#i put an egg yolk on top but it rolled down the sides and it blew up when i tried to reposition it 😔✊️

[vividbeast]

beef rice bowl!! (link here!)

[pasukiyo]

𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 | bradley "rooster" bradshaw

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader 1,920 words warnings; smut and fluff<3 summary; nothing about your life feels real anymore. but it's all real. the wedding, the hotel room, the bed, the sex, bradley-- they're all real. everything feels straight from the movies, the stories, the songs.

 “Mornin’, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

 She was awoken by Bradley’s full weight on top of her, his lips peppering soft kisses all over her face, his mustache prickling her skin. She groaned, sleepiness weighing heavy on her eyelids as she pawed at his face with her palms, trying to push him away. 

 “Bradley,” she groaned, unable to stifle her laugh when he playfully nibbled on her cheek. “It’s so early!” She whined, squinting her eyes at the window as the morning sun cracked like an egg yolk to spill into the hotel room. Bradley rolled his eyes at this, “it’s only like…” he paused to lean over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, tapping his phone screen repeatedly until it finally lit up, “…seven in the morning.”

 She groaned and threw her head back into the pillow as Bradley caressed the side of her neck with one hand, tangling his fingers of the other in her hair. She pressed her lips together in a scowl as he kissed down her face, giving her jaw playful nibbles. 

 “Couldn’t even sleep in the morning after my wedding,” she grumbled, Bradley’s smile a crescent against her flesh. 

 “Sorry baby, you signed up for this the moment I put a ring on it,” he chuckled, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against her chin. “I dreamt about you last night though,” he murmured against the underside of her jaw as his kisses trailed down to her neck, her body quaking with each sloppy kiss he pressed into her skin. “Is that right?” She asked, her voice riddled with sleep. “Mhmm,” he hummed against her collarbone, pinching her flesh between his teeth. She emitted a quiet whimper at this, her back arching off of the mattress so that her chest heaved into his. “Dreamt about us like, sixty years in the future when we’re all old and gray and have a bunch of grandchildren crawling around under our feet.”

 She raised an eyebrow at this and peeled an eyelid open, peering down at him as he littered kisses across her throat to the other side of her neck. “Jesus, Bradley, we literally got married yesterday and you’re already thinking that far ahead?” She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, releasing a soft moan when he gently bit down into her skin, leaving a small, dark mark just above her collarbone. 

 “Can’t help it,” he murmured, his kisses trailing back up her neck to her chin and all the way back to her lips, his mustache tickling just below her nose. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you,” he whispered against her lips before they were on hers, taking her breath away with a slow, passionate kiss that made her toes curl and heart pound against her chest. 

 She moaned into his mouth when he shifted his hips, suddenly aware of how naked they were beneath the covers. Once again, his kisses trailed down her chin to her neck, moving his body down the bed as his lips worked at the skin just above her breasts, his palms soothing over her waist and to her hips. She squeezed her eyelids closed as his kisses ventured lower until they reached her breasts, whimpering when he gathered one of her erect nipples in his mouth. 

 “Bradley,” she mewled when he let go of her breast with a wet pop, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he kissed his way to the other, giving her peaked bud a few featherlight, teasing kisses. “Quit teasing,” she whimpered, a pout tugging at her bottom lip as her fingers wove through his short brown hair, giving his roots a pull. 

 His smile curved around her breast and he pulled away from her chest altogether, pushing up onto the palms of his hands to hover just above her face, his breath a warm fan over her skin. “But you’re just so cute,” he whispered, kissing just below her eye. “And now you’re all mine.”

 She hissed through her teeth when he ground his hips down into hers, feeling the leaking tip of his cock prod against her clit, her eyelids fluttering closed. “I’ve…” she began, breathless as the head of his erection trailed down her slit, pressing against her entrance. “…fuck,” she muttered. “I’ve always been yours,” she managed to breathe out when he slipped himself inside, the tip just barely pushing in before she was crying out, cradling the back of his neck with one hand, gripping his bicep with the other. 

 “Yeah,” Bradley sighed, burying his face into the crook of her neck as he pushed himself further in until he was fully sheathed inside of her cunt, his head pounding with how tight and warm she was. “But it’s official now. You’re stuck with me forever.”

 She managed to chuckle, biting back a moan when he began to move, wrapping her legs around his waist so that her heels could dig into the small of his back. Bradley’s mustache pricked her skin as his kisses ventured up her neck, over the curve of her chin, all the way to her lips. 

 He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips, pressing his elbows into the mattress on either side of her head and cradling her face, brushing back loose strands of hair behind her ears. “Look at me,” he whispered, the pads of his thumbs swiping over her closed eyelids. 

 She whimpered when the head of his cock prodded her cervix, her vision hazy with tears when she let her kids flutter open. Bradley was there to collect the droplets of tears that managed to escape her sockets, and as she blinked the blurriness from her vision, she could make out warm, hickory eyes gazing down at her, consumed with tranquility, lust, love. 

 God, Bradley didn’t even need to say it, just his eyes alone were enough to assure her that he was absolutely in love. With only a mere glance or brief touch upon her skin, he was able to convey a million thoughts, a million words, a million feelings. She felt loved even when they were apart— he was so good at turning the little things into his own love language. 

 So feeling him like this, having him fucking her so deep and having him so close to her was so intense, made her feel like she was drowning in his love. How could she have gotten so lucky? He was like a man straight out from the movies, the stories, the songs. 

 “I love you,” Bradley murmured when their eyes surged into one another’s. “Gonna show you off to the whole world. Do you know what I’m most excited for?”

 She whimpered again, feeling herself clench around him as he continued his slow and steady space inside of her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone as my wife,” he chuckled against the corner of her lips. “Can’t wait to take you to a restaurant, just so I can say ‘yes, I’d like a table for me and my wife here.’” 

 Her chest heaved with a laugh, even through her early morning fucked-out haze, even with Bradley’s cock pressing bruises into her cervix. “You’re silly,” she giggled as he kissed the tip of her nose. “My husband is the silliest.”

 He beamed at the name, “husband. That’s right, I’m your husband,” he murmured against her lips, his hips quickening their pace but still, his cock reached just as deep. She could feel the knot begin to tighten at the pit of her belly and she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her eyes wet with her approaching orgasm. 

 “Gonna take care of you,” he muttered, dropping his forehead down onto hers, using his elbows against the mattress as leverage to fuck her harder, impossibly deeper. “Gonna take care of my wife.”

 Tears fell in streams down the sides of her face as she clenched, opening and closing her mouth to try and tell him that she was so close. Nothing was coming out, she couldn’t speak. All that could emit were meek little whimpers and incoherent babbles, but Bradley soothed back her hair, pecking her lips. 

 “It’s alright, darlin’. You can let go for me. Come for me, baby.”

 Bradley cooed sweet little nothings against her lips as he pounded her further into the mattress with just a few more toe-curling thrusts, her lips falling agape as her back arched off of the bed, nails etching crescents into his shoulders. She could feel him release his spend inside of her just as she, too, let herself go, muffling her sobs in the curve of his shoulder. Her body quaked from the force of her orgasm, and how lucky she was that Bradley was there to catch her, to lull her back to reality, to ease her down from her high. She came so hard, so lost in pleasure that she almost couldn’t breathe. 

 “Shh, shh. I’ve got you, baby,” Bradley murmured against her lips before enveloping them with his in a kiss, wiggling his arms beneath her to wrap up her body and hold it close to his. She panted and her cheeks were swollen with the sticky remnants of tears, but Bradley was there to kiss every single salty droplet away from her skin. “So beautiful,” he whispered, cradling her head and holding it close to his chest. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

 Her lips curved into a weak smile, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. “Always take such good care of me,” she murmured into his skin. “I’m the luckiest wife in the world.”

 Bradley beamed down at her, peppering her face with a few playful kisses before forcing his body off of hers, leaning down to press his lips against the crown of her head. “I’m gonna start the shower,” he muttered beside her ear. “Come join me when you’re ready.” 

 He gave her hand a squeeze, their eyes locked on one another as he pulled away, disappearing into the hotel room’s bathroom. She laid there for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling above, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this wasn’t just a dream. 

 Bradley was real. This hotel room was real. This bed was real. The sex was real. The wedding ring on her left ring finger was real. It was all real. This was her reality now. 

 She turned her head towards her bedside table where a small, brown leather book rested, a pen lying on the top. With as much strength as she could muster, she reached for the book and pulled herself up into a sitting position, letting her back fall against the headboard. From the bathroom, she could hear the sound of rushing water begin to fall as Bradley turned the shower handle, humming a soft tune that vibrated the walls. 

 She peeled open the cover of the book and flipped through the pages until she found an empty one, projecting her thoughts onto the page and transforming them into lyrics, song lyrics. 

 “Hey,” Bradley called from the doorway a few moments later, eyeing between her and the book in her lap. “Are you coming?” He asked with a pout, and she breathed a laugh, nodding as she finished the word she had been writing, slamming the book shut and setting it back on its place on the nightstand. “Yeah.”

a/n; I FINALLY POSTED FOR BRADLEY AGAIN pls this man has literally taken over me, it's shocking i haven't written more for him yet lol anyways this hardly had any plot but i still hope you all enjoyed<3

TAGLIST;

@oliviajdjarin 🤍💞🤍💗🤍✨

[bakingtherapy]

Just Keep Baking #5 German Apple Cake

Sul Sul, Gerbits. Today we are going to be making an apple cake from Germany. This is by far the most unique apple cake that I have made as of yet. The cake itself tastes almost of an apple strudel. 

This recipe is very different from other recipes, because it comes from a German Cookbook, and it has some ingredients that I had to go search on how to make, or what to substitute it with. 

The recipe will be in the description down below. 

You will need three different sets of ingredients. One for the pastry, one for the filling, and one for the brushing. 

For the Pasty you need:

flour

baking powder

sugar

vanilla sugar; for this I just put some white sugar into a bowl and added a little vanilla extract.

You are also going to need

1 egg white,

½ of an egg yolk; yes! Half of an egg yolk

Milk or water

butter, a lot of butter, or margarine.

For the Filling you need:

Apples

sugar

raisins

the recipe calls for “a few drops of Oetker rum flavor” and I just substituted vanilla extract. 

For the brushing you need:

the other ½ of the egg yolk

milk.

Now according to the recipe, you are going to “preheat for 5 minutes at VERY HOT, and you are going to bake it at moderately hot.” Not anywhere on the recipe does it have temperatures. Which was kinda hard to figure out. So, I had to do a little bit of a search and figure out if someone knew what temperature “very hot” is and google said it was about “375 degrees fahrenheit.”

You are going to want a clear spot to work. This recipe gets really messy. But it tastes really good.

The first thing you are going to do is put together the pastry. 

On a pastry board you are going to sieve the flour and the baking powder. Yeah, this recipe doesn’t have you put the pastry into a bowl. It’s just like, put it directly on your pastry board. If you don’t have a pastry board. You can use a cutting board and parchment paper. 

Now we are going to make a well in the center and carefully pour in the sugar, vanilla sugar, the egg whites, the ½ egg yolk and the liquid. Be careful of putting everything in the well at the same time. You may have a mess on your hands like I did. I will admit, I was worried about this recipe. Because I have never seen a recipe like this, and it kinda scared me. 

The ingredients need to be mixed until a smooth paste with flour drawn in from the sides of the well.

Cut the butter or margarine into small pieces, on top of the paste, cover with more flour and work from the center knead all of the ingredients together into a smooth pastry. 

Add more flour if the dough is sticky.

Divide the pastry into two, and roll out one half to the size of a baking sheet, which is about 12 by 16 inches. 

