Tumgik
#I’m not a fan of gravy
fitforestfairy · 2 months
Text
Home cooked Roasted Veggies with Gravy
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The veggies were fire 🔥 10/10
2 notes · View notes
chibi-scone · 6 months
Text
Izzy’s actual death is just the half of it. I’m mostly trying to push through the bullshit contradictory writing and the way it made some scenes just ultimately irrelevant.
27 notes · View notes
thatbigbisexual29 · 4 months
Text
I know no one probably gives two shits about this but THIS IS MY PERSONAL FAN CAST FOR THE PJO SHOW (specifically who they haven’t cast yet)
Athena - Kerry Washington
Tumblr media
I don’t even have to explain myself. She is perfect. The amount of power this woman holds with just a pose? She’d make a perfect Athena. 10/10
Apollo - Yung Gravy
Tumblr media
I 👏 DO 👏 NOT 👏 NEED 👏 TO 👏 EXPLAIN 👏 MY 👏 SELF 👏 Like are you kidding me?? I do not care if he can’t act for shit GET THIS MAN AS APOLLO
Aphrodite - Lizzo/Margot Robbie
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I blame Barbie for these choices. The only reason I choose two is because idk what’s going on with that Lizzo Lawsuit? So if that plays out nicely then yay Lizzo but if it doesn’t, Margot Robbie. And I know Margot Robbie is a big name but… she’s my Aphrodite 🥺
Artemis - Ashley Johnson
Tumblr media
This might not hit for a lot of people, but I think Ashley Johnson would be a FANTASTIC Artemis. She has the gentleness of moonlight but harshness of pitch black night. I could totally see her ruling over a pack of young lesbians idk bout any of you 🤷‍♀️ I also think she pairs up fantastically with Yung Gravy. Perfect ‘polar opposite’ pairing of you ask me.
Atlas - Christopher Judge
Tumblr media
So for those who don’t know, this guy voices Kratos from the new God of War games. And holy shit is he perfect for this role. I’ve always personally thought that Atlas was this large man with a deep voice, something to really be feared. AND MOTHER FUCK DOES THIS MAN HAVE BOTH. HE’S LARGE AND HE MAKES HIMSELF IN CHARGE. I’d die if they got him as Atlas.
Hera -Meryl Streep
Tumblr media
Ok ok ok ok BIG LEAP I KNOW. But like??? I can’t explain it but she’d make a great Hera in my eyes. Look at her!! Have you seen her in Devil Wears Prada? Like damn. I’ve also loved her since I was little so, based I guess
Blackjack (voice) - Logan Lerman
Tumblr media
Fuck me guys I can’t help it. First of all? It would be funny. I don’t have a second reason other than I really like him. And for what the old movie thought it was making? I don’t think he did a bad job as Percy at all. Do I like the movie at all? Absolutely fuck no. But I still respect all the actors because it wasn’t their fault the movie was shit. And again, it would be funny. Also, he says he loves Walker as Percy???? Literally says “I can’t imagine a better fit” like??????? How wholesome is that??? Ok rant over sowwy I just have a lot of thoughts about this man.
Tyson - Jack Dylan Grazer
Tumblr media
This funky little nerd needs to play Tyson. I just think he’d be an amazing Tyson, all awkward and jittery. That’s how I always saw him at least. But yes, him as Tyson!
Ok this is all I got for now but please add your opinions on this fan cast! I’m interested to see what everyone thinks 🥰 (if anyone sees this at all)
12 notes · View notes
baylishh · 2 years
Text
I have a special place in my heart for Yung Gravy
3 notes · View notes
Text
Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson
Tumblr media
based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!
warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.
“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”
Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.
“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.
The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.
Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.
She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.
“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.
You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.
“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”
You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.
Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.
The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.
“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.
“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.
“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.
You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.
“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”
“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.
You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.
“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”
“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”
“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”
She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.
“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.
“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”
“You won’t leave? They always leave.”
“I would never. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.
Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.
Was it worth it? Yes.
Would you do it all over again? Yes.
Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.
Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.
“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.
“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.
“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.
“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.  
Her lips felt familiar against yours.
Salty.
Warm.
Recognizable.
Home.
She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.
“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.
Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.
Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.
“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.
“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”
“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.
“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”
597 notes · View notes
spirker · 5 months
Text
Ok so I’m taking a break from shitposting to talk about the use of ‘This Woman’s Work’ in episode 3 because I’m a massive Kate Bush fan as well as OFMD - it’s taken me a minute to process my feelings about this because it’s also super personal.
This song is sung from the perspective of a man whose partner is going through a traumatic childbirth - in the video you see him in a waiting room, alone, trapped in a kind of limbo:
Tumblr media
You can see both the visual and symbolic similarities with Ed’s experience in the ‘gravy basket’ - he is also stuck in a blue-toned, washed out limbo, effectively alone (as Hornigold is really just a projection of himself)
Tumblr media
The man in ‘This Woman’s Work’ is also starting to drown, he’s drowning in his feelings of regret, fear for his partner, his helplessness in the face of her suffering, just as Ed is drowning in his self-loathing, his fears of being unloveable, his trauma and the suffering he has caused to others:
Tumblr media
But in both of these situations, they are visited by a vision of the one person who can pull them out of their downward spiral:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In each of these situations their partner is just there with them, being present without interacting but this presence alone is enough to give them the strength to pull out of their drowning.
And of course there is the significance of the line “give me your hand…”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Both Stede and the man in “This Woman’s Work” are powerless to help their partner through their suffering, the work of birth (or rebirth on Ed’s part) has to be done alone - but they can be there, and they can hold their hand.
I was in labour with my first son for 30+ hours, ending in an emergency c-section and my son being taken straight to the NICU because he wasn’t breathing. This song and this use of it in the show will always mean a lot to me because I know what it’s like to be drowning, in a kind of mental limbo with all this scary crap going on around you, but having a partner there to hold your hand through it, grounding you and bringing you back to the surface.
Anyway, I’ll go back to shitposting now ;)
And my son is a happy and healthy 6 year old now, just in case anyone was worried!
