#chocolate cracked cookies

[cornkernelle]

Im pending on content right now so take some crack ship art I did last year. Spun a wheel and well- surprising results. 3 dragons. How did that happen??

[eatengood]

Crack Cake Recipe

When we think of a crack cake, what comes to mind? It is a delicious dessert made with a mix of ingredients like cake mix, pudding, and butter.

[rinniereads123]

Crack

Everyone in my high school show choir Has had my mother’s crack. She made it for every occasion For three years straight. Parties, competitions, bus rides, etc. The main question before an event was, “Is your mom making the crack?” She made over 165 batches of it During my time in high school. And that’s just for the show choir. That doesn’t include the batches she made Just for us. We didn’t share those. Chocolate chip cookies, or “Crack cookies” as they’ve been deemed. Perfect every time she makes them. Slightly crispy on the outside, And perfectly gooey on the inside. The semi-sweet chocolate chips Balance the sweet yet salty cookie. “It’s just the Nestle Toll House recipe,” she says. “You can find it on the bag of chocolate chips.” But for some reason, her recipe feels different. As a Christmas gift, she gave the recipe To everyone in my graduating class. She wrote her tips and tricks on the recipe card Along with her phone number So they could ask her questions Or just talk to her when they want to. She has received texts from them Saying they made her cookies. “I swear you put crack in yours.” “They aren’t the same when I make them.” They still ask me if my mom can make The crack cookies for them. “Your mom is making cookies right now? I’m coming over.” As addicting as they may be, Her chocolate chip cookies Don’t actually have crack in them. Just a whole lot of love.

[seasalt-dreams-edits]

White Choco Stimboard

For mod bb

Icon source

 X  |  X  |  X

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[celestiallime]

woke up at 4 in the morning and stayed awake and I just had a chocolate chip cookie and let me tell you, it was amazing.

[castielafflicted]

committing to a bit with my roommate. we're using 11 and a half sticks of butter and 10 eggs today and tomorrow. I'm going to bring a stupid excess of cookies and mini cupcakes and brownie bites to Thanksgiving dinner. the most I've ever made was like 12 dozen cookies and it was ridiculous. our low ball is close to 15 dozen. there will be even less people for dinner than the time I made 144 fucking cookies.

[magazynkulinarny]

Czekoladowe popękane ciasteczka

Robi się je szybko, a jeszcze szybciej zjada. Są mocno czekoladowe, z zewnątrz lekko kruche, w środku miękkie, wilgotne i rozpływają się w ustach...

Jeśli jesteście na rozmaitych dietach-sretach i unikacie łakoci, nie rezygnujcie z ich upieczenia. Pomyślcie o kimś, kogo moglibyście nimi uraczyć (swego czasu piekłam ciasta i zawoziłam na Dworzec Centralny dla osób w kryzysie bezdomności).

Zdecydowanie przyjemniej jest się podzielić sercem i czasem z potrzebującymi, niż dbać wyłącznie o siebie i swoich.

Składniki:

szklanka cukru  1/2 szklanki gorzkiego kakao  1/2 szklanki oleju roślinnego 1 duże jajko 

1 żółtko 2 łyżeczki ekstraktu waniliowego łyżeczka proszku do pieczenia 1/2 łyżeczki soli szklanka mąki uniwersalnej 2/3 tabliczki gorzkiej czekolady ok. 3/4 szklanki cukru pudru do obtaczania Wykonanie:

W dużej misce wymieszać suche składniki: mąkę, cukier, kakao, proszek do pieczenia i sól, a następnie dolać mokre składniki: olej, jajko, żółtko i wanilię i dokładnie wymieszać, aż powstanie jednolita masa (nie ubijać zbyt mocno). Wówczas dodać drobno posiekaną czekoladę i ponownie wymieszać.

Przykryć miskę folią i wstawić do lodówki na cztery godziny lub na całą noc.

Rozgrzać piekarnik do 175°C. Blachę wyłożyć papierem do pieczenia. Wsypać cukier puder do małej miseczki i odstawić.

Używając średniej wielkości (2 łyżki stołowe) łyżki (używam łyżki do lodów), porcjować ciasto i toczyć kulki. Kulki ciasta obtaczać obficie i równomiernie w cukrze pudrze i delikatnie układać na blasze do pieczenia, w odległości 3-4 cm od siebie. Tak wykorzystać całe ciasto.

Piec 9-11 minut, aż ciastka się upieką, a ich wierzchy popękają. Ciasteczka piątkowo będą lekko miękkie. Pozostawić na blasze przez pięć minut, a następnie przenieść na metalową kratkę, aby całkowicie ostygły.

[hopefullystillliving]

New talent acquired!

Improvised hairpin: being unwilling to find an actual hair tie bc you took them off your wrist last night and forgot to return them, but needing your hair up while baking, figure out how to correctly stab yourself with a pencil so that your hair remains in place.

[morganbritton132]

Btw, after all the escapades and hijinks ensue, and everybody’s like, ‘wtf Bruce, how do you forget to tell someone their parents died??’ This conversation happens:

Everybody: Tim, if you thought you’d been kidnapped, why didn’t say anything to anybody?

Tim: I liked it here.

AU where Tim, age nine, walked three miles to his neighbor’s house, held up his bleeding hand to Alfred, and asked if he could please have a bandaid. He got stitches instead, and a hug from Dick, who squeezed him tight and asked, “Can we keep him?”

And then Tim never went home again.