Trim it with a pastry wheel and set on one side. This is the top of the cake.

Roll out the other piece of the pastry to a size 2 inches larger all round than the baking sheet. 

Cover the greased baking sheet with this larger layer; so that it comes up on the sides of the sheet to form a rim. 

The easiest way to do this is to roll the pastry onto the rolling pin and then unroll it onto the baking sheet. 

Now that we have the pastry ready for us to use, we are going to be making the filling. 

If desired, you can peel the apples, and then you will have to core the apples, slice them and stew them slowly with 2 oz or a ¼ cup of sugar and the washed and drained raisins or currants, stirring all the time. Because you don’t want them to burn or caramelize. 

Season to taste with more sugar and add the flavoring, which in our case is the vanilla. 

Leave it to cool. 

Spread the cold filing onto the layer of the pastry on the baking sheet. 

Brush the edge of the pastry with the egg. 

Put the second layer of pastry onto the filling, brush with the egg yolk, mixed with milk and prick it with a fork. 

Place the baking sheet fairly high in the oven.

Bake for 20 to 30 minutes at 375 degrees Farenheight.

And then wait for it to cool a little bit before serving.

This recipe was very intimidating for me. But I feel like I accomplished it. When I brought it out of the kitchen, it wasn’t sent back in. So that is a positive. I love doing these apple recipes from around the world, it is very interesting to see the differences in apple recipes. 

I hope that you are enjoying these apple recipes. Don’t worry for those of you who don’t like apples, the next recipe that I am going to do is not an apple recipe. Feel free to check the description down below for the recipe. Vadish, Dag Dag. 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Robby's Cookbook Collection

Printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Feel free to support me on:

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[second-axis-point]

Joel’s husband taking the reigns for the first time in a while but a nice twist. The reader and Joel are on a nice day out, spending some time together in the little town, and it’s full of hand holding, kissing, food, and Joel being taken care of for a change. The reader takes Joel into their room in Jackson. His husband wears a cowboy hat Joel adores and rides Joel. When I tell you RIDES, and then after, Joel gets to ride his husband but his husband is still in “control”, gripping Joel’s ass and making him feel good. And for aftercare, just Joel and his husband in the shower together, sitting on the shower floor, Joel leaning into his husband. Kisses are shared and Joel’s husband says how much he loves Joel.

I promise you I don’t have a controlling kink, I just wanna take care of Joel while driving him cock crazy

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: 18+ please

Content: Fluff, Smut, Aftercare, More Fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

HUSBAND JOEL FOR THE WIN! This one is going to be way longer than usual just because there's so much detail, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Thank you so much for being specific and for the request! 💙

A Day Off

You slowly came back to consciousness, back aching and neck cracking uncomfortably. You roll onto your back and reach over to the other side of the bed. Your hand meets Joel's warm back. He was still fast asleep. You lean in to place a light kiss on his spine before sitting up and getting out of bed. You trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shave. You get dressed in your usual flannel and jeans and walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. The sky was still dark so you decided to make breakfast since you were already there.

You start with making coffee, throwing the empty bag away with a huff. You made a mental note to remind yourself to get more. You grab the pack of bacon from the back of the fridge and a few eggs from the top shelf. It still amazes you how life in Jackson was almost as it was before the outbreak. You grab your slightly dented skillet and an old frying pan and set it on top of the oven. You light the stove and tear open the pack of fresh bacon. You toss it in the pan and let it cook while you crack the eggs and whisk the yolks.

As you took the bacon from the skillet you noticed that the sun was just starting to come up. Joel would be up soon. You place the dirty skillet to the side and bring the frying pan into flame. You butter the pan and start on the scrambled eggs. As you finished with them you noted the smell of coffee in the air and the shuffle you heard coming from the bedroom. Joel was up. You grabbed mugs and plates and set them out on the counter. When you moved back to the kitchen to grab the rest of the food, you heard Joel pad behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his face into your neck.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You say as you offer a piece of bacon to the man wrapped around you. He took it from your hand like a dog before releasing you and grabbing the mugs. You put bacon and eggs on both plates and walked to the table. Joel walked in a second later with the mugs of coffee and sat down next to you. The two of you ate and talked about what you might be assigned today before Tommy shoved open the front door and walked into the house.

“Thanks for knockin’”

You joke. He gives you a grin and reaches for a piece of bacon on Joel's plate. Joel swats his hand away before he could get some. You point to the kitchen and watch as Tommy jogs out of sight, presumingly stealing the rest of your breakfast.

“What are you doin’ here besides raiding our kitchen?”

You ask over your shoulder. Tommy walks back in and puts a hand on Joel’s shoulder as he stuffs his face with the rest of the bacon.

“I came here to tell you two lovebirds have the day off. Ellies spending the day with Maria so you have the day to yourselves.”

You look at Joel with surprise. Tommy stays for a few minutes but eventually turns to leave. You wave and get up to grab your and Joel’s plate while he grabs the empty mugs. The two of you wash up together and Joel goes back to the bedroom to get dressed himself. You grab your jackets and hand one to him before you walk out into the crisp early morning air. Joel’s hand slips into yours as you walk down the street.

“So what’s first darlin’?”

You ask, your breath visible in the wind. He looked around before settling on one of the shops just across the road. You follow his gaze and tug him across the street. You hadn’t been settled in Jackson for long so all the little stores were new to you and Joel. You walk in to see a bunch of little trinkets and toys lined up on the shelves. You were looking for something that Ellie would like when Joel came up with two hats in hand. He put one on your head and the other on his. You laughed at the goofy smile that he had on his face before grabbing a rocket ship toy off the shelf and walking to the shopkeeper. 

You paid for the hats and toy and walked back out onto the street. Joel once again put his hand in yours while you continued down the street. Joel stopped and stepped in front of you, grabbing both of your hands and kissing you on the forehead. Your hats shift sideways, making you laugh. Joel pays no mind and continues peppering your face. He kisses your nose, then both of your cheeks, then your chin, and finally you lips. With practised ease you kiss back, moving your hands to rest on the sides of his face. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours.

“What’s next?”

The two of you spent the next few hours wandering around Jackson, looking at the livestock looking in the shops before ending up in the bar. You sit next to each other and wait to ask for drinks, you and Joel’s intertwined hands resting on your knee. You slip into comfortable conversation in the midst of the crowded bar. It was only about midday but the building was surprisingly packed. You order and enjoy your drinks, still idly chatting with your husband.

You leave the bar and start heading back to your shared house. Joel had filled the quiet moments with compliments and kisses. It was the most you’ve had in a while. You got to the house, taking off your jacket and hanging it back up. You watch Joel do the same before he locks the front door. You look at him curiously. His chocolate eyes had a darker tint to them. You knew what he was thinking before he even said anything. You give him a wicked grin and step closer. You put your hands on his chest and lean in close. You reach a hand up to take off your hat but Joel stops you.

“The hats stay on for now.”

He told you, moving your hand to his shoulder. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in. Your lips meet and your whole body heats up. Joel grabs at your hips but before things could progress any further, you pull away and start to push him towards the bedroom. You shove Joel onto the bed and close the door. He scoots back to the headboard, sitting himself up against it, and watches you crawl up the bed and into his lap.

He puts his hands on your waist and you move yours up from his shoulders to the sides of his face. You lean in again and kiss him with passion, accidentally knocking off both of your hats. Neither of you pay any attention, too caught up in eachother. He licks the bottom of your lip, asking for permission. You groan as you open your mouth and allow his tongue to explore. You start to fight for dominance but allow Joel to win. You slowly grind your hips and Joel’s grip tightens. He moans but stops you from moving. He pulls away and starts to unbutton your flannel. You help him by just pulling it over your head, his hands wandering over your exposed skin. You quickly unbutton your jeans and kick them off awkwardly along with your socks. Joel does the same, leaving the both of you in just your tented boxers. You sat back in his lap and ran your hands over his chest.

“You wanna keep goin’?”

You ask Joel just in case. He nods frantically and you reach into the bedside drawer for the lube. You slick your fingers and reach behind you, sliping your digits in and out of your ass. Your head drops down and your breath hitches. Joel watches you prepare yourself as he palms himself through his boxers. You groan as you pull your hand away and yank down Joel’s underwear. You start kissing down his torso, nipping at the skin every now and then, until you reach his throbbing dick. Joel tosses his head back when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He lets out an obscene moan when you take him fully into your mouth. You start bobbing your head, swirling your tongue around the tip with every pass.

Joel tries to buck up into your mouth but you pin his hips to the bed. He tries to say something but it's mostly incoherent babble. You loved when Joel got like this. Squirming and moaning under your touch. You pull off and take him in your hand, slicking the rest of his cock before moving back up and align yourself with him. You take it slow, making sure you don’t hurt yourself. You fully seat yourself in his lap and bury your head into his neck. You hug your arms around his shoulders and wait for yourself to adjust to him. 

Joel doesn't force you to move, letting you take it at your own pace, but you do feel him getting antsy after a few moments. You suddenly roll your hips causing Joel to gasp. His grip moves from your thighs back to your hips. Joel snaps his hips and you moan. He apologises but you cut him off by raising up off of his cock almost completely and dropping back down.

You start at a slow rhythm. Joel moans into your ear and you feel your climax building. You reach one hand down to start jerking yourself off but he grabs your wrist. You drone in disappointment and release yourself. Joel doesn't give you time to complain before he wraps his own fingers around you, stroking in time with your rhythm. You feel your release build more and more as you ride him. You cry out to warn Joel.

“Joel, I'm so-close. Please-”

Joel stills his hand and stops your hips. He pulls out and you whimper as your orgasm slips away.

“Hold on, hold on baby, I want to try something different.”

You lean back to look at him, his cheeks are flushed and he looks sort of embarrassed. You follow his lead as he flips the two of you. You rested back against the headboard while he sat in your lap. Oh.

“You sure?”

He nods and reaches for the lube. You watch as he stretches himself just as you did before. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed. He didn’t quite meet your eyes, too shy to look at you. You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. You lean closer to kiss him. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and whines when you pull away.

“You think you're ready?”

You ask him before he pulls his hand back and nods. He slicks your cock with the excess lube on his hand and lines himself with your tip. He pushes in and stops. He squints his eyes as he adjusts. You put your hands on his thighs, reassuring him.

“It’s okay sweetheart, take your time.”

He takes a breath and continues until you are fully sheathed inside him. He was quicker to adjust than you were. He only raises up about half way before coming back down, setting a slow and shallow pace. He puts a hand on your chest to stabilise himself. His lazy rhythm was driving you insane. You grab onto him and scoot further down the bed. You hold him up a bit before you start thrusting into him. Joel moans, low and deep in his throat. His nails dig into your chest as you relentlessly drive into him. You moved a hand from his ass to his neglected cock and jerk in time with your thrusts. Joel’s moans get louder and he starts meeting you halfway. He rises and pushes back down, forcing you deeper inside him.

You feel your climax building once again. White hot heat rising in your stomach. The sight of Joel with his eyes half lidded and his mouth half agape could’ve made you cum right then and there. But you hold back, wanting Joel to finish first. By the look of him, you knew you wouldn’t have to hold out much longer. His whimpers were becoming more high pitched and his bounces became a bit sloppy. It only took a few more thrust for Joel to still his hips and throw his head back.

He came onto your hand and chest and clenched around you, causing you to cum as well. You felt the hot liquid around your cock as you filled Joel. He whimpered and slumped forward but you barely noticed, too preoccupied with your own climax. Once you came back down you wrapped your arms around him. Joel whined as you carefully pulled out. You shushed him and rubbed his back, waiting for him to come around as well.