227 notes · View notes
gatzbright · 8 months
Text
dream & george; falling in love
Tumblr media
Dream: 'Have either of you talked about liking each other in the past?' George: *Scoffs* Dream: ... Well— George: *Giggles* Dream: Well, none of the answers fit. But I'd say, like, we've talked about 'whether' ... George: The weather? Dream: Yeah.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dream: The realisation that, once again, I met someone that's not going to be my friend, but something more. They were never meant to be my friend in the first place. I can't avoid it. If I'm going to fall in love, I'm going to fall in love. So this song is a cry to please be gentle, please don't make me even more paranoid.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dream: I want that part of my life to be private, you know? Regardless of who that person is ... Once the cameras are off, once we're not doing anything, it's our time. It's me and you. There's no one else. No one else exists in the world, regardless of the fact that there's thirty-million people that are looming over.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dream: Because I'm famous and because I have all this attention on me—when I'm in my normal life it's like, I want to put the people in my life in the spotlight and make sure they feel that way. But then there's lyrics like 'the celebrity in my bed' and 'close the curtains now you're all mine' ... It's about, you know, that special someone in your life, and how in my mind, because I feel so special, I want them to feel that same specialness. So, yeah, it's about relationships and how I want that person to feel special like I do.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
dream @/dreamwastaken: .@/GeorgeNotFound you've had such a big impact on my life I don't even know where to start. helping me code my videos sometimes, helping with random ideas within videos, encouraging me and always being the light in the room to make things even just a little bit brighter. you took a chance on me out of university, making thumbnails and coding for scraps because we wanted to make it big and I’m proud to say that we did it and I’ll have an appreciation for you for the rest of my life because of your friendship, kindness, and love you’ve shown me. love you man. idc if you’re never serious or if we joke around a lot, you have a place in my heart and I’m looking forward to finally meeting you and taking our next step in content creation and friendship. LOVE U
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dream: 'Spotlight' is a song I wrote about making that special someone in my life feel as special as they truly are ... I want to be there to support them through the ups and downs, and make them feel like they have a million fans screaming cheering them on, even if it's just my voice echoing a million times. They are the most important person in the world and the only one in that spotlight of love and admiration, and I want them to know that.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a lot of my future is your future
Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream and George retake 'Am I In Love With My Bestfriend' Quiz, DNF Discord Podcast | Head Over Heels / Broken, Tears for Fears | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | The Diaries of Franz Kafka, Franz Kafka | Paranoid, Dream | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Franz Kafka Letter, Franz Kafka | Red Doc>, Anne Carson | Photograph of Dream and George during the Foodbeast's Panel at Twitchcon San Diego, @/itsjusttai_ | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | Paranoid, Dream | Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor Swift | Dream's Snapchats of George, @/dream | Paris, Taylor Swift | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | long story short, Taylor Swift | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | Dream breaks down his new EP track by track, Associated Press | Spotlight, Dream | Technoblade Charity Stream George's POV, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Dream and George during Foodbeast's Kitchen League Battle Royale at Twitchcon San Diego, Twitch VOD | October Passed Me By, girl in red | Waiting for a Star to Fall, Boy Meets Girl | Dream Team Christmas – Gingerbread Houses, GeorgeNotFound VOD | dream Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | "George napping and the sun is literally beaming him square in the face" – Photograph and Tweet, @/dreamwastaken | Paranoid, Dream | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | to whoever wants to hear – lyric booklet, Dream | Dream Team House Cooking Stream, Awesamdude VOD | SOMEONE MADE A DISSTRACK ABOUT ME???, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Paranoid, Dream |
284 notes · View notes
joltning · 2 months
Text
how I see them cooking
church: the worst fucking cook out of all of them. just absolute horrible blames everything on caboose puts things to 10000 degrees and is like ☹️why did it burn ☹️wtf. has never made an edible thing in his life.
tucker: pretty good I mean he’s not making anything gourmet but any time blue team has to cook real food he does it and has to ban church and caboose cause they fuck it up so bad. might have some questionable tastes tho so his personal food is a little fucked
caboose: surprisingly not that bad but makes a Mess. it’ll taste good but still have an eggshell in it and the whole room is covered in ingredients
tex: pretty normal. she doesn’t seem like a big cooking fan though she might just eat an onion for the hell of it
sarge: good. but put him on the grill NOW. he needs to grill Now. he probably has a homemade rub that tastes bomb. he probably puts it on everything though and the rest of the team is shouting at him for putting pepper on his ice cream or something
simmons: bare minimum. he can make instant food and basic meals but he wings it or looks up a recipe. I can imagine he chops vegetables pretty fast
grif: well versed in the art of comfort food. he doesn’t really like cooking bc it takes a long ass time but he’s a good ‘throw shit in a pot’ kind of guy. shit is probably fire. I see him doing it when stressed maybe.
donut: all talk. great baker great mixologist never get him near a stovetop because he is starting a grease fire. even when he does cook a good dish it only looks really nice and tastes mid
lopez: honestly I’m not sure. im thinking a lot of simple meals with not a lot of spices cause he can’t. taste. but he sees them add like salt after and he’s like Oh Ok So you don’t like it. and spices it the fuck up. honestly might be the best cook of them because of versatility. he just downloads a shit ton of recipes once and never again
doc: everyone gets this but the Worst fucking healthy options Ever. to an absurd level
kai: she keeps fucking making infused foods and leaving them out. simmons had a weed brownie it was an experience. she’d make those ‘battery acid’ tiktok drinks go into a sugar high and pass out
locus: every time they have a cookout he brings a huge pot of mashed potatoes and gravy. no one knows where he gets it or when he has the time to make it. no one asked him to bring food
147 notes · View notes
primaryassist · 10 months
Text
decently long hockey rpf fic recs that i couldn’t put down
King and Lionheart by thehoyden. this is a sidgeno arranged marriage fic and it is incredible! it also has the most kudos on the whole hrpf tag which is pretty cool too.
running under the wrong assumption by swedishsnail. natecale baseball au and as both an avid natecale enthusiast and a baseball fan, this is great! love the characterization of both of them. and cale as a catcher is a perfect match.
Cor et Anima by Anonymous. this is a sidgeno soulmate fic and this is so sweet! i love the way geno’s hugs are described.
Looking Through You by nordalanche. It’s a mattdrai d/s fic and i loved the ending!
sail by Anonymous. it’s still ongoing, but it’s kreidbanejad where chris has anxiety and so far, it is incredible!
head above water by yourblues because who doesn’t love a good old mattdrai rivals to fuckbuddies to lovers?
Hate Is A Strong Word by Anonymous. natecale enemies (sounds weird but it makes sense if you read it) to friends to lovers
all the beyonds were his by heartequals. this is gravy/cale and i’ve never read their pairing until now and i’m pleasantly surprised at how much i like it! gravy sending postcards to cale is so amazing.
light the world up by shellies. matthew/sasha throughout the first round against the bruins. i love colin’s questions throughout it too.
parentheses all clicking shut by the undiagnosable. there’s so romantic pairing but this captures the character of jt so well.
once in twenty lifetimes by coastalhighway. jt/mo because i eat rarepairs for breakfast. jt is a vampire too and i love it.
red lights i’ll run (what i got you need it) by Japery. this is gabe/tyson and it makes me mourn tyson on the avs. comph/josty in there too.
torch this place we know by theundiagnosable. mitch/aus where mitch gets traded to pittsburgh (my dream tbh). it’s angsty and amazing.
The Only One for Me is You by Anonymous. another angsty natecale fic coming right up!
Tropism by Anonymous. flower/geno, love that rarepair. it’s a hanahaki fic and i’m a sucker for those.
somewhere this works by cuprun. it’s a sid/claude time loop and omg i love it. there’s background tk/np and that’s incredible too.
One Day We’ll Only Be Memories by swaymarks. there’s goalie magic and tbh that’s the best type of magic
i’ll be adding more if i come across new ones, so if you like these then check back!
390 notes · View notes
oracle-of-dream · 8 months
Text
A Bedtime Message
Tumblr media
Summary: Jake has been busy with international schedules, and while you’re in Korea he can barely get time to talk to you during the day. So he tries to leave you videos talking about his day.
