#with cinnamon being in basically everything for some reason??? I see cinnamon in a recipe and immediately know its a US recipe lmao

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Looking up some stuff for the recipe zine stuff and since of course almost every single result in every single search is American, I'm starting to think that there's only two flavours that exist there. (Cinnamon and peanut butter)

[laninaconansiedad]

Blog 3 | Baking With Anxiety | Progress

Peaches & The Anxiety of Disappointment

Have you ever wondered what peach cobbler and pound cake might taste like when combined? No. Well, either way, I have found the perfect recipe that fuses these beauties together. Imagine a soft velvety pillow of cinnamon and vanilla topped with sweet caramelized peaches. It tastes as amazing as it sounds.

I decided to kick off this series with a recipe I recently made for my brother after he kept begging me to make him a peach cobbler. Being the generous sister that I am, I ignored his request to make an authentic peach cobbler and made this recipe instead. Thankfully, he thought it great enough to eat half of it on his own.

So, sit down, relax, and read my journey to recreate this recipe again!

-Spoiler Alert: I almost burnt down my house-

I want to start this by being completely honest. Everything that usually goes smoothly during my baking process went wrong for some reason. The last time I made the cake, it was smooth sailing, and no incident occurred. This time it was as if I had made the baking gods angry that I didn't sacrifice a cupcake in their honor beforehand.

Look at me. I was so excited that I even took the time to set up my baking ingredients for a picture. Not knowing the chaos that was going to ensue once I started.

The first step the recipe requires you to do is to peel and slice the peaches. Simple, but once I began to peel them, I faced my first dilemma: the peaches weren't ripe. A disaster! I started to freak out because I only had two peaches and that's the exact number you need for the recipe. Amid panic, I resolved that once it was baked the peaches would cook down and absorb the flavor. Fortunately, my hypothesis was correct. And like the soldier I am, I continued and placed the sliced peaches covered with golden brown sugar and melted butter in the bottom of the pan.

I set the peaches aside and started on the pound cake. I placed two sticks of room-temperature butter into my mixer and beat it until it was soft and airy. Then, I added the eggs one at a time, ensuring that each was incorporated before adding the next. Now, at this point, your batter should look fluffy and light because of the air that is incorporated when the whipped butter combines with the eggs. Unfortunately for me, this was not my case. The eggs were stubborn and decided to not mingle with the butter. Instead, they wanted to be different and be too cool, literally. The eggs were not at room temperature, which caused the issue to arise. (Tip #1: make sure that both the butter and eggs are at room temperature when the recipe requires it. Usually, cupcakes, cookies, muffins, or cakes require this. Pastries such as croissants or pie crusts require cold ingredients.) Realizing my issue was temperature, I took the bowl off my stand mixer, did what any normal person would do, and hugged the bowl. I promise I'm not an insane person who finds love in inanimate objects. Although it does look a little weird if you were to walk into the kitchen and see me basically slow dancing with a bowl. My body temperature just allows the mixture to come back to room temperature, therefore allowing the eggs to whip into the eggs.

After this small setback, I added the rest of the ingredients (greek yogurt, vanilla extract, sugar, baking powder, and flour). When the batter was complete, I added half the batter to the baking pan, adding a layer of cinnamon and sugar before adding the rest on top. Then I placed the cake in the oven, which had been preheated to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, for around 55 minutes to an hour.

Now comes the fun part! The anxiety-inducing act of waiting. Once your baked good enters the oven, you enter a limbo of either complete happiness or utter disappointment. Usually, I don't become too nervous during this time, but after the series of incidents that occurred during the baking process, I was filled with fear. Fear that my first baked good that I presented to you guys was going to be a horrible failure. I noticed that all this fear and anxiety that was building up in me was due to being afraid of being a disappointment. I slightly touched on this topic in my last post, but I forgot how prevalent this fear was in my daily life. I tend to overdo or go above and beyond in certain aspects, not because it's beneficial to me, but because it can possibly cancel out someone, even if I don't know them, being disappointed in me. This anxiety seemed to call the shots when it came to my decision-making. When faced with a decision, I tend to think about how it will affect every single person rather than how it affects me. It's a constant fear that I tend to make worse by adding arduous tasks to my busy schedule and hoping that I won't fail at any single one of them.

As I was having this little existential crisis, I noticed a light coming from my oven. I ran over in a panic and noticed that some of the syrup created by the brown sugar and peach had seeped out of my pan and created a fire at the bottom of my oven (Tip #2: Always wrap the bottom of your springform pan with tin foil, even if you think it is not necessary. It is.). I put out the fire and cleaned as much syrup from the bottom as I could. Sweating from the heat radiating off the oven, I closed it back up and let the cake finish baking.

When the timer went off to remind me to check on the cake, I went over and stuck a knife straight through the center of it to see whether it was baked through. After an hour of baking, the knife came out clean, a sign that indicated it was ready to come out.

Here we are, the results that you all have been anxiously waiting for.

It actually turned out great! I cut the cake into four sections and gave it away to some friends and my mom's coworkers. I'm not sure if they were just being nice, but they loved it! The peaches caramelized perfectly and infused the cake with it's syrup, which made the cake soft and moist. The vanilla, cinnamon, and peaches all balanced out to create a delectable cake that also smelled incredible.

I bake to calm my stress. I say it so much that someone asked me "What stressed you out this week," when I brought them brownies recently. It probably sounded like this cake made me burn out, but it actually taught me how to handle disappointment. Specifically, how to handle the anxiety of disappointing someone when I fail. I came to a simple conclusion: I am going to fail someday. I'm not being pessimistic, just realistic. I need to be ok with the fact that failure is going to hit me one day. Will it drag me by the hair through the gutter until I don't recognize myself, yes. But it will teach me a great deal that I will never learn without it. Disappointment sucks, but it's how I pick myself up after that matters. Like, those annoying unripe peaches did at the beginning. Utter disappointments, but they worked with what they had to turn into a delicious treat.

