buttermilk-pancake

Send me a shade of color for my OC(s) to answer

Red - What makes you angry?

Crimson - Have you ever been in war? If so, describe how it impacted you

Maroon - What are you most passionate about?

Imperial - Are you in any position of power or authority? 

Ruby - Would you consider yourself impulsive or reckless?

Chili - Do you like spicy foods?

Brick - What are some things you dislike?

Rose - Would you consider yourself a romantic person?

Redwood - How tall are you? 

Wine - What is your opinion on alcohol? (and does it exist in your world?) 

Orange - What are some of your comfort foods?

Spice - Do you like to cook? Do you cook often?

Tangerine - What is your favorite fruit?

Peach - Are you generally a more gentle and soft spoken person or a louder and rougher person? 

Squash - Do you live in an agricultural setting?  If so, are you a farmer or something of the sort? What kind of crops do you grow?

Amber - Do you wield any sort of superpower? If so, what is it?  

Honey - Have you ever considered marrying someone? What is your opinion on marriage in general? 

Sandstone - Who in your life has been the most healing for you?

Rust - Have you thought about becoming old? Can you become old? Are you scared of being old? What do you think about elders? 

Pumpkin - What is your favorite part of Autumn? (If that exists in your world)

Jumpsuit - Have you ever been arrested/ in trouble with authority?

Bronze - What is your favorite way to warm up when it’s cold 

Yellow - Are you an optimist or a pessimist? 

Dandelion - Would you consider yourself stubborn? 

Marigold - What types of flowers are in your setting? Do you have a favorite?

Blonde - What is your hair color? do you like it?

Lemon - Are you more of a clean or dirty person?

Safety - What is the most traumatic experience in your life?

Gold - Would you consider yourself more rich or poor, in comparison to the world you live in?

Butterscotch - Is there candy in the world you live in? If so, do you have a favorite one? 

Daffodil - Do you like trying new things? What is something new you’d like to try?

Sunshine - Are you a more active or lazy person? 

Green - Was there ever a time in your life that you went through a period of growth? describe it. 

Juniper - What is the nature like in your setting? 

Shamrock - Do you believe in luck? If so, are you a generally lucky person?

Pine- If camping exists in your wold, have you gone camping? did you like it? do you go often?

Green tea - Does Tea it exist in your world?  If so do you like it, and which kind is your favorite? 

Fern - Would you enjoy running a flower shop? 

Seafoam - Are there bodies of water in your setting? Describe them if you can

Mint - Does Ice cream exist in your world? If so, what is your favorite Ice cream flavor? 

Laurel - Is there a major victory you’ve achieved in your life? if so, what is it? 

Emerald - If you could be immortal, would you want to be? 

Brunswick - Are you a person who is often jealous? what makes you jealous most often? 

Avocado - Are you a health nut or a fan of junkfood? 

Army - Do you have a fighting style? If so, what is it?

Olive - What is your Greek personality type? (sanguine, phlegmatic, choleric, or melancholic)

Blue - Are you a creative person? How do you like to be creative? 

Peacock - Are you a more flashy person, or do you like to blend in?

Sky - What is your favorite time of the day?

Arctic - Do you prefer warm or cool weather? 

Cerulean- What is your favorite way to cool down in hot weather?

Baby (blue) - Would you consider having children? If so, how many?

Periwinkle -  Would you consider yourself to be a good parent? what do you think a good parent should be?

Denim - What is your fashion style?

Navy - have you ever been on a boat/sailing? does it exist in your world? did you enjoy it? 

Ultramarine - What is your favorite aquatic creature? (if they exist) 

Cobalt - Do you live in a world with freedom? Describe your opinion on the subject

Teal - What makes you feel most at peace? 

Turquoise - Are you good at communicating your feelings?   

Lapis - What is your opinion on religion and the afterlife? 

Aegean - Would you consider yourself a wise person? who do you look to for wisdom? 

Purple - Is there magic in your world? if so, describe how it works

Violet - What is your ideal date?

Lilac - How would someone win you over?

Lavender - what is a smell you really like? 

Royal - How do politics work in your world?

Eggplant - What’s the weirdest thing you’ve eaten?

Amethyst- What is your aesthetic?

Mauve - What makes you feel nostalgic? 

Magenta - What is your Zodiac sign? 

Pink - Are you currently in a relationship? if so, who is your partner? 

Watermelon - what are your favorite summer activities?  

Bubblegum - Are you a sassy or sarcastic person? 

Salmon - Do you have any health issues or physical disabilities? 

Blush - Do you have a crush on anyone? If so, who is it?

Cotten candy - Would you say you have a sweet tooth?

Carnation - Are you comfortable with PDA? 

Rouge- Do you have an unpopular opinion? 

Pastel - Do you prefer pastel, bright, neon, or dark colors?

Coral - Do you have a strong moral code? What are some moral things that you feel strongly about?

Fuchsia - Are you a generally playful or goofy person? Who or what makes you feel playful or goofy? 

White - Do you consider yourself a good person? What’s the best thing you’ve ever done for somebody?

Snow - Have you ever seen snow? Do you like it? What do you like to do in the snow? 

Frost - What do you like to wear in cold weather?

Bone - When was the first time you ever witnessed death? How did it impact you?