Notes: Idol!Jake x nb!reader, Fluff, Video messages
You just finished your shower and face care from another day of work. You always hated going to work but knew at the end of every day you’d get a new message. Your boyfriend, Jake, set his messages so you would always receive his messages right before bed. So you can hear his voice just before bed.
You crawled into bed, getting comfortable under the blankets and arranging your pillows as your phone chimed. You scooped it up in an instant to see Jake’s face as your lock screen lit up your dark room. It was a picture he’d taken while on a beach somewhere, you weren’t sure which beach but you told him we were forbidden from posting it online so you could have your own private picture of him. Jake loved the idea so he’d sent too many pictures to choose from, but this one was special because the sun hit his face just perfectly.
You opened today’s message and the video started to play.
Jake looked radiant as usual through your phone screen, sitting in another hotel room with a warm look on his face.
“Hey, Love.” He said. His voice was smooth and soft and listening to it made you miss him even more. Sometimes he’d pretend it's actually like a video call, leaving a pause in between some places for you to speak to him.
“Hi Jake,” you whispered back. 
“Today was a really busy day, just like usual, but check out the food I just got from room service!” Jake panned the camera down to show a dinner spread. A steak dinner with rice and gravy and veggies. “I have no idea how much it costs,” he cut the steak and took a bite. “But this is still nowhere near as good as your food.”
You watched Jake set the camera back up on himself and he ate a few bites of his food, occasionally looking up at you and shaking the hair out of his eyes. 
“Oh…” He sounded sad. “Another stressful day at work. I know it sucks, but I’m so proud of you for always working so hard, I’ll become your house husband at the rate you’re making money.” He chuckled. He fixed the folds in his shirt and leaned close to the camera, turning it on its side so it could be like he was lying down next to you. You’d told him one time that you watch the videos in bed, so it seemed like he was trying to make you feel like he was there as much as possible. 
“Anyways, so what I did today!” He beamed at the thought of what he’d done that day. “We woke up so early! Like 5 a.m.! Ni-ki and Heeseung still made us late–Heeseung is actually my roommate for this part of the trip but he’s letting me talk to you alone. Anyways! We woke up super early to get to a photo shoot location and were there for about three hours. I fell asleep for most of the ride and the shoot, so I didn’t manage to get any photos to give you in the outfit they gave us…” Jake scratched the back of his head and got quiet.
You spoke to him, “It’s okay. I know you’re busy…”
He timed it perfectly and smiled brightly right when you answered. “Really, you’re not that mad? I promise I’ll bring a souvenir from this place too! LA is so beautiful and warm, we should go here when we have a vacation! I’ll buy you whatever you want and take you to the beach!”
You giggled at seeing him so excited, you hugged the body pillow next to you tight imagining it was him lying in your arms.
He laughed with you. “What next…? Right! After the photoshoot, the guys and I went to a fan event. A pop-up where we could talk to fans and get gifts, some gave me some cool treats to bring home so I’ll hide them from Sunoo and bring them home to you to have.”
“That sounds great. I’d love to try them.” You said to him, tears running across your face and onto your sheets.
There’s a knock on the door in Jake’s video. “Y-yes?” Jake called as he looked at the door.
You heard some noises and then Heesung spoke, “Jake, the manager is saying we gotta go to bed. I’m sorry bro, I stalled as long as I can…” 
Jake sank into his chair. “But I haven’t finished telling them everything we did today.”
Heeseung walked into the frame and put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I know, we’re still busy for two more weeks before we fly back to Korea.” Heeseung leans down to look at the camera, “I’m sorry y/n, we both have to go to bed now, I hope you don’t hate us too much.” 
Jake played with the fork on his plate. “I didn’t even get to finish eating.”
You and Heeseung spoke at the same time, “Then you shouldn’t have ordered it so late if you knew that you would have to go to bed early!”
You laughed thinking how similar you and Heeseung must sound to Jake, always nagging at him for being too careless or goofy. But it also made you feel happy knowing that Heeseung was taking good care of him for you.
Jake turned the camera upright again, with a pout on his lips. “I’m sorry y/n… I promise tomorrow’s video will be twice as long as normal to pay back the time I missed tonight.” Jake paused, you could see him fighting tears. “I love you so much. I’ll be back home before you know it, and then you’ll have to catch me up on everything, okay?” Jake leaned forward and kissed the camera. He waved one more time before turning off the camera with a soft but sad smile.
You put your phone on its charger and rolled over in bed. “I hope tomorrow gets here faster…”
163 notes · View notes
monstersandmaw · 8 months
Text
Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Five (sfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 
Here's chapter five! I've been blown away by your reaction and love for this story so far, and the fact that I've got two lots of fan art out of it as well has just totally humbled me. Thank you! You can find them here and here, by the way, as well as my own doodles of Locryn and Ned.
Anyway, here we have the Harvest Festival Dance, where all bets are off, and there's some angst and a sprinkling of drama for some *spice*...
Wordcount: 4203
Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw)
Tumblr media
The night of the Lammas Festival dance ticked around in no time, and even though the focus of the festivities was the great barn and the yard outside, the whole of Heath Top House itself came alive.
The staff spent the entire day scouring the stone floor of the barn and setting out the long tables in the barn and preparing the feast, while Winnie and Nel tried not to get in their way while weaving and hanging decorative wreaths and festoons along the walls, and tying ribbons in bows on the huge doors.
As promised, Aggie had come to the house a few days before to teach the two ladies how to weave the traditional corn dollies, or Nests as they were called in these parts, much to Nel’s confusion. Her own hadn’t turned out too bad, despite her lack of skill with an embroidery needle, while Winnie’s was decidedly lumpy and misshapen. Still, they laughed and hung them in pride of place in the drawing room window, and Aggie had even managed a kind word about their efforts while gossipping about everyone in the village.
“Little Betsie Carne is going to get a proposal from Arthur, you can count on that, and Meg has been leading poor Jack on something dreadful. If he can get a word out without turning red as an autumn apple to ask her to dance on Lammas night, I’ll eat this whole Neck with gravy and turnips!” she cackled, waving her own intricate corn dolly at them like a cook with a wooden spoon while they all laughed.
Nel refrained from asking about whether Edmund Nancarrow or Locryn Trevethan would be seen with anyone, though she was curious if the older woman had noticed their seemingly obvious adoration for one another. Perhaps it was one of those things that everyone knew about and simply didn’t mention in case it brought unwanted attention down on them, much like the smuggling and Free Trade in the area. Nel was not one to rock the proverbial boat, and kept her focus on the plaited strand of corn in her fingers, all the while remembering the way Locryn had crowded close to Edmund on the quayside and the sound of his smouldering voice as he’d growled soft endearments at him under his breath.
On the night of the dance itself, the trestle tables in the barn stretched all the way down its length, and were flanked by long benches for seating, and the stall doors of the stables along the edges of the barn each sported a different wreath and a coloured ribbon.
Blackthorn immediately ate the enormous sunflower that had been at the top of her wreath with great relish, and Nel fell about laughing while the black mare blithely scattered yellow petals all over the floor while Winnie looked honestly heartbroken. The stable hand nearby chuckled too, and Nel moved the remainder of the wreath to a spot where Blackthorn’s pincer teeth couldn't reach.