Thank you for reading! Stayed tuned to watch me tackle my next stress bake; the amazingly tedious croissant that my professor Dr. Daniels promised would not be that difficult.

A picture of my mother trying the cake.

If you want to try this recipe, which you totally should, I placed the link below!

[clatterbane]

Being the way I am, before I realized that a cake was called for? I was already planning to put together some cinnamon rolls out of that sweet roll mix that I picked up on sale to make semlor for the rather sedate Swedish answer to Mardi Gras, and then totally failed to do so. Have the butter already set out to soften and everything.

Another reason I welcomed the idea of an extra simple to throw together cake, BTW, which wouldn't require more mixer running. Especially since I was going to make that after Mr. C has gone to bed. Our stand mixer motor is powerful but NOT quiet, and the neighbors probably wouldn't much appreciate that in the middle of the night either.

But, then it also occured to me that we've got a package of almond paste that didn't get used for the planned semlor either. And I bet that could also be good incorporated into cinnamon rolls, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yes, this is apparently an established thing here. And I can probably still use the same amount of butter that I already set out, just basically sub some almond paste in for the sugar in the filling. Recipes I'm seeing are mixed on whether to add some extra starch or breadcrumbs, but I guess we'll see how the consistency looks after it's mixed up.

The linked recipe is also handy, in calling for sprinkling flaked almonds on top of the rolls instead of the pearl sugar that's normally standard on cinnamon rolls here. We don't have pearl sugar, and I don't like the texture. (Which is kinda why I never bought any.) OTOH, we do have an open bag of flaked almonds, everybody here enjoys those, and that also neatly sidesteps the whole glaze vs. crunchy sugar bits cultural divide. 😅

[spooniechef]

Versatile Chocolate Fudge (1 spoon)

Decided against the meal recipes that were an option for a recipe today, and decided to move on to something a little sweeter - namely, chocolate fudge. Yes, fudge can easily be purchased, but it can also be expensive, and this particular fudge recipe, repurposed from a mocha fudge recipe from Alida’s Kitchen, is very forgiving when it comes to the quality of the chocolate being used, so that helps a lot in terms of keeping the costs down.

There was another benefit for me when I started making this recipe, and it was honestly more important: the morale boost making something like this can provide. One of the things that still gets to me to this day about having fibromyalgia is my current set of limitations. It always feels like there’s so little I can actually do that’s fun because I’ve got so few spoons and most of them have to be saved for things like work and cooking meals and cleaning the house. Just survival stuff. We always need more than survival. I found that little things like candy-making gave me a little more than survival. I could do things, and enjoy the rewards. Maybe it costs a spoon to make, but it’s just the one and just making something that was more than just the basics for myself did great things for my mental health.

Here’s what you��ll need:

12oz (340g) dark chocolate (seriously, just get the supermarket own brand value stuff; it’s totally fine)

1 can sweetened condensed milk (note for the lactose intolerant; vegan sweetened condensed milk sort of works but it doesn’t set nearly as well. I’d recommend using the regular sweetened condensed milk and stocking up on Lactaid)

Flavouring of your choice (see notes below)

Insofar as flavouring goes, the original recipe was for mocha fudge and asked for a teaspoon of espresso powder, which worked great. I decided to try it with other flavourings as well, and had a lot of luck with a teaspoon of peppermint extract for mint chocolate fudge, and with a teaspoon of orange extract and a half-teaspoon each of vanilla extract and cinnamon for a sort of spicy chocolate orange fudge. I have some other flavourings I’m keen to try, and it might be worth adding a half-cup or so of walnuts at the flavouring stage. But it’d probably also be great on its own. As well as being easy, this recipe’s wonderfully versatile.

Here’s what you do:

Put your chocolate (broken into chunks if you got the value-brand bars) and the sweetened condensed milk into a pot; heat it on low heat, stirring occasionally, until the chocolate has melted and everything is smooth. You don’t need a double boiler for this because of the sweetened condensed milk; just keep the heat low so you don’t burn your chocolate.

While that’s going on, line a square 9″ cake tin with greaseproof paper.

Take the chocolate mixture off the heat, add flavourings if desired, give it one more stir to mix the flavouring in properly.

Transfer your mixture to the cake tin (I recommend a reasonably firm rubber spatula; it helps get everything out of the corners of the pot) and smooth down

Move the cake tin to the fridge and leave it for a few hours for everything to set.

While waiting, lick the spatula. Life’s too short not to lick the spoon after making something nice.

Remove from fridge and cut into squares.

These should keep in a reasonably airtight container for a few weeks. This is good, because it’s a bit rich and I personally can’t get through a whole tin of this in just a few days.

So there you have it - easy, versatile chocolate fudge. The hardest part about this one is transferring the mixture from pot to cake tin, so it gets a one-spoon rating. As well as being a morale booster and just plain delicious, it’s also a great one to have in the recipe file if you’re doing homemade gifts for people.

[anthologiemystika]

Potions: Their Uses, Forms, and Misconceptions

Potions. We have all heard of them, from “Double Trouble Boil and Bubble” to the “PolyJuice Potion” and everything in between. Indeed, one of the first things that comes to mind in regards to witchcraft is the image of a crone, stopped over a cauldron, stirring up a potion. While this might not be the image of a modern witch, potions are still considered to be a staple and basic foundation for many forms of magic. In this lesson we will be covering their uses, forms, and misconceptions.

***It is VERY important that for any potion you make that you intend to ingest, that all ingredients are SAFE for consumption or contact with skin. Many crystals, mushrooms, and even herbs can be very DANGEROUS when ingested or touched to the skin. Please always do your research for your own safety***

Uses

Webster’s Dictionary defines a potion as a mixture of liquids and that the first usage of the word appears in the 14th century. While in practice a potion is a liquid, it might also contain herbs, stones, spices, etc. Contrary to popular belief, potions have a wide variety of uses. They can almost be considered spells in a bottle, or a “break glass in case of emergency” type of spell, one where the magic is bottled up and contained, only activating on who, or what, the intended target it.