Cotton - What do you like to wear for pajamas? 

Cream - Do you prefer Tea, Coffee, or Cocoa? (If your world has those things. If not, what sort of hot drinks do you have?)

Coconut - What would be your ideal vacation? 

Pearl - What do you look for in a romantic partner?

Parchment - Do you like to read or write? 

Lace - What would you name your child if you were to have one?

Porcelain - Do you consider yourself a delicate person? Do you fall apart easily? 

Salt - Would you consider yourself a mean person? What is it like to fight with you? 

Ghost- Are you easily scared? What scares you the most? 

Ivory - Do you play any musical instruments? If so, which ones and how well? 

Chiffon - Do you prefer a larger and cleaner environment, or a smaller and cozier one?

Alabaster - What is the most recognizable thing about you? What are people most likely to notice about you when they first meet you?

Egg-nog - Do you celebrate Christmas? If so, what traditions do you have? Which are your favorite?

Ecru - Do you have curly, wavy, or straight hair? 

Beige - What kind of foods do you eat when you’re bored?

Tan - What is your skin color? Do you like it, or do you wish you looked different?

Buttermilk - Do you prefer pancakes or waffles? (if those exist in your world)

Oatmeal - What is your usual breakfast?

Linen - What clothes do you wear to work?

Sugar cookie - What reminds you of your childhood? 

Sand - Have you ever been to a beach? If so, what’s your favorite thing to do at the beach? 

Hazel - What kind of folklore/myths/stories are told in your family/community?

Sepia - Do you have any hobbies? If so, what are they?

Buff - Would you consider yourself to be fit, fat, or skinny?

Latte - Do you like milk in your hot drinks? 

Brown- Where do you call home? 

Mocha - How do you like your coffee? (If you like coffee) 

Cinnamon - Which of the “Cinnamon Roll” memes fits you best? (looks like they could kill but is actually a cinnamon roll, looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you, looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll, looks like they could kill you and could actually kill you, or sinnamon roll)

Tawny - Cats or Dogs? (or any animal for that matter)

Hickory - How smart are you? Would you consider yourself more book smart or street smart?

Leather - How “basass” would you say you are?

Brunette - If you could change your hair color, what would you change it to? 

Gingerbread - What is your favorite holiday? 

Penny - If you could make a substantial living doing anything, what would you do?

Chocolate - Do you like chocolate? If so, what is your favorite way to eat it? 

Chestnut - Have you ever ridden an animal? If so, which one? 

Umber - Who do you call your friend? How many Friends do you have?

Carob - What do you look for in a friend? 

Cedar - How old are you? 

Caramel - How much does sugar affect you? 

Mahogany- What is your moral alignment? (Lawful good, Neutral good, Chaotic good, Lawful neutral, True neutral, Chaotic Neutral, Lawful evil, Neutral evil, Chaotic Evil)   

Peanut - Do you have any allergies? 

Grey/Gray - Introvert, Extrovert, or Ambivert? 

Shadow - What is your biggest regret? 

Silver - What do you imagine the future to be like? 

Graphite - Do you like to draw? If so, do you draw often? What do you like to draw?

Smoke - Have you ever taken any drugs? 

Fog - Was there ever a period in your life when you were confused and lost? how did you get out of it? 

Fossil - Do you have any older relatives other than your parents? If so, how many? Do you like them? 

Slate - If you could erase any memory from your life, would you do it? If so, which memory would you chose? 

Cloud - What do you spend the majority of your time thinking about? 

Ash - Is there something or someone from your past that you miss? 

Iron - Have you ever used a weapon? Do you own one? If so what is it?

Black - What is the darkest thing you’ve ever done? 

Ebony - Describe your family

Onyx - What are your nightmares most often about? 

Obsidian - Do you suffer from any mental disabilities? 

Spider - What irrational fears do you have? 

Charcoal - on a scale of one to ten how would you rate your survival skills? 

Soot - How hard do you work to achieve your goals? 

Midnight - Are you a night or morning person?

Raven - Can you fly? If not, do you ever dream about flying? 

Ink - write your autobiography in one sentence 

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La douleur exquise Pt.1 (M)

La douleur exquise: The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

Summary: You’ve been helplessly in love with your brother’s best friend all your life, but he can’t see you as anything other than a little sister.

Pairing: Wonho(?) x Reader (feat. Jungkook) ((let me live))

Word Count: 8.8k

Warning(s): No smut in this chapter but I’ll promise there will be in the next chapters!

A/N: Hi! So I’ve actually had this done for quite awhile and was debating on whether or not to post it in it’s entirety but I have a lot in store for this idea so I decided to do it in parts! This idea is based off of these pics here x x x of Wonho cuz he just looks so boyfriend & I love him so hardgysasjsknc. And I’m tagging this as a Jungkook scenario because you’ll be seeing him more eventually. Also, I’m working on drabbles in the meantime as well DON’T THINK I FORGOT THEM OK I’LL BE POSTING ONE SOON hope you enjoy this in the meantime!!

Keep reading

2

Classic Buttermilk Pancakes 

Breakfast classic! 

