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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

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Little Backstabber

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader

Warning: Angst, angst just pure angst, some fluff, Max is a Toto apologist, the reader is just hurting, Max has no respect for that

Requested: Yes/No

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.3K

A/N: Hahahahaha I’m sorry (not really)

Part 1: Little Traitor

Pt.3 Little Heartbreaker

Breaking News: Max Verstappen and Y/N Wolff Announce Their Engagement

Toto stares out the window as Susie reads the newspaper out loud during breakfast. Laying the newspaper down, she gazes at her husband as he doesn't say a word, not even turning to acknowledge what she has read.

"Toto, maybe tell her how happy you are for her?" Susie mumbles over her coffee cup, which has his eyes cut to her.

"I called my daughter a slut; she doesn't want to hear from me. But, can you?" He asks, laying his glasses down as he rubs his eyes.

"No, I will not." Susie snips, sitting her cup down harshly.

He just nods, not preaching the topic anymore since it's been a strain between them.

"Y/n? Angel? Where are you?" Max yells, seeing your boxes piled up in his place, but it doesn't make him angry; pride and other cavemen's feelings cover his mind as he stops seeing you in the kitchen.

You danced in the kitchen wearing a Redbull shirt and dark blue panties, clearly, nothing else. Hair is thrown up, and you are just enjoying yourself.

"God, I love you." He whispers, still not letting you know he is home. Home. It was weird for you to call this place home, but it felt right.

You spin around but stop halfway to seeing the figure and scream.

Max laughs, which calms you down immediately, knowing it is your fiance and not some stranger. You hold your chest, trying to calm down as he just reduces to giggles walking up to you, pulling your hands gently. You let him pull your body into his, both bodies molding perfectly in the hug as he whispers comforting words.

"You scared me." You laugh, rubbing his back as his chest shakes yours with his laugh again.

"Oh het spijt me, zat gewoon naar mijn bloedmooie verloofde te staren." (Oh I'm sorry, was just staring at my gorgeous fiancee) He laughs making you slap his chest.

You've started to perfect your Dutch after Max proposed to you; you had always spoken Dutch, but not comfortably, and now you could converse with him.

"The press released our engagement announcement today. It's in the newspapers." He mumbles, leaning back slightly to kiss your forehead.

"Yes, I know. Susie sent her congratulations." Your tone sour.

After everything with your father, you refused to go anywhere near Mercedes, even keeping away from Lewis and Geroge, who sided with your father. Your stepmother tried her best, but you didn't want to talk to them, much less think about them. Max makes a noise but doesn't say anything. There have been multiple arguments about your family and what to do regarding the wedding. You didn't want them there, no invitations or anything. Why should people who constantly let you down throughout your life be welcomed to the day of embracing your new one?

"Don't, Max." You noted the noise and pulled away from him, returning to the counter and fixing lunch for the both of you.

"I just......he's your father. He should be there when we're married." He groans, pulling his hair slightly with annoyance.

"No." Is all you say, making Max drop the conversation and look over your shoulder at what you're preparing. He smiles, seeing the potatoes, onion, carrot, and cabbage beside the smoked sausages.

"You're making Stamppot?" He asks, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder, able to see the tension fade away.

"Yes, it's slightly chilly out, and I figured it'd be good and healthy since you can't eat certain foods." You mumble, trying to get around your irritation with Max.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, touching your wrist and stopping you from chopping the cabbage.

"Just, why can't you understand? You were able to work out your issues with your father, but mine? I can't. So stop." You pull your wrist away from his fingers and continue chopping the cabbage.

Max nods his head and walks away, heading to his Sim. Hearing his footsteps enter the den, you drop your head and stare at the gorgeous ring on your finger. It's a stunning natural blue sapphire with a daisy oval shape, little diamonds aline it, with a gold band holding it all together. Max had the ring specially crafted for you; he had the idea of the ring for a while now. He knew you weren't big on diamonds, so he set on a sapphire. Cliche, but he picked one closest to the RB color, a final stamp to show people that you were his and you weren't going anywhere.

You loved the ring, Max, and your little life together. It terrified you that if your father came back into your life, to your wedding. He'd ruin it all. Shaking off the evil thoughts, you get back to cooking the lunch. Time passes with you cooking and listening to Max curse the Sim, potting the Stamppot. You gently carry Max's bowel to him and sit it on the desk.

Max pauses it immediately and turns around in his chair, looking up at you; from the look on his face, he clearly has something to say.

"If it's about my father, keep it to yourself." You warn, Max automatically turning back around to the Sim and hitting play.

"I think you'll regret it." Max mumbles, but you ignore the comment and head to the bedroom sitting on the bed.

You reach under the bed, pull out this little black box, and open it, your father and your smiling face greeting you. You kept all your childhood pictures of your father or postcards from when he was traveling around the world. Each one had his familiar writing on the back, each word etched into your brain. Each praise, love, how much he loved you, missed you, couldn't wait to see you. Where did it all go wrong? Why did he leave you? Why weren't you worthy or made him proud enough? Why?

Swallowing the tears, you put the lid back on and slide it back under the bed. Max stands at the cracked door, watching you hide the box, the one you thought he knew nothing of. He knew your father should be at the wedding, he knew that's what you wanted, but you couldn't see past your anger and hurt. Max understood, but he knew the best for the both of you would be inviting Toto to the wedding.

Stepping away from the door, he grabs his phone and pulls up Toto's number. Don't ask why he has it. He just does.

You're invited to the wedding, don't fuck up this opportunity; see you on July 1st at 7 pm at Hotel de Paris.

Max hits sent and watches as the text is read automatically. The 3 bubbles pop up and then go away. This continues for about 15 minutes until the text returns, making Max scuff slightly, but glad to see Toto answered.

Thank you for the invite, we'll be there.

Clearly, Suise was helping the man answer the text, but in the end, Toto gave his curt answer, and that was that. Max wasn't going to tell you what he had done, but he knew that you'd come around in time for the wedding and invite Toto and Suise, but it was his secret for now. Of course, telling Toto you had no idea he was invited doesn't occur to him, but he'll worry about that later.

"Baby?" Max yells down the hall, and you emerge quickly, worried something is wrong.

"What?" You ask, looking around the apartment, ready for an issue, but all he sees is Max sitting on the couch.

"I apologize. I know the relationship with your father isn't like mine, and I should leave it be, and I will. No more talk about it. I'll let you go at your own pace. But just know, if we have kids, he needs a chance, and that's all I'm saying on the topic." Max sighs, catching his breath from his little rant.

"I love you." You whisper, walking over and kissing him. Max smiles and pulls you down, having you lay on top of him.

At this moment, everything was perfect, until 4 weeks later.

You're walking home when you see a present sitting at your door, you weren't expecting a package so you look at the address and see it was from Susie. Sighing, you lean down and pick it up. Shocked by the weight, you stumble into the place and set it on the coffee table. Opening the box, you pull out the brown paper and freeze, seeing what is in the box.

There was a transparent glass collage of you and Max lined with your favorite flowers, and on the bottom were gold words engraved.

If I were the moon, I would want you to be my night

You stare at the words, knowing those words deeply. Your father always wrote quotes on the back of your postcards. This was the last quote he wrote you before it all fell apart. You pick up one of the smaller boxes with shaky hands and open it. You can't help the tears that start to fall.

It was this small tiara, but not any tiara. It was a baroque crystal pearl tiara with very two rows of diamonds; on the top, pearls sat on top. It was gorgeous, but you felt your inner child's heartbreak. He remembered. When you were younger, you and your father walked past this old antique boutique in the front window and sat this same tiara; it was crazy expensive. You didn't even tell Toto that you wanted the tiara; you just stared at it and then kept walking down the street. But he did remember, after dropping you off at your mother's, he circled back and bought it. He kept it for the day you'd get married and thought he would hand it to you in person, telling you how much he loved you and was proud of the woman you've become, but instead.....he had to send it to you through a box.

Sitting down, you grab the last box, opening it as a watch for Max. On the back was the first date you two ever had. But, the inscription was in Toto's handwriting. How he knew it that date was beyond your knowledge. Something catches your eye, making you sit the watch down to pick it up. It was a card.

Opening the card, you scan the words, but one sentence catches your attention.

Thank you for the invitation, we can't wait to see you and Y/n tie the knot. Much love from Susie and Toto

You stare at the words before they dawn on you. Max. He invited them. After you told him you didn't want them there, he still asked them and did it without notifying you. Time passed by you, and nothing made you move until you heard Max's keys in the door.

"Hey love, I'm home!" Max called, having a great day. He couldn't wait to see you.

Walking into the living room, he smiles brightly seeing you but stops seeing the emotionless look on your face. He looks at the box and then back to you before you slam the card down, finally looking at him.

"You bastard." You whisper, shaking your head. You feel this hot rage boiling inside you, but your throat gets tighter and tighter with each passing of time.