Most people use potions for various reasons, including glamours, protection spells, safety during travel, and love spells. I mean, lets face it, what better way to feel confident than to literally toss confidence down the hatch. Who hasn’t thought of giving the one they love a brew infused with apples, cinnamon, and intention for the one they love to want them back. While protection potions are not as widely talked about, having a potion of protection in your handbag or backpack will always help to make sure you are safe, no matter where your travels take you. 

That being said, the single most common form of a potion is actually used in healing spells. Think about it, all the times you were sick as a child and a family member whipped up their “home made remedy”. Something that was always made in a pot, smelled of death, tasted worse, but brewed by a loving hand, and always making you feel better. This form of magic, simply stirring love into a recipe, is indeed one of the oldest types of magic and potion making. So next time your loved ones don’t feel well, remember that the simplest health potion is one made with a slice of lemon, a bit of honey, and a stirring of love. 

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

Quick and Easy Wake Up Potion

Heat a cup of water and add your favorite tea to your cup

While you wait for the tea to steep, light an orange candle on your altar or table

Say: “I am healthy and grateful for this day.”

Meditate as you drink your tea

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Forms

Contrary to popular belief, potions come in many forms. Indeed, some of the most powerful forms of potions are not even ones you drink. Did you know the Moon Water is a potion? It is a liquid, cleansed and charged with intent. That 4 Theives Oil you made? Also a potion. From hand creams, to tinctures, teas, and oils, potions have evolved much as humans have. Coming in a wide variety of forms, and even uses, potions in magic have evolved from “double double toil and trouble” variety, to any liquid item imbued with intention and magic.

In their oil form, most people use it to consecrate their altar items, or help open the third eye or chakra work. As tinctures they can be used for healing, cleansing, and charging. I mean, teas, do I even need to say more? There is a tea type or tea leaf for just about anything magical you could ever need, especially when trying to bring something into your life, letting others see a certain aspect of yourself, or increasing something you have. Teas are one of the most powerful potions that exist in the magical world, and also one of the easiest forms of potion magic there is. As for waters, magical water such as Florida Water, Moon Water, Sun Water, etc is even a form of potion making. Remember, potions just take a liquid and an intention.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

Waterfall Ward Protection Potion

For use to protect yourself and your home from unwanted energy

Ingredients: Vinegar, Water, Salt, Protection Herbs and Essential Oils

Actions: Mix it all together and let it sit for about 10 minutes. Then take a rag or cloth and let the water drip from the top of your windows and doors. Then wipe down the edges of the windows and the thresholds.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Misconceptions

Over the years there have been many misconceptions regarding potions, most notably that they must be drunk in order to work. This is not the case, indeed many potions are not safe to be ingested or exposed to your skin. A lot of the potions you will find in older grimoires are made from ingredients that are not safe, and were created long before modern medicine was even a spark or thought. Remember that they used to think that demons in your brain caused headaches? Probably not the people you want telling you what to put in your body.

Another common misconception is that something will “happen” when the potion is ready. I mean as cool as it would be, when a potion is complete at the end of the day it is still made of normal ingredients. There is no sparks, no fireworks, no smoke, no *boom* (and if there is, you have MUCH bigger issues, namely to call the fire department and hope they don’t ask why you were using explosive ingredients over a hot stove). When a potion is ready, much like anything else you do in the kitchen, you should know. Whether that is by instinct, smell and touch, or simply using an egg timer for 20 minutes on simmer. While not as satisfying, it is still magical and remember, that is all that is needed.

Finally, remember to simply DO YOUR RESEARCH! Items used in potions can be very dangerous, and sometimes don’t play well together.  Just think about what happens when you mix baking soda and vinegar. Potion making is as much witchcraft as it is chemistry so if you start looking for those random or rare ingredients, just make sure you research them first to prevent any “happy little accidents” (as Bob Ross would say). 

*All images were taken from Pinterest*

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe. 

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point." 

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn. 

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server. 

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Making omelettes at an egg farm

Annika has an egg farm, e-i-e-i-o... On this farm she has a bunch of chickens, e-i-e-i-o!

Literally the first thing that popped in my head when Annika posted about buying the farm. I still can't believe the place is hers - and Kaisa's too - like it was totally unexpected but with how things are turning out now, I can't imagine it happening any other way!

Running an egg farm was pretty much an accidental thing. Old Mr. Elmhearst built the place about fifty years ago, becoming known as the egg and poultry man for nearby towns. Then about a few years ago, he had to go into semi-retirement for health reasons before fully retiring last year. He then sold the farm and moved away to live with family. A neighbor took care of the chickens in the meantime while waiting for someone to buy the place.

It was the neighbor, Vint, who planted the idea of Annika running the egg farm through an offhand comment. Being a farmer himself, as well as the owner of the local produce stand, keeping up the egg farm on top of that is just too much for him. He's been helping Mr. Elmhearst find buyers but it turns out that egg farmers are a niche market. Of course, Vint's willing to keep running the place on the side for as long as it takes to find a new owner, but he can only do so much.

He mentioned the dilemma to his friends, who have also been helping out in terms of keeping up and looking for potential buyers. Annika and Kaisa were hanging out at the diner with a friend when Vint approached them and the guys got to talking about the egg farm. Annika and Kaisa were aware of the situation so Kaisa offered to pass the information along to her colleagues at the hospital.

What caught Annika's attention was the money. When Vint mentioned how successful Elmhearst was in terms of the money he made, Annika was all ears. Over the next several days she did a lot of research and asked Vint about the place. No one had any idea what she was thinking - they all thought she was just curious.

Let's just say that when Annika announced that she was going to buy the egg farm, no one believed her. Even Daisy Jane and I were questioning it when she posted about it online. It's not that we didn't think she could do it - more like why would someone with absolutely no background in farming want to take on something as big as running an egg farm? Given how at the time Annika was going through a bit of a rough time, it seemed like an impulse decision. Can't blame her though, as I too would've hopped on to the first opportunity to break out of a rut no matter how out of left field it was, especially if it fell straight into my lap.