Ingredients 

2 cups all-purpose flour 

2 cups whole-fat buttermilk

2 large eggs 

4 tbsp melted butter, slightly cooled 

1 ½ tbsp granulated sugar 

¼ tsp nutmeg

½ tsp cinnamon 

½ tsp baking soda 

1 ½ tsp baking powder 

2 tsp vanilla extract 

Dash of salt 

Zest from ½ lemon, optional

NOTE: The main thing to remember is that the ratio of flour:buttermilk:eggs is always 1:1:1

Directions 

Preheat your griddle or skillet to medium heat.

In a large bowl, sift together the dry ingredients and set aside. 

In another bowl, combine the wet ingredients.

Make a small well into the center of the dry ingredients and pour in your wet ingredients.

Using a silicone spatula or whisk, combine all of the ingredients until just combined. 

NOTE: Be careful to not over-mix the batter or else the gluten will develop in the flour and you will not have light and airy pancakes. 

Let the batter rest for a few minutes. 

Generously coat your skillet/griddle with butter or non-stick cooking spray. 

Using a 1/3 cup measure, scoop out your batter onto your cooking surface and cook until golden brown on each side, roughly 3 minutes per side. 

Serve while hot with butter and maple syrup.

Enjoy! 

More Than Good | R.M.

imagine requested by @rxggie-mxntle

Summary: In which you, a student-athlete, believes that you are not good enough. Reggie Mantle thinks otherwise.

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hamilton + restaurant headcanons

(assuming theyre all sitting together)

aaron

  • sticks with water for his drink
  • but lowkey pours sugar packets into it
  • gets soup or salad every time
  • he asks for extra crackers…. he loves soup and crackers
  • (hes an old man)
  • he also sometimes ask for a piece of toast if hes feeling frisky 
  • never gets dessert. never. ever. ever.

alexander 

  • QUESADILLAS. 
  • literally if anyone touches his salsa he will fight them 
  • he loves sour cream from the bottom of his heart 
  • needs to have peppers in his QUESADILLAS or else 
  • he gets mountain dew if they have any but if not he just. gets beer 
  • like it could be 8 in the morning and hed still get a bottle of beer 

 john 

  • if you think this boy is getting anything other than a burger and fries you are dead wrong 
  • drizzles ketchup on his fries as well as vinegar and salt 
  • he usually has to take home something though 
  • he can never finish all of the burger AND all of the fries 
  • asks for ice cream even if hes full 
  • gets coke for his drink. 
  • (obviously) 

 lafayette 

  • this man is getting eggs benedict 
  • no matter WHAT time of the day 
  • hes getting those eggies on his plate 
  • drinks hot tea or coffee with lots and lots of sugar
  • leaves a generous tip. like too nice 
  • doesnt eat his hashbrowns with ketchup (john calls him a sinner) 

hercules 

  • if you think this man is getting anything OTHER THAN NACHOS 
  • he only eats them with guac though
  • asks for extra napkins all the damn time 
  • (he doesnt want to ruin his shirt) 
  • (but like he literally asks for napkins everytime the waitress comes back) 
  • (she doesnt like him) 
  • has discourse with john about pepsi vs coke 
  • because he prefers pepsi 

angelica 

  • SHE GETS FISH THATS SUPER FANCY
  • like its sitting on lettuce and is sprinkled with pepper or lemon or something 
  • doesnt get dessert and tries to snatch some from her sisters 
  • only drinks iced tea. only iced tea. 
  • (sometimes she steals some of johns fries too) 
  • (hes too busy arguing with hercules to notice) 
  • doesnt help leave a tip if the servers an ass 
  • ends up paying quite often though too

eliza 

  • she gets french toast or waffles. 
  • of course. 
  • always asks for some sort of topping like whipped cream or chocolate chips or strawberry slices 
  • puts Too Much syrup on. 
  • (like way too much) 
  • she also basically only gets chocolate milk or hot chocolate 
  • she doesnt like drinking pop with her sweet and fluffy foods 
  • gets dessert even though ??? her meal was ??? basically dessert ??? 
  • (its normally cake) 
  • cant finish it 
  • of course she cant finish it 

peggy

  • she gets ribs. everywhere she goes she gets ribs and nothing else 
  • somehow eats it WITHOUT GETTI G ANY SAUCE ON HER FACE??? 
  • shes mastered the art 
  • drinks about 10 glasses of sprite to go with it 
  • gets up to pee like 10 times
  • only gets dessert if they have brownies 
  • and will stab anyone who tries to steal some from her with a fork 

thomas

  • if they dont give him mac and cheese from the kids menu he’ll get spaghetti
  • (*sigh* “well if im not allowed to get mac and cheese i guess *sigh* ill have the spaghetti” *sigh*) 
  • he’ll glare at the waiter whenever they come around 
  • gets cheesecake for dessert 
  • puts a LOT OF SALT ON HIS PASTA 
  • (he is a salty boy) 
  • finds something to complain to the manager about most days 

james

  • black coffee. 
  • nothing in it. 
  • will drink it even if its scalding hot 
  • he gets buttermilk pancakes. 
  • but with… nothing on them 
  • no syrup no strawberries no whipped cream 
  • not even butter 
  • (eliza stares at him in horror the entire time) 
  • just…. the pancakes by themselves ….
Aeonian AU Series part 1

A Nessian Greek Mythology based fic and a darker twist to this ship. There will be this Aeonian series (Nessian) and an Antiscians series (Elorcan). 