"He's your father." He whispers, knowing what the box means. Toto must've sent a gift or something and probably told you on a card that he was invited.

"He LEFT ME!" You scream, moving away from the box to stand before Max.

"You both left each other! Why can't you see that he's been trying!" Max snaps, tired of this back-and-forth argument.

"I was 14. What do you want from me, Max? He was the adult; he should've tried. It's not my job!" You yell, not wanting to talk about this anymore.

"When he reached out to you, we were 16, we had just had our first date, and he called you. You didn't answer the phone and said you'd call him back. But you never did. That showed him you didn't care anymore. Why would he try with someone who didn't even try either." Max argues. This shocks you. How could someone who not even 6 months ago defend you against your father was now being his most prominent advocate.

"Be..because I was a kid." You retort, lost for words.

"See, you can't tell me why you're still angry at him. We're adults, Y/n, let the past be the past." Max sighs, running his fingers through his hair before reaching for you.

You pull away from his reach; hurt and rejection shatter Max's face as he slowly drops his arms. You take a few deep breaths, fiddling with the ring. Max watches, panic overtaking any sense he has.

"Don't, don't do this." He whispers, staring at the ring on your finger.

"How can I marry someone who doesn't respect my wishes, someone who defends the man who called me a slut. The person who made me feel less of myself my entire life, and here the person who is supposed to protect, stand by me, and love me, defends them. How can I marry you after this?" You ask, pulling the ring off.

"No, please, Y/n, don't." Max breaks. He can't keep it together anymore as he watches you sit the ring before him. Tears slide down his face as he watches you grab your shoes and keys.

"Don't leave me, don't please. Not again." He whispers, grabbing you as you try to hide your own tears.

"You betrayed me." You whisper, pulling yourself out of his hold and walking out the door. As you close the door, all you hear is a scream and glass shattering as you walk away from the love of your life.

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trashmouth-richie · 6 months

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masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers

Toothpaste

Noodles

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran”

Peanut butter

Sunny D

Thyme

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :)

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero.

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop.

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him.

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs.

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her.

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.”

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket.

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer.

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.”

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.”

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.”

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach.

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished.

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls.

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips.

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them.

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even.

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?”

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides.

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face.

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief.

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?”

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.”

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?”

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs,

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

—

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly.

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled.

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours.

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before.

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife.

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold.

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home.

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from.

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids.

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer.

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come.

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess.

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items.

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables.

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking.

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair.

“Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?”

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.”

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away.

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family.

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy.

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit.

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior.

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa.

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies.

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to.

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying.

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left.

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like.

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is.

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.”

The end

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine @b-irock @enam3l @luxaeterna13 @manda-panda-monium @elthreetimes @joejoequinnquinn

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #honey i’m home #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things

493 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 6 months

Text

Huh. Realized I made a soup from leftovers that would make a pretty decent beginner soup.

Leftover Turkey Pot Pie Soup

The goal of this soup is to be (relatively) quick and easy to prepare and to make use out of leftover poultry. It relies pretty heavily on pre-made ingredients (though you can make those ingredients yourself if you want to)

Ingredients:

Pre-cooked turkey or chicken (one large turkey breast, two medium chicken breasts). You can use leftovers, a grocery store rotisserie chicken, or, optionally, uncooked frozen chicken breasts or thighs. The poultry should not be breaded and the skin should be removed; if you are using uncooked frozen poultry you may want to taste more carefully and make sure to season sufficiently.

64oz poultry or vegetable stock (I used the stock I made out of turkey carcasses and my stock bags of kitchen trimmings from the freezer, but store bought is fine) (if you do not want to or cannot use stock, you can also just use water but you will likely have to add more spices and I would recommend adding one extra carrot and one extra onion)

3tbsp Cooking oil (can be olive oil or canola oil or butter - use what you've got handy and what tastes good to you, you don't have to buy something special for this)

1 cup of frozen peas

2 large carrots coarsely chopped

2 large onions coarsely chopped

3 tbsp cooking starch (most people use corn starch, I use potato starch because of food allergies. Any neutrally flavored starch is fine, but do not use flour).

1/2 cup milk/half and half/cream (you can use a combination or just one of these, it depends on what's in your kitchen and what taste you prefer)

Poultry seasoning (pre-made mix; alternately you can add sage, rosemary, and marjoram to taste. I added poultry seasoning then added extra sage and rosemary)

Salt

Black pepper

Paprika

Garlic powder

3 Bay Leaves

1tsp dried Parsley

Tools:

4-6 quart stock pot with a close-fitting lid

Chef's knife (for chopping vegetables and poultry)

Cutting board

Large cooking spoon

Small bowl

Fork or small whisk

Before you cook:

Read the entire recipe and check that you have all the tools and ingredients listed in your kitchen and ready for use.

Prep your kitchen - make sure there's room in the trash can, that the sink is clear of dishes, and that there is a burner on the stove clear for your pot. Designate a space close to the stove as your working area and set your cutting board there so you can easily transfer from your cutting board to the pot.

Gather your ingredients - make sure that you've got all the tools and ingredients listed. If you want to, you can take the time to measure out everything at this stage and have it ready to go in the pot.

Prep your ingredients - wash and chop your carrots, peel and chop your onions. Remove the skin from your poultry (if frozen, set the poultry aside, you will do something slightly different) and chop into bite-sized pieces.

Cooking Instructions:

Turn the heat on your stove to medium and warm the oil up in the bottom of the pan. Once it is shimmering and flowing easily, add the chopped carrots and onions to the pan.

Add a small amount of each of your seasonings to the pot - no more than half a teaspoon of each at this stage - and stir them in with the vegetables.

Stirring continuously, heat the vegetables and spices until the onions are softened and translucent.

If you are using pre-cooked poultry, add it to the pot and stir it in with the vegetables and spices (if you are using raw frozen poultry, don't add it to the pot yet). Add in the frozen peas at this point.

Add your broth or stock to the pot and stir, using your spoon to scrape the bottom of the pot to make sure nothing is sticking to the bottom. Add the bay leaves to your pot. Increase the heat to high and watch the pot until it comes to a boil.

If you are using raw frozen poultry, NOW add the frozen meat (whole breasts or thighs still frozen) to the pot and bring to a boil. For raw frozen poultry ONLY keep the pot covered at a boil for thirty minutes, watching to make sure it doesn't boil over. Once the poultry has cooked for thirty minutes, use your spoon to remove the pieces from the pot and set them on your cutting board, then cut them into bite-sized pieces. Instructions are the same regardless of what meat you're using after this step.

Once the previous steps are finished, reduce the heat to a low simmer and cover the pot. Let simmer for half an hour.

Taste the soup and add spices and seasonings as needed. You will probably want to add more salt first, half a teaspoon at a time. Add in your salt then stir and simmer for five minutes before tasting again. Repeat as needed, adding spices in small amounts to adjust the flavor as you go.

Once the flavor is close to right, mix the milk and the starch in a small bowl, whisking thoroughly to ensure that there are no lumps. Gradually add the starch slurry to the soup a few tablespoons at a time. Stir between increments, checking for thickness. When the soup is at the desired thickness (should be quite thick, like what you would find inside of a pot pie) taste test the soup and adjust spices as needed.

Add parsley and do a final taste test, simmer for five minutes before serving.

If you want, you can let the soup cool and fill a pre-made pie crust with it (top and bottom crust, making sure to leave holes for venting) then bake in a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven for 40 minutes or until the crust is golden brown.

For the slurry, I like to use 2:1 liquid to starch when mixing an use half and half for the slurry but add a couple of tablespoons of heavy cream after the soup has started to thicken; this is totally optional and if you just go based on what's in the recipe you should be fine.

How to make homemade stock, if you want to:

as you cook over the course of several weeks, gather things like onion tops, the ends of tomatoes, wilty celery, and whatever other safe-to-eat but unpleasant vegetable trimmings you've got and add them to a 1-gallon freezer bag.

Keep the bag in the freezer and add stuff until the bag is full. Once it's full, or if you happen to have a chicken or turkey carcass and a mostly-full bag, add the frozen trimmings and any meat trimmings or carcasses you have to a large stock pot (at least a two gallon pot).

Add in a few cloves of garlic and a few bay leaves

Add in water until the vegetables and trimmings are completely covered.

Bring to a boil.

Reduce heat and let simmer for a minimum of two hours.

Turn off the heat and let cool

Spoon or strain out the solids - one way to do this is to pour from the pot into a collander and into another large pot. You can also use a slotted spoon or a strainer or ladle out the liquid from the stock pot, but you want to discard the solids and keep the liquids.

Skim excess or undesired fat off of the stock and discard.

Ladle or pour the stock into containers for storage. I like to use cleaned salsa jars and leave about 20% of the space in the jar free, then freeze the stock in jars so I can use it whenever I want to.

If you aren't freezing the stock, use it within two weeks.

