angel food cakes

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.

aceofalmonds  asked:

Hello! I read (and enjoyed!) the story you posted of your grandpa and his tree disposal methods, and so was looking for the story you mentioned of your other grandpa menacing a peach tree with a baseball bat, but can't seem to find it. Halp?

That would be because I haven’t posted it yet!  Many people have requested the story mentioned in the tags “Grandpa Menaces a Peach Tree With A Baseball Bat”, So here it is, with a side of “Grandpa Menaces The Iowa Relatives With Giant Corn”

**

For the Full Context of this tale, you have to understand how my dad’s side of the family got to America in the first place.  Prior to 1917, they were all farmers of limited success that migrated from county to county, trying not to starve, until a covey of the Fitzpatricks heard that they could be shoveling shit in Grand Americay, far away from the people they owed money to, so they all fucked off to Iowa and somehow made a fortune in the real-estate business in the middle of the depression.  Despite now being comfortably middle-class, they never actually gave up farming, and having a pair of glowing green thumbs was a point of pride in the family.

So, when Grandpa moved out to California, specifically to the Salinas Valley, which is where an absurd percentage of the country’s food is grown because it’s full of probably the world’s most stupidly good soil,  Grandpa had to continue the tradition and set up a garden in the backyard, planted various crops and flowers in January because fuck you this is coastal California, I can start stuff in the middle of winter, and invited his sister Leone and her growing brood of (at the time, 5, later 9 children) out to visit.

They came out in July, to escape the Midwest humidity and Butter fetish for a time, when the corn is typically getting to be around knee-height if things are going well.  Grandpa spent a long time asking how things were back on the farm, plying them with ice tea and grandma’s lethal Angel Food cake, before politely inviting Leone and her Husband Scotty out back to see how his patch was doing, oh its not much really, just a bit of fun for me and the children-

Scotty and Leone stared at the nine-foot-tall goddamn corn which was already setting fruit because it had been going since January.  At the watermelon plant that had taken over the side-yard, and at the other oversize and thriving crops that had taken over grandpa’s yard.  There was a few moments of awed silence.

“Well fuck you Edwin.” Scotty eventually said, before Leone whopped him over the head and the rest of the visit was a pleasant diversion.

the following spring though, Grandpa received a package from Iowa, specifically a small peach tree with a note saying “With Love, Scotty.”

Leone knew better than to engage in such shenanigans, because this is irish-agrarian passive-aggressive Bullshittery at its absolute finest.  “Sure, yeah, you can do corn.  Any asshole can do corn.  TRY THIS FUSSY-ASS PEACH VARIETAL INSTEAD, YOU ASS”  is perhaps a more accurate translation.

Grandpa, not about to be intimidated by a mere tree, planted that sucker in the front yard and proceeded to pamper it- bone meal fertilizer, a brand-new irrigation system, the works.  Hell, he would go out some times and talk to the darn thing.  It flowered, and he borrowed a behive from one of the local farmers to make DARN SURE that it got pollinated, because he was going to mail peaches to Scotty for Christmas, that asshole.

The tree. Did not. fruit.

That fall, grandpa reccived a letter from Scotty, asking after a couple paragraphs of circumlocutions, how that tree he sent was doing?

Grandpa got up, made himself a martini, picked up Dad’s baseball bat, and walked out to the front yard to have a discussion with the Peach tree.  

“I’ve just received a letter.”  he explained, waving the paper at the tree. “Asking when you’re going to fruit.  Now, I think I’ve held up my responsibilities to you as your caretaker, so it’s time for you to start providing.  Do you understand?  This spring, you better start fruiting or I will personally take this bat to you and turn you to into kindling.”

He stepped close to the tree, sticking his face in the branches as though whispering into it’s hypothetical ear. “Do not test me, you little shit.”

The next week, the tree bloomed out of season, and by February, it had set an obscene amount of fruit, which grandpa gleefully turned into preserves and mailed back to Iowa.

Kisses with Jimin...

Jinmin

Very much the type to kiss a lot, even in front of their friends. Not to a disrespectful level, but, say, if one of them is leaving while the other is staying, expect to see a quick peck on the lips between the two of them. Mostly gentle and sweet kisses–comparable to the softness of angel food cake. Think of kisses under the mistletoe. Good-night kisses and sweet see-you-later kisses.

Yoonmin

Kisses between them would seldom be seen by their friends. They have no problem showing off their love to the world, but they feel no need in having to be physical about it. Private kisses in the comfort of their own home, ranging anywhere from short and sweet to deep and passionate. Think of perfect kisses for the current mood. Never awkward.

Jiseok

Think…messy or sloppy kisses. These two are so gross, they probably don’t even think about other people around them when they feel like kissing in public. Their friends would hate being around them when they get into one of their moods. Innocent kisses? What are those? Sure, they may happen on the rare occasion, but Hoseok can’t really control himself when it comes to Jimin’s irresistible lips.

Minjoon

When it come to Jimin, Namjoon is a bit more gentle than people would expect. Kisses between these two would almost always be comforting and reassuring. Sweet kisses that make Jimin’s heart flutter. That’s not to say that Namjoon doesn’t have his moments where he just wants to devour Jimin. Who doesn’t get those moments?

Vmin

This the perfect kiss. Anytime. Every time. All the time. These two have such telepathy, and the best understanding of each other. As for the types of kisses, well, they would depend on Jimin’s behavior. Imagine soft and sweet kisses when Jimin is in one of his nice moods. Now think of more possessive kisses when Jimin gets just a little too flirty with other people, and Taehyung kisses him like he wants to remind Jimin who he really belongs with. Think forehead kisses. Kisses on the hand, and even cheek kisses.

Jikook

Jungkook is such a fluff ball that he probably showers Jimin with the sweetest kisses any time he wants them. Still, Jungkook can be quite possessive over Jimin, so every kiss, no matter how gentle or rough, seems to be a reminder for Jimin of just who it is that he belongs to. Butterfly kisses are definitely a thing with these two.

Cupcake concept:

•Connor Murphy is a black forest cake with dark chocolate ganache and a whipped chocolate icing
-he is slightly bitter, but he has his sweet moments that quickly turn sour.

•Evan Hansen is an angel food cake with a lemon curd filling and a blueberry frosting
-he’s a literal angel, but that lying business leaves a sour taste in my mouth

•Jared Kleinman is a Cinnamon​ and cardomon cake with a coffee frosting, and topped with spun sugar, for the cronch.
-the boy has a sharp tongue and so he gets some sharp flavors to match.

•I call them the Sincerely Three and they can be sold as a bundle or separately.

Make a Wish, Castiel

Words: 1.1k

Summary: You try to throw Castiel a real birthday party because he’s never had one before.

Warnings: Ooey gooey, sticky sweet fluff.

A/N: Written for Shannon’s Birthday Challenge. Happy early Birthday @splendidcas, hopefully this doesn’t suck. Master tag list at the end, let me know if you’d like to be added.

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