“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

Aeonian 1

“Poor Nesta,” Ianthe chided. “No longer a virgin.”

Nesta’s fingers wrapped around her fork, gripping the cold metal tightly.

“No God would want a deflowered woman,” the blond crooned. “Especially one who does know her place.”

Nesta stabbed a piece of salad, and shoved it into her mouth. Chewing slowly on the hard leaves, she quelled the chaotic waves surging within her. She refused to give into her anger—to allow Tomas to have the last hold on her.

“You always talked about not wanting a God.” The blond-haired smiled, sharp as a blade. “I guess Tomas Mandray really did you a favor.”

That was the last straw for Nesta. Yes, no God would want to claim a non-virgin—which was perfectly fine with her, especially after all Feyre had been accounted for, still missing to this day— but for Ianthe to dare—have the audacity to—rub assault in her face, even from the dark times of three years ago—

The eldest Archeron sister twirled the fork in her fingers, staring hard at the yellow leaves and squished fruit in front of her. It was against the law to attack a priestess, and an even greater sin to murder the village’s Head Priestess.

But no one said anything against accidents.

With a flick of her wrist, Nesta sent the fork flying out her hands and at Ianthe’s right eye.

A perfect execution.

A warning that a line had been crossed.

A loud gasp escaped from Nesta’s mouth, and she lunged forward, knocking Ianthe to the floor. The High Priestess’s shrill pierced the air, and Nesta moved quickly, digging the edge of the fork deeper, twisting the metal. Even through the metal, she could feel the edges grinding against the root, white and pink liquid swirling.

“I’m so sorry!” Nesta cried, slipping on a mask of horror, climbing over the other female. “I can’t pull it out.” Her hair fell across her face, a shadowed curtain—and she allowed Ianthe to see the dark smile cutting across hers face, sharper and deeper than any mortal blade.

For three years, the darkness’ isolation cultivated into something icier and harsher—a ghost of a phantom whirling within her. She’d shown Ianthe just a pinch.

As the High Priestess shrieked, bodyguards stormed into the diner, clad in plates of metal, faces shadowed by a thick black mask. Nesta allowed the memories of three years ago to consume her, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Loosening her grip on the fork, she curled into herself, rocking on her heels.

The nearest guard grabbed her elbows and set her roughly onto her feet.

“What the hell happened?” he gruffly ordered, shaking her shoulders.

Ianthe let out a hiss, but Nesta’s contempt was a gaping abyss full of raw will.

The eldest Archeron sister harshly rubbed away stray tears seeping down her cheeks, and forced down the sick smile threatening to erupt across her face. “The High Priestess came out of nowhere—” Nesta hiccuped “—my reflexes spun out of control—”

“Psychopath!” Ianthe screeched. “Chain her! Whip her!”

When the guard reached out for her, Nesta collapsed onto her knees, and laid her palms against the Priestess’s heart. “Forgive me,” she loudly cried. “I meant no malice.”

She leaned in closer to Ianthe’s face, as if she were to kiss her cheeks, the fallen woman sobbing and shuddering. Nesta brushed a finger against the golden-haired woman’s forehead as an almost tender caress, and wrapped her hand around the emblem pinned to Ianthe’s robes. Pressing her lips against the High Priestess’ ear, Nesta whispered, “Now you can see darkness.”

Ianthe kicked upwards; Nesta rolled off of the blue-robed woman.

Ianthe’s trembling fingers grasped the hilt of the fork. Blearily staring up through her left eye, she ordered, “Put her in an empty cell!”

The guard trapped Nesta’s wrists, tugging her away from the High Priestess. Little did they know they were trying to cage and corner a wildcat, bred from the savageness only the true seers of society saw.

Nesta schooled her features into a blank, empty face, struggling within the solid grip. She spared a glance towards the blue-robed woman. “The only cells missing are those in your eye.”

Stepping over the boots and knocking herself forward as she were tripping, Nesta twisted herself out of the guard’s grasp, using the falling momentum to bring the guard down on his back.

Plates of metal lumbered towards her, and Nesta tore out the the diner, blocking the sounds of Ianthe’s feeble cries of my eye, my eye, my eye over and over again.

Fixing her sleeve, a darker and sharper smile shot over Nesta’s face.

She didn’t even have to pay for that shit excuse of a meal.


Nesta stole through the night and into the forest. Here, the darkness draped over her already black-clad frame. She knew this path at the back of her mind, weaving through thick tree trunks and sailing over high-branched roots. Slowly, the heavy clanging sounds of armor receded from her ears, but Nesta picked up her pace.

This was the seventh village Elain and Nesta had taken refuge in—ever since Feyre had been taken three years ago and Tomas had yanked her into a barn, both Archeron sisters turned into wanderers, fleeing with the wind. Trust was reduced to bread crumbs, and even they could barely afford for the tiniest slice.

What God had taken Feyre—Nesta had no idea, but had her suspicions. It had been any other morning, Nesta serving buttermilk pancakes while Elain had went up to fetch Feyre from the drawing room. Rather than seeing their middle sister painting with her hair twisted up into a messy bun, the stench of alcohol and grapes had permeated the room.