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pathetichimbos · 7 months

Text

First Meeting - Part Five

((part four here)) ((part six here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92 @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn

---

You’ve run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

Luda Mae didn't say much else after your confrontation, only directing you on where they kept the empty egg cartons once you were done drying the eggs and which fridge to put them in.

She tasks you with helping with dinner, leaving you in charge of cutting the vegetables she needs for the beef stew she was planning to make later in the day.

Okra, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, celery... This stew was packed full of everything, a big and filling meal, a recurring theme you could already see playing out in this house.

The Hewitts clearly didn't lack in food, making enough for everyone and more, their fridges stockpiled with everything any person could need, from fresh fruits and vegetables to drawers full of home packaged meats.

Luda Mae begins preparing lunch as you chop the vegetables, the radio filling the silence between the two of you as you think of something to say, trying to find a way to fix the awkwardness you had created.

Before you get the chance, however, Luda Mae breaks the silence herself, "Go fetch Monty and Thomas for lunch."

"Right." You drop the last of the now chopped vegetables into a large bowl with the rest of them, "...Where are they?"

"Monty'll be on the front porch, with that damn yappin' mutt of his. Tommy'll be in the basement, straight down the hall."

"Ok, where do you want me to put these?" You grab the bowl off the counter.

"Put 'em in the fridge for now."

"Yes ma'am." You do as you're told, going to the front porch first.

You push the screen doors open with a sqeual, the two wooden doors already wide open to help air flow through the house.

You step onto the porch, swinging your head right to the empty swing, then left to see Monty at the other end of the porch, sleeping dog curled up in his lap.

"Hello?" You ask, as he doesn't seem to react to your presence at all.

No response.

You step closer, and the faint sounds of snoring make it apparent he's fallen asleep. You take another step, reaching a hand out to touch the back of his wheelchair in an attempt to wake him.

But, instead of waking him, you wake his dog, who jumps up as soon as your hand touches the chair, barking ferociously at you.

You jump back, pulling your hand away as Monty wakes up with a jolt, looking around confused.

"What the-- Roxanne, shut up!" He hollers at the dog before spotting you, already grumpy at being woken up, "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"I, uh... I'm supposed to tell you lunch's ready?" You take a step back, unsure of what else to tell him.

"Aw, hell." He huffs, turning towards the front door and making his way across the porch, yelling out, "Luda Mae!"

You step out of the way to let him pass before quickly following behind, making sure to reach up and open the screen door for him.

"I don't need your damn help." He mutters, pushing the other screen door open with his cane and making his way inside, "Luda Mae!"

"What the hell are you yellin' about now, Monty!?" She calls back from the kitchen.

"What is this person doin' in my damn house!?"

"Your house!?"

You ignore the rest of the conversation, quickly walking past the kitchen as they argue, following Luda Mae's previous instructions and going straight down the hall.

This end of the hall is dark, a stark contrast to the rest of the house. There's a single step into a small room, and when you try the switch it doesn't work.

The large metal door is daunting, not like any basment door you've seen, towering over you in the dark like a threat.

Just like a horror movie... You can't help but to think, stepping forward and looking for a door handle.

You don't find one, your fingers running across the cold metal in the dark, feeling for a way to open it. Instead, your fingers catch on the side, and with a little more looking, you realize it's a sliding door.

Gripping the edge of the door, you pull as hard as you can, the heavy metal scraping as it slowly pulls open, working against you as if it didn't want you to open it at all.

You give up once you get enough space to squeeze through, leaving it partially closed as you step inside.

You're immediately met with a faint, foul smell, and a wooden staircase going down into a wall before turning into the rest of the basement hidden from your view. You can hear someone moving around down there, a faint light creeping up the stairs.

"Thomas?" You call out from the top platform, shifting in place. The basement was already terrifying you, and you hadn't even taken the first step down, "You down here?"

You hear metal clatter, and something drop before heavy footsteps make their way over to the stairs. Thomas comes up to the second platform, a rag in hand as he wipes off his hands and arms. You can't see what he's wiping off, and you're sure you don't want to.

"Lunch is ready." You tell him, Luda Mae's and Monty's yelling loud enough to echo into the basement as you give an awkward smile, trying to make light of the situation, "...I don't think Monty likes havin' me here much."

Thomas lets out a small amused huff, well aware of his uncle's habit of looking for a reason to have a problem.

"Are you coming up?" You ask, and he nods, tilting his head towards the basement as if to say he'd be up in a minute, "Alright, I'll tell Luda Mae."

You step back out of the basement, barely managing to push the door shut again.

You can hear the arguement finishing up as you head back into the kitchen, managing to catch the end tail of Luda Mae shutting it down, "...Sit down and eat so you can shut the hell up. Ain't no damn reason for you to be mad right now."

Monty grumbles something else too quietly for you to hear as you step back in, already stuffing his mouth full of the lunch Luda Mae prepared.

"Thomas says he'll be up in a minute." You break the silence, tension thick as you take a seat at the kitchen table.

Monty rolls his eyes, smacking around a full mouth, "Oh, what'a big help you are."

Taken aback by the sudden insult, you look between the two of them, beginning to pick at your own plate of food.

"Ignore him. He's just mad at nothin'." Luda Mae sets two more plates down before taking the seat beside him, "Don't talk with your mouth full, you damn fool."

He huffs again, glaring down at the plate of food as if it's responsible for everything wrong in the world, though you had an inkling suspicous he was directing those feelings towards you.

Another minute passes in silence, as the three of you sit and eat, your plate signifigantly less full than theirs, a request you gave Luda Mae earlier as to not waste any food you couldn't eat.

"...This is really good." You finally speak up, the silence driving you mad.

"Thank you. At least someone's appreciative." Luda Mae gives Monty a pointed look.

"Ain't suppos'ta talk wi'f my mou'f full." He makes a point of talking around a large bite of food.

It's her turn to roll her eyes as she turns back to her own plate of food.

"Why are you here anyhow? You get kicked out of your own house for bein' a druggie or somethin'?" Monty abruptly asks.

"Damnit, Monty--!"

"No, it's alright." You shrug, "I don't mind."

The smug look on his face almost makes you want to take it back, but you ignore him as you start explaining, "Mama drinks too much and Dad ain't around. Just seemed easier to go out on my own than to try and fix someone who doesn't wanna change."

"And it's also none of your damn business." Luda Mae points out.

"It's my damn business when it's in my damn house."

She scoffs, about to say something else when Thomas walks in the room, opting instead for saying nothing else, simply giving Monty a silent warning glare not to say another word.

"Hi..." You mutter, looking up at Thomas as he sits down, unbelievably relieved to have him in the room.

He looks around the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife between Luda Mae and Monty, creating an awkward environment for everyone in the room.

You stare down at the table, picking at your plate as you steal glances between the two of them before catching a glimpse at Thomas, who was doing the same as you.

You look at him, and then back at the other two. He nods, apparently sharing your thoughts.

You bite your lip, glancing between the two of them and Thomas. Perhaps it was the overly exaggerated look of anger on Monty's face, or the way Luda Mae continues making annoyed facial expressions, as if she was still arguing with him in her head, but suddenly you find yourself struggling not to laugh.

Thomas seems to be thinking the same thing, food untouched in front of him as he tries to fight off a smirk under his mask.

You place your arm on the table, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you look away, almost visible shaking from trying to stifle your laughter. It was like being a kid again, sitting between your parents trying have a serious arguement over the stupidest thing they could possibly think of, completely aware of how much trouble you could get into for laughing but unable to stop yourself from chuckling at their overdramatic antics.

The rest of the meal is spent in silence, you and Thomas stealing glances at each other and stifling your amusement at the two.

After everyone finishes you gather the dishes, helping Luda Mae wash them, the awkwardness long gone since Monty went to his room to take a nap.

You wash the plates and silverware in silence, Luda Mae drying and putting them away.

It's still early in the afternoon, and she's got nothing else to do, giving you plenty of time to grab your book and settle on the living room couch.

Luda Mae sits on a love seat on the other side of the living room, crotcheting something you couldn't quite make out. Perhaps it was too early in her project, or perhaps she was just shit at crotcheting. You don't bother to ask, content with reading over your book as an old song drifts through the air, dripping with static as the old radio pushes it out of it's speakers.

You pull your feet onto the cushion, leaning on the arm of the couch as your eyes read over the familar words for the hundreth time.

It's easy this way.

Easy to not ask questions.

Easy to pretend everything's normal.

Easy to forget what happened yesterday.

At least, it was.

The words are too familar, you know them too well.

They begin to blend together on the page, losing your focus as your mind begins to wander, the words changing and shifting until you're back in the pantry, watching Katie cry and plead for her life, helplessly yanking against her constrains.

You clench your eyes shut, her screams echoing in your mind as you shake your head, pushing the memory to the back of your mind, letting it settle in your chest like a gnawing guilt, reminding you that you could have done something different.