As dusk fell and the lanterns were lit around the yard and in the barn, Nel continued to help the staff where she could until Winnie emerged and called her name into the dying afternoon. It was so unlike her that Nel nearly dropped the basket of hazelnuts she’d been carrying. Liddy, a kitchen servant, gently took it from her and chirped, “Best see what she wants, Miss Nel.”
The slight glow of affection that she felt whenever the household called her ‘Miss Nel’ instead of ‘Miss Bywater’ or even ‘Miss Eleanor’ hadn’t faded since she’d first heard them start it up, and she offered Liddy a quick smile and her thanks as she handed the basket over and scuttled over to Winnie on the threshold of the manor house.
Winnie laughed and dragged her by the wrist through the house as though they were both barely fourteen, not twenty-five and thirty. “Come on! The guests will start arriving any minute and you’re still wearing that horrible brown dress! And it’ll take me at least an hour to style your hair properly…”
In the end, her hair only took twenty minutes, though that was more because Nel’s wild tresses refused to be properly curled and even Winnie simply gave up, but it was a good couple of hours before they were both fully dressed and ready, and dusk had well and truly fallen outside.
Winnie led her arm-in-arm across the hallway to the front door of the hall, where her father and mother in law were standing and smiling. “You both look beautiful,” Lady Mary said, speaking first to Winnie but surprising Nel by including the young woman in her gaze too.
“Shall we go?” Lady Mary asked her husband, who nodded and a servant opened the door for them.
Nel’s breath caught when she saw how the staff had finished off the decorations, with lamps settled on the ground all around the courtyard, candles glinting within them, and festoons of foliage and flowers around the edges of the open space. The shrill piping of a tin whistle and the steady, heartbeat rhythm of a drum kept a leaping fiddle carefully in time as the music rose above the chatter and laughter in the barn beyond, and she walked with Winnie towards the celebrations that were already kicking off by the sound of things.
Nel recognised many of the faces from the farm and estate workers, as well as a few from the village, and she caught Agatha’s eye as the old woman beamed at her while laughing with the man beside her. Nel grinned at her and slipped away from Winnie to hug the woman.
“Dearie, you look right lovely,” Agatha said as she released her and gazed up and down at her embroidered green dress. “Doesn’t she, Martin?” she asked, and her husband nodded enthusiastically.
They glanced around the great barn and smiled at the sight of all the horses poking their noses over their stall doors, clearly wondering what the fuss was all about. Blackthorn had a piece of hay in her dark forelock, and Nel had just thought about going over to pick it out for her when Lord Penrose cleared his throat and tapped a knife against the edge of his glass, calling for silence.
Although he wasn’t as popular with the local folk as Winnie herself was, people fell silent quickly to listen to him. Just as he opened his mouth to begin, however, one of the carthorses near the back of the barn broke wind and let rip an enormous noise that made everyone go completely still and then burst out laughing. Once one person started, the cacophony rose and people slapped the table and guffawed, and even Blackthorn joined in with a shrill neigh of her own before things eventually sputtered back to quiet.
Nel covered her mouth with her hand and turned her face into Agatha’s shoulder, still shaking with silent laughter, but just as she shut her eyes, she saw Edmund Nancarrow standing nearby, biting his own lips together to keep from laughing. When their gaze met, it was all over for Nel and she whickered out a shuddering breath that was just the right side of decent to escape Lord Penrose’s attention as everyone else gained control of themselves.
“Yes, well… quite,” the older man chirped around a tight smile of his own. “Well, after such a crude reminder from Old Flint there for me to keep things brief, I would just like to thank all of you for your hard work and dedication this year. I believe this was a record harvest for us, and I hope you know how valued you all are as my tenants. None of this would be possible without your daily hard work. Providing a feast like this is a truly inadequate way of thanking you, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Please…”
And with a gesture and a wordless toast, he raised his glass and everyone cheered.
Nel glanced back at Edmund, who was then looking in the other direction and speaking to a young woman in a dark blue dress, so Nel used the brief opportunity to take in the slender lines of his body in the wine red coat he wore. Angular and handsome, he was quick to laugh, and he ducked his head shyly as he ushered his companion forward ahead of him to the trestle table to help herself before him.
The motion left him standing alone, and Nel slipped free of Agatha to join him.
He watched her approach and bowed his head as she joined him. “Miss Bywater,” he said in his quiet tenor.
“Mr. Nancarrow,” she said. “Old Flint got things off to a good start,” she giggled, and Edmund snickered like a schoolboy again.
 She could see an endless well of mirth in the depths of his brown eyes and didn’t trust herself not to laugh along with him if he started up again in earnest.
“And here I thought it was going to be my dear Blackthorn causing all the trouble,” she went on, nodding at the black mare as she popped her head curiously over her stable and sniffed curiously at the tankard of cider someone was holding in their hand while talking and facing in the opposite direction. “She’s a bit of a menace, but she’s a sweetheart too.”
Edmund looked very much as though he wanted to talk, to say something in response, but perhaps his innate shyness got in the way and he just swallowed thickly and he smiled one of those devastating, dimpled smiles instead.
“No Locryn tonight?” she asked quietly, and he smiled to show he wasn’t anxious about the topic.
“He said he might come later,” he said. “He doesn’t tend to have much to do with the village, even at big events like this one.” He finished the statement with another bashful smile that lit him up from the inside out, and she fought down a wave of selfish jealousy; she would have been lying if she’d said she didn’t want someone to smile like that at the thought of her.
“Can’t say I imagine him being overly comfortable at a gathering like this,” she ventured, and Edmund snorted.
“No. It’s a shame though,” he added with a glance at the musicians near the back of the barn. “He loves music.”
“Let’s hope he shows up then,” she said. “I’ve been to my fair share of gatherings and balls in London, but this is already ten times more fun.”
A hand at her elbow made her start and she looked round just as Winnie giggled and squeezed her arm. “There you are,” she said, and then her eyes fell on Edmund and her smile grew. “Oh.”
She clearly recognised him, but didn’t know his name, so Nel turned and said, “Winnie, this is Mr. Edmund Nancarrow. He is assistant to Mr. Fordyce.”
“Oh, a tailor!” she beamed, with a rosy flush in her cheeks. “How talented! You must never, ever be allowed to see my embroidery, Mr. Nancarrow,” she said with the perfect sincerity of the very tipsy. “Nel’s isn’t much better though. Dreadful, actually, but you didn't hear it from me.”
Nel gave a laugh through her nose and began to steer Winnie towards the table, and towards a glass of water. With a look back over her shoulder, she said to Edmund, “Will you excuse us before Winnie drops any more embarrassing truths about my shortcomings? Give her another glass of Mr. Meddlar’s cider, and she’ll be telling everyone how bad I am at the fortepiano too. At least I can speak French to a passable degree. Come on, Winnie…”
Edmund was smiling again as if she’d told him the world’s funniest secret, and when the young woman who’d been with him earlier joined and immediately led him away by the elbow with the air of a close friend who needs to know every detail of recent events, he shook his head fondly and indulged her.
Nel lost track of him after that. She and Winnie sat down together near the head of the table to enjoy the glorious roast beef and pork pie and boiled vegetables that had been prepared for the feast.