Elain had screamed. Nesta came up running with a knife in her hand.

Feyre’s hunting clothes had been strewn all over the floor, a purplish-green scrap of fabric littering across a canvas. It was as if the their middle sister had given them a warning and a signal that she’d been claimed—by a God.

When Gods claimed humans, they dressed them in their ornamental colors and symbols. Yet green and purple were common colors, even found among the varying masses of minor Gods.

It was then Nesta banished all hope of desiring to be claimed by a God. She’d once dreamed among the others to be one with another force, to see through another set of eyes, and to ascend their mortal limits.

She’d once set apples and pears along the mantle of Athena, the one God she’d revered the most. Three years ago, she’d pray to the God of Wisdom, asking for guidance. Now all she did was pray to the minor Gods of vengeance and fear, demanding divine retribution for those who had wronged her—because it hadn’t just been her who’d been afflicted and twisted.

Nesta had watched Elain spiral into the coldness as well. The youngest Archeron no longer made honeyed offerings to Demeter, the goddess of the Earth. She instead grew darker roses and pricked her fingers as if lines of blood served as her penance.

It was as if the darkness of the demons had descended upon the Archeron sisters.

No happiness, no protection, no understanding.  

A branch snagged the sleeve of her arm, and Nesta hissed. Despite this village’s soldier pursuing her and having to move to another village, she felt oddly safe and warm.

Perhaps it was because she’d stolen the golden emblem from the High Priestess, the coin tucked securely under her sleeve. The price would last them another to journey to another village.  

The moon casted swirls strange colors of white against the darkness and the green of the forest. She slowed to a walk, taking in her surroundings. The branches reached low, casting estranged shadows that curved and murmured unspoken cacophonies the human ear tuned out. Nesta slowly angled her body and slid through a cluster of vines.

The myths had become reality a long time ago, the Gods deciding to end their supposed boredom in waiting. The beginnings of their reappearance into society was often bloody, jealously in both claiming humans rampant and in being desired to be claimed.

Their father had worshipped Hermes, the messenger God, and named the Archeron fortune in his name. Nesta had considered it justice when a business company across the sea had sunk their father’s ship, and had stolen every commodity on board.

Their father had never returned the sail back, a merchant worshipping the God of Thieves saw the end, robbed of life and fortune.

The obsession with the Gods had seen the decline in family values, many children left alone or pitted against each other. Their father had been no exception, travelling to Athens, Greece, in hope of appeasing the Gods.

Death had been his answer.

While Nesta believed it to be foolish to devote a lifetime in praying for Gods, the higher beings indeed chose humans. Those taken under their wing received immortality. It could be eons before Feyre would be brought back to them willingly and unwillingly, and there was a high chance Nesta and Elain would be six feet under in a coffin or reduced to ashes by that time.  

It had taken Feyre’s kidnapping for Nesta to realize that being trapped in a powerful body with no regard for lesser creatures and their emotions and past was something she did not want.

So she stopped praying and stopped her offerings.

Elain had followed suit.

Both sisters had been shunned from the original village in consequence.

Now that Nesta harmed Ianthe, it looked like they’d have to move again. Whisperings of rumors and fault had followed the Archeron sisters as they travelled, and it never seemed the words would never cease.

Cursed.

Yet solace stirred within her, and Nesta scowled at the false sense of security crawling within her.

Elain would be beyond worried by now. Nesta knocked away the thin branches and ducked under a canopy of large ivies she knew would reveal a large clearing only a couple of meters away from their temporary home. Soon, she’d be running in the veil of the night, holding Elain’s thin hands again.

Her head rammed into steely hardness.

She rubbed her nose and slowly backed up.

Seething, Nesta untucked a dagger hidden under her sleeve, and pushed the wall forward with her other hand.

It didn’t move.

Squinting through the darkness, Nesta realized that streaks of red pooled down silver plates, sheer power exuding from the figure.

A soldier.

The amount of blood could only mean a dead man.

But if a soldier was here, then the chances of Elain’s safety was very low. She had to get out of here.

Cursing under her breath, she turned around back under the canopy, but a gloved hand with a huge, red jewel pulsating at the center lashed out and captured her wrist.

It was a solid grasp, almost crushing her bones.

This was not the ordinary soldier’s strength. And it was a very much alive man.

She dropped the dagger into her other hand and sliced it vertically towards the hand.

Her blade merely bounced off, falling to the ground.

With a yank, the hand jerked her back against a chest of steel and coldness. Yet Nesta felt warmth pour over every vein and crevice in her body.

The male towered over her, dark, hazel eyes cramming into her own soul, sheer strength emanating from him, broad shoulders with muscles roping around an enormous form.

A purebred, dangerous warrior.

Those piercing orbs raked over her from the bottoms of her torn boots over her clothes and under the slope of her breasts up to her collarbone and into her own stormy eyes. Black boots, black pants, black sleeves—and if he looked close enough, he’d see a black painted heart.

A brow flicked up. “Whose funeral?”

Nesta shuddered at the low, husky voice that shot down her spine. She refused to be weak again, the last time she was in a male’s embrace three years ago.

“Get off me,” she hissed instead, and squirmed fruitlessly in his grasp.

