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chilumi-shipper · 3 years ago

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Ready to Hold On

Xiao x Adeptus!Fem!Reader x Zhongli

Summary: Why not both? Love works in strange ways, and fate has given you a choice. Let it be known that your choice is not to choose, but to love them both. You had a realization when you hear from Xiao that Zhongli apparently had excused himself from your "hangout", you wishes that you could be with both Zhongli and Xiao at that moment.

(Alternative Ending to Ready to Let Go, I suggest you read it first. This version is where you start a polyamory relationship with both of them.)

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"He said he needed to do some extra work because of all the mora he's been spending." Xiao explained as he watch you mold the cookie dough to little spheres before placing them neatly on the tray.

You two were so close to each other, exactly how you wanted it to be. Somehow, you felt as though, you feel something missing. Despite your close proximity with Xiao, him standing right next to you as you create your first every batch of cookies, encouraging you when you say they're probably not gonna be that good, you kind of miss a certain someone who would say very long, unnecessary details about the very origin of cookies, giving you some baking advice so you don't accidentally make a stomach destroyer cookie batch.

Perhaps it was the lingering feeling of golden orbs (aside from Xiao's) that would watch your every move with care, just to make sure nothing is a miss. Maybe it was the feeling of a strong chest behind you or a constant hand of reassurance resting upon your shoulder.

"Y/N..." The soft voice of Xiao calls for you, you looked at him questioningly, stopping what you were doing. "I--" His face seem to turn bashful as he looks down, ears starting to turn pink.

You smiled a bit, feeling giddy as the Yaksha looks for the right words to say. Your eyes gleam as you stare at him expectantly, this was the time you were waiting for!

"You like me?!" In your excitement, you accidentally blurted out your thoughts before he could even finish his sentence.

...

He looked at you, a bit surprised, not expecting that you would blurt something like that out. And yet, you looked equally surprised yourself, covering your mouth with your wrist, since your hands had been handling the cookie dough.

'Ahhhh!!!' You cursed yourself with every bad word you know, screaming internally as you turn your back onto him. 'You're so fricking stupid, Y/N! Why the heck would you say that?! You piece of-'

Even if he did like you back, that's still so awkward!

"I'm sorry..." You whispered, feeling your legs weaken with embarrassment. You heard him sigh from behind you before chuckling.

You felt his hands gently grasping your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him.

"Was I as obvious as you?" The cat-eyed boy spared a teasing remark, just for you. You can't help but feel shocked, Zhongli said you were obvious too! But Xiao, who doesn't interact with humans to even know how others react when having a crush, is saying that your feelings were pretty obvious? You gotta be real transparent for that one.

You felt your face heat up at what he said, but still, the comment made you laugh. "You're unpredictable, but I like that about you." You finally looked at his golden eyes, and they were filled with happiness, because of you. He is happy because of you.

You scoot yourself closer, now just inches apart from a sweet first kiss. "I like you, Y/N." He finally said it, the words you would imagine him say whenever you're lost in your wondering thoughts, but now, it's actually real. "Is this okay?" You nodded slowly, still starstruck as he gently holds your chin with his gloved fingers.

Xiao tried to initiate slowly, but you smashed your lips against his immediately, stumbling both you back a little, but his other hand slid around your waist, whilst you wrapped your arms around his neck. You felt his smile as you kissed him, which he returned with equal passion.

You slowly pulled way from him, opening your eyes before smiling, "That means, I like you too."

"You're one piece of work." Xiao stated as you retract your arms, ready to go back to baking. "It makes me understand why I'm not the only one who likes you." You freezed at his words, looking back at him like he's grown another head.

"W-what?"

"Morax, he's quite fond of you too, butterfly."

Butterfly, you almost melt at that. Wait, that's not the point, the Zhongli "Morax"? Fond of you too?

Your now lover (hehe, lover) chuckles, although it does not contain any malice or jealousy, unlike how you'd imagine a person to react when they find out another person likes their lover.

"You mean like, friends fondness, right?"

"No." The Yaksha shakes his head.

"How would you know that...?" You quietly asked, still having doubts about what you said. Xiao slides your loose hair behind your ear before cupping your face.

"He acts the same way I do around you." But in your eyes, that still wasn't proof that Zhongli likes likes you. Besides, aren't you only supposed to have one love interest?

"But maybe that's just how he normally is. Why are you so sure?" You questioned him even more.

"Do you feel like you really want him to be here with us right now?" Xiao asked you instead, it's like he was reading your mind or something, you did kind of wish he was here.

You just nodded, not trusting your voice anymore. You looked down to your hands, wiping them clean with a towel.

"You miss him when he's not around, trust him the most, you feel comfortable around him..." You nodded at his words again, not sure where he's getting at. "Then you like him too." You're eyes widen at Xiao's words, your mouth dropping in shock.

"...Xiao, I like you." You explained to him, yet the lingering feeling that maybe he was right started embedding itself within you. He just sighs, before gently holding your hands.

"You can--" He can't help but look down and shake his head. "I can't believe I'm actually the one doing all the talking." You giggled at his little comment, although the feeling of confliction didn't seize.

"Zhongli confessed to me last night, all about how he felt about you. Why he's not actually here today." Xiao finally said, gently caressing your hand with his thumb. "But I forced him to come today." You were a little surprised, Xiao, who would stop at nothing to serve the Geo Archon, actually went against the Archon's wishes. However, you're even more surprised that the mentioned man walked into the Wangshu Inn kitchen, and you already know that he's heard everything.

"Mr. Zhongli!" You try to act normal, but being bombarded with your own conflicting feelings were talking a toll on you. "Uhm..."

Xiao let go of your hands as the older man stood in front of both of you.

"Do you like me, Y/N?" Zhongli asks, despite his sincere smile, you felt the nervousness that courses within him, the same nervousness flowing within you.

You think about this really hard. You've had feelings for Xiao for a very long time, but through all that time, maybe there was another love that sprout without your notice, because you always believed that you could only love one. Both of them have been there your entire immortal life, all of you working side by side to make sure that each of you and Liyue is safe from harm. In all your years of pining, you realized, you crave for both of them when they're not with you, the moment doesn't seem as special without both of them, they're the most important people in your life.

You could never choose one over the other.

Looking up at another pair of golden orbs, you slowly nodded, grabbing one hand of each of your most beloved people in the entire universe.

"I think... I know that I love both of you so much." You smiled as you took both their hands close to your chest.

Zhongli then proceeded to kiss you too, a quick sweet kiss on the lips.

You jumped, "Oh, I forgot about my cookies." Letting go of both their hands, you go back to tending to your treats. "I hope my two favorite people can help taste test after I'm done."

"Of course."

"I'll try it."

You let out a cheerful chuckle, this was probably the most confusing but happiest day of your eternal life.

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Requested by: @amethystrain77

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #xiao #xiao fluff #zhongli fluff

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quixotin · 4 years ago

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Cookie Gifts

based on this prompt

You could always tell when Marinette Dupain-Cheng liked you. She wasn't the type to tell it to you straight to your face, but if Marinette considered you a friend, it was obvious. She'd compliment your outfit, or help you out with an assignment you didn't understand, she'd encourage you to pursue your passions, she'd cheer for you when you did, she'd stand up for you and show you how to do it for yourself, and most of all, she would always find little gifts to give you. Almost always crafted by her own hands.

Take Alya, for example, who had multiple friendship bracelets, jewelry, drawings, mittens, and all kinds of cute little trinkets Marinette always found the time to confection for her. Or Nino, whom she customized a cap for and always brought him freshly baked pain au chocolat, knowing that those were his favorite. Or to an extent, even Adrien, who cherished the lucky charm she had gifted him and perhaps was the most aware of Marinette's adorable tendency to create things for her friends, even though he had received the least amount of gifts. As Adrien, that is. Chat Noir was a different story.

Chat Noir had developed the questionable habit of paying Marinette a few visits here and there when it was his turn to patrol alone. He knew Ladybug would probably scold him for interacting with civilians like this, but in his defense, it was almost as if Marinette was trying to lure him into visiting him.

Ever since that first time he visited her, craving some company to lighten his broken heart, he had developed a certain curiosity. At least that's what he liked to call it. Plagg wouldn't agree.

Much in the way as in that first time, the second time he dropped by, he did not find Marinette sadly looking at the sky but he did manage to startle her nonetheless. He had found her watering her plants and after a quick, blushing exchange, Marinette pulled his tail before he took off, snipped a blooming red tulip, and stuck her hand out to him.

"For you," she said, a rosy blush lightly pigmenting her cheeks.

Chat, unable to help his own flustered reaction at such a sweet gesture, gingerly took the flower, gave her a shy smile, and fled.

The next time this happened, she told him to wait and quickly disappeared into her house resurfacing a few minutes later with a cellophane bag full of tiny pistachio-green macaroons. The third time, she had knitted mittens for him. The fourth, she had given him a "lucky charm" made of green and black beads, teasing him that it ought to repel all the bad luck he had, being a black cat and all.

"I didn't know the princess liked to pun," Chat said, trying to sound suave but being altogether too flustered and endeared to do it with any success.

And so this was how Chat Noir--Adrien-- began his proud collection of Marinette's little presents. He had to admit there was a certain satisfaction to knowing he would probably pass Alya soon if he kept visiting Marinette as much as he did. He was especially proud of the fact he didn't have one but two lucky charms. How many do you have, Alya? That's what I thought, he'd always think happily to himself when he admired his pair of lucky charms side by side.

But then something curious started happening, something that worried Chat.

Ladybug started doing the same.

She didn't knit fluffy gloves or brought him garden flowers, but she took to the habit of bringing him pastries when they patrolled together. Chat Noir thought to himself one of two things was happening here: Either Ladybug was trying to pull a Pavlov conditioning on him, or she had found out about his visits with Marinette and was somehow jealous of her.

It didn't matter how many times he thanked her and reassured her she didn't need to feed him every time she saw him, Ladybug would always shrug and say, "Just a little treat, for being such a great partner."

He supposed he was paying for the rose-giving karma of his past in tasty carbohydrates. To her benefit, though, if Ladybug brought him gifts to get his attention the way Marinette had captured it, she never showed her disappointment at his thankful, yet carefully demure reactions. It was more than what could be said of his disappointment at how terrible he was at getting Marinette's attention in his civilian persona.

Marinette, while being everyone's darling, had always seemed on edge when she talked to him. He had never brought himself to find an explanation, much less when one day, unprompted, Marinette stopped acting so nervous around him. Suddenly she was just as confident, and sassy, and playful as with the rest of her friends. And while Adrien was absolutely thrilled about this, it also meant that he had stopped receiving that extra Marinette attention he had seemed to take for granted until then.

"I'll bring cookies for everyone tomorrow," she told Alya one indistinct day as the school day was coming to a close.

"Ohh, what flavor? You know I love those soft ones, right? The ones with the chocolate chips?"

Marinette laughed. "I'll make sure to make a batch of those, but I was thinking more about doing frosted ones."

"You're bringing cookies tomorrow?" Nino said, excited and turning around his seat to face the girls. Adrien seized the opportunity to do the same.

"Yup. Anything in particular you want?"

"Not really," said Nino. "All the stuff you bring from the bakery is literally the best."

"You're so thoughtful, Marinette," Adrien said, trying his best to hide his blush as he spoke. "But isn't it a lot of work?"

"Not really," Marinette said with a friendly smile. "I'm very used to making them, I help my parents all the time."

"Oh, yeah, heh... Forgot about that," he replied, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "I've never made cookies so I have no idea what it's like."

"Really? Never?"

Adrien shook his head.

Marinette tapped her lips with her index finger. "I suppose... if you want to learn you could help me out. If you have time, that is."

"Yes!" Adrien said immediately, not even bothering to check whether he had anything booked for the afternoon. Either way, unless it was a photo shoot, he was more than willing to ditch his activities in favor of spending the afternoon with Marinette.

Once at the bakery, wearing an apron and all, Marinette carefully prepared the dough for the first batch of cookies, showing Adrien the proportions he needed to use to prepare the second batch. Thankfully she was a patient teacher and was able to help him even when he messed up his first attempt. Once he got the hang of it, they developed a system where Marinette prepared the dough, Adrien molded it and cut it into shape in the trays, and Marinette put them in the oven.

He discovered Marinette was not necessarily the chatterbox she usually was when her hands were busy. Instead, she slipped into a concentrated silence, with her tongue slightly poking out the right corner of her mouth and occasionally humming to the songs she played on her phone.

Adrien had to take monumental efforts not to be distracted by how adorable she looked.

When they moved to the process of frosting the cookies, he distinctly noticed how she prevented him from putting a particular batch with the rest of them. Even more intriguing, while Adrien was busy decorating, Marinette took particular attention to the batch she had separated.

"Those look nicer," Adrien pointed out, interrupting Marinette's concentration, and noticing with a bit of envy how she had masterfully decorated her batch with tiny frosting cats.

"They're for a friend," she explained but added nothing more as she went back to work.

Oh, what Adrien would have given to know who those cookies were for! His heart skipped a bit after indulging in a selfish, yet delightful thought. Maybe they're for Chat Noir! He thought excitedly, making a point of visiting her that night. Imagine his surprise, however, when his time for patrolling came around and found Marinette was already asleep when he passed by her balcony.

Feeling a bit defeated and even more curious than before, he resigned to complete his route and vault back home.

Maybe the cookies were for someone else? Someone at school? No, they were not, he realized feeling more relieved than he wanted to admit the next morning when Marinette came into school carrying the box of cookies. He inconspicuously snuck a glance at the box to see if he could spot them, or if Marinette carried a second, smaller box, but his enterprise was fruitless.

He eventually shook away the thought, berating himself for wanting to intrude in Marinette's privacy and forcing himself to let go of the subject, as tempting as it was to keep imagining who those damn cookies were for.

The topic had all but vanished by the time he met Ladybug for patrol when the silly cookies made it to the front of his attention again.

Wrapped in the usual cellophane bag, Ladybug beamed at him and stuck out her hand. "For you," she said, offering him the cat-themed cookies.

Chat Noir took them feeling how his heart demanded to be let out of his chest if only to proclaim how impossibly happy he was.

"Thank you, my lady," he said, using the nickname he had been careful not to call her anymore, aware of the fact his face was possibly blushing redder than Ladybug's suit.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #ficlet #prompt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #love square #fluff #adrinette #marichat #ladynoir

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

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Knitting You a Home - 7

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 3,158

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - Rated PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Discussion of cheating - Discussion of a child being abandoned in the past.

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

You barely looked up from your knitting as the timer on your phone shrieked in the kitchen, declaring that the cookies were done baking. At least this batch was. It was day two of the vacation Grandmother insisted you take and already you were out of your mind.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the perfume that Namjoon had come home wearing, you spent the entire day yesterday cleaning; all of his clothes were immediately tossed in the laundry first. It was satisfying when the shirt he had worn that night no longer had a citrus scent to it, but reminded you of the lavender fabric softener you loved.

By the time midnight came, the whole house was clean. Not that it was filthy, but there were a few things that had been pushed back by both of you due to work, and perhaps some laziness when it was late and the last thing you wanted to do was be an adult. Unlike the night before, Namjoon didn’t come home early.

He wasn’t home by the time you fell asleep either.

There were a few minutes this morning when he came to give you a kiss goodbye before heading out to work, and even though he chuckled at your attempts to coax him back to bed, in less than five minutes he was once again gone, and you were left alone. For years you had lived in this house alone, but with Namjoon gone, it hauntingly quiet. There was a window in the bedroom that looked out to the front of the house, and as you curled up on his side of the bed to be surrounded by his warmth that lingered, you watched his figure grow smaller as he walked off in the sunrise. It wasn’t until that he was gone that you tried to go back to sleep.

Sleep evaded you though and within an hour you were – regrettably – wide awake and on your third cup of coffee. Since there was no rush, you brewed up coffee grounds instead of the instant k-cups, the kitchen now scented in the smell of your favorite dark roast.

With the cleaning all done, the newfound free time and silence allowed you to think about the very last thing you wanted to even dwell on. All you had to do was ask Namjoon about the perfume, but each time the thought crossed your mind, your throat felt like it was closing up and it became harder to breathe.

So, you turned to one of the other few things that you were good at to take your mind off it. Baking.

That had been at eight thirty.

The timer rang out again so you set your knitting back on the couch, deciding to count the stitches when you came back. You tapped the stop button on your phone, silence once again filling the house as you opened up the oven, the heat hitting you right in the face as you carefully took out a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

It was only after you set the hot tray on a cooling rack that there was a loud knock on the door. You frowned in confusion, grabbing your phone to check the time. It wasn’t even noon. Standing by the table, a smile slowly grew as a single person came to mind and you hurried the rest of the way to the doorway, not surprised at who was leaning against your door-frame, but that she was here.

“You can only imagine my surprise,” Luna greeted, grinning at you. “When I went to Grandmother’s shop only find out that little Red, was back at home on vacation.”

Gleefully laughing, you pulled Luna in by her hands, tightly hugging her as she returned the gesture. Unable to let go of each other, the two of you waddled backwards into your home as she kicked the door shut for you.

“She insisted that I take a vacation,” you answered. It was only then that you broke the hug, “What are you doing here?”

Luna rolled her eyes, the easy smile still present. “As surprising as it might be, I do have my days off from the Homeless Center.”

You leaned back in suspicion, only to break out into giggles once more. “You caught me in the middle of baking, so come on.” Walking back to the kitchen, you began to transfer the cookies onto the cooling rack. “Is it a tea or coffee day for you Luna?”

“Coffee.”

Pointing at the pot with the spatula, you set the now empty tray on the counter next to the remaining bowl of dough. “Already brewed. Make me a fresh cup too?”

She already knew where everything was. Her visits tended to last hours, and over the years, your home had become a place where Luna knew that she was always welcomed to come to, whether it was early morning or late at night.

“Either you’ve decided to run a bakery inside your house, or something happened,” Luna said, barely glancing at you as she refilled your signature blue mug, taking a black one for herself. Instead of sitting back at the table, she leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands as she watched you move the wire rack to the table for the time being.

You hummed in amusement, focusing on scooping out more dough. When she didn’t say anything else, you glanced up, seeing the knowing expression on her face as she waited. It was the same one you’ve given her countless time when she came over at odd hours in the early morning.

“What’s wrong,” Luna prodded again. “You’ve made what…six batches of cookies, and a dozen muffins?”

Shrugging, you put the tray in the oven and set the timer on your phone. “I’m bored and love to bake.”

“Yes, but you’re over-baking. The last time you did this was when Sue came back.” Raising the mug to her lips, she gave you a pointed look. “I still have banana bread in my freezer from you.”

Your body tensed at the mention of Sue, easily recalling the multiple times that Namjoon had come into the kitchen, nuzzling your neck as he hugged you in an attempt to get you to stop baking for the night and come to bed.

Luna gently touched your shoulder, your grip on the counter tightening right before loosening up. “What’s wrong?”

Taking your coffee, you barely met her gaze as you sat at the table. Luna settled down across from you without another word.

“It’s Namjoon,” you finally answered. Giving Luna a weak smile, you traced the rim of your mug. “He’s been, acting different. Ever since Sue.”

“Different how?”

You shook your head. If there was anyone who might know what was happening, it’d be Luna. She worked directly with Hybrids every day; it was bound that she’d pick up knowledge on their habits over time.

“At first, he was overprotective and there was an increase in skin ship, but then it went back to normal when Hoseok and Sarah were reunited, then it changed again. It was like hitting reverse. He isn’t affectionate anymore, or if he is it’s only a little bit. He’s at the studio working all the time, comes home late. I basically never see him these days. Last night he even…”

Your eyes stung, voice halting as it finally hit you. The entire time you’ve only been thinking about, about the possibilities of what was turning Namjoon away. Never once did you speak it out loud because you hoped that things would have gone back to normal.

“He even what?” Luna gently asked.

Bottom lip trembling, it felt like your heart was breaking, the Mate Mark on your neck suddenly feeling like a weight on your shoulders. Namjoon…he had asked you so many times if this was what you wanted. To seal the bond between the two of you, guaranteeing a life time with each other and that when it was done, you’d never be able to see another man romantically again. Namjoon was your one and only.

“He came home,” you slowly spoke, trying to catch your breath. “reeking of another woman’s perfume.”

Through blurry eyes, Luna’s face shifted into understanding as she moved her chair next to you, her cup softly setting on the table. “Oh God, don’t cry honey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

You thought you set your mug on the table, but apparently it had been closer to the edge than you originally thought and it crashed to the wooden floor, coffee pooling onto the floorboards but neither of you rushed to clean it. Instead, you leaned into Luna’s hug, your hands gripping her shirt as she rubbed circles into your back.

She didn’t stop you, didn’t say that your tears were useless. Luna simply waited, letting you cry until no more tears were able to leak out, even if it meant having your voice go hoarse. As grateful as you were that Luna was here, a part of you wished that it had been Namjoon who came to comfort you, even if he was the reason for your tears.

When they finally stopped, you sat up, rubbing at your eyes with the heel of your hands. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Luna shook her head, reaching over to grab a napkin. “You’ve been there for me, for every phone call and visit in the middle of the night. You have nothing to apologize for.” Handing you the napkin, she watched to make sure that you were done crying before cleaning up the broken mug.

Still, guilt swirled around inside you as you wiped at your eyes, trying to calm down. It felt like a bat was breaking every bone and bruising all your organs to say out loud what you’ve been thinking. That Namjoon had possibly considered, or even acted on cheating on you.

When she returned, she wiped away a few tears that you had missed. “I know it hurts hun. Have you talked to Namjoon about it?”

“When?” You weakly asked. “When can I ask him? He’s never home long enough for us to even talk.”

“True,” Luna agreed. “But how will you ever know the truth?” Licking her lips, she leaned back in her seat. “Do you want my honest opinion about all this?”