“Who was that young man you were talking to?” Winnie asked about an hour into the festivities, having soaked up a little of the cider with some supper. “He was rather handsome…”
Shaking her head, Nel reached for her own wine glass and sipped from it. “His name is Edmund Nancarrow. He’s Mr. Fordyce’s assistant.”
“You told me that,” Winnie said flatly. “That wasn’t what I meant. You seemed…”
“Don’t,” she sighed, and whatever bitter, sad undertone carried in the single word, Winnie caught it and let the matter lie.
Instead, the young widow closed her hand around Nel’s forearm and leaned in close. “Make sure you dance with whomever you like tonight, mmm? There are no rules at the Harvest Dance, and no one will think anything of whatever happens tonight.”
She didn’t reply, but she mulled her friend’s words over while they ate dessert, and when the merry drone of the bagpipes started up outside in the courtyard and the people began to line up, Nel followed Winnie and tried to take part as best she could. Nel had never danced most of the country dances they all seemed to know there though, and after embarrassing herself by stumbling through a few sets under Winnie’s rather chaotic directions on the fly, she slipped away and strolled along the barn towards Blackthorn’s stall, snagging an apple from the table on the way.
The horse whickered, low and warm when she opened the door and slipped inside the dark stall, and while the heat of the dancing faded a little from her cheeks, she stroked the mare’s velvet nose and fed her chunks of apple until it was all gone.
The mare’s ears pricked forwards suddenly and Nel turned to see Edmund slowly sinking down onto one of the long, empty benches outside the stall.
He had a tight expression of pain on his face and he seemed to be breathing carefully through the sharp discomfort in his leg with the practised pattern of someone who deals with chronic pain on a daily basis.
Aware that she was intruding on his privacy, she had just begun to turn back to the mare when she heard Edmund laugh quietly and she glanced over her shoulder again to see Locryn’s massive form sliding onto the bench beside him.
He wore an undyed linen shirt that was open a little at the neck, and simple brown trousers and boots, but somehow he had the presence of a lord in a great hall, and she found herself transfixed. He pulled Edmund against his side for a moment and then, from what she could see from her limited angle, he appeared to lay his big hand quietly on Edmund’s painful hip. After a few long, measured breaths, Edmund simply melted into his supportive touch, allowing the bulk of the bigger man to buttress him up entirely, and he half closed his eyes in the relative privacy of the shadowed barn.
The noises of dancing and merriment drifted down the empty table, over the abandoned plates and tankards, and for a time, everything stayed perfectly, timelessly still.
Nel hardly dared breathe, let alone turn around, in case her skirts dragged on the straw and disturbed the couple by alerting them to her presence.
Blackthorn scraped her hoof along the stall floor a few moments later, shattering the silence with the jarring sound, and she nudged at Nel’s hand for more apple. Using the shuffling of the horse to mask her own movements, she turned her back on the two men to breathe in the scent of the mare’s glossy coat.
She rubbed her cheek against the silky hair on Blackthorn’s neck and slowly buried her fingers in the dense, dark coat that was starting to grow as the year turned colder. Tears prickled hot around her eyes as she was struck starkly by the force of her loneliness, despite her friendship with Winnie. The sting of knowing she would probably never curl up with a man in bed, never feel his hand resting on her hip, never hear him sigh with pleasure or feel his lips brush over her neck, suddenly seemed all the sharper with the knowledge that just outside the stable were two people who meant the world to each other.
With a huge sigh, she pressed a kiss to Blackthorn’s neck and prepared to walk out with her head held at a dignified angle, politely ignoring Edmund and Locryn as she left and went back to the manor house for the night.
Instead, she turned around and found Locryn leaning his huge, bare forearms on the stable door immediately behind her, and nearly leapt out of her skin. How on earth he’d moved so silently, she couldn’t fathom.
He offered her a lopsided grin and opened the door for her as she approached. “Not hiding in there, are you, Miss?” he asked as he stepped back, and, comically, both Nel and the mare made to leave the stall together.
Nel turned around and glared pointedly at the horse, who tossed her head, snorted, and then promptly turned her quarters around and stuck her nose in the hay trough on the back wall without so much as a farewell nicker for the apple.  
“No?” Nel grimaced at Locryn, nodding her thanks as he secured the door behind her. “Truth be told, I got fed up with tripping over my own feet in dances I don’t really know, and I wanted to make sure Blackthorn didn’t feel too left out. You’re not dancing either, I take it?”
“Me?” he laughed, the oddly delighted sound carrying easily over the deserted table and echoing around the otherwise empty barn. “You think anyone wants to partner up with me?”
“Why ever wouldn't they?” she asked with a frown, stopping abruptly and staring up at him. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and so broad and muscular in the confines of the dimly-lit barn that he seemed almost like a giant out of a fairytale.
“You saying you would?” he countered, one thick, steel-grey eyebrow rising.
“I —” her gaze flickered to Edmund, who was sitting on the bench and watching the exchange with a wry twist to his lips that made his dark eyes glitter. “If I were halfway decent at dancing, and if you asked me, I might,” she told Locryn archly. “But I didn’t think you liked anyone else here enough to want to dance with them, let alone me.”
At that, a little of the playful laughter faded from his green eyes and he took half a step back. “Now why would you think I don’t like you, Miss?” he asked, arms folding across his chest. The movement pulled the fabric of his undyed shirt across his shoulders and accentuated the enormous muscles of his arms and chest, and she looked down at the ground before answering him. Some of the heat from her earlier dancing returned to her cheeks and refused to leave a second time.
“Well,” she mumbled, “For starters… you glowered at me something fierce the first time I came to Polgarrack, and you nearly knocked me flying off the cliff when you brought Mr. Nancarrow up from the sands. You didn't even check to see if you’d toppled me over the edge in your haste.”
“Forgive me for caring about —” he hissed and stopped himself from saying what Edmund truly meant to him and ground his teeth. “You weren’t in any danger,” he said with a clenched jaw.
“Perhaps not,” she conceded, “And you did redeem yourself somewhat by helping me onto Blackthorn afterwards.” The way his huge hand had lingered around her ankle joint had lived far longer in her mind than it had any right to. “Fine. Are you saying you would genuinely dance with me?”
“You saying you want to? Thought you weren’t enjoying the dancing… Two left feet and all…”
She rolled her eyes and flapped her hands a little in frustration. “Oh, you’re impossible. Forget the whole thing. I was going to call it a night anyway.” She looked over at Edmund, who was just barely holding back a laugh at his lover’s antics. “Mr. Nancarrow, I wish you good night. I hope you and Locryn enjoy the music. God knows, I think I’ve had quite enough of all of it.” Her cheeks were stinging and it had nothing to do with the exertion after dancing.
With that, she turned and walked briskly towards the open doors of the barn, her chest churning with the strange and unsettling feeling that she’d either been flirted with or made a fool of, and she couldn’t tell which it was. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
“Wait!” Locryn's bass voice was soft, and she almost missed it over the shrill piping and rapid-fire scraping of the fiddler outside, but she stopped all the same.