“Holy shit.”

You hear Joel mumble into the crook of your neck. You smile and sit up.

“How was it?”

You ask him genuinely. Joel’s face was flushed and he had a slight sheen on his forehead.

“Amazing.”

He answered simply.

“We should probably shower before any of this dries.”

He motions down to your stomach. You nod and move to the end of your bed. You surprise Joel by moving your hands under his thighs and carrying him to the bathroom. He clings to you before you let him stand just outside. Thank god your shower could fit two people. You warmed up the water and signalled for Joel to get in. You washed the night's activities off of you and Joel did the same. He sat down on the tiled floor, his legs a bit too wobbly to stand for long periods of time. You sat down next to him and leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“You’re the best husband a man could ask for, you know that?”

You said simply. Joel picked his head up to look at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. You smile at him and he leans in again. Only this time the kiss wasn’t heated. It was filled with love. You were so happy that you had him. Joel was happy that he had you. The two of you towelled off and got dressed before you made dinner together.

[calmdownandcook]

Upside Down Cakes

This is the cake that decorates itself

Pineapple? Yep! Blueberries? Got it! What about rhubarb? This is the cake that decorates itself and goes with the flow as far as seasons are concerned. Look to the upside-down cake when you have some glorious fruit but not enough to make a pie. The cake is basically a dense pound cake base and the fruit is whatever calls to you. Old-school pineapple is always nice, fresh, or canned. You could even be hardcore retro and put a maraschino cherry in the middle of the pineapple rings, but let's take a moment and see what happens when you step out of the box and use whatever fruit you want. To begin, choose your fruit. You could even select 2 or 3 fruits. The size and style of your fruit will be determined by how soft or firm you want it to be in the end. The larger the piece, the firmer the bite. Berries will almost always cook down to a jam but should retain their shape. There are no rules to this except for “whatever you want”. For example, I will peel apples or pears but prefer not to peel peaches (it's a pain in the butt). I like to cut the apples, pears, and peaches into 8 wedges because they can be fanned out and I think it's pretty. You can also cut them into 1-inch chunks and form patterns - or just dump them in the bottom and spread them evenly. Frozen cherries are a nice and easy choice but they have to be totally defrosted and patted dry. Cranberries are “holiday-ish” and look so pretty; the only effort is sprinkling them in the bottom of the pan with the sugar. Remember, if you use cranberries, like any tart fruit,  you should increase the sugar you sprinkle under the fruit from 1/4 cup to ½  cup. Take your imagination further by swapping up to ¼ cup of your fruit measurement for any nuts. Walnuts or almonds are nice with almost anything. You can even add in chopped candied Ginger. This is also very nice around the holidays. Embrace your love of citrus all year round by using oranges or lemons. If you slice them paper thin you don’t have to peel them. The peels will “candy” in the sugar sprinkled on the bottom.

Let’s Make A Cake

The Fruit (the bottom and then the top of your cake)

2 cups of fruit (whatever you choose), 

3 tablespoons melted butter,

1/4  cup sugar (increase to ½  if you are using rhubarb, cranberry, or lemons, yes, lemons)

The Cake

1 cup unsalted butter - softened

2 cups granulated sugar

3 large room-temperature whole eggs

3 large room-temperature egg yolks

1 Tablespoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon salt

2  cups all-purpose flour

Instructions

Preheat your oven to 350F (175C) 

For the fruit part, generously grease (with shortening or spray) a 10-inch springform pan. Cut out a circular piece of parchment or foil to line the bottom of the baking pan. Place the parchment (or foil) in the pan. Pour the 3 tablespoons of melted butter onto the parchment, and roll around to distribute evenly. Then, sprinkle the ¼ cup of the sugar that goes with your fruit on top making sure to get it evenly distributed. This will end up on top of what you lined the pan with. (Parchment or aluminum foil). Take the fruit you chose and spread it across the bottom of your pan. You can toss it in half haphazardly, as long as you evenly distribute it across the bottom, or you can arrange it like a beautiful mosaic. Just try to keep the fruit in a single layer. 

Now for the base cake, the key is scraping down the bowl. Be meticulous and take your time when instructed to do so. Place your butter in a large bowl (this recipe makes a lot of batter)! I recommend using a stand mixer if you have one or an electric mixer, beat the butter until it is creamy, smooth, and lightened in color.

Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add the sugar. Beat until the ingredients are well combined, again, light and fluffy (about 2 minutes).

Combine your eggs and egg yolks in a separate, medium-sized bowl. Then add 1 tablespoon vanilla extract, and ½  teaspoon salt to your egg mixture. Use a fork or a whisk to lightly beat the eggs and yolks until all egg yolks are completely broken up and salt and vanilla are incorporated.

With the mixer on low speed, slowly pour the egg mixture into your batter, allowing it to gradually become incorporated. Once the egg mixture is incorporated, pause to scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl, then increase speed to medium-high and beat for another 2 minutes. Reduce mixer speed to low and gradually add flour to the batter, about ½  cup at a time until all flour has been added. When you no longer see dry flour, scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl and mix again on medium speed until the batter is a little fluffier, about another minute.

Spread batter evenly and lightly into the prepared pan over the fruit and use a spatula to gently smooth the surface of the batter. Try not to disturb the fruit. Wrap the outside of the pan in aluminum foil on the small chance there is any leaking juice. Transfer to a 350F oven and bake on the center rack for 80-90 minutes or until a wooden skewer inserted in the center of the thickest part of the cake comes out clean or ideally with a few moist crumbs. This is a long cooking time but it is a big dense cake with lots of fruit.

Allow the cake to cool for at least 30 minutes and then run a knife around the sides (do an excellent job of this so removal will be easy). Don’t let the cake cool any more than this because the sugar on the bottom will harden and will make removal very difficult. Flip on a plate but be wary, the melted sugar and butter you placed on the bottom of the pan will be freakishly hot. Remove the parchment or foil if it turns out with the cake. If any fruit remains stuck to the bottom of the pan, don’t let it break your heart, you can stick them back into the top of your cake and no one will be the wiser.

Make the cake you want.

Don’t let a recipe boss you around. Did you go to H Mart and buy a can of lychee nuts? This would work. Here’s a brief rundown of things to inspire you.

Any orchard fruit is nice and a good opportunity to make a design if sliced into wedges.

Berries are easy but remember to not make too thick of a layer they can lose their shape at the end of cooking.

Bananas work but can be brown and mushy (sorry, I banana-shamed). They are, however, delicious when paired with walnuts.

Rhubarb is one you’d want to increase the sugar that is initially sprinkled in the pan to ½  cup. Arrange in spokes to impress your friends with your artistic talent.

A fig, cut in half, and placed face down is one of the best you could hope for.

Apricots are tasty but often expensive, try canned ones. If the canned ones come in halves, slice them into wedges.

Avoid super watery fruits like any melon or something like a Kiwi. It will water down your cake batter and not necessarily taste good cooked.

Avocados and Tomatoes are fruit but don’t be a weirdo and try these.

A scoop of vanilla ice cream or whipped cream can cover up any craziness that has gone wrong in the fruit pattern. The cake part of this recipe is very straightforward and the fruit is where you get a chance to shine. There are, however, some fun things you can do with the cake batter to turn up the flavor by adding some simple things. Try adding one or two of these flavors during the final mix of the cake. You can add 1 teaspoon of Almond Extract or 1 tablespoon of lemon or orange zest. A splash (2 tablespoons) of rose water can be very exotic. For some spice, try adding 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, 1 teaspoon of ground ginger, and or ½ teaspoon of Cardamom (my favorite). 

Shake off the “pineapple” part of a Pineapple Upside Down Cake. You don’t need a ton of fruit and I hope you find this empowering. You are the decider, you are in control.

Mea culpa-

The first time I made this cake for the photo (blueberries and raspberries), I forgot to do the step where you sprinkle the sugar on the bottom of the pan. The cake was fine, maybe not as shiny and pretty, and definitely not as sweet. BUT it was fine. Not the end of the world. Anything you bake and get cake in the end is an achievement.

[randomwriteronline]

It’s not a particularly good day.

“You look like shit.”

Emmet looks down at Briosa’s dead stare: “You too,” he signs back.

The Substitute rolls her shoulders: “What’s your plight,” she demands to know without even asking.

He makes a face: “Back hurts.”

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue.

“Yours?”

“I need to crack my head open like an egg.”

The Subway Boss hums.

His hands are very slow as he signs, unsure if this is the right way to let her know he would like to help: “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Briosa squeaks out the most monotone single laugh he’s ever heard out of her: “I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you you again, you are too weak to cause me any sort of bodily harm. That said-” and taking off her hat she leans her head towards him in a completely serious offering.

After a moment or so, Emmet holds her temples gently, watching her face carefully to check if the contact is making her uncomfortable. Her expression is unchanged and she makes no move to get his hands off of her, so it's alright.

He grabs he nape and guides her to smack her forehead against the side of his other hand a few times, harder and harder until it kind of hurts him; at which point he carefully puts his fingertips where her head collided with his thumb and mimes the action of pulling it apart to let the yolk out. Briosa even makes a weird ‘bleh’ noise to better get the idea across.

She does smile her rectangular smile when he puts her back upright.

“I do love a good ol’ mimed gag,” she chuckles. “Now get on your knees.”

Emmet looks at her with blown eyes and a vague terror.

Mawile snickers loudly.

“Be not afraid.”

“I am verrry afraid.” he signs.

“Be not,” Briosa insists, “I just wanna help you with your back.”

A beat of stillness: “On my knees?” he repeats, still very flabbergasted.

“Yes.”

“For my back?”

“The top of my head reaches the bottom of your ribcage, I can’t do that much if you keep standing.”

He glances at the counter just above the door to the subway car: it’ll be a long while before a pair of challengers finally reach them, since even the ones in the lead are still at the thirteenth battle.

“For my back,” he signs again. Just to make sure.

She stares at him deadpan right in the pupils: "Either that or I knee your teeth in, ‘cause if you want to choke on something ‘m afraid I got nothing.”

Mawile wheezes.

Emmet takes a deep, deep breath to keep himself from crumpling into a paper ball from the embarassment and lowers himself to kneel on the car floor. Briosa noisily cracks her knuckles with a smile, and he turns even paler than usual.

“Be not afraid.”

“I will be!”

“Well, stop being that!”

The way she clamps his shoulders in the grip of a non-rigged claw machine does not help putting him at ease; neither does the feeling of her knee lining up the side of his spine next to his shoulder blade. He looks at the small yellow and black Fairy snickering away on the plastic seats: she immediately recognizes the terror radiating from his gaze and grabs her aidee’s attention as she signs his quiet urgent question: You sure is safe?

Briosa gently squeezes the Subway Boss in her hold: “It is,” she reassures him, “Now hold on and let me do what I have to do.”

The knee slides down his back harsh yet so quick he barely has the time to percieve it beyond the sound of his bones creaking in place and sudden stiffness that pulls one of his shoulders back. Not even the chance to properly realize what’s happened and the same happens on the other side of his spine.

Huh.

It really does help.

Small hands clap him between their palms.

“Better?”

He nods.

Briosa’s head peeks into his vision upside down. Her braids frame the air as gravity pulls them towards his knees.

“See?” she grins, increasing the menace in her expression between the rows of teeth pulling away her thin lips, her narrowed eyes, and the out of place saccharine timbre of her voice: “No need to be scared.”

“I think I will still be verrry afraid of you,” Emmet replies slowly.

She laughs once she’s done reading his lips: “Fair.”