You nodded with a sniff. Now that you finally spoke your thoughts, you needed someone to tell you the truth. The last thing you wanted was for someone to just play along with your worries and let it continue to hurt you. Luna was always there to tell you the truth, even if it hurt because if it did, she was by your side to help carry it the weight.

“Namjoon explained to you about the Mate Mark, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you know that Hybrids have only one true Mate that they’re destined to be with.” Luna smiled at you, leaning forward to gently tap the Mate Mark on you neck.

When she did it, you merely flinched at the sudden touch. It wasn’t like when Namjoon touched or kissed it, and it sent tingles running through your nerves and a warm fire in your heart. It was, strange to have someone else but Namjoon touch it.

But Luna did it again, a gentle smile appearing on her face. “Wolf Hybrids especially believe this considering the DNA they share in addition to all the lore around werewolves, their animal counterparts heighten the desire for a one true partner. Now I know that it took Namjoon a while for him to realize that you were his Mate, but when he did…honey the bond took effect immediately.”

Wetting her lips, Luna leaned back in her seat, trying to find the right words to explain this. “He is so in love with you. Even before he gave you his Mark, when you took him in and showed him what it was like to be with someone who cared, the bond between the two of you formed and grew stronger than anything I’ve seen before.”

“But the perfume…”

She shook her head, unable to come up with an answer that would chase away those fears. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone at the studio that wears an unhealthy amount of perfume? What I do know, is that Namjoon would never consider cheating on you. Hurting you is the last thing he’d ever want to do. You have to talk to him about this, it’s not healthy to keep this all bottled up” Luna glanced over your shoulder, smiling in disbelief. “Nor is it healthy for those of us who will end up eating all these treats.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you chuckled at her joke, knowing that the moment you ran out of cookie dough you were moving on to brownies.

Her words swirled in your mind and as relieved as you were to hear someone else say what you knew was true in your heart, it only made you wonder what was really going on. Was what happened with Hoseok, having this much of an impact on Namjoon that he was already preparing for the two of you to be separated? Just like they had been?

You stayed quiet as Luna wrapped her arms around you like a blanket. Just like you’ve done for her, time and time again without fail.

“Can…can I talk to you?”

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see Luna staring at her untouched mug, her gaze seemingly going through the tea you had made.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” you asked, gently smiling in an attempt to bring her back from wherever her mind was racing to.

It worked a little bit, but when she looked up at you, her eyes were overflowing with tears. You dragged your chair next to hers, coaxing Luna to rest her head on your shoulder as you hugged her. It had been a while since her last late-night visit and you were surprised that she had stopped by with Namjoon staying with you. But you would never turn her away.

Even though she asked to talk, she didn’t speak.

Wetting your lips, you ran a hand through her hair. “Was it a work thing, or a relationship thing?” You softly asked. Depending on which it was, you might have to go explain to Namjoon that Luna was staying the night.

“A work thing,” she croaked out. You relaxed your arms enough for her to turn, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of your neck. Wet tears slid down your neck to your shoulder as she shook in your embrace, her cries growing in volume even as she tried to reign it in.

“He’s not even a year old,” Luna cried, her voice breaking as she attempted to talk through it. “I…I was throwing out the garbage when they suddenly drove up. She dropped him in-in my arms and ran off.”

Your eyes closed as you pieced together her sentences, your own emotions wanting to take control. But you couldn’t. One of you had to be strong for the other.

“He wasn’t even crying. It was like he thought they were coming back for him.”

There had been a time when you asked Luna why she continued to work at the Homeless Center for Hybrids all these years. It had been after she told you a story similar to this one, but it had been with a Hybrid girl who was in her early teens. Luna had a heart of gold and despite the fact that the Hybrids who entered the Center were there because they had nowhere else to go, and had a reason to be upset and angry with humans, she gave it her all to go the extra mile and make their time there filled with hope.

Suddenly feeling a hand on your shoulder – Luna’s were still wrapped around your waist – you blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to see Namjoon standing next to you. He had reached the point of being comfortable enough for the occasional hug and touch, but that was when you usually asked him. This was the first time he had touched you.

His eyes weren’t guarded and his ears were lowered against his head, a tell-tale sign that he had overheard. Instead of speaking, he glanced at Luna before walking into the living room to grab the throw blanket that was over the couch. His footsteps were silent when he came back, gently covering Luna with the blanket and you as well.

Luna lifted her head at the touch of the blanket, wiping away her tears as she gazed up at Namjoon with watery eyes. Namjoon simply crouched down, his hand holding on to the chair to maintain his balance.

“It’s better to have something like this, happen when he’s young.” Namjoon softly spoke, capturing both of your attentions. “I’m not saying what happened was good, it’s a terrible thing no matter how you look at it. But he won’t remember it, not like how a lot of Hybrids do. All we can do is hope that he’ll get adopted into a loving family, who will treat and raise him the way he deserves, so that he will never have to remember this day.”

Even though the situation was serious, you were in awe of how Namjoon was able to comfort Luna. Despite being friends with Luna for years, some of the stories she’s told you left you speechless and unable to think of the right thing to say. But Namjoon, he found the words immediately.

“I’ll talk to him,” you whispered, shaking your mind from the memory. Covering your mouth, you coughed in an attempt to clear your throat and bring your voice back.

Luna let you move out of her arms, a gentle smile appearing as she watched you nod in determination, even repeating yourself as you wiped your eyes for the last time. She knew that you would, that you

’d eventually decide on talking to him. You weren’t the type to let things just…settle in the mud. You were strong, but sometimes you needed an ear to listen to your fears and a voice to lead you in the direction that you knew you needed to go in.

Sometimes, you just needed that little push.

“Good,” Luna agreed. Reaching out, she took two cookies from the cooling tray and handed one to you. “But first, let’s test out these bad boys. Okay?”

Staring at the cookie, you suddenly chuckled as you took it, taking a bite out of it. It was soft and warm, and you knew that Namjoon would be going straight to these when he came home. Chocolate chip cookies were his absolute favorite after all. Maybe then you’d be able to talk to him.

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silverkoushi · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! | read pt.2 here! ⇢ feat. : suga, hinata, & kageyama (karasuno) x gn!reader ⇢ wc & warnings: 1.7k, none ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ this is me trying to psych myself up for the holidays aha... thinkin of doing more if i get the inspo and make it in time ><

sugawara koushi ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ the holiday spirit with him is unsurprisingly soft and domestic!! he’s the kind of guy that loves to uphold traditional celebrations like the holidays, your birthdays, new years— things like that because it’s important for him to create memories that you can look back on many years later. you bet the holiday decorations will be up mid-november, so once you see him struggling to hang multi-colored lights along the exterior of your house, you have no choice but to laugh at him at first but eventually help him out!! his cheerfulness and child-like excitement nearing the holidays becomes contagious so the two of you start matching everything: penguin sweaters, (ugly but comfortable) red/green pajamas, mugs that have those cringey couple labels on them— basically, you name it, you and suga have two versions of it to wear/use!! suga would be in an extra-baking mood, too!!

if there’s a holiday party (probably at the school he’s teaching at) that you would be attending with him, suga will volunteer to be in charge of baked goodies! sugar cookies, brownies, donuts with cinnamon sugar, maybe even a raspberry choco cake roll?? the possibilities are endless with your pastry chef of a man, and ofc you make it your duty to help him out in the kitchen!! baking til 2 or 3am, sometimes just goofing off with the flour, cookie dough on the tips of your noses, and suga stealing a kiss (or a lick) here and there. all the while your favorite holiday playlist hums in the background of your colorfully lit home, pictures of the two of you hanging around a tree, santa hats bouncing up and down atop your heads the way you dance everywhere, his arms snug around your waist. while you wait for the last batch of cookies in the oven, suga has already prepared his original hot cocoa for the two of you, making sure he adds extra mini marshmallows in your elf mug tonight— you sit by the couch overlooking the decorated frenzy of your surroundings. and you know you made the right choice spending it with him. :) when the actual party happens, o god the kids love you!! calls you his partner for lifey!! sth cute like that and u don’t know if suga taught them that or they just made it up lol either way, you’re so very excited to see how the love of ur life interacts with his students as, you guessed it, he’s so so good with them!! they run up to him, bouncing up and down just to get a bite of his baked goodies and while he’s handing them out, he also gives them a handwritten card. for each n every one of them!! when did he do that?? you question to yourself, but when he seesn you giving him an incredulous look, he just sheepishly smiles and says, “when you fell asleep on the couch last night, i wrote them last minute.” o,, that’s why when you woke up, u don’t even remember lying down in the bed but you surmise suga had carried you all the way there too :’)

they sing a lot of holiday songs, play those party games like trip to jerusalem or once the music stops, you have to stop dancing or you’re out type of game and just overall lots of fun filled moments and you feel thankful for witnessing such a pure, innocent sight right around the holidays!! ofc once it’s all done and he bids them goodbye with a hug, a hi five or a pat on the head, suga doesn’t forget about you and puts up a mini mistletoe by the door when everyone had left. he has that teasing smirk on his face and you’d do more than just kiss him bec of it but uh, you’re still in the classroom so you give in with a chaste yet sweet kiss on his lips. he returns it a little deeper, but you push his chest off playfully, and boop! him on the nose. “later, sir,” you reprimand lightly, yet cheeks blushing at your interaction with him in his workplace. he shows that toothy grin, and intertwines ur fingers together as u walk to your car and finally spend more time together again <333 his most favorite part of this season!!

hinata shouyo ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ be prepared for a very hyper and energetic holiday week with this guy!! imagine you two are still in college, he has a break from playing professional volleyball to spend these times with his family. and he chooses to spend most of those days with you!! he is actually very excited to bring you home to meet his mom and (not-so) little sister, and it’s very nerve-wracking knowing that it’s an important holiday for them to be together as a family— and then you’re just gonna crash it like that??? BUT sho doesn’t see it that way! he already sees you as a person he’ll definitely experience even more holidays the next year, and the one after that, but in order to ease up the anxiety that has been building up in your system, he tells you of his extravagant plans for the two of you before going back to his parents’ house!! think amusement parks in the winter, ice skating in frozen lakes, walking on boardwalks with two styrofoam cups of hot choco for him, and a peppermint mocha for you!!

o, and if there’s some downtime with your adventure, he’ll drag you outside where the snow is ankle deep, tells you to take a picture of him in the cold, earmuffs hugging the sides of his temple so warmly that you find so adorable. you’re about to pull your phone out until you feel cold, wet, melting ice smacked onto your cheek!! “SHO, WHAT THE HECK—” you don’t even have time to protest because WHACK, one more snowball, but he missed and it got to your jacket this time. luckily, your phone was still okay but your boyfriend definitely won’t be once you find him as he had started running, your voice calling out to his name in the breezy wind. so that whole afternoon, you were seen having a ridiculous snowball fight around campus (you guys stayed in the dorms until you were ready to leave), laughing when you threw one directly at his open, cackling mouth. shouyo started choking on the snowball, but you were still wiping tears from your eyes at the hilarity of the situation. “STOTPF IM LITERALYLYL DYUINGGG” “don’t be ridiculous” “JDFSKFDJH” and that’s when you actually run towards him, patting his back rather forcefully because oh god what if you did make him choke and his family won’t have a son coming home this time around?!

while you worry in your head, shouyo had already tackled you to the ground, snow engulfing your bodies together. “let’s take a picture here, this is the perfect spot!” he’d chuckle, peppering you with winter kisses, sending shivers down your arms not just because they were cold but also wow, you’re so lucky to be with a guy like him during this season. suddenly, you anticipate meeting his family :)

kageyama tobio

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ you know what you’re very excited for that kags isn’t? his birthday falls on the week of christmas, and any other normal person would just think, “ah, i can just combine his gifts into one!” but for you that’s a big no-no. and kageyama knows it, and he’s flustered and shy because everyone in his life up until the point he’s met you had always just given him a 1 for 2 type of gift. not that he minded, that’s all he’s ever known in his life so when you promised him a big birthday bash and a special holiday gift, he’s scared for what’s to come,,, although, you know he’s not big on surprises or bigger gatherings, but you wanted to see his reaction as to how you planned it all out! in reality, you just wanted to spend precious time with your bf on his bday and an early christmas before he leaves to go visit his family :(

after tiring hours of vball practice and finals (he’s gotten better at studying, don’t underestimate this guy!) he sleeps in on the day of his birthday, not even realizing the night prior he’s turning a year older that day!! you creep up to his dorm with the spare key he has given you, place the milk and berries cake you ordered yesterday on his desk, and surreptitiously clasp the paper birthday hat on his sleeping head. the guy doesn’t even stir!! stifling your laughter, you pull out your phone and snap a picture of him and you together, your lips puckering to kiss his cheek and— you forgot to turn your phone into silent mode! apparently the click was loud enough for his eyes to flutter open, and when he realizes you’re next to him he feels a sense of relief, but at the same time the rubber around his face became bothersome… only when you start singing happy birthday did it dawn on him… and he can’t get mad, it’s you, how can he??

you eat a piece of the milk n berries creme cake on his bed, talking about the day you’re gonna spend with him.. and you ask what he wants to do bec it’s his special day!! this gets him blushing since he thought you had this elaborate party with lots of people come, and now he feels guilty and grateful as to how thoughtful you’re being for him… he asks if he can sneak in a practice session for vball for at least an hour and you agree, guessing that would’ve come up sooner or later. anyway, aside from that his birthday was spent strolling around the town center near campus, snow underneath your boots and snowflakes showering your hair,,, he places his beanie on yours so it doesn’t get messed up and you thank him with a nose kiss… rudolph, is that you??

you take him to shops so you can buy matching sweaters <3 and he OBLIGES, seeing the gleeful expression in your eyes and smile, how can he resist the beauty radiating off you today? this is the best birthday gift he can ask for. you end the day by grabbing some milk tea, spending the rest of the night getting cozy under blankets, and watching cheesy romcoms to which kags just shields his eyes away… the embarrassment!! >< you end up sleeping in his arms, the ending credits with christmas music playing in the background. the next day, you both wear your holiday outfits (he has polar bear and yours is a panda!!) and take lots of pictures bec you know you’ll miss him when he goes back home :(( he immediately makes one of the selfies u took as his lockscreen: the two of you squish yourselves in between the snowman you both created. your face is lit up with utmost happiness, and kags is just looking at you with a loving grin to his smile as well. :)

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plainbrunettelbl · 5 years ago

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ABO (A) Fatgum Toyomitsu Taishiro x (O) Reader A Bitter Reality

Word count: 1888

Warnings: Mentions of depression and death.

Title: ABO (A) Fatgum Toyomitsu Taishiro x (O) Reader A Bitter Reality

Summary: Fatgum is in love with a sweet baker but it is not meant to be.

(Gif is not)

🍬-You built this place together. He handled that more financial side of things while you were the face of the businesses. Baking pastries and mingling with customers was your area.

🍬-You loved seeing your customers come in and leave with a smile on their face. You took pride in your sweet treats and loved to watch other people enjoy them. That’s why a certain hero was your favorite customer.

🍬-You didn’t care about the insane amount of money he spent coming here each week. You loved his brilliant smile and radiant personality. Fatgum always lit up the room when you heard the door jingle and his tall frame walked in.

🍬-It wasn’t his yellow jacket making him stand out.

🍬-You loved his eyes dancing over your menu and the little arguments with himself over what to get. He would always end up choosing both things and ordering a dozen to sit down and eat with.

🍬-He even had his own table. He would sit closest to the front counter where you stood at and talk to you about nothing an everything. You enjoyed his visits so much.

🍬-He loved to bite into an iced cupcake and launch into an array of different compliments on why it was the best in town. He would try and charm his way into getting you to make some of his favorite sweets.

🍬-You always caved and made a batch especially for him. You couldn’t resist his golden eyes and his lovable smirks.

🍬-He was only able to come twice a week because of his busy schedule. You waited for Mondays and Fridays to hear his cheerful voice. That’s why when your Alpha, the person you built this place with, told you he was ending the lease on the building and walking away with the money you were devastated.

🍬-Not only was he cheating on you and that broke your poor Omegas heart but he was taking away the bakery you so preciously built up. You were on a small high from Tai’s presence that Monday afternoon and didn’t expect your whole world to be shattered that whole night.

🍬-Your Alpha packed his bags and left.

🍬-The bakery had a small apartment on the second floor which you and your alpha lived in. Well, now you were the only one living in it. If you could call it living. You had gone straight to your nest and stayed there.

🍬-You were too broken to continue.

🍬-You had lost your mate and your bakery. He didn’t even have the decency to reject you properly so your bond was slowly deteriorating and causing your body to terrible pains. Your bones felt like they were screaming at you.

🍬-It didn’t matter. You were gonna die soon anyway. A rejected Omega was as good as a dead Omega. Most didn’t survive. Some did if they had love and support from people that cared about them, but you had no one.

🍬-Your Alpha had made you isolate yourself from anyone that wasn’t him. You had no friends to call or family to contact. You were alone.

🍬-The first few days you tried to fight the depression. You didn’t want your asshole of an Alpha to win. It was brave on your part but it was too much to suppress on your own.

🍬-So your twice a day trip to the kitchen to throw something quick and easy into your stomach dwindled to once a day and then you stopped trying altogether. You still tried to drink a little water but it wasn’t enough.

🍬-You felt your body begin to weaken. You welcomed the darkness that threatened to take you. You wished you had a chance to see Tai’s shining smile before you closed your eyes one last time but you knew fate didn’t seem to favor you anymore.

🍬-So with a tired smile, while thinking of the soft man, you closed your heavy eyes.

***

🍬-Tai was worried. He might have only visited the bakery on Mondays and Friday’s but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t walk by on his way home from patrol. He loved to peer inside and catch your delicate frame mixing the batter for tomorrow or beating away at a stubborn batch of dough.

🍬-Seeing you adorably powdered in flour made his Alpha purr.

🍬-He knew the feelings he had were wrong. You were bonded to another Alpha. He had seen him a handful of times during his visits. He left a bad taste in his mouth and made him want to growl at the offending man.

🍬-The only man that should be standing by your side should be him.

🍬-He was smitten since he walked through the door. He was entranced by a sweet scent he knew didn’t come from the desserts on display. Your shining eyes smiling at him from behind the counter made his world tilt.

🍬-So when he came walking by the bakery the last few days to see the lights off and kitchen untouched he had thought you had merely needed a day off or gotten sick or something.

🍬-On Friday and the bakery still wasn’t open his heart felt like it was being weighed down. He knew you lived on the second floor of the bakery from all the talks you two would have so he thought he would try knocking to see if you were okay.

🍬-He went up the stairs on the side of the building that led up to the faded white door at the top. He could smell something was off. Your usual fresh cranberry scent had taken on a sour smell.

🍬-“Y/N? I saw that the bakery was closed. Is everything okay?” He knocked, his big hands meeting the rough wood.

🍬-He heard nothing but silence in the apartment.

🍬-His heart dropped in his stomach. If you weren’t coming to the door then surely your Alpha would.

🍬-“Y/N, can you hear me? It’s Tai.” He called out, knocking more loudly.

🍬-He didn’t wait a third time. Technically he was breaking and entering and that went against his Hero status but he didn’t care. Without a second thought, he used his quirk to absorb the door and tore it off its hinges.

🍬-He shoved it aside and walked into the apartment.

🍬-He almost retched at the sour smell. His eyes danced across the living room looking for the source. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. He moved farther into the apartment and noticed the scent seemed to intensify getting closer to the hall.

🍬-What could smell so horrible that it wasn’t something rotting in the kitchen?

🍬-He was afraid to find out but didn’t allow himself to turn back. His beautiful baker could be in trouble. He stood in front of the door that leeched out the bitter smell.

🍬-“Y/N? Are you in there?” He asked, softly knocking so not to scare her.

🍬-When you didn’t respond within five seconds he turned the knob and pushed inside. He wished he didn’t. He wished your still form laying on the bed wasn’t forever burned into his memory.

🍬-He could tell from the pale color of your lips and waxy complexion you were already gone. Right then he did drop to his knees and hurl. He lifted his watery eyes up at your frozen form.

🍬-“Y/N.” He croaked, not finding the energy to stand as he crawled his way to your side.

🍬-“Y/N? Omega? Are you okay?” He knew he words were in vain, his warm hands meeting your icy cheek.

🍬-He could swear he was imagining things. Maybe he was in a battle that went wrong and he is in some sort of twisted nightmare brought on by a villains quirk. The sweet Omega that gave him sweet desserts and even sweeter smiles wasn’t laying cold under his fingertips.

🍬-He slapped himself harshly on the face, hoping to wake up from this hellish reality. He really broke when your motionless frame didn’t move, didn’t breath. Your soft cheeks didn’t flood with color or your sparkling eyes didn’t open up for him.

🍬-He didn’t care that he wasn’t your Alpha. He felt his heart rip and tear in his chest. For once his appetite was gone. The mere thought of eating something made his stomach threaten to come back up again.

🍬-His golden eyes lost their shine. His face void of his trademark smile. His face felt heavy with grief.

🍬-He was content in cuddling with your still form and letting the same fate consume him. If you weren’t in this world then why even bother to stay here. He would search for you in the afterlife.

🍬-He would see his sweet baker in due time.

Bonus:

🍬-“Tai. Tai! Wake up.” You nudged your sleeping mate.

🍬-“Mmh? Omega?” His golden eyes slowly blinking up at you. He felt like he just had a bad nightmare but he could remember what it was about. A heaviness weight down on his chest.

🍬-“The pup wants pickles and nacho cheese dip.” You pouted, rubbing your big bump.

🍬-He let out a tired laugh, “Oh really? And why did you wake me up when we have both stocked in the kitchen.” He reached over and soft rubbed the moving bump.

🍬-“I didn’t feel like eating alone.” You explained, snuggling into his side more.

🍬-“So you woke me up so you didn’t have to?” He clarified, bringing an arm to wrap around you.

🍬-It was harder to cuddle with him because of your big belly but you managed. Nothing could keep you away from your soft Alpha. Tai leaned down to kiss you on the lips before making to get up.