His dark inked hair and ruggedly shaven face rang a bell, but Nesta didn’t care, not when Elain had been alone far too alone. The predatory glint in the male’s face heightened memories of three years ago, but her body remained strangely calm and soothed.

“That’s no way to treat a God.”

Nesta realized the blood seeping from the armor was not from the male’s, but a head hanging from the canopy above, and raining down.

Nesta arched her own brow. “I’d suggest planning his funeral soon.” She could see the outlines of the dead body strung along vines and branches, gutted and torn apart.

The male shrugged. “If you want to plan a murdering liar’s funeral, then be my guest.” The arm around her waist hitched up to rub circles across her back, almost daring her to string the body back to pieces.

Nesta didn’t find the action disturbing, but rather reassuring. Perhaps he was a minor god in infatuation or magic along those lines.

A dangerous smile appeared on those rough-hewn features, as those seemingly pulsing eyes studied her. “I like women who can handle blood.”

“I like men who can respect boundaries.” Nesta damned her cover and swore if he didn’t let her go, she’d scream—even if it meant drawing the village’s soldiers here.

The male seemed to read her thoughts. “You think humans are match for a God?”

Nesta didn’t reply, and cursed her own traitorous body sinking into the comfort and warmth the male seemed to offer.

He leaned in closer, a hand stroking her hair. “A match for the God of War?”

Nesta’s eyes widened. “You lie.”

“Now why would I lie, sweetheart?” The God leaned down and brushed his mouth against her ear. “Especially to one I want to claim?”

Another last straw for Nesta. She lashed out, but the God easily cupped her knee cap with one hand—just hovering over the V of his hips—and the other hand flattening a palm against her back.

“A cheap shot.” A grin.

Nesta went up on her toes, her hands cupping the God’s cheek. His skin was warm and sent delicious trills down her. The God leaned down as well, his eyes darkening a low growl erupting from his throat, and hands folding around her waist. Just before his lips closed on hers, Nesta’s knee collided with her aim.

It was a pity his armor covered his torso as the God doubled over in pain, a foul curse leaving his mouth.

Nesta didn’t wait before she sprinted around the clearing and to the house where Elain was waiting. Running past the locked front door, she hurdled over a bush into the back.

Slipping through the window and into their shared room, Nesta grabbed her bag, stuffing the nearest clothes into the brown material.

A frail figure rose from the tiny bed, and Elain rubbed her eyes. “Nesta?” she whispered, a sigh of relief escaping her chapped lips.

“Pack,” Nesta ordered. “We’ve got to move again.”

Elain immediately hauled herself out of the bed, rapidly opening all the tiny cupboards and sweeping the contents into bags. “What was it this time?”

“Ianthe, soldiers, and a God.” Nesta folded all the blankets and stuffed the pillows.

“The High Priestess?” Elain said, heading to the bathroom. When she emerged, all the toiletries had been zipped into bags and stuffed into a larger sack. “What God?”

A God of War.

One that made her feel alive instead of merely existing.

Instead, Nesta said, “Just a minor one.” She beckoned Elain to head to the kitchen so pack their last rations, the cold air seeping into their skin. She gave the guards about another hour before they found their refuge.

Locking the window shut, Nesta froze when Elain’s scream shattered the air. Bolting into the next room, she snarled when she saw Elain shivering and staring in shock at a large figure radiating the familiar sense of power—seating himself in the ragged and torn chair as if it were a throne fit for a king.

But that was what he was compared to them.

“Just a minor God?” the God tsked his tongue, staring at Nesta—as if Elain were invisible and as if he could consume Nesta right there and then.

“Get out of my house,” she seethed, and nudged Elain away.

Elain levelled Nesta with a clipped stare. “Really, Nesta? The God of War? Ares?”

Ares.

The name sent shivers down her spine. It made the situation too real, too risky. By no means was this some minor God, as Elain had realized, trembling. 

She supposed it was the small mercies—the God allowing Elain to bolt away—that mattered.

An eyebrow cocked towards her. “It’s won’t be your house much longer will it, Nesta?” When she didn’t answer—her veins on fire—he pushed further. “Guards are searching for you and closing in.”

“What do you want?”

The God rose from the chair, the darkness wavering around him. The red jewels on top of each of his gloves exuded another type of power. A set of dimples winked down on her and those deep, brown eyes stared unfathomably at her. “I want to claim you.”

Nesta swallowed. This was her last defense, her last barrier to remain free: “I’m not a virgin.”

With swiftness beyond reason, the God moved so he was in front of her. He studied her eyes and the pulse along her throat—the fury and the rage in her own eyes and the quicker, beating pulse in memory of three years ago. Seconds passed before his eyes narrowed, and he gutted out, “Who?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You resist my claim, and the guards will be here sooner than you think.”

Nesta shivered. “Then you’re just as bad as him.”

The male who had taken her away three years ago.

The God of War looked down at her, and gently reached out a hand, traced with scars and bruises. When she didn’t bat it away, his knuckles slowly caressed her cheek. “I can help you, sweetheart.”

She’d wasted enough time. “Help is just another word for control.”

Who hurt you,” the God snarled, the red stones flaring. Lethal dark oozed from them.

A crash sounded from the other side, and Elain meekly peeked up from under the countertop. “I packed all the kitchenware.”