[geminiamethyst]

Skyline Gang. Chapter 25

Prologue: click HERE

Chapter 24: click HERE

Chapter 26: click HERE

The next morning, Dude struggled getting up. It wasn’t because he was drained from the night before. It was because he physically and almost literally couldn’t get out of bed. Rainbow had shifted during the night. Instead of sleeping with only his head on Dude’s stomach, his whole body was draped over Dude’s legs. He did try to slip out from under Rainbow, but the dog was too heavy to do that without disturbing him. In the end, Dude had to gently wake him up. Rainbow protested a little, but he eventually got up at last. Dude hurried to have a shower and go down to get breakfast. He was usually an early riser, mostly out of routine he had back home. So Rainbow refusing to get up made him feel like he was slacking a little. Not a huge deal, it just made him a little unhappy.

Breakfast was uneventful for the most part. Sprout was coming up with new jokes, getting a few laughs out of everyone. He couldn’t have been more excited to show his dad what he can do once he gets back to the circus. Pip was trying to write some music for when she got home. It was a bit awkward since she tried to do her task while eating eggs and bacon. She even nearly spilled yolk on her notebook by accident once or twice. Bud had changed his look a little. Instead of the white shirt, he swapped it out for a white button up. He was also wearing a red bow tie. Both of these, along with copies of them, he had found in his wardrobe. It was something that he felt more confident with wearing and he quite liked standing out a little bit more compared to the others. No one minded. As long as Bud was happy, that’s all that mattered. He was more open about his smarts. He was even tinkering with a small robot since he finished eating first.

After breakfast Dude volunteered to get the dishes done. He didn’t know why but he felt the need to be alone for a short while. Maybe it was because he hadn’t done a challenge yet and he felt out of place? Well, at least Rainbow stuck by him. Dude was busying himself with loading up the dishwasher. He wanted to take his mind off of things while he can. Dwelling on things won’t help, and making the others worry will make things worse. Dude was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t realise that someone was coming in with their plate until he spotted yellow out of the corner of his eye.

“How are you doing?” Mimi suddenly asked, placing her plate on the countertop. That was all the dishes then.

“What do you mean?” Dude asked back. Mimi rolled her eyes at this. She needed to try to get Dude to say something like when he was close to the night before.

“Last night…” she hissed. Dude froze for a moment. His hand trembled, threatening to drop the plate he was holding. Contemplating, he processed the nightmare again. He shut his eyes, picturing it perfectly. Skin crawling memories made his heart skip a beat. It may have been seconds, but to him it felt like days until he could speak again. However, he can’t bring himself to say anything. He can’t bring on this unnecessary worry and he needed to try to focus.

“I told you not to worry.” Dude frowned, slipping the plate in the dishwasher and snatched up Mimi’s.

“Dude, please.” Mimi begged, rubbing Dude’s back. It made him stop his movements again for a minute. Rainbow snapped him out of it by nuzzling his side.

“I promise, I’m okay.” Dude sighed, reaching up to grab the dishwasher handle. It was brought down softly. “I just had a scare but it’s nothing serious.”

Mimi almost had the urge to scream at Dude. Just to tell him to be honest with her and/or the others for once. They all knew by now that he was putting up a front. He needs to let his defences down for once. If he keeps bottling it all up, then it could be dangerous. However, instead of blowing her top off, Mimi took a deep breath. She thought of an idea. Time to change the conversation. It might help with getting Dude to say something. Just be discreet enough to make him think that she has dropped the subject for the time being.

“How’s your shoulder?” Mimi asked.

“Pardon?” Dude responded, eyes wide in surprise. That caught him off guard.

“Where that bruise was.” Mimi said, pointing at Dude’s shoulder. She remembered how he flinched when she hit it playfully a few days ago. It should be fine by now.

“Oh, that. It’s healed up okay.” Dude grinned a little, pulling up his sleeve. The bruise was now a fading back mark, and looked a lot less painful. Mimi reached up, but before she could take a closer look, Dude covered it up and set the dishwasher to run. He swiftly moved out of the kitchen, still grinning a little. But was it fake or sincere? He was probably catching on. Drop the subject until another time. Preferably before the next challenge. Rainbow sensed Mimi’s distress. He whimpered a little, nudging her hand.

“Yeah, I’m worried too, boy.” She sighed, rubbing Rainbow behind his ears. He craned his neck a little, turning his head to the side. Mimi had an affectionate smile brought out of her. Give Dude some time. Maybe he’ll open up then.

He’s got to.

———————————————————————————

A couple of hours have passed now. And nothing had happened.

No one went to go exploring. They had seen everything they could. PiP had stopped playing arcade games, giving up on trying to beat Bud’s high scores. Sprout ran out of ideas for jokes. Even Mimi gave up on looking in the shops. They checked the rides a couple of times outside, but nothing had changed. They just ended up sitting at one of the tables, waiting. Dawn hadn’t even showed up to taunt them or set up a challenge. There wasn’t so much as a speck of darkness or cold that followed the woman. It was almost like she had disappeared. She could’ve given up, or she just got bored. Either way, she hadn’t shown any trace of herself at all.

“When is she going to set a challenge?” Pip groaned, head on the table. “After setting two yesterday, you’d think she might have set up one by now.”

“Maybe she’s giving us a break?” Candi asked, unconvinced herself. No one answered that. They couldn’t. Dawn was being unpredictable right now. Who knows what she’s up to right now?

“How are you holding up Dude?” Sprout asked. Mimi shot him a look, but made sure that Dude didn’t see it.

“What do you mean?” Dude asked. Everyone else had looked up at him by now. All eyes were on him.

“You’re the last one to face a challenge.” Bud observed. Dude immediately looked away. Shame filled up inside him. He couldn’t say anything or make any gestures to get the attention off of him.

“Th-they’re not that bad, Dude. Sure I freaked out a little, but-” Candi stuttered, trying to bring the tension down.

“I’m fine.” Dude muttered, crossing his arms. Shut it all out. Don’t let them see that this was getting to him. Keep it together.

“You’re denying it.” Bud stated.

“I’m sorry?” Dude asked in surprise, finally looking at everyone.

“You’re denying the fact that you’re worried.” Bud explained. Dude started to tense up a little.

“I’m not worried! I said I’m fine!” His voice rose a little.

“And you’re snapping at us too.” Bud stated again.

“Bud, I don’t think you’re helping.” Pip hissed, nudging Bud with her elbow. Dude opted to look away from the group again. Shut them out. Shut them out! Just keep it together and stay quiet.

“Dude, I hate to say it, but we’re all a team.” Pip said, tensing up herself. “And you’re not being much of a team player right now.”

It was like something snapped inside Dude.

Team?

Was he really part of a team?

How can he be? Everyone around him was different now. He was the odd one out.

And then he remembered what Coach had said to him when he was kicked off the team. That he had a problem with teamwork.

“I don’t have a problem with teamwork.” He almost growled through gritted teeth. His whole body was tense. His hands were clenching so hard that his fingernails were imbedding into his skin. His teeth were grinding. Eyes were narrow and carried a very clear warning. The dark cloud was looming around him. Dawn wasn’t here, but the others felt cold around him.

“We’re not saying that you do! But you’re shutting us out!” Mimi finally shouted. She had enough of this, and she was sure that the others agreed with her. Rainbow even whined to take her side. She didn’t want to unload everything all at once, but this was a good start for her. Dude needs to listen to reason. He needs to say something. Even if it was to talk about his nightmare, it was more than enough. Mimi didn’t know entirely why Dude was acting so cold all of a sudden, but she had a feeling that last night had something to do with it. “You helped us! Please, let us help you!”

Dude suddenly got up. His movement was so abrupt that his chair fell backwards. There was an echoing thud as it hit the ground. The others flinched from this. They were ready for Dude to suddenly start shouting at them. They thought that he would say something if he did. However, he turned on his heels, and left without a word. He didn’t even set his chair upright. Everyone stayed in stunned silence as he disappeared from their sight. He wasn’t sure where he was walking to. He just wanted to get away. Just get away for a bit. Take solace in being alone for once and calm down. However, it was like a bomb was getting ready to explode. Dude might be calm on the outside, but the countdown inside was armed. Seconds ticked in his head. If he didn’t get somewhere quiet, he’ll just explode in front of everyone. He can’t let them see that. His room wasn’t a good idea, the others would find him easily if he hid there. His pace sped up a little as he navigated through the “staff only” areas. It was almost like, getting lost in a labyrinth. Finally Dude stopped in what seemed to be a storage area.

Alone…

He was all alone…

For once he was glad to be alone…

The bomb was still ticking away. It was slowly exploding. Contain it. Keep it locked away. Dude panted heavily as his inner emotions started to make themselves known. His voice came out as a yell as his fist moved automatically. It hit the wall right next to him. It was meant to hurt but Dude was so consumed by anger and self hate that he didn’t feel it. He breathed hard, sweat dripping down his face. He could feel his body shaking, making him wonder how he was still standing. He needs to calm down. He just…

Just…

Just…

“Get it together.” He panted, screwing his eyes shut. He stayed like that until something wet came into contact with his free hand. He slowly looked down, seeing a pair of big brown eyes looking right back at him. Rainbow must have followed him from the second he left. He was so wrapped up in his anger, he didn’t even hear the large dog going after him. “Hey, Rainbow. Sorry you had to see that.” Dude patted Rainbow’s head, succumbing to exhaustion. Back against the wall, he slid down to sit. Rainbow laid down beside him, head on Dude’s lap. Dude’s hand remained on his head, while he took a look at his other hand. It was bruised on one side, even having a small scratch, showing how hard he hit the wall. Rainbow lifted his head up, licking the wound a little. It was as if he believed that his saliva would make it all better. Dude smiled affectionately. He rubbed Rainbow’s head, even going as far as to hug him a little. After a minute of being like that, Dude finally let all the words spill out:

“I guess I’m just frustrated. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been the outsider. No one would give me a chance to prove myself at anything. I never understood why. Since coming here, these guys that I’ve been stuck with are different. I don’t know if it’s because we’re all stuck in the same situation or something else, but it felt great. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt trusted. Then these transformations that the others have gone through changed a bit for me. I suppose that I just started to feel like an outsider again. I must be cursed or something.

Now I’ve got this pressure to win. If I was first, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem. But between you and me, I’m glad that the order went this way. It means that no one else can be in my shoes.”

Rainbow stayed still as Dude let out his thoughts. He allowed the teen to massage his fur and half lay on top of him. When Dude stopped talking, he finally sat up properly. He took a deep breath as he leaned his head back against the wall. This was the first time that he let out his thoughts like that. It was therapeutic and allowed him to be honest with himself for once. It was like Rainbow had this power to let everyone be calm around him. It was the dog’s own special super power.

“I must be crazy. Talking to a dog that probably doesn’t understand a word that I’m saying. It’s too bad that you can’t talk though.” Dude smiled slightly. Rainbow sat up, and licked Dude’s face a little. He laughed as it reminded him a little of how they first met. It made him feel a little better now.

“Dude?” A voice called out. Dude froze as he recognised it. He hurriedly wiped his face with his shirt as Rainbow looked towards the direction of the voice. He wondered if the dog was followed for the most part in trying to find him. How else could this person catch up that easily? Mimi came into the room, looking relieved as she spotted Dude. “There you are.” 

“What’s going on?” Dude asked. Mimi stepped forward. She didn’t seem upset or angry about his behaviour. She was just concerned.

“Dawn showed up not long after you stormed off.” She sighed, taking a seat next to Dude. He let out a frustrated sigh. As if his mood couldn’t get any worse at that moment. “She’s setting up a challenge but it’s not ready yet. Are you okay?”

