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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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A Place To Call Home: Oh Baby

Summary: The reader and TJ decide to have their first baby together and the experience is anything but simple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, pregnancy, pregnancy/delivery scare

A/N: Enjoy!

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“Hey,” you said, rubbing TJ’s bare back in bed after he’d gotten Allie down for bed. He groaned happily as you gave him a massage, sinking further into the mattress. “You’re rocking this dad thing you know.”

“Back at ya mom,” he laughed. “You really think so? Cause I’m scared shitless half the time.”

“Same. But she’s happy and healthy and safe. We must be doing something right,” you said. He patted your leg and you slid off of him, TJ rolling to his side and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you down. “What are you thinking, handsome?”

“I noticed you haven’t taken any birth control this week,” he said.

“We said we’d talk tonight about it. I wanted to be prepared,” you said. He brushed his hand over your cheek and your whole body felt warm at the touch. “This is way off base of our plan for kids. We can totally wait if you want to.”

“We could. But we said way back when we talked about this that when we had kids, we wanted to keep them not too many years apart. Allie will be more than two by the time we have one. I know our plans got changed completely when she came into the picture.”

“Well, the original plan was two of our own and then when they were in their teens, we’d look at adoption for number three. What do you think?” you asked.

“I think it doesn’t matter what our plan is today. It’ll probably change in some way. It already did,” he said.

“Do you want to make a baby?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said softly, sliding his hand down to your stomach. “I can’t imagine how adorable of a child you would make. Let’s start trying. Allie deserves a brother or sister.”

“Are you sure? We could wait until your student loan is paid off,” you said.

“Did I not tell you?” he asked. You shook your head and he smirked. “Work pays off my loan for me as long as I stay there.”

“Where’s the money in the budget for your loan going then?” you asked.

“It’s still student loan but it’s for Allie or kids to use. We got plenty and you got your raise and-”

“Raise? I didn’t get a raise.”

“Jensen said just the other night…oh I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” he said.

“I’m getting a raise?” you asked.

“Yeah. Like a big one. For how you’ve been stepping up lately,” he said. “Don’t let it out that I said something.”

“I won’t. So we can afford another kid, we have the time, the energy, Allie’s a good age...sounds like we got our ducks in a row,” you said.

“Wanna make a baby?” he smirked. “And then love it forever and ever?”

“Fuck yes I do,” you said. “Now get naked and let’s have some fun.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Six Weeks Later

“Want me to write down anything else for the grocery store?” asked TJ as you sipped on some coffee while Allie ate part of a waffle at the breakfast table. “I haven’t bought pads or tampons in a while. You’re probably running low.”

“Yeah, you can…” you said, staring at him. “I haven’t had my period TJ. I’m two weeks late.”

“I’ll get a pregnancy test,” he said, a cautious smile on his face.

“Yeah. I’ll call the doctor, see if I can get an appointment in soon,” you said.

“I’ll be back as quick as I can,” he said.

“Momma, waffle,” asked Allie from her high seat, opening her hand up, her plate wiped clean.

“Sure thing, honey,” you said, TJ flashing you a quick smile before he was gone.

“Hey babe,” you said half an hour later into the phone. “You still at the store?”

“Heading for checkout now. Want me to pick up-”

“I just got my period,” you said. “Just now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said. “We can do the test to make sure, like triple make sure and I still have an appointment for the afternoon.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding a little off.

“We only tried that one night,” you said. “And we weren’t really even trying. We were having more fun with not using a condom for the first time than actively trying really.”

“True. We got a little carried away,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck and his cheeks sporting a light blush if you had to guess. “Do you want to like, really try?”

You turned your head and saw Allie sticking some pads to herself where she sat on the bathroom floor and you smiled.

“For some crazy reason, yes, yes I do. Also, I need more pads. Allie’s playing with them,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll pick up something special for dinner,” he said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Three Months Later

“Another beer?” asked your dad as he stood up from your back patio.

“I can get it,” you said, TJ handing you his empty, Allie passed out on his chest from where the three of you sat around the fire. “I want a snack anyways.”

You ruffled his head and wandered inside, your dad following you in to use the bathroom. You took out a beer and set it on the counter before you opened the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream.

“Someone’s got a sweet tooth lately,” he said. He took out a beer for himself and cracked it open, smiling at you. “Been awhile since I’ve seen you have a drink. Not that you did a lot but the empty calories line doesn’t seem so convincing at the moment considering the tub of cookie dough in your hand.”

“You think I’m pregnant?” you laughed. He shrugged and you shook your head. “No way. Just been trying to eat healthier. TJ ate most of this anyways.”

“You’re really not?” he asked.

“No. When’s mom and everybody come home again? Tomorrow? TJ and I wanted to have everybody over for dinner,” you said.

“Sounds good,” he said. You stuck your head around him, looking at TJ outside. “What’s up?”

“Okay I kinda want your opinion on something. I got a present for TJ’s birthday but I’m not sure if he’ll like it,” you said.

“What is it?” he asked. You left and ducked into your office, smiling to yourself but wiping it off your face by the time you returned. You held out a box to him, your dad opening it up. He looked confused as he held up a pair of blue sneakers.

Very small blue sneakers.

It took him a second but soon he was staring at you, a funny look on his face you remembered seeing on your wedding day.

“Liar,” he grinned.

“I know,” you said, getting a big hug from him.

“You’re gonna have a little boy,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“That’s what the sonogram said. You’re the first person we’ve told. We wanted to wait a few months to make sure everything was okay before we said something.”

“How far along are you?” he asked as he peeled away, staring at your stomach.

“About three months. We found out the sex earlier this week,” you said. “You can touch, it’s okay.”

“I didn’t realize you guys were trying,” he said. He put a careful hand on your stomach, smiling to himself. “You made a baby.”

“We wanted Allie’s sibling to be close in age. We only like actually tried once. We were kind of surprised it happened so fast,” you said.

“Does it feel any different than Allie? It’s not like you’re a parent for the first time again but I imagine it’s got to be a little different,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“Obviously this time I’m actually going to be the one having him but I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that different.”

“Good,” he said, smiling still. “These two are gonna grow up and not even think about who was adopted and who wasn’t.”

“TJ thinks he’s gonna have his black hair.”

“He could. Boys are a spitting image of their fathers sometimes,” he said. “A little boy. He’s gonna grow up just fine with you and TJ.”

“Do you have any advice for boys?” you asked.

“Love him the same as you love Allie. Teach him boys can love and cry and feel their feelings and to help others and he’ll turn out to be just as good a man as TJ.”

“You’re not half bad either,” you said with a smirk.

“I could have been better, especially when I was younger.”

“Dad, you were shy. Mom’s told me stories. You’ve always been good. I know you feel stuff, you just like to process it inside and on your own sometimes, like me. Look at Zepp. What other boy do you know that talks to his dad about stuff the way you guys do?”

“Oh I could name a few,” he said.

“You’re doing good is all I’m saying cause you’re good. We just hope he’s kind and good too,” you said.

“Love ‘em and the rest of it pretty much works out on its own,” he said. “Oh. Changing diapers? Cover them at all times. Like every single time. You’re gonna get pissed on a lot more with a boy, especially in the face.”

“Oh god, dad,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Just being honest,” he chuckled. “Not much difference though.”

“As long as he’s happy, I’m good,” you said. “Are you...surprised? Happy? None of the above?”

“You are a kickass mom. I can’t quite describe it but yeah, let’s just say I’m happy,” he said. “I’m so happy for you both and to have another munchkin around. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Second one should be easier, right?”

“Should. It’s your first time pregnant though. I’m sure we’re gonna run into some fun things for sure.”

Five Months Later

“Hey dad,” you said, giving him a wave in the parking lot. He smiled and you walked over before you headed off into the park with him.

“How’s work going?” he asked. “All ready to go out next week?”

“You know most people don’t take the month off before their due date,” you said.

“Most people don’t work for mom and dad,” he chuckled. “You’re covered. I see you back at that brewery for anything more than a beer run and we’re gonna have problems.”

“I know, grumpy. I’m good. Well, I was until I was driving over here to walk and my stomach started killing me,” you said. He stopped and you walked ahead of him. “What? You forget your phone or something? We can-”

“Fucking shit,” he said. He grabbed you and you made a face as he walked you quickly back over to his car.

“Dad, what-”

“There’s blood dripping down your leg,” he said, not even bothering with his seat belt before he was backing out and speeding away. You glanced down, a small thin streak drying on your skin. You reached under your shorts and felt more wetness, a pit forming in your stomach. “Y/N, are you listening to me?”

“What?” you said as he ran through a red light.

“I said you need to call TJ right now and tell him to meet us at County West. You’re having the baby right now.”

“S’not supposed to be bleeding,” you said quietly.

“I know. On the bright side, it could just be a little tear and that’s what it is and you and the baby are perfectly fine.”

“When has my life ever been on the fucking bright side,” you said. “Something’s wrong isn’t it.”

Your dad hit a few buttons on the wheel before the sound of ringing filled the air.

“Sup, Jensen?” said TJ.

“County West. The baby is coming. Move your ass now,” said your dad before he hung up.

“Oh, I’m completely not worried now,” you said. You shut your eyes and by the time you opened them, you were parked and the drivers door was open. Your dad ran over to the entrance and said something, somebody coming out with a stretcher. You rolled your eyes but let a few nurses and a doctor you were guessing move you on top of it.

“How far along?” asked the doctor.

“I’m-” you said, throwing your head back when pain shot across your abdomen. You screamed, a bit surprised at yourself honestly and suddenly were inside, your dad talking a mile a minute to the people that were rushing you down the hall.

“Y/N, I’m Dr. Astle. Are you having contractions?” she asked.

“I don’t…” you said, shouting again when pain hit you. “Gah, it’s not supposed to hurt that bad, right?”

“No, it’s not,” she said. You kicked when you felt it happening again, your dad grabbing your hand and using his other to run over your head.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “The doctor’s are gonna fix you and the baby up like that.”

“We need to do an emergency C-section,” said Dr. Astle as you realized your shorts had been cut off.

“Dad don’t look that way,” you said.

“You and me right here,” he said with a smile. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be just fine. Just breathe.”

“TJ needs to be here,” you said.

“Tall munchkin I don’t think they can wait,” he said.

“They’re gonna wait over my-” you said, a flop of sweaty black hair running past the room. “TJ!”

“Hey!” he said as he jogged back to the doorway. “Are-holy shit. That’s a lot of blood.”

“TJ, up here,” said your dad.

“We need somebody from maternity, Dr. Astle,” said a nurse.

“Baby and mom do not have the time. You’re the husband?” asked the doctor, TJ nodding. “If mom passes out, you’re calling the shots.”

“Please don’t pass out,” said TJ.

“I’ll try…” you said, something tearing inside and you were out before you could even register the pain.

You woke up in a quiet room, your dad sitting in a chair and bouncing his leg like crazy. You tried to stretch and felt your abdomen was flatter, hand instantly shooting to it. You looked around but saw no sign of TJ or a baby and swallowed.

“Dad,” you said quietly. His head shot up and he was out of his chair like that.

“Hey. How you feeling?” he asked.

“Is the baby…” you swallowed.

“He is a perfectly healthy boy. Big boy. Your due date was off by a couple weeks they think. You were over nine months. He got a little too big for ya. The placenta started to tear and he was kicking at it they think which is why you were in so much pain,” he said.

“Okay,” you said with a big smile. “As long as he’s good, I’m good.”

“He’s up in the nursery with TJ, just letting him get some rest while you got some. You had some pain but you’re okay. Perfectly capable of more kids. Maybe we use a different doctor next time is all,” he said.

“Can I go see him?” you asked, surprised to not feel a bandage across your stomach. “I thought they did a C-section?”

“Well, you passed out pushing him out in one go. Doc said you’d be sore for awhile,” he said. “Let me go see if I can find your boys.”

“Dad,” you said as he turned to go. “Did I do that?”

You nodded to his bruised hand and he shrugged.

“Let’s just say in labor you is kind of terrifying,” he said.

“Dad,” you said and he sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you. I was freaking out before.”

“Little secret, I was freaking out more,” he said with a chuckle. “You, you were just thinking about the baby. Me, me I was thinking about the baby and you. Understand?”

“Yeah. Go get me my son, old timer,” you said, shutting your eyes again.

“Yes mam,” he said, rubbing your arm. “You did real good today, kiddo.”

“I’m getting a letter later, aren’t I,” you said. He laughed and felt him ruffle your hair.

“I’ll save it for when you guys head home. Nothing’s gonna top this,” he said. You heard the door open and opened your eyes, TJ walking inside with a bundle of blankets in his arms.

“You’re kind of a badass, you know that right?” he said.

“It’s why you married me, isn’t it?” you teased. “I want to meet him.”

“I told you I’d bring you back around to see mommy,” he said. Your dad slipped out as TJ sat on the edge of the bed and handed you over your son. You giggled when you saw the black head of hair under his blue cap. “Told you he’d have my hair.”

“It’s a good thing your daddy is pretty,” you said, booping his little nose. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“I was at work. I took the stairs and then sprinted over. The hospital’s only a few blocks away,” he said.

“Why are you in scrubs?” you laughed.

“May or may not have ripped my pants in the said sprinting. Your mom is gonna bring me some clothes when she comes up. Somebody had to go and be all dramatic with his entrance,” he said.

“Dad said the doctor got my due date wrong,” you said.

“Based on my math, you actually did get pregnant that first night we fooled around. Your period was super light when you had it and the doctor did say some people can have them during pregnancy, especially at the beginning if…”

“Dude. I know how it works,” you said. “He’s cute.”

“I know. There’s a couple of really ugly babies down the hall. We got lucky,” he said. You laughed and the baby looked up at you, quickly shutting his eyes. “Someone’s smitten.”

“He’s not the only one,” you said. “You ever decide on a boy’s name?”

“What do you think about Colin? I know it wasn’t on the list but-”

“It’s perfect,” you said, giving the baby a kiss. “Just like you, aren’t you Colin.”

One Week Later

“Dad,” you said when you caught him peeking over the back of the couch again. “He didn’t wake up in the span of the last three seconds you weren’t looking at him.”

“Your father’s in love,” laughed your mom as she set a bag of takeout down in front of you. “I got tacos, burritos, quesadillas, nachos and brisket per your request.”

“Mmm,” you said, TJ reaching his hand into the bag. You stared up at him and he slowly backed away. “That’s what I thought.”

“TJ, yours is in with the other containers,” she said, setting a few containers down on the counter. Your siblings all grabbed one and took off to the movie room, JJ taking Allie up with them and your mom and TJ wandering into the kitchen and talking quietly. Your dad was still looking over the back of the couch and smiling down into the crib.

“He awake?” you asked.

“No. Just adorable,” he said.

“Well get dinner grandpa,” you said, reaching over to the end table for your drink and pausing. You shut your eyes and felt it pass, your dad suddenly right there and helping you to your feet. “Thanks.”

“Still sore?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. You sat up at the counter, grabbing a taco first and taking a big bite. “I’ve been dying for one of these for months.”

“Hopefully the spice doesn’t bother you too much,” he said, stealing a nacho from your bag. He looked over at the crib, Colin making a half-giggle sound. “Kiddo. Do me a favor.”

“What?” you asked.

“Enjoy it. They grow up faster than you think,” he said.

“I know,” you said. He nodded and you saw him look sad for a split second. “Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Just cause I made a baby doesn’t mean I’m not your kid anymore,” you said. “Based on how you are, I’ll never grow up so win-win for you.”

“Loser,” he said, ruffling your hair with a smile before he took your burrito. “Speaking of which, I was gonna prank the trio once they start watching scary movies later. You in?”

“Duh,” you said.

“That’s my girl.”