Using her life's savings, Annika bought the egg farm. She had to do some poking and prodding to get Vint and Mr. Elmhearst to sell it to her. Reluctantly, they accepted her offer, cutting the price in half and saving half that money in case Annika changed her mind. Kaisa wasn't too crazy about the idea either, but she supported Annika on this new venture, offering to help out when Vint was unavailable.

As expected, Annika had a rough transition. Up until then she had never done anything related to farming or raising chickens. She never even had her own garden or took care of more than one plant at a time. Everything was brand new to her!

No one would hold it against her if she gave up. There were many times when she wanted to throw in the towel but she said that a little voice in her head kept telling her to get back up. Annika figured that a year was enough time to figure out whether or not running an egg farm's her thing - the others weren't sure if she was going to last a few months. Again, it's not that she can't do it, it's a question of whether is this something she really wanted to do.

Fast forward about six months in and everything's changed! Things still aren't 100% smooth, but it looks like Annika's found her footing. Just when she was about to admit that raising chickens wasn't for her, she decided to give it one last go. It's still a lot of work but Annika's finally starting to enjoy it. Big plot twist, right? From finding a routine that works for her to getting more comfortable working with chickens, Annika found that running an egg farm isn't too intimidating once you finally know what you're doing.

It also helps that she has loyal customers - mainly friends and family at the moment - so that's been keeping her afloat. Even when she struggled with the farm, she managed to break even with the profits and upkeep, which is actually pretty good. Obviously she's nowhere near how Elmhearst ran the place at its peak, but if she keeps this up, maybe she'll get there in a few years. For now she's happy that she's making a profit, and that buying the farm wasn't for nothing.

Seeing the quaint little farm in the countryside with the chickens and pastoral scenery, I can see why Annika was charmed by this place. It's one thing to read about her posts about the farm online, it's another to see her run the place. Annika's always been a fast learner, but being able to pretty much run an egg farm with no experience is an impressive feat! And of course, Vint helps out whenever he can so that makes things a little easier. Annika hopes to fully run things by herself once she's got everything down.

The house is in the process of renovations since it's pretty old. Elmhearst managed to fix up the place as much as he could before selling, but there's still a lot that needs to get done. Fortunately most of what's left to be fixed isn't really anything big, but now with Kaisa in the process of moving in with Annika, she wants to make sure the house is in tip top shape before she settles in.

That's part of the reason why me and the campers are visiting here. Aside from wanting to meet up with old friends, of course. I'm always accumulating on craft materials so I try to use them up rather than let them sit in my inventory because you can only store so much stuff at a time.

Along with building stuff for the house, we also got to help Annika out on the farm. She has six chickens, nicknamed the Spice Girls because of their names - Ginger, Cinnamon, Pepper, Cayenne, Anise, and Nutmeg. Aren't they cute names? I have never been in a chicken coop before so it was an interesting experience. Still getting used to being around them - I don't know why but I'm afraid of getting pecked or bitten by them. But for the most part they're pretty tame and friendly. I can see why Annika became attached to them once she got used to them.

Yeah, I don't know how Annika does it. Honestly, I probably would've given up as soon as the chickens started acting out. Farm life just ain't my cup of tea so anyone who can run one all by themselves is impressive in my book. I'm so proud of Annika and her accomplishments!

Kaisa stops by often to drop off some of her stuff and help out around the farm. I think her moving in with Annika is for the best. She's a nurse at the hospital, working the night shift - something that her dad and brothers aren't happy with. Basically they're early birds while Kaisa's a night owl - and the guys often make fun of her for sleeping in and such. Like, no offense to those who like waking up early but why do some of them feel the need to flex on that? I'm a night owl myself and why some people see that as a flaw that needs to be fixed is a mystery to me.

Like I said, Kaisa works the night shift from 7PM to 7AM. Being a new nurse, most of the entry level positions are for nights, so you gotta take what you can get. Working nights isn't bad though, things are a bit more quiet and you get paid more. Plus it's not like Kaisa's become nocturnal - she only works three days a week - so it's not like the job's taking over her life. In fact, the night shift works out perfectly for her and she loves it!

Literally the only reason why her family doesn't like it is because it's inconvenient for them. By inconvenient, I mean it goes against what they believe. Kaisa's dad has been pushing her to switch to days now that she's been working for over a year, which Kaisa has no desire to do. It also doesn't help that her family sees the night shift as a "lesser" position because patients are usually asleep at the time despite the fact that she is just as busy and gets more benefits from the job. Now it's getting to the point where Kaisa's finally fed up with them trying to push their standards on her that it's time for her to leave the nest.

I honestly don't understand people who feel the need to push their own ideals into others. They're the kind of people who act like their way is the best and if you aren't like them, then you need to be fixed. Although a good number of them do mean well sometimes, it's just exhausting trying to get them to understand that not everyone functions like they do.

Vint also drops by from time to time to help out and check in on us. Annika credits him for being the reason why she kept trying on the egg farm. Had she been running it all by herself, she would've given up after a few days. Kaisa says he's a good guy, but has a tendency to spread himself a little too thin. Although the three of them grew up together in the same town, it wasn't until Annika became neighbors with Vint when they really got to know each other. So in a way, he's become Annika and Kaisa's mentor/older brother figure. I'm looking forward to getting to know him some more in the next few days.

In between renovations and tending to the chickens, we got to looking up egg recipes like omelettes, quiches, custards, and more. Today we made omelettes as Vint gave us a big box full of fresh dairy and produce. I'm not an expert at making omelettes so it was good practice! Though, to be honest, I'm not the biggest fan of omelettes - they're a bit heavy and eggy for me so I can only enjoy them once in a while. But I have to say, using fresh eggs and veggies really do make a difference!

Since we were feeling creative from all the building and interior decorating, we kinda threw together an omelette contest. It's always fun to come up with new recipes and share them with friends!

Pancetti made an arugula, salmon, and goat cheese omelette over toast. I don't know why I never thought of having an omelette over toast - it's genius! Plus the goat cheese and salmon balance each other well while the arugula adds a nice contrast to the flavors. I think this is my favorite out of all the omelettes we made today.