“I don’t even know anymore.” Dude shrugged, trying not to get angry again. He can’t lose his cool now. Not when a challenge is being set up. “Look I’m sorry about-”

“Don’t. It’s okay.” Mimi interjected, rubbing Dude’s shoulder. It helped to make him feel more relaxed. “If it helps, I believe in you. And so do the others. We know that you can win.”

“It’s not that…” Dude sighed. Mimi stayed quiet. So long as Dawn didn’t come here to interrupt, they should be okay. Dude took another deep breath, contemplating if he should say anymore. He didn’t even know if Mimi had heard the conversation he had with Rainbow and pretended to just show up. If she did, he guessed that it didn’t matter. Why not let out a little more? It did make him feel better after he did that with Rainbow. “I’m just…I guess I’m not just frustrated, but I’m also scared. What will happen if I lose? Would you and the others have done been for nothing? Or will it just be me that’s punished? I…I don’t…”

I don’t want to be alone again…

Dude couldn’t say anymore. His emotions were just draining him. He felt like if he didn’t stop, he might not have the energy to do the challenge. He just leaned his head back again, and closed his eyes. He needed to focus. But the more he tried, the more he felt this crushing pressure. The world was weighing down on him like it was nothing. He can’t keep this up. All of a sudden, something soft pressed against his cheek for a second. His eyes snapped open at that. He looked towards Mimi, who had a shy smile on her face, blushing a little. Dude stuttered a little, his cheeks going red. His fingers gently brushed the spot where he was pecked on the cheek.

“For good luck.” Mimi shyly spoke, playing with her hair a little.

“Thanks, Mimi. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Sprout.” Dude smiled, fighting to bring the blush down.

“Please don’t. Otherwise he won’t stop teasing.” Mimi pouted crossing her arms. It prompted a small laugh out of Dude. Another genuine one. With that, Mimi slowly got to her feet. She dusted off her dungarees, and then held out her hand. “Come on. Better not keep that witch waiting.”

[kitchenhermit]

Brioche Buns 

These buns are super soft, lightly sweet and perfect for burgers. The secret is the "tangzhong," which is a Chinese technique that involves pre-cooking a portion of the flour first. This quick extra step ensures that these buns will be extra fluffy and stay fresher longer. 

Notes:

Mixer: This recipe calls for a mixer as brioche dough is very hydrated and is quite difficult to knead by hand. 

Flour: Try to use bread flour as the protein percentage is higher (12%-14%) which will give you an end product with more chew and structure. However, if you only have all-purpose it’ll be fine. 

Ingredients:

Tangzhong:

20 grams bread flour 

27 grams water 

60 grams milk 

Dough: 

120 grams milk (95F/35C) 

9 grams dry yeast 

320 grams bread flour

7 grams salt  

35 grams sugar 

1 egg + 1 egg yolk (room temperature) 

42 grams unsalted butter (room temperature) 

Egg wash: 

1 egg 

1 tbsp cream/milk 

Method: 

In a small jug, whisk the warmed milk (95F/35C), yeast and sugar together. Leave it to activate until bubbly, about 8 minutes. 

In a small pot, add the ingredients for the tangzhong (flour, water, and milk). Put over medium heat, constantly whisking. It will quickly become a thick gelatinous paste in only about 30 seconds.  Immediately take the pot off the heat and put the tangzhong paste in a small bowl to cool. 

In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk the flour and salt together. Add the flat beater attachment and turn the mixer on low. Slowly pour in the yeast mixture and then the tangzhong paste. When it forms a shaggy dough add the egg and mix until it's incorporated, and then add the egg yolk and mix again. Next put in the butter one piece at a time. 

Once everything is incorporated, change the attachment to the dough hook. Let the mixer run until the dough is smooth and it mostly comes away from the sides, around 10 minutes. With the help of a bench scraper, move the dough to a lightly greased large bowl. Cover with a damp kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Put it in a warm area to proof (I use my oven with the light turned on) until doubled in size (about 1 hour). 

When the dough has doubled in size, punch it down to take out the excess air. Turn it out onto a scale to weigh the dough and then divide that weight by six. It should come to about 110 grams.

Put the dough onto a lightly floured work surface with the help of a bench scraper. Divide it into six even pieces, use the scale to make sure each piece is about 110 grams. It’s important that each bun is about the same size so that it all bakes evenly. 

Now it’s time to shape the individual buns. Pull in a section of each side to meet in the middle. Pinch the middle to make a seam. Then put the dough on an unfloured surface seam side down. Roll it around on the table (always seam side down) your hand cupped on top.

As you go, place the shaped dough balls on a large tray lined with baking paper. Leave about 2in/5cm of space between each one. Cover again either as before or with an inverted tray. Let them rise until doubled (about 1 hour).

When they are doubled gently brush with egg wash that you have whisked together. It’s ok if the buns are touching at this point as this will actually help them rise.  

Place in an oven at 375F/190C for 15 minutes or until golden. Brush with melted butter as soon as they’re out of the oven. Let them cool on a cooling tray and enjoy!

[doberbutts]

In a seperate mixing bowl (I use a liquid measuring cup): 1 cup warm water, 1/3 cup sugar, 3 teaspoons active dry yeast. Stir and let sit at least 5 min for yeast to bloom. Though I wait until the foam's almost to the top of my 2 cup measuring cup.

In a big mixing bowl: 4 cups flour, 2 teaspoons salt, 2 teaspoons baking powder. You also want to add in about 3/4 cup eggs. Now I wanted that yellow color which comes from the yolks so I did 6 egg yolks and a little bit of white, whisked together in a liquid measuring cup, before pouring it into my mixture. The remaining whites I used for my breakfast this morning :) you want to save a little bit of the whites and add some water and whisk together until a little frothy, like soap

Add bloomed yeast. I also scrape all of the foam and cloudy stuff into the mixture.

Combine however works best for you. I don't have a dough hook on my mixer so I use a baking spatula to initially combine and then my hands for the rest. Add flour as necessary to keep it from being too sticky. Slowly incorporate an entire stick of softened, but not melted, butter.

Once that's all combined and you have a dough ball, knead for 10 minutes or until the dough is smooth and stretchy with no lumps or hard spots.

Put a little vegetable or canola oil into your bowl with the dough in it. Cover with a wet paper towel, and then a wet tea towel overtop that. Let rise until doubled in size- it took about an hour.

Onto a prepared surface, dump the risen dough out of the bowl and portion as needed. Roll dough flat with a rolling pin. I have an asian style rolling pin that has little silicone stoppers to determine how thick I want my dough, I used the thinnest option here.

Brush some of that frothy egg white onto the surface of your dough. Sprinkle on brown sugar, cinnamon, and white sugar in enough quantity that you can't see the dough underneath, but not heaps and heaps and heaps of it. I know this is very non-specific but I didn't measure, I just did it by feel lmao. Starting on one end, roll the dough as a spiral until you're left with a tube.

Get your bread pan and a paper towel. Put some cooking oil (I use canola) on the paper towel and then rub that into the sides and bottom of your bread pan. Sprinkle some powdered sugar onto the oiled bits, discard the excess.

Stick dough tube into bread pan! If you made it too long, cut your tube down to size. (you can put the extras in a different pan to combine if you made enough to make TWO loaves, or you can put them in a muffin tin and make Cinnamon Roll Muffins which are also good). Cover once again with a wet paper towel and a wet tea towel. Wait until it's doubled in size. This time, that took about 3 hours.

Preheat oven to 350F. Use the last of that frothy egg white mixture to brush over the top of the tube. Sprinkle powdered sugar and cinnamon. Pop in the pre-heated oven for 35-40 minutes.

While that's baking, melt a half stick of butter in a pot on the stove. Once melted, remove from heat, add 1/2 to 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract as well as however much powdered sugar it takes to be fully combined (this amount can change based on how much vanilla you added and the general humidity of your house/kitchen). Then add just enough hot water to turn it a more watery consistency, perfect for drizzling. You can add maple syrup somewhere in there if you want more of a "fall flavor". Sometimes I'll melt a couple vegan white chocolate chips into it if I'm feeling fancy.

When the loaf comes out of the oven, drizzle your icing over the top. Wait for the loaf to cool down and then enjoy. It should be nicely carmelized on the sizes and bottom, crispy on the top, and taste of cinnamony sugar goodness while you eat.

I think I've finally perfected this bread.

[chimielie]

roots

summary: Kageyama x Reader. written for @yurens for the @heatwave2021 fic exchange!!

word count: 3k

cw: barely slightly suggestive, pure getting together fluff

a/n: technically this is being posted 17 minutes after the due date 😭 i'm so sorry about that ANYWAY i enjoyed writing this so much and i hope you enjoy reading!!

Kageyama comes home after a long day of extra practice to an overheated apartment and a fridge full of spoiled food. Summer is overstaying its welcome, he thinks, putting the batteries into an old fan that clicks and thunks before finally whirring into life. The sun has gone from being blindingly white to a softer egg-yolk yellow, but the view from his window isn’t as pleasant when there’s no breeze and the plastic plants Hitoka-chan had bought him as a housewarming gift are wilting.

So far, the fan is only blowing warm air around, so Kageyama leaves it to do its work while he takes out a trash bag full of chunky milk and black-spotted cuts of meat. He doesn’t mind, really, since he’s too tired to really attempt cooking and had just planned to microwave something. Now, though, his microwave clock is blank and black; he supposes he’ll have to fight his way through crowds of similarly powerless people to get meat buns at the supermarket.

While he’s on his way back up the complex’s stairs, he pauses to watch an open can roll down one step at a time. When it reaches him, he stops it with his toe, twisting his head to the side to read it.

Pickled peas, the can reads, with a little green graphic of the vegetable. He looks up to see you, two steps above him, focused not on the stray can but on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, “is this yours?” He picks up the can and holds it out to you, but thinks better of the gesture after you unsuccessfully try to maneuver the trash bag you’re carrying so that you’ll have a free hand to take it. Instead, he retracts his hand, still holding your pickled peas can.

“Sorry,” you blink and shake your head. “Sorry, my bag is, uh, overfull. I’m surprised more people aren’t out here, but I guess they’re all probably shopping and stuff for the free air-con.”

Your bag looks like the one he just tossed, and on the verge of bursting as well. Kageyama thinks about how gross it would be if it exploded all over the stairwell and shudders inwardly. Outwardly, his face remains the same as always, if a bit scrunched up in disapproval of— well, he doesn’t know what. Too many things.

“Uh, I can carry that for you,” he says. “If you want.”

“Oh, are you sure? I can,” you start, but he’s already hefting it up, tossing in the pea can, and twisting the top of the bag around, corded muscle bunching up beneath his sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The two of you walk down the stairs in silence, and he breathes a sigh of relief when the lid shuts over the bag. You introduce yourself and thank him again, and he reciprocates when he accepts, trying to subtly stretch out his right arm.

“What level are you on?” You ask. “I moved here a couple weeks ago; I haven’t really met any of my neighbors yet.”

“Five,” he says, and wonders if he should warn you that he’s not really the best person to be friends with unless you’re a volleyball enthusiast.

“Oh, so am I!” you say, and he’s not sure why the small smile you wear when you look up at him makes his head feel cloudier than it did the time Hoshiumi tried to explain taxes to him. This isn’t the irritated, dark shadow that had passed over him then, though. He blinks profusely and wonders how it can be heating up, how he can feel so blinded when he’s not staring at the sun.

“This is mine,” you say, and he realizes that he’s been so distracted by the sway of your hair and the glow of your skin (there’s a lot of skin, it’s hot, it’s so hot in this powerless building, even in near darkness) that you’ve made it up all the stairs and down the halls, three doors past his own.