Slowly, she turned and found him walking towards her with a completely new expression on his face. With his green eyes wide and dark, he looked contrite and abashed, and behind him she could just make out Edmund, leaning his elbow against the table while he drank deeply from a wine goblet as if to hide a smile.
“If I asked you, would you dance with me?” Locryn asked in a low rumble.
A little suspicious, she frowned and jutted her chin back towards Edmund. “What about…?” she asked carefully.
Locryn shook his head. “He asked me to ask you. He knows I like dancing, and it’s not something he’s comfortable doing.”
“You like dancing?”
The mountain of a man just nodded.
“And you’re not making fun of me?” she asked.
“No,” he breathed. “I’m sorry if I made you think I was just now. I was just having a laugh with you. You give as good as you get, and I like that.”
She smiled and held out her hand, palm down. “Alright then. One dance. And if I tread on your feet or trip over, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t let you trip over,” he said with a smile that showed his thick canines and made his eyes glint. Despite all that, she trusted him, and let him lead her out of the barn and towards the dancing.
A few people looked at them as they joined the end of the line for the next set, but true to his word, Locryn neither embarrassed her nor let her embarrass herself. His big, rough hands were gentle as he turned her under his arm, and he moved with surprising lightness of foot for someone his size. And he really did enjoy the music. She saw it in the way his eyes lit up and his lips curved into an attractive, heartfelt smile. He picked her up by the hips and floated her down to the ground again in a turn that left her dizzy, with two points of heat searing into her skin where his hands had been, if only for a second or two.
The set passed in a blur of lines weaving in and out of each other; of steel grey hair and dark green eyes and wolfish smiles that lit her up inside. From time to time, since they were on the end of the line, she caught glimpses of Edmund’s pale face watching from the shadows of the barn, and each time she saw him, he was smiling.
And then it was over almost before she’d even realised it.
They stared in breathless silence at each other for several pounding heartbeats while the rest of the dancers cheered and applauded the musicians, but Nel couldn’t tear her eyes from his. They were as green as the sea on a summer evening, and there was an otherworldly glow about him that drew her in like the promise of soothing waves after a long and thirsty day in the sun.
For some reason she could almost taste saltwater on her tongue.
There was a pounding in her ears like the thunder of distant surf and she couldn’t catch her breath.
Locryn leaned down and she watched the very tip of his tongue move to wet his upper lip. For a wild, wonderful moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.
Someone bumped into her from behind, sending her lurching a step towards him and he steadied her where he still held her hands in his rough, rope-callused fingers.
The moment vanished like sea foam and she swallowed, looking up at him. He looked as stunned as she did.
“No wonder he’s so in love with you,” she whispered, blinking back tears. She bobbed a tiny, stiff curtsy. “I thank you for the dance, Mr. Trevethan.”
Without waiting long enough for him to react, she turned and walked as quickly as she dared back to the house.
__
Uh-oh... :)
Next chapter ->
I hope you’re enjoying it and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)
122 notes · View notes
oysterdelite · 2 months
Note
What is your favorite soup? -star
Chicken soup and wonton soup are my faves but I’m very particular about both of them! I also LOVE beef stew but I’m not really sure if that’s a soup or not. Now that I think about it I should really eat more soup bc I also love minestrone and pozole like more than a human being should. If I had to rank them-
1. Chicken soup but specifically my mom’s
2. Minestrone cause it’s one of the only ways I’ll eat whole beans (texture issue don’t take my Latino card plz)
3. Wonton soup but specifically a wonton soup from a Chinese place run in the town I used to live in when I lived in South Carolina (god I miss that soup I think about it so often)
4. Pozole but again specifically my mom’s
5. Other soups (I don’t like tomato soup though, not a huge fan of tomato in general tbh)
Honorable mention: Beef stew with a delicious gravy made from the beef renderings. Just thinking about it makes me want to do something heinous. I think I would fuck that beef stew if it were a person it’s so good
37 notes · View notes
cellu-lightreading · 2 months
Text
Uncle Mac's Football Fans
You can find more episodes of Uncle Mac's here or start with the brand new one below!
Looking at the group of guys gathered in the restaurant it was hard for Jason to not feel proud. His little side project may not have been the kind of work that a foundation would pay for, but it was still a good service. Whenever he looked down at his soft middle, he was sure that he was doing the right thing. Retirement was hitting him hard. After a few years playing professional football, it was time for him to take off the helmet for good. But the challenge for every retired player is not blowing up like a blimp now that you’re not exercising like a maniac. The challenge is even harder for guys like Jason who are big and were always encouraged to eat and stay big. He already had a nice sized gut sitting in his lap and it was only going to grow. He knew that one day he was going to be just like them: massively pudgy beyond most people’s understanding. Not a single one of these men were under 350 pounds, and Jason had crossed over into 300 himself just a couple months. Some day soon he was going to be the one eating faster than he can size up at the men's department.
Maybe that’s why when he heard Scott’s story he was so immediately drawn to help out. Scott had been a fan of the local team for decades, even before he moved into town. Someone was kind enough to gift Scott with season tickets so he could watch them play in person for the first time. When he got to the stadium, he found out that the seats were all too small for him to squeeze into. Scott had to forfeit his tickets and miss the game because the tiny plastic chairs wouldn��t accommodate for his pillowy love handles enough for his cellulite-ridden ass to sit down. Scott obviously couldn’t stand and watch the whole game. One of the local stations decided to interview him and he looked like a stereotype. There were ketchup and mustard stains from his hot dogs. He was drenched in sweat; he wasn’t used to doing all this walking around anymore, especially in the late summer sun. When Jason laid eyes on Scott, he knew he needed to do something. 
Jason’s first idea was to head to the front office and demand change. They quickly explained to him that they would not install wider seats and reduce the capacity and thereby sell less tickets. They dismissed him just after laughing at the idea of trying to switch out the whole stadium for fat people. 
His next idea was to go to the seat of fat men’s power: Uncle Mac’s restaurant. Uncle Mac’s was notorious for accommodating big guys and granting their wishes. Usually it was a food related wish, but still. Jason wasn’t allowed to come here most of the year while he was playing, so it felt like a treat just getting to smell the sugary salty air. Mac seemed excited just to have Jason in his restaurant. 
“Well if it isn’t number 57, just like Heinz! What brings you on in?”
“I had a pitch for you, but if you keep me in here too long, I’m going to have to take a snack break.”
Mac gave Jason a pat on the gut. “Well we could always start with food and do the business while you eat. You’re here first thing in the morning, I could get you some biscuits and gravy, maybe some chicken and waffles.”
“I do love your fried chicken.”
“And we always serve real pieces of chicken, not tenders.”
“Maybe put in an order with a side of hashbrowns.”
Within moments, one of the waiters brought two platters into the office. Mac watched Jason chow down like he was watching a strip tease. He had heard the rumors about Mac; he knew what was happening. Mac might not like football, but he thought Jason was hot. Jason explained his next idea:  a football fan club for the super obese. The team would advertise Uncle Mac’s as the place to go for everyone who couldn’t waddle into a seat for a home game. 