You're caught off guard when Thomas walks in the room, taking a seat on the couch and catching your attention. He's changed out of the grimey clothes he had on before lunch, now adorning a clean, navy blue dress shirt and jeans.

You look back down to your book, trying to refocus on the words and keep your mind away from yesterday, away from the thing that made you scared of him.

It doesn't work, and you close it, setting it down beside you as you sit up, leaning back and letting your head hang back as you stare at the ceiling.

You feel a tap on your hand, and you look over to see a concerned Thomas. He takes your hand, writing out his question, "A-R-E U O-K?"

You stare at your hands for a moment, letting his question roll around in your head for a moment before nodding, "Just tired..."

He nods as well, letting your hand go.

It feels cold for a moment, and you almost miss the heat of his hand against yours.

The rest of the afternoon goes on rather slowly, with not much to do, you're left to distract yourself.

Luda Mae shows you where the washer and dryer are, helping you get a load done so you can finally take a shower and feel clean.

It's a dream, clean clothes on clean skin, finally given the chance to run a brush through your hair, fighting against the tangles that have made their home there over the past several weeks.

You almost don't know where to start, staring back at yourself in the dingy mirror of the downstairs bathroom, wet hair clinging to your skin as you face the daunting task ahead of you.

You try your best to brush through the mess on your own, brush pulling at the knots harshly, leaving your arms tired and wrists hurting as you barely brush a few of them out.

"You alright in there?" A sudden knock makes you jump, grip tightening on the old hairbrush.

"Y-yea," You sigh, opening the door for Luda Mae, "Just havin' some trouble with my hair..."

She looks you over through thick glasses before sighing herself, "Well, come on then."

That's all the warning you get before she's walking down the hall and back towards the front of the house.

"Huh?" You blink in confusion, quickly following behind.

"Sit." She takes a seat on the couch, pointing to the floor in front of her, "Come on, now, I ain't got all day, supper's gotta be made."

It takes you a few seconds to realize what's happening, but none the less you do as you're told.

Luda Mae takes the brush from your hands as you cross your legs, leaning against the front of the couch and giving her access to your hair. Thomas isn't in the living room anymore, but the one sided conversation you can hear Monty having on the front porch gives you an idea of where he may be.

Luda Mae's hands are gentle as she works, slowly but surely brushing through each knot with much more ease than you had yourself. It's obvious she's done this before.

You close your eyes, letting them rest as she combs through your hair, humming a quiet song.

"...It's been a long time since I've brushed anyone's hair," She speaks up, "Thomas won't let me do it no more."

"You used to brush his hair?"

"Mhm. Every mornin', since he was just a little baby. Then Hoyt and Monty started teasin' him for it and now he does it himself..." Her voice is sad as she explains, carefully working through a particularly difficult knot.

"...You're a good mother." You're solemn as you lean your head forward, giving her better access to the back of your head, "He's lucky to have you."

You hear her hum in response, unable to see the small smile gracing her face,

"...There we go." She finally states after a few minutes, pulling the brush away from your hair, "All done."

You sigh in relief, running a hand over your hair just to feel the difference, "Thank you, it feels so much better."

"You can thank me by helpin' with supper." She pats your shoulder, and you take that as your sign to stand, following her into the kitchen to help make dinner.

#first meeting #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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aesethewitch · 10 months

Text

Beef Stew Recipe - Potion of Fortitude

Whether it's been an exhausting week, a frigid winter's day, or just a stressful time, few things are more comforting than a hearty bowl of stew. I make this beef stew for myself whenever I need a true pick-me-up or when I'm preparing for an in-depth magical working. It provides lasting energy, warmth, and strength.

Plus, this recipe is scalable - make a ton and freeze it to enjoy for weeks or just make a little bit for one meal. The measurements below are approximate; measure with your heart.

Ingredients:

Chuck roast, cut to half-inch cubes (you can get pre-chunked stew meat, which is what I typically get)

Flour, enough to coat the beef

Salt and Pepper (about 1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp pepper), for seasoning the beef coating

2 tablespoons Unsalted Butter

1 Onion, diced

2 Large Potatoes, peeled and cut into half-inch to one-inch cubes

2 Carrots, peeled and cut into rounds

5-6 Cloves of Garlic, finely diced

4 cups Beef Broth

Herbs of your choice, such as: Sage, Thyme, Marjoram, Celery Seed, Bay, Chili Flakes

Additional veggies of your choice, such as: Parsnips, Turnips, Bok Choy

Salt and Pepper to taste

Instructions:

Mix together your flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl. Toss the beef chunks in the mixture to coat. This will create a nice brown crispiness on the outside.

In your stew pot, sauté your flour-coated beef until browned on all sides. Remove from the pot and set aside.

Add more oil to your pot and cook your onion until translucent. If you don't mind soft carrots in your stew, add them now and cook until just starting to soften and brown. (Note: I often leave the carrots until after the potatoes are nearly cooked through because I don't like the texture of fully-cooked carrots.)

Once your onions are translucent and your carrots have started to soften/brown, toss in your butter and scrape the bottom of the pot. You want to get all those beautiful, delicious brown bits back into the mixture. You can add a little water if you need help loosening the bits.

Add your garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Put your beef back into the pot (along with any drippings from the plate/bowl you placed it in). Pour your broth over everything and give it all a good stir.

Toss your potatoes into the pot. Bring it all to a boil and reduce your heat to let it simmer.

Add your herbs and spices. I recommend salt, pepper, sage, thyme, celery seed (or salt), and bay. If you like it spicy, you can throw in a bit of chili powder or flakes.

Simmer for at least one hour or until your potatoes are soft and your beef becomes tender, stirring occasionally.

If your stew isn't thick enough by the time your potatoes are done, you can make a cornstarch slurry by combining one tablespoon of cornstarch with two tablespoons of water. Pour the slurry into the stew and let it cook until thickened to your desired consistency.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with crusty bread, veggie side dishes, or whatever else you like.

Optional magic you can include:

As mentioned above, I often use this recipe to bolster or replenish my energy before or after an intense magical working. It also works for physical exertions - I made this for a group of my partner's friends while they were moving heavy furniture to a new apartment, and it gave them all the energy to move everything in one night!

This stew has an intense comforting effect. If someone I know has been working hard, stressing out, or hasn't been feeding themselves properly, I'll make this for them to help them remember to take care of themselves. It's rejuvenating, hearty, and full of love.

Depending on the herbs you choose to include, this could also be a powerful protection spell. Especially in the cold months, I use this as a protective ward against the cold exhaustion that pulls at the body and mind.

Pop a bit of chili in this spell to both speed up its effects and cast out negativity! Nothing clears the sinuses like a nose full of spice, and nothing clears the body of bad vibes like a good dose of chili flake.

Like many of my spell recipes, this one is most effective when it's shared. Give a bowl to your friends, your family, your neighbors, whoever. It makes a wonderful offering to house spirits or ancestors.

If you make this recipe, please let me know your thoughts! And if you enjoy this or my other posts, please consider dropping a couple dollars in my Ko-Fi tip jar!

Happy cooking, witches! 🍲

#recipes #food #spells #kitchen witch #hearth witch #witchblr #witchcraft #witch #home witchcraft #healing food #soup #stew #beef stew #food spells #my spells #my recipes #aese speaks

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themultifandomgal · 1 year

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Shelby Sister- Grace

This was requested on Wattpad

Being a Shelby has its perks. People move out of the way in the streets, I get things for free. However, I don't get to date, I'm whispered about, but I couldn't care less. Tommy and I are the closest out of all our siblings, but I guess being twins will do that. We do everything together, always have. That was until 'she' came along. Grace. They had a one night stand and now they're married. There's something about her that I do not like. It's like she's getting in between me and my brother. Tonight Tommy is holding a banquet. I have such a bad feeling, maybe it's because Grace will be there.

I finish getting ready and Isaiah escorts me to the hall where said banquet is being held at

"Glass of champagne Miss Shelby"

"Thank you" I take a glass from the tray and walk towards my brother and his new wife

"Tommy" I greet kissing his cheek

"YN"

"Grace" I cross my arms as Tommy rolls his eyes

"Come on its been 2 years. YN, Grace is my wife"

"That doesn't mean I trust her. Tom are you forgetting that this woman betrayed your trust, broke your heart and then suddenly after a one night stand found out she was pregnant. Convenient don't you think?"

"YN that's enough"

"I said I was sorry for what I did"

"Whatever. I'm going to get drunk, dance with a few guys and then go to bed" Tommy clear his throat "on my own of course. But Tom one day I would like to get married, just so you know"

"And I will find you a decent man when your ready" I'm the one now that rolls their eyes. Before I can turn I hear a gun shot ring

"YN? YN please tell me your ok" Tommy is quick to my side

"Yeah I'm fine" I turn around and see blood coming from Grace

"Shit. Grace" Tom is quick to catch her before she hits the ground. He applies pressure on her wound, I place my fingers on her neck buts she's gone.