🍬-“Well, then what are we waiting for? I think I have some cookies you might enjoy too.” He smiled, helping you roll out of the bed.

🍬-“Ooh. Are they chocolate chip?” You asked, waddling by his side to the kitchen.

🍬-“Nope. Sugar cookies.” He stated, pulling out your last cravings from the cupboards and placing them in front of you.

🍬-“Yum!” You beamed, opening up the pickle jar. “You know with the way this kid is eating now I think we are gonna have to lock up the cookie cabinet.” You crunched away on the tangy treat, not before dipping it in nacho sauce though.

🍬-“I don’t think anything could keep Babygum away from them, even if we bought a safe to put them in.” He chuckled, coming up behind you and pulling you into his embrace.

🍬-“You are right. He is gonna be just like his father.” Your eyes glazed, imagining a golden-haired pup munching on cookies alongside his father.

🍬-“Nope. They are gonna be just like their mother.” He argued, stealing a bite of a nacholess pickle.

🍬-“Hey!” You giggled, not angry in the slightest.

🍬-“What? It was in front of me so it was mine.” He smirked, loving the way his mates eyes crinkled when they laughed.

🍬-“Oh, so I suppose the same goes for me?” You teased, turning towards him.

🍬-“Yup. You are mine and I am yours.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss you again.

🍬-“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You hummed.

🍬-“Me either.” He said, the weight on his chest suddenly lifting.

🍬-“You better get me another pickle though.” You pointed at your empty jar.

🍬-“Of course, Sweets.”

You don’t know how close I came to actually killing you off. Luckily, I have a heart and made a bonus ending for you fluff loving fans. I honestly don’t think I made sad enough. Thoughts? 💕💕

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thomas-and-the-chocolate-factory · 5 years ago

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Thomas and the Chocolate Factory - Chapter 1

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Crossover

Summary: Remus Duke is the greatest chocolatier of all time, and after living the past few years a recluse, he decides to finally open his factory once again. And it's young orphan Thomas Sanders' dream to win a ticket and get to go! Will he win a ticket? And if he does, will he make it out alive?

Masterpost

----------

Thomas Sanders was an orphan. He’d never known his parents, and had grown up in an orphanage with the many other kids there all his life. The owners of the orphanage, Dot and Larry, weren’t very wealthy. They tried their best to keep the place in good condition and give all the children the care they needed, but with every passing day, it became more apparent that the place was facing problems.

Not all the children realised as the portions of food became smaller at meals. Thomas did. Not all the children noticed as the chocolate they got weekly as a treat changed to be a monthly treat, and then changed again to a yearly one that every kid only got on their birthday. Thomas did. Not all the children noticed as things in the orphanage like the television and furniture were sold and switched out for cheaper, second-hand stuff. Thomas did. Not all the children noticed the look of relief Dot and Larry had when a child was adopted or fostered, as it meant they had one less mouth to feed. Thomas did.

So, Thomas decided to try and help out. He got an after school job doing the paper round. It didn’t earn much, but Dot and Larry were grateful all the same.

His new job meant the boy would have to pass a certain building in his town four times a day. A building that was torture for him to be near.

This building was a chocolate factory. And it was the largest in the world.

Remus Duke, the owner, was like the local town cryptid. Many in the town were once employed at his factory, where he created the most amazing candy inventions in the world. While the Duke brand chocolate bars were the signature item, other creations included ice-cream that would never melt, gum that never loses its flavour, bubblegum that can be blown to enormous sizes without popping, and more! It was incredible!

However, other chocolatiers grew envious of Remus’ booming business and ability to create things seemingly impossible. So, they sent in spies to go undercover and learn Remus’ secrets. Soon, Slugworth was releasing the ice-cream that never melted, Fickelgruber was selling gum that never lost its flavour, and Prodnose was selling the bubblegum that could be blown to enormous sizes! Remus, panicked, fired all his workers and closed his factory forever.

Forever didn’t last very long.

One day, smoke was coming from the chimneys again. Duke products were being sold at candy stores once more. Remus’ ex-employees raced to the factory, hoping to be given their jobs back. But Remus never came out from the factory to announce his return. Ever since its closure, no one had ever gone in, and no one had ever come out. No one knew who his new workers were. Apparently, shadows appeared in the windows, but no one could ever make them out.

Thomas would give anything to go into that factory. The place had fascinated him ever since he first heard the story of it. He wanted to know how Remus created the things he did, he wanted to know who the workers were, and he wanted to have the chance to try all of the Duke products he could. The only thing he’d ever tried were the chocolate bars he got for his birthday.

That’s why it was torture for him to walk past. As he walked from the orphanage to school, from the school to the news office, from the news office to the houses subscribed to the paper, and from those houses back home, he’d pass those large gates and the smell of warm sweet chocolate would flood and override his other senses. His stomach would growl hungrily, and he’d shuffle by slowly, imagining he were eating it as well as smelling it.

Torture. But blissful torture. It was his method of escapism.

One that he really needed as food portions got smaller and smaller.

One night, he’d been getting ready for bed. Larry came into his room to say goodnight, only for Thomas to speak before he could. ��Larry? How much longer will you be able to keep the orphanage open? And where will we go when it closes?”

Larry sighed. He walked over, sitting on the end of Thomas’ bed. “... We don’t know how much longer. But there’s an orphanage in the next town over with a lot of spare rooms and in much better condition. They’ve agreed to take you all in when the time comes.”

Thomas nodded solemnly. “Okay… What about you and Dot? What are you going to do?”

“Dot’s probably going to go back to teaching. As for myself… I’m not that sure yet. But we’ll make do. You don’t need to worry, Thomas.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too, Thomas. But it’s okay. We’re not closing this place just yet. Now get some sleep, you have school tomorrow.”

“Okay… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Thomas. See you in the morning.”

Thomas buried himself under his thin blanket as Larry stood up, flicked off the lights, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Thomas’ eyes drifted to the window. There in the distance was the Duke factory, and the sky above it was filled with stars. And one of said stars was a shooting one, firing across the sky. As he saw it, Thomas wished with all his might that some good luck would come his way. That something would save the orphanage. That he’d get a new life and not have to go hungry anymore.

“I’m home!” Patton Gloop called through the bakery as he stepped inside. Only he shouted in German, obviously, given he lived in Germany.

His mother, Harley Gloop, poked her head through the doorway behind the counter that led to the kitchen. “Pat! Perfect timing, I just put in some cookies in to bake for you. I made an extra batch of dough with no eggs so you could eat it.”

Patton grinned, dropping his school bag. He ran behind the counter and into the kitchen, going right over to the bowl and digging in with the spoon. Mm, it was so good! He really needed this…

Patton hadn’t had the greatest day at school that day… He’d had PE, his least favourite lesson.

Patton was fat. He knew the word had bad connotations, but he didn’t think it should. He liked his body!

Well… he tried to. But it was hard to stay positive when no one else seemed to like his body.

He didn’t get bullied necessarily, but… People would tease him, call him nicknames like ‘butterball’, ‘chubs’ and things like that. He knew most people meant it in an endearing fun way, but it could still hurt sometimes.

However, one person who always meant for it to be taken seriously and hurtfully: his PE teacher. The guy was a… was a b-hole.

I know, it sounds very harsh, but it’s true. Due to Patton’s weight, he decided to force him to work a lot harder than any of the other kids. Patton would have to do exercises double time, put all the equipment away after the lesson on his own, sprint when the other students were told to jog, and jog when other students had to walk, and multiple times had been worked to the point he was physically sick. One of his best friends, Terrence, often found himself knelt beside him, comforting him as his breakfast came back up.

Little did Mr Wyatt, the PE teacher, know, said actions just enabled Patton and made him eat more. Because that’s what Patton did when sad: eat! It made him feel so much better; the delicious tastes distracted him from the bad feelings and made him feel bright and happy! Which is why he was so happy to be having this delicious cookie dough.

“So, honey, how was your day?” Harley asked, finishing up icing a cake to put in one of the display cases for the next day.

“It was good.” Patton didn’t like telling his mum what happened to him in PE. It would make her sad and angry, and he didn’t want to feel the bad feelings he did. “Terrence and I were talking about having another sleepover soon! I’m on snack duty as usual. I know both our favourites, after all. I think it’s going to be at Terrence’s this time.”

“You know what date yet?”

“Not yet. Hopefully soon, I can’t wait!”

Harley smiled, kissing his head as she passed him, taking the cake to the front of the store. “Why don’t you take that dough up with you to the apartment, get in your onesie and pick out a movie. Once the cookies are done, I’ll bring them up and we’ll watch it together.”

“Okay!” Patton picked up the bowl, running upstairs to his and his mother’s flat above the shop. It was small, but neither of them minded. It was all the two of them needed, and they were happy in it. He put the bowl down on the coffee table, before running to his room. “Hey, Toby!”

Toby, Patton’s dog, yawned awake from where he was curled up in his bed. Patton gave the dog a quick hug before going to his wardrobe and pulling out his grey cat onesie. Once he’d changed into it, he whistled for Toby to follow him, before leaving the room, returning to the lounge. He scooped up another spoonful of cookie dough, before going over to the DVD shelf.

“Hm… which one…?”

Patton looked over them a little longer, before smiling and pulling a DVD from the shelf. Winnie the Pooh was his favourite movie, but this was his favourite documentary. Well, by ‘favourite’, I mean the only one he actually liked and was interested in. It was all about the Duke factory, detailing the rise, fall and resurgence of it. Though, Patton didn't care much for the mystery side of the factory’s history. He just liked watching the candies, sweets and chocolates being produced. It looked so delicious, and always made him desperate to go out and buy a bunch of Duke chocolate - it was his favourite, after all.

Patton ran to the TV stand, putting the DVD into the player, before returning to the sofa. Toby immediately jumped up and curled up on his lap. Patton petted the dog’s head, before picking the bowl of cookie dough back up and digging back in. Soon, it was empty. With perfect timing, his mother came in holding a plate of cookies just as Patton put the bowl back on the coffee table. Harley sighed, smiling, as she saw what DVD Patton had chosen. “Why am I not surprised…?”

Patton giggled, taking a cookie from the plate. “You know how much I love Duke chocolate; it’s the best ever!” He smiled, turning back to the screen and pressing play on the remote. “I’d give anything to get a lifetime supply or see inside, or anything like that.”

That would be nice. Maybe, if he got to go and see inside, he wouldn’t be picked on anymore because everyone would want to be his friend to hear his story of what’s inside. Or, if he got a lifetime supply, everyone would want to be his friend so they could have some.

Either way, he’d get a lot of friends. And that would make him happy.

“Daddy, I’m home!”

Roman Salt called through the mansion as he stepped inside, the butler having let him in after driving him home from school. He pulled off his fur coat and handed it to said butler, waiting for his father to come in and greet him. He waited… and waited… and-

There were the footsteps. He turned to the person coming into the entrance hall, and his face soured. It was neither of his parents. Instead it was his nanny, Pryce.

“Welcome home, Roman. Now, I-”

“Where’s my father?”

Pryce sighed. “Roman, your father is on a very important business call in his office, and it will probably last for the rest of the day, so-”

“The rest of the day?!” Roman almost screeched. “My performance is tonight! He’s seriously missing it?!”

“Yes, he is. I’m sorry, Roman, but I’ll be taking you in-”

“This is unfair, he’d better be able to properly make it up to me! If not I’ll SCREAM!”

Before Pryce could respond, Roman was storming off in the direction of his dad’s office. Pryce chased after him, calling for him to stop and calm down, but Roman’s temper was a fire that could not be put out. He slammed open the door, causing his father, Romulus Salt, to almost jump out of his chair.

“YOU AREN’T COMING TO MY SHOW?!”

Romulus muttered to himself, before turning to his laptop. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He muted the call, before standing and turning to his son. “Roman, let me explain-”

“DON’T! I don’t want to hear an excuse! What I want is retribution!”

Romulus sighed, knowing what was coming. He put on a smile. “I’ll get you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Good! I want a horse. Valerie said she got one for her birthday, and they’re so much better than my stupid ponies. She may be my best friend, but I cannot let her show me up. Also, I would like a new mink coat - the fur’s getting all matted on my current one.”

“Of course, my little pri-”

“I’m not done! I want you to get a professional dressmaker to make me personal, high quality replicas of all the Disney Princess dresses. They need to be good, not like some cheap dress-up thing from a Disney store.”

“Okay, Ro, I’ll make sure you get all those things as soon as possible.”

“...Good.” Roman turned and left the office, head held high, the smuggest possible look on his face.

Once the door was closed, Romulus sighed in relief. Peace and quiet, once again. He took a moment, enjoying the calmness, before sitting back down behind his desk. He unmuted himself from the call, and returned his focus to business.

Roman, on the other hand, found Pryce once again, and gestured for him to follow him to his room. “I need to look my best for the show tonight, I need you to do my makeup. BUT!” He turned on his heels, glaring up at his nanny. “If you ruin any of my palettes, lipsticks, anything … I’ll make sure daddy has you fired.”

Pryce nodded. “Of course. I’ll be very careful, Roman, I promise.”

“You’d better hold to that promise.” Roman led the way into his bedroom, sitting down at his dressing table, which was laden with more makeup than most people would buy in a lifetime. “Right, I’m playing a prince, so I need to look as handsome as possible, obviously - though to be fair, you don’t really need to do much to make that the case. A red and gold colour scheme is best, as my costume is white, red and gold. Make sure it’s bold enough to stand out on stage, but not to the point where it’s too unnatural and weird looking.”

Pryce nodded, already planning out the look in his head. Thanks to working with Roman for so long, he was an expert at creating very high quality makeup looks and then applying them fast. The boy had very high standards, and Pryce knew if he didn’t meet them, he would be fired. And he couldn’t let that happen - the pay was extremely good. So, Pryce had to bring out his skills now, and make sure not to comment on how extreme Roman’s makeup request was for what was just an amateur school play performed by a bunch of ten and eleven year olds.

Well, Roman did like to stand out and be the centre of attention.

Eventually, Pryce finished. He stepped back as Roman turned to his mirror. Pryce waited with bated breath, before Roman hummed. “It’s acceptable.” He picked up a hairbrush and hairspray, handing them to Pryce. “Now do my hair. It needs to be neat, and enough hairspray to hold all evening, but not so much that it will take ages to wash out.”

Pryce held back a sigh, starting to brush Roman’s hair. ‘Don’t worry, Pryce…’ he thought to himself reassuringly. ‘When you finally put your creative writing degree to good use and write a book and get it published, you can quit and move away...’

Roman raised an eyebrow as he noticed Pryce wasn’t quite focussed. He folded his arms, clearing his throat. When that failed to get Pryce’s attention, his expression soured. “PRYCE! Focus!!!”

Pryce started, face flushing. “S-sorry…” He drew his focus back to what he was doing. When he was done, Roman gave a nod which translated to ‘acceptable’.

Roman stood. “We need to get going if we’re going to get there on time. You packed me a dinner to have at school, correct?”

Pryce nodded. “I’ll go grab it from the kitchen and meet you in the entrance hall.” He held the door open for Roman, letting him past. Roman didn’t thank him, heading down to the entrance hall.

“Butler!” he called. He’d never bothered to learn any of the staff’s names apart from Pryce’s, since Pryce was the one who practically raised him.

The butler came in. “Yes, Master Salt?”

“Get my coat.”

“Which one, Master Salt?”

“Hm… the leopard print one, please.”

The butler nodded, heading to the coat room. Roman’s patience wore thin very quickly, as it usually did. When the butler came back, he snatched the coat. “Took you long enough.” He pulled the coat on. “You’ll need to drive Pryce and I to school. He’ll be here in a minute.”

When Pryce finally came in, Roman snatched the bag that contained his dinner away from him immediately. “Be a little faster next time.” He opened the bag, humming as he looked over its contents. Pasta, garlic bread, and for dessert, a Duke chocolate bar. He nodded. “Acceptable. Now, let’s go!” He turned and left the mansion, Pryce and the butler promptly following.

It was all down to this. The teams were tied. The Bayshore Little League team had one batter left. They needed a homerun. Luckily, it was their best player who was stepping up to the plate.

Logan Beauregarde narrowed his eyes at the pitcher, blowing a bubble with the gum in his mouth. He sucked the bubble back in as he raised his bat, gaze focused on the ball in the pitcher’s hand.

The pitcher threw the ball, and as it neared, Logan swung his bat as hard as he could, hitting right on target. The ball was sent flying, and he took off running. He reached first base as the ball had landed and stopped rolling, was at second by the time one of the fielders got to it, reached third as the ball was thrown back near the diamond. It was a race to home base.

He skidded to a stop at the base just before the catcher caught the ball.

Cheers rang out from the home team’s dugout as well as the stand where the team’s family and friends were. Bayshore had won! The team ran out from the dugout, all going into a hug on the field. Logan beamed with pride as his teammates and coach all started cheering him, calling him awesome and the best player. He knew it to be true, but that didn’t change the fact he liked to hear it. However, he knew he couldn’t stay for long; he had somewhere to be. He pushed through the crowd, heading towards the stands, which his dad was coming down from.

“Lo! Oh, you did amazingly, I’m so proud!” Teal Beauregarde smiled, hugging his son close.

“Um, Dad? Hugging… You know I don’t really like hugging…”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Teal pulled away. “But you really did do great.”

“Thank you…” Logan paused, looking around. “Where’s Pa?”

“Oh, he, um…”

Logan sighed. “He didn’t come again?”

“He was probably busy with work. But hey, you know he’ll be really happy when he hears you won!”

“True...”

Teal sighed, trying to think of a way to cheer his son up, before remembering something. “Hey, I ran into Joan earlier. I said maybe they could come round and you two could have a sleepover tonight. We could order pizza, you can watch movies, play video games-”

“Can’t. Busy.”

“Huh?”

“Dad, you know the high school asked me to fill in for a missing member of their mathletes team, and then after that, tonight, I have a chess tournament.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Tomorrow night, then?”

“I have astronomy club, a soccer match and then karate. And before you say the day after, I have robotics club and then ice skating. Now I need to go get changed into my mathlete uniform, Pa’ll probably be here soon to take me there and I need to be ready.”

Logan turned and was about to walk away, when Teal caught his hand before kneeling down in front of him so he was the boy’s height. “Lo, you don’t get too overwhelmed, do you?”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You do so much in a week, every week. So much extracurricular, so many competitions… Promise me you’ll let me know if it’s ever too much, okay?”

Logan responded with a simple eye roll accompanied with a slightly cocky smirk. “Dad. I’m a world record holding gum chewer; I’ve been asked to fill in for a high school mathletes team when I’m still in the 5th grade; I currently hold the title of the champion of the under elevens national chess championship, a title which I’ll defend tonight; and I could go on with a bunch of my other achievements. Trust me, I can never get overwhelmed by a workload. Remember the motto Pa gave me? ‘Win or die trying’. I’m sticking to it.”

And with that, he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms, blowing a bubble with his gum as he went. Teal sighed as he watched his son leave. He often worried Logan was a little too confident for his own good. Teal wished he had the guts to talk with his husband about what he was teaching their son...

Logan, meanwhile, quickly got changed, before heading back out, only this time leaving the field and going to the sidewalk, where he quickly found his Pa’s car parked. He ran over, before climbing in the passenger seat.

Anton Beauregarde turned to him as the boy climbed in. “Did you win?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Good,” Anton nodded. “Still got your gum?”

“Yes, I do.”

Anton nodded again, before starting the car. As he pulled away from the curb, he started talking again. “It’s very important you win this round of mathletes tonight. You need to get through to the quarter finals, since that’s televised.”

“I’m not aiming to get into the quarter finals,” Logan replied. “I’m aiming to win the finals. And before you say it, yes, I’m aiming to keep my chess championship title. Don’t worry, my motivation hasn’t waned.”

His father didn’t respond, so Logan assumed Anton had heard all he wanted to hear. Logan turned, looking out the window, absentmindedly blowing another bubble.

Logan’s pa had always been… hard to please. He wasn’t the affectionate type, a trait Logan appeared to adopt from him over his development. This led to Logan quickly learning that he would gain praise - the closest thing Anton gave to affection - if he made his father proud by being high achieving and being, well, a winner. So, at school, Logan threw himself into academic studies. He quickly climbed to the top of his classes, and started taking academic extracurriculars. It didn’t do much. So, he started going outside of his comfort zones, dipping into different sports. Baseball, soccer, karate, ice skating, gymnastics. Still nothing. So he decided to do something big: break a world record.

Breaking the world record for the longest time spent chewing the same stick of gum was an obvious choice. Logan liked gum - he often chewed it while working to stop himself fidgeting. The current record was only three months, something he knew he could easily beat. So, he went to a candy store and bought a stick of Duke brand gum, specifically the gum that never loses its flavour. Not losing the fruity taste to bland nothingness would make it easier.

Three months and a day later, he was awarded a certificate saying he was now a world record holder, which was hung up in the living room to this day. Anton finally started acknowledging his son’s achievements and started getting more involved in Logan’s life. Logan could have given up gum chewing then… but he’d gotten kind of addicted. And what if someone broke the record and he lost his pa’s respect? So he kept chewing, and hadn’t stopped since.

And he was happy. Yeah… he was happy.

“Virgil! Virgil!”

Virgil Teevee’s eyes did not leave the TV. He didn’t even hear the voice calling his name to be fair - he had a headset on, his ears filled with the noises from the game he was playing as well as the voices of the people he was playing online with.

“Shoot, I’m out of ammo…” he mumbled as his character pressed his trigger to no avail. “Can you guys cover me while I try to find more ammo?”

“Sure,” one of the guys he was playing with - Andy - replied. “Also, here. Not much ammo left in it, but it should last until you find more.” Andy’s character dropped a handgun in front of Virgil’s.

“Thanks.”

“VIRGIL!!!”

This time, Virgil heard. He pulled off his headset, before calling, “What?!”

His mother’s voice called back. “We have to get going, come on!”

Virgil immediately paled. “Um… go where…?”