___________

A/N: Read the Jensen’s Day timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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dig, make, freeze - for Antoni!! 😍

CW: Nothin’. This is just Antoni and Chris fluff. Sorry so many of these ended up fluffy, I guess that’s just my mood right now!

Timeline: Chris's first year in the safehouse

Chris’s lips press together in concentration as he dig the spoon into the bowl, scraping up the mix of soft white cheese, spring onions, and dill until it’s lightly rounded on the top. He looks up, holding out the spoon. “Like, like this?”

Antoni smiles back at him, his own hands hard at work laying out the dough, four baking sheets lined with parchment already full of the rolled-out circles, waiting for the filling. “Yes, perfect, Chrisha. Now-” He gestures, stepping back. “Drop the filling into the center.”

Chris leans over, moving so slowly and so carefully to press the filling out of the spoon until it drops down, slightly off to one side, on top of the dough. “Oh, I, I, I did it wrong.”

He looks a little heartbroken.

Antoni leans over quickly. “No, no, Chrisha, you are fine. Let me show you, we only change how we close it a little.” He takes Chris’s hands - long fingers, always a little cold at the ends - and shifts them, helping him to fold over the dough, creating a half-circle with pinched edges that look almost scalloped. They work together in a brief silence. “See? Just fine. It will cook just as well as any others.”

Chris nods, quickly, relieved that he hasn’t ruined it. Antoni is trusting him to help, and he is desperate to be worth trusting.

“There. That is one. Only...” Antoni’s eyes skim over the baking trays. “Thirty four piroshki to go.”

Chris’s eyes travel over the circles of dough, and he breathes out slowly. “That’s, um, that’s... that’s a lot... of those things.”

“Piroshki are good to make for many,” Antoni says with a smile, sliding an arm around his shoulders. His skin still prickles at touch, but the new young rescue seems to need it so badly, and Antoni never has the heart to pull away.

Chris bumps lightly against him, bouncing on his toes, before he pulls away and moves to scoop the next mound of filling from the bowl. “Where did... where, um, where... where did you learn... to, to, to... to-to make these?”

Antoni shrugs, and ignores the sense of faint unease that rises at the question. “I do not know. I just know how. Maybe it is in my blood, hm?” He smiles, but Chris isn’t looking at him this time, concentrating on the next spoonful dropping into the center of the next circle.

They fall into a rhythm - Chris adds the filling, and Antoni closes up the circles, his hands working with easy experience, memories he can’t access. Chris likes to help, to be useful, and Antoni had thought maybe giving him something his hands could do would help to quiet his always-spinning mind.

They finish, and Antoni looks at the teensy bit of filling left in the bowl with a slight smile. There was a bit of dough leftover, and he uses the filling and dough to make one half-sized piroshki, setting it to the side. “Now, we freeze them.”

“Freeze? Why, why, why aren’t we, aren’t... aren’t we, um, cooking them?”

“These are tomorrow night’s dinner.” Antoni puts a finger to his lips, leaning in close. “I will tell you a secret, Chrisha.”

Chris brightens and leans forward as well. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Nat’s birthday,” Antoni says, keeping his voice hushed. “We are not supposed to know. I will surprise her with piroshki and Jake will buy a cake.”

“What, what... what can I do?” Chris asks. His hands rub over his own stomach, at the fabric of his t-shirt, drop down to the pajama pants he’s wearing, move back up. He sways a little, side to side. He is smiling.

“You will go with Jake, and pick her a gift. Yes?”

Chris nods quickly, and Antoni smiles as he helps to load the baking trays into the mostly-empty freezer, with the little half-circles of dough and filling lightly covered. “Do, do, do... do do I get a birthday?”

Antoni turns to look at him and blinks, moving a small saucepan onto the stove and pouring in plenty of oil, setting it to heat. “What?”

“Do we, um. Do we get, get birthdays? I don’t-... I don’t know my, my, my birthday.” Chris looks out the window over the sink, the sun shining warm outside. A bird trills a song, some kind of sparrow, in a nearby tree.

“None of us know our birthdays,” Antoni says, gently. “But you may pick one, and we will celebrate it. Or the day you came to us.”

Chris shakes his head, quickly, pale eyebrows furrowing. “No... no, no, no. Not that day. That, that wasn’t... a, a good day. Wasn’t safe. Um. I’ll, I’ll think about-” He seems to just now notice the heating oil. “Why-... I, I thought we weren’t cooking them now?”

“I have this one.” Antoni picks up the small half-circle made of the leftover dough and cheese. “I am going to cook this one, just for you.”

He wonders how his house ever felt warm before they had Chris here to smile.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @downriver914 @vickytokio

#fluff #unapologetic fluff #whump #whump oc #antoni sings lullabies #chris the strawberry blond romantic #look this happens sometimes #I don't know where my head's been at #but at fluff apparently #whumpees #whumpees bonding #caretaker and whumpee #bbu #box boy #box boy universe

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purrincesskittens · 5 years

Note

Story prompt where Mari is dating Kagami and Bustier and Adrien don’t like that Kagami is helping Marinette be more confident and stand up for herself?

"You can say no. Tell them no more often so you don't have to stress over stuff at the last minute." Kagami comments as she watches her girlfriend rush around her room to make something for her class that they wanted done. "And no it's not mean to say no. You're only one person you can't do everything you're going to burn yourself out at this rate." Kagami moves off the lounge to press a kiss to her girlfriend's lips wrapping her arms around the petite girl who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Okay class don't forget that the bake sale fundraiser is this weekend and we need to reach our goal in order to go on the big year end field trip." Ms. Bustier announces at the end of class a few days after Marinette and Kagami hung out in her room instead of going on the date they had planned. "Now whose bringing what?" Everyone listed off what they were bringing which wasn't much really just one item from each person and some people were bringing store bought items. At least Chloe was bringing a bunch of baked goods that she was having her chefs make as per usual. Lila wasn't even bringing anything herself something about her arthritis acting up and how if she could she would have made her famous cookies for everyone to try.

"And Marinette your bringing your usual." Ms. Bustier announces checking everything of her list ensuring with Marinette's generous donation of baked goods from her family's bakery they would be sure to reach their goal if not exceed it. "Actually I'm not able to bring as much this year. It costs the bakery to much for me to keep bringing stuff so instead I'm just bring all the day old stuff and a few batches of premade cookies." Marinette pipes up stealing herself against the protests sure to come.

"Now Marinette..." Ms. Bustier starts to chastise gently only to be interrupted by her role model student. "No Ms. Bustier I can not bring anything more then I already am it costs my parents their livelihood by bringing in more than what I already am and I do not have the time or money in which to make more myself. I also will be unable to help with the bake sale itself. I already have plans." Mari stood firm a determined expression on her face straightening her spine eyes ahead not looking at anyone but Ms. Bustier. Especially not a certain blonde model who was giving her a disappointed look.

"Marinette can I talk to you outside the room for a minute?" Despite how it was phrased she knew it wasn't a request but still she didn't give in. "Miss whatever you wish to talk to me about can be done in front of the whole class." Whispers spread through the classroom as everyone stared at her or rather glared. Adrien's disappointed look increased but still she didn't glance at him. Lila opened her mouth to most likely spout off something about her being a bad friend but got cut off.

"Im sure you can come up with something if you try. You have every other time and remember what we talked about with the Marinette's in the world." Ms. Bustiers smile widened stretched across her face straining as she tried to coerce her star student into doing what was expected of her. "Yeah Mari you're so brilliant and amazing it shouldn't be so hard for you to do this especially since you've done it every other time and the bake sale won't go off as well without you. I'm sure you can rearrange your plans till after the bake sale. You're our class president after all we need you there we wouldn't be as successful without you." Adrien throws in standing up and giving the dark haired girl a winning smile trying to get her to agree so the class wouldn't argue.

"I have plans already and I can't cancel them I already canceled my plans the other day because someone wanted something done and I didn't have time unless I canceled my date. I don't have any money left to contribute more than what I already promised nor do I have the time to contribute. I'm not canceling my date again. We already have reservations at a restaurant and tickets to see a movie. I refuse to cancel the date I had planned long in advance when there are plenty of people to help out for the bake sale." She turned her head away from her former crush gathering the rest of her stuff as the bell rang running down the steps and jumping into the arms of her girlfriend who had come to pick her up. Kagami caught the other girl easily hoisting her up in her arms so she could plant a kiss on her lips. Giving the class a glare especially a certain blonde boy and the useless teacher she strode away carrying her giggling girlfriend in her arms.

.........

That weekend Marinette showed up with a couple boxes of baked goods from her parents bakery and two dozen cookies she had made up from frozen cookie dough she kept in her freezer for special occasions. Her contribution was still the most anyone had brought but not nearly as much as she used to bring to previous bake sales. "Marinette there you are we need someone to run the stand for a little while I'm sure it won't be that hard to push your date out a little to help out. After all where would we be without our class president?" Ms. Bustier exclaims with forced cheer as she tried to gently direct Marinette towards the table where Rose was setting up everything. Marinette frowned digging her heals in and manoeuvring out from under her teachers grip. "I'm sorry but I already told you I can't. I already have plans that are set in stone, I can't keep canceling or delaying them what kind of girlfriend would I be if I kept doing that?" She set her stuff down on the table with Rose giving her a cheerful smile before turning to walk away. "Now Marinette I'm counting on you to set a good example..." The teacher places a hand on the girls shoulder, moving in front of her to block her path. "I don't care there are plenty of people here who can help out and Rose is doing a great job, now I'm going to be late for my date so if you'll excuse me." She shrugged the hand off her shoulder and moved towards where Kagami was waiting for her only to be blocked by Adrien. Rolling her eyes and giving a frustrated huff she tried to move around him only to be blocked again. "Marinette what's gotten into you? You're not acting like you usually do. What happened to our everyday ladybug?" Adrien asks giving her sad kitten eyes his voice laced with disapproval. "She grew a spine that's what happened now MOVE." Kagami came forward shoving Adrien out of the way to take her girlfriend by the hand and guide her to the waiting car. Shooting one more glare over her shoulder at the boy she got in and closed the door leaving the class behind as the car pulled away.

#ml salt prompt #salt #salt prompts #ml salt #ms. bustier salt #adrien salt #kagaminette

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malumsmermaid · 4 years

Note

2-16-ash Thank you so much💚💚💚

Setting 2: in the kitchen

Dialogue 16: “I feel like I might be making this worse.”

Build Your Own Prompt

You were working on a new recipe, a lemon meringue pie, something you’d never attempted before. You’d already made up a graham cracker crumb crust, not having any pre-made pie crusts in the freezer and you were not in the mood to deal with making pie dough today. You’d washed the food processor and wiped the counter clean of stray cracker crumbs and now you were staring at the card you’d copied your grandmother’s recipe onto.

Ashton’s lemon tree seemed to have its first round of lemons ripen all at once, leaving the two of you with more of the citrus than you knew what to do with. Ashton had already made lemonade, salad dressing, and a sauce for last night’s dinner, and there were still lemons left, leading to where you were now.

You leaned over the stove, focusing on the custard you were working on, making sure it didn’t turn into scrambled eggs. You hummed, sparing a glance at the pile of empty eggshells, surely you could take half a second to toss those in the trashcan? You continued minding the custard for another minute before turning the stove down one notch and scooping the shells into your hands, hopping over to the trash and dropping them in.

As you turned back to the stove, you saw the milk starting to rise above the top of the sauce pan. “Shit shit shit!!” you gasped, hurrying back over, turning the burner down further and trying to save the custard.

“You ok, sweetheart?” Ashton called from the living room, where he was on an interview call with the rest of the boys.

“Yeah, yeah,” you assured, but he was soon standing behind you, intent on making sure you hadn’t been hurt. You blushed, looking down at the split custard. “I think I might be making this worse.”

Ashton chuckled, now sure you were fine. “It’s ok, babe, we have plenty of eggs, as well as lemons. Just start over.”

He gave you one last once over, connecting your lips momentarily before going back to the interview, explaining the lemon dilemma-”Or di-lemon, if you will” he said, after he assured everyone that you were fine as you scraped your failed first attempt from the pan, giving it a good rinse before starting again.

#ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin #requests #anon #Anonymous

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is0gild · 4 years

Text

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 13

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 4,108

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Why are you stuffing the freezers full of Sven plushies?"

My arm stopped mid-motion and I blinked owlishly up at Frozone from where I was kneeled down on the Ice Palace floor in front of said freezers.

...I wasn't, was I?

Looking down at my hand and, more specifically, what was in it, I winced.

Yes. Yes, I was.

Fudge.

Hastily scooping them all off the stacks of ice cream bars and back out onto the tiled ground beneath me, I shot up to my feet, hiding one behind my back with a tiny, awkward laugh . "Oh! That! Yes, uh… I was just… trying to give them a… nice… frosty sheen! To, erm, make them more… authentic? Yeah, you know, since reindeer are from the frozen north, or, ah… somewhere… like that, heh!"

His eyelids drooped. "I… see."

"Oh yeah, chilled plushies are the new 'It' thing." Really? This was the hill I was choosing to die on? Apparently it was. I shoved the little caribou I was still holding into his face now, showing off the icy glaze to its fur coat as I pressed on, "They're all the rage in, er… Norway."

"Norway. Right," Frozone deadpanned as he gingerly took the proffered doll by one of its antlers. Don't think he was quite convinced. Just a wild guess here. "Call me old fashioned but for now, let's just keep all the plushes at room temperature, shall we? And please, run any other... innovations you might have by me first," he flashed me a thousand watt smile, "sound good?"

I returned it with a shaky one of my own, "A-absolutely!" He nodded and as soon as he turned his back on me, my grin faded into a grimace and I buried my face in my hands.

This hadn't been the first of my little "innovations" since starting my shift today.

Other winners included almost dumping used popsicle sticks instead of ice cream into the soft serve/milkshake machine, trying to pile scoops onto straws instead of cones, and giving taste spoons out as change for payment.

Yeah, that particular customer hadn't been exactly thrilled by the last one. Apparently the world just wasn't ready for my groundbreaking and avant-gard new form of currency.

But really, I just wasn't paying attention. I couldn't help it! I was too distracted and completely unable to focus. Hadn't been able to since the study session had ended yesterday. I'd hadn't even gotten a wink of sleep last night, merely tossed and turned while my thoughts had kept running round and round in endless circles.

I just… still couldn't get over it.

Me.

Having a crush.

My brain wouldn't wrap around it. I quite simply did not grok.

For starters, was I forgetting the six year relationship I had just been in? The fiancé I'd left at the altar a few short weeks ago? What was he, chopped liver? How could I just start having… feelings or whatever for someone else so quickly? I mean, okay sure, I hadn't been in love with the guy, but still… wasn't this breaking the rules or something? Committing some sort of romantic faux pas? Spurning basic etiquette in matters of the heart?

Perhaps I should take a step back and look at this all more objectively. Maybe I was just confused and didn't really know what it was I was actually feeling. Just what were these emotions exactly, anyway? I'd definitely never felt them before, and certainly not for my ex. But just because these sentiments were new and I was experiencing them only in the presence of a certain boy, didn't necessarily mean they were, um… affectionate in nature, right?

Yeah, this didn't have to be a crush. I was only jumping to conclusions! Lea was a great guy, absolutely, and I liked him, you know, as a person, but that didn't mean that I, like… like-liked him! I barely even knew him, for crying out loud! Granted, I did know he was kind, sweet, caring, funny, clever, made me feel comfortable around him (that in itself was kind of a miracle), and was a cutie-patootie to boot, but that didn't-

Wait.

Back up.

What was that word I'd just used?

...cutie...patootie?

Bleh, where had that even come from?

That's the thing about crushes, boo. You don't have to really know the person, just think they're a total cutie-patootie!

I shuddered as my roomie's earlier words came back to haunt me.

