mask orcowl on? When did he start getting an itch of discomfort being in the Manor?…Oh, right, since he’s fucking riff raff).“It’s not like I don’t appreciate Bat intervention, Bruce, I do. Thank-you forcoming, but I have other things that need attention—” Please let me just leavewithout fighting—not in front of Damian and Dick.

“And I am to assume,” Alfred Pennyworthbegins from a few feet by his right side, close to the buffet, smell of coffee,eggs, waffles, and something sharper,probably juice, “these things aremore pressing than a hardy breakfast, Master Timothy?”

Movement, soft steps, a slight heel onthe shoe against the carpet, stronger scent of coffee, warmth of body heat.Without a hitch, he holds out a hand and moves his face only slightly towardAlfred as the saucer fills his palm with a whole lot of familiar. His thumb maps out the engraved vines in the saucer, theW in the center while his first finger automatically dips over the rim of themug, checks how full it is before he lifts it to his mouth for a sip, and just—

God,Alfred coffee is like no coffee ever made.

(And no, he’s not thinking about the room upstairs that’s still his apparently or that Alfred remembershow he likes his coffee—nope, not goingto think about it. Not at all.)

“Crime never stops, Alfred,” hecounters, feeling the heat of gazes on him, standing by the long dining roomtable, in the t-shirt and sweats he woke up wearing (new, not borrowed?), bare feet and face, histoo-long hair probably still a mess with only some water and fingers to runthrough it.

“Perhaps not, young Sir, but itcertainly has a nutritious breakfast beforeplotting sundry nefarious deeds.”

He chuffs a laugh, holding the cup andsaucer. “This is all the breakfast I need, thanks anyway. I need to get back tomy Perch and check on the analysis I have running.”

Another sharp snap of the paper,rustling of it being folded, laid down (close to Dick’s left hand as usual).His empty gaze swings back to Bruce automatically, a Robin action that makes him pause because isn’t this little situation familiar—

Going over his cases with Bruce at thebreakfast table, giving out the details, working through the evidence andsuspects with him, Dick joining them whenever he was in from the ‘Haven. The twoor three of them breaking all the aspects down, looking for the hiddensubtleties, picking crime scenes apart, looking over photographs and analysisresults, circling the dining room table with cups of coffee and a bite of eggor waffle while they muse aloud to one another, while they work together—

It’s a whole lot of nostalgia right here, one that makes hischest tight (because they helped himalong the road to being a detective, to being a vigilante he could be proud of, and like it was all supposedto come back in some crazy kind of circle, here the fuck he is again).

“I can connect the big computer to yoursystem if you want the answers now.” Bruce gives him a way without making it seem so in a way that’s just so Bruce—pushing what he wantsindirectly (Clark has finally gotten as good at reading into it as he has),only pressuring when it’s necessary.

“Isolated V-LAN,” he answers softly,gaze pointing in the direction of Bruce’s voice, “it’s not on a network.” Andif he relaxes a little, just a little—

“If… it is a matter of—” Damian’s voicecuts in, makes his shoulders draw up on some long-established instinct (youknow, being thrown through glasscases and such) even though he’d known the current Robin was there because ofthe sweet musk and patchouli scent underlying Dick’s subtle aftershave, “—howyou must eat, Pennyworth and I have completed research to ascertain the mostappropriate methods of preparation and presentation.”

And here’s the part where he reallyshouldn’t ask any questions, at all.He should put the cup and saucer down, go back upstairs, take the shortcut ventdown to the Cave, find his cowl, and peaceright the fuck right.  

But again, should.

“…research.  About how I eat.” He says it slowly, notreally questions there, but the shifting, creaking, material on wood, theshifts of knees under the table cloth—

“Common practices to cook for thevisually impaired,” Damian explains in a careful, measured tone.

Dick, in his usual place at Bruce’sright hand, pauses in taking in everything (because Tim is back in the Manor)turns only slightly, eyebrows drawn, “you knew.You knew and you didn’t tell me. I’m so disappointed in you right now.”

The sound of cloth moving is theyoungest Robin shrugging, “I was aware, yes. It was, however, not my place totell you. Not without Drake’s permission.”

“Oh? But you could tell Alfred?”

The responding noise is anasty-sounding tt. “Pennyworth is thekeeper of the Bats, Grayson. Of course he must know. You, on the other hand,would poison Drake with your idea of cuisine.”

“I’m insulted, Dami. Tim likes my spaghetti and meatballs!”

And yes, actually, yes he did. Dick usedto put a little sugar in his sauce, just like Mrs. Mac.