Erik's creation is a pizza omelette, a creation that's fun to put together. It's basically a pizza but the crust is a cheesy omelette. Drizzle marinara, add some cheese and other toppings and voila - pizza omelette! I made mine with mozzarella, ricotta, onions, peppers, and sausage.

Plucky threw together an omelette salad topped with a creamy ranch dressing. The omelette's made with caramelized onions and chopped up into strips. For the ranch, she made some buttermilk, added a bunch of herbs and seasonings, and drizzled it over the salad. For some reason I don't like eggs in my salad but this is an exception - especially with the dressing.

Claude went for a dessert omelette, an interesting twist that turned out great! You'd think it would end up tasting like sweetened scrambled eggs or a custard gone wrong, but it's not. It's kinda like a pudding in terms of texture, but not overly sweet thanks to the cream cheese. To add to the dessert element is coconut sticky rice, which pairs well with the cream cheese omelette.

It's been fun helping Annika and Kaisa out on the farm. Like I said, none of us ever imagined Annika, out of all people, to run an egg farm. There's still a lot that she has to learn, which she's looking forward to. It's a lot of work, but she's been enjoying it a lot. Now that I've seen it for myself, I can't imagine her doing anything else. I can't wait to see where this venture will take her!

Tomorrow's more of the same - renovations, collecting eggs, and tending to the chickens. We're also gonna make puddings and help set up for the Apple Dumpling Festival, where Annika's running an egg stand.

[ficsrus]

fic recs: bts

this one’s a bit lengthy folks. have fun reading. make sure to give kudos and comments and lots of love to the authors!

namjin—

*prudence in the face of adversity: rated E, 7k

“But we’re not a girl group, hyung, there’s like…” Namjoon waves his hands in the air as he explains, “identity issues and gender issues and how are we supposed to dance with b—our bodies in this condition,” he finishes weakly. “And we can’t do publicity like this, or rehearse, and I don’t want to call the president and Seokjin-hyung is bleeding and I don’t know how to pick these things out from the store so could Hobi and I please just take a bit of money to the store to get things for Jin-hyung because he’s crying…”

[In which the entirety of Bangtan wakes up as women, and Namjoon is confused and put-upon.]

ch4otick gayz: rated T, 17k [includes vhopemin & yoonkook]

[EM0 CRAKHED]

jeon can't kook: jfc,,

jeon can't kook: sorry guys i took care of it,

jeon can't kook: i gave him like 3 tablets of Benadryl he's out

hobi-wan kenobi: kook, you're supposed to only take 1

jeon can't kook: ......

jeon can't kook: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess he'll die.

yoonmin—

hands down: rated T, 43k

Hoseok wouldn’t stop talking about him. It was Jimin this, Jimin that, Jimin was so cute, Jimin was so talented, Jimin danced so well and he was so nice- Yoongi had to control the impulse to roll his eyes the minute his name came out of Hoseok’s mouth.

So, yeah, maybe Yoongi was already predisposed towards disliking Park Jimin for some very valid reasons but this? This took the fucking cake.

the songbird and the sea: rated M, 256k [minor taekook and namjin]

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

*flashflood: rated E, 15k

A handjob a week is not much for Jimin to live off of.

Jimin thinks it’s sort of like the equivalent of feeding someone nothing but peas for all three meals of the day: sure, peas are all well and good, but eating peas and only peas for any extended period of time is going to result in some serious vitamin deficiencies. And probably some other bad stuff, although Jimin doesn’t actually know all that much about it.

composure: rated E, 131k

Everyone has secrets.

Everything in Jimin's life changed the day he presented as an Omega. It's as though the world were grabbed out from under him, launching him into a special hell not meant for someone with as much fire and potential as him.

This is why when Jimin is given the opportunity to stop being an Omega, he takes it.

What Jimin hadn't anticipated, is meeting his roommate, Yoongi, or realizing his entire cover will be blown if he can't stop going so crazy over that cinnamon and mint scent he has.

Too bad that is the least of his worries...

*(This is a story containing serious and dark themes with disturbing elements which become more prevelant as the story progresses.)

jikook—

*On Patrol: rated M, 130k [includes yoonseok & namjin; read the sequel here]

Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.

Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.

Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher.

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

under the mistletoe (with you): rated G, 5k

Jimin and Jungkook try to get Yoongi and Hoseok together during the holidays but it doesn't really go as planned.

The White Wolf’s Shadow: rated T, 41k [includes yoonseok, namjin, & taekook]

Jeongguk, a powerful Alpha in line for his father’s throne, needs a mate to wear the crown. When Jimin, an alluring Omega and foreign Prince, comes to re-cement their alliance everything seems to fall into place… against their wishes. Jeongguk, forced to decide what's more important, his own happiness or his people; and Jimin whose carrying deadly secrets that place the fate of everyone on his shoulders, are forced to come together. With enemies on all sides will they be able to overcome their struggles and do what has to be done?

Or

Jeongguk and Jimin’s wolves have liked each other from the start, but when they are forced into an arranged marriage both parties are unhappy about it for various reasons. Neither wants to admit it, but both find themselves falling for the other as time goes on.

yoonjin—

heists and hearts: rated T, 95k [minor jihope and vmon]

"Give me a number,” Yoongi says when Namjoon finally turns around in his computer chair. Namjoon looks at him and sighs.

"One."

It's not the first time he's stumped with one plan. Namjoon looks at Yoongi, eyes trained on him like a hawk. “One?” Yoongi asks, voice low. “One,” Namjoon repeats, “and you’re not going to like it.”

There’s a hint of curiosity in Yoongi’s eyes and a question attempts to come out from his lips. But instead, Namjoon hears the order from his partner.

“Call them in.”

a little water clears us of this deed: rated T, 4k

All Yoongi wanted was to read Macbeth and pass his Literature class in peace, not catch the attention of Kim Seokjin.

*best served cold: rated E, 16k

[They say when you / embark on a journey / of revenge, dig two graves. They underestimate me. (mr state trooper. please don’t stop me. please don’t stop me.)]