Thanks, Ghost of Rayne Past, this was exactly what I didn't need right now.

Okay, fine, so maybe it was a crush. I don't know! This was new territory for me! And even it was, so what? It's not like it mattered. Lea wasn't dating at the moment. Girls were a distraction, he was focusing on his school work, yada yada, that whole thing. And say, for the sake of argument, that weren't the case. It's not like I'd ever have the guts to…

...what?

Ask him out?

Pffft, me? Elsa, Queen of the Chickens?

Please!

And even if I went all the way to the magical land of Oz to ask the great wizard himself for some courage so I could so much as even begin to consider acting on these alleged feelings I may or may not have, Lea didn't see me like that. He'd made that abundantly clear. When he'd finally ended his self-imposed exile to the bathroom yesterday, the sheer amount of awkward that had filled the room after that had been enough to suffocate. And even when we did eventually manage to fall into a comfortable study rhythm once more, it didn't slip my notice that he'd always seemed to try and keep the table between the two of us for the rest of the evening.

So really, it was all moot. Lea wasn't interested. Which was okay, because I wasn't interested in him either! ...or maybe I was, but that was beside the point! The point was that this crush, if that's even really what it was, was a non-entity. Nothing that was ever going to be acted on. Nothing worth losing my head over like this, getting all-

"Elsa?" A throat cleared nearby and I glanced over my shoulder to see Frozone, back once more, now complete with a deadpan look. He held up a metal scoop. "...try this maybe?"

I stared blankly from it to him.

...crud, had I done it again?

I looked down at my hands and immediately got my answer.

Indeed I had. I'd zoned out for the umpteenth time and gone on auto-pilot. And my auto-pilot? Sucked. Big time.

Last I'd checked before I'd gone all space cadet, I'd been cleaning up the pile of Svens off the floor and hanging them back up on their hooks. Now that I was tuning back in, it seemed I'd wrapped up that task and had since moved on to assisting a customer. That customer had requested scooped ice cream on a cone - or so the hope would be, given I had a cone in hand (good start) and had opened the glass display to the refrigerated tubs. However, I'd apparently been about to start scooping… with nothing but my bare friggin' fingers.

I looked back at Frozone, plastering on a smile. "Oh, this? This is just, ah… well you know, studies have linked the use of traditional ice cream scoops back to, er… male… pattern baldness!" Ugh, just stop already, mouth, you're not helping! Do you not remember how bad at lying we are?! "Something about the way the, um, the metal... alloy interacts with the sugar is just… just yeah, bad juju or something." What I wouldn't give for a muzzle right now. What even were the words coming out of my mouth anymore? "Nine out of ten experts agree that, ah, scooping with just your hands is the safest, healthiest option, so… there you go! A great lil tip there for you, so yeah… you're welcome!"

"...I think I'll take my chances," he said, tone flat. Then he was pulling me to one side, out of earshot of the patron, "Okay, girl, you clearly got a lot going on up in there at the moment," he tapped me on the forehead a couple times, "so tell you what. I'll finish helping this customer while you gather the rest of the scoops, take them to the back for a rinse and use that minute to clear your head. Alright?"

Straightening up slightly, I gave a quick nod. "Yes sir."

"Atta girl." A quick pat on my shoulder from him, then he was moving off to greet the customer.

Giving myself a small shake, I then quickly set to work collecting the steel utensils. Focus. Focus! This wasn't the time to be twisting myself up in knots over something so inane. There'd be plenty of time for such self-indulgent stupidity once I got back home later tonight. For now, think ice cream. That's it, pure and simple. Ice cream. Live it, breathe it, bleed it. Ice cream. Nothing else existed. Nope, not a thing. Most definitely not-

My gaze chose that second to flick up, glancing towards the other side of the food court. Yup, you guessed it. A certain redhead was currently on shift at a certain pizzeria across the way. Lea was back at it with the pizza dough sorcery, spinning and tossing one on each hand. By chance, our eyes met and to my surprise, gone was any trace of lingering weirdness from yesterday. In fact, his face brightened as he flung one disc up into the air, freeing up that hand to give me an energetic wave.

There was a tiny spasm in my chest and I spun on my heel, turning my back to him.

We've been hit by friendly fire, captain! Status report.

Eyes? Wide and unblinking.

Hands? Strangling metal scoops while simultaneously pressing them against my hammering chest.

Face? Roasting like a honey-glazed ham on Christmas Eve.

...hold up… gah, what the heck was I doing?! Why was I freaking out? Weren't we past all this already, Elsa? Hadn't we left that awkward stage of your friendship with Lea in the dust behind us long ago? So what if you maybe, kind of, sort of had a teensy-weensy crush on him now? This wasn't grade school, you were a damn grown-up! So start acting like one, turn your butt around and wave back at him already!

So I did. I squared my shoulders, put on my best smile, did another about-face and waved back.

...and in my enthusiasm in said wave, I managed to smack myself in the face with the handful of metal scoops I was still holding.

Nailed it.

"I saw that," I heard Frozone's dry voice behind me and I whipped around to discover him all done with the customer and now standing there, arms crossed. "Don't tell me, let me guess. Whatever hang-up is going on with you has to do with that pizza boy." Pause to quirk an eyebrow. "Again."

I gulped, eyes darting to the left. "Heh… pizza what? Boy who?" Crickets. "I'm-going-to-go-wash-these-now-okay-bye!" I blurted out like it was all one word and bolted through the door to the back.

Whew! Dodged that bullet like Neo!

A few minutes later I was walking back out to the storefront, freshly cleaned utensils in hand and hoping Frozone wasn't going to feel like picking up exactly where we'd left off in that conversation. Seemed I was in luck, for all he said was, "I'm gonna go on my lunch break now. Should be slow since the rush just died down." He gave me a pointed look, "I trust you're all good now and can handle things on your own for a bit?"

Relieved, I gave a nod as I started putting the scoops back in their spots. "You can count on me."

"That's what I like to hear," he grinned, holding his fist out for a bump and I only hesitated for a second before lightly tapping my knuckles to his. "Alright, be back soon!"

I watched him go, then finished returning all the utensils before taking up position behind the cash register. Okay, you can do this. Don't let your mind wander. Stay in the here and now. Look around and pick something to concentrate on, keep you grounded. Like that plastic spork underneath that one table out there, dropped and forgotten, yet to be swept up by a roaming janitor. Or… that grey tabby at the Lucky Cat Café, what was his name again... Chirithy? Yeah, that sounded right. Or at Anna over there, bursting through the double doors, running straight for me as if her life depended on it and-

...wait, what?

Anna?

What was she doing here?

And why did she look so frantic and horrified?

When she got close enough, I began, "Anna, why are you-"

"Sis!" she shouted, stumbling to a stop in front of me and slamming both her hands down next to the register. "Shush! Listen!" She looked like she'd just ran a marathon and was out of breath, her every word punctuated with a pant or a wheeze. "Back… Back at- Overheard... Talking... Yelling… Mall ice cream! Mad, so… so friggin' mad! Drove… drove here! Quick as I- Right behind me! Just barely got here before… before-" She suddenly hissed in pain and pulled one knee up to her chest, grabbing her foot in both hands and bouncing up and down on the other. "Frick! Owie, charley horse! Charley horse!"

Figures her super human power to babble would fail her in the hour of her greatest need.

At a loss, I reached out across the counter to rest a hand on her arm, "Anna, slow down. Breathe. I can't understand you, you're missing some nouns there. What are you trying to tell me? Why-"

Using the countertop for support now, she grabbed me by the shirt and yanked me closer, bringing us nose to nose. "He's here! He knows!"

My blood ran cold.

I swallowed hard. "H-he? He w-who?"

Please, please, please don't say-

"The Duke!"

...oh.

Then it wasn't-

Well that's a relief!

Wait… Oh… Oh dear god, no… no, it most definitely was not!

Those food court's doors banged open a second time now and in he marched, proud and regal in all his big-nosed, bad combover, bushy mustachioed glory.

Weselton "The Duke" Fryse.

Aka my great uncle.

He and I weren't exactly on the best of terms, and that was even before I went all AWOL on my wedding day. Me being the eldest and heir to his nephew's fortune, he'd never quite forgiven me for not being born male. But I mean, come on pal, that was over twenty-two years ago - let it go already! The man was the very definition of dotty old coot and insufferable windbag. And for someone who talks so much, he surprisingly says very little. Mostly antiquated opinions and unsolicited advice, every last bit of it wrong and holier-than-thou. For all his ramblings over the decades, we had yet to even hear the story of where his nickname had even come from. Did it have to do with the esteemed university? Had the Queen of England herself actually honored him with the title? Did he have a reputation back in his day of settling matters by "duking" it out? Who knew? And honestly, who really cared?

But none of that mattered at the moment. What mattered was that he was here. That he knew. And if he knew, that meant mother and father knew. And if they knew… he probably knew as well. You know. Him. My ex.

It was official.

This was it.

The Worst Day Ever.

My chest seized. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. All I could do was watch in abject terror as the Duke drew ever nearer, head held high and stern, bespectacled glare burning holes into me. In fact, I think those glasses were even magnifying the sheer, seething rage contained within that scowl of his and turning it into a straight up death ray.

So this was how I was going to die, huh? Funny. I'd always thought clowns would be the ones to do me in. Well… this was the Duke after all, so… close enough.

How had he even found out? Anna never would have told him. How on earth…?

He at last came to a halt before me, hands folding behind his back. He spared a brief, unamused glance out of the corner of his eyes towards Anna, gracing her with a sniff of disdain. She merely glowered back at him. Then his full attention was on me. "Well, well, young lady," he intoned coldly, staring down his nose at me, "just what do you have to say for yourself?"

Okay, Elsa, easy there. You're going to get through this. Put away the shaky knees and sweaty palms. You're calm. You're collected. Just rationally and eloquently explain yourself to him so he sees your side of it and he'll understand and be on his way.

Clenching and unclenching my hands, took a deep breath and opened my mouth.

Calm. Rational. Eloquent.

Here we go.

"I, um… hm… guh… nhg?"

Well done.

"...quite." His mustache twitched dangerously from side to side. "Please then, allow me. You ran out on your wedding. Wasted your father's valuable time and munny. Broke your poor mother's heart. Embarrassed your whole family. Disrespected your betrothed's family. Disappeared with nary a trace, not so much as one word from you for a month, worrying us all sick... All for what? This?" His narrowed gaze gave the Ice Palace in its entirety a once over and, clearly, found it wanting. "...a ramshackle ice cream booth in a mall. A mall of all places!" he roared and I flinched, but said nothing.

I couldn't. Words had abandoned me. Panic had paralyzed me. All I could do was shrink more and more in on myself, wishing for the ground to swallow me up as his lecture turned into a full on tirade now.

"Working like some lowly, middle-class plebeian! Living heaven only knows where! Fraternizing with commoners! Have you no shame, child?! You little ingrate, you… you little monster! I always knew you'd be the downfall of this family! Of all the selfish, witless, deplorable, irresponsible, contemptible, impudent-"

"Cram it, Weaseltown!" Anna spat out, putting herself between me and him.

Oh great. Now here my baby sister came to fight my battles for me while I cowered behind her. My humiliation was complete.

He took a step back, nostrils flaring and mustache flapping violently as he huffed and puffed. "It's Weselton! The Duke to you, you spoiled brat! I always said your father should've used a firmer hand with you! You've grown wild! You're a disgrace! The both of you are! Why, if your father were here right this second, he'd-"

"Yeah, well he's not!" Anna got in his face now, staring him down as she stabbed a finger into his chest, "You are! Why is that, I wonder? Where is Daddy Dearest anyway?"

Talk! Say something, damn it! Please, just stop standing here doing nothing like a total idiot!

"Such impudence!" he slapped her hand away. "He's back at home, tending to your grief-stricken mother who is inconsolable, simply inconsolable upon learning the truth! Neither of them could bring themselves to come down here and bear the wretched sight of their eldest! So I took it upon myself after breaking the dreadful news to-"

She stamped her foot and snarled, "So it was you! Oh I bet you just couldn't wait to go and tattle to our parents as soon as you knew! Bet you were just positively giddy. How'd you do it? How'd you find out, you big weasel?!"

Their shouting match was causing a scene. People were beginning to stare. Including… I reluctantly dragged my gaze over towards the Pizza Planet… yup. There Lea was with a frown and one eyebrow cocked as he set the dough aside to watch this bit of drama unfold.

For the love of all that is good and mortifying, just end me. End me now. Please.

The Duke stiffened, face blotchy with barely restrained fury. "Hold your vile tongue, you snot-nosed whelp! I'll have you know the information was as good as mine the minute you told us she'd texted you. I knew if I hired a man to follow you, you'd lead us straight to her."

Anna gaped, "You had someone friggin' spying on me?!"

"And rightly so!" he harrumphed, puffing out his chest. "The scandals he reported back to me, why, I nearly died from disgrace! Carousing in a seedy, two-bit pub! Mingling with the filthy yokels! Prancing about on some stage, making an utter mockery out of yourself! Not to mention naught but days later, rendezvousing in secret at some mongrel's hovel and holing up in there with him for hours, you, you, you trollop!"

My stomach fell further and further, my face paler and paler with every word. Dear lord, he knew about all of that?! And what was he even talking about, holing up with- wait, was he talking when I'd helped Lea study? There'd been someone there, some sort of, what… private investigator or something, watching me the whole time? Might still be watching me, even now?

Oh crud, now Lea was over his counter and heading this way. Turn back, you kind, brave, naive fool! You know not the powers you seek to tangle with! Back! Back, I say! Back to the craft of pizza and outer space from whence thou came!

"So the frick what?!" my sister gave a scoff. "Elsa can do whatever with whoever she wants! As far as I'm concerned, what she does with her life is none of your business, you old fart!"

"I make it my business when her actions ruin this family's good name! Now enough of this charade, this, this absolute farce!" The Duke looked past Anna to point at me, "You have a duty to perform, young lady! A responsibility to uphold! You will come home this instant and marry-"

Shoving his arm away, Anna snapped, "She will not! Don't you understand? She doesn't love him, she wasn't happy!"

This was getting out of hand. Somehow, someway, whatever spell that kept me frozen abruptly broke. My feet were suddenly on the move and I was running out from behind the counter. I had to do something. Get between them, break this up, I don't know… just something.

The Duke sneered, "As if love and happiness matter in a marriage, bah!"

"They do when it's… it's…" she frowned in thought for a split second, then her face broke out into a triumphant grin. "When it's true love!"

A huff of a derisive laugh. "True love? Now you're just spouting off nonsense, pure hogwash!"

"Nu uh! In fact," there was now a sly gleam to her eye, "Elsa's already met her true love."

"She's what?!"

I've what?

At her words, I staggered and tripped, nearly colliding into my sister. Anna grabbed my shoulders, keeping me upright. Then she gave me a wink, grin twitching wider before looking back at our great uncle, "What'd you think? That that 'secret rendezvous' as you put it was... what? Just a fling? A one night stand? A booty call? Ha! Well jokes on you, Weaseltown, cuz that was her boyfriend!"

"Her what?!"

My what?

"That's right!" she cackled now as the Duke spluttered and wheeze, his hand going to his chest. "They're in love! Have been for a while now! She… oh! She ran away from her wedding to just be with him! Yeah!"

Anna, what are you doing? Anna, please stop!

"Hey, what seems to be the problem here?" Lea stepped up to join us just then.

Turn back! Back, I say!

"Well if it isn't the man of the hour!" Anna beamed at him, to which he just merely blinked and tipped his head to one side. "Weaseltown, allow me to introduce you to," she shoved me at Lea who caught me as I crashed into his chest, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead in confusion, "Elsa's one and only… her beau, her lover, her boyfriend and one true love! They make just the cutest couple, don'tcha think?"