Tim sighs softly as they banter backand forth (Robin and his Batman),holding the saucer and cup in the thumb and forefinger of one hand while theother massages the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wants right now is tobe thrown in the middle of their family breakfast—wrong Robin, remember?

“Thanks for looking out, Damian.” Heinterrupts their back-and-forth, catching the irritated tapping of Bruce’sfinger against his own cup and saucer. And, well, maybe he’d been somewhat anxious about trying to eat with all ofthem watching him, assessing, but that was really just a secondary reason. “Butno, I’m fine. Eating isn’t a problem.” Beingup in the Manor, in my old room isthe problem.

“Just working a case before the Leagueof Assassins came calling?” Dick asks, playing the more blatant card ofBruce’s.

Gingerly, he puts the saucer down onthe table, still ignoring the chair he knows is empty on Bruce’s left, has nointention of taking it up again.

“It’s something I need to get back to,”he replies instead, tone carefully empty because Dick and whatever crazy plan must be going through his head.

“Tim. You don’t have to go,” and it’s the tone of voice when alljoking aside. “Back at Ra’s place, we were serious—”

Sure.“Again, I appreciate the sentiment.”

He turns on his heel, finding thematter settled, and if he hadn’t spent most of his life here, had learned all the ins and outs of Wayne Manor early onduring long spans of crime solving, pacing all over the first floor, he’d havea hand on the wall to guide himself out.

As is, he doesn’t need it (and well, there’s a lot of things he doesn’tneed at this stage of the game), and can take the stairs, can find his old roomagain by muscle memory alone. His phone, previously left on the dresser (oldhabit—don’t think about how Bruce rememberedthat), talks when he hits the main button, an application he made himself.

“How can I assist you?”

“Activate Black Bird, trackingprotocol.” And he ducks slightly, runs a hand around—

Ah. There’s the vent.

“Black Bird activated,” the voice fromhis phone soothes as footsteps outside the open door are silent, but not Batsilent.

“There will be no need for that, MasterTimothy,” Alfred’s voice soothes as he enters the room, something in his handsswaying. “I have collected your suit and sundries.”

Unruffled as always, Alfred is probablyhere to help move it along. You know, outwith the old.

“I appreciate it,” he repeats,straightening, holding out a hand.

Alfred hums and hands the thing over,watching Master Tim’s fingers trace over the pack to find zippers and pouches,watches those fingers pause when theycome to safety pins and old band patches sewn in to the canvas with half-assedstitches.

Alfred fervently hopes it relays thecorrect message.

Tim goes still, dead eyes fixed on aspot just over Alfred’s shoulder. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten everything outof the Manor the first time.

Oops.

He opens his mouth to ask if there’sanything else he should be taking,but Alfred is already moving to the closet, filling in the stunned silence.

“I have taken the liberty of packing alight fare. I do hope you are still partial to my tomato and cheese omelets?”

Shit. His stomach rumbles slightly, andAlfred can probably hear it.

“Thank-you,” is what he can manage,digging into his old (Robin’s)backpack, fingers finding the slick edge of metal, the catch of his harness. Alittle more digging and the heavy cloth of the utility belt pouches, finallyhis fingertips nudge plastic, the side of a regular pair of shades.

Alfred is already back from the closet,standing close, “if you would, Sir?”

He pauses and something plastic touchesthe back of his hand, something with braille written on the other side. Hisfingers move over the tag hoodedsweatshirt; World of Warcraft design. A second tag replaces the first shoes; DC brand; black with blue DC logo.And Tim sits on the bed abruptly with the tag in hand, the other still in thebackpack, gripping the shades, yet to pull them out and on.

And he doesn’t need to see to know Alfred is giving him somekind of look, something that could behere is the last of your clothing, Sir.Please be careful on your way outor something that could even be I shallfetch another should this not be to your liking.

He’s in a bad place to make a guess.

“This is fine,” he finally breathesout.

“Very good. The t-shirt you are wearingis black with white lettering. It reads: The Physics is Theoretical, but theFun is Real.” (Someone obviously knowshim because that? Priceless. Enough that he sniggers) “The sweatpants are alsoblack with a white drawstring.”

He nods but Alfred moves away, pullingout a drawer in the bureau, “would you care for blue, white, or black socks?”

He catches himself from saying blue(since most of his blue clothing used to be the same color as Nightwing’s suit),“white please.”

“Certainly.”

He finally gets himself together enoughto slide on the shades, pull his extendable bo from the utility belt.

“Your hooded sweatshirt is on yourright side, the shoes will be here by your left foot, and the socks laid acrossthem.” And Alfred retreats a few steps, the sound of steps muffled, waiting onsomething.