That was a year ago. Tommy misses Grace dearly, he has her hung up in his study. I'm the one who now looks after Charlie, their son

"Auntie YN?"

"Hmm?" I turn around to see my nephew holding his stuffed bear

"When will daddy play with me?"

"He's a busy man I'm afraid, but I can play if you want?"

"No. It's ok. I just wanted daddy" the little man walks off upset for the 5th time this week and it's on Tuesday. Getting fed up with his behaviour, I make my way to his office, not bothering in knock I just walk in

"What?" I place my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrow

"Don't 'what?' me"

"YN I'm busy I haven't got time for this"

"Your busy? when are you not busy? Tommy you have a son"

"I do know"

"Do you?" I throw my hands in the air "because it looks like I have a child and you don't"

"What are you on about YN? I told you I was busy"

"To busy to spend time with your son?"

"Unfortunately yes" he sighs

"Tom I am taking care of your child. I'm not his mum"

"Don't you think I know that!" he shouts banging his hands on his desk "his mum died in my arms, because of who I am. Someone. Shot her"

"Tommy I was there. I was the one who dragged you away. I might not have been her favourite person and vis versa, but I felt your pain. You lost your wife that day but Charlie lost his mum and dad. The thing is though he didn't have to lose his dad. So you can either hide away in here or come and have lunch with your son. Your choice" and with that I leave the his office.

I place some soup and bread in front of Charlie

"Is dad having soup with us?" before I can respond Tommy walks into the room

"He is, if that's ok with you?"

"Dad! Come sit here!" Charlie pats the place next to him. Tommy pulls out the chair and sits down

"Soup?"

"No..." I give him a look "sure"

"Me and auntie YN made it with potatoes and carrots and onion" Charlie then gasps "maybe you could make it with us next time"

"Maybe I can" I place the soup in front of Tommy and give him a smile

"I'd like that. I think auntie YN would like that as well. I think she misses you"

"I've miss you guys as well" Tommy ruffles Charlie's hair.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #arthur shelby #peaky blinders sister

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wormstacheangel · 7 months

Text

it's still nov 5 where I am so enjoy this long ramble fix it <3

It started with finding a flower growing by Baby’s tire. He plucked it and placed it on the dashboard as he drove away. Later the flower found itself sitting on Dean’s desk. Seeing the small yellow daisy grow in the cracks of old concrete reminded him of a certain someone. It made him smile.

So when he saw someone selling flowers on the side of the road he bought a bouquet of them. He then started to keep a 20$ bill on him at all times just in case he saw the opportunity to buy one or two.

The grocery store owner was throwing away some chipped planters and Dean offered to take them, giving the man the 20$ bill he was saving and buying some random flower seeds. That night he stayed up late looking up how to grow a flower.

Sam bought him a cactus—it had a little flower growing on top—and Dean added it to his growing collection on his desk. He now had some on his nightstand and over his bed too. Eileen mentioned how bright the place looked. She didn’t mention that Dean was starting to look better too.

Some plants didn’t make it, a lot of them needed sun and not just those bright lights Dean had to buy. He didn’t find it fair that he trapped all these beautiful things underground. Suffocating them. Ruining them. Killing them. He got a shovel and bought some fresh dirt. A rooftop garden shouldn’t be that hard.

Dean added umbrellas, beach chairs, and a cooler to his oasis. He had a small speaker playing an audiobook while his fingers were covered in dirt. Pulling weeds and encouraging his sunflowers to grow. He was alone and yet he felt surrounded by their presence. In everything beautiful, there was a little sign of his best friend.

Dean always imagined Cas like a natural disaster wanting to be a simple breeze. He didn’t want to break anything. He only wanted to exist in a world where he could watch everything grow. Wanting to help wherever he could. He wanted to be good. He desperately wanted to be good. Dean planted irises.

Onions, potatoes, and carrots are the next to grow. Jack enjoyed digging them out. He couldn’t wait to see how big his pumpkins would grow. Dean missed the beautiful colors of the flowers but his room still looked bright.

The sun was high up in the sky but Dean didn’t mind. He was singing his favorite song, had a cooling rag around his neck, and a big sun hat on his head. His rooftop garden has grown. There now was a tent shading the flowers that needed it and a little plastic kiddie pool for his feet to rest when he needed it. Right now he was content, seeing his garden so beautiful and full. In that moment he felt whole.

Sam and Dean lay on the beach chairs staring up at the stars. It reminded them of a time when it was just them. They had no home just a job to do. Just chess pieces in a game they had no choice but to play along with. Now they had a choice. Dean decided he wouldn’t soak his hands in blood anymore. Sam supported him. They’ll look for a place in the morning. Right now they’ll enjoy the sky.

Starting over alone didn’t feel right. The new house was a big fixer-upper but it felt like a place he could grow old in. Dean bought a bouquet of flowers to place in the middle of the kitchen table. Someday it will feel like home and he’ll be happy here.

He set a small table outside. He didn’t know how much he missed constantly being able to see the sky. His routine always involved being able to watch it turn color over the lake. He sat drinking his coffee and eating his omelet. He didn’t listen to the news but instead, he filled the air with his favorite cartoons. He was starting to feel like himself.

Starting a garden was easier when he didn’t have to climb so far up. He tried growing everything he could. Filling his land with edible plants and beautiful flowers. He made a path with some old bricks. He built a garden door. He added a wooden bench. There’s a bird feeder that Eileen gifted him hanging on the tree branch and underneath was a bird bath. Jack gifted him a little garden gnome and Sam brought a rainbow doormat. Dean rolled his eyes but he placed it at his front door.

It was snowing but it wasn’t sticking to the ground. Dean was in the kitchen cutting tomatoes for soup. He had plans to make the best-grilled cheese and watch Christmas movies. Next weekend everyone will show up to celebrate some sort of Christmas. Dean even had a tree in the corner, decorated with lights only cause his new cat knocked everything off. He didn’t mind.

Three years passed in a blink of an eye and Dean could still feel the hot grip on his shoulder. It woke him up time and time again, and just like every other time, he got dressed to take a walk. He hated to bother his little munchkin but she was asleep on her side of the bed. Small and curled up on her little blanket. He zipped up his jacket and gave her a little kiss. A promise to come back. He walked down the side of the lake, hands deep in his pockets, the snow was gone but some patches remained here and there. He hasn’t felt so alone in a while. Maybe it was all his guests leaving that brought this on but he couldn’t help but feel someone was missing the whole time. He’s always missing.

Another new year and Dean was in his garden preparing the dirt for the new harvest. His flower garden usually took priority but there’s not much he could do about that during this cold weather. His plants inside were thriving though. He was so into the audiobook that Dean didn’t hear the footsteps. He was on his knees pulling weeds and listening to the main character decide if love was worth the career she worked so hard for. She just shouted his name when he heard his own name being called. Dean jumped, ready to throw the small weeding hoe in his hand but instead, he froze.

“Hello, Dean.” He smiled. He had longer hair and a full beard coming in but it was him. “Um, Sam told me this is where you live now.”

Dean stood up. He felt cold, his legs shaking but he kept his stare on his visitor.

“It’s beautiful. Your home.”

Dean swallowed the lump as he whispered, “Thanks.” He started at him for a bit longer before taking a step forward. “Cas?”

Cas nodded, and his eyes started to water. “I’m back. I’m back, Dean.”

Dean didn’t hear anymore. He ran to him. Wrapping the angel in his arms and savoring every second of it. He felt the long brown hair between his fingers and the smell of rain still lingered on Cas’s skin.

It was him. Dean took a deep breath. It hurt his chest and he wondered how many years was he holding that in.

Dean took Cas’s face between his hands and felt himself fall in love all over again. How did he ever think he could live without him? Cas was everywhere in his house but it was never going to be enough.

“Welcome home, Cas.” He breathed out in relief and Cas chuckled, his hands on Dean’s waist.

“I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.”

Dean smiled, his eyes remembering every second of this moment. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” He leaned in and the next thing he knew they were kissing.

Finally kissing. Finally together.

Dean could taste both their tears as they kissed but they were unwilling to let go of each other. From this moment on they will never be apart.

“I love you.” Dean breathes into Cas’s lips. Kissing slowly and lazily. “I loved you for so long.”

“Me too.” Cas kisses Dean’s nose. Kisses Dean’s cheeks. Kisses Dean’s eyelids and then his lips. “My heart has always been yours.”

Dean knew that from now on, together they would grow and it would be beautiful.

Time has passed and the sun was high in the sky. They both worked outside, listening to a book about dragons and magic because it was Cas's turn to pick, and they created shade for their flowers. A little green house was next on their list but building the second floor was taking a lot of their time. Still they both enjoyed the outdoors. Dean made lunch for them and they sat outside on Dean's little table for two. They talked about the future with no fear, only excitement. And they held hands across the table, laughing about something stupid and creating memories they never thought were possible. Munchkin sat at their feet enjoying the sun just as much as them. The family will come over for dinner soon so they know they'll have to head inside but right now they're in their own bubble. Content and happy. Surrounded by growing love.