His mother, Linda Teevee came in, pulling on a cardigan. “We have that meeting with your teacher, remember? I reminded you this morning.”

Virgil felt like he was going to be sick. He knew his grades had been dropping. He knew he hadn’t done 90% of the homework assignments that he had been set so far this year. He knew he barely paid attention in class, just sitting in terror that he’d be called on to answer a question. This was going to be the worst meeting with the teacher of his life.

He needed to prepare.

He left the game, turning off the TV, before running upstairs to his room. He pulled on his sneakers first, before he grabbed his largest pair of soundproof headphones, as well as his phone and Nintendo Switch. He plugged the headphones into his phone, started playing music, and turned up the volume. He slipped a game cartridge into the Switch, turning it on, and starting to play. He left his room, heading downstairs, not lifting his eyes from the console in his hands.

This was his plan. This was how he was going to get through this whole evening. Just ignore everything and bury himself in Mario Kart and Animal Crossing and the other games he had for his Switch.

It had worked before, and would likely work again.

Linda didn’t bat an eye as she saw Virgil come in head down, glued to the screen. Over the years, she had gotten used to his apparent gaming addiction. If anything, she encouraged it. His games kept him out of trouble.

Linda remembered when Virgil was younger… He was such a handful! When he was in kindergarten, she felt like she was called in every other day because Virgil had a screaming match that led to him being sick. Then, when he started elementary school, she kept having to come in because Virgil passed out in lesson, apparently due to getting extremely panicked when called on, leading to him hyperventilating and being unable to breathe.

But then he started getting into video games. Suddenly, he was calmer, much more reserved, and kept out of trouble. She didn’t have to come running to pick him up from school on a regular basis anymore.

So, she got him the consoles and games he wanted, and left him to his own devices. She was happy, her son was happy. It was good all around.

“Come on, then, lets go,” she said despite knowing full well Virgil couldn’t hear her. She left the house, Virgil trailing behind. They climbed into the car, before heading off.

Linda didn’t bother to try and start a conversation with her son as they drove up to the school. She knew by now that he always kept his music up so loud he couldn’t hear anyone.

And she was right. To Virgil, the journey up to school, the meeting with his teacher, and the journey home all blended together. Whatever happened during the meeting, Virgil knew it couldn’t be good, so he purposefully stayed ignorant. When they got home, he wordlessly went up to his room before his mom could try and question him about what was said by his teacher. He turned off his Switch, before getting out his laptop. On it, he returned to the game he had been playing before he left the house.

“Hey, Verge, where’d you go?” Andy’s voice spoke as Virgil turned his mic back on.

“Had some stuff. Doesn’t matter, I’m back now. What’d I miss?”

“Missy choked on his Duke chocolate bar after his brother scared him.”

Virgil chuckled. “Missy, you need to get Pranks under control…”

Missy mumbled incoherently in annoyance, Virgil and Andy laughing.

Talking to his friends online was the best thing, Virgil thought. Even better than having real life friends. Real life friends judge you based on your appearance and popularity. Online, all that mattered was whether you were good enough at gaming, and if you were, boom, you're in a group who’ll invite you to play no matter what. They couldn’t see Virgil and what a mess he could be. All they knew about him was what he told them. And they liked what they knew of him.

And that was good enough for him.

To be continued

Feel free to ask if you would like to be tagged!

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Klaine Advent Drabble - “Baker’s Creed” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt and Blaine have been competing with one another their entire relationship. Now, without knowing it, they're competing for their daughter's affection. Will they work things out before it destroys their kitchen? (2916 words)

Notes: Written to include the @klaineadvent 2019 prompts creed, lecture, and quarrel, as well as the @gleepotluckbigbang prompts cookies, sick, and charity.

Read on AO3.

Blaine wakes up to an empty bed, a script weighing down his chest, and the sinfully sweet smell of Kurt’s chocolate chip cookies wafting through the air.

“Mmm … cookies for breakfast,” he mutters through heavy lips. Next to sex, it’s his favorite way to wake up. He inhales deep. “Time to get myself some sugar.” He giggles at his own suggestive remark, giddy with sleep drunkenness. He moves the script to the side and stretches, using the opportunity of a (temporarily) empty bed to monopolize as much space as possible. The stiffness in his arms unravels, his back cracks, and a feeling of utter euphoria fills his body.

“Ahhhh. This is nice.”

He turns to Kurt’s side of the bed and blows it a kiss. It strikes him for a moment that Kurt being out of bed already is a bit odd, but he can’t remember why. So, as his mind starts to clear, he runs down the check list.

What day is today?

Thursday.

Okay. Makes sense then. Kurt should be up and getting ready for work.

Blaine smiles, rolling on his side and cozying up to his husband’s pillow. He inhales again.

Kurt’s pillowcase still smells like him.

Blaine hugs it, running his nose along the crease that once cradled Kurt’s ear.

“Yes, Kurt,” he whispers, imagining himself in the kitchen, standing behind his husband, arms wrapped over his as Kurt prepares dough for the baking sheet. “Let me help you roll some balls, hmm? Whaddya say? You always tell me how good I am at …”

No!

The word pings through Blaine’s brain like a paddle ball, knocking the daydream from right out of his head.

It’s not Thursday. It’s Friday. Yesterday was Thursday. That’s when Blaine got the script for his new pilot, Mutiny on the Bounty – a campy, madcap comedy about a team of armored car thieves/assassins who manage to pull off the most dangerous and insane heist of the year by screwing every single thing up. The writing is stellar, the cast (comprised entirely of LGBTQ actors) revolutionary. JVN has been on board with the project since go and Blaine couldn’t be more excited to share billing with him.

Best of all, his daughter Tracy – 14-years-old and a huge Queer Eye fan – now looks at Blaine as if he walks on water. Considering what raising a teenager has been like thus far, Blaine is ecstatic that he’s managed to pull that off.

They were going to celebrate last night by having dinner at Per Se, and then he and Kurt were going to do some adult style celebrating after Tracy fell asleep, but Kurt started running a fever and …

Shit!

Blaine sits straight up in bed, nearly tossing Kurt’s pillow across the room, becoming both sober and awake in a blink, which makes his head throb.

Kurt has the flu!

Blaine looks at the empty spot again. The last Blaine remembers of his husband, he was high on NyQuil and fast asleep.

So what was he doing in the kitchen baking cookies?

Memories start flying at him hard and fast, and that’s when it finally hits him.

Bake sale!

The bake sale to raise money for the field trip to Washington D. C. that Tracy has been looking forward to since they found out about it at the beginning of the school year.

The bake sale Tracy failed to remind them about until BEFORE BEDTIME!

The bake sale that parents are required to participate in as half of their children’s citizenship grade and which the school would not simply allow them to cut a check to avoid.

“We are not a charity, Mr. Anderson,” Mrs. Palmer, Tracy’s principal (who sort of reminds Blaine of the dean from Monsters University), had said when he asked. “We have the money in our budget to accommodate all of our children. But if we, too, cut a check every time a teachable moment arises, we wouldn’t be much of a school, now, would we?”

Blaine had agreed to her face then spent an entire ride back to their house in his Mercedes replaying that moment with the addition of him buying the school outright with a check and firing her just to make himself feel better.

Kurt had been determined to make those cookies. But Blaine told Kurt not to worry about it, go to bed and sleep off being sick. He’d take care of it in the morning. Blaine even set his alarm clock for three a.m. so that he could do it. He glances over at his phone, the time on the screen reading 3:45 a.m. He glares at it, wondering why the alarm didn’t go off when it should have. Squinting harder, he sees why.

The little clock icon beneath the numbers, the one that indicates an alarm has been set, is no longer there. Blaine remembers vividly it being there when he went to bed. He’d double checked.

Then triple checked.

Which means Kurt had been feigning sleep until Blaine passed out, then crept downstairs to make the cookies himself!

Because he’s stubborn.

And now, Blaine has to go into the den of the dragon and persuade him to abandon his cookies and come back to bed.

Fun.

Blaine sighs. He swings his legs over the side of the bed but he doesn’t let his feet touch the floor. Then he sighs again. He’s not looking forward to the Battle Royale he’s heading into, but he has to do it. He has to get his husband back to bed by any means necessary.

Parts of his body twitch in excitement when the image of him throwing Kurt over his shoulder and carrying him back to their room kicking and protesting leaps to mind, and he scowls.

“Not now,” he grumbles. He stands up, slides his feet into his slippers, and heads to the kitchen.

The sounds of his miserable husband baking while physically unwell come to him in stages.

First, the sharp ringing of metal utensils hitting the sides of metal bowls.

The mixer running is next, then a timer for the oven goes off.

Finally, the sniffling, the sneezing, and the coughing, which should be a giant red flag to someone like Kurt (both a perfectionist and a germaphobe) that baking isn’t the brightest idea right now.

Blaine’s not going to point that out. It’s simply an observation.

Blaine pads quietly into the kitchen. Kurt doesn’t seem to notice – eyes red-hot and blurry with fever. He slides past Blaine twice without looking his way, making Blaine wonder if his husband may, in fact, be sleep-baking.

“Kurt? Honey?” he says in a low, calm voice so as not to startle him. “It’s almost four in the morning. You have the flu. You have to get some sleep.”

Kurt sniffles. “I don’t care,” he says in a ragged, rough voice. “I’m not done! I have four more batches in the oven, nine on the counter ready to go. I have to finish before seven.”

“Then let me do it for you. I told you I would.”

“I can’t let you do it for me!” Kurt grumbles, stirring chocolate chips into a bowl that Blaine is 88% certain has nothing else in it. “I started these cookies and I’m going to finish them!”

“I don’t understand, Kurt! What’s the big deal? They’re just cookies!”

Kurt gasps, the quick intake of breath through his dry throat starting a massive coughing fit – one that Blaine stands patiently through till the end so that his husband can continue lecturing him. “They’re not just cookies! These are my mother’s chocolate chip cookies!”

“I know! And I’ve made them with you for over a decade so I can definitely finish these!”

“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that I don’t want you to do it!”

“Why not?”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Blaine!” Kurt argues, trading his chip-filled bowl for a baking sheet. “I have promises to keep! Oaths to uphold! A whole … a whole … baker’s creed!”

Blaine’s face pinches, but he keeps himself from laughing, even once, as that would not go well. “A … a baker’s creed?”

Kurt stops rushing from counter to oven with a baking sheet of uncooked dough in his hands long enough to glare at his husband with steely, red-rimmed eyes. “It’s a real thing, Blaine! Look it up!”

“How about I just take your word for it?”

“Whatever.”

“Come on, honey.” Blaine tries to cut Kurt off, tries to swipe the baking sheet from him, but he doesn’t have much success. “It’s not that big a deal!”

“Of course it’s not that big a deal to you, Mr. Big Movie Star who just landed a movie starring Jonathan Van Ness!” Kurt laughs, then snorts, then hacks so loudly his throat sounds like it’s going to explode. “You’ve won! Conquered the teenage years ahead of schedule, jumped to the head of the class!”

“Is that what this is all about?” Blaine asks, gesturing at the mess Kurt has made in the kitchen, completely out of character for him. He’s not baking for the enjoyment of it. He’s baking out of vengeance - to get back at Blaine. “Kurt! I worked hard to get that role!”

“I never said you didn’t! But there are a hundred things I’ve worked hard to accomplish here in this house! Accomplish with our precocious daughter! And right when I feel like I’m slipping back to the starting line again, you find a way to bypass all of that and leap ahead!” Kurt sighs. No – flattens is more the word. He sinks to the floor, sitting amidst starbursts of baking soda, and sets the baking sheet indelicately onto the tile. “The same way you always do.”

Blaine looks down at his poor husband, hugging his knees on the powder-covered ground. Then he looks around the kitchen, at the cookies Kurt had been throwing together in an attempt to have them all done by the morning – all wrapped up for Tracy to take. His mother’s chocolate chip cookies, by far the most popular cookie he bakes. It’s his signature cookie, all his by now since he’s made little tweaks here and there – a bit more brown sugar, a bit less white, one more egg yolk, cake flour instead of all-purpose, which Blaine would have advised against but, as always when it comes to baking matters, Kurt was right. These cookies have been Kurt’s claim to fame at PTA meetings and bake sales all over Manhattan for the entirety of Tracy’s life. But most of all, they’re the first cookies Tracy ever helped him make.

And they’re her favorites.

And whether making these cookies actually does anything to move the needle in Kurt’s favor, he needed to accomplish this by himself. For himself. Raising his self-esteem wasn’t dependent on Tracy so much as it was dependent upon Kurt.

Blaine sees that now.

“You’re right, Kurt,” Blaine says, sliding down the cabinet to join him. “I lucked out. I found the Golden Ticket, without even knowing that’s what it would turn out to be. But I didn’t do it to undermine you! I swear to God I didn’t!”

“Swearing to God doesn’t really help your case here.”

“And me getting one awesome role doesn’t wash away all the amazing things you’ve done for Tracy these past fourteen years - the homemade Halloween costumes, the sing-a-longs, the school plays you’ve volunteered to direct, the school trips you’ve chaperoned, the bake sales and the cookies and the birthday cupcakes.” He inches closer, bumps their shoulders together. “All the nightmares you’ve chased away, the tears you’ve dried. Kurt … one role in one stupid movie can’t compete with any of that. To tell you the truth, that’s why I was so over-the-moon when she got excited about it. Because I’m not the one she goes to when she wakes up in the middle of the night, or when she falls and scrapes her knee, or when she needs cookies for a bake sale. It’s you.”

Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand, weaves their fingers together. “She goes to you, too.”

Blaine shakes his head. “Not as much. Not since she was about seven. I don’t know what changed but she was your girl after that.”

Kurt peeks at Blaine, his head the one hanging now, gazing at their joined hands with watery eyes.

“It’s not a stupid movie,” Kurt says. “It’s going to be a kick-ass amazing movie, and you know it.”

“But it’s not as important as Tracy. Or you. And, yeah, she’s all gaga about it now, but I’m going to be gone for how many months?”

“Oh,” Kurt says sadly. “I didn’t think about that.”

Blaine’s head finds his husband’s shoulder and rests there. “There’s so many things we compete over. Tracy’s affection shouldn’t be one of them. She loves us both. I know that, even if I have to remind myself over and over some days.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just been hard lately, watching her follow you around like a puppy, begging to read through lines with you and talking about becoming an actress when yesterday she was reading over my copy for Vogue and talking about becoming a designer and asking Isabelle how old she has to be to intern and … oh …” Kurt repeats, realization springing to life in his brain at how often Tracy goes to the office with him, helps him pick through his photographs, gives her two cents on fabric choices, helps him accessorize models …

Oh …

“Yup,” Blaine says as if he can read his husband’s mind. “Tomorrow she might wake up and tell us she wants to be a neurosurgeon because Louis Tomlinson decided to give up singing and go to medical school so who knows? If you’ve taught me anything about raising kids it’s that they change their minds like the wind. In fact, pretty much everything I know about raising our daughter I’ve learned from you, and do you know why?”

“Hmm?”

“Because you’re an amazing father.”

Kurt smiles, kisses the top of Blaine’s head. “So are you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Blaine brings Kurt’s hand to his mouth and gives it a kiss. They melt into one another on the kitchen floor, content to remain there, nestled in their puddle of baking soda, surrounded by the scent of chocolate chip cookies, until sun up. But something in the vicinity of the oven pops, interrupting their serene moment.

“So, are you ready to power down the oven and head to bed?” Blaine asks, eyeing the appliance anxiously.

“But what about the cookies? The school needs them in four hours!”

“I’ll get them whipped up. No problem.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Blaine hops up and helps a wobbly Kurt to his feet. “You run along and climb under the covers. I’m going to check some things out down here, then I’ll come in and tuck you into bed.”

Kurt peers at Blaine, his mind working, searching for an argument. “I don’t know. I still think …” He starts to keel forward and Blaine catches him. And Kurt nods, that being the end of that. “All right. I’m going.”

“Good.” Blaine smacks his husband on the behind as he shuffles away. He can’t help it. Even under-the-weather, his nose as red and watery as his eyes, he’s the sexiest man in the universe.

Blaine decides to start with the oven, figuring he should check on whatever that was that exploded before it does it again and takes the whole house with it. Cautiously, he opens the oven door. Before he can peek inside, a disgustingly sharp smell assails his nose and stings his eyes, forcing him to back away. Through barely-open lids he sees Kurt’s latest batch, which has melded into one single cookie, weighing down the baking sheet so much, the wire rack has begun to buckle.

This, he decides, could be a problem.

“Uh … Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you put in these?”

“The usual – sugar, butter, chocolate chips, vanilla …”

Blaine scans the kitchen while Kurt talks, finding each ingredient when he mentions it. Suspicious of one item in particular, he asks, “Did you put flour in these?”

“Of course I did! What do you take me for? An idiot?”

“No. Not at all. What flour did you use?”

“Cake flour.”

“Which bag?”

“That bag by the counter,” Kurt answers with a vague wave.

Blaine looks toward the counter, his eyes growing to comical width. “The one on the counter counter, or the one on the floor?”

“The one on the floor, I guess. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blaine says. “N-not at all.” But that’s a lie. Because the bag of flour on the floor isn’t flour. It’s cement, from the kitchen remodel they’ve been planning. “I think … I’m just going to shut the oven off for now and run a few errands.”

“Errands? What errands?” Kurt asks in alarm. “It’s four in the morning!”

“I know.” Blaine grabs his coat and keys. “I just … I’m going to go get some bagels. For breakfast …” Along with nine dozen replacement cookies and a HAZMAT suit.

“Well, don’t take too long. And be careful.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you.”

On his way out the door, Blaine giggles to himself.

Because he’s going to solve this problem by writing a check.

#klaine advent 2019 #gpbb drabble december #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #frankie writes

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crazyfreckledginger · 5 years ago

Text

Donald Pierce x Reader - “My Small Protector”

Learning how to bake the best cookies from your husband seemed to be a good idea until the teasing between the two of you escalates into a flour fight and your son gets in the way of Donald’s victory thinking he was protecting you from danger.

Requested by anon: “Can I request a Donnie imagine where him and the reader are having a play fight (just kinda messing around etc) and then it’s end up with her on the floor and him leaning over her before somebody (your kid, one of his men, I don’t really mind just somebody close to them) and throws him back, punching his jaw before reader manages to pull them back and explain what’s going on (sorry it’s so long)"

A/N: Hope you like it!

Warning: language, floof and Donald being domestic.

“Babyyyy I don’t know how to do this,” She whined, pouting as he put an empty bowl in front of her.

“Yes you can baby,” he snorted, pecking her pout and licking her lips.

“Careful,” she warned, nudging him to the living room, “our little man is close,” her arms slid around his neck as he dipped down to kiss her lips softly.

“Mmh, but I want to show my love to you,” his nose nuzzled hers.

“You can, just keep it suitable for work,” she chuckled as he kissed along her cheekbone.

“For now,” he smirked, pulling away.

“Can’t I watch you make the cookies, I don’t want to do it anymore,” she leaned against the counter.

“And then you whine when you want to make cookies and I’m too lazy to do it hmm?” he teased. After a few moments of giving him an unimpressed look, she tilted her head and pursed her lips.

“Well then sass master, teach me,”

“What did you just called me?” he raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Oh, you heard me,” she bit her lip in response.

“Is that how it is then, well, you’ll see,” he winked, “add three tea spoons of flour, you made it too liquidy,”

“You’re the one instructing me!!” the girl defended.

“And you’re doing a bad job, now give me a kiss so I can fix your mistake, or I’ll squeeze your butt,” he ordered.

“You are unbearable,” she scoffed.

“Unbearably in love with me,” he smiled smugly, capturing her lips as she dutifully submitted to his instruction.

“Mmh,” he elicited a delicious sound from her as her palm rested against his chest.

“Mommy?” the small voice broke the moment and (Y/N) pushed the girl rapidly away to expose the boy as little as possible to the ‘lovey dovey’ stuff, as Donald referred it to in front of him.

“Yes sweetie,” the woman leaned to her boy’s eye level.

“Can I have a glass of water?”

“Of course little bud,” Donnie reached for a clean glass and turned the tap on to fill the cup.

“Thank you daddy!” he kissed his cheek, grinning widely before he skipped back into the living room and in front of the TV surrounded by his toys with the glass of water in hand.

“Oh, he’s too cute,” (Y/N)’s heart nearly melted.

“He’s got your cuteness,” Pierce had the softest grin on his face as he pulled her towards him, cupping her cheek, “I love you,” a relieved sigh escaped her lips.

The woman gave a shy laugh, hiding her blush in his chest before looking back up at him.

“I love you too,” she pecked his lips.

“You still get giddy when I tell you that?” he kissed along her cheekbone?

“Well yeah? Why is it so bad?”

“Because we’ve been married 6 years?” a laugh rumbled in his throat as she became red with embarrassment.

“I’m aloud to feel the same way I did when we first started dating,” she expressed through flushed cheeks.

“Please don’t stop on my account, you make me fall even more in love with you,” he hugged her tightly, adoring how much he enjoyed his life with her and their son.

“Come on my giant softie, teach me before you make my heart melt,” her hand gripped his as they returned their attention to the counter.

****

“Don’t stop stirring!” He nudged her.

“I’m trying okay, my arm is tired, why don’t you do anything huh? Do it since you have so much muscle Lazy boy” she slapped his chest.

“Yes ma’am,” he snorted, getting in her place as soon as she made space for him. Wriggling her arm, her eyes stayed on him as he effortlessly blended the liquid mixture with the flour.

“Are you showing off?” she scrunched her nose in amusement.

“Why would I show off? I have you already,” he chuckled.

“Fuck off!” her fingers pinched his side as she laughed in disbelief.

“I’m nearly finished with this, do you have the chocolate chips?” the woman hummed in affirmation, opening the packet as Donald scooped a tiny piece of dough with a spoon to taste it.

“Mmh, delicious,” he complimented but only received some crunching noises in response, “what-” his sentence stopped abruptly as his blue eyes locked on her.