"Wha- huh?!" Lea's grip on me tightened, his eyes widened and his face flushed bright red.

As for the Duke? Well, I suppose he handled it about as well as could be expected.

He fainted.

Author's Note: Anna, hon, no… Anna why? The way that girl's mind works sometimes, I swear… Lol! You might be able to guess where this is going, dear readers xD But if not, don't worry, it's gonna be spelled out for you reeeeeal soon xP Also, yay, a cameo from The Duke in all his huffy, stuffy, blustering glory! Just what we needed to mix things up, and boy, did things EVER get mixed up!

Next chapter, how will Elsa react to her sister's lil "announcement"? Not to mention, how will LEA react? Will Elsa ever be able to sort through her tangled feelings about this thing that may or may not be a crush? Is Elsa ACTUALLY onto something there with the frozen plushies idea? Is the Duke just straight up DEAD?! …probably not, but it was a fun question to ask xD Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Requested by anonymous: “Could I request a Dan x female!reader that’s full of a bunch of cuddles and softness and Dan being so happy because he’s finally in a stable relationship with someone he loves”

Pairing: Danny Torrance x fem!reader

Words: 1.7k

A/N - kinda sad that doctor sleep isn’t in cinemas here anymore... I miss my baby rose

An empty bed always feels worse when you’re left wondering if he's ducked out. It wouldn't bother you normally. Not every relationship was meant to be but this time was different and not to mention this was definitely more than a one night stand or a fling. You thought you actually had something; He made you happy and you thought you did the same for him. You toss over in bed staring out the door you could have sworn you closed; last line or security after all. He must have left it open. You sigh to yourself As you let your eyes flutter closed.

"How are you still tired?" You groan at the question burying your face further into the pillow. "Never met someone who can sleep so much."

Looking up, you spy none other than Dan Torrance leaning against the doorframe in a pair of grey boxers. A smile on his lips; a tray held comfortably between his hands. You were glad he was still here.

"You wore me out," You joke, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. "For a second I thought you had run out on me... again."

"Are you still hung up on that," Dan walked into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing the tray beside you. Glancing towards the tray, it holds a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in the middle. A glass of orange juice to the right. A bottle of syrup to the left.

"It was a one-time thing- promise, I even made you breakfast in bed to make up for it."

"Oooh look at you," you tease, pushing yourself upright so you back was against the headboard. "Thank you."

He kicks his legs up onto the bed, getting comfortable beside you. Taking the tray, you place it in your lip, picking up the cutlery that had slid out from under the side of the plate. "What do you want to do today?" He asks as the blade cuts through the surface of the fluffy pancake. You shrug, offering him the piece. He leans in to take but not before you can pull it just out of reach. An amused smile on your lips as you hold it out for him again. He's cautious but takes it into his mouth.

"Honestly? Sleep," You suggest, cutting a piece for yourself.

"I figured you'd say that," he started, placing his hand on your leg which was covered by the duvet. "But- and hear me out here. How about we- I don't know, go outside?" You glance to him briefly before turning back to your food. "We could have lunch, maybe watch a movie?"

"Or," you drag the word out for emphasis. "We could stay in bed and order in food. Plenty of viable movie options on Netflix."

The man just shakes his head. "How about we go out for lunch and then return, much later, to watch a movie. Cuddling could be on the table but only if we take a walk after said lunch."

"But it's so cold outside." You groan but it's mixed with a chuckle. He was determined to get you out of bed and so you decide to compromise. It's only fair. "How about we go for a reasonable length walk, then takeaway and movie back here? Final offer- take it or leave it, babe."

You watch him contemplate the offer. "Fine," he nods once. "It's a deal."

You hold your hand out which he gladly shakes. "Pleasure doing business with you, Torrance."

You finish your breakfast relatively slowly in hopes of putting off going for a walk. It's past one by the time you're finally ready to leave the house. Dan still insists it will be 'fun' and you don't question it. You could do with the fresh air; you have nothing against walking it's just when winter comes around you're reluctant to face the icy tundra. Wrapped up in the winter coat you bought no more than two weeks ago, a matching hat, gloves, and scarf set you're ushered out of your apartment. You let Dan decide where to go, which isn't far. There is a park fifteen minutes from your building. It's not all that big so it doesn't get mass amounts of visitors but it's kept fairly tidy and in the summer, there's a little local fair with games and food. But it wasn't summer so the park was pretty much empty except for the odd dog walker who probably wouldn't be out here if it weren't for the dog. You're kind of glad for the dogs though, they're adorable and make the park worth the trip. Dan squeezes you're gloved hand almost every time you spot another dog which brightens your smile. But none of its enough to make you forget just how cold you are. The man beside you puts on a brave face, insisting alongside every groan that it isn't that cold but you know he's lying. You can tell by the pink of his cheeks and ears. It takes a lot of nagging for him to finally submit, practically dragging him all the way back and through the door into your only slightly less cold living room. You tried to keep your use of the heating to a minimum; money doesn't grow on trees but right now was an emergency.

"I've never been so cold in my life" You shiver as you strip of your gloves, scarf and hat. Throwing them into the bowl you keep by the door where you like to keep your keys; when you actually remember to use it that is.

"What should we do for dinner?" Dan asks ignoring your cold comment. "Chinese?"

"Pizza." You reply; fiddling with the buttons to switch on the heating. It'd take a while to get comfortably warm. Shitty radiators.

"Pizza it is. I'm gonna run to the store first."

"Aye aye captain." You give him a three-fingered but lazy salute.

"Do you want anything?" You think about it for a second before shrugging. Dan disappears back out into the cold. Slipping into the bedroom, trading your clothes for sweats, you dive into bed. Drowning yourself in the warmth of the duvet. Pulling out your phone to waste the time. When he returns you're two lives deep into candy crush.

"Thought you were putting in a movie." He comments as you swipe on the screen. Matching the colourful candy in a line of three.

"Oops,"

"You're not gonna leave that bed again are you?" You glance to him from the comfort of your duvet cocoon, shaking your head a little. "Not unless I have to." You flash a bright smile. Bracing the cold, you remove your arm to pay the space next to you. It had warmed up a little but just a little. He makes sure to grab the remotes before climbing under the covers. Placing them ever so carefully into your lap.

"What should we watch?"

"Something... Christmasy maybe? Elf." You lock your phone and shuffle a little closer to the man.

"A little early for Christmas, don't you think?"

"Never." You insist, laying your head against him. He doesn't argue, putting on the movie you requested. Settled in, he puts his arms around you. Holding you close. The pizza is ordered shortly after thanks to the rumble of your stomach; you paid but Dan is the one to get up when it arrives at the door. The pizza doesn't last all that long nor do the wedges they came alongside it. That was to be expected.

With the pizza box pushed to the side and something mindless now playing in the background, you're rested comfortably against his chest as he runs his hand through your hair; gentle to the touch. "What's on your mind?"

He stops his motion for a moment before continuing. "Nothing really,"

You nudge him softly. "Tell me."

"Just thinking about you."

"All good things I hope."

"Well..."

"Hey," you huff. Dan chuckles lightly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Nothing bad I swear. You're just a very happy presence and I'm grateful for that."

You glance up at him but he seems to be in a world all his own. This happened more often than not. When you first started seeing him, Dan had explained about his 'shine' as part of his total honesty rule. You took his words with a grain of salt, somethings were to be believed others seemed utterly impossible. For the most part, you don't bring it up unless he does. It's hard to gauge how he feels about the shinning as a whole so you don't want to upset him by bringing it up all the time. There were things he hadn't told you and that was fine too; they were probably things you didn't want to know anyway. “Please don't tell me there are ghosts in here, not sure I could handle the stress."

"No, it's nothing like that." He reassures you. "Stop worrying."

"I constantly worry about you, you're like a McDonald's for spirits." You joke playfully, hoping he saw the funny side.

"Let's not." His voice is firm but in no way aggressive so you just let it go. Spinning around so your body was facing him, you wrap your arms tightly around the man.

"You know what I want?" You mumble against his chest.

"Ice cream." He didn't pose it as a question but a fact and he was right.

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." He shrugs and you feel his whole body move in your grip. "Good thing I bought some earlier."

"You're too good to me. Cookie dough?"

"Obviously." You pull back and briefly connect your lips.

"I'll go get it since you've been so nice today."

You slip out of bed to collect the pint of ice cream in question. The apartment is considerably warmer now as you saunter over to the tiny freezer above your fridge. Grabbing two spoons, you return to the comfort of your bed. Handing the boyfriend a spoon as you settle in again. Dan Torrance was an unexpected but interesting addition to your life. He was all kinds of weird but that was what you liked about him. He was so unapologetically himself.

#dan torrance #the shining #doctor sleep #ewan mcgregor #danny torrance #dan torrance x reader #baby it's cold outside

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no-reaction · 4 years

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Mocha Bread - bread making at home during covid

It’s been a while since I updated this blog. Well life’s been busy, when one has to be an adult... Last time I was here (June 2015?!), I just gave notice for my old job, and went back to school to complete my master’s degree in communications. A year later, I took on an events and engagement position at the largest charity foundation in Hong Kong. Another four years, despite the terrible hours and amount of (really meaningful) work, I am still with the company (with 2 promotions!), and I am glad to still be offered a new contract in times like these.

Yes, the coronavirus... In Hong Kong, I’ve been working from home right after the Chinese New Year holiday. Luckily for us, after a short period of madness where people were hoarding TP and rice, things have *kinda* gone back to ‘normal’. It’s been a rather surreal two months (and ongoing) of work-from-home experience, but that also means I actually have the time to start playing with recipes again!

Bread is not something I am very confident with, mainly because Hong Kong is rather hot and wet climate-wise. I always had trouble getting doughs to properly rise in “room” temperature. Three years ago, I actually purchased a mini oven with a dough fermentation mode, so that should solve the problem? Since I have plenty of time, I could even make bread in a leisurely manner. (Funny though, after all these years, I still have not caved in to get myself an electric mixer, because I really have no space for that. Someday my friends, someday...)

Well, the bread recipe today in fact is not my first stay-at-home experiment. I started off with a yeastless recipe, Irish Soda Bread, just in time for St Patrick’s Day, then I went on to do an overnight pizza dough from the Smitten Kitchen (because I’ve actually never tried fermenting dough in the fridge). So officially, this is my third bake, the Mocha Bread. Again, I did part of the fermentation in the fridge overnight to see what will happen (hey, I did say I am experimenting!)

Mocha Bread (Makes 2 large-ish loaves)

Ingredients:

375 g strong white flour

2 1/2 tsps instant dried yeast (I use Saf-instant Gold - it’s so much easier, no need to proof or dissolve, just throw it straight into the flour mixture)

55 g superfine caster sugar

1/4 tsp salt

20 g unsweetened cocoa powder

10 g instant coffee powder

70 g roughly chopped dark chocolate

50 g unsalted butter

1 egg, lightly beaten

1/2 tsp natural vanilla extract

90 g dark chocolate chips

185 mL warm water (around 40ºC)

Steps:

Chocolate mixture - melt chopped dark chocolate and butter in a bowl, either over a saucepan of simmering water (don’t let the base of the bowl touch the water!) or if you are lazy like me, you can do it in the microwave in short bursts of 30 seconds, stirring in between). When fully melted, add egg and vanilla into the mixture

The dough - combine flour, yeast, sugar, salt, cocoa powder, coffee powder, then add in the chocolate mixture. Use a large wooden spoon/spatula to combine the wet and dry ingredients, and mix until the coarse and sticky dough comes together. You can then start using your hands to knead the dough for another 5-10 minutes or until the dough is smooth and elastic - add extra flour if necessary (If using a mixer, use a dough hook, and set to lowest speed to mix for 1-2 minutes, then increase the speed to medium and knead for another 5-10 min until a smooth dough is formed).

Proofing - grease a large bowl and transfer the dough into it and ensure the oil lightly coats the whole dough. Cover in cling film and leave the dough in a draught-free place for 1-2 hours, or until the dough is doubled.

[Here I placed my dough into the oven and tried the fermentation mode, which kept the temperature at around 30-ish ºC - half an hour later, the dough rose quite a bit already, but to experiment, I left dough in the fridge and went to bed. The next morning I took the dough out and left it in room temperature until the afternoon to continue the rest of the proofing and it turned out quite ok! Generally speaking, if proofing in the fridge, remove the dough from the fridge about 3 hours before you plan to bake it, to give the dough enough time to reach back to room temperature,]

Shaping the dough - knock back the dough and turn it out onto a floured surface, and divide it in half. Flatten each half to around 1 cm thick and scatter chocolate chips onto it. Roll up the dough into logs and transfer them onto a greased baking tray. Use a knife to make three diagonal slashes across the top of each dough.

Second proofing - cover the doughs with a damp cloth and leave them for an hour in room temperature, or until they double in size.

Baking - preheat the over to 180ºC (350ºF). Bake the bread for 45-50 minutes. When done, it will sound a bit hollow when tapped. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

The bread turned out pretty well. Taste-wise it’s bittersweet though I wouldn’t mind a stronger coffee flavour, and it goes really well with a cup of coffee or tea in the morning or as a snack in the afternoon. Since I live with my mum, with two people, the bread could last quite some time. It freezes pretty well too, so I suggest slicing them after cooling, wrap it up and leave one of them in the freezer until you are done with the first :)

#baking #homemade #home cooking #recipe #sharing #chocolate #coffee #tea #breakfast #snack #bread

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lilyvandersteen · 5 years

Text

Out of the Blue: Chapter 6

Cover art: @redheadgleek

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage

Author’s Note:

I love Model!Klaine, so this chapter is my tribute to that trope :-)

Warning: this chapter might make you hungry if you check out the pictures of the party food.

Chapter 6: A True Chameleon

“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

Kurt looked at the address he’d just written on an envelope and bit his lip.

Would he dare send it or not?

He was veering towards the YES option. After all, Cooper had told him he wanted to be invited to any bash Kurt threw, and Halloween was one of Kurt’s favourite party occasions, so he went all out.

He had a feeling Cooper would appreciate a Kurt Hummel Halloween Extravaganza. Slightly over-the-top and too much seemed to fit the guy to a T.

His mind made up, he shoved the invitation onto the pile and continued writing.

Of course, he had no idea whether Cooper would be able to make it. The guy did a lot of charity work, and in spite of being the CEO of a multimillion dollar firm, he still starred in many ad campaigns, so he had to be fiendishly busy all the time.

But Kurt was in luck. Three days after he’d sent the invitations, he got a call from an unknown number, and for once, it wasn’t a telemarketer but a much more welcome caller.

Cooper! Who promised to come to the party! With his brother in tow again, but hey, maybe the guy would be less grumpy this time around.

But what Cooper said next wiped the grin off Kurt’s face. He planned on buying them a sofa bed as a gift for the party. Yes, he was rich, but that was completely ridiculous and way too much.

Now that Kurt had actually met Cooper and talked with him, he liked the guy. Not because of his looks or his money, but because he was good-natured and personable and interesting to talk to. Plus, it wasn’t just on the surface. Yes, he was full of compliments and a first-class charmer, but more than that, he seemed to go out of his way to help people and cheer them up and devise solutions to all sorts of problems. Another point in his favour was that he wasn’t uppity in the least, unlike his brother.

Because of all that, it didn’t sit right with Kurt to profit off his friendship with Cooper, and he told the man so.

Cooper proved stubborn about it, however, and by the time he rang off, the delivery of the sofa had been planned for that Wednesday, with Cooper overseeing the installation and making sure the delivery men had brought the exact one he ordered.

Kurt took a few minutes to collect himself before he went to the living room to brief Rachel and Santana.

Unlike him, they had no qualms about accepting extravagant gifts from Cooper, and whooped gleefully about the sofa bed.