After Yoongi's parents get killed by the mob, Yoongi sets out to avenge them. No matter what it takes.

he’ll come back for the honey and you: rated E, 18k

“Cooking is attractive. Like playing guitar, it demonstrates your prowess with your hands, your sophisticated knowledge of an art form... But it goes deeper than that. Cooking is a shared experience, a way to express yourself to someone you care about.”

Or: Seokjin is no stranger to a little sugar. However, Yoongi is the sweetest thing he’s come across in a long time, and there's no recipe telling him exactly what he should do next.

a ballad for you: rated T, 3k

tumblr prompt from anon: "Hi, do you take requests that aren't smut? I'd like to see YoonJin where Jin mistakes Yoongi for his blind date."

[At this point, Seokjin only has one thing to say about his date; he needs to show the hell up.]

everything i need: rated M, 12k

“Sorry I’m late, babe. Traffic was awful,” the man is saying. He flashes a bright, gummy smile at Seokjin and nods apologetically at the waitress. “I’m sorry. Can we have five more minutes to look at the menu?”

He waits until she is gone before he leans across the table and says in a low voice. “I’m Yoongi. Just play along okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”

Or, the one where Seokjin is a single dad. His son is in love with the music their first floor neighbour plays on the piano, and the last thing Seokjin expects is to fall for the man behind the music.

déjà-brew : rated T, 7k

according to his employees, seokjin has a crush on the cute guy that comes around and orders an americano every single day. what they don’t know, and what seokjin hasn’t told them yet, is that they’re actually married. (he has his reasons, okay?)

yoonseok—

same damn hunger: rated E, 40k

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

the daily grind: rated E, 8k

hoesock87: I refuse to believe that u didn’t just google “cute asian twink” to get that selfie

yoongay: i am a cute asian twink. r u tryna fuck me or no

(or: yoonseok meet on grindr)

and one musn’t tell lies: rated M, 46k

Yoongi wants to fly so bad he's ready to break the rules for that. Jung Hoseok is the worst collateral damage possible. (Stop lying).

*days to weeks to months: rated M, 10k

Yoongi’s just trying to date the possible love of his life, Jung Hoseok. But the package deal includes five asshole friends and a theoretically infinite number of disasters.

Basically: a series of moments where Yoongi wonders why his friends and also god hate him.

see, i’ve got plans (to get to you): rated T, 11k

Yoongi and Hoseok have a game plan.

(Or: The one where Yoongi takes three tries to propose to Hoseok.)

single pringle: rated T, 7k [includes jikook and namjin]

Where Yoongi owns a restaurant that is a date hot-spot and he is single and salty at all the couples streaming into his restaurant on a daily basis. Not only that, but somewhere along the way he's gotten himself a couple of gay regulars who won't go away. And maybe someone who makes him a little less salty at the end too.

**halcyon: rated M, 27k [includes minjoon]

The only explanation for how two demons have found themselves on Earth is a simple one: Jung Hoseok loves to gamble and Min Yoongi can't resist a good game.

junghope—

blue flame special: rated E, 106k [minor vmin]

hoseok just got dumped and now a clearly under aged bartender is refusing to serve him a much needed round of shots.

("can you do this teenage angst thing some other time? my ex just walked in with his new boyfriend and i could really use some liquid cowardice."

the kid narrows his eyes in the direction hoseok had nodded toward. "seokjin hyung's your ex?")

hoseok nods. "you know him?"

"yeah," jeongguk glares at hoseok and begins stepping away, definitely refusing to serve him any drink at all. "he dumped me for you.")

yoonjihope [?? essentially yoongi/hoseok/jimin]—

**good things always belonged to everyone: rated E, 9k

Yoongi is trying to accept his part as the beta in a polyamorous relationship with an alpha and an omega. Little by little he notices just how unfitting that role is.

yoonkook—

soft melodies and softer touches: rated E, 11k

[22:39; I see the way you look at me, hyung.]

Yoongi's world stands still, and in that moment, he wants nothing more than to wring Jimin's neck. It's Jeongguk, it has to be Jeongguk, who else would it be? Yoongi knows many dancers--unfortunately Jimin's one of them--but there's only one that he's on close terms with, and whose number he doesn't have.

Jeongguk. It's Jeongguk. It's fucking Jeongguk.

(OR: Jeongguk's a contemporary dancer, and Yoongi is his academy's pianist).

take me out (the date way or the assassination way): rated T, 7k

jin [8:01] theres a mysterious hot guy on campus that yoongi keeps running into like a damn romantic drama but every time they meet he ends up nearly killing yoongi

tae [8:01] kinky

with a bang (stunted plants can bloom): rated M, 24k

what not to do when you find yourself falling for the guy you almost slept with but then didn’t because he turned out to be your friends’ roommate: a guide by min yoongi

flower boys: not rated, 3k

“it was pretty,” namjoon protests, trying to defend himself. “and it was a gift from a fan. wouldn’t she have been troubled to have to take it home?”

“and you brought it back to let it die?” yoongi interjects, dry as sand. he rises to his feet, dusting off his jeans. “you gonna take care of it, namjoonie?”

“how hard can it be,” namjoon says, but he sounds hesitant, like he knows his own annihilatory powers will trump his determination. “it’s a small plant. it needs water, sunlight, and air. we can provide all of those. piece of cake.”

(yoongi and jungkook take care of a plant together.)

i know i’ll fall in love with you, baby: rated T, 31k

The soulmate/soulbond au where Yoongi is part of a famous rap duo and Jungkook is his diligent fanboy, they meet at a fansign and things escalate from there

(alt. Yoongi didn’t sign up for this)

i blow up buildings (but i’d blow you): rated T, 8k

“Yoongi,” says Namjoon, his tone allowing no argument. He holds the boy an arms length in front of him and smiles painfully. “Meet Jeongguk. He’s your new bodyguard.”

Yoongi sputters and decides to argue anyway, because fuck no. “I said I don’t need a bodyguard, Namjoon.”