“Seriously? Stop eating the chocolate chips, we’re supposed to put them in the cookies!” he snatched the packet out of her hands and shook it into the bowl.

“Hey!!” she pouted, glaring at him as he mixed the bowl.

“Come on cutie pie, help me put them in batches,”

“No!!” she threw a bit of flour on him which took him completely by surprise. A challenging grin tore on his face as he wiped off the flour that was poorly aimed at his neck and chest.

“Oh, you asked for it!” he took some flour and threw it at her face.

“Aaah!” she screeched, ducking under him to get away but he managed to grasp her waist and, before she knew it, he pushed her to the floor and pinned her down to him.

“Donnie!” she squirmed.

“Donnine what hmm? Admit defeat!”

“No!” she murmured, thrashing as she could. Pierce smirked widely before kissing her deeply. Despite her protests, she couldn’t resist the kiss and found herself returning it.

“Mmh,” he purred, cupping her floured cheek and deepening the kiss until he felt a soft object being thrown at his face. The cyborg pulled away swiftly, “hey-”

“Get off mommy!” the small boy pouted, punching his cheek.

“Owie little guy,” he frowned, pulling his son against his chest and in his lap.

“Baby, why would you hurt daddy?” (Y/N) cooed at the pouting boy.

“Because he hurt you,”

“No I didn’t hurt her bud,”

“He didn’t,”

“Well, I’m sowwy, I thought daddy was hurting you and he always tells me to ‘look after you’ when he goes to work,” the boy tried to reason in his mind, but it seemed too confusing to him the more he thought about it.

“It’s okay baby, I’m proud of you for doing a good job at protecting your mamma,” Donald grinned at his son as his expression morphed from a disappointed to a happy one.

“Thank you daddy!” he hugged his neck tightly before letting go, “Are you guys nearly finished? I wanna watch the screen with you,”

“We’ll be there in a moment sweetheart, just need to finish these cookies.”

“COOKIES!!!” he squealed.

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flight-of-the-sacred-eagle · 5 years ago

Text

The Great Sugar Debate

I had so much fun imagining this. Apollo and Athena fight like siblings and you cannot convince me otherwise.

“Oh for the love of- give me that!” Apollo hissed as he reached over and attempted to snatch the mixing bowl from Athena. “You’re doing it wrong!” He said as Athena just held the bowl above her head.

“Nu-uh!” Athena said. “I’m doing exactly what the recipe book said!” She exclaimed. Apollo narrowed his eyes.

“You put brown sugar in instead of regular sugar!” He exclaimed. Athena shrugged.

“It’s still sugar,” she said. “Brown sugar, white sugar, they’re the same thing,” she said.

“No they aren’t!” Apollo exclaimed. “They’re completely different!” He exclaimed. “One is brown and the other is white!” He exclaimed. “And for the recipe, we need white sugar!” He exclaimed.

“Wow, no need to be racist,” Athena said. “Er, sugarist.” Apollo huffed.

“MR. WRIGHT! ATHENA’S BEING A JERK AND IS SCREWING UP THE GINGERBREAD MIX!” He yelled as he tried to reach up and grab the bowl again. Athena’s eyes narrowed.

“POLLY IS BEING A SUGARIST!” She cried.

“BROWN SUGAR AND WHITE SUGAR ARE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!” Apollo shouted back.

“NO THEY AREN’T! THEY’RE BOTH SUGAR!” Athena cried.

“YES THEY ARE!”

“NO THEY AREN’T!”

“Good lord, this sounds like the ladder vs. stepladder debate Maya and I have,” Phoenix said, causing the younger lawyers to look at him. “Come on kids, get along,” he said with a grin.

“But Mr. Wright, she’s ruined the batter!” Apollo exclaimed. Phoenix just laughed.

“Did she now?” He said as he walked over to the pair. “What did she do?” He asked.

“I used brown sugar instead of white sugar because it’s just sugar,” Athena said.

“Well, you’re right,” Phoenix said, causing Athena to smirk. “But brown sugar does have molasses added to it,” he said before shrugging. “So it’s sweeter,” he explained. Apollo smirked.

“Told you,” he said. Athena just stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, I’m not redoing this,” she said.

“Fine,” Apollo said. “Then I’ll make my own batch,” he said as he grabbed another bowl. “And mine will be better,” he said.

“We’ll see about that,” Athena said.

“We’re making sugar cookies next, right?” Trucy asked, causing Apollo to look up from where he was mixing ingredients together. Phoenix shrugged.

“Sure,” he said. “I don’t see why not,” he said.

“Oh, I promised Simon some peanut butter buttons, so we need to do that at some point,” Athena said as she started putting the dough on a pan.

“Don’t forget that we’re doing snickerdoodles around seven,” Phoenix said. “Miles loves them and I want to make sure they’re still warm for him,” he said.

“You’re lucky, you weren’t given instructions to bring as many cookies as possible,” Apollo said as he put his own dough on a pan. “Clay just wants cookies,” he said with a chuckle. “And don’t get me started on what Klav likes,” he said. Trucy hummed.

“Those are the honey cookies, right?” She asked. Apollo nodded.

“Yeah. He made a comment about missing them the other night,” he said. “And I figured that, since we’re here making stuff, I could at least try to make him some,” he said. Athena let out a gasp.

“You didn’t tell me that you wanted to make honey cookies!” She cried. “Polly, those are the absolute BEST!” She exclaimed.

“Huh. Actually, I wonder if Miles ever had them,” Phoenix said.

“Well, let’s make some for everyone!” Trucy exclaimed as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “They do sound good,” she said before her eyes widened as the oven dinged. Phoenix grinned.

“Well, looks like your cookies are done,” he said. “I’ll put them on the cooling rack, you three start on the sugar cookies,” he said.

“I’ll get the white sugar!” Apollo said.

“I’ll get the brown sugar!” Athena said at the exact same time. The pair paused before they looked at each other.

“WE NEED TO USE WHITE SUGAR!”

“BROWN SUGAR! IT’S THE EXACT SAME!”

“NO IT ISN’T!”

“YES IT IS!”

#ace attorney #apollo justice #athena cykes #phoenix wright #trucy wright #refrenced klapollo #refrenced wrightworth #refrenced cykesquill

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 29: Starting To Crumble

Becoming The Mask

Jim sliced apples into neat segments and cored them. Nana rolled out a pie crust. She had taught him how to make those but still rarely let him do it when they were in her kitchen.

Red Delicious apples were aesthetically pleasing for their shape and their uniform, saturated colour, but they tasted absolutely terrible. Nana Domzalski persisted in using them in pies.

Jim suspected it was due to her failing vision. Toby wasn't picky enough about fruits to steer his grandmother towards a different type while helping her shop, so she just chose the reddest apples now that she couldn't see the labels clearly.

When had Jim last gone grocery shopping? Maybe a week ago? He had been planning to go shopping today, but then there had been the bridge and Bular and telling Barbara everything, and now it was dark and the shops were closed and he just hadn't had the time.

Well, at least that meant fewer ingredients would rot in the fridge because Barbara didn't know what to do with them …

"It's nice to have an extra pair of hands in the kitchen," said Nana. "If you like I can teach you how to make a lattice top once we put the apples in."

"I would like that." She had taught him before, but it had been a few years. When Jim made pies, he usually gave them a crumble topping, or a solid top with cookie cutter incisions.

He grabbed a bottle of lemon juice and sprinkled droplets over his apple segments, to keep them from turning brown. And hopefully add a hint of tartness to those flavourless chunks of so-called fruit, so the finished pie would taste like more than crust, cinnamon, and cloves.

Toby wasn't home from the dentist yet, which wasn't doing Jim's nerves any favours. Nana hadn't questioned why he'd come in with luggage – well, she had, but the question was, "oh, are you and Toby-Pie having a sleepover?" and it wasn't even really a lie to say "yes."

"You could take one of these back home with you tomorrow," Nana continued.

Jim capped the lemon juice with unnecessary viciousness. "That would be … great."

He could probably sneak it into the house while Barbara was out. If he cut out a slice and left it in the fridge, she might think it was leftovers and not question it.

Now there was a thought.

If Jim could make some meatloaves or casseroles and just leave them at home, Barbara might not remember they hadn't already been there. Between change blindness and how infrequently she looked through the fridge, when her food was usually on the table or a tray on her nightstand or in a labelled bag …

Of course, she might be suspicious of the quantities.

Nana was talking again, telling Jim once more about how her grandmother taught her a trick to keep dough from sticking to a rolling pin.

"Sprinkle flour over your dough and don't push down, that's very important. Just let the weight of the pin do the work. It's the same for pie crust as it is for cookies. Of course you'll want another bowl to put the scraps in once you've cut the cookies out. Extra flour changes the texture. Not much, but you shouldn't mix it right back into your other dough. Save it up for later batches."

"I'm home!" Toby called. "These Jimbo's bags? You moving in, bud?" Jim had left his duffle and backpack in the living room.

"Toby-Pie!" said Nana delightedly when he entered the kitchen. A cat was twisting around his ankles in hopes the newest human to arrive wouldn't know the cats had already been fed that evening. "Jimmy's here for your sleepover. He's just helping me with the pies."

"… Right," said Toby. "Our sleepover."

"Nana's going to teach me how to make a lattice pie crust," Jim added.

"Dude, did you bring your whole room with you?"

Toby had insisted on being a 'good host' and helping Jim bring his bags upstairs. He had not expected how heavy Jim had managed to make his backpack. Toby could barely lift it. All that troll training must've given Jim superhuman strength.

"Practically." Jim adjusted the strap of his duffle bag again. "Want to switch?"

The duffle was, if possible, heavier. Toby had no idea how the straps weren't tearing off the bag. That was a feat of engineering, right there.

Toby had to surrender his lofty ideals of hospitality and allow Jim to carry his own luggage.

"Okay, seriously, how are you still standing?" he demanded once Jim made it to Toby's room and put his stuff down. "You're not an ant, Jim; you can't carry more than your own bodyweight. Is this a Trollhunter thing?"

Jim sat on Toby's bed and pulled the blanket around himself like a cape.

"Mom found out."

"… Found out … what?"

"That I'm the Trollhunter. She … she didn't take it well."

Toby could see that. Jim had been lying and sneaking around for months now, coming back hurt, and, well, Toby tried not to think about the whole 'until death' part but he could definitely get why Dr L might not approve of her son's 'after-school job'.

Chompsky came out of the dollhouse, scaled the bedside, and patted Jim's knee. Toby sat down on Jim's other side and rubbed his back through the blanket.

"She told me to take my troll stuff and get out."

Toby hugged Jim. Jim hugged him back as best he could without giving up the blanket that hampered his arms.

"I think she just needs time and space," said Jim, his voice muffled in Toby's shoulder. "I told her I'd be here. So she knows where to find me and won't worry I'm, you know, in trouble somewhere, once she calms down."

Toby had read comics where parents kicked their teenagers out for being secret superheroes, but he'd expected better of Dr Lake.

"Say the word and her car is egged."

"What?" Jim laughed. "No!"

"Open offer."

It took only a day for opportunity to knock on Enrique's door. That was the expression, right? Whatever. The point was his chance had come.

Javier decided Ophelia had been working too hard lately and that he should take her out for a romantic evening. Claire was drafted to babysit. After a masterfully executed complaint about giving up the last part of her weekend on zero notice – seriously, the Changeling was impressed – she was allowed to invite her friends over.

Enrique was, so far as the humans knew, taking well to sleep training. He needed to hold off another week or two to make it believable, but once they believed he consistently slept through the night, it would be a lot easier to sneak around.

Nice of the fleshbags to discuss 'expected developmental milestones' where a Changeling could hear, wasn't it?

Once Darci and Mary showed up – nice enough as fleshbags went, quick to baby-talk at him but not too in-his-face about it – Claire was good and distracted. She brought them up to see him, and had checked on him once since then, and he'd faked being mostly asleep for the last one.

He could hear a movie playing and the girls talking. The undertone of static from the TV was different than the one from the radio. As long as Claire didn't hear him over all of that, Enrique should be able to search freely.

He'd bartered an old and only slightly gnawed tape player from the goblins to record some breathing sounds for the baby monitor. Enrique carefully tucked in Suzy Snooze, making a baby-sized lump under the blankets in case anyone peeked in. They wouldn't dare actually come inside, or they might 'wake the baby'.

Enrique held his breath and pressed play. He'd set it up under his crib two days ago and recorded himself sleeping, in case he snored or something, so it'd sound extra natural, and to fill up the whole tape so it wouldn't suddenly blare out loud music or something.

(Jim had suggested the setup and been very careful to warn him about filling the whole tape. Jim had luckily just returned when the music started and been able to turn it off quickly, so his Familiar's parents had blamed a passing motorist with a loud radio.)

As light-footed as a being of living stone could be, Enrique left his room and went to Claire's.

He didn't have a ton of experience with human houses, so he couldn't tell at a glance if anything was odd about Claire's room. But he wasn't here to look. Suzy Snooze hadn't looked suspicious either.

Enrique closed his eyes and sniffed.

It smelled like Claire, of course. A bit like the rest of her family, a bit like her friends, but mostly like Claire.

Enrique sniffed harder. Just a hint, come on, give him somewhere to start searching …

The laundry basket was an odd mix of scents. On the one hand, the socks in particular smelled like food. On the other hand, they smelled like Claire, and Claire was … Not Food.

He would, ah, not be including that last statement in any kind of official report, if he found anything in here that warranted making any kind of official report.

Come on, he hadn't imagined troll smell on Suzy. Where was Claire hiding her secrets?

He stuck his head under the bed and sneezed. He caught a dust bunny and ate it. Linty.

He kept sniffing, trying to let the human scents fade into the background and catch … yes, there was something. Something … in the laundry? The scents were faded and mixed.

Her jacket.

Claire had worn that jacket while around trolls.

The light snapped on. Enrique didn't even have time to elaborately curse – just for a quick gasp before the screaming started.

Claire had been having a nice evening.

Darci and Mary had been debating which movie to watch next when Claire suggested doing manicures during the movies. She'd gone upstairs for her nail polish and found – a goblin or something sniffing around in her bedroom.

Of course she screamed.

The monster made a break for the window. Claire got ahead of it and threw it onto her bed and wrapped it up in the sheet, like they did for the cat when it was time to go to the vet. Mary and Darci came running and found Claire pinning down the thrashing … whatever it was.

"Cat carrier," Claire said shrilly, "in the basement. Get it."

Darci and Mary looked unsurely at each other, but Darci helped Claire hold the monster down while Mary went to get the cat carrier.

"I came in and there was this – goblin or gremlin or something," Claire explained. "If we can lock it up, we can take it to Trollmarket, and Blinky can tell us what it is and why it was in my room."

The thing went still for a moment, then made a break for it. Darci and Claire both yelped and held it back.

When Mary came back, Claire stuffed the sheet in with the monster so it couldn't claw or bite them. Darci filled Mary in as best she could while Claire looked around. Nothing was missing. It hadn't had time to steal, if that was why it came in.

Her windows were latched. That was … odd. Claire usually left them that way, but if it came in through the window, why would it close them? Had it gotten in some other –?

"Uh, Claire?" said Mary.

"Yeah?"

"You screamed pretty loud … so … shouldn't Enrique be crying?"

Going to check on her brother was like a scene from a horror movie.

The three girls ran to the nursery, Claire carrying the caged creature, and stopped in the door. The room looked peaceful and undisturbed.

Mary reached in and switched the light on. Nothing appeared different. Then Darci, shaking, pointed at the old-fashioned tape player by the baby monitor, playing peaceful breathing sounds.

Claire approached the crib, flipped back the blanket, and found Suzy Snooze alone.

She dropped the monster's cage. The creature made a noise like, "oy!" Claire barely heard it. There was a roaring in her ears. She'd read that phrase but didn't realize it described a real sensation. Her eyes were hot and stinging and her vision went wavery. She clutched tight to the side rail of the crib.

Enrique was gone. She was supposed to be watching him and he was gone. It was her fault, all her fault. She had lost her brother. She had let something take him.

She picked up the creature's cage again and shook it.

"What did you do to my brother?!"

Okay. This was … not ideal.

But she didn't seem to have worked out he was a Changeling yet, so if Enrique could get away before they got to Trollmarket and get out of sight, he could change back and let Claire find him, and then his cover wouldn't be completely blown.

Previous Chapter (Enrique is suspicious of Claire, and Barbara kicks Jim out)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Enrique’s cover is completely blown)

The Nuñezes canonically have a cat. There is a poignant scene where Not Enrique is stuck in a cat carrier in the novel Angor Reborn, which annoyed me despite the well-conveyed emotions because I had already planned to have Claire stick him in a cat carrier upon discovering him and now it looks like a novel reference even though I had the idea before the novel was published.

(Nana also supposedly has cats, but we sure never see any in her house in the show, even before AAARRRGGHH and Dictatious move in.)

Fun fact about pie making: a completely solid crust on top will mess up the filling. If the pie has a solid upper crust, there will be at least a few slashes cut or holes poked into it to let moisture escape. Crumble toppings work differently than crust toppings.

Nana shares advice about rolling pins which is something my mom taught me when we were making cookies.

#Trollhunters #Becoming The Mask chapters #Tales of Arcadia #Changeling Jim #fanfiction #Nana Nancy Domzalski #Tobias Domzalski #Not Enrique #Claire Nuñez #Darci Scott #Mary Wang #baked goods #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!#also #TOA novels and comics

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toumakibangs · 6 years ago

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°*TouMaki - Advent Calendar 2018*° DAY 18 - “BAKING” (”Character A can’t go home for Christmas, so they invite over their grumpy loner neighbour Character B”) by @evvazi

Mod’s Note: There’s a fine line between “Sharing the cheer” and “Shoving Christmas down people’s throat”. Toudou and Makishima hold different opinions on where that line falls. At least at first. Nothing a batch of cookies can’t fix… Thanks for making the sweetness literal, @evvazi!

Author’s Notes: “I love baking christmas cookies so toumaki get to do that too! Our family recipe, no less! And I used the side prompt ‘character A can’t go home for christmas so they invite over their grumpy loner neighbour character B’ because it sounded like a toumaki kind of prompt. I hope everyone has a very toumaki advent!”

While most people enjoyed a break during the holidays toward the end of the year, it was an incredibly busy time for a fashion designer like Makishima. Christmas brought with it an array of possible sales from sexy Santa costumes to ugly Christmas sweaters. His brother insisted he had a talent for making the latter, which Makishima didn’t agree with, but he was fine with them if it meant he didn’t have to design the former.

Needless to say, he’d barely slept the past weeks, but now, on the 24th of December, everything had to be done, and whatever wasn’t wouldn’t get done anymore. But he still didn’t have much time to rest. New Years was coming up, and he still needed to finalize some designs for that, especially something “fancy and inspired by traditional wear” that he could show off at the New Years gala he was invited to attend. His brother had accepted the invitation for him, saying it was a great chance to make their Japanese branch more widely known, while totally ignoring that ‘traditional’ was exactly everything Makishima’s designs were not.

He wasn’t making any progress on that though, so he’d taken on the equally unpleasant task of answering to e-mails that were asking about statements for some of his previous designs or just his whole work of the past year, all aiming to include them in some kind of article that reviewed the year as it came to an end. Words weren’t his forte, so Makishima had procrastinated answering, meaning they were now piling up in his inbox.

Just as he’d copy-pasted his usual polite greeting and intro text that he only slightly modified by adding names and other relevant info into the spaces left for them, his doorbell rang. Makishima’s first instinct was to ignore it. He wasn’t expecting any online deliveries, and he hadn’t ordered takeout yet either. Maybe he should soon, it was already pitch-black outside now that he paid attention. But then, it was only 5:30pm, so no need to rush.

The doorbell rang again. Damn, seemed like he actually had to answer the door if he wanted to continue working in peace.

He realized the mistake in his logic as soon as he opened the door. How could he work in peace if the man standing at his door was the definition of annoying? While Makishima didn’t know his name, he still recognized his next-door-neighbour. He was the kind of guy who looked annoyingly cheery when going for his morning jog at 6am, which Makishima only ever witnessed when he’d pulled an all-nighter and was making himself coffee or a snack in the kitchen. He also had the annoying habit of vacuum cleaning his apartment every Sunday between 8am and 9am, a time at which Makishima would really love to be asleep. Knowing they were just too different to ever get along, Makishima had blown off every one of the other’s attempts at conversation and generally tried to avoid running into him.

“Merry Christmas!” His neighbour beamed at him, but Makishima only stared back with a grumpy expression.

“It’s only the 24th.”

“And it’s evening, isn’t it? So it’s Christmas Eve!”

Makishima sighed. He didn’t want to have such a pointless argument. “Fine. Christmas. Can I help you with something?” Maybe he just wanted to borrow something and Makishima could get this over with really quick if he handed it over or didn’t have it either.

“Yes! Or well, actually, it’s more like I’ll be helping you!” Makishima stared blankly at his neighbour. He… really didn’t need any help…? But the guy smiled at him with utmost confidence. “You see, I work from home a lot, so I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t leave your house a lot, and nobody ever comes to visit you either. And, worst of all, you order takeout almost every day! That’s terrible for your health! So, since nobody should be alone on Christmas, and you could definitely use some fresh, healthy food, I’ve decided to invite you over! What do you say?”

“Actually, I’m still working, and there’s a lot that I still have to do…” That wasn’t a lie, and it seemed like a great way to turn his neighbour down without being too rude. He had half a mind to call him out on knowing way too much about Makishima’s habits, like some kind of stalker, but it was a fact that their kitchen windows both faced in the direction of the walkway to their apartment complex. If he spent time in his kitchen regularly, he was bound to see the deliveries Makishima got. And notice the lack of people coming over. Even Makishima couldn’t help but notice that Toudou had lots of people coming to visit him. Mostly pretty girls. He’d seen some of them multiple times as well, and silently wondered if one of them was his neighbour’s girlfriend. Especially since they sometimes stayed the night. Not that he cared, of course, but it was fun to imagine there was some kind of drama going on there, like a love triangle or his neighbour secretly having multiple girlfriends at once.