Mac was scared the drunken fans might scare off his usual brunch clientele, but agreed to a trial run season on one condition: Jason must eat a meal at the restaurant every week. A meal a week doesn’t seem like much if you don’t know about Uncle Mac’s cooking. Uncle Mac made some of the most addictive calorie-laden food in the country.  Jason could hear the warnings from his old coaches and his wife in the back of his head. He licked the syrup and crumbs off his fingers and agreed to it. 
At the first meeting of the fan club, Jason almost felt a little secure in his deal. Jason watched some of the biggest guys he had ever seen waddle through the door.  The waiters were on a first name with most of the guys. They shuffled around to give them reinforced seats and still he heard furniture groan under the weight.  If too many of them jumped to their feet at once, it shook the whole restaurant. Jason finally got to meet Scott who had put on some more weight in the month since the debacle. His tent-sized jersey was actually getting small. It rode up at the bottom, exposing stretch marks across the fresh flab. Jason figured that once a week would still keep him away from being the size of these guys. After all, their order were far bigger than his. One guy ate corn dogs non-stop the whole first quarter just to order a meal afterwards with Uncle Mac’s usual giant portions. 
Every week, Jason had a platter with the game and watched in bewilderment as the waiters cheered on their increasing growth. The waiters marked every single sign of weight gain: popped buttons, snapped belts, a new double chin. The whole restaurant would erupt in thunderous applause if one of the chairs gave out under someone. Every time it happened, it made the waiters push out more food at the next game. Jason and the rest of the fan club would keep absentmindedly chewing on every fat-riddled snack as long as football was on. Mac would make up specials just for his increasingly hungry fan club. Jason thought he was just a passive observer until one day it was his turn. 
The week before Christmas, Jason was making plans now that it looked like the team was going to the playoffs. He was walking past the section of booths when another big guy was coming down the aisle. Without thinking, Jason goes:
“Excuse me, let me just squeeze past you.” Jason turned sideways and knocked a set of silverware off the table. He bent over and a memory flashed in his mind from that morning. Trying to jump and yank those pants over his thighs and ass had rattled the windows.  His poor wife had to help him button them up because they would not snap closed and he couldn’t see under his belly. A little extra tension on those pants was too much for those threads. The crackling sound of the rip made the whole restaurant turn around. Jason scooped up the silverware and then scurried away. 
That was not the most embarrassing moment of his first year, though. The week of the conference final at the end of January, Jason got a message saying they wanted to honor him with an award at the next game. He happily obliged and found some new tailored clothes for the occasion. Nevermind that the tailoring actually made all the fold of his moobs and belly more pronounced for national television. No, the worst was when he was lined up with some of the greats of his team and they gave them special seats. Jason lowered himself and realized that he was having a little difficulty. The hard plastic pinched at his sides. His ass wouldn't quite settle. Jason realized that now he was just like Scott. He was now the giant fat man too big to enjoy football in the stadium, and anyone with a screen could watch it happen in real time. 
Mac immediately sent him a text that read, “You are officially an Uncle Mac’s spokesperson. The restaurant is yours as many seasons as you want it or at least as long as you can waddle through my doors. Look at everyone who came!”Mac sent a picture where every corner of the frame was filled with an ocean of fat wearing the tattered remains of team merch they had outgrown. Even Scott was grinning with his ass overflowing two chairs and a pair of team sweatpants with giant holes where his thighs had worn down the fabric. Mac sent another text, “We have the old jersey you didn’t finish busting through waiting on you.”
Jason looked down the row and saw some of the other fat guys trying to adjust their flab in the narrow seats. He called out, “Hey, who wants a bit to eat?”
25 notes · View notes
friend-crow · 1 year
Note
could you share your roux secrets please?
also, it might just be because I’m english but I’ve never heard of having roux with breakfast - what do you have it with, if you don’t mind me asking?
The roux is just the base for the breakfast gravy. We do (American) biscuits and gravy for breakfast here. Usually sausage or some other form of white gravy.
So, you start by heating some fat. Maybe you're having bacon with breakfast (streaky bacon, since you're English), in which case you can use the fat left in the pan after making bacon. Other options are butter, oil, maybe some grease left from cooking sausage, if you're making sausage gravy. Other animal fats work too (forgetting breakfast for a moment, you can use drippings from a roast to make gravy for a dinner).
So you heat the fat (medium-low), then you add flour. In theory it's equal parts by weight, but I ain't weighing shit, especially when it's just leftover fat that's already in the pan -- I just eyeball it and sprinkle in one spoonful at a time, whisking it with a fork or a whisk until the liquid fat has been thickened and is approaching a paste-like consistency. You cook this mixture until it turns golden brown.
That's it. That's the roux.
Now if you're making gravy you can slowly add milk for a white gravy, at bit at a time so you don't get lumps. For a brown gravy you add broth (also you'd typically want to brown the roux a little darker than you would for a white gravy or sauce).
Creamy pasta sauce? Add milk (this gets you a bechamel sauce, which is a great starting point for mac and cheese), garlic, and perhaps some cheese.
Soup? Add broth and whatever other elements you're putting in the soup.
It's just two ingredients, but it's the stepping stone to many delicious things.
You can also use cornstarch instead of flour, but I'm not a fan of the more gelatinous consistency it produces.
203 notes · View notes
sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months
Text
✧ 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 || 𝘤𝘩𝘭𝘰𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 ♔
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a guide to the music chloe has created
Tumblr media
notes: each ep and album have a meaning behind their release date and announcmenet date so read them (if you want of course), if it has no reason it is because the month and the date adds up to 11. things add up to 11 it's for a reason. lyric changes are at the end along with other songs she has created that aren't in her ep/album. the one song where there is a featuring artist, the name in parentheses is the one for the au, will (her ex boyfriend)
three birds and a stone ➺ spotify playlist!
release date: may 14th, 2018 (her and jack's 17th birthday)announcement date: february 9th, 2018 about: chloe’s first ep and it’s about the three most important people in her life. right now is the top track on this ep along with you might not like her. right now and footprints are about her brothers, the three birds, as the other tracks are about herself, the stone. 
➸ all-american bitch // olivia rodrigo ➸ insecurities // liv reichley ➸ right now // gracie abrams ➸ footprints // molly kate kestner ➸ you might not like her // maddie zahm ➸ brutal // olivia rodrigo
✧༺✎༻∞
things for later ➺ spotify playlist!
release date: july 7th, 2019 (what would've been her and hayden's 3 year anniversary) announcement date: may 6th, 2019 about: ‘things for later’ is something chloe made to tell her experience with her ex, hayden. each song on this ep is for her fans as things to remember for later. her top tracks on this album are you just wanted sex and self sabotage. the relationship she had with hayden was one of the worst things that had ever happened to her and she wanted to tell people about the things he did to her and the only way she could was through music.
➸ 1 step forward, 3 steps back // olivia rodrigo ➸ traitor // olivia rodrigo ➸ self sabotage // lexi jayde ➸ you just wanted sex // lexi jayde ➸ pain killers // gracie abrams ➸ deja vu // olivia rodrigo
✧༺✎༻∞
i miss you ➺ spotify playlist!
release date: august 21st, 2021 (what would've been her and trevor's anniversary)announcement date: june 5th, 2021 about: these songs were created right after trevor broke up with her. her initial thoughts during the breakup and the phone call, plus what she felt right afterward. the tracks tell her story of how she felt in each phase of the breakup. teenage dream reflects her thinking right after the call and favorite crime is what she thinks of their relationship later. top tracks include teenage dream, i miss you, i’m sorry, the grudge, cruel intentions, and favorite crime.