“Okay,” he says, and doesn’t move. You don’t, either, taking out your keys but not putting them in the lock.

“I don’t know what I’ll do for dinner,” your warm voice takes on a nervous tinge. “I just threw out most of my food, and I ate most of the stuff that wasn’t bad for lunch.”

He can’t tell if that’s an invitation or real distress. After all, you just moved in. Maybe you don’t know many places to eat yet.

“There’s a supermarket just a block away,” he says. “They have meat buns and other ready-to-eat meals.”

“I’ll look up the address,” you look truly grateful. Not an invitation, then, so he’s not sure why the next words spill out of his mouth.

“Do you want me to show you there?”

He stutters and stumbles over his next words, trying to pry open a way for you out of the outing should you want to walk out. You watch the red slowly rising on his face, admire the way his speech trips from a slow stroll to the speed of a sprinter in the last meters of a race. Finally, he slams on the brakes, an electric calm settling over him when he takes a deep breath and says:

“I’m sorry for all that. You can say no, if you want, but I’d like to get to know you better if you feel the same.”

The calm is splintered all too soon. You can see the panic clawing up his throat, making veins in his neck stand out and the whites of his eyes show as he mutters something about being a stupid idiot under his breath, and so instead of letting him run on his last legs right into the ground, you place your hand (gently, like you’re trying not to scare off a wild animal) on his forearm and pull him right back to earth.

“I’m just as interested as you are,” you say, and let him wonder whether you’re more interested in the market or in him.

In the still summer heat, something is blooming. Little green shoots, poking through soil with the awe of newborns after a lifetime spent buried. Kageyama, although he can’t name the psychical flora, can sense a presence where the fields have been barren for many years, too young yet to require a welcome and watering or even an upheaval.

And he thinks he can see the same feeling rising in you.

He walks you to the grocery, sticking to the shaded side of the street and putting on his most threatening aura to part the cloying crowds of people also trying to find sustenance that won’t turn in the heat.

The heat, the heat, the heat seems to be the most anyone can think about, fanning themselves and commenting on the lateness of sunset and pouring bottles of water on their heads. You don’t seem to wilt beneath the weight of the sun’s wrath, though, keeping up a steady flow of conversation punctuated with enough comfortable silence that Kageyama feels neither awkward nor exhausted. When you nudge him and comment on something you’ve seen, or when you hum in agreement, or when you ask him questions, it doesn’t make him want to respond tersely the way strangers usually do at first. When he snaps at you accidentally or says something that should shut down the conversation, you just laugh lightly and let your tongue rest before he says something— hesitant, perhaps dry, but still something to let you know that he’s here because he wants to be, and he’s here because he’s growing to like you.

When the both of you get back, holding little packages of food, not enough to worry about leftovers going bad, you take the elevator. The walk back was more tiring than the walk there; it’s barely getting cooler.

Kageyama takes your meal into his hands, glad his skin is thick enough that the heat from the bottom of it isn’t so bad. He doesn’t have to balance the package on his fingertips like you did. You glance at him curiously, but say nothing.

When the elevator doors slide open, he steps out first, walks straight to his door and goes inside. Just inside the doorway, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, blue pools stirring with hope in their deepest depths.

You pick up your pace and follow him through.

Kageyama’s apartment is spare, but comfortable. His couch is navy blue and threadbare, his TV admirably old. There’s a table covered in papers— before you can look too closely at what appears to be a magazine with his face on the cover, he’s sweeping them away and dumping them unceremoniously in a pile on the TV stand. The curtains are pulled shut to keep out the sun’s rays and the fan seems to have pulled the temperature down to bearable.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a chair. You take it, letting yourself smile a little wider, knee bouncing beneath the table as he turns to pull out two plates and sets of utensils. “I figure we won’t need to use the microwave.”

“Would it work, anyway?” You return, and he blinks and turns to look at the appliance, which remains lifeless.

“Oh. Yeah,” he seems unfazed by the blunder. “Let’s eat.” So far, he’s seemed supremely nonchalant— except for the blip when he’d asked you to stay by his side.

Well, that was dramatic. It was just groceries and dinner, even if it felt like breaking dawn.

Conversation starts slow, because Kageyama seems so insistent on shoving all his food down before it runs away from him, in addition to some kind of health drink that looks like it tastes worse warm. While the warmth tends to curb your appetite, the walk helped, so you waste no time in chowing down yourself.

Once he’s slowed down, Kageyama speaks. You trade stories of your youth— the first time you rode a bike, the first time he set a ball— of your relatives— he speaks of his grandfather with a reverence you’ve found is increasingly rare, and with a love that you know can’t be pulled from a child with any kind of negligence— of your job and his. You ask if there’s a channel on which you can watch his games, and he offers you free tickets. You’re strangers, but the way you communicate makes you feel like you can see each step to take from here. The path you’re following is one not taken alone.

“It’s dark,” Kageyama notes, when the sun is no longer burning through the curtains. “Should you—”

“Do you have candles?” You say at the same time, then wince. “Sorry, what did you say?” He swallows, then crosses his arms and rests them on the table.

“Never mind,” he shakes his head. “I think so.”

He stands to search one of the rooms down the hall, and returns with a thick handful of taper candles, his other hand holding a bag that he dumps out on the table to reveal a number of candle holders. He winces when they clang against the table, but you’re already putting the two together, needing something to do with your hands.

“Wait,” you look at him, pupils dilated. “Do you have anything to light them with?”

He responds by grinning widely and producing a lighter, and the training of his fine motor skills is apparent as he dexterously lights each taper.

Hinata insists that his smile remains a terrifying freak occurrence when he remembers to; Kageyama’s publicist, who keeps trying to wrangle him into advertising campaigns, vehemently disagrees. His smile remains without his knowledge once every light is successfully lit, and unbeknownst to you, your opinion couldn’t be more different from his orange-haired friend’s.

In the candlelight, he’s more handsome than before, a thought you allow yourself only grudgingly. He invited you to dinner, and Kageyama doesn’t seem like the kind of person to do anything unless he really wants to.

In the candlelight, your face is lit up brilliantly, your features softened and eyes hooded in shadow. Kageyama is often oblivious to the outside world, too focused on his game and his goals to stop and smell the roses, but now he couldn’t break the moment if he tried. He drinks you in, liquid fire rippling over the both of you in slow waves.

“I should probably go,” you say, your tone quiet to match the night, eventually, once the moon is high overhead. “Thank you for being so neighborly. I’m sorry if I overstayed my welcome.”

He laughs a little at that. There’s a fondness in the sound that scratches at his throat and threatens to poke up and out of the cavity, but when you share his mirth, however light, he can’t bring himself to choke it back down.

“You didn’t,” he assures you. “You should come back sometime.”

“Yeah?” You regard him in the doorway with an amused grin.

“Yeah.”

You find yourself dropping Kageyama a line whenever you’re running short on food or company, which quickly transitions into an easy friendship bordering on something more. He tries to drag you out on morning runs, and you convince him to start using skincare products beyond a splash of water at the beginning and end of every day. He complains affectionately about his teammates and listens like you’re the Prime Minister as you rant about your worst work days. With time and care, the wasteland becomes an oasis, lush greenery thriving with every demure smile and brush of skin against skin and shared, sarcastic glance.

It’s on another warm night that Kageyama (Tobio, he reminds you to call him) invites you over, citing the fact that he’s run out of matches to rewatch (a lie) and that his friends are mostly out of town (true). You’re there all too quickly; when he teases you about it, you roll your eyes and tell him that the commute isn’t long.

You’re just finishing your meal, although Tobio’s been done for minutes yet, when the lights flicker out. There’s barely a beat before the two of you pull out your phones in sync, searching for the power map before making twin noises of understanding.

“Power outage,” he speaks first, and you nod.

“Candles?”

There’s a strange sense of remembrance hanging in the air as you walk ahead of him to find the candles; you’ve seen them before on previous expeditions to his home. Strange, the passage of time.

You gather them together, hip-bumping him before you walk out of the room. He lights them, just as he did the first night, and you watch as the sparks flare to life, growing into full flames.

There’s something new in the air this time, though. A breeze brushes over your skin, every hair on your body standing up straight at the touch of the air current. You’ve graduated from sitting across from Tobio to the seat next to him, and you can feel the warm press of his leg against yours. You kick lightly at his ankle, your intent playful, but it does nothing to dissuade the turning tide.

Like the last time, Tobio is captivated. Your eyes shine too brightly in the quickly dimming room, and he feels too relaxed, too ready to do something he hasn’t yet had the chance to think through. There’s something new in the air, but nothing unexpected; nothing that hasn’t been building gradually since he looked up at you in that stairwell and saw all too much more than there was. He was the stranger under the filtered sunshine, the dinner buddy behind the candlelight. But since the first morning, he's wanted to be your lover of tomorrow's tender dawn.

You’re not sure who leans in first.

The first press of lips is electric. You shiver, a full-body shock sweeping over you that prompts you to move quickly where you might have taken things slow, to act when you wanted to learn him first. Your hands push into his hair and cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer or pushing yourself in; you’re not sure. He doesn’t seem to mind the change of pace, just keeps kissing you. Inevitable, is what you think he is, a force of nature washing over you with a steadiness and skill you’ve never experienced.

He doesn’t break away, only lets you pull back and rest your forehead against his when you need to. You can see his blue eyes blinking at you, asking silently why you’d pulled away. You take a deep breath in response, and exhale with an oh as big hands pull you into his lap so he can nose at your neck, up your jaw, along your cheek.

“Tobio,” you whisper his name, and he hums in response, opens one of your hands and places his own in it to hold. “Shit, the lights— the lights are back on.”

They are, throwing the picture in his kitchen into sharp relief. You’re in Kageyama Tobio’s lap, kissing him like you’re promising him forever and more, letting him reciprocate with all the vibrant energy he carries in his soul.

“Everything okay?” He asks, letting go of you just enough that his hands hover over your skin instead of gluing themselves to it.

“Yes,” you say instantly. “Kiss me more.”

[missallsundaes]

Sanji x Male Reader — Amateur Chef

2111 Words • CW dealing with repressed bisexuality

When Luffy heard your self proclaimed cooking skills in the town market to a friend, he immediately invited you on to the ship, even without trying your food. A bigger crew needs more cooks, was his reasoning for Sanji. Sanji wasn't exactly happy about the new addition to his kitchen, possessive about his things and how the kitchen was maintained. And he was sure that you wouldn't take the same care as he did. At least you had your own set of knives, he thought with a sigh.

The first night cooking together proved to be...a challenge. He was paying you no mind, working in his own entrees for the crew, but the haphazard slap of the kitchen knife against the chopping board, well he could only stand it for so long before his temper got the better of him.

“What the fuck are you doing over there, amateur?” He seethed, turning to face you.

You sheepishly set down your knife on the counter, stepping back to show Sanji the vegetables you were cutting. His heart skipped a beat, seeing your rough cut shapes and uneven chops.

“What are you doing to that poor food!” Worded like a question, but spat at you like an insult. He approached you cutting board, staring down at the mangled shapes of potato, carrot and celery, hand frustratingly pulling through his hair.

“Well I'm just making soup..” You started, you were a bit offended but the chef in front of you was too intimating to talk back to. You'd heard enough stories about Black Leg Sanji to know when to keep your mouth shut.

“So you decided to torture your poor ingredients?” He reached for his own knife, wiping it clean with a cloth before trying to salvage the vegetables. You watched in awe as he saved first the potatoes, then the celery. He looked at you before touching the chunks of carrot on the board.

“You taking notes, amateur?” He said. His voice was softer now though his tone was still harsh. He raised the visible eyebrow, “Come over here and learn how it's done.”