“Nonsense!” His neighbour’s shrill voice startled him out of his thoughts. “It’s Christmas! Nobody should be working unless it’s absolutely necessary. And you need to take regular breaks anyway. I can sweeten the deal for you too, how about we bake Christmas cookies together, and when we’re done, you can take some home with you.”

“You’re not letting me get out of this, are you?”

“Nope!”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Toudou Jinpachi. And you could’ve known, I introduced myself to you before, right after you moved in!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t care enough to remember it.”

That made Toudou pout, but it didn’t make him leave or retract his offer. With his last resort plan of being rude having failed as well, Makishima resigned himself to his fate. He wasn’t one to turn down an excuse to procrastinate or an offer of free food anyway, and this was both in one. So even if Toudou gave him a headache in the process, it might still be worth it in the end.

“Fine. Just let me save my stuff, I’ll be over in five minutes.”

Toudou left with a beaming smile on his face. Sighing, Makishima went to turn off his pc, and then to brush his hair and put on some decent clothes. This was probably going to be awkward regardless of what he did, but he didn’t need to add to that by looking like he just fell out of bed. Toudou always looked flawless, the difference would just be too great.

Only when he rang Toudou’s doorbell a little bit over five minutes later did it dawn on him that he could’ve just not gone over. Well, too late now.

Toudou opened the door within seconds, eagerly inviting him inside and directing him towards the kitchen, as if his apartment didn’t have the exact same layout as Makishima’s own. All the appliances you might need for baking were already spread out on the kitchen table, so Toudou had probably planned to do it from the start. Everything else was meticulously cleaned and stowed away properly. Somehow, Makishima didn’t doubt Toudou’s kitchen always looked like this, completely opposite to his own.

“Maybe now is a good time to mention that I’ve never baked anything before.” Makishima could cook some easy meals, but all he’d ever used his oven for was baking finished stuff like pizza or lasagne. He wasn’t a big enough fan of sweets to make them for himself, and for most of his life, he could just get all the baked goods he ever wanted from Tadokoro’s bakery. Nothing he could ever make himself would live up to that, anyway.

“No problem! Anyone can bake with a recipe, and the cookies we’re making aren’t all that difficult. Besides, I’m a fantastic baker, so you can just ask me if there’s anything you don’t understand or need help with. Back home, we made these with the neighbourhood children, and they always turned out great, so I know it’s foolproof.”

Great, so if he fucked up, he was officially worse than a bunch of children.

“Alright, so what do we do first?”

“Gotta measure and mix all the ingredients for the dough. You can start with the flour.” Toudou handed him a jar filled with flour – who the hell kept their flour in a jar instead of just using the bag it came with? – and weirdly shaped transparent cup with all kinds of writing on it. On closer inspection, those turned out to be measurements. It had litre, which was to be expected, but also various common baking ingredients like sugar and flour, measured in gram. Makishima had no idea something like this existed. Fascinated, he began shovelling flour into the cup. Because of course there was a designated spoon to do just that in the jar.

Once he had 250g, like Toudou had told him, he looked around. “Do you have a bowl for this?”

“No, just pour it on the table. That’s what all the space is for. Just make a nice little mountain and then make a small crater on the top, like a volcano.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” He snatched the recipe book from Toudou’s hands and looked at the instructions himself. To his surprise, the recipe did essentially say what Toudou had said, even if it didn’t use the word volcano. The recipe had also been altered with a pen and there were annotations all over. Maybe Toudou really knew what he was doing? Makishima had sort of assumed he was just bragging when he said he was a fantastic baker. Then again, the recipe book looked like it might be older than Toudou himself, so maybe this had been passed down to him like this.

Ignoring Toudou’s smug grin, Makishima made the flour volcano. Then they proceeded to add all the other ingredients. Sugar, vanilla sugar, rum, cinnamon, clove and whip cream that hadn’t been whipped yet. The dry ingredients were put on the sides of the volcano, while the fluid ones were poured into the crater. Makishima had to admit that it was a smart way to keep them in one place without a bowl.

Lastly, Makishima was delegated to cutting butter into slices and putting them onto the sides, while Toudou carefully cracked an egg and dripped the white part into the volcano crater. The yellow part went into another cup and was put aside. Glancing at the recipe, he could see that they’d use it later. He also noticed Toudou had left the eggs on the counter the entire time, unlike all the other ingredients, and hadn’t asked him whether he wanted to do the butter or the egg. So he probably wasn’t trusted to cleanly separate the egg. Toudou really was treating this like baking with the neighbourhood kids. Sure, he’d said he couldn’t bake, but it was kind of annoying that Toudou seemed to think of this as some kind of community service. Just because his friends lived either in Chiba or in England and therefore didn’t often come to visit him didn’t mean that he didn’t have any. He wasn’t lonely. Definitely not lonely enough to need his neighbour to take pity on him and spend time with him just because of some holiday.

Makishima pushed those thoughts down. He was starting to actually have fun, more thanks to the baking than to Toudou, so it was better to just focus on that. If he cut up the butter with more fervour than strictly necessary after Toudou had mixed the liquid ingredients with flour, that was just him having fun and being thorough.

At least, Toudou was pleased that he was so motivated. Kneading the dough was next. Makishima wasn’t sure he was doing it right, the flour was all over the place and pieces of butter kept sticking to his fingers and the whole thing just didn’t look like dough, but Toudou told him to keep going while he started on dinner prep, and to tell him if his arms got tired or he thought he was done.

Silence fell over the room. Just as Makishima was starting to feel weird about it and wondered whether he should initiate conversation somehow, Toudou started talking on his own. About how he’d made these cookies with his mother as a kid, and then later with the neighbourhood kids, who were much more excited than Makishima but much less helpful, and about his high school friends who’d been over yesterday and had eaten all the cookies, even the ones he’d stashed away to bring home to his family – “leave it to Shinkai to find any and all food in the house and devour it without asking and then still complain there’s not enough.”

Makishima just let it wash over him, grateful that he didn’t have to do any talking himself. Half his concentration was focused on the dough, which still didn’t look like dough. Had he even made progress at all? It kept falling apart, and too much of it still just looked like pure flour that just wouldn’t stick to the rest of it. Maybe he was doing something wrong? His arms were starting to hurt, too.

When Toudou asked him how it was going, all he could do was shrug. “I don’t think I did anything, to be honest…”

Toudou poked the dough. “No, you definitely made some progress! But it’s taking longer than I thought…” Then, out of the blue, Toudou grabbed his hand. It felt slightly weird with the flour and butter of the dough still sticking to Makishima’s hand, but Toudou’s hand was warm and soft, and Makishima could feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Before he could do anything except panic internally, Toudou frowned. “Your hands are way too cold, no wonder this is going so slow. Let me take over for a bit, and if you wanna do the finishing touches, wash your hands with warm water right before so they’re nice and warm.”

Makishima nodded, and yanked his hand back from Toudou with just a little too much force. After washing his hands to get rid of everything that stuck to it, he settled against the kitchen counter. Toudou picked up the conversation again, elaborating on his earlier story about his friends. But this time, Makishima didn’t have anything to do, so he just watched Toudou work.

He was kneading the dough expertly, like Makishima had seen in passing in Tadokoro’s bakery. The dough was still crumbling beneath his fingers though.

Makishima let his gaze wander higher, up Toudou’s surprisingly toned arms to where the tips of his silky black hair brushed against his shoulders. Makishima might have admitted that the headband on top was a practical choice for baking, but he knew Toudou always wore one, so he probably just liked the silly things and just got lucky it served a purpose for once. But then, Makishima wasn’t in any position to say something against outlandish fashion choices, so finally, he settled his gaze on Toudou’s face. His lips were constantly moving, forming themselves around an endless array of words that Makishima was paying less and less attention to. Toudou’s purple eyes were alive with emotion, excitement and affection and annoyance, and Makishima couldn’t help but wonder how they’d look fixated on him, even more intense emotions swirling in them, emotions you wouldn’t show towards your friends…

“Alright!”

Makishima was startled out of his thoughts and immediately chastised himself for ogling Toudou so openly. This was still the annoying guy who woke up early and probably had multiple girlfriends! Makishima had already known he was also annoyingly handsome, no need to act so desperate.

“Now it’s almost done, so you can do the rest, Maki-chan!”

He turned away, using the excuse to wash his hands with warm water like Toudou had suggested before to hide his embarrassment. Then he realized what Toudou had said. “Maki-chan, really? What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your nickname, obviously! You’re already in my kitchen and baking with me, so no need to be formal, right? You can give me one too!”

“…Headband, then.”

“Hey!” Toudou pouted, making Makishima laugh.

“What? You’re wearing one every time I see you.”

“Well, yeah! It’s one of my distinguishing features, to bring out my natural beauty! But you still can’t call me that because… because Arakita already does! Yeah! It’s his nickname for me! Too bad, but it’s already taken!”

That didn’t sound convincing, but Makishima just shrugged. “Your name will have to do then, Toudou.”

Makishima focused back on the dough, ignoring Toudou’s sputtering. It was finally looking like dough, only a few pieces of butter where still not properly mixed with the rest. Maybe he should have paid attention to see how that change was possible instead of staring at Toudou’s face.

Five minutes later, they deemed the dough to be finished, and Toudou wrapped it in plastic foil and placed it in the fridge. “Now we have to wait about half an hour, but there’s still plenty to do! You can start by taking the trays out of the oven and setting it to 175° so it starts heating up. And then you can smear some butter on the trays. I’ll clean up what we don’t need anymore and finish dinner prep so we just have to heat everything up once we’re done.”

Makishima followed the instructions, but unsurprisingly, he was done way before Toudou. So he stood around awkwardly, knowing he couldn’t really be a help with what Toudou was doing. He didn’t know where anything in Toudou’s kitchen was supposed to be, and a quick glance over to the counter with dinner confirmed he had no idea what was going on there either. He couldn’t even name half the vegetables that were spread out, much less guess what to do with them.

Thankfully, Toudou started talking again. “So, while I’m working, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? I’ve only been talking about myself the entire time!”

He honestly sounded like he had just now noticed that. And here Makishima had thought he was trying to be helpful after he’d realized Makishima didn’t really know what to say. Instead, he was just dense. Or he liked talking about himself too much. Possibly both.

“Uhhhhhhh… like what?”

“Anything! Like what you do for a living. Or something about your family. Where are you from? Do you have siblings?”

“Um, yeah. I work as a fashion designer for the Japanese branch of my older brother’s brand.”

Toudou turned to look at him, giving him a once-over. “A fashion-designer?”

Ah. There it was. The disbelieving, disapproving tone of voice he always got. It wasn’t like he’d expected anything else from standard-beauty Toudou. Barely anyone understood his work. “What? Got a problem with that?” he shot back, more annoyed than he’d thought he’d be.

“No!” Toudou brought his arms up defensively. “I just wasn’t expecting it, even though it totally makes sense with how you dress! Like, I’ve never seen anyone wear anything like your wardrobe! It’s creative, and it makes you stand out!”

Uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Makishima couldn’t help but notice that Toudou hadn’t said anything necessarily positive about his style, and he knew Toudou probably still thought it was ugly, but at least he’d been sort of polite and honest about it. That was more than what Makishima usually got. He’d take it.

“So, what about you?”

Toudou looked at him, confused.

“What do you do for a living? Are you a chef or something? Can’t say I know anything about cooking but that-“ he gestured vaguely towards all the ingredients and tools spread on the counter “-looks kind of professional.”

“You think so?” Toudou beamed. “I’m a nutritionist, though. But my family owns a ryokan – Toudou-an, the best ryokan in all of Hakone, with perfect service and relaxing hot springs, you should come visit some time, I’ll give you a discount! What was I about to say? Oh yeah, I learned how to cook from my mom and the professional chefs there from a young age, so my skills are top-notch!”

Makishima decided to ignore the obvious bragging and exaggerated advertisement. “So you’re a nutritionist, but you’re still making sweets? Aren’t they unhealthy? I distinctly remember that we added twice the amount of sugar than what the recipe originally said, too.”

“Yes? There’s nothing wrong with eating sweets. And if you’re gonna put in so much effort anyway, they might as well actually be sweet and not just bland like in the original recipe. Two tablespoons of sugar is no problem, especially not spread across multiple people on multiple days. People always act like sugar is totally evil, but in truth, it’s healthy as long as you eat it in the right doses, mixed with plenty of other stuff.”

It dawned on Makishima that he’d made a mistake. It had only been ten minutes since the dough was put in the fridge. Twenty more to go. They were filled completely with Toudou ranting about all the misconceptions people had about proper nutrition. Makishima didn’t care at all, he honestly knew that his diet was unhealthy but he just didn’t want to make any effort to better it. But Toudou talked over any attempt of him to change the subject, to Makishima resigned himself to his fate.

Finally, twenty minutes later, the dough saved him. Toudou cut it in half and rolled it out on the table, telling Makishima to pay attention so he could do it with the other half of the dough once they were done with the first part.

Then, Toudou emptied a bag of cookie cutters on the table. “I don’t want to have to wash all of these, so I thought we’d just use the Christmas-y ones, but if you like one or two of the others, we can use those too.”

Toudou started sorting out which ones were Christmas themed – a star, a Christmas tree, a shooting star, an angel, a reindeer – while Makishima looked over the others. In the end, he chose a hippo, because why not, and a bat, because it’d be great to have a Christmas cookie in the shape of Halloween’s symbol. Toudou added a flower as his own personal not-Christmas choice, then put all the other ones away.

Cutting out the cookies turned out to be quite fun, especially once he copied Toudou’s technique to press down the cutter with his flat palm and then wiggle it around a bit to properly separate the cookie from the rest of the dough without damaging it. Besides, Toudou had stopped talking and made an adorably concentrated face as he tried to figure out how to best get all the different shapes to fit together so the least amount of dough would be left over.

Makishima got to mash those leftovers back together and mix them with the second half of the dough while Toudou put their cookies on the oven tray. They had to be decorated before they could be baked though, so that half had to wait. Instead, Makishima finally got to use the yellow part of the egg that had been left over earlier. He painted the cookies with it, using a brush specifically meant for baking, something else he’d never even heard of and definitely didn’t possess. Toudou spread sugar crystals on the cookies, which took much longer than painting the cookies, especially since he had to pick any crystal that fell off a cookie back up so it wouldn’t get baked to the tray. Makishima helped him once he was done, carefully grabbing the crystals out of the bowl Toudou had placed between them.

It was honestly kind of tedious, and Makishima had a hard time not being hyper-aware of the fact that his fingers brushed against Toudou’s every so often.

Once they were done, the cookies were placed in the oven for about 10-15 minutes. Toudou pulled up the second tray, and it was rinse and repeat with the second half of the dough. The only difference was the leftover part, which Toudou rolled into a sausage shape and then cut into circles.

They didn’t quite finish the second tray before the first one was done baking, but Makishima just kept going with the sugar while Toudou pulled the hot cookies out of the oven.

Once the second tray was in, Toudou quickly pulled up pots and pans to start cooking their dinner. Again, Makishima could do nothing but watch. Toudou eventually noticed he was just standing around awkwardly and showed him where to find bowls and chopsticks so he could fill them with rice once the rice cooker was done and carry them over to the coffee table in the living room. Toudou didn’t seem too happy to be eating there instead of in the kitchen – less space, less comfortable and a floor that was harder to clean – but the kitchen table was still dirty and full of baking utensils.

Makishima filled the bowls once the rice cooker beeped to announce it was done, then carried them over to the living room. He took the time to look around a bit instead of going straight back. As expected, Toudou’s apartment was clean even outside the kitchen, but there were plenty of personal items strewn around the room. The walls were decorated with copies of famous Japanese paintings, along with some calligraphy. There was also a giant photo of a traditional house, which the sign over the door identified as Toudou-an. He had to admit, it did look nice.

Below it, plenty of photos of Toudou were put on display on a dresser. Makishima saw him in two different school uniforms, and with what had to be his family at a shrine, and even with the girls Makishima sometimes saw when they came to visit. His theory of the secret multiple girlfriends fell through with this, as they all seemed to know each other. Still, Makishima couldn’t help but notice that Toudou was always surrounded by people, and always vary obviously actively trying to be in the middle of the photo and striking a pose. He really couldn’t fathom why a guy like that had developed enough of an interest in him of all people to invite him over. And on what he declared to be Christmas, too.

He was still mulling it over when Toudou arrived with the rest of their food, but forgot about it for a moment, busy appreciating the luxurious dinner spread before him. Alongside the rice, there was miso soup, two different vegetable dishes – one hot, one cold, and he really should try and learn what these were – and fried fish. When was the last time he’d had rice with more than two side dishes? It must’ve been when he was still living at home, and even then, he often had western food.

It all tasted great, too. When Toudou excitedly asked how it was, all he answered with was “Fine.” He didn’t want to inflate his obviously already large ego any more, but Toudou ignored his effort, taking it as a compliment and proceeding to detail just how great he was for making it.

In turn, Makishima ignored him, instead focusing on the food. Only when most of it was gone did he remember what he’d been thinking about before. He just didn’t understand what Toudou was trying to do.

“Why did you invite me over?” Maybe he could figure it out even if Toudou didn’t answer with the entire truth.

“I already told you, didn’t I? You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas. I just wanted to be nice, and I think it worked out great.”

Well, it had gone much better than Makishima expected, but he still didn’t see why Toudou wouldn’t rather spend time with his friends or family.

“Ah. You just didn’t want to be alone on Christmas yourself. For some reason, you’re not home in Hakone, and your friends were already here yesterday, probably because they’re going home for Christmas. The only one left is the neighbour who never leaves his apartment or has anyone over. I see how it is now.”

“T-that’s not how it is at all!” But Toudou didn’t provide any other explanation, so it probably was exactly like that. Somehow, Makishima liked it way better than Toudou pitying him.

“So, why aren’t you home?”

“Because I’m scheduled to work on the 26th already, and it’s not worth it to go back home for two days in the middle of holiday season while everyone is incredibly busy and I get more time off during New Years anyway, so I’ll be home then. But I’m still not lonely!”

“Sure.”

“Sheesh, is it really that hard to believe I thought you looked like an interesting guy and it’d be a waste if you stayed holed up all by yourself, when you could also be at least my friend?”

Makishima could feel a blush creeping back onto his cheeks. Interesting? At least his friend? “That’s. That’s not what you said so far.”

At least Toudou looked just as embarrassed about it as Makishima felt. But he didn’t respond, and that wasn’t good for Makishima’s thoughts who wanted to spread out in every direction this could possibly lead to. It was just weirdly phrased. He needed to say something. Change the topic. Crush any hope in his dumb gay heart before it got away again.

“Uh, you know, I wanted to ask this for a while now, but which one of these girls that always come to visit you is your girlfriend?” There. That should do it. A smooth change of topic that could simultaneously clear everything up. Makishima was a little proud of himself for finding the right thing to say for once.

“What? None of them. They’re my friends from college. Almost exclusively girls only because nutrition is the kind of subject way more girls than guys major in. We’re still pretty close even after graduating, but it’s purely platonic. I’m pretty good at making friends only with girls who don’t want to date me even when most girls do. So I never have to turn down anyone I actually care about and make things awkward because I’m just not interested.”

Just not interested? Just not interested? In what? A relationship? Romance in general? Sex? Girls?

He’d been wrong. This was not helping. This was making things worse. He should stop saying things forever. Just go home. They were done eating and baking anyway maybe he could excuse himself to get back to work.

Before he could decide, Toudou got up without a word and started taking their dishes back to the kitchen. Just when Makishima wondered if he should get up and help or not and which one Toudou would consider rude, Toudou came back with a plate of the cookies they’d made.

He placed them in front of Makishima with a grin. “Some sweets for the sweet guy?”

“Was. Was that a pickup line?” Makishima burst out laughing. Toudou had said something so stupid with such confidence, there was no way he could not laugh.

“Hey, stop laughing, Maki-chan! It was perfectly smooth and relevant to the situation!”

“It was terrible. No wonder you’re single.” Makishima still had trouble breathing, wheezing between sentences and breaking out into giggles again when he was done talking. Until his brain caught up to what was happening. “Wait, so it was a pickup line? An actual, genuine one?”

“What else would it be?” There was a definite blush on Toudou’s cheeks as well now. He sounded like a petulant child, but maybe that was just how he got when he was embarrassed.

Makishima shrugged. “How would I know? Maybe you’re just a weird guy who says weird things.” He took one of the cookies, biting off the angel’s head. It really was sweet, and the soft cookie with the crunchy sugar on top was a good combination.

“These are good though, I should definitely take some home with me. Absolutely worth it talking to some weird guy for these. Maybe I’ll even talk to him again if he makes me dinner again. Or actually, maybe just letting me sit in this room will be enough, because I do need to work on something traditional and this is a much more fitting environment than my own home.”

Toudou just gawked at him, and even Makishima couldn’t really believe what he just said. Since when was he confident enough to invite himself over into the apartment of a handsome guy who was making advances on him?

“Uh… yeah, sure. You can come here tomorrow and work on your stuff. Or anytime when I’m not working. I can make dinner too?”

Yeah, Makishima definitely liked flustered Toudou. This was shaping up to be really fun. Sadly, with how the conversation was going, he’d probably have to leave soon, but he’d be back tomorrow.

When he had a nice box of cookies packed and Toudou brought him to the door to see him off, Makishima suddenly leaned forward and said “See you tomorrow then, Jinpachi” right into Toudou’s ear. The poor guy couldn’t even answer before Makishima left.

Toudou may have initiated whatever game it was they were playing, but round one definitely went to Makishima.

#toumaki advent calendar 2018 #submission #toumaki #evvazi #evietan

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rosegardentwilight · 6 years ago

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A Moment in Time Chapter 4

Adrien’s jaw dropped from slight bewilderment at why such a gorgeous girl would randomly sit down at his table and start talking away. The only problem? His name wasn’t Adam.