The God of War didn’t spare a glance in the other direction, determinedly staring into her soul—seeing the darkness. “I can help you and your sister. You’ll be safe. You won’t have to run again.”

“At what cost?”

He leaned down so that his forehead touched hers. Warmth shot through her at the contact, and in that moment, she felt safer than she’d even been in his life.

“I claim you,” he murmured, voice dark and dangerous, deep and deadly. “As mine.”

“And if I refuse?”

A glimmer of amusement in those hazel eyes. “I hear cells in this village are quite cold.”

“Threatening a mortal?”

“What can I say, sweetheart?” A cocky, dark grin, honed from insanity and lunacy in the battlefield. “All’s fair in love and war.”

There are only three days a year on which Lucas Sinclair wakes up even earlier than usual: Christmas, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. The latter two involve sneaking quietly into the kitchen to prepare fluffy buttermilk pancakes for breakfast in bed. After that, Father’s Day consists of driving out to the amusement park and accompanying his dad on all the biggest, faster roller coasters. Over dinner, Lucas asks his father to recount stories from his past: his days in college studying physics, meeting his mother at the theatre, training for the army, his past playing in a jazz band. They’re stories Lucas has heard dozens of times, but he knows his father loves telling them. And he loves hearing them.

Slappy Cakes

What I like most about Slappy Cakes is that dining there is not just about eating and consuming good food. There’s an activity which you and your loved ones can enjoy. The fun begins in choosing which batter, fixins and toppings you’d like to have. Next comes the happy part of cooking pancakes of various shapes according to your liking. I’m sure kids and kids at heart will love the concept of Slappy Cakes. 

We chose to have the good old Buttermilk batter (P225). We ordered Chocolate chips (P45) and added that to our batter to make chocolate chip pancakes. The Lemon curd (P80) is a terrific choice as topping since it adds a tangy twist to our sweet pancake. I can’t get enough of their lemon curd and I’ll surely pick that again on my next visit.

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Breathe ~ An Avenger’s Story  (10/15)

Originally posted by karlmordo

AU Summary: With more elaborate tests with Dr. Banner, Y/N finds more information about her abilities and why she’s alive.

Notes: gravitonium and dr. Hall showed up in Agents of shield. ok? so its definitely in the mcu. also coulson and inhumans :)

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

MASTERLIST


“I thought Gravitonium was a pain in the ass to control.”

“Yes. But it is possible to.” Bruce opened up a document with a swipe of his fingers. “Dr. Franklin Hall. He was a former asset for SHIELD and became famous for his work and theories on the extremely rare element known as gravitonium. Hall also designed a theoretical machine that could stimulate the element in a way that would allow its gravitational fields to be harnessed. It was destroyed along with him but the gravitonium was locked in SHIELD’s storage facility. But last time we checked, it wasn’t there.”

“Hmmm.” Stark stared at the holographic files in front of him. “So if we find Hall’s files on gravitonium then maybe we could find the source of Y/N’s abilities. Maybe even make it more powerful.”

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Morning Surprises

Originally posted by jiminy-krispies

Hello everyone! Surprise! Here’s a little Sunday drabble for your pleasure to give you some extra sweet and happy feelings today! 

Tags: @kourt-kay @boots-jpg @bananakid42 @mtttme if you want to be on the tagged list, just message me! :3

Warnings: Overbearing cuteness

Enjoy!

~~

     The songs of birds begin to wake you up, the soothing chirping allowing for a nice and slow rise. Sunny rays being dimmed by dark curtains as to not blind you as soon as your eyes open in the morning. Muscles stretch and bones crack as you start to shift under the fluffy, warm gray covers. Though as you stretch, you realize there’s a certain husband missing from your bed. Eyebrows knit together as you sit up, he always waits for you to get up. Or, he would at least wake you up if he doesn’t feel like waiting. So, where is he?

     You yawn and throw the covers off you, ready to search for your sweetheart. A glance at the nightstand clock tells you it’s a little past eight as you begin your journey, bare feet landing on the white plush carpet beneath them. You quickly go to do your morning routine, having to wipe the sleep out of your eyes multiple times before it was over. Once it was, however; your feet pad down the stairs only to lead your senses into heaven.

     The smell of buttermilk pancakes lingers in the air for your enjoyment. A fresh fruit aroma joins it to a truly mouthwatering scent. Oh, and you can’t even begin to describe the smile that spreads across your lips when the chocolate scent reaches you. Eyes shut as if to relish in this sensational paradise, you stay still for a bit longer before remember what you came down here for. That amazing goofball of yours who’s probably making all these glorious aromas as you stand around.

     Yet, as soon as you make your way into his view, you see excitement…  and panic enter his eyes. “Morning, Mark-” He dashes from the kitchen and scoops you up, making sure to face you away from the scene as he offers you a charming smile all while giving you a mini heart attack. That’s when you can start to hear the giggles of your precious son from behind you in kitchen.

     “Hey, honey!” Mark plants a kiss on your forehead, “What are you doing up already?”

     You join your darling son in laughter as you look at your husband with confusion and curiosity, “Looking for you?”

     An over trying laugh comes from him that sends you into another bout of laughs yourself, “Oh! Well you found me! Good job! Fun game!”