He waved you over to stand in front of him, placing his hand over yours on your knife, he guided your left hand into place, showing you the gentle fist to protect your fingers without losing grip on the vegetables. He started slow, chopping motions in cool even bursts, slicing the chunks of carrot into perfectly measured cubes. You tried to pay attention but the beating of your heart in your throat, his warm hand over yours, and his firm chest placed against your back was all that your mind could focus on.

When the carrot was taken care of he let go of your hand, leaving you feeling you were missing something. You watched him cross the kitchen again, standing again in front of his own prep, you watched him skillfully pull the bones from a huge fish in one movement, running his hand over it to make sure it was all removed, looking for even the smallest of bones.

You hadn't heard about how gentle he was. How careful in the kitchen with perfect mannerisms. He looked at you, and you realized how obviously caught up in watching him you were, jumping to peel the garlic in front of you for your soup. He laughed, turning back to his prep, beginning to make a marinade with fresh lemons and cracked pepper for the fish.

“You're not a chef are you?” He said, looking at you briefly as he squeezed the lemons of their juice.

“No not at all,” you said sheepishly, ”I know a few recipes but when a wanted pirate grabs you and tells you you're going to be a chef on his crew you listen, you know? It's not like I was in a position to refuse..”

He sighed, knowing exactly how enthusiastic Luffy could be when he set his mind on something. “Don't worry, you can be my sous chef. I'll teach you what you need to know. We'll start with more knife practice for breakfast tomorrow, I hope you're okay getting up early.”

You thought briefly of how much you were not a morning person, though this was not the time to mention that. You nodded, “Thanks for helping me. You're a kind man.”

Sanji's face flushed at the genuine compliment, turning around quickly as if there was a pressing matter in the fridge to attend to. “N-nonsense it's just the right thing to do.” He stammered, head buried in the fridge, looking desperately for an ingredient to pull out that would make sense.

///

He kicked your hammock in the men's cabin, foot still perched on your side as you swayed back and forth, trying to regain your senses, shaken from a dream about your new crewmates, the one in front of you in particular.

“I thought you could be up early,” he laughed.

The room was still full of the snoring of the other men, the only light from the lantern in Sanji’s hand, casting golden light across him. He was already dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, looking primed for the day. You were sure that you looked the absolute opposite, feeling the drool caked to your cheek and knowing your hair was probably a wreck.

“Uh, about that,” you chuckled, climbing out of the hammock and hopping to the floor of the cabin. “I may not be as much of a morning person as I said.”

“I figured as much when you didn't wake up the first few times I kicked you.” He said, “Though I bothered you enough for you to say my name in your sleep.”

You turned from him, hiding your face by searching for a clean set of clothes, forcing an awkward laugh, “Oh yeah I must have subconsciously known you were trying to wake me.”

“Well hurry up, these idiots won't be asleep forever, and you do not want to see Luffy without his breakfast.” He left the room for you to get dressed, and you trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you met him in the kitchen, he had a multitude of fruits set up at your station. You could smell bacon in the oven already, and he was whipping a large bowl of eggs for what you could only imagine was the biggest omelette of all time.

“Took you long enough.” He said, though he had a smirk on his face, his harsh attitude from yesterday softened.

“Am I chopping these?” You said, lifting your knife to slice the strawberries laid out on the board.

“Ah ah wait. Hold on I'm almost done.” He said, setting down the bowl of whipped eggs on the counter. He approached you, watching over your shoulder. “Do you remember the lesson from yesterday?”

You nodded, ”I think so.” you put your hand in the position he showed you, holding the knife how it felt under his guiding hand, breathed in and started slicing the strawberries.

The difference in your cuts from yesterday to this morning was leagues away. He adjusted your elbow, his firm gentle touch making your heart flutter, and just the adjustment of your arm made your slices neater. “Breathe,” he said, his own breath hot in your ear and making you catch your breath instead. You struggled to retain your breathing, but your cuts were messier now. He took your hand again, your heart beating through your chest. “You're making this so much harder than it is, watch. Breath with me.”

You times your breathing to match his, his firm chest pressed into you, his hand over yours. You felt your chests rise in succession together, making you feel as one. His hand held yours in place, but you were doing the work.

“Exactly like that,” he praised, you felt like you could melt right then and there. “You're doing great.”

He let go of you, stepping back to the stove top to heat a huge skillet for his omelette. “You've got it from here I presume.” You watched him for a moment, testing the temperature of the pan before adding his eggs and watching them diligently. “Most of breakfast is ready, so just get the fruit cut and plated and then we can wake up the crew.”

You nodded, “Thanks again, Sanji.” You said, continuing to chop the fruit in front of you, plating it up on the large platter he had set out.

///

The next few weekswent the same, Sanji waking you in the morning. Him teaching you new techniques to use in the kitchen. Making three meals a day together, not including if someone wanted a snack, getting closer and closer until you couldn't bear it. Your feelings for the man were definitely growing, you had a sneaking suspicion that he had similar feelings for you, but the constant doting of the girls on the crew made you doubt yourself, fearing that he wasn't into men the way you were.

You had already made fresh baked bread together that morning, as you watched his hands knead the dough tauntingly slow, his strong hands rolling it out and beating it down, his sleeves rolled up you could see the flexing of every muscle in his forearms.

You were cracking about two dozen eggs into a large skillet to fry, trying not to think about how close he was to you, chopping chives to put on top of your fried eggs.

“Sanji,” you said, rinsing your hands of the raw eggs in the sink.

He didn't look up from his work, now slicing pieces of smoked salmon, “Eh?” He said.

“I think I might have a problem,” you said, trying desperately not to look at the blond sharing the kitchen with you. He set down his knife, immediately checking your eggs over, the stove temperature, any kitchen error he could think of before looking you incredulously in the face. “It's not my food.” He looked more relieved than you expected and you laughed.

“What is it then?” He said, curly brow peaked with curiosity.

“I think I fell for one of my crewmates since I've been on the ship.” You flipped your eggs carefully, trying not to break your yolks.

“Oh? Nami? Robin?” He said, going back to work at his salmon. He wasn't jealous, per say, it's not like he really expect to feel this way about you. Plus the girls were gorgeous in every way, how could a red blooded man not fall for them. He still didn't know how to accept his feelings for you, forcing down any hint of bisexuality that he ever felt, blocking out those feelings, usually with anger.

“Uh no,” you said, turning off the heat on the stove and letting the residual heat finish your eggs as you seasoned them with salt and pepper. Beginning to set up the crews plates with thick slices of your fresh bread, two eggs each (four for Luffy and Zoro), sprinkling the chives on top, and passing the plates to Sanji to top with smoked salmon and hollandaise sauce.

After a moment of silence so thick you could slice it with the kitchen knife next to you, you continued, “Sanji, it's you.”

He almost dropped the plate he was holding, and you both moved quickly in reaction, hands one on top of the other under the plate. “What,” he said, worded like a question but tone flat in disbelief.

“Just, spending all this time with you has meant so much to me,” you withdrew your hand, looking away from him to hide the tinge of crimson on your cheeks. “Having you close to me, your guiding hands. Your strength. I can't help it.” He was still frozen in place, thoughts racing. “Just don't worry. Never mind, forget I said anything!” You said, plating the last of your half of the plates.

“Wait,” he said, as you were leaving the galley to wake the crew, “I think I fell for you too.” You stopped in the doorway, turning back to face him, but his back was to you. “I grew up not allowed to be who I wanted and even though I can now it's still hard to accept who I am. But I want to learn and be better. I want to be with you.”

“Do you mean that?” You said, letting the door swing back closed.

“Yeah,” he laughed, he turned to you smiling with tears in the corners of his eye. “Yeah I definitely mean it.” He wiped his eye, “Come on then, let's go wake up the ravenous beasts.”

[bakingtherapy]

Just Keep Baking #18 Polish Apple Pie

Sul Sul, gerbits. Today we are going to be making a … apple pie cake. This cake comes from Poland and it is called a “Szarlotka.” It is different from the American Apple pie in both the filling and the crust. The American Apple Pie tends to be a little bit more sweet. 

The recipe says to add a meringue on top because it adds color. But, I want to give you a little piece of advice, don’t try making meringue when it is raining outside. It will not stiffen. I learned that the hard way this time. 

But this apple cake is strange. It’s good, simple, but it is just weird. When I was making this recipe I was thinking to myself, “Am I sure that this is a cake and not a pie.” Either way it was really good.

The recipe will be down in the description. Feel free to check it out.

The first thing you are going to is preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

We are going to start with the crust. It is very similar and very different from that of an American Pie Crust. For this recipe you are going to combine the flour, sugar and baking powder into a bowl. 

You then are going to cut in the butter with a pastry blender or two forks, until it resembles small peas. 

Next you are going to add the 1 egg and the egg yolks to the dough. Don’t worry if the dough is crumbly, because that is how it is supposed to look. 

Cover the dough and refrigerate it for 30 minutes. 

Again this recipe is completely different from that of an American Apple pie, in many different ways. Another way is by the dough itself is not rolled out, it is patted in. 

Once the dough is chilled and the 30 minutes are up, you are going to take your dough and divide it into thirds. 

Two thirds are going to be the bottom, while the last third is going to be the top. 

You are going to pat the two thirds into a 9 inch springform pan. Making sure that you cover the entire bottom, and most of the sides. I found that it didn’t cover the entire side of the pan. But it gives a fun texture on the sides. 

The filling is just simply sliced apples and cinnamon. Mixed together. And then add them to the pan, pilling them up. 

With the last third you are going to crumble it on top of the apples. 

Now you are going to bake the apples for 50 minutes, or until the crust is lightly brown and the apples are tender. 

After the 50 minutes is up, this is when you can put your meringue on top. But remember not to make a meringue when it is raining outside. Because meringues are very temperamental, and will not stiffen up. I completely forgot that meringues were like that. 

I hope that you liked this recipe. Again make sure to check out the recipe down in the description down below. Vadish, Dag Dag. 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖The Polish Housewife

Show the original pie crust, author, some  💖💖💖 Betty Crocker

Printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Printable version of this pie crust recipe: on the blog

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[lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos]

Homecoming: one shot just fluff Miguel Galindo and Reader

@itsjustmyfantasyroom

573 words . I felt the need to write some soft sweet cartel daddy right now .

You were surprised when you had gotten home from a long weekend out of town to find him in the kitchen cooking. Miguel’s shirt sleeves were rolled up and he was chopping some mild hot peppers into a bowl with egg yolks cheddar cheese and tomatillos . He poured the mixture into a cast iron skillet that was buttered and placed some soft tortilla shells on his grill pan. He turned when he heard you place your weekender bag down on the floor and heels also being taken off.

You moved toward him and kissed him. “ I missed you husband.”

He pulled you to him and held you for a moment.

“ I thought your favorite comfort food meal was in order tonight baby .”

“ You are so sweet.” You sat down to watch him cook for a while

Your diamond circle pendant shone above the open top button of the men’s style shir that you had worn home that was a deep green color . It had Miguel’s initial in the center and you wore it when you were away from home.

Then you heard the sound of your dogs paws coming from the back of the house . Your German Shepherd and Golden Retriever mix Jade barked excitedly . You smiled, “ Yes I’m home sweet pup .”

You opened your weekender bag and pulled out an Elmo dog toy and gave it to Jade. You knew she would sleep with it on her pillow in her crate later.

You watched Miguel begin to plate up dinner for the two of you and he poured your passion fruit and mango juice to go with it .

“ So how were things in Santo Padre while I was away?”