AU- Alya sets Marinette up on a blind date with a guy named Adam, but after a phone incident and the time change, she ends up crashing at a different table thinking it’s her date.

Chapter 3/12? maybe more?

Tagged per request: rosalind2013

A.n.- I think I'm going to repeat how thankful I am for you guys every single chapter because you blow me away with the support this story is getting. It humbles me and makes me work harder to produce a better chapter for you. A couple of things before we start.

1.) There was lots of debate of what Adrien's job was last chapter. He is a Paramedic. Now where I live ( and other places too) there are two kinds, one works out of the hospital and the other has stations that take calls just like firefighters and take calls 24/7. Hopefully, that clears some stuff up.

2. For those of you that haven't noticed, there's a question mark in the chapters. The story has expanded a bit. (Currently, I think it's going to be 12 chapters but that might change so I left it). Yay more chapters.

3. A shoutout to Mermaidyarn and The Novel Artist, because of them, an extra plot element was added that I think everyone would approve of. I know I had fun doing research for it.

“So, what’s about Adrien?” Marinette asked unsure how to start this impromptu conversation. There wasn’t any etiquette that she knew of regarding a stranger visiting you late at night. She ventured back into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove after offering Nathalie tea.

“Maybe you should take a seat Mlle Dupain-Cheng.” From the moment she met Nathalie, her cold demeanor, Marinette could tell that this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation. She took a seat anyway. “I’m going to cut to the chase. M. Agreste wants to offer you a deal.”

“Deal?” she echoed. “What kind of deal, surely there’s nothing that he would want from me.” M. Agreste had all the influence needed to get anything that he wanted. She owned a bakery there was nothing-

“M. Agreste is concerned about his son and the kind of people that his son would spend time with.” Her head still spun from the knowledge that Adrien was her favorite designer’s son. It added some light for another reason he didn’t share his name right away; he might be concerned that she would treat him differently. She should have realized it sooner, but it had been years since he graced the pages of magazines.

“What does this have to do with me?” She stumbled over her words unsure of the direction of the conversation.

“My employer is prepared to pay generously to make the proper influences stay in, or in your case, out, of Adrien’s life.” Her body turned to lead, and for once she was thankful that she was seated.

“Let me get this straight,” she started. “M. Agreste sent you in the middle of the night to bribe me to stay away from his son because he deems me a bad influence?” This couldn’t be happening. “Might I ask what was so despicable about my behavior that caused him to think I’m corrupting his son?” She spat back as her anger levels increased.

“I’m not privy to that information,” Nathalie’s stiff tone provided room for doubt. “He noticed that you had traveled to the bank recently for a loan to open another store.” Nathalie offered out a check. “I’m sure you’ll find this more than satisfactory to cover the gap.” Marinette’s eyes drifted over the paper- that was a lot of zeroes.

“You need to leave,” the tremors laced through her words. “Now.”

“I beg your pardon.” Judging by her body language, she never got asked to leave before.

“Adrien is perfectly capable of choosing his own friends. Not that it’s any of your business, but we are not talking right now, but if that changes that will be between Adrien and me.” Nathalie stood up grabbing the check along with her.

“I’d advise you not to anger him Mlle Dupain-Cheng, M. Agreste is not a patient man. I’ll give you another chance and inform him that you shall think about his offer. It could do big things for your bakery, especially since you two are not corresponding currently.” She placed her card on the table in front of Marinette nodded curtly and headed straight for the door.

Tikki couldn’t help but push her worry into her baking. Marinette left at 10 to travel across town for a cake tasting, but even before she left, she wasn’t acting her usual self. She forgot who she was meeting with several times throughout the hour, pulled a batch of underbaked croissants out of the oven, not to mention misplaced her keys. Not that Marinette would confess if anything did bother her, but Tikki began to wonder if her behavior was caused by the Adrien news finally settling in. It didn’t take much to see that she liked Adrien, what he did must have really affected her. Tikki didn’t usually speak up too much, but she knew that if the two got over this hump that the pair could make each other happy. The bell above the door chimed signaling a customer, Tikki quickly gathered the remaining dough and slid it into the fridge. She only made the couple steps to the doorframe when she stopped, and a gasp escaped her lips.

Why was he here?

Tikki thought that after they left the bakery that she wouldn’t see either of the boys again, but there he stood in the bakery, Adrien’s friend. She ruffled down the front of her apron and nervously smoothed the hairs that shifted out of place. She rationalized that she would have done the same for any customer, not just ones she found cute.

“How may I help you?” She asked in her usual chipper voice. When she saw his mouth parted and eyes widened, she regretted it. Perhaps she could tone her tone; she had been told before that her excitement over baked goods intimidated people.

“Uh-I was looking for”- For a reason that she couldn’t put her finger on, her heart sunk. That’s why he was here, for Marinette, it didn’t have anything to do with her.

“She’s not here,” she finished his thought for him.

“Who?” The general confusion in his voice brought her attention to his melt-worthy green eyes. Not that she would ever admit to that.

“Marinette.”

“Well,” he squinted to read her name tag, “Tikki, I’m actually here to finally taste the pastries Adrien keeps raving about. He doesn’t even know that I’m here.”

“Oh,” her gaze shot down to her feet hoping if she could focus enough she could slip into the floor. “The cheese ones, right?” The order came swiftly to mind; not many customers ordered three pastries with the intent not to share.

“Some of the best kinds, if you ask me.”

“I’m more partial towards the ones with the raspberry jam myself.” She pulled back the glass to gain access to the pastries.

“Well, that makes sense because you’re so sweet.” Tikki stopped mid-reach and glanced up this time a confident smirk on her face.

“Does that make you cheesy?” Normally she would never flirt with the customers, but this one time could be an exception.

“Only in the best way possible...and if it means that I can take you out this weekend.”

Tikki blinked in surprise at his boldness before turning away to box the food and hide the growing heat in her face.

“No, it doesn’t,” she replied. Marinette would kill her if she said yes, especially with where things were up in the air with Adrien.

“Oh,” Tikki turned to see his facial features sink in disappointment. She didn’t want to leave him there. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a sharpie and grabbed it. Her number followed by several digits were placed on the box before Plagg even noticed.

“But you can have my number.” The way his face lit up caused a small flutter in her chest.

“I’ll see you around, Cookie.” A wink accompanied the nickname.

“Cookie?” She called out. “Is that just because I work in a bakery?” If that was the case, it didn’t impress her in the least.

“I’ll only tell you if you agree to that date with me.” As tempting as giving in to her curiosity was, she had to keep her boss in mind. She already flirted with the line when she handed out her number.

“I think I can handle the torture of not knowing.” She places her hand on her lip to emphasize her answer, but it didn’t faze him.

“Suit yourself, Cookie.” Plagg slipped out, and Tikki found she needed the counter as support for her wobbly knees. Moments later her phone dinged with a message from an unknown number. It contained a picture of the empty box and three words that skyrocketed her pulse with excitement.

See you tomorrow.

“No way!” Adrien crossed his arms across his chest. “You can count me out; there’s no way I’m doing something that embarrassing.” In retrospect, he should have seen this coming. The meeting for the annual fundraiser for charity always landed around this time of the year. Bad ideas always got tossed around, and this one was no different. Adrien never imagined a sexy EMT calendar idea would ever make it to the meeting where the chief would sit in, and yet, here they were.

“Come on Adrien,” Charlie prodded teasingly. “It’s for charity! Think of all the good you can pour back into the community and all you have to do pose for a couple of photos. How is this any different from your modeling career when you were younger?” Adrien’s body stiffened. He had concealed that information to avoid being relentlessly teased. There was no way that they could have found out — the one person who knew was Plagg.

“This is very different!” Adrien tried to argue, but by the look on their faces, no one believed him.

“You had teenage girls gawking at you then, and you’ll have women ogling you now.” James piped in.

“And besides the guys took a vote to put you on the cover, and Chief already approved it,” Luc replied. It was evident by the groans and eye rolls that it should have remained a secret. Adrien’s eyes bolted wide. It was one thing to participate, but if you were featured on the cover, you were the face of the campaign.

“What?!”

“Let me talk some sense into him.” Plagg guided him away before he could give them a piece of his mind. Once the trucks have them some privacy, Adrien slugged his friend in the arm.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell them!” He hissed in annoyance.

“I didn’t! A single internet search can reveal all your deep dark photo shoots in more damaging ways than I can.” Adrien would be inclined to believe him if he hadn’t been his friend for the last couple of years.

“You left the site up for them to see.” He started as a fact as everything clicked together in his brain.

“It may have randomly pulled up after I heard rumors that they wanted me to be on the cover,” he confessed.

“Plagg!”

“Think of it this way; you could use it to win over bakery girl.” Adrien’s anger stilled at the nickname.

“Marinette?” He echoed. “How?”

“Think about it. If Marinette sees you in a calendar where you ooze your sex appeal, she won’t be able to resist you.” Plagg held up His hands in front of his person to prevent another punch.

“Like that will ever happen,” Adrien snorted, “Marinette isn’t like that.”

“She has eyes, doesn’t she?” Plagg shot back defensively. “Besides, it’s not like your plan is working spectacularly.” Adrien opened to shoot back a snarky remark when he realized that Plagg was right. He had put forth flowers, and it got him kicked out of her bakery. He had nothing left to lose.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he growled. “But there’s a flaw in your ‘master plan,’ she might not even see it.”

A ding filled the air, and Plagg’s lips tucked back into a smirk not needing to look to know the sender. “Let me handle that.”

Marinette forced on a smile while trying not to look at her phone. Their first coffee date had gone so well she found herself hopeful among all of Alya’s ‘I told you so.’ Tonight, was far from what she imagined. Adam arrived late which he explained away with work. She didn’t mind that; it was everything after that that slowly worked on her nerves.

Adam had suggested this hot new sushi place that had opened recently. And Marinette held back a cringe. It wasn’t that she didn’t like sushi, it more had to do with the texture of it. She forced it down when she had to, but not ideal for a date. She confessed her feelings for the food and suggested a couple of other places they could go instead. The date ended abruptly by Adam’s boss calling, and he had to high tail it to the office for a prominent client.

Imagine her surprise when they pulled up to the sushi restaurant. Her lips pressed into a thin line but didn’t say anything as she got out of the car. He flashed a warm smile, but it did nothing to lift her mood.

“Marinette?” Her head snapped up to meet his gaze. “Is everything ok? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“I just don’t like it all that much,” she confessed. Hopefully, the words would prompt Adam to remember when she explicitly told him that she didn’t care for sushi.

“We’ll get it sent back. Here, have some of mine instead. It’s delicious.” He switched plates and called over a waiter before she could object. The thought might have been sweet if the sushi wasn’t the problem in the first place. “So, how’s planning for that cook-off going.”

“Baking competition,” she corrected. Cook-off made it sound like a competitive barbecue. “I’m still working on the right combination. I was thinking of maybe doing something with chocolate and raspberries because-“ she slowed watch him lose interest being pulled back into his work phone.

A sigh left her lips as she fought the urge to get up and leave despite being all the way across the city. They had such a good time on their first date; she didn’t know what happened. Maybe he acted like this when things became too stressful at work. She’d hate to write him off over one lousy date.

“Adam?” He looked up at her call. “I’m not feeling well. Is there any way we could do a rain check?” It would be best to put the night behind them and start over on a different day.

“Absolutely,” he chirped. “Just let me flag down the waiter for the check.”

Adam dropped her off at home, and immediately she took off to her second home. Marinette sat on at an open table within her closed bakery glancing back to the kitchen wondering how many batches she could cook before her body would give out for the day. She glanced at her phone almost wishing that Adrien would have texted her today. Despite how silly the text was, it brought a smile every time she read them. Her phone only had one text from Adam claiming how good a time he had.

If only the feelings were mutual.

She at least had a better time with Adam than Kim, but that didn’t say much. It seemed that work texts or emails kept getting in the way and that caused him not to listen. Marinette was sure he had to be a good guy, they had to go where there were no distractions.

She couldn’t help but allow her mind to drift back to Adrien throughout the meal. There was no doubt that she had more fun with him than Adam the only downside to Adrien was that his father hated her guts enough to offer money to stay away. The thought crushed any childhood idea she had that if she got back into design that one day she could work at Gabriel’s with enough work.

As alluring as the money was, she would find another way to get the money for the bakery. She wouldn’t be pushed around and told who and who not she could be friends with. By the way, Nathalie spoke it sounded like M Agreste was under the impression that deeper feelings were there; that couldn’t be true though. They only had one date. The first impression was important, but not everything. Cheeks flushed she pulled another part of her muffin off and placed it in her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, passing through the window was something very blonde and familiar. His hands were shoved in his pocket and eyes trained on the ground as he walked; he probably didn’t even realize she was there.

She shot up from her seat. If fate brought him to her, how could she pass up the opportunity? Her feet tripped over themselves as she raced to the door- screw M. Agreste’s potential wrath.

“Adrien!” She called out, his name leaving a honey taste on her lips. She missed talking to him.

The man spun around with no hesitation at the sound of her voice. Marinette’s eyes lingered on his face for a second. The area resting under his eyes were bagged; he looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep, a feeling she could relate with.

“What are you doing?” Not her best question after the way they parted. He blinked at her his head tilted slightly.

“Going for a walk,” he strained his reply. “Uh-I didn’t think you would be in the bakery this late.” Marinette felt the echoes of her heart fluttering as he stepped toward her. “I’ll start taking another way. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

Marinette ignored his last sentence hoping that her invitation would answer that question. “I was just about to make a practice batch for the competition...would you like to join me?”

“You mean it?”

“I mean-I don’t want to interrupt your walk.” Marinette had to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t ramble, “I wanted some company.”

“Then I am all yours.” The way he said yours caused goosebumps to litter her arm. Even if this was a bad idea, it was too late to go back now.

An hour later the pair were doubled over in laughter not even noticing the blotches of flour remained from their playful war earlier that night. Adrien currently entertained them with funny stories of calls he had been dispatched on.

“We got the call, and I thought I heard wrong. The dispatcher said that some teenager had sustained some head injury from falling off a lion. But we got directed towards the zoo.” Adrien was reveling in this feeling. Every time he looked over she was engaged listening on bated breath.

“No way,” she swatted at his arm playfully almost causing him to mess up the story.

“Three teenagers decided it would be an amazing idea to break into the zoo and get up close and personal with the animals.”

“What made decide to be a paramedic?” A soft, sad smile appeared as his eyes fell to the table instead of her.

“I love helping people when they need it. No matter what the outcome I know I did everything I could to save them.” When he felt a warm hand slid on top of his Adrien’s eyes jumped up to hers.

“I think it’s amazing what you do for the city.” Despite the reassurance she provided with a squeeze, Adrien still skeptically scoffed.

“I don’t think my father would agree. He thinks I’m much better suited running the empire that he built.”

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing that too, but if you enjoy what you do, it hardly feels like work.” Marinette jumped when Adrien’s thumb started stroking the edge of her hand lovingly.

“Thank you,” he murmured. The moment shattered when the timer rang signaling the end of the cooling period. Marinette removed two pieces, but before she could taste her creation, Adrien reached out and tugged on her arm.

“Wait, I have an idea, and we need to do this right.” He acquires a perplexed look as he began wrapping a nearby clean towel.

“Adrien”- her vision darkened. “How am I supposed to eat it?”

“Leave that to me.” She wasn’t aware that he shifted until his hot breath lingered outside her ear. “Your senses are heightened this way. Have I ever led you astray...in culinary matters.” Even though he couldn’t see, Marinette rolled her eyes, and her lips released a giggle.

“Ok, I trust you, but no funny business.” She gasped when his hands gently grabbed either side of her shoulders. “No funny business,” he confirmed, but she could hear his smile. He guided her a few more steps, and she felt the stool, so she sat down grateful that she didn’t fall in doing so. Her ears picked up the sounds of the fork gently scraping against the plate.

“Open,” he whispered, and she immediately complied. The chocolate and peanut butter flavor danced on her taste buds leaving joy in their wake. Marinette released a hum of appreciation, but it ended in more of a moan.

Adrien was a train wreck, he thought this would be one of his better ideas, but the second that sound hit his ears, he was a goner. His eyes darted down to a crumble that rested on her lip and swallowed hard. She was close enough to close the gap without a second thought. He daydreamed what it would be like, but his promise to her kept him from acting on it.

“You got something...” his voice trailed away not trusting himself at the moment. He gently ran his finger along her lip knocking the morsel free. He jerked his hand back to the side afraid he let his touch linger too long. “Uh- How was it?”

“Perfect,” Marinette struggled to maintain the illusion of control in her voice. “I think it’s the base of recipes”- In the process of standing up, she didn’t realize how close he had been until she slid off the temporary blindfold. Adrien eyes wide mouth parted slightly, and conflicting emotions conflicted emotions stamped on his features.

“That’s great,” he replied but made no effort to create more distance between them.

“Yeah,” Marinette caved and let her eyes flicker down to his lips for only a second. “Adrien,” she leaned in, and he followed suit just as their lips brushed-Alya’s ringtone acted as an ice bucket splashing the two back to reality. Marinette’s cheeks exploded with color as she slipped around him and fumbled to lift the phone to her ear.

“Hey Alya,” Adrien’s focus turned to the floor not wanting to eavesdrop, but on the other hand, it was hard to ignore when she was right there. “I’m at the bakery.” She paused, and he managed to look up just enough to time to see him glance her way. “My date went fine, Alya…no, I’m not brushing you off. I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Adrien couldn’t stop his heart from sinking off the high he experienced moments ago.

She had Adam. How could he forget?

If she had another date with Adam that meant that there was something between them, and he- almost ruined that.

Guilt ripped at his insides. He couldn’t interfere if Marinette held any feelings for Adam he had to step back. He’d rather be her friend than not have her in his life at all.

When she rounded back, the look she sported screamed injured puppy, and his stomach turned to lead.

“I’m sorry-“ he held out a hand to stop her from going any further.

“I’m the one that’s sorry. We got caught up in a moment,” Adrien paused internally cursing at what he was about to do. Plagg would yell at him later, but he started this off with a lie. He needed to be honest with her if he wanted any chance of a relationship in the future.

“I like you.” Probably more than I should, he mentally added. “But for now, I think it’s best if we’re friends.” The word tasted bitter on his tongue. He couldn’t be the reason their relationship wouldn’t work.

“Friends?” She echoed bewildered.

“I still want to spend time with you.”

As much as you’ll give me.

“But I know you still have Adam, but I was thinking friends hang out, so I was hoping that maybe we could go on a friend date.” He stopped before his word vomit could fully activate.

“I’d like that.” Her smile radiated off her sending warmth through his body. “It’s getting late; I should probably go home.”

“Can I walk you?” His question born out of gut instinct. He didn’t want their time to end. “You shouldn’t be walking the streets this late by yourself.”

“I would love to, but my car is right there.” His heart deflated as they stepped out into the night air.

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

“Goodnight.” There was a pause as she fiddled with her car keys. “Adrien?”

“Yes?” She closed the gap and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.” He barely caught sight of the subtle blush on her features.

“You’re welcome,” he stood there until her car drove off before he lifted his hand to his cheek. The kiss lingered, and Adrien found he couldn’t break his dopey grin. Maybe there was hope after all.

Adrien unlocked the door and pushed his way into his apartment. Within moments he heard a soft sound. “I know I’m home later than I promised, I’m sorry.” Where he picked up the habit of talking to his cat, he didn’t know, but every time he did he felt less alone.

Another chorus of meows endured.

“But I can’t wait to tell you all about my night.” Adrien continued through the motions of opening the cat food and pouring it into the bowl. “She’s amazing Chat; I wish you could meet her; you would like her.” A glum sigh slipped through his lips. Although a friend date was less than a real date, it beat her not talking to him at all.

“I could talk to her for hours.” He sunk back into the couch allowing his mind to replay the events of the night over and over. It got interrupted by Chat tracing his side flicking his tail in Adrien’s face. “Alright, I get it bud.” He scooped the black cat into his lap and began to stroke him earning a purr. The movement released his stress he pent up, about his father, the calendar and Marinette. The world faded leaving only him and his cat cuddled on the couch slowly allowing sleep to claim him.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #miraculousfanfic #miraculousladybugfanfiction #adrienette #adrien x marinette #now to write promts

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terriblelifechoices · 7 years ago

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I keep meaning to get caught up on comment fic, and then I never do. Sorry, guys.

For the delightful ToraMeri, who found one of my terribly nerdy fic Easter Eggs. The original version can be read on AO3 here.

New York, the same evening as the Special Tribunal

Dorothy gave the bread dough an encouraging pat and set it aside to rise. She liked baking bread without magic; Alex swore he could taste the love she put into it in every bite, which was silly, but reason enough to keep baking the No-Maj way as far as she was concerned.

The wards chimed gently, alerting her to her visitor a full thirty seconds before there was a knock on the front door of their apartment.

Dorothy hesitated. That was an Auror's trick, she knew. It was considered polite to announce your presence just outside an Auror's home: to brush your magic against their wards and let them know you were there.

Why would an Auror be calling on her in the middle of the day?

Had something happened to Alex?

Dorothy opened the front door with trembling fingers, bracing herself to find a grim-faced Family Liaison on the other side.

She was not expecting Director Graves.

Dorothy burst into tears.

"Oh," said Director Graves, sounding a bit flustered. "Oh, no. Please don't cry, Mrs. Collins." He offered her a plain white handkerchief.

"I'm so sorry," Dorothy blubbered, accepting the handkerchief. "I don't know what's come over me. Please come in." Her mother had said that being with child took witches this way sometimes, but being this much of a watering pot was mortifying. "I'm so glad you're back," she said, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

His handkerchief wasn't embroidered. Dorothy frowned at it. Director Graves' handkerchiefs had all been monogrammed with his initials. She knew that because Alex had come home with one wrapped around his arm one evening. He'd had some minor cut he hadn't considered worth bothering the healers over, and Director Graves had given it to him to "keep him from leaking all of the crime scene." She'd gotten the blood out and ironed it and sent it back via Alex, along with a batch of her best chocolate chip cookies.