     “You’re so silly, daddy!” Your son, Ben, chirps in. His adorable spirit already brightening your morning- it then dawns on you. It’s Mother’s Day, isn’t it?

     “Wait a minute,” You say meeting the beaming brown eyes of your husband, “Are you guys making me breakfast?”

     “Pfft, no!” Mark scoffs failing miserably at hiding the truth.

     “You are, aren’t you?” The smile on your face growing bigger with excitement and admiration for you boys.

     “No, definitely not.”

     “Yeah! We’re making… um, Mr. Featherpants breakfast!” Your heart swells at your son’s exclamation, the mention of his imaginary friend who not only wears feather pants, but is a blue elephant who loves Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles along with your son. Oh, and according to Ben, Mr. Featherpants also owns a peanut business- he is a professional, after all.

     “Yeah, it’s all for Mr. Featherpants, sorry baby. So, you can go back upstairs for a few more minutes, sound good?” His walnut eyes almost beg yours to just go along with it and after a quick laugh and shake of the head, you give in.

     “Sounds good, honey.” Mark’s face explodes into a joyous grin, he sets you back down, cupping your face and steals a kiss from your lips. You can’t help but smile, how did you get so lucky?

     “I’ll see you boys soon!” You holler as you start back up the stairs.

     “Bye mommy!”


     A few minutes later, the bedroom door bursts open and your two favorite boys enter the room with the most lovely scent of a delightful breakfast following them. Instantly, the world seems to shine so much brighter, a smile becoming on your lips as you see their own, “Happy Mother’s Day!”

     Ben hops up on your bed and sits beside you, utensils in his tiny tan hands while Mark carries the plate and places it on your lap, “Breakfast is served, m’lady.”

     “Did we fool you, mama? It was all for you! Not Mr. Featherpants!” Ben giggles, snuggling up next to you. While he has his father’s hair, dark and adorably curled, along with his monolids. Though the color of his big, gleeful eyes matched your own. It’s one a few traits that he got from you, other than that, it is almost scary how much he looks like Mark.

     You gasp and envelope him in your arms, which he returns almost instantly, “You did! Good job, sweetie, I’m so happy you made me breakfast.” You place a loving kiss atop his head, “Thank you, baby.”

     “You’re welcome, mommy! I love you!” He chimes cheerfully and you giggle lightly.

     “I love you too, baby,” You cooed, ruffling his black locks.

     “And daddy helped!” He added, though puts a hand to his mouth as if to whisper to you, although doesn’t do his best on it- which only adds to his level of cuteness. “We had flowers but daddy left thems on the table and Chica ate thems,” Ben sighs, pouting. “It’s all daddy’s fault.”

     Now that causes a stream of laughter from your lips as your hug your son tighter, “Oh my goodness, Ben, you’re amazing!”

     “Thank you mommy!”

     Mark, on the other hand, fights his laughter as he stands agape, “Ben, that was our secret! What happened buddy?”

     Your son laughs and buries his face in his chest, hiding from the playful eyes of his father, a muffled yell comes next, “Sorry, daddy!”

     Mark playfully smirks and pulls him off of you, cradling the six-year old in his arms and playfully tossing him in his arms, streams of giggles coming from Ben as Mark talks to him in random and silly voices.

     You shake your head as you look up at them with pure love, “I love Mother’s Day.”

     And in a swift movement, Mark sets Ben down and the two squeeze you in a loving, albeit suffocating, hug. “And I love you, mommy!”

     “Love you, baby!”

     “And I love you both, my two favorite boys!”

     It’s a wonderful start to Mother’s Day, isn’t it?

Fightstarter Karaoke (DC TV)

Oh, I have an idea for a silly, quick fic! 5K words later… Title from the song by Dropkick Murphys.

Title: Fightstarter Karaoke (AO3)
Fandom: DC TV
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5237
Characters: Len, Mick, Lisa
Summary: Mick does not approve of Len’s diet and decides to start up a wager.


Living with Mick is the fucking worst. It’s not actually- even trying to cram two grown men into a shitty one bedroom with a crappy sofa bed and crappier mattress, it’s better than living with Lewis. But staying in the same place as someone he doesn’t have to tread lightly around quickly became a game of ‘Is This Habit A Previously Unknown Pet Peeve of Len’s’. Mick is horrendously good at that game. He leaves wet towels on floors or counters, switches television channels in the middle of a show, puts his dirty projects on the table and hoards trinkets both valuable and not. Which isn’t hypocritical of Len at all because at least Len organizes his stolen hoard and not just shoves them into whatever free space is available.

Len’s aware, of course, that this is a two-way street and Mick doesn’t hesitate to bitch about which of Len’s habits is driving him up the wall this time: talking- making legitimate criticisms! -over shows and movies, putting his booted feet on everything, letting Lisa stay over for days at a time. Her staying Mick never actually minds, it’s Len’s tendency of informing Mick of this by dropping Lisa’s bag on his stomach and kicking him off the least lumpy side of a sofa.

And his eating habits. Nothing gets Mick fuming like seeing what crap Len puts in his mouth. It comes to a head one day when Mick gets back from a grocery run and catches Len squeezing ketchup packets into a bowl of macaroni. Mick glowers at him and says, “You better be done with that by the time I finish putting refrigerated stuff away.”

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