He learns gymnastics with Dick and reads in the library with Jason. He shows Alfred how to reset the wifi and rambles on to Bruce about his latest obsession (shipwrecks), and he never sees his parents again.

Behind the scenes, there was a kid left alone in a mansion while a whole international incident played out. It included a kidnapping, a ransom, a failed hostage negotiation, and two dead parents never coming home.

It pokes at a wound in Bruce when he is told about the Drakes and he has always been productive in tragedy. He knows how to shove the hurt away and build something strong on top of it.

The adoption was seamless. The sell of the Drake Estate was effortless. The trust for Tim. The memorial. The scholarships in Jack and Janet’s names. Bruce does it all methodical and singleminded.

And somewhere. Somehow. They forget to tell Tim.

Sometimes he misses his mom and dad. He misses his old room and being alone in a big house, but months turn to years and he likes it here. He really does. He has brothers here and Alfred, and they say they’re his family. He likes that.

They said they wanted to keep him, so they kept him. Kept him forever.

Then Damian is there.

Tim comes home and there’s a new boy, about the age he was when they got him. Tim asks in a whisper, “Did they take you too?”

[hellion-child]

loverboy: get up i ran u a bath

me: ?? its 10:30??

him: yeah u said u should have a bath

me: yeah like...three hours ago?

him: yeah. get in the tub.

[pickingupspacetrash]

[bread-cookies-bakery]

*hugs*

*Bread smiled.*

[kawaiianimeredhead]

My roommate and I baked cookies and made peppermint patties today and our kitchen has tile floor and no rugs or mats and to add space we used a folding table which was lower than the counter so I was bent down some while working and my feet hurt and so does my back but we made so many cookies

It was fun until the last moments we had to finish something and we were both very done

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[luveline]

hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)

Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock. 

“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says. 

“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?” 

“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.” 

You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful. 

He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?” 

Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV. 

You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask. 

Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!” 

“We said Saturday sleepover, right?” 

You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.” 

“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms. 

“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?” 

Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?” 

You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle. 

“What’s the album?” he asks. 

“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.” 

He stills. “They are?” 

“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?” 

“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.” 

You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on. 

His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through. 

“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.” 

You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.” 

He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly. 

“I know.” 

He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe. 

“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him. 

“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.” 

He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?” 

“You act like you’re nearing seventy.” 

“Oh, I do?” 

You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.” 

Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one. 

“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably. 

“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.” 

“Thank you for the cookie.” 

“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.” 

[mywritersmind]

girl i need something - comfort, fluff whatever about that race yesterday with lando, my heart needs somethingggg thank you <3

HOME SWEET - LN4

listen up : comfort!!!!!! thanks for the request i think we all needed this.

word count : 643

⋆｡‧˚⋆

As soon as I hear the dropping of bags by the front door, I jump up and run to him.

“Lan!” I scream. He catches me in his arms, my feet hovering over the floor as his arms go around my waist. His breath on my skin only excites me, his head resting on my chest as I mumble into his hair, “I missed you.”

He shakes his head, setting me down softly but not letting go, “You have no clue how happy I am to be back.” His hands go to my face, holding me as if I'm about to run away.

I take his hand from my face, smiling up at him. This whole weekend has been hell. I watched his every move on TV, had every alert on for his texts, and sat in my bed on the phone with him as he vented.

I take him to the couch, he lays down and I promptly climb next to him, nestling close to my boyfriend. His eyes are closed when I run my hand up and down his arm.

“Wanna talk about it?” It. It as is every death threat, comment, or video that’s been sent to him. It as in the media. It as in the race.

“No. I want to talk about you.” He turns to me slightly, kissing my head as his hand runs through my hair, “Weren’t too worried?”

I scoff, “You know me. I’m always worried.” This looks like it hurt him. His face morphs into a frown, “But I'm proud of you. And I definitely wasn’t screaming and running around the apartment so if we receive a noise complaint, it’s all a lie.”

He finally cracks a smile, “I love you.” he whispers as I press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet.

“You’re everything to me.” I whisper back, even though it’s just the two of us, “I just hate seeing you sad.”

He breathes out, “I’m never sad with you.” He pouts a bit, not meeting my eyes and playing with my hair. I sigh because I know that’s not true, but my job isn’t to bring him down more.

I push my face into his hoodie, he smells like cologne and the airport, “I made you cookies.”

I can practically hear the smile in his voice, “So that’s what that smell is.” I giggle, standing up as he follows.

We stand in the kitchen with a shared glass of milk and twenty mini cookies, “No offense love… but this is the best thing you’ve ever made.” I laugh, trying not to choke on the chocolate in my mouth.

“I’m not that bad of a cook!” I slap his chest teasingly even though I know I am.

He gives me a little smirk, shoving another cookie into his mouth as I scoff, “You said you love my pasta!”

He’s laughing with me now, “Yeah- the buttered noodles!” I roll my eyes, attempting to walk away before he corners me.

He’s smiling still, it makes me smile. Lando’s hands on my hips hold me still. “I love you.” he presses a kiss onto my neck, “And your cookies. And your pasta. And your shit food.” I'm giggling as he covers me in kisses.

I try to move back but am intercepted by he countertop, he’s tickling me and knowingly making me laugh and squirm. He slows down, meeting my eyes.

“I love you too.” I say, my hands on his arms, “You and your pickiness.” He scoffs then, laughing and leaning in to kiss my lips.

He’s warm and comforting, just like my magical cookies that seemed to heal him. When his lips leave mine, his head drops to my shoulder; his curls brushing against my neck as he leaves a soft kiss onto my shoulder.