“And he asked for pumpkin pie, so I’ll add that to the snacks I was planning,” Kurt said. “You can nibble on anything else beforehand, ‘cause I’m making plenty, but don’t you dare touch the pumpkin pie!”

“Oh, are you making those ghost sugar cookies again? Britt loves those!”

Kurt nodded. “Yep. The other desserts are a coffin cake, Dracula dentures, blood drip cupcakes and now pumpkin pie as well.”

“Anything vegan?”

Kurt hummed, thinking fast. “I planned on making black bean hummus, because Elliott loves that. I could also make stuffed mushrooms, those choco bites you like, and your special pumpkin cupcakes, maybe? And a skeleton crudité with a vegan dip, like last year? Only I’d expect you to actually HELP this time around instead of leaving it all to me.”

Rachel swore to help, glaring at Santana, who made no such promise to Kurt.

“You’ll be making your graveyard chicken enchilada dip again?” Kurt asked Santana, who nodded lazily, grinning at Rachel, and said, “And hot pepper mummies.”

“Good,” said Kurt. “Then with the ghost pizza bites, the mummy meatballs, the puff pastry eyeballs and a parmesan breadstick spider with lots of extra legs, we’re all set.”

Kurt put their old sofa on a second-hand sales website and arranged for it to be picked up on Wednesday at noon.

“You better hope Cooper turns up with that new sofa, or I’ll bunk in your bed tonight!” Santana said before she left for work.

Kurt bit his lip, and hoped that Cooper would be as good as his word.

After the old sofa had been picked up, Kurt cleaned the whole loft and made as much room as he could for the delivery men to maneuver. Then he made himself a quick lunch and ate it.

He didn’t want to sit around doing nothing until Cooper showed up, so he got started on the sugar cookie dough for the Halloween party. He’d just put it in the fridge when he heard knocking.

Quickly, he took off his apron, checked his clothes for flour stains, and then went to open the door.

There stood Cooper, with next to him a cute and smartly dressed curly-head, who was wearing a bow tie with ducks on it and announced that Kurt’s delivery was here. His accompanying smile dazzled Kurt, who could muster up no more than a rote answer, and led everyone inside.

Two delivery men installed the sofa, and then left. The cutie with the duck bow tie did not leave with them. He stayed around to explain to Kurt how the mechanism worked to turn the sofa into a bed.

Kurt truly appreciated the cutie running him through it, because it was far from simple, and it might have taken him a while to figure it out by himself, so he made sure to thank him after the explanation.

The cutie didn’t seemed pleased, though. Was he expecting a tip? Oh help, Kurt had been grocery-shopping for the party and had no cash left! Would he dare offer the guy some of Rachel’s vegan choco balls instead of money?

And then Cooper put his arm around the cutie’s shoulder and grinned at Kurt. “My little bro knows his stuff, doesn’t he?”

Kurt took another look at the cutie. Was this the same guy Cooper had brought to the wedding? It couldn’t be, could it? This cutie was all smiles and cheery colours and fun socks and wild curly hair. It had to be another brother than the stiff and starched one with the gelmet that had come to the wedding. Right?

Cooper clearly seemed to expect a response, so Kurt, floundering, asked whether the cutie worked in the sofa business.

It must have sounded as inane as it felt to Kurt. The cutie frowned in confusion and then told Kurt he was studying music at NYU.

So he’s musical too? Nice!

Kurt needed no more than that to strike up a conversation about Broadway plays, and had all but forgotten Cooper when he butted in to offer Kurt a modelling gig in his newest ad campaign.

Wow! But am I handsome enough for that?

When he voiced his concerns, both brothers were quick to reassure him that he was stunning.

The curly cutie had been flirting rather heavily with Kurt, so him alone, Kurt wouldn’t have believed, but he did believe Cooper, and readily agreed to work for him as a model. The cutie seemed happy about that, telling Kurt he’d be working on the same campaign.

Cooper and the cutie left with twin smiles on their faces and a promise to be there at 8 p.m. on Friday.

“Looking forward to the pumpkin pie already!” Cooper said. “Your cooking is stellar!”

Next to him, the cutie nodded emphatically and echoed “Stellar”, before turning around and following his brother.

Huh? Cooper hadn’t taken any wedding cake home, had he? So how would the cutie know Kurt was a good cook? Did that mean this WAS the same guy who had come to the wedding? What was his name again? Something with a B, right?

Kurt, feeling more puzzled than ever now, watched them go down the stairs, noting absently that the cutie had a lovely backside. Then he roused himself from his fit of abstraction, shrugged and slid the door closed.

It didn’t matter. Whoever it was would be coming to the party on Friday, and Kurt planned on finding out the guy’s name, and whether a churlish disposition or a sunny one was his default.

K&B

The following days were filled with classes and shifts at the diner and lots of cooking and baking whenever he was at home. The fridge and freezer were full to overflowing with snacks and desserts for the party.

Kurt let his roommates try everything, but made sure to keep reminding them that the pumpkin pie was off limits. He’d made two pies, just in case one didn’t turn out right, but both seemed okay, and he was pleased that he could offer Cooper at least something in return for his generosity.

Santana loved sleeping on the new sofa bed, and everyone loved sitting on it to watch television. Kurt had bought a water-resistant cover for the sofa to avoid it getting stained again, and a few cushions in bright colours to liven it up, and he quite liked how the living room looked now.

When Friday evening arrived, the loft was ready for a party. Rachel and Sam had put the decorations up under Kurt’s supervision, Britt had frosted and decorated tons of sugar cookies and cupcakes, Mercedes had helped Kurt with the last of the cooking and baking, and Santana had filled jugs with bright green, orange and red drinks she had mixed. A banner above the jugs invited party-goers to “choose their poison”.

Now Kurt was humming happily as he put his wig and then his helmet on, psyched for the party. Halloween was so much fun!

Half an hour later, the party was in full swing, and Kurt was sitting on the sofa and sipping one of Santana’s very strong drinks when Rachel came their way with Cooper in tow.

Cooper was holding a shiny top hat and wearing an embroidered white waistcoat, a black tailcoat, light grey trousers and high black boots. He looked amazing.

Kurt vaguely heard Santana banter with their guest, but didn’t pay much attention to what either of them said, because Cooper dressed up like that was a sight to see. The man was impossibly handsome.

All of a sudden, Cooper started to sing. Huh? What was going on?

And then it dawned on Kurt that Cooper had brought his brother with him again, who was dressed as Gaston from The Beauty and the Beast. They were singing the Gaston song together, and very well, too.

Kurt took in ‘Gaston’. Same stature as the curly cutie, same 1000 Watt smile too. But wow, those biceps! And wow, those thighs! And what a tiny waist he had, emphasized by the belt he wore…

“You’re drooling!” Santana hissed in his ear, and Kurt closed his mouth with a snap and glared at her.

Rachel took the Anderson brothers’ song as an invitation to start the karaoke part of the evening, and Kurt sighed. Another bet lost. He really shouldn’t bet with Santana anymore. She seemed to be psychic.

He forgot all about that, though, as soon as he was on stage singing For Good with Rachel.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Kurt may have drunk a few too many of those strong drinks Santana had mixed, and eaten too few of the mountains of snacks he’d prepared. Whatever it was, it made him wake up the next day with a pounding head and a tongue that felt like sandpaper, and no recollection of the party whatsoever.

He yawned and stretched and walked to the kitchen, where he inspected the remains of the party food in the fridge. Ha, there was still some pumpkin pie left!

He plonked down on a chair next to Santana, who was staring into a mug of coffee as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

“Those drinks of yours were a little too strong,” Kurt said, tucking into the pie.

Santana groaned. “I know. How can you eat when you’re hungover? I can’t even look at food right now!”

Kurt shrugged. “I’m hungry. Hey, did Cooper eat some pumpkin pie yesterday? I can’t remember.”

Santana’s head snapped up. “Of course you can’t! You only had eyes for his brother yesterday.”

Kurt stared at her dumbly.

“Blaine! You spent half of the party dancing with him. No more than that, though. I kept hoping you’d at least make out sloppily, or drag him to your bed, but you kept it PG. Boring.”

So his name was Blaine. Right. And apparently, they’d been dancing?

Kurt heaved a sigh of relief that no more than that had happened. He so didn’t want to have his first time kissing or having sex while he was drunk.

Plus, it would make the modelling gig scheduled for next Wednesday awkward. If he remembered correctly, Blaine had said he’d be working on it too. As the photographer maybe? Or arranging the shoot?

K&B

That Wednesday, when Kurt arrived at the address Cooper had given him, he couldn’t help staring. Somehow, they’d managed to turn an industrial building in NYC into a ranch. There was real grass on the floor. There was a cosy-looking farm house with a two-seater swing on the porch. And the ranch came with cows and calves, as well as horses and their handlers. The noise was deafening, and the chaos overwhelming.

Kurt hoped he could find either Cooper or Blaine soonish, because he felt so much like a fish out of water here in this big warehouse that buzzed with activity.

“Hey Kurt!”

Wait, I know that voice… That’s Blaine, right? Oh, good!

Kurt turned around, expecting to see Blaine in a cute vest and bowtie outfit like he’d worn to bring the sofa bed, and his eyes went wide with disbelief. Just how much of a chameleon was Blaine? He’d looked stiff and starched at Brittana’s wedding, cute and adorable while explaining how the sofa bed worked, hot and manly in his Gaston costume (unf, those arms!), but this was yet another side of him. A drop-dead gorgeous and sexy side.

Blaine’s curls were glossy and luscious, styled to frame his face beautifully. He wore a tiny bit of eyeshadow and eyeliner, just enough to make his eyes look really green. His lashes seemed longer and fuller than ever, and his lips the plumpest and most inviting Kurt had seen them yet.

He wore a tightly fitting T-shirt that accentuated his muscular arms, and jeans that hugged his legs in a way that made Kurt’s brain short-circuit.

“Come, let’s get you to our stylist and then to hair and make-up so that we can start shooting,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s hand and tugging him along. “This way. I know a shortcut. This shoot is going to be so awesome. We get to ride a horse, isn’t that great?”

Kurt, still reeling from how sexy Blaine looked and how it affected him, frowned in confusion.

“You’re a model, too?”

It slipped out before Kurt could stop the words, and he hated himself for blurting that out when he saw Blaine’s face fall.

“Not that you’re not… handsome enough or something. I mean, obviously, you are… I just thought you’d be the director or photographer or something… More… in charge, you know? Seeing as you’re Cooper’s brother and all.”

Blaine’s expression became stony, and he dropped Kurt’s hand like it had burned him, leaving Kurt to hurry after him so as not to get lost.

Kurt felt the hair on his arms prickle uncomfortably, and he rambled on. “Ugh, I’m sorry, that came out all wrong. Once I start putting my foot in it, I keep making things worse. So, you’re a model, too. That’s great. Really great.”

“Isn’t it just?” Cooper boomed, appearing out of nowhere and clapping Kurt on the shoulder. “Yes, Blaine often helps me direct, and he’s photographed a few shoots, too. But for this, I needed him to model. I mean, look at how he fills out that pair of jeans!”

Cooper made Blaine turn around so that Kurt could admire his backside, which he did with bad grace, his eyes shooting daggers at his brother. But wow, yes, Cooper had a point there. Kurt had difficulty tearing his eyes away from that delectable view to focus on what Cooper said next.

“Pair that with Blaine’s curls and lashes, and his million-dollar smile – give me the smile, squirt! – and you got one killer combination. Yep, Blaine will definitely be the main poster boy for this campaign.”

Kurt nodded. “I can see why.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and said to a guy rolling a rack of clothes around, “Kyle, this is the new model Cooper selected. Get him the dark wash jeans, a blue shirt and a cowboy hat. Tell Reena to leave his hair as is. She just needs to accentuate his eyes.”

“Maybe give him a bit of a tan?” Cooper suggested, but Blaine shot him another glare and bit at the stylist, “No tan.”

“Gotcha,” said Kyle cheerfully. He looked Kurt up and down, raffled through the clothes on the rack and then thrust a pair of jeans and a shirt into Kurt’s hands. “The hats are still boxed up, hang on…”

Kurt looked at the clothes he’d been given, and turned to Cooper. “So where do I… Is there a changing room?”

A snort came from behind him. He didn’t know whether it had come from Kyle or from Blaine, but it made his cheeks glow with embarrassment.

Cooper shook his head. “Nope, no changing room. You’re supposed to change right here. I promise everyone here is professional and won’t stare.”

Kurt looked down. “All… all right then.”

In his haste to get the jeans and shirt on quickly, he was clumsier than usual, nearly falling face first onto the floor while putting the pants on.

An arm wound around his middle to stop him from face-planting.

“There’s no hurry,” Blaine assured him. “Sam and Puck haven’t even arrived yet.”

Kurt whirled around. “What? Are they modelling today too?”

Blaine grinned and nodded. “You have to admit Sam makes sense as a cowboy. And Cooper liked the look of Puck as well.”

Kurt deflated a little. He’d thought that the fact Cooper chose him for this campaign meant something, but clearly, it didn’t, seeing as Cooper had asked any friend of Kurt’s that fit the profile. So much for being stunning.

As soon as Kurt was dressed and his make-up had been done, Blaine took him to meet the horses and cattle and their handlers.

“We’re going to do a few scenes where we look like we’re herding cattle, then a few on the porch, where we’ll be eating and playing guitar, and then a few at the bar, that’s over there,” Blaine explained.

Soon after, Sam and Puck arrived, and the shoot started.

It should have been plain sailing. When he was eight, Kurt had begged Burt for horse-riding lessons. He’d been the only boy, like in his ballet classes, but he’d loved the lessons nonetheless, and had become quite a proficient rider. The horses used for the shoot were docile, as were the cattle, and keeping them in line should have been a piece of cake.

Somehow, though, Kurt kept hitting snags. When he got on the horse that had been assigned to him, the saddle proved to be loose, sliding off and making Kurt look like he couldn’t even mount a horse properly.

Cursing under his breath, he fastened the saddle, and at the same time, he fixed the stirrup straps, which seemed to have been arranged to fit a child, or a very short man. That would have made him look like an idiot again. Had this been done on purpose?

He put it from his mind, focusing on gently guiding his horse and following Cooper’s instructions. Just when the horse had gotten used to him, something odd happened again.

There was a sudden explosion, deafening and bright, right in front of Kurt. His horse reared and then bolted, racing through the warehouse. Kurt had to use his entire body to steer the panicked animal away from people and cattle and camera equipment, while doing his utmost to calm it and not fall off.

By the time the horse slowed down and quieted, Kurt was exhausted, and his heart was beating out a drum solo.

Blaine helped him off the horse, looking stern.

“I don’t know what happened,” Kurt panted. “Was that a lamp that exploded?”

Blaine’s expression became even grimmer. “I’ll look into it.”

Tears pricked at Kurt’s eyes, and he had to work hard to keep them in. Now he’d probably ruined his chances of ever being in an Anderson ad campaign again – and through no fault of his own!

They picnicked on the porch, and then Sam and Blaine and Puck all started playing the guitar, and everyone sang along, which was fun.

The last scenes were in the bar, and seeing as Cooper offered them real alcohol to drink, it didn’t take Puck long to become obnoxious.

“Some cowboy you are. Can’t get on your horse, can’t keep it under control, and you scatter the cattle instead of herding them. How on earth did you even land this job?”

Kurt gritted his teeth and turned to a couple of guys who were practicing with a lasso as a game. “Can I borrow that for a minute?”

Kurt looked at the empty bottle they’d been aiming at and estimated the distance. Easy peasy.

He threw the lasso, and it landed neatly around the bottle.

The men cheered, and Kurt turned to Puck. “That’s how.”

Sam clapped him on the back, hollering, “That’s my boy!”

Even Puck whistled and said, “Neat!”