Going with option number 1, Tim pullson his socks and shoes, sliding the tags in the pocket of the sweats. He slideshis arms through the sleeves of the hoodie, zips it up and adds the backpack.The bo (cane), pops out with the press of a thumb.

“The Rolls is ready at your convenience.”Alfred cuts in as he’s almost through the open door

Again, with the tone of voice, Option 1 or 2 hovers in his brain pan.

“My ride is on the way actually,” he counters,not turning back around. “I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

The impolite chuff is very familiar inthat being a pain in the ass will makethe butler angry kind of way.

“Master Timothy, if you would be sokind.”

This time, he does turn, bo in one handbecause he must have left something else that needed to be removed so the roomcan turn into a guest room or storage or—

But Alfred’s hands are a completelydifferent type of strength from Bruce’s. A strength that more to do with will. Hands that are recognizable withoutsight, and the grip on his biceps is something jarring, unexpected. It’s been awhile since he’s been…hugged (Dick’soctopus hold and Bruce’s self-recrimination hold notwithstanding).

“What is it, Alfred?” He askshesitantly, staying stiff because he’s only slightlyat a loss here.

“Promise to come back soon. And shouldyou need anything, promise you will call. If it is your preference I not tellMaster Bruce, Master Dick, or Master Damian, then I shall honor that request.However, simply call.”

His mouth works for a second, no soundcoming out.

“Alfred, I—”

“We’ve missed you,” the butler fillsin, “it would ease my conscience if I believed you really would call should you have a need.”

And the laugh is very not one of those ha-ha funny ones. Alfred’s grip justtightens.

**

In the entryway to Wayne Manor, Bruceis waiting. The smell of his cologne, and the utter stillness all he needs tobe able to tell.

The phone in his hoodie pocket chirps, “theBlack Bird has arrived at your destination. Twenty-one steps away.”

There’s a look exchanged between Bruceand Alfred. He doesn’t need to see it to know it’s happening.

“I have a ride.” He answers thequestion before Bruce even has to ask.

But there’s a hand on his shoulder, abig hand that does that familiar thing, groundinghim even after the last few years alone. “Promise you’ll come back beforeyou leave Gotham again.”

His smile is somewhat brittle, smallagainst the dark sunglasses hiding his dead eyes.

“At least patrol with me once if youwon’t come back to the Manor.”

“Batman has a Robin, B.”

The hand twitches and tightens, the oldmemories between them (“Batman needs aRobin!”).

B leans down just enough, “you’re still my Robin, Tim. You always will be,just like Dick and Jason. No matter what other name you take, you’re the boythat wore the tunic for me. You’re my partner. Don’t ever forget that.”

And—

Bruce plucks the glasses off his eyeswithout a hitch and wraps his arms around Tim again, just like he did in theCave, just like he did when he asked if adoption was okay, just like he didwhen it was a hard night and a shaky Robin needed something more than a “Good job.”

It’s so easy, too easy to sink in, togrip right back, fist his hands into the t-shirt, close his eyes, breathe outshakily. It’s too much, making his eyes hot for the first time in…

Well, nope, not going there.

He swallows around the lump in histhroat, but breathes in deep (and who called for hug day or some shit? Really, it’s getting to be a bit much, like where’s Jason Todd and please warn him if thatguy is looking for more than a little stab,stab, bang).

So maybe…he could just agree tosomething, make B feel better about this whole thing, “okay, Bruce. Before I go…something.I’ll call or…something. I don’t know. Patrol or whatever.”

The hand in his hair scratches at hisscalp (and really, it’s a weaknessokay? Steph is the one that figured it out first, so of course she’d spill itto Batman), rewarding him for openingup just a little. When it feels too nice, almost enough to make him sigh andcome back in to eat breakfast at the table after all, he pulls back, ahalf-smile making Bruce think Tim might actually look his age once and a while.The glasses are slid back on his face and Alfred gently opens the front doorfor him as both watch him go. Alfred leans in slightly to say a gentle, “becareful, Master Tim.”

The former Robin pauses long enough tosmile before he starts out into the sunlight.

And the World’s Greatest Detectivecalculates and considers—not for the first time since they brought a sleeping Timto the Manor after the fight with the League—just what the hell Ra’s al Ghulwants with the third Robin anyway. Since Dick and Damian are on a make Tim part of the family again, kick, they might be willing to do some leg work.

#winter answers #justice is blind #blind!tim au #things to tug your feels #I totally will go more into the Black Bird #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #lookit Dami being a good detecitve and doing research #dick grayson makes banging food for this universe #I will feed them to show them my love