➸ teenage dream // olivia rodrigo ➸ i miss you, i’m sorry // gracie abrams ➸ feel like shit // tate mcrae ➸ i should hate you // gracie abrams ➸ suitcase // live reichel feat. kelly bright (will andersen) ➸ logical // olivia rodrigo ➸ enough for you // olivia rodrigo ➸ the grudge // olivia rodrigo ➸ came to the party for you // lexi jayde ➸ friend // gravie abrams ➸ cruel intentions // lexi jayde ➸ you broke me first // tate mcrae ➸ favorite crime // olivia rodrigo
✧༺✎༻∞
i'm sorry ➺ spotify playlist!
release date: march 20th, 2022 (trevor's birthday) announcement date: october 13th, 2021 (anaheim's first game of the season) about: i’m sorry isn’t about chloe being sorry to trevor about their relationship, it’s about her being sorry about these songs, ‘i’m sorry for what I said/what i’m doing’ basically. she feels so petty especially with the way he broke up with her, so a lot of the tracks are her being a bitch to him as he deserved it. some of the songs are still sad but in the fact that that’s how he made her feel in result of his actions. top songs are i hate boston, another man’s jeans, feather, bet u wanna, exes, jealousy, jealousy, and pretty isn’t pretty.
➸ you don’t deserve these tears // lexi jayde ➸ i hate boston // reneé rapp ➸ love is embarrassing // olivia rodrigo ➸ someday // lexi jayde ➸ vicious // sabrina carpenter ➸ get him back! // olivia rodrigo ➸ another man’s jeans // ashe ➸ feather // sabrina carpenter ➸ bet u wanna // sabrina carpenter ➸ exes // tate mcrae ➸ jealousy, jealousy // olivia rodrigo ➸ pretty isn’t pretty // olivia rodrigo ➸ ballad of a homeschooled girl // olivia rodrigo ➸ good 4 u // olivia rodrigo
✧༺✎༻∞
if i died now, i'd die happy ➺ spotify playlist!
release date: february 11th, 2024 (3 day's before valentine's day and her and trevor's number) announcement date: december 25th, 2023 (her christmas gift) about: now that she and trevor have decided to get back together and their communication is so much better than before, she decides to release all of the songs she wrote about him previously and the ones she’s written since they got back together. she is so proud of these songs and wishes she had released them anyway, but she’s also glad they are together again and now they mean something more. nonsense, dream boy, gentle, someone to stay
➸ nonsense // sabrina carpenter ➸ j’s lullabye (darlin’ i’d wait for you) // delaney bailey ➸ dream boy // beach bunny ➸ cloud 9 // beach bunny ➸ gentle // lexi jayde ➸ to love // suki waterhouse ➸ die first // nessa barrett ➸ i think i kinda, you know // olivia rodrigo ➸ the best part // olivia rodrigo ➸ biggest fan // maddie zahm ➸ my earth angel // molly kate kestner ➸ someone to stay // vancouver cleep clinic
✧༺✎༻∞
other songs by chloe
➸ making the bed // olivia rodrigo
➸ driver's license // olivia rodrigo
➸ vampire // olivia rodrigo
✧༺✎༻∞
lyric changes
song: another man's jeans ~ ashe | original lyric: oh los angeles is fine | new lyric: oh anaheim is fine
Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
tagged by: @simplegenius042 @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat and @thesingularityseries (thank you all!!)
tagging: @shallow-gravy @cassietrn @strangefable @stacispratt @eclecticwildflowers @ladyofedens-blog @poetikat @florbelles @v0idbuggy @theelderhazelnut @marivenah @josephslittledeputy @peppertheferalraccoon @neverthesameneveranother @statichvm @strafethesesinners @adelaidedrubman @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @voidika @roofgeese @nightbloodbix @confidentandgood @henbased @derelictheretic @trench-rot @chazz-anova @wrathfulrook @aceghosts @g0dspeeed @jillvalentinesday @madparadoxum (no pressure) and anyone else with something to share :)
Welp work continues on the current chapter of American Beasts, and it has become very Hurk and Sharky centric (thus making me take much longer to write it since I still struggle to get their voices right) anyhoo here's a bit of that, including some Adelaide Drubman. So warnings for discussions of a sexual nature towards the end because well Addie...:
Sitting out on the dock, the still lake lapped quietly against the wood beams below them, the warm afternoon sun beating down upon them, and despite the chill wind that blew it was comfortable to just sit outside and relax, especially considering it had snowed so recently and there was still remnants of it on the ground. 
Hurk leaned back in his deck chair, swigging back on his beer as his mother opened up a new stream of discussion.  
“Did y’all see the latest cult video? Had our friend the Deputy in it and everything. Though I guess we can’t call her that anymore.” Adelaide swigged back on a bottle of tequila as she leaned into Xander sharing a reclining deck chair with him. “Jesus, the way she tore that poor Peggie fuck apart. If it wasn’t a goddamn snuff film I’d be hornier for her.” She shook with a shiver and took another drink. “Who knew someone could be more of a monster than Jacob Seed?”
Sharky looked between the members of the group, eyes growing wide like a lost puppy. He was quiet, uncharacteristically so. 
Adelaide continued, “Can’t say I'm surprised she joined up with them. I had her pegged as a fan of that mountain man from the get go. Always knew under all that straight laced bullshit she was a freak underneath.”
“Wait, what?” Sharky sat forward in his seat, his hands quickly falling from the front pocket of his favorite hoodie. 
All eyes suddenly fell upon the pyromaniac, and Adelaide continued, “Oh yeah, I mean that little get up she had? The rubber apron with just her panties on. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good look for her but I’m surprised Joseph was okay with that sort of appearance.”
Sharky’s expression didn’t change, looking no more aware of what Adelaide was talking about. 
“Wait, you’re not talking about that, are you Sharky? Do you not know?” Adelaide’s head whipped around to face Hurk. “Has he not seen the video? I figured everyone had at this point, considerin’ it played across the county.”
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Sharky became more insistent. 
“Sharky, the Deputy,” Adelaide spoke quieter like she was reasoning with a young child. “Cross – she’s gone cult.”
“Nah, fuck off.” Sharky chuckled as if it was still just a joke. “Why would she want to join them? It’s like Hurky always says: no drugs, no alcohol, no fuckin’? No way she’d be into that.”
“Well based off how things have gone for her up in the mountains it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s been takin’ part in a little afternoon delight with Jacob.”
“What? Dude looks like an overcooked lasagna.”
“It’s the stature. The man has those big, broad shoulders and all that height.” Adelaide purred as she listed the pros of the eldest Seed in her head. “Plus. a woman like Cross? She’s probably into the rough stuff which I'm sure that caveman more than delivers on. He had her kept in a cage all that time at Saint Francis, can’t tell me they weren’t makin’ good use of it. Probably kinksters the both of ‘em.”
46 notes · View notes