The only one who glowered when Kurt caught his eye was Blaine.

And then Kurt remembered that they were filming a scene for a commercial. And what he’d done had certainly NOT been in the script.

Uh-oh, messed up again! Stupid Puck!

But Cooper shouted, “Cut! That’s a wrap!” and came to Kurt to congratulate him for ending the story in such a powerful way. “This is just perfect! Well done!”

Phew! Thank heavens Cooper isn’t such a stick in the mud like his brother…

K&B

When Kurt saw the commercial on TV a few months later, he smiled. Somehow, Cooper had cut the footage in a way that made Kurt look good instead of clumsy, weaving through the cattle and other horses like he was born to do it, and the scene where he shut up Puck was the icing on the cake. Now that he got to look at it from another point of view, he noticed that Blaine wasn’t glaring at him but at Puck. Probably miffed about something else then, not about Kurt straying from the script. Good.

The check Kurt had gotten for being in the commercial and posing for pictures afterwards had been bigger than he’d expected. He would have no trouble paying his share of the rent for months to come. And Cooper had promised he’d get in touch if he had another commercial Kurt would be perfect for.

Yes, Brittany inviting Cooper to her fake wedding had been one of her more brilliant ideas, to be sure.

#bbb2020 #blaine big bang 2020 #klaine fanfiction #my fic #out of the blue

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gwenbrightly · 6 years

Text

Elements

Oh look! My brain decided to create a random drabble about elemental powers instead of focusing on OMAC… Oops. I guess Misako's appearance will have to wait… All the headcanons and stories I've been reading lately that mention Lloyd's powers acting up when he gets emotional made the temptation to write this too great. So yeah. This one shot can probably be considered a part of Of Milk and Cookies, and takes place just after the chapter titled Awkward. I hope you enjoy!

Elemental powers are weird, Lloyd muses early one morning not too long after their visit to Darkley's Boarding School. He can control his now – sorta – and the others can do some pretty amazing stuff with theirs – like being able to lift a sports car with your pinkie. Or spark fire with a snap of your fingers (literally). Or charge your phone using only your own energy. Or meditate inside of a freezer for hours on end without getting cold (okay, maybe he hadn't been around for that). All those things are incredibly cool, and Lloyd's not complaining, because someday he'll be able to do all of that too, which is super exciting. He can't wait, really.

But sometimes... Sometimes having powers isn't exactly the best. He's been around this weird, dorky family of his long enough to notice that there are days where things get a little out of wack. Where Kai or Zane get emotional and the temperature around them suddenly changes to the extreme, or any number of other bizarre side effects. Just last week, Lloyd walked into their skimpy apartment only to feel his hair immediately begin defying gravity due to the sheer amount of electricity filling the air. Puns involving shocking had most definitely been made. Cole and Jay's latest argument (See: whether or not pineapple is an acceptable topping for pizza) had gotten a little... heated, and the master of lightning's powers had acted up as a result. It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened, and the blonde is pretty sure it won't be the last. Still, he has to admit that it's a little (a lot) unnerving to deal with the aftermath of an elemental outburst... Especially... now that he's experienced his own for the first time... Okay, he'll admit it – that's the real reason he's up right now – not because he was craving poptarts. Which is what he plans to tell the others if they question it. Not that they're awake, so he's safe. For the time being, at least. Maybe he can get this glass cleaned up and replace the lightbulb before anyone finds out? If he's lucky. Lloyd slips over to the meager set of cupboards that they've installed in one corner. They have to be keeping some extra lightbulbs around here somewhere... Honestly, given what's happened during training, he really shouldn't be surprised that his latest nightmare ended with him blowing up their light source – it had been so vivid, and just… he'd woken up terrified. He hates feeling like that. He'd stared at the mess for quite some time, too shocked to do anything about it at first, but. Having all that power running through his veins was guaranteed to catch up with him eventually. He knows that, but it doesn't make attempting to quietly remove broken glass from the floor any less of a struggle. Carefully picking up the largest piece of what used to be a lightbulb, Lloyd shoves it in the garbage. Bit by bit, the debris begins to disappear. The green ninja has managed to dispose of most it by the time someone else wakes up (it's impressive that it took this long, to tell the truth). It's Nya, of course, trying hard to cover up the fact that she isn't a morning person (at all). The girl seems to have some sort of magical sensing abilities that activate whenever he's in trouble. She gives him a concerned look before wordlessly grabbing a fresh lightbulb from a shelf too high for him to reach. The samurai drags their one whole rickety stool over to the socket and screws it in with a large yawn. Then, Nya gives the floor a quick scan, looking for any remaining hazards that might exist. There are none.

"So. I earned some extra cash at the autobody shop yesterday. Wanna go get some donuts?" The girl asks her adoptive brother, eventually.

"Huh?" Lloyd stares at her, not fully processing the question. She shakes her head with a sigh. Clearly today's gonna be a rough one. He really could stand to get away from the apartment for awhile – to decompress and all that therapeutic stuff you're supposed to do when you're dealing with emotional triggers.

"Donuts, Lloyd. You know, those pastries police men are so obsessed with? I'm leaving in five with or without you." His mind may not immediately get what she's saying, but his stomach certainly does. Growl.

"That's a yes, then?" Nya says, smirking.

"Sure. Okay." He replies with a shrug, because donuts do sound awfully good, now that he thinks about it and. He's not gonna pass up the opportunity to eat something other than off brand cereal for breakfast. That would be completely out of character, no matter what the reason for doing so is. They slip out of the apartment, careful not to wake the others (though Cole's definitely going to be offended if he finds out about it later) and wander down the sidewalk. As it turns out, the nearest donut shop is less than a block away. The smell of freshly fried dough greets the pair as they push the door open. Mmm… It's only when she notices the distinct lack of customers inside that Nya realizes how early it is. A glance at her phone (which she probably should've checked before they left) tells her it's not even 5:30 yet. Oh well, if the place is open, it's not like they're intruding or anything. Lloyd perks up noticeably when she lets him pick out his own donut – a questionable decision, since he immediately chooses the one with as much frosting as humanly possible and a thick coating of rainbow sprinkles. It even has gummy worms on it. A part of her wants to scold him for being so unhealthy, but the grin on his face. She can't. So, she selects a donut of her own (powdered sugar with raspberry filling) and hands the drowsy cashier a bill. They find themselves a booth near the windows lining the front of the store and enjoy their breakfast in silence for a few minutes before Nya says anything to Lloyd.

"So. Nightmare?"

"Yup." He tells her in a small voice, playing absent mindedly with one of his gummy worms.

"I kinda figured." She comments wearily, "You gonna be okay?"

"Dunno. Hope so."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I-I…. Don't really remember much about the dream itself… Just… It was so freaky to wake up with the light going crazy… and then it exploded, and I've never had my powers go out of control on me like that and…" Nya wraps a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders. He leans against her, regretting having been woken up so early, and perhaps still a little shaken by the events that transpired earlier.

"I'm sure it was pretty freaky… You know you can always wake on of us up if you need to, right?" Lloyd nods unconvincing. There are no tears, surprisingly, which Nya takes as a good sign.

"I know… And I was gonna. Eventually. But I wanted to take care of the glass first – so nobody stopped on it. Thanks for helping. With the lightbulb. Being short sucks sometimes."

"Course it does. But it's gonna suck even more someday when you finally stop being such a pipsqueak and end up taller than me." Asserts the samurai. He giggles weakly.

"You don't know that that's what's gonna happen… maybe you'll get lucky?"

"I guess you have a point there. But seriously, if you have any more issues with your powers, I'm here to help. And so are the others. I mean, Kai accidentally set his bunk on fire when he first got his true potential… Maybe you should talk to him about this – I'm sure he'd understand…" Kai is a pretty okay listener from what Lloyd's seen at this point. He probably wouldn't have convinced himself to revisit Darkley's without him.

"M'kay. I'll think about it." He decides through a mouthful of donut, "Not right now though? I kinda just wanna forget about the whole thing…"

"That's valid. This can be our little secret. Betcha the guys aren't even awake yet." The girl agrees, figuring he'll share more when he's ready. She's not gonna push him. This time.

"They're really missing out. This donut is delicious." Lloyd tells her, clearly done talking about powers, nightmares, or anything related. Life's really not so bad when you've got an awesome older sister to buy you junk good. Even if it is only because your elemental abilities went haywire in your sleep.

"Totally. But they don't need to know anything about that. You, on the other hand, will be taking a nap as soon as training is over for the day. And I don't meaning laying around reading comic books. Actually sleeping will be expected." Nya stated, giving him a pointed look.

"What? But that's not fair! I just got a new one!" Lloyd groans indignantly.

"And I'm sure you find plenty of time to read it eventually. However, you also need your rest, so that's gonna have to be a priority for now." Deep down, he knows she's right. He just doesn't plan on admitting it. So, he decides to focus on what's left of the mound of pastry, frosting, and sprinkles instead. He feels better now, anyway.

" So, that happened?" Lloyd says one day, several years down the road, as he stares at a soaking wet Kai. He's not even sure where that much water could possibly have come from.

"Uh... Oh my gosh, Kai, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." Nya apologizes, attempting to use her abilities to draw the moisture away from her brother.

"I mean, we all knew it was gonna happen eventually. S'not that big of a deal. But you do owe me a new tube of hair gel..." He shrugs, not particularly concerned. The reason for their... Disagreement isn't important anymore. Things have been tense for everyone since the battle with Morro. He just wants her to be okay. She's not exactly the biggest fan of her elemental powers in the first place.

"Yeah. That's fair." She agrees after a second, looking sheepish.

"Happens to all of us." Lloyd reminds her, "Wanna go get some donuts?"

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #my fics #lloyd #nya #kai #elemental powers #side effects #stuff explodes #but donuts make things better

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talesfromtheindigoghost · 5 years

Text

Good Intentions: Entry 3

Do you want to know the funniest part of all of this?

I’ve actually tried going to therapy to get help processing all of this. The more I think about it, the less traumatic and bizarre it sounds but that pretense just falls to pieces once I start talking about it out loud. That’s kind of the point of getting help, though, isn’t it?

The view from my patio isn’t as dazzling or profound as what I assume is heaven but I still love to watch the sun rise over the woods and bring its light and warmth to whatever might be wandering around the yard. Squirrels, raccoons, possums… plenty of feral cats, sometimes even deer, if I’m really lucky.

A fat, orange tabby cautiously peeks her head out from the window of the modest shed I helped build a few years back. I watched her squeeze through, despite it barely being ajar, amazed at how her drooping belly seems to pour out like dough out of a can of biscuits. I can’t help but smile as she turned and lets out a noise and, one by one, her four children slink out of the window and follow her to the food and water I’ve made a habit of leaving out every day.

I’ve done this since as long as I can remember, for as long as stray cats have wandered near. One of the times I had to go through all of that, the thing that used to be me managed to wander into the garage before I got back. That’s where I used to leave the food and water for the animals. I think seeing what it had done to that poor little kitten really messed with me, and what really pushed me into giving therapy a chance.

She was nice, and to be honest, I still consider going back but I always got the feeling she thought I was making everything up. To be fair, of course, I wouldn’t believe it either. Hell, I go through it, and I hardly believe any of it is real. Maybe the funniest part wasn’t that I went to therapy, but that I told the truth when I did.

Sort of.

I wondered to myself; how do you really explain this to someone? How could I possibly convey the sensation of dying to someone who’s never died before? In what way could I ever tell someone that by that point in my life I had already successfully killed myself more than thirty times?

The answer, it turns out, was a lot easier than I expected. I told the truth, but dressed it up as… creativity, for lack of a better term. My deaths became attempts, my journeys became colorful metaphors for how I was feeling. Weird how just being honest can be such a relief sometimes.

The things that used to be me became reflections.

She had explained to me, after I had broken down and confessed how guilty I felt over the death of that kitten, that it hadn’t been my fault at all. That there was no way I could have possibly known that the kitten was sleeping under the hood of my car when I started it. That was the only way I could think to describe what I had seen without making it sound like I was some monster that had a psychotic break and mutilated an innocent baby cat.

The best I could do, she suggested, was to forgive myself for an unfortunate accident and that I could learn from the experience to take steps to ensure it didn’t happen again. That’s why I started putting food in the shed instead of the garage. Sure, it’s not as close and convenient, but I do have this perfect view to watch them live their happy kitty lives.

It was great advice, actually. I don’t know what I would ever do if one of my reflections were to hurt something other than myself ever again.

I started being more mindful in my attempts to resolve my situation. She helped me realize that I can take precautions without sacrificing my unique needs. Of course, as far as she knew I was just some suicidal weirdo struggling to make it through every day who uses far too colorful language.

I can see the kittens circling their mother excitedly. They’re just as that age where they should be learning to eat on their own but they would still much rather get a good knead of milk. I close my eyes, hoping to hear their mewling carried on the wind blowing in over the trees. I catch the scent of trees and mud, of black licorice.

I’m glad I survived.

It took me over thirty trips to wherever the hell I go when it happens, but I do find myself glad to be back every time now. A shiver runs through me as the breeze hits me a little colder than expected, roughly reminding me that I’m still in my pajamas. I think it bothers the guys at the gate when I show up wearing something dumb.

The red dude looked offended enough to puke the one time I had arrived wearing a “WHO FARTED?” t-shirt and cargo shorts. I’m not even sure if they can die over there but I could’ve swore he was about to have a stroke. These pajamas weren’t funny or anything, I just liked the cow print on the pants. I forgot to ask what they thought, damn it.

Maybe that’s just the euphoria of the sunrise talking.

I look back only a few hours ago and I remember weeping, beating on my own forehead in frustration while I tried to talk myself out of another suicide attempt only to turn around and cry harder as I forced myself into it. I felt the bottom of my stomach sink into the abyss before vanishing entirely as I tightened the rope and doubted myself, wondering if it was all one psychotic delusion, sweet talking myself into finally dying so I can–

I realize, quite suddenly, that I’ve gone there and back again fifty times now. I hate it just as much as I hated it the first time, but I need answers. I demand answers. I want to know why this is happening, even if it takes an eternity of passive aggressive visits to their front gate. I give my soda can an experimental shake, just to confirm it’s empty, before cautiously inhaling as it passes my nose on its way across the deck and off the side into the recycling bin down below. I thought I smelled licorice again.

Maybe I should get myself a cake. That feels right. What do you have written on a cake like that? Happy 50th? Congratulations? I could always just wait another month and call it a birthday cake but then I couldn’t really do anything too morbid without bumming someone out. I wonder if the things that used to be me go well with ice cream?

My mind recoils imagining the sensation of a thick rope of black licorice hardening as it touches the ice cream. Cold and hard, like trying to chew into gummi bears just as you take them out of the freezer. The kind of strong, resistant type of chew that leaves your jaw tired and aching to the point where it’s hard to focus on the flavor. Still, I always eat it anyway. The thick, sickening scent of black licorice causes a sensation that feels like a growling stomach.

I try to distract myself by going back inside after one last loving glance towards Mama and her band of mischief makers. I try not to think about the feel of black blood filling my mouth, consuming my entire world with its overwhelming presence. Even as I strip, I fight against its call. I fight to ignore it as it knocks on my front door, as the knocks turn to pounds.

I can’t tell if I actually smell it or if I simply want to. The water is too hot, nearly burning me as I stand with my head under the shower, hoping and hoping the pain will force me to forget that delicious scent for a moment.

“It’s okay to cry when you’re overwhelmed.”

A quick, painful slap across the shower valve shoves me abruptly from the boiling pot into the ice bucket. A sob bursts out of me from the sudden shock, and I feel the immediate pain of relief as I let myself cry under the cold water.