“ Uneventful, I caught up on some business calls and paperwork, and I got the leak in the jacuzzi fixed. We had to get a new drain put in. Jade and I went for a few runs with Nestor and his new dog Tito, I think she likes Rottweilers.”

You smiled as the two of you began to eat slowly .

“ There is also something in the bedroom for tonight when you unpack later. I think you’ll like it .” He leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“ What did you do Miguel?”

“ Now sweetheart if I told you it would ruin the surprise .”

“ You spoil me amor.”

After dinner and when you had done the dishes since Miguel had cooked, you headed tot he bedroom to unpack and place your laundry in the hamper. Then you saw the package on your side of the bed. You moved to it and opened he wrapping. You felt your heart melt when you opened it. He had gotten you a new robe with your initial on the back and a star print and also a men’s style gray pajama shirt for under it because you loved to sleep in an older one of his..

There were also some new bath products in the coconut and rose petal scents that you liked . He was so sweet when you were away from home.

You were unzippering your bag when you heard his footsteps behind you,

You turned and kissed him. “ My surprise is perfect but too much.”

Miguel touched his finger to your lips. “ You deserve the best Mrs. Galindo because you put up with this life daily.” He kissed your forehead then.

“ I could not have found a better man.”

[pa-panda-heroes]

can I get uhhhh,, angst number 1 with dabi? Some kind of feel good shit, maybe nsfw but whatever works best!

fun fact(s): my hair has been every color but yellow (pink was my fav), I love music and I can easily fit into tight spaces somehow

tysm and congratulations!!!

you had!! pink hair!! omg, i've wanted to dye my hair pink or blue for like, six years but my mother would never let me OTL. thank you anoni!!

this prompt is definitely a mood also I KNOW I WENT OVER MY MAXIMUM BUT IT JUST KEPT WRITING ITSELF, oops

Angst #1: "I can't do anything right."

Dabi had been quiet. Well, even more quiet than usual. His tongue was sharper, sentences shorter, and his mood undetectable--the recipe for an oncoming breakdown, meltdown, whatever it could be called; your main concern was how it would manifest. Would Dabi take it out on himself and dip out on you for days, weeks, months in self-isolation like he has before? Would he instead take it out on some random jerk in an alleyway and burn him alive, yet also dragging Dabi himself down via the toll his quirk took on his body?

Any attempts to reach out to him would be fruitless and unsuccessful, only leading to Dabi pushing you away and telling you to fuck off in a lazy, dull manner. Dabi, whoever he was before he met you, had trauma. He had baggage. And while you refuse to label or view him as “broken,” during previous meltdowns he made it clear he felt as much. Yet, at any other time, he was haughty and cynical at the same time, cracking the “Well, don’t we all gotta few screws loose, babydoll?” that you’ve stopped rolling your eyes at. A defense mechanism. Diversion. Humour. Those were his favourite tools with which to deflect, with which to change the subject.

Doing so would only prolong the calm before the storm, typically.

And now the storm comes barreling toward you, as if you were bare naked on the shoreline awaiting the deadly tsunami coming toward you.

With your heart skipping a beat and adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river, you leap out of bed and run to the source of the loud crash that awoke you. It was the middle of the night. Was someone trying to break in?

You follow the lights, only to be lead into the kitchen. The messy, messy kitchen. Some of the lights were on, yet even so, you could see the mess. The fridge was wide open and the orange juice and milk were out on the counter, the latter tipped over and spilling out onto the floor. Eggshells were scattered all over, from the top of the range to littering the countertops, with their respective yolks and whites cooked into a failed attempt at a meal of some sort which had been thrown haphazardly into the bin. In the midst of it all stood your lover, hands on the edges of the counter and hunched over in his t-shirt and sweats.

“Dabi?” you call out, blood frozen in shock.

“I wanted an omelette.” His voice is normal volume, but it has a fiery spark of frustration to it. “I got up a while ago, and I was hungry. I can’t...” Dabi huffs, and you think he’s going to be calm about this, but that thought is squashed when he picks up the egg carton in front of him and throws it at the wall. “Can’t make a fucking omelette! It’s so simple and stupid and I can’t do it! Damn it!”

You flinch at the outburst, but you creep toward him. “I don’t think this is about making omelettes, Dabi,” you say quietly, calmly in your approach.

Dabi leans against the counter and slides down to the floor, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t do anything right. I was never enough and I’m never going to be. What the fuck!”

You rush to his side and sit next to him, putting your cheek on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist how he likes. You hush him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s not true, okay? You’re so much more than enough. You’re everything to me, so don’t say stuff like that. Please?”

He doesn’t move or respond. You know the self depreciation had its roots deep into his core, that he probably even doubted you.

After a while of sitting in silence he turns to you. “Can you teach me how to make omelettes?” Dabi sounds more desperate than you’d ever heard him, and it puts a knot in your stomach.

You grin at him sweetly, running your fingers through his hair, which seems to calm him by the slacking in his shoulders. “Mm, do I love you?”

He gives pause, as if contemplating.

You grab his cheek firmly and push against his forehead with yours. “Yes, Dabi, I love you. And yes, I am more than happy to teach you how to make omelettes. Okay?”

Saying nothing, Dabi nods at you.

Simply loving Dabi wasn’t going to fix or cure him. But ensuring him that he’s not alone and that you’re there for him can help him cope and get even a little better. It would take time, but for this man you had plenty of patience.

[love-takes-work]

Donut Box for the Suspects

"I'll have one jelly donut with powdered sugar on the side; three chocolate frosted; one frosted chocolate; two chocolate-frosted chocolate; one Dog-Nut; medium well; one coffee with milk and sugar, hold the coffee."

You knew someone would do it, and that someone is always me.

See below for donut recipes and guidelines.

See more SU food tutorials!

I wasn't gonna do this because I've made donuts for this show before, but what can I say, I got inspired!

Remember at the beginning of "Sadie Killer," Steven came into the Big Donut and bought a big order for the Cool Kids?

To be clear, this was his order:

"I'll have one jelly donut with powdered sugar on the side; three chocolate frosted; one frosted chocolate; two chocolate-frosted chocolate; one Dog-Nut; medium well; one coffee with milk and sugar, hold the coffee."

Dang Steven

This turns out to be rather a lot of work for me! There are three different donut types in there with three different topping styles!

This tutorial will be broken into five parts:

Jelly Donuts

Chocolate-Frosted Donuts

Chocolate Donuts

Chocolate Glaze

Assembly

Jelly Donuts

Ingredients:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (divided into 1/2 cup plus 3/4 cup)

1/8 cup granulated sugar

1/8 teaspoon salt

Half a packet of rapid rise yeast (about 3.5 grams)

1/3 cup warm milk (about 110° F/ 43° C)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided into half tablespoons

1 egg yolk

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Some jelly or jam

Some granulated sugar for dusting

Directions:

Whisk together the 1/2 cup flour, sugar, yeast, and salt in a large bowl. 

Add the warm milk. Melt 1.5 tablespoons of the butter (leaving the other half tablespoon for way later). Add the melted butter in with the egg and vanilla, and combine it well with your whisk. Cover with plastic wrap and let it sit at room temperature for about 10 minutes. It should get some little bubbles in it by the end of the wait.

Add in the remaining 3/4 cup of flour and knead for 5 minutes. It shouldn't be sticky but if it is, add a small amount of flour. When you're done, let it rise for 1 1/2 hours covered in plastic wrap, or until doubled in size. You can accelerate this by putting it uncovered on a baking sheet in the oven at 100° F/38° C for 45 minutes instead.

Now roll the dough out on a floured surface to around 1/2” thick. Cut 2 1/2-inch rounds with a biscuit cutter. Re-roll the scraps. This makes 6 to 9 donuts.

Let these guys rise one more time on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper under a kitchen towel: either room temperature for 45 minutes or in the 100° F/38° C oven for 20 minutes.

Bake them in the center rack of a preheated oven at 375° F/190° C for 10 minutes (until the tops turn golden).

Melt your remaining butter and use a pastry brush to butter each bun when they come out of the oven.

Then dip their tops in sugar.

Cut a deep slit in each donut and pipe the jam in with a pastry bag.

They are done!

In the donut box, the pictured jelly donut has a nice tan glaze. You can melt caramel or use melted butterscotch, but I just reused some chocolate buttercream frosting I already had for the photo.

Chocolate Glazed Donuts

Ingredients:

1 cup flour

3/8 cup sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 smidgen ground nutmeg

1 smidgen salt

3/8 cup buttermilk

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/4 tablespoons vegetable oil

Directions:

This is a tiny batch of 6 donuts and we're using a baking pan. This will bake at the same time, in the same pan, as the chocolate donuts up next.

Preheat the oven to 325° F/160° C). Spray a donut pan with nonstick cooking spray or oil.

In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder, nutmeg, and salt.

In another bowl, stir together the egg, buttermilk, vanilla, and oil. Whisk until combined, then pour the wet batter into the dry batter. Whisk together.

Put the dough in a piping bag and fill each donut hole about 3/4 full.

Since we are baking chocolate donuts at the same time, I'll pause this recipe here, but if you're only making these and not chocolate donuts, bake them for about 8 minutes and let them cool in the pan a while before turning them onto a cooling rack and frosting.

Chocolate Donuts

Ingredients:

1 cup flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1/2 cup brown sugar packed

1/2 cup buttermilk, room temperature

1/2 cup plain prepared coffee

1 egg, room temperature

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup butter, melted

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 325° F/160° C if it's not already preheated from the previous recipe.

In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients: flour, baking soda, salt, unsweetened cocoa powder, and brown sugar.

In another bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, coffee, egg, and vanilla. 

Pour the wet ingredients into dry ingredients. Stir, not too comprehensively--just enough to mix. Then stir in the melted butter--again, do not overblend.

I tried to use a pastry bag again to fill the other 6 donut holes, but this batter is WAY runnier. I recommend a funnel with small amounts premeasured or a turkey baster to fill the holes. Very sloppy but rich!

Bake the donuts for about 8 minutes.

Let them cool in the pan and then turn them onto a cooling rack.

You are ready to glaze them!

Chocolate Glaze

Ingredients:

1/4 cup chocolate

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 teaspoon honey or agave

1 teaspoon water

Directions:

Put all the ingredients in a medium bowl and melt in the microwave. I only needed two 20-second bursts to melt it down.

Stir, and dip donuts!

One donut in the cartoon's box looks like it's vanilla frosted. You can make white frosting if you prefer by melting a couple tablespoons of butter, adding about half a cup of sifted powdered sugar, and splashing in a few tablespoons of milk or cream (or water) and a little vanilla extract. But I just used some leftover buttercream frosting I had in the house since it was just one donut. (I put some cocoa frosting on a couple extra donuts too.)

Assembly

Time to put everything in the box for the Cool Kids! (Who, unbeknownst to them, were about to become THE SUSPECTS in Sadie's new band!)

First, I had to microwave a hot dog (well, veggie dog!) because SOMEONE ordered a dang Dog-Nut.

This Dog-Nut, if you notice, is different than it looks in the ad for this product. I have made Dog-Nut before and it usually has more variety in the donuts, sprinkles, and a stripe of frosting mustard. This version from the pictured order is just three chocolate frosted donuts connected with a hot dog. Oh well.

Then I added in the other boxed donuts: a jelly, three chocolate frosted, one chocolate frosted, and two chocolate frosted chocolate.

I also notice that someone ordered coffee with cream and sugar (which is just sugary milk??).

Sadie was perplexed. So am I.

I just took the order as dictated and added the powdered sugar on the side too.

That's it! Donut box for the Suspects!

Sugar milk is pretty tasty by the way. Great for eating with these rich chocolate donuts!!

See more SU food tutorials!

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”