#wormstachewrites #destiel #fic #dean likes to garden now

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mysteryshoptls · 8 months

Text

SR Epel Felmier - Apprentice Chef Vignette

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Epel Version ～ Let’s Make Stew 1～

Ghost Chef: ―The dish we'll have you make today is a stew.

Epel: A stew… Whew, I'm glad it's not some fancy-sounding dish I'd never heard of before.

Epel: I've made a ton of stews and other dishes like it back home, so I think I might be able to do this!

Ghost Chef: Alright, then let's get started. First, let's cut up the ingredients.

Ghost Chef: Make sure to cut each one up evenly into bite-sized pieces. First let's tackle the potatoes.

Epel: Got it! They've already been well washed, so I'll leave the skin on.

[chop, chop, chop, chop…]

Ghost Chef: Oho, not bad. Only, these are a little too large to be considered bite-sized…

Epel: Eh!? Oh, now that you mention it, I guess the stuff in the stew we eat here in the cafeteria is a bit smaller…

Epel: We usually have super chunky fillings in the stew back home, so I just chopped it up thinking of that.

Ghost Chef: I see. Well, if we cut them in half once more, they'll be a little too small… Let's just cut the other ingredients so they match the potatoes then.

Epel: Got it. Okay, I'm gonna cut up all the rest of the potatoes.

Epel: I've finished chopping up the onions and potatoes.

Ghost Chef: Good, the onions are cut perfectly into wedges. And you've even rounded the edges of the potatoes. Well done.

Epel: Mah gran… My grandmother taught me while I was helping her prep food back home.

Ghost Chef: Your grandma really knows her stuff. Did she also teach you how to handle a knife?

Epel: Ah, well, I can use a knife probably 'cause I've practiced carving a ton, I guess?

Epel: We're a family of apple farmers back in Harveston, and there's always a ton of damaged apples in our bushels…

Epel: But if I could carve some patterns or pictures into the apples while taking out the damaged parts, they become worth something again. That's why I've worked hard to learn how to do it.

Ghost Chef: You mean you sell them? That's amazing, I'd love it if you'd show me what you can do.

Epel: Hehe, sure. If I was to choose out of these stew ingredients… These carrot slices would probably be the best choice.

[slice, slice…]

Epel: Here you go, I'm done!

Ghost Chef: Ooh, you've carved a beautiful flower design into the carrot! You really are quite skilled.

Epel: Hehe, thank you. Want me to add decorations to the rest of the carrots too!?

Ghost Chef: Eh, no you don't have to… Wow, you were just raring to go, huh!

Ghost Chef: You're making me feel a little bad for throwing these beautifully carved carrots into the soup…!!

Epel: ―Stir flour in with the sauteed ingredients… Okay, this seems mixed enough, I think?

Ghost Chef: I think so too. Next, we'll add milk, water, and consommé, and let is simmer. You'll want to stir from time to time so the flour doesn't burn.

Epel: Got it!

Ghost Chef: While it's simmering, let's go over everything we've done so far. Do you have any questions?

Epel: Yes, sir! Please tell me of any foods that'll help me grow taller or more muscular!

Ghost Chef: Eh? There's nothing that screams "eat me and grow" like that. After all, the most important thing to think about is nutritional balance.

Epel: Really!? And I took this class hoping that I'd get to learn about ingredients that'd help me get bigger…

Ghost Chef: Epel-kun, you said your motivation for taking this course was to learn how to control your nutritional intake to help shape your body, right?

Epel: Yes. I want to grow taller, and gain more muscle than I have now!

Epel: Everyone back in my village said that if I ate a lot, exercised a lot, and slept a lot, I'd grow big and strong…

Epel: And still, I never got any good results. That's why recently, I've been trying to eat even more than usual…

Epel: But my Housewarden scolded me something fierce, saying that my nutritional intake was completely off.

Epel: He also said, "figure out what you yourself need and choose the right food to eat," too...

Ghost Chef: Ah, so that's what this is about. I understand. I'll make sure to go over the perfect ingredients and nutrients that you need, Epel-kun.

Epel: Please and thank you! Ah, but wait one moment, I need to get out a notepad!!

Ghost Chef: ―And there you have it. Do you see now that the stew we're making now also has a ton of nutrients that's good for you?

Epel: Yes, thank you!

Epel: There were so many new words bein' thrown my way that my brain's overloaded… This whole nutrition thing is a lot harder than I thought…

Ghost Chef: Alright, here we go, Epel-kun, let's do the finishing touches. Put the chicken and broccoli into the pot and let it simmer for an additional 5 minutes!

Epel: Got it! I'll throw in the pre-cooked chicken and broccoli and… There we go.

Epel: Oh yeah, by the way, we're making a savory stew today, but… does the cafeteria menu ever have sweet stews?

Ghost Chef: Sweet stews?

Epel: Yeah, it's got stuff like apples and nuts in it… It might feel a little like it should be a dessert, but it's not too sweet, and it's got a great flavor.

Epel: You can eat it hot or cold, so whenever I got sick, mah gran… my grandmother would make it for me―

Epel: Or…? Maybe it's not really a thing…? Maybe gran just came up with it…

Ghost Chef: A dessert-like stew, hm. I feel like I may have come across in some small village before… I'll look it up later.

Ghost Chef: It may be interesting if we were to serve it as promo dish in the cafeteria. I'm sure it would be delicious if we used the apples from Harveston.

Epel: Hehe, and 'cause the apples from Harveston are super delicious, it'll quickly become a popular dish, no doubt.

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Epel Version ～ Let’s Make Stew 2～

Epel: That smells good… I think this stew came out amazing!

Ghost Chef: I agree. You did a good job cutting the vegetables and stirring the pot. All those times you helped out back home really came in handy.

Ghost Chef: Now, plate the stew and let's head out to the judging venue.

Epel: YES, SIR! ALRIGHT! AH'M GONNA WINNIT!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Riddle: A pleasant aroma is wafting out from the kitchen… It seems my food will be served soon.

Epel: Sorry to keep you waiting. This stew must have been what you ordered, Riddle-san.

Riddle: Why, hello there, Epel. You must be taking the elective this time around.

Riddle: I am still in the midst of my own studies when it comes to cooking… But as I was selected a judge for this, I shall make sure to give you my sincerest assessment.

Epel: Urgh, feels like you'd be super strict, too… Please take it easy on me…

Epel: Once more, I present to you the stew you've ordered.

Epel: It's still hot, so take care not to burn your tongue.

Riddle: On closer inspection, I see that there is a design carved into the carrots. How wonderfully intricate.

Epel: Hehe, thank you! I'm actually pretty good at carving, so.

Riddle: As for the ingredients in the stew… These seem to be a little larger than the ones normally served in the cafeteria.

Epel: Hehe, don't you think that makes it worth eating?

Riddle: Perhaps, but they do seem a little too big… These are bigger than my spoon.

Epel: Yep. I bet it'll really fill you up!

Riddle: R-Right, okay. I shall dig in, then.

[bite, chew, chew…]

Epel: …

Riddle: …Mm, delicious. I was a tad worried, since the vegetables were cut a little large, but they've been perfectly cooked through.

Epel: Thank you very much! And this stew isn't just tasty, it's also chocked full of nutrition.

Riddle: Chocked full of nutrition…? Could you elaborate further?

Epel: Sure! Uhh… One second.

Epel: Carrots are rich in Vitamin A, while potatoes are rich in Vitamin C.

Epel: The broccoli has a ton of fiber. The onion has an anti, uh… antioxidative effect? Yeah.

Epel: Chicken has a ton of protein. And the milk used for the stew has a ton of calcium!

Epel: There's a lot of other nutrients that are good for the growing body…

Epel: Uhh, so basically… Stews are the perfect dish to help you grow!

Riddle: I was a little startled because you suddenly brought out a notepad, but… Did you write down all the nutrients of all the ingredients you used for this dish there?

Epel: Yep! I can't remember things just from hearing it once, so I took notes as the Chef taught me while we were cooking.

Epel: I wanted to figure out what kind of nutrition I need for my own growth, which is why I took this course.

Epel: I was writing everything down real fast, so there's some parts I can't read, but…

Riddle: …There's no point to taking notes if you cannot read them back later.

Epel: Urgh… Yes, you're right. I'll make sure to check with the Chef again later…

Riddle: That being said, I think it's spectacular that you are attempting to further your own knowledge in order to reach your goals.

Riddle: Just as you say, it isn't only about the appearance or taste, but also the nutrients that go into it. I shall also take this moment to learn something.

Ghost Chef: We always make our dishes while thinking of that nutritional balance, so it's lovely to see Epel-kun this invested.

Epel: I-It's a little embarrassing to hear you say that, but… Thank you for your kind words!