I cry, and I cry. I cry so hard I almost throw up but there’s nothing inside of me but bile and woe. My now shivering hand fumbles with the valve, regretting the impulsive decision to freeze myself out under ice cold water and carefully bringing it back to a more comfortable warmth. I feel it all. I felt the scalding flow turn to icy knives and then finally into comfort.

I hate the clarity of it all. My thoughts are clear, thorough, even as I stand here bawling my eyes out in a desperate struggle to understand the existence I’ve been cursed with. I can feel the sadness and despair pulling me into an unknowable abyss abandoned by any and everything that can possibly existence. Uncertainty tears away at the very foundations of my mind as I wail and sob, begging the universe for some kind of final answer.

My heart aches with lost love. I find myself lost in a sea of emotions over the pain of rejection. I scream and curse her name, that horrible, vile woman who left me. I pine for her beauty and touch, a deep and powerful bloodlust growing in the hateful depths of my broken heart. I’m determined to make her regret what she’s done, even if it costs me my life.

My cries grow heavier, angrier, and the boiling acid of my hatred burns through the walls of my soul and drips corrosively onto my bones. I grind my teeth, craving the sensations of her delicate flesh submitting to my bite that I may consume her as I so rightfully deserve to.

The cloying stench of black licorice and its profane, irresistible temptations flood my world and swallow my very being. I’m not sure when I stopped crying but I’m far more alarmed by the violent, growling grunts exploding out of my body as I start trying to break a hole in the wall with my forehead again and again.

It wasn’t until this moment that I remembered that I’ve never been in a relationship before.

I don’t recognize any of these thoughts.

Nor do I recognize the dead thing shambling through my bathroom door, a thing that used to be someone, shrieking out its black, bloody hatred through a grey, blackened maw of fleshy mush.

This one isn’t mine.

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#horror #cw: suicide mention #cw: gore #psychological horror #writing

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sydnam · 6 years

Text

RSS 2018 Fic: Sweet Deal

Title: Sweet Deal

Author: Sydnam

Word Count: 1712

Prompt: Rumbelle bakes holiday treats

Summary: The Golds are invited to a cookie exchange. Only some members of the family are on board with this plan.

Author’s Note: Merry Rumbelle Secret Santa, @missielynne! Hope you enjoy this little slice of fluff. My family has a cookie exchange every year so as soon as I saw your prompt I wanted to work one in somehow.

There was no one to meet Rumplestiltskin at the door when he arrived home from the shop early in the afternoon. This was not unusual. His wife and son were often off on adventures of some kind, or reading, or napping this time of day. The noises coming from the kitchen, however, were definitely unusual.

“Belle?” The noise stopped after he called out to her. That was probably a good sign. “Gideon?”

“He fell asleep about 20 minutes ago,” Belle called out. “I’m in the kitchen.”

The kitchen, unsurprisingly given the noises when he first entered the house, looked like a bit of a disaster zone. This wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary. Cooking often led to messes, particularly if Gideon was allowed to “help” his parents with preparing food.

“Is the mixer possessed?” That explained the noise, at least. “Are we being haunted? Is there an angry sprite out for revenge for some real or imagined slight I committed years ago?” He walked to the counter and unplugged it for good measure. It did look somewhat menacing even switched off. Or perhaps the dough inside it was more menacing.

“Very few of those slights were imagined, Rumple,” Belle pointed out. “I haven’t seen any irate pixies or spirits or anything else in here. Just me. And a failed recipe. Or two.”

“What were, er, are you making?” Some baked good, he could see that much. “And did we own this many mixing bowls this morning?” He was fairly certain they had not.

“I went shopping this morning after you left. We needed more flour and I picked up a set of bowls and another cookie sheet.” And, apparently, half the contents of the baking aisle at the market. “Gideon was helping. He may have helped a bit too much. It was meant to be gingerbread. It … didn’t work out.” The bowl of the stand mixer still half full of what appeared to be rock-hard dough was evidence of that. “I thought I could adjust the recipe to make up for the extra that Gideon added...” She waved a hand at the cookie sheet full of what may have once been gingerbread men if he squinted and imagined them to be a warm brown color instead of charred. “That didn’t work out either.”

“It may be time to admit defeat. Walk away before the cookies can do any more damage to you or our home.”

“I need 5 dozen cookies for tomorrow,” Belle protested.

He had seen his wife eat prodigious amounts of food before. But 5 dozen cookies was too much for any one person. Too much to consume in one day even if Gideon helped and his son had quite the sweet tooth, inherited from both parents. “Whatever for?”

“There’s a cookie exchange and I promised we’d be there.”

“A cookie what?”

“A cookie exchange,” Belle repeated patiently.

“Why would you exchange cookies? And who would take these?” He gestured at the failed gingerbread strewn about the kitchen. It had been so clean when he left this morning.

Belle shook her head, smiling. “It’s a party. You bake cookies at your home. You take them to the party. You bring back other people’s cookies.”

“After baking your own. Why not just keep them? I understand not keeping these but surely we could try again. Or buy some if needed.”

“Because it’s fun, Rumple. And Mary Margaret and David invited us.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “We may, my dear, have differing definitions of ‘fun’.” Swapping cookies for other cookies certainly didn’t fit his own definition. Even exchanges were the least interesting form of a deal.

“Honestly, Rumple. I figured this out years ago.”

“You were always the perceptive one.” He paused. “You said ‘we’ would be there?”

“All three of us.” Belle laughed at the expression on her husband’s face. “You need to get out more. A little socialization during the holidays might stave off any Scrooge-like tendencies.”

“Bah.” The ‘humbug’ was left unsaid. “I ‘get out’ plenty,” he grumbled. “But really. Trading cookies with the Charmings? I would be delighted to take you to dinner somewhere instead. I’ll even exchange pleasantries with the waitstaff. Or on a trip? Somewhere we don’t know anyone?”

“Granny is coming,” Belle offered. “You enjoy talking with her. Although, talking may not be the right word. Verbal jousting? Sniping?”

“She probably uses frozen cookie dough,” Rumple muttered. “Stores it with the lasagnas in the back of the freezer.”

“Ruby,” Belle continued listing names, ignoring her husband and choosing not to point out he had suggested buying their own cookies mere moments before. He brought the frozen lasagna up at every opportunity. “Ashley. Aurora. Emma and Henry. Oh, and Regina.”

“Regina is not an incentive to attend anything.” He paused, considering. “Except perhaps a funeral?”

“Rumple!”

“We’ve made our peace,” he admitted. “For the moment. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten anything.” Or that he ever would. That line of thought, never a pleasant one, was interrupted by Gideon tearing into the room and crashing into his father’s legs. The nap had, apparently, been short lived.

“PAPA! We’re making cookies!”

Rumplestiltskin had had many lifetimes to perfect keeping a straight face when necessary. His son helped him stay in practice almost daily. “So I see. Shall we help Mama clean up now and try again?” Two sets of eyes on the boy would hopefully prevent any further incidents. They might even be successful at baking gingerbread this time.

“And then we go the party?” Gideon asked hopefully. “Mama said we go to a party.”

“Cleaning first,” Rumplestiltskin said. It simply would not do to disappoint his son. If Gideon wanted cookies and a party then Gideon would have both. “Then cookies. Your papa knows an excellent gingerbread recipe.”

The cleaning didn’t take as long as Rumplestiltskin would have thought when he first entered the kitchen. The not-quite gingerbread stuck to the bowls and the extra crispy cookies required a significant amount of scraping to come off the baking sheet but with both of them working together it Even Gideon helped with drying after all the bowls and baking sheets were washed. Once the kitchen was free of the last remaining evidence of failed gingerbread attempts it was time to begin again.

“I learned to make this a very, very long time ago,” Rumplestiltskin told Gideon. “We need to measure carefully. Will you be very careful helping your mama and me?” Gideon nodded solemnly.

Belle leaned against the counter watching them and smiling. This was all she’d wanted.

“Mama, you help too. Time to stir!” Gideon waved the wooden spoon in his hand, nearly falling off the chair he stood on as he did so.

“Or we could use the haunted mixer,” Rumplestiltskin suggested, barely holding back a smile.

“We have ghostses?” Gideon’s eyes went wide.

“We do NOT,” Belle said firmly, taking the spoon from her son’s hand. “But let’s use the spoon. That’s more fun, isn’t it?”

“It tastes better if you mix by hand.” Rumplestiltskin nodded to the bowl. “Wouldn’t want to overmix. The dough can be sensitive. And it needs to rest before we roll it out.”

“I never knew you baked,” Belle said quietly as she helped guide the spoon Gideon was using to stir.

“If you knew everything, dearest, you would grow tired of me. I need my store of surprises to keep you interested. Besides,” he paused to take the bowl away to the refrigerator. “You never thought to ask.”

Belle laughed. Gideon, not wanting to be left out, laughed a beat later. “I’ll try to be more inquisitive in the future,” Belle promised.

The dough needed time. Gideon found what his father considered a terrible Christmas movie to watch but as always he found it difficult to deny his son anything. Once the movie was over, after what Rumplestiltskin considered an interminable amount of time, he leapt from the couch and headed for the kitchen to roll out the dough.

“You can choose the cookie cutters,” he told Gideon. The choices were somewhat limited but after careful deliberation a traditional gingerbread man and a duck were settled on. Belle added a star. With all three family members working together cutting out the shapes went quickly. Baking them took slightly longer. Convincing Gideon that cookies needed to cool before they could be safely eaten took longer still.

“Not icing them seems safest,” Rumplestiltskin suggested. “No need to anger the stand mixer again so soon. A sprinkling of powdered sugar instead?”

The cookies were, eventually, delicious. Even the unseasonable ducks. “You’re sure you want to trade these all away?” Rumplestiltskin asked as he and Belle cleaned the kitchen yet again that evening. Letting Gideon take charge of applying the sugar to the freshly baked cookies had been an unwise decision even if it had been thoroughly entertaining to witness. “Who knows what the others will bring tomorrow. It could be a terrible deal.”

“It’s not a deal,” Belle said firmly. “And yes I am sure. We are going to the party. We are taking our gingerbread cookies. We are taking other cookies home with us when we leave.” Her tone brooked no argument.

In the end that’s exactly what happened. Not that there had ever really been any doubt. Belle and Gideon were going to get their way, one way or another. The party was attended by all three members of the Gold family. Belle had a lovely time. Gideon attempted and nearly succeeded in eating his weight in cookies. Rumplestiltskin argued with Granny over the merits of their respective gingerbread cookies and kept up the pretense he wasn’t enjoying himself at all.

That night, over tea and cookies after Gideon was put to bed, Belle smiled across the table at her husband. “See? Not so terrible.”

He made a noncommittal noise and picked up another chocolate cookie. “I’ve attended worse gatherings. With worse refreshment options.”

“You had fun,” Belle accused, laughing.

“I admit nothing.” And he would continue admitting nothing. Even if he had to keep eating cookies to stop himself talking. He especially was not about to admit that he had even enjoyed one of Regina’s cookies. Some things were simply never meant to be said aloud.

#rumbelle secret santa #missielynne #rss 2018 #mandy wrote a thing #my rumbelle feels

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boiginny · 7 years

Text

Happy New Year

A little tame Stucky domestic fluff from a writing prompt on @justsomewritingprompts

Bucky carefully wrapped tape around Steve’s hand, chuckling when Steve winced.

“How the hell do you even break your own hand in an oven door?” Bucky said.

“Shut up,” Steve grumbled.

“I’m curious. I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

“Thought I said shut up.”

Bucky finished off the tape and Steve retrieved his hand, out of Bucky’s reach. Bad enough he’d been trying to manipulate thawing cookie dough with nervous fingers. Bad enough he’d forgotten the oven door didn’t stay open under its own weight. He had to put up with Bucky laughing at him for it.

“How does an oven door have enough force to even - ”

“I’m sure it’s not broken. And I’m sure you’re just babying me ‘cuz you think it’s funny.”

“Guilty.”

Bucky hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

“You were making cookies?”

Steve shrugged. He was trying to. Meant it to be a surprise. So much for that.

“It’s New Years,” Steve said.

Bucky’s smile drained slowly from his face. He blinked, and looked away to the wall, watching the silent film of his own memories behind his eyes. Steve’s stomach clenched. Still did every time Bucky’s eyes lost focus and connection to the present. There were any number of things New Years could mean to him after so long. Steve couldn’t know he’d make the same connection Steve would.

“Was it… your mom, or mine…” Bucky asked quietly, “who made cookies for the kids because she wouldn’t let us have champagne on New Years?”

Or he would only remember part of it. Always a possibility.

“Yours,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah…”

Bucky twined the sleeve of his sweater in his whirring fingertips. SHIELD hadn’t known his exact size. They guessed high. The sleeves overhung his hands. And he’d worn the edges thin, thinking.

Their stay at the Retreat was courtesy of a long argument with agent Coulson, who just couldn’t say no to Steve in the end. SHIELD wanted the Winter Soldier locked up. Steve wanted his friend comfortable. They compromised. The Retreat was as secure as any prison and as welcoming as any home. Full pantry, full dressers, beautiful snowy view and impenetrable forcefield.

Over their time there Steve had watched Bucky’s eyes fade into the past over and over and learned. He’d rather be brought back than allowed to dwell. He’d rather have a joke than silence. Same as ever.

So Steve elbowed him gently in the shoulder, with the arm he held crooked above his own head. He waved the bandaged hand in Bucky’s direction.

“You missed your calling.”

Bucky’s eyes refocused and he smirked.

“Nah, I would’ve been a terrible nurse. No bedside manner. First time I made fun of a clumsy punk for slamming his own hand in the oven I’d’ve been fired.”

That’s better. Steve smiled.

“You could not make fun of me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The room filled with the smell of smoke. Now, let’s see. He’d preheated the oven, put the cookies on the sheet, put the sheet in the oven, lost his grip on the door and watched it crush his other hand, sworn in pain, Bucky had come into the room and sat him down on the couch and bandaged his hand and… Nope, he hadn’t set a timer, or taken the cookies out of the oven.

Steve bolted up from the couch and swore again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Bucky leaned back and howled laughter.

“Jesus, Rogers! You’re a mess!”

Yep, sure enough, smoke was drifting out of the oven door. Steve pulled it open with his good hand and held it, tried to prop it open with his knee, watched it slip up the fabric and slam closed again. Godforsaken thing… He yelled back at the couch.

“Not helping! You’re just gonna sit there and watch me do this one handed, are you?”

“Steve Rogers once again does battle with his sworn enemy, the ancient oven of Fury’s Retreat! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Although, as he said it, Bucky stood and walked into the kitchen. He would say that he would let Steve struggle, but reality never matched up, bless his heart. He hip checked Steve away from the oven and retrieved the cookie shaped charcoal, shaking his head, and dumped them in the sink.

“Thanks,” Steve said.

“Don’t mention it. There any more in the freezer? I’ll make them this time. You can’t be trusted.”

“Bucky, after this, if I eat another cookie it will be too soon.”

Bucky grinned and chucked him on the shoulder.

“Champagne then? Since we’re grown ups now?”

“Who? You? Pull the other one.”

Bucky shoved him back toward the living room and rummaged around in the fridge for the bottle agent Simmons left them. Jemma had spared a private sly smile for Steve that she probably thought was subtle and waved the bottle suggestively before she put it in the fridge with the rest of the restock. Steve pretended to be confused. The last thing he needed was the SHIELD gossip mill passing around the suggestion that Captain America and the Winter Soldier were anything more than friends. Even if Bucky did seem to be taking more opportunities than Steve had expected to touch him…

“Guess you need me to get your sorry self a glass, hm? You working with just one hand and all,” Bucky said.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Steve said, sinking into the couch and propping his arm back up. Just because Bucky was being a jerk didn’t mean he was wrong. “It’s not the worst I’ve been hurt on New Years.”