She wondered if this was the real Director Graves, or if Grindelwald had somehow escaped.

She dismissed that thought a second later. Grindelwald was a madman, but surely he had better things to do than accost the wives of random Aurors.

Not to mention that this Director Graves looked unwell. His fine suit had been well tailored, and the bold red of his shirt made it look like he had some color in his face. None of it hid the starved hollows of his cheeks, or the way his eyes were constantly moving, tracking the exits.

"It's good to be back," Director Graves said, politely ignoring the last of her sniffles. "I'm sorry to drop in on you unannounced." He held out a slab of baker's chocolate. "For the house," he murmured, as if she were some high society matron he needed to pay tribute to with a hearthgift.

Dorothy couldn't quite wrap her head around what was happening right now. Hearthgifts were an old tradition; hardly anyone remembered them these days. It was a way of acknowledging the one who kept the hearth and made it a home.

Dorothy realized that she was staring and dropped her gaze, reaching out to accept the chocolate. Accepting it was only polite, unless she meant to deny him entry into her home. And doing that would have been rude, because she'd already invited him in.

The chocolate had been stamped with the Speedwell logo. It wasn't just for baking – it was medicinal. Speedwell chocolate was a key ingredient in a lot of restorative charms. This much of it had to have cost the Director dearly.

"Thank you," she said, sounding a little faint to her own ears. She must have sounded ridiculous to his. "Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps? Or a cookie? I just finished up some baking."

"No, thank you," said Director Graves politely. He looked horribly betrayed when his stomach rumbled a minute later. "On second thought, something to nibble on would be lovely."

"Of course," said Dorothy. "Have a seat in the living room. I'll be right out."

Director Graves hesitated.

Had she misstepped somehow?

"Unless you'd rather eat in the kitchen?"

"I'd like that, if it's alright with you."

"It's fine," Dorothy assured him. She was more comfortable in her kitchen, anyway.

... That was an Auror's trick too, wasn't it? People were more inclined to be careless in their own territory, where they felt relaxed and safe.

Sometimes being an Auror's spouse was more trouble than it was worth. Learning the way they thought made you suspicious of everyone, which was ridiculous, as far as Dorothy was concerned. Not everyone was a criminal.

Dorothy fetched Director Graves a sandwich. It was nothing fancy, just slices of last night's chicken with tomato and caramelized onion and cheese. She toasted it with a flick of her wand and served it up with a couple of the biggest, chewiest chocolate chip cookies. She normally saved her best baking for Alex, but the Director's half-starved gauntness made her itch to feed him up. She didn't think Alex would begrudge Director Graves the cookies.

Director Graves wolfed the sandwich down with gratifying speed. "Merlin and Morgana and all of Arthur's knights," he said. "That was delicious."

What had Grindelwald done to him, that a simple sandwich was met with so much pleasure? The man Dorothy remembered was quieter, more restrained: less openly appreciative.

He looked somewhat embarrassed that the words had escaped a second later. Dorothy suspected that the man she remembered was still in there. She didn't want to embarrass him further, so she politely ignored his slip-up.

"I suppose you must be wondering why I'm here," he said.

"A little," she confessed. "It's not Alex, is it?" She couldn't bear it if something had happened to Alex. Not now that they were starting a family. And especially not after the last few days. Alex – her Alex – had spent months in Grindelwald's company. Grindelwald could have killed him anytime he wanted, and the near miss of it made her dizzy with belated terror. It wasn't rational – she knew it wasn't rational – but it still kept her from sleeping at night. Grindelwald could have lured Alex somewhere remote, and Alex would have gone with him because he thought Grindelwald was Director Graves. Grindelwald could have killed him, and no one would have ever known.

Tears prickled at her eyelids again. She wasn't going to start crying again. She wasn't. Director Graves was back, Grindelwald was behind bars, and if she knew Director Graves he'd make sure Grindelwald stayed there and couldn't hurt anyone ever again, least of all Alex.

"No," Director Graves said, reaching out to clasp her hand in his own. "It's not Alex."

His grip was as strong as ever. Dorothy anchored herself in that and managed to avoid bursting into tears once more.

"That's good," she said, relieved. "What is it, then?"

He hesitated. For a second, Dorothy thought he looked vulnerable, which was plainly ridiculous. Director Graves was one of the most powerful wizards in America. He and President Picquery had been re-setting the standards of modern wizardry since they were children together at Ilvermorny.

"I wonder," Director Graves said carefully, "if I might ask a favor of you."

Dorothy stared at him, certain that she'd heard him wrong. What favor could she possibly do for him?

"You needn't feel obligated to say yes," he added. "Only that you'll consider it."

"I suppose that depends on the favor," Dorothy replied, just as carefully. She wasn't Alex. She wouldn't blindly follow Director Graves into hell just because he was Director Graves. But she'd do anything in her power within reason to help him. She liked him; he was a good boss, and every Auror's spouse she knew gave thanks that he was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, because there were fewer Auror deaths under his tenure than there had been under anyone else since MACUSA was founded. He was careful with his people, Director Graves. Their lives weren't coins to be spent lightly.

"Have you heard any of the rumors?" Director Graves asked. "About when I was found?"

Dorothy hesitated, because she had. The New York Ghost had been vicious about Director Graves' potential collaboration. Alex had worried himself sick over what the Special Tribunal might do to the Director.

She realized, belatedly, that if he was sitting in her kitchen the Special Tribunal must have ruled in his favor.

"I don't believe you're a collaborator," she told him. "I never did. Neither does Alex."

"Ah," said the Director. He sighed. "Collins, your discretion amazes me."

Dorothy frowned. That did not sound like a slight, but it didn't sound like a compliment, either.

"I take it Collins didn't mention there was someone else with me, the night I was found?"

"No," said Dorothy. "He tries not to talk about work at home. He thinks it will upset me." Sometimes it did, and sometimes it didn't, but that wasn't for him to decide, the foolish man.

"Ah," Director Graves said again. "That makes this a bit harder to explain." He took a deep breath. "There was someone else with me in Grindelwald's prison. Another wizard. He fell through the cracks, and he grew up unaware of our world, or his heritage. Grindelwald found him." Director Graves hesitated. "I love him," he said plainly. "He's carrying my child, and I intend to marry him. But I know how difficult it is, to be an Auror's spouse, and I ... I had hoped, that you might take him under your wing, the way Angelica Summersea did for you. I'd consider it a personal favor."

A personal favor from a scion of the Twelve was as good as dragots in the bank. Dorothy couldn’t imagine ever needing to cash such a favor in.

She wondered what it had cost him to come here and ask this of her. The man she remembered was a proud one, unwilling to let anyone else share his burdens. It was a point of frustration for his team, Alex included. He had their back, no matter what, but they were rarely permitted the chance to guard his.

Director Graves had spent the last twenty years of his life making sure that everyone around him knew that the Graves family still intended to shield their people from harm by whatever means necessary. He was possessive over the people he considered his, but in the way that dragons and kings were possessive: as the possessor, not the possessed.

Love changed things, though. Love made you possessor and possessed by default. Dorothy was Alex’s and he was hers; they were partners and equals. That was the way love worked.

“Why me?” she asked, bewildered. “Why not Angelica?” She knew Director Graves had met Angelica, who had phenomenal grace and poise. More than that, Angelica wasn’t intimidated by anyone or anything, which surely made her a better example of what it took to be Director Graves’ spouse than Dorothy would be. Dorothy was ordinary in every sense of the word, little better than a hearth witch.

Dorothy thought she saw him relax just a little, but she might have been imagining that.

“Credence is closer to your age than Angelica’s,” the director told her. “He knows very little about our world, not even the basic charms every child grows up knowing. He’d make himself miserable, trying to match Angelica’s poise and political savvy, because he’d think that being like her was the best way for him to be useful to me.

“I don’t want him to be useful, Mrs. Collins. I want him to be happy. I think you could teach him the basics in a way that wouldn’t make him feel miserable or ashamed. More than that, though, I think that the two of you would get along. He wants to learn to cook. Credence…” There was no mistaking the way Director Graves’ voice softened when he said his fiancé’s name. He really loved this Credence, whoever he was. Director Graves cleared his throat. “Credence has the kindest, most generous heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Anyone else who has been through the things he’d survived would be totally justified if it had made him cruel, or mean, but Credence is kind.” He smiled, a little shyly, and Dorothy had a sudden idea of what he must have looked like two decades ago: boyish and sweet. “Truth be told, you remind me a little of him.”

“Oh,” said Dorothy. There was, she knew, no higher praise than being favorably compared to the one person someone else loved with every fiber of their being.

“Yes,” she said. “Of course. I’d be delighted to meet him.”

He definitely relaxed after that. “Thank you,” he said. He reached out and took her hand, raising it to his lips. “I owe you a debt, Mrs. Collins. Please, feel free to call on us tomorrow. We’re in a safe house,” he added, as if this was a perfectly ordinary statement. Maybe for him, it was. And then he said, “The safe house is at 111 Park.”

Dorothy stared at him. She was fairly certain that MACUSA’s Director of Magical Security had just told him where a safe house had been hidden under a Fidelius Charm. Her! Dorothy Collins! Who wasn’t an Auror or even part of MACUSA or anything.

“Oh my word,” she said faintly.

He smiled, a little impish. “I’ll see myself out,” he said. He walked out the front door before she could insist that he take some food home with him.

“Oh my,” Dorothy said to her empty kitchen. “Dorothy Collins, you’re coming up in the world.” Director Graves wanted her to mentor his future husband.

His future husband, who was carrying his child.

Director Graves was Alex’s boss and also his teammate. If anyone else on Alex’s team had been expecting a child, Dorothy would have made their baby something special, rather than gift them with one of the blankets she knitted when the mood took her. Someone at MACUSA or in their apartment building was always having a baby, so it paid to have a few gifts on hand.

She went into her sewing room and pulled out an intricately cabled blanket made out of cream colored yarn. It was, she admitted, one she’d planned on giving her own baby, but she had time to make a new one. This one was special. There were runes for protection and love and safety worked into the cables.

She’d give it to Credence tomorrow. She hoped he liked it. She hoped he liked her.

The Aurors spouses were comrades in arms, in much the same way their Aurors were. But she hoped that they could be friends, too. It would be nice to have someone her age who understood what she was going through.

Maybe chocolate chip cookies would help. No one could resist her cookies. Dorothy wandered back into the kitchen, mind full of plans for tomorrow.

A/N 1: IDK if there’s something magical about Honeyduke’s chocolate bars, or if JKR just believes in the healing power of chocolate. It could go either way, really, but the idea of magic chocolate was too much fun to pass up on, hence the Speedwell’s.

A/N 2: I am a wee baby knitter - you want it crocheted, I’m your girl - but I refuse to believe that knitting is not Actual Bloody Magic. Seriously. Have you seen cables and colorwork?

#my fic #comment fic #fbawtft #Possible 'verse #percival graves #dorothy collins

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chardscarf12-blog · 5 years ago

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Chocolate Pistachio Cream Thumbprints

Chocolate, Cookies, Desserts

Chocolate Pistachio Cream Thumbprints

March 11, 2019 — by Lindsay

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If you love pistachio gelato, you’ll love these delightful little cookies, with a rich chocolate shortbread and a center of luxurious pistachio cream.

Thumbprints are one of my all time favorite cookie recipes, and this chocolate pistachio one is no exception; dare I say I love it even more than my go-to jam-filled thumbprints? Chocolate shortbread paired with a creamy pistachio filling takes this old favorite to a whole new level.

Rewind to last year in Venice when three gelati a day was not an unusual occurrence. But out of all the cups and cones and scoops, the one that stuck out the most was the Manet flavor from SuSo (called that, I assume because it is truly a work of art). With a rich and creamy hazelnut base and a ribbon of salted pistachio gianduja swirled throughout; it was, to put it simply, life changing.

On our last day we all agreed we needed one last scoop (ok, three scoops). As we were waiting in the tiny, unassuming shop, trying to decide which of the many other delicious flavors to round out our cones (because a scoop of Manet was a given), I noticed a small stack of jars on a shelf in the corner. Upon closer inspection I discovered that this was the stuff, the magic pistachio concoction used in the Manet gelato. I immediately grabbed a jar (I paid for it, promise) which I lovingly wrapped in my fluffiest sweatshirt and carted back home with me to the states.

…where it has since sat in the fridge, untouched, for nearly 9 months.

Please tell me I’m not the only one who ‘savors’ special delicacies like this? Hoarding them, not wanting to use them up, until, inevitably, they expire. Whether it be Swiss chocolate or Japanese KitKats or Portuguese sardines, I fully admit it: I’m a hoarder. Such a travesty, and I’m really working hard to fix this fatal flaw about myself, trying not to hoard the goodness I bring home from my travels, but rather enjoy it and not let it go to waste.

So I set about using this little jar of wonder. And when I say little, I do mean miniscule. Far too small to use in a batch of homemade gelato, for instance.

However the idea of a pistachio thumbprint, a chocolate pistachio thumbprint, fluttered through my mind, and once it had, I couldn’t unthink it. It engulfed my thoughts, sending me on a wild internet search for pistachio pastes and creams and butters from all corners of the globe.

I couldn’t rest until this cookie became a reality.

And, oh, what a wonderful reality it is.

The chocolate shortbread is rich and buttery, somewhere in between a sable and a sugar cookie.

I rolled half the cookies in finely chopped pistachios, and left the other half plain for contrast. I like the extra crunch the nuts bring to the party, however the naked ones were just as delicious (because, let’s face it, the filling is really the star of the show here).

Speaking of that filling: it’s surprising how simply mixing pistachio butter and white chocolate produces something this divine. Almost velvety in texture, soft to the bite but firm enough that it won’t ooze onto your fingers, with a mellow pistachio flavor and just the right amount of salt to offset the subtle sweetness. Dare I say it tastes a bit like pistachio gelato, with a bit more salt and a lot less brain freeze.

I added a touch of pistachio extract to amp up the pistachio flavor even more (pistachio extract being the primary flavor of pistachio gelato, since actual pistachios are really quite mild). This is totally optional, but a little bit in both the cookies and the filling makes for a truly delicious bite.

Funnily enough, the jar that inspired it all didn’t actually make it into the final recipe. As much as I love the pistachio gianduja from SuSo, it turns out the consistency is far too thin for these cookies, it obviously being better suited to more frosty applications. (Don’t worry, I shan’t let it go to waste!)

Instead, I set about creating a filling with a similar flavor profile but a better consistency for this particular recipe, made from pistachio butter, white chocolate and a bit of sugar and salt.

Pistachio cream, paste, butter… what’s the difference?

There’s no hard and fast designation, but generally, pistachio butter is just plain pistachios with a bit of oil and/or salt.

Pistachio paste is typically sweetened, often with added flavoring like almond extract and green coloring. This is what gelato makers use to flavor their frozen creations, and it’s surprisingly hard to find outside of giant food-service sized tubs.

Pistachio cream, on the other hand, is heaven in a jar. It’s a sweetened pistachio spread similar in consistency to nutella, sweetened and enriched with cocoa butter, milk powder, and other ingredients (in other words, basically pistachio and white chocolate since the main ingredients of white chocolate are, in fact, cocoa butter, milk powder and vanilla). Pistachio cream varies quite a bit from brand to brand. I bought a few different kinds and liked Pariani and Fiasconaro brands the best (the former had a more robust flavor, while the later was a prettier green color).

Since pistachio cream isn’t exactly cheap (or easy to come by), and I didn’t want this recipe to be reliant on such a specialty product, I decided to made a semi-homemade version with pistachio butter and white chocolate. It’s essentially a white chocolate pistachio gianduja (normally a mix of milk chocolate and hazelnut) and let me tell you is it fantastic and I can imagine myriad delicious ways in which to use it (pistachio truffles, anyone)?

I tried a few different brands of pistachio butter, and ultimately liked the richer green color of the one from The Pistachio Factory the best. Fiddyment Farms makes a lovely tasting butter too, albeit less saturated in color (they actually call it a paste, but it’s not sweetened at all, just pure pistachio).

The white chocolate also has the added benefit of setting as it cools, like a creamy truffle center, making for a cookie that can be stacked or piled without getting filling everywhere (can you say, perfect party cookie?) If you used straight pistachio butter or jarred pistachio cream, the filling would stay more fluid and you’d need to be more careful transporting or storing the cookies.

That said, you can certainly use pistachio cream right out of the jar in these cookies to save yourself some time. Or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, you could even make a totally from-scratch version starting with homemade pistachio butter (home appliances can’t achieve the same smooth texture as store-bought, so your centers will be more rustic).

But Lindsay, how’d you get your pistachios so green?!?

I’m sure you’ve noticed that if you buy a bag of pre-shelled pistachios, even raw ones, they are usually seriously lacking in the color department. I mean, that top bowl of nuts is disappointing, to say the least.

Baking Tip: for prettier, greener pistachios, start with raw in-shell pistachios rather than shelled. Blanch and peel to reveal the electric green kernels underneath.

Indeed the secret to vibrant green pistachios is to start with raw, whole pistachios. Remove the shells, then blanch the nuts in boiling water for 30 seconds. Drain, rinse in cold water, and then peel (the blanching should make the thin brown skins easier to remove). I’ve seen recipes say you can rub the blanched nuts with a clean kitchen towel to more quickly remove the skins, but that didn’t work very well for me so I peeled them one at a time. Yes, it’s a tedious process (and now you know why high quality pistachio spreads are so pricey).

After peeling, spread the nuts out to dry on a layer of paper towels, then grind into nut butter or finely chop for a vibrant green garnish.

If you’re making homemade pistachio butter, this will produce a much more vibrant final product. However, if you opt not to blanch and peel the nuts first, you’ll end up with a butter that’s more brown in color, but still perfectly delicious.

One quirk about these cookies to note: much like my jam thumbprints, these cookies, for whatever reason, bake up better on a light to medium colored cookie sheet. I baked a few cookies on three different cookie sheets just to test, and sure enough, the batch baked on the heavy aluminum cookie sheet turned out the best. Darker/nonstick cookie sheets tended to get a bit ruffly around the edges and crispier on the bottoms.

If you’re having issues with these cookies spreading a bit too much, try a different cookie sheet before you try anything else. You can also try chilling the dough briefly. Cool room temperature dough is ideal here, it should still be fairly pliable or the cookies will crack when you shape them.

For me at least, refrigerating/freezing the shaped cookies before baking them didn’t produce any noticeable differences, but if your kitchen is on the warm side it certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Also: now that I have all these various pistachio products sitting around you can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be baking some gelato!

Yield: approximately 2 dozen cookies

Chocolate Pistachio Cream Thumbprints

Cook Time: 10 minutes

Total Time: 1 hour

Print Recipe

Ingredients:

For Chocolate Thumbprints:

10 tablespoons (142g) unsalted butter, at room temperature

2/3 cup (140g) granulated sugar

1 large egg yolk (reserve the white if you will be rolling in nuts)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 teaspoon pistachio extract (optional)

1 1/4 cups (156g) all-purpose flour

1/3 cup (33g) dutch-processed cocoa powder, sifted

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

1/2 cup (60g) coarsely chopped pistachios (optional, for rolling; this is enough to coat half the cookies, if you want to roll all of them, use a full cup)

For Pistachio Cream Filling:

1.5 ounces (43g) white chocolate, chopped

3 tablespoons (48g) pistachio butter

2 teaspoons (4g) powdered sugar, sifted

1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt

1/8 teaspoon pistachio extract (optional)

1/8 teaspoon vanilla powder (optional)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a light or medium-colored heavy-weight baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat.

Beat together butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Beat in egg yolk, vanilla and pistachio extract.

Sift together flour, cocoa powder, and salt until evenly distributed. Add to mixing bowl with butter mixture, and mix on low speed until just incorporated and mixture comes together into a stiff dough. If your dough seems too crumbly, you can add 1-2 teaspoons of milk as needed to bring it together, however know your cookies might spread a bit more as a result.

Roll dough into 1-inch balls and arrange on prepared baking sheet.

For plain cookies, flatten balls slightly with your thumb or the back of a round 1/2 teaspoon measuring spoon, leaving an indentation in the center. You don’t want to press all the way down, just enough to form an indentation without the dough around it cracking. Dip the back of your measuring spoon in flour first so it doesn’t stick.

For nut-coated cookies, lightly dip the ball of dough into reserved egg white, then roll between your palms until it’s thinly coated with egg white. Roll in chopped pistachios until evenly covered, then place on baking sheet, then press with your thumb or measuring spoon to indent.

Bake cookies for 10 to 12 minutes or until centers are set and slightly puffed and edges are slightly darker in color. Remove baking sheet from oven.

While the cookies are still warm, redefine the indentations with the same measuring spoon you used initially. They will have puffed a bit while baking, so doing this gives you room for your filling.

While the cookies are cooling, make your filling. Place white chocolate in a small, microwave-safe bowl. Warm in the microwave on 50% power, stirring every 30 seconds, until melted and smooth.

Stir in pistachio butter, powdered sugar, sea salt, pistachio extract and vanilla powder until smooth.

Spoon 1/2 teaspoon of filling into the center of each cookie, taking care not to overflow the thumbprint (you might need slightly more or less filling per cookie depending on the size of your indentations).

Let cool at room temperature for about 2 hours until set, or speed up the process by refrigerating the cookies for 10 to 15 minutes until centers are no longer shiny.

Cookies will keep in an airtight container at room temperature or in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.

Did you make this recipe?

Let us know what you think! Leave a Comment or share a photo on Instagram with the hashtag #loveandoliveoil.

Recommended for this recipe:

Raw Pistachio Butter

Pure Vanilla Bean Powder

OXO Good Grips Small Cookie Scoop

Commercial Aluminum Half Sheet Pan

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