Epel: It's much more fun to learn about nutrition through cooking rather than reading through a musty book…

Epel: I'm gonna keep on learning about nutrition and get me a super muscular body!!

Ghost Chef: I don't think you'll be able to get muscular on your diet alone, but… I'm glad to see you so motivated.

Epel: Alllright, I'm gonna work even harder! Chef, I'm looking forward to some more of your instruction!

Requested by @dida-books.

#twisted wonderland #twst #epel felmier #riddle rosehearts #twst epel #twst riddle #twst translation #twst masterchef #mention: vil

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rapha-reads · 7 months

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So I was on the phone with my sisters and my father and I started getting out vegetables and meat to cook dinner and my Baba said "you're not going to make a tajine now?" (it was around 10.30pm). And I said "it's alright, it's not gonna take too long, I'm just throwing everything into the pan and letting it cook". And my Baba went full offended gasping "oh hell no, if you're going to make a tajine you're going to make it right and that takes at least 45 minutes!". So I said "uuuh, tell me again how it's made, because I think I'm missing something?..."

Turns out I've been making my tajines wrong all along, but now I know how to make them right, so I'll share with you.

Moroccan tajine (for 1 person) :

- onion and garlic to taste

- meat to taste (preferably lamb)

- 2 carrots

- 1 courgette (or half if it's a big one)

- 2 potatoes

- spices

To start:

Cut the onion in thin slices and the garlic roughly. Put them in the saucepan with a bit of water, just enough to cover them but not drown them.

Let them simmer for around 15 minutes, until the onion is melted.

In the meantime get the rest of your vegetables ready.

Once you deem the onion sufficiently translucid, add your meat (sorry, I don't know the timing for vegetarian equivalent meat).

At this point, add your spices. I personally put the classics, salt, pepper and cumin (cumin is very important), and then I add paprika, ginger and rosemary.

Let the meat cook for another 15 minutes or so and add the carrots. Carrots take a long time to cook so you add them before the rest.

Wait for another 20-25 minutes, cooking on slow burn and checking regularly the water. You don't want your sauce to evaporate. The water you add if necessary must be heated.

You can add the rest of your vegetables after 20 minutes, when the carrots are already starting to cook well.

And now you let it all cook gently and slowly until the vegetables are ready. Don't eat immediately, it's very hot! A traditional Moroccan tajine is usually cooked in a clay dish like this, so it's dangerously hot.

And that's it! Quite simple in the end, but it does take a hot minute.

#recipes #moroccan food #morocco #tajine #tajine marocain #recette #food #maroc #rapha talks #cooking

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lets-all-calm-down-a-bit · 24 days

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Do you have any food preference HCs? Like I think Craig would be a very picky eater, wouldn't like much seasoning, etc. Kraft mac n' cheese, chicken nuggets, and pb&j sandwiches are his best friend. Was curious if you have any ideas like that about him or the other characters bc I've been loving reading your HCs so far :)

hmm,,, i have a coffee preference post here regarding stan and kyle, but here are some other hcs i have (:

Kenny:

he has a very diverse pallet. he likes just about any food you give him unless its like, boiled unseasoned potatoes, but he'll still eat it. not particularly picky, but he does have preference for spicier foods or anything with loud and/or complex flavor profiles. he loves flavor bombs!

Cartman:

sweets and savory all the way. hes a southern comfort food enjoyer and a fructose fiend. everything from fried chicken, shepards pie, and ham to ice cream, and blackberry cobbler is on his wishlist. hes mildly picky in that hes not a fan of middle eastern or mediterranean food or things that are "out of his comfort zone." but he's still a big spice eater and loves mexican food in particular.

Kyle:

he was raised to not be picky because it's considered rude, but he's pretty picky in nature so he just learned to get around it. has some sensory issues regarding some cooking styles of vegetables and texture stuff. cant do cooked celery or onion because of the texture unless its finely minced, pureed, or powdered. not a fan of fish because he ate so much of it growing up, and because his mom would make these salmon patties that had would have bones in them so now any time he eats salmon or any fish he feels the need to vomit. (these are real btw. my family and many others made them. they had bones that you were supposed to just eat because they were crunchy enough to do so. nightmarish food istg.)

he also goes kosher in middle school when he connects more with his faith so... no more denny's bacon specials lmao.

Stan:

definitely more picky then the other four when it comes to flavor. doesn't like spicy foods and hates the texture of onions so he has to use minced, pureed, or powdered in recipes. he has the cilantro gene which makes visits to kyle's family for dinner pretty embarrassing. he doesn't like to make a big deal about it but he HAS to tell ms broflovski because if something even has a whiff of cilantro the entire meal tastes like soap and stink bug chemicals. sheila is very understanding of this and doesn't mind too much because the flavor of cilantro can be easily replicated with other herbs/spices. also has a huge vendetta against celery. it does NOT just "taste green" kyle, it's WEIRD and SHARP and the cooked texture is GROSS! hates steamed broccoli but tries to get over that in high school by eating it in frozen meals to get accustomed to it. not a big fan of things that are too sweet. sweets are best when they're just sweet enough to be yummy but not overpowering or super rich. the only "rich" sweet he likes is chocolate torte, and ONLY with black coffee to balance it out and it HAS to be in small alternating bites: like bite of torte, sip of coffee, bite of torte, sip of coffee, and so on.

Craig:

very restricted diet that sticks mostly to bland safe foods. every day for lunch he eats one of those uncrustable pb&js or honey and peanut butter. surprisingly a lot of his safe foods are vegetables of some sort because he ate them a lot as a little kid so hes accustomed to them and they feel "fresher" than other foods that can be overstimulating. they cant be cooked though, only raw. so he loves those veggie platters. broccoli is crossing the line a bit for him though because of the odd texture, so that's iffy for him. carrot sticks, celery, and ice berg lettuce are great though. some other non-veggie safe foods are white meat chicken or turkey, and instant mashed potatoes. he cant do normal mashed potatoes because they taste almost... smotheringly starchy?? the same with baked potatoes. but instant Idahoan brand instant mashed potatoes are lighter and smoother with a different taste. he can do cooked green beans as long as they still taste green and weren't cooked in a broth/grease of any sort, but he cant do peas because they're too mushy and weird.

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jungle-angel · 15 days

Text

Lessons In Sunday Dinner (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: It's a warm spring night and one of your close family friends has invited you and Calvin for dinner where you learn that some family roots run deep

Warnings: Family history, mentions of birth and parenthood etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @ateliefloresdaprimavera

Notes: I got the idea for this from one of my favorite children's books, "Chicken Sunday" by Patricia Pollaco. I found it in a bookshop a few weeks ago and this little idea had popped into my head.

You and Calvin couldn't have been more excited at Henny's dinner invitation. Cal's mother and father would have come, however Six-Thirty and Rosie were needed at home, the puppies still new to the world and needing constant attention from their parents.

You and Calvin headed up the steps of the old red-brick Victorian that belonged to Henny and Paul King, her climbing roses and the bougainvillea in full bloom and alive with the constant buzzing of bumblebees.

You rang the doorbell and were met with the sound of barking from Curly, her little black Scottish terrier. "Curly get it on outta here!" Henny ordered loudly. "Go chase the rats outta the garbage cans or somethin."

Curly shuffled aside and zoomed up the stairs. "Well, well look who decided to show on up!" she laughed as she opened the storm door.

"Hi Henny," you both greeted, hugging her warmly.

"Come on in," she said. "We've got alot of work to do before dinnertime. Cal, if ya'll want, you can put Ellen in the living room with Betsy and Ruby. Paul should be back in a little while."

Ellen was put in the playpen with Henny's granddaughters so they could play together. As soon as Paul was home, he and Calvin retreated to their secret little hideaway to work on some sort of afternoon project, leaving you and Henny to handle Sunday dinner prep.

"So what's on the menu Henny?" you asked.

"Just a little family tradition honey," she answered. "A little something my Grandmama used to call 'Chicken Sunday.'"

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh," said Henny. "That was her thing, she'd never miss a church service nor did she miss Sunday dinner. And if we dared to even miss one Sunday dinner with the family, she'd threaten to beat us blue."

You made a face at the image that had suddenly popped into your head. "Sounds like she was real strict."

"Oh she was," Henny explained. "Only because she knew what it was like to have been in a family that was split up. All she ever wanted in life was for us all to stick together. Didn't always happen, but we tried our best."

"I'm sorry Henny," you said, feeling a little sad.

"Oh don't be sorry honey, it ain't anybody's fault," Henny assured you. "It's just the way it was. Now, if ya'll don't mind helpin me a second, we need to head out back and gather some stuff outta the garden."

Excitement flared within you at the notion. Henny's garden was legendary and the envy of every neighborhood shrew who just didn't have the green thumb.

"Go on now honey child, it's best if you take your shoes off," Henny told you, leaving her own near the kitchen door. "That's what spring and summer were made for."