“No, you had your whole arm in a cast that one year.”

Steve smiled. Anything Bucky remembered without prompting was encouraging. Even if it was at his expense.

“As I recall I let you convince me to jump across that alley on the roof,” Steve said.

“And you saw the ice and went and did it anyway, so whose fault was that?”

“I’m still going with ‘Shut up.’”

Bucky came back into the living room with the bottle and two water glasses. Simmons’ genius hadn’t extended to glassware. But they weren’t picky. Couldn’t afford to be. Bucky pulled the sleeve of his sweater down over his left hand to hold the bottle and popped the cork with his right. Probably would’ve broken the bottle the other way around…

Bucky sat down and glanced around the room as he filled the glasses. “It’s nicer here, anyway.”

“Yeah, the House That Banner Built isn’t so bad.”

Steve accepted his glass and raised it in salute. “Better with company.” Staying at the Retreat after he came out of the ice had been pleasant enough, but lonely. The couch was much more comfortable with Bucky on the other side, swaddled in a soft knit and smiling.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, Steve,” Bucky said.

“Yeah I did. You spent enough time in a cell.”

Bucky shook his head. “Definitely makes the short list of all time weirdest prisons.”

Steve sighed. “We’ve been over this…”

“I know. I know.”

Bucky waved a hand dismissively and sat back in the couch cushions. Wasn’t worth talking about it for long. SHIELD was organizing their case, and they had plenty of evidence of what Hydra had done to him, and plenty of precedent for getting him acquitted of the crimes of the Winter Soldier. It was just a waiting game. Better to think about the shorter one.

“How long until midnight?” Steve asked.

Bucky tapped the screen of his phone on the coffee table and flipped it around to show Steve the big yellow 60 as it was replaced by 59 and 58. Nearly midnight. The dark leathers were in storage, there were no enemies knocking on the door, champagne sparkled in their glasses and snow in the windows outside. Not a half bad way to start a new year.

Bucky shifted closer to the middle of the couch, nearly into the angle where Steve’s arm was propped up. Only the throbbing pain in his hand kept him from burying it in the cozy cables across Bucky’s shoulders. If you’d asked, Steve couldn’t swear he knew whether the warmth that came to his face was from the fireplace or the soft expression Bucky turned on him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bucky said.

Steve’s mouth went dry. “Yeah?”

Bucky tipped his glass toward the window and mischief lit his eyes. “How does it know to let the snow through?”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“The laser grid around this place. Can’t walk through it but the snow falls just fine.”

“I… have no idea.”

One side of Bucky’s mouth turned up in a slow smile. “What? Not what you thought I was gonna ask you?”

Steve had no response to that. He cleared his throat and looked away, reached for Bucky’s phone to light up the timer again. Jemma teasing him, he could ignore. Bucky teasing him just wasn’t fair. The yellow number read 10 and Steve left it lit for the countdown. He sighed and raised his glass, wishing not for the first time that he could get drunk and get away. At least the countdown gave him something else to say.

“Five… four… three…”

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

Bucky closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s lips as the timer chimed on zero. Elsewhere in the world, fireworks lit the sky. And Steve could feel them explode in his own head. It was a brief kiss, didn’t even give him time to respond, but when Bucky pulled back the smile on his face was genuine. He wasn’t teasing.

“Happy New Year.”

Steve stared, baffled. Bucky raised his glass and clinked the edge against Steve’s, and he remembered himself. They sipped from the glasses, sharing a happy gaze over the rims, and Steve thought, the next time he kissed Bucky they would both taste like champagne. He grinned.

“Happy New Year, Bucky.”

#justsomewritingprompts #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #new years #new years kiss #fluff #domestic fluff #fan fiction

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experimentalmadness · 7 years

Text

Morning Rush

Ah jeeze, it’s a new OC. Well it’s on old OC that I revamped because I’m absolute garbage and was encouraged to start writing drabbles for my weird girl by @mitsurugireiji Anyway there will probably be more. I apologize ahead of time for unnecessary Batman OCs because apparently I’m still thirteen years old.

The gun was empty.

But the man sobbing on his knees in the middle of the alley did not need to know that.

Jacqueline watched him through the red-tinted haze of her goggles. The man was on all fours now. He had started with the typical pleas. Spare my life. I have a family. Please, I can get Mr. Falcone the money just give me more time. Jacqueline didn’t even have to say a word. She let him talk until he his words turned to babbling, melted into whimpering sobs.

The suit he wore was worn, she could see patches where someone had obviously hand sewn hemlines back together. Probably a victim of the ongoing recession. Even his briefcase looked worse for wear. This man was probably lucky if he still had money in his savings let alone a 401k deal or a shiny overseas bank account.

He stopped talking when she cocked the gun. The only sound in the empty 5am alley was that of his ragged breathing. Jacqueline took note of the ring on his finger. Married. He hadn’t been lying when he said he had family. That was a shame. This next part was always harder when they had families.

She tugged down on the black kerchief tied around the lower half of her face and crouched before him, tapping the top his head with the pistol. “Listen carefully.”

The man flinched at the feeling of the gun, but his eyes snapped up to hers at the sound of her voice. Maybe he hadn’t guess she was a woman. Maybe he hadn’t thought to care she was human at all. “Leave Gotham.”

“But…I…”

“If you can get to the docks by 6 you can get on one of the ferry boats. Get out. Don’t come back.”

“My kids…”

Kids, not my family, not my wife. Probably divorced. Maybe recently. If the wife was smart she was also out of Gotham by now. Guilt by association tended to follow those that owed powerful men money in this town. Still her gut twisted at the mention of kids. “Get to them if you can.”

He was rising to his feet, hands still warding off the pistol. “Thank you,” he was weeping again.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jacqueline reached one hand into her back pocket, feeling for the knife she always kept on her for special cases like these. “Falcone wanted two things: money or your head. Since I can’t go back without money I’ll need something in return.”

The knife was against the man’s wrist, with the butt end of the gun jammed into his mouth before he could run. “Please try not to scream.”

***

Jacqueline entered the bakery through the side. It was closer to the backroom closet. She pulled off her goggles, kerchief, hood and sweater, and stripped down before kicking the clothes into the far corner. She exchanged them out of the skirt and blouse she had brought down her hours before she had left for work; track pants for nylons, sneakers for flats.

“Jacky, Jesus Christ, are you in the shop already?”

Damn it. She had hoped Marion wouldn’t get up for at least another half hour. Or maybe she had lost track of time again. A glance at the clock confirmed just how close to opening she had cut her recent job. Grabbing a tightly sealed plastic bag from the floor she shoved launched it into the last fridge, as far far back as she could put it on the top shelf of the freezer. Luckily no one really counted the vats of bread dough but her otherwise someone would have been in for a nasty surprise.

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get some extra loaves going for the early morning rush.” Not entirely a lie. Jacky wondered why Marion never questioned how they perpetually had enough rolls to counter the crush from the downtown nine to fivers. The night shift was good for something at least.

Marion came wheeling down the ramp that led up to their shared apartment. “Coffee” she held up a mug as she let herself roll straight past Jacky. She stopped herself as she curved her wheelchair around the main kitchen counter.

“Stunts.” Jacky grinned at her sister taking a grateful sip from the steaming mug, already sweetened thoroughly with plenty of cream and sugar.

“You haven’t been sleeping well for a while, Jacky.” Marion clicked on the ovens, checked on the fermentation fridges, and never met her sister’s eyes.

Jacky clicked her fingernails over the rim of the mug. “It’s all this coffee you keep giving me.” Leaning down she gave Marion a quick peck on the forehead. “Maybe switch to tea once in a while.” She made her way to the front of the bakery, switching on the main shop lights as she left the kitchen.

“I think you just like getting up early so you can be at the register in time for your favorite customer to show up!”

Jacky choked on her coffee. “Every customer who tips is my favorite.”

Her sister snickered wickedly in the back and Jacky felt her cheeks heat as she mumbled a few pathetic excuses into her mug before flipping the Closed sign by the door to Open. “Morning rush incoming,” she warned, heading back to her place behind the register and the espresso machine.

For a time the bakery was quiet. Jacky finished up her first cup of coffee for the morning as she watched the streets fill with commuters. Grey suits, black suits, blazers, pencil skirts, briefcases all passed by the window in increased numbers as the clock moved from six to seven. She always found a kind of quiet magic in the crushed intensity, the outpouring of people from all over. All tired, eager, done, fresh—never mattered. She knew them all. She was the friendly face they saw in the morning and the tailing shadow that followed them long after they forgot about her.

Marion had started singing to herself as she brought the first trays of baked goods out to add to the glass cases. The smell of fresh bread and muffins wafted out into the cafe making Jacky’s mouth water. She should probably open up the doors and let that invite in their first customers, but she wanted to preserve this little slice of peace for just a little longer—where she was just a girl with a cafe she ran with her sister. And there were no debts owed. No lack of insurance filling up her every thought. And no chilled body parts hiding in the back of the fridge.

The bell snapped Jacky out of her reverie.

She straightened up. Smiled. She did not have favorites. It was just a coincidence who came in first.

“Hey Harvey, what’s it gonna be today?”

#Jaqueline Ripley #god dare I even tag this?#If you like Batman and OCs and Harvey Dent then hit this hot trash up #I'll call myself out for this first don't you worry

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eggnogdoubt38-blog · 5 years

Text

Chocolate Chip Pecan Cinnamon Rolls #BrunchWeek

Chocolate Chip Pecan Cinnamon Rolls – That’s right, flaky baked cinnamon rolls filled with warm melting chocolate chips, everyone’s favorite hazelnut spread, and crunchy pecans. Read: the best cinnamon rolls ever.

This post is sponsored in conjunction with #BrunchWeek. I received product samples from sponsor companies to aid in the creation of the #Brunchweek recipes. All opinions are mine alone.

The good, the bad, and the baked goods.

I owe the world an apology. I am have taken time to become selfish. I took some much needed time to step back and sort out some things and put my feet back under me. And you know what? It felt great. And now I am back – and ready to speak with that voice I lost along the way and show you guys those crazy travels and mouth-watering recipes that keep me grounded and excited to create!

We can get into those details later, you know, a little girl talk with cocktails. But for now, let’s roll into BRUNCH WEEK! It’s an event that’s been going on a few years and I am finally saddling up and joining in. A week-long party for crazy delicious eats centered around everyone’s favorite meal.

See, there’s something about brunch that works. It’s my favorite meal out, something about the sneaky act of not cooking and sipping something slow out and about or taking the morning slow and lazy and finally setting something crazy good (like these Chocolate Chip Pecan Cinnamon Rolls – hint hint wink wink) down on the table. So now, without further ramblings….

Welcome to #BrunchWeek 2018 hosted by Love and Confections and A Kitchen Hoor’s Adventures! This year is even bigger and better than ever! Thirty-eight bloggers from around the country are showcasing their best brunch dishes. We have so many delicious recipes for you to enjoy throughout the week (over 150!!) including cocktails, appetizers, pastries, tarts, main courses, and plenty of desserts! Our BrunchWeek Sponsors are helping us give away some great prizes. Thank you so much, Sponsors, for your generosity. We have an incredible giveaway below and we’d love if you would take a moment to read about it and what you can win!

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Our flavors. Your creations. For over 50 years, LorAnn Oils has been supplying professionals and home chefs with the finest quality candy and baking flavors, essential oils, and specialty ingredients. Visit us at www.LorAnnOils.com to shop, learn, and discover new recipe ideas.

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Chocolate Chip Pecan Cinnamon Rolls

Ingredients

For the Rolls

2 1/4 oz packages active dry yeast

1 cup buttermilk, warmed to 110 degrees F

1/2 cup butter, melted and cooled

1/3 cup sugar

1 teas salt

2 eggs

3 1/2 - 4 cups flour

For the Filling

1/2 cup peacans

1 cup nutella, warmed but not hot

1 teas cinnamon

1/2 cup chocolate chips (I used dark chocolate chips)

For the Glaze

3 oz cream cheese, softened

1 tbsp powered sugar

1 tbsp buttermilk

1/4 teas hazelnut bakery emulsion

1/2 teas cinnamon

Preparation

For the Rolls

Mix the yeast in a mixing cup with the warmed buttermilk and allow to sit for 5 minutes until foamy.

Meanwhile, whisk the butter, sugar, salt, and eggs in a large bowl.

In the bowl of your stand mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, add 2 cups of the flour and make a well in the center for the buttermilk. Pour the buttermilk-yeast mixture and the butter-egg mix and start mixing slowly adding in the remaining 1 1/2 cups flour, 1/2 cup at a time.

Knead on low for 5 to 10 minutes until the dough forms a ball. Add the remaining 1/2 cup if the dough is not coming together.

Transfer the dough to a grease bowl, cover and allow to rest in a warm dry area, until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

Turn the dough out onto a clean working surface sprinkled with a bit of flour. Divide in half and roll out into a large rectangle

For the Filling

Toast the pecans in a preheated oven at 400 for 5 to 7 minutes, until fragrant. Remove, allow to cool, and chop.

Spread the nutella filling evenly over the rolled out dough., leaving an inch on a long end to roll. Sprinkle with cinnamon and chopped toasted pecans.

Tightly roll towards the edge that has been left clear, and cut into equal portions.

Arrange the rolls in a grease baking dish, cut side down, and cover.

Allow to rest, 45 minutes to 1 hour, until risen again.

To Make the Chocolate chip Pecan Cinnamon Rolls

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Bake the cinnamon rolls for 25 to 30 minutes, until golden and cooked through.

Remove from oven to cool

Make the Glaze

While the chocolate chip pecan cinnamon rolls are cooling, whisk the softened cream cheese with the powdered sugar, buttermilk, hazelnut bakery emulsion and cinnamon. Spread over the cooled (but still warm) rolls and sprinkle with more toasted chopped pecans for serving.

Adapted From

Alternatively, you can line a cast iron pan with parchment and bake the rolls in cast iron.

3.1

https://passthesushi.com/chocolate-chip-pecan-cinnamon-rolls/

Take a look at what the #BrunchWeek Bloggers are creating today!

BrunchWeek Beverages:

Cà Phê Trứng (Vietnamese Egg Coffee) from Tara’s Multicultural Table.

Cold Brew with Hazelnut Simple Syrup from The Barbee Housewife.

Hazelnut Milk Punch from Culinary Adventures with Camilla.

Irish Coffee from My Catholic Kitchen.

Strawberry Frosé from Love and Confections.

BrunchWeek Appetizers:

Everything Bagel Dip from Rants From My Crazy Kitchen.

Breakfast Oatmeal Thumbprint Cookies from The Spiffy Cookie.

Brown Sugar Cinnamon Coffeecake from It Bakes Me Happy.

Chocolate Coffee Maple Cupcakes from The PinterTest Kitchen.

Thank you to #BrunchWeek Sponsors: Dixie Crystals, Cabot Cheese, LorAnn Oils and Flavors, Cento Fine Foods, Michigan Asparagus, Cal-Organic and Eggland’s Best for providing the prizes free of charge. These companies also provided the bloggers with samples and product to use for #BrunchWeek recipes. All opinions are my own. The #BrunchWeek giveaway is open to U.S. residents, age 18 & up. All entries for the winner will be checked and verified. By entering you give the right to use your name and likeness. The number of entries received determines the odds of winning. Seven (7) winners will be selected. The prize packages will be sent directly from the giveaway sponsors. The #BrunchWeek Bloggers are not responsible for the fulfillment or delivery of the prize packages. Bloggers hosting this giveaway and their immediate family members in their household cannot enter or win the giveaway. No purchase necessary. Void where prohibited by law. This promotion is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter or any other social channel mentioned in the #Brunchweek posts or entry.

Source: https://passthesushi.com/chocolate-chip-pecan-cinnamon-rolls/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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