(Or, the AU where Yoongi has been receiving death threats from an enemy organisation known as Skeletal, and Jeon Jeongguk is the lucky bastard brought in to be his bodyguard. Yoongi tries to hate him. He really does.)

all the light we cannot see: rated T, 64k

“i’m not your servant!”

“you are on my ship now, and anyone on my ship does what i say,” snaps yoongi, and when he takes a step closer to jeongguk, jeongguk realizes that he’s actually taller than yoongi. strangely, he hadn’t noticed it before, because yoongi doesn’t seem like a small man. especially now, with that fiery look on his face, he seems larger than life—but jeongguk refuses to back down. it’s a bad idea to argue, he knows, but jeongguk has never been very good at stopping himself from doing something he’ll regret.

(or: when jeongguk finally gets his chance to sail the cosmos, it’s onboard the ship of an aggravating man named min yoongi. he thinks it’ll be extraordinarily dull—but the universe, and the legend of treasure planet, have other plans.)

gusto d’italia: rated E, 64k

Jungkook turned towards the kitchen - and walked straight into the icy glare of Min Yoongi.

“Are you always this late?”

Jungkook tried to bite his tongue. “I was talking to – ”

“I don’t care who you were talking to,” Yoongi snapped. He had both arms crossed firmly over his chest as he continued to berate Jungkook in front of the rest of the staff. “How am I supposed to trust you to get my food out on time if you can’t follow a simple direction that I gave less than five minutes ago?”

Jungkook stared at his feet. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

“Better fucking not.”

-----

[Jungkook always dreamed of becoming a chef in the future. When Yoongi, a culinary genius with unusual social skills, shows up in the kitchen of Gusto d'Italia, Jungkook becomes awestruck.]

taegi—

the less i know the better: rated E, 41k

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding making eye contact.

"I might’ve… invented a boyfriend," he finally mumbles to the glass in front of him

i want to believe: rated G, k

Taehyung starts an astronomy club.

my heart flutters from the sugar high: rated M, 6k

Yoongi and Taehyung sneak around together, cheating on their diets. The group? They've drawn different conclusions.

over the winter lake: rated E, 9k

There’s a small alcove along the outskirts of Daegu, not too deep in the woods, that lead to a lake of still waters and peaceful surroundings. Yoongi isn’t entirely fond of it—the body of water itself being named Death Lake by locals who’ve lived there long enough to tell the tales of the disturbing amount of murders, suicides, and disappearances that are linked with it.

Yoongi sees something in the water. Something inhuman.

abracadon’t: rated M, 7k

"i don't understand why you hate taehyung," hoseok always asks.

yoongi doesn't really understand either. but he's just so...hate-able.

or, taehyung never learned that annoying the fuck out of someone isn't actually a healthy way to show you like them.

namgi—

you could give it all (but it’s never enough): rated E, 46k

yoongi imprints with an alpha he's an alpha too

again again again: rated T, 8k

Yoongi takes a deep breath. Runs through the facts. 1. Namjoon is really fuckin drunk. 2. They made that dumbass pact well over ten years ago when they were both sad and weird and lonely. 3. His heart definitely did not seize up a little bit at the thought of marrying his best friend. It just didn’t.

vmin—

it’s not about reciprocation (it’s just all about me): rated E, 34k

“Taehyung and Jimin broke up.”

“It’s bullshit—”

“We were all rooting for them.”

“It’s complete bullshit—”

“Everyone actually thought they had a chance, you know?”

(Alternatively: Taehyung’s a problematic idiot who fell in love with the right person at the wrong time.)

jinkook—

*knowingly, i drank from the poisoned chalice: rated m, 22k

In captivity, Seokjin learns that you cannot have both love and life without sacrificing something important.

namgikook (namjoon/yoongi/jungkook)—

*the kinky encounter at the auto-erotic asphyxiation house: rated E, 6k

"The last owner of this house died too.”

“How?”

Jeongguk looks over his shoulder at them, his front teeth poking into his bottom lip as his nose scrunches and the corners of his eyes crinkle in a delighted grin. “Auto-erotic asphyxiation! Honestly, what a way to fucking go. Do you think he came before he died?”

“Christ, Jeongguk.”

Namjoon drops his head into his hands, letting out a long-suffering sigh as Jeongguk elbows him playfully.

“It’s a valid question!” Jeongguk snickers as both Namjoon and Yoongi give him a painfully withered look. “We can only hope his last moment was a pleasurable one.”

taekook—

**fading brilliance, fire on silk: rated E, 26k

Jungkook spent his life studying angels and demons, but none of his imaginary portrayals of them can even come close to Taehyung’s mystical, almost poetic beauty: sun-kissed skin and full lips, lashes so long that Jungkook feels the brush of it on his skin when Taehyung leans in to dip his tongue in the hollow of his throat.

Jungkook wonders if he’s already too far gone. The guilt doesn’t eat him up anymore, the shame only serving to heighten his arousal instead of extinguish it. Jungkook has no hope of salvation now, and he doesn’t even care, not when damnation tastes this fucking good.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 23: The Workers of Sacred Metal

Chapters: 23/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Let’s try this again) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Brunnhilde(Marvel), Thor(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Here Have More Hedacannons, Loki Can Be Thoughtful, Thoughtfulness is A Form Of Scheming After All, Reader is Always Curious, Nidavellir Has The Potential to b Really Cool. Summary: Reader returns in triumph, Loki goes into Teacher Mode. 

Loki kept his expression polite and even as Andsvarr presented him with the gift of a cinnamon roll, but internally he was dancing. A treat for him! From you! Yes, it seemed like several others were also receiving them, but he had got one, and that was the most important part.

He took it back to his desk, shoved the papers aside, and dug in.

Paradise.

Loki had never tasted a cinnamon roll before. Humankind had created such an incredible variety of pastries; it would probably take many years to sample them all. This was a good start. This was the best start!

He let himself melt away into silly little daydreams. Your flour-dusted apron, your shining eyes, your deft hands, kneading the dough. Wiping your face, smearing your cheek with flour.

