(I just got like five asks asking about the tractor joke so here we go. Keep in mind it’s better when told aloud and obvs it is not mine but the beauty of it is that you can MAKE it yours)
so there’s this little kiwi kid named
Timmy. He’s an average kid. Average suburban home, average kiwi
family, cool dog in the backyard. Nothing spectular. He’s maybe ten
years old? Scruffy blonde hair, gross clothes as per usual for a boy
his age. Boring. Timmy loves tractors.
It was December 23rd, exactly a year since Lola had entered the world and made their lives that might brighter and happier. Sure Christmas was only two days away but they were still throwing her a party especially since all of their family immediate and extended were in town to celebrate with them. That morning she had woken up early with Lola wanting to be fed and as she sat on the couch with her she remembered every little detail of the day that she gave birth to her and held her a little closer to her. "I love you so much, Boo." She whispered.
As soon as Lola had fallen asleep again Lea got up and started getting everything ready for the party later that day. It was only going to be simple with a cake, a lolly table and a barbecue lunch but it was all they needed. As she got to work cooking and decorating the cake she had made the night before. Every now and then she'd check on Lola only to see her still asleep in her pack and play and wonder where their tiny newborn had gone.
Come to Elle’s gym, give it a try!
All workouts counteracted by
Timtams, ice creams, lollies and cake,
And coffee to keep you awake.
Once you try Elle’s, you won’t go back,
It says so on our shiny plaque.
It’s engraved, so it must be true!
Come in or miss out, up to you.
We’ve bikes, and weights and sportsy things,
Even those step machines with springs.
You’ll come for fitness, but you’ll stay
For our exceptional cafe.
I know it's kinda similar to your food truck au (which is amazing), but you could write a bakery au. Or something completely different, like lawyers or a tattoo shop au.
alright anon! this is quite close to the food truck au and im sorry about that. in fact it originally started as backstory for food truck max and i suppose it still could be in some ways but it turned into something else by the end. thank you for sending me this!!! baking is such a nice warm comforting thing to write about.
It would not surprise Max to learn that many of the men he knew in service came back to live their lives soft and quiet and careful. The noise of war is a hard thing to dull but sometimes all it takes is a gentle noise or the curve of talcum powder skin. Sometimes that’s enough to quiet the roaring, to smother the great, terrible space perched behind eyes and under fingernails. He exchanges letters with a man who once flew helicopters and now grows poppies. He exchanges letters with a man who once had command of hundreds and now walks his children to school and drinks coffee and a little whiskey in the evenings. It’s true he also exchanges manic phone calls with a man who once disabled bombs and now sits in an armchair while his house rots around him, but Max chooses the softness of a bakery for himself. He is too brittle to fight much more than stubborn bread dough.