You laughed a little, leaving your shoes next to Henny's. The garden looked absolutely gorgeous, everything so green and having grown so tall. The wildflowers were everywhere with bees flitting from one to the other while the vegetables had grown tall and ripe with peppers, tomatoes, onions, beans, turnips, cabbages, lettuces, carrots, cucumbers and all sorts of herbs and spices. The strawberries were already beginning to grow ripe along with Henny's berry bushes but the hazelnuts still had a bit of a ways to go. The sunshine and the heat of early afternoon had made everything perfect, as perfect as a Sunday could be.

"So what are we gathering Henny?" you asked her.

"Well," Henny answered. "First we're gonna need some fresh garlic and the potatoes. Then we're gonna need broccoli and collards for the sides."

You and Henny set about, gathering whatever it was you needed from the garden. A warm breeze blew by, the windchimes gently clanging in the breeze while the birds sang and the smells of her garden wafted up your nose. You gathered as much of the broccoli and the collard greens as you could pick, the greens themselves already up to your knees.

"Aw honey that should be enough," Henny told you. "Don't let your basket get overfilled now."

Once everything had been gathered, you and Henny went right back into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

"Now this," she said, removing the chicken legs and thighs from the fridge. "Was Grandmama's secret. She'd let the meat brine overnight in buttermilk and then roll it in all the flour with the herbs and spices from her garden."

"Because when it soaks overnight, the brine is absorbed into the meat and chemical reactions occur that allow the flavors to lock in," you explained.

Henny smiled and shook her head with her hands on her hips. "That is your husband talking for sure," she laughed.

You laughed with her as you set to prepping the rest of the food. "So this was Grandmama's tradition huh?" you said, chopping up the garlic.

"Mmmhmm," Henny nodded. "She started it after she got her freedom. She opened up a little corner restaurant in Savannah and ran the place almost fifty years, right up through the Depression. She was real business savvy you know. She had a wealthy oilman come through her joint once and had said that if he could, he would've offered her a job, but Grandmama told him outright that if he did, nobody would be able to run the place and the food would be no good."

You laughed a little as Henny told you more stories about her grandmother and the little hole-in-the-wall place that her and her husband had run for almost fifty years. "Must've been a hell of a place."

"Oh it was honey," Henny said, chopping up the collards. "It was good cookin and good company. Everybody in the place looked forward to Chicken Sundays 'cause sometimes it was all they could afford."

"It was?"

"Uh-huh," Henny replied. "Times were tough in Georgia and there wasn't alot for anybody. Grandmama had to work with what she had and selling her chicken dinners and meals in general, were what paid the bills."

As soon as the chicken had been put in the hot pan of olive oil to fry, you let the potatoes boil and the collards cook away. Into the oven went the airy scratch rolls, all coated with flour and the whole kitchen smelling delicious.

When the dinner hour finally came, you, Calvin and Henny's family all gathered out on the porch, the warm, sunny weather too perfect to be trapped inside. The food was delicious as always with Paul having broken out a bottle of the house white for everyone to share.

"Henny, you and (y/n)really outdid yourselves," Calvin remarked. "Best dinner ever."

"Just you wait till next week," Henny told him. "We'll be doin spaghetti and meatballs if you're up for it."

You and Calvin met each other's gazes with that mischievous look in your eyes, not forgetting the last time you and him had been invited to a spaghetti dinner at Henny and Paul's.

#calvin evans #calvin evans x reader #lessons in chemistry

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gsirvitor · 28 days

Note

I like that most Canadian food is local, but how local?

Imagine a hypothetical(👀) Great Depression scenario where the logistics of driving produce to market gets priced out. Could Canada adapt?

In the US, a large portion of farms are a little southwest to dead center on the continent. The commute distance is so far that harvest happens before the produce is ripe so that it won't rot in the grocery store. If the trucks can't drive for whatever reason, a lot of people are going hungry.

Is Canadian food produced close enough to population centers to work out alternative means of supply? Maybe they could meet each other halfway?

When I say local, I mean local, less than one-twelfth of Canada's land is utilized for farming and crop production, southwestern Bristish Columbia and southern Ontario have the highest yield and widest range of crops, while farms can be found across basically every province.

The majority of wheat is grown on the Prairies, but you'll also find wheat fields in British Columbia, Ontario, Quebec, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia.

In 2018, Canada was the world's largest producer of rapeseed, dry pea and lentil, the 2nd largest producer of oats in the world, the 6th largest world producer of wheat and barley, the 7th largest world producer of soy, the 10th largest world producer of corn and the 12th largest world producer of potato.

In the same year, the country also produced 688 thousand tons of flax, 505 thousand tons of sugar beet, which is used to produce sugar, 497 thousand tons of tomato, 424 thousand tons of apple, 354 thousand tons of carrots, 341 thousand tons of beans, 311 thousand tons of chickpeas, 236 thousand tons of rye, 240 thousand tons of onion, 219 thousand tons of cabbage, 195 thousand tons of cranberry, 164 thousand tons of blueberry, 173 thousand tons of mustard seed, 138 thousand tons of mushroom and truffle, 120 thousand tons of grape, in addition to smaller productions of other agricultural products.

That's just numbers, your question pertains to how it would get around, well, if Canada were to lose our infrastructure to ship said crops and produce, we'd fair pretty well, I live in a city and it is surrounded by farmland, there are local markets, local butchers, local orchards, local, well, everything apart from the more exotic options.

Hell, I can go into the woods and find wild variants of local crops just growing, won't taste good, but they do in a pinch, then there is the fact only 5% of Canada has infrastructure, 95% is wilderness, really, the only industry that would take a hit would be dairy.

Oh, and yes, major cities like Toronto and Ottawa will be fucked, but I don't really care about Toronto or Ottawa, as they're basically the Canadian London and DC.

Like, look at the population density of Canada;

We all live along the border, now compare it to the farm map of Canada;

We'd be fine.

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apolloendymion · 9 months

Text

listen to me. i am talking directly in your ear now.

save your kitchen scraps. I'm talking carrot tops, peels, and greens. the tops & skins of onion and garlic. celery leaves. squash rinds. citrus peels. apple cores. tomatoes and lettuce that are just a little too wilted/mushy to be palatable. eggshells. cheese rinds. chicken skin. potato skins if you washed the dirt off. the water/oil from canned foods. BONES!! skins, peels, stems, leaves, anything that isn't poisonous but you wouldn't normally eat. we're going to make some fucking Broth.

(note: cruciferous veggies like brussels sprouts are ok in small quantities, but keep in mind that they're bitter and may bitter-ize your broth in larger amounts.)

put those scraps in a bag in the freezer. I'd recommend storing the liquids in a separate bag from the solids. add scraps whenever you've got em, until you've accrued about half a gallon ziplock of solids. now, you're Ready.

put a little oil at the bottom of a soup pot. just enough to sauté your solids. add some minced garlic and herbs/spices, if you have them (dried is fine, but i don't recommend powdered spices unless they're all you've got.) i like warming spices like star anise and cardamom pods; they make it taste like pho, sooo cozy. and of course, bay leaves!! if you have them, put at least 3 in there. minimum. trust me.

(if you don't have/want animal parts, add a little more oil than necessary for sauteing. you're gonna want the extra, believe me. I'd also sauté for longer, and pick an oil with a little flavor if you can, like olive. canola/vegetable is perfectly fine though.)

add the solids and sauté. i usually just thaw them in the oil, but if you're better at planning than me, you can put them in the fridge the night before. ideally you should sauté until the veggies start to brown. I'm not always that patient. it's fine. just make sure everything fully thaws and separates from one another. get a thin coat of oil over everything.

next, add the liquid ingredients and fill the rest of the pot with water (taking care to leave some space in case it boils over.) bring the pot to a boil, then turn it as low as your stove allows and leave it to simmer for as long as possible. this is KEY. let that shit MARINATE. let it STEW, no pun intended. i usually try to start this project in the morning, so i can leave it for the rest of the day. i have left it on overnight before but i can't recommend that in good conscience. do not burn your house down for broth. 2 hours would probably be my absolute minimum. stay close by, and stir it every so often so it doesn't boil over. chill on the couch. watch tv. enjoy the smell that permeates your house and makes it feel like a home. it's cozy time.

add salt, tasting as you go. you don't want to overdo it. some folks say to add the salt at the sauteing stage, but i feel this gives me too little control over the final product. i need control. I've got anxiety. but you do you. live your life. I'm not your boss.

once it tastes how you want it, strain out the solids. if I'm going to make soup right away, then I'll strain the liquid directly into another pot, throw in the soup ingredients, and simmer till everything's soft. otherwise, put it in a container you can freeze for later.

rejoice. broth be upon ye.

sip it when you're sick, make it into soup, use it in a casserole, cook rice with it. give a jar to your neighbors. you are the broth god. you are unstoppable. you will never waste a vegetable piece ever again.

go forth and Experience The Broth.

#idk what to tag this as #recipes #??

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