Himself reaching out to wipe it away. You leaning into the touch instead of shying away. You don't hate him. You make him cinnamon rolls.

Loki was brought back from his lovely reverie, by an insistent knocking. With an irritated sigh, he rose, and found Andsvarr at the door, with a wide-eyed young child.

“Your Highness, she says that-”

The child began babbling, and all Loki could really make out was that you had been struck by Stormbreaker out on the Valkyries field, and now you could not get up.

He dashed down the hall at a dead sprint, not caring who might see. Stormbreaker weighed around ninety pounds. It was solid uru and living wood, nearly always charged with electricity. There was no angle on the thing that wasn't deadly.

Would he actually feel it, if you died? Would the rune flare, or fade, would he feel pain, or a sudden emptiness? Or would he be unaware, until someone like that child back there informed him?

He did feel a tugging on the mark, as he approached, gravel crunching and flying under his boots. Brunnhilde and his brother were kneeling in the field, while the trainee Valkyries huddled at a distance.

What nightmare awaited him? A crushed or mangled corpse? Was he to lose you now, after everything? After surviving an assassination attempt, did you now fall to an accident? Was there to be no reconciliation, the half-eaten cinnamon roll your parting gift to him?

The knot tightened in his chest with every speedy step. Thor and Brunnhilde moved away at his approach, leaving him to kneel next to you. You were shivering violently, and he nearly collapsed onto the ground next to you in sheer relief. Shivering meant life!

He gathered you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. The Valkyries were watching, but he didn't care. All of Asgard could see, and he would not care. As your shivering subsided, he felt the satisfaction of a purpose fulfilled, a service that only he could provide. You sighed softly, delivered from the discomfort of magic fatigue.

“Thor...”Loki growled. Thor made a nervous noise and glanced at Brunnhilde, who answered with a look that said he was on his own.

“You hit her with Stormbreaker?” Loki accused. “What in the soaring, glacial hel were you thinking? You can't swing that thing at mortals!”

“I didn't!” Thor defended. “I absolutely didn't! I would never!”

“The child said you did!”

“Valda may have been mistaken.” Brunnhilde cut in. “I should have sent someone older. He's right, he did not swing at her. Use your head now, you can tell he's not lying!”

Loki harrumphed and turned away from them both. Yes, he could tell. But this had left him agitated, defensive, like a ruffled rooster.

You cracked your eyes open to gaze tiredly up at him. “I did it.” You whispered. “I did the magic all on my own. I'm...seidkona...” You yawned wide.

“You did? Is that what happened?”

“Yes.” Thor said, smiling fondly. “Stole it from my grasp and brought it right to herself. It was too heavy for her to hold, though, and it knocked her down.”

Loki stood, lifting you easily in his arms. “You shouldn't be out here in the dirt. I will take you somewhere better. I've...Well, I've redecorated your room. Would you, perhaps, like to go there? I can also take you to Bjarkhild, or back to the Valkyrie's barracks, or wherever you would like, of course.”

“Redecorated?”

“Yes. Would you like to see? I've wanted to get your opinion on it. It's not quite finished, but we've got all the basics laid out.”

“I'd like to see.” You agreed. “I don't think I'll be walking around much more today.”

He didn't bother trying to hold back his smile. “Then let me see to your needs today. In exchange for the gift you gave earlier.”

“You got the cinnamon roll?”

“Is that what it's called? Such a simple name for such blessed ambrosia.”

“Oh, you don't have to...It's just a simple recipe my Nana taught me...”

Loki could practically feel the heat radiating off your face. Was that all it took to make you show him that adorable flustered expression? Just flowery compliments? If he'd known that, he would have taken a different approach.

He headed off the training field. Aides and secretaries approached, but seemed to unanimously decide to present their business at a later time, leaving him free to carry you back to your room. You hardly recognized it. There was color. Blue, and green, and gold, and silver, predominantly, with the bed in a warm terra cotta. That bed looked so soft and inviting now, with it's fluffy pillows and heavy comforter.

Loki sat you down on it, and you wiggled your way slowly under the blankets.

“Will you tell me about this Nana, of yours, who taught you the mystical art of the cinnamon roll?”

“Wow, you really liked it, huh? Well, Nana wasn't really my Nana, she was my aunt. Mom died when I was still a baby, and Beth was my aunt. She always wore yellow, so when I was a little kid I tried to call her Banana Beth, but it just came out Nana Beth. She taught me how to bake. She wanted kids, but she thought it was better that she didn't have any...Um. I should tell you, there's a medical condition that runs in my mom's side of the family. I might die early.”

Loki took your hand. “Not while I breathe.”

“Ah, um.” Your gaze fell. “It's not that simple. It's brain stuff, there's not much that can be done about it.”

He placed his other hand over the top of yours, forming a little shell of sincerity and reassurance. “I promise you that we can. We have the knowledge, we have the technique. Put that fear to rest. You will not die of any tumor. I will not allow it.”

“You can just...decide that.”

“Yes.”He assured you. “I can.”

“Well...that's...um. Ok.”

The face you wore now was less embarrassed, but no less adorable.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Like I bench-pressed an elephant. My arms feel so heavy; my whole body does. I know I'm gonna have a bruise. What is that thing made of anyway?”

“Stormbreaker? It's made from uru.” Upon your stumped expression, he held up the illusion of a lump of metallic stone. “It's a very rare metal, very hard to find and even harder to work with. There is none naturally occurring on Earth, and unlike nornbein, it cannot even be artificially created here. It comes from stars that have destroyed themselves by becoming supernovas. Hence it's rarity. Not many stars do that, and some of those that do, then go on to become black holes, which consume all the uru. Thus, we must find stars that have exploded powerfully enough to create uru, but not so powerfully as to swallow it all. And of those, some form nebulae, and new planetary systems, all of which are difficult to navigate, especially when one is looking for lumps of metal that can be of any size, and separated by millions of miles. Mjolnir was made of uru as well, and my father's spear, then gilded in nornbein.”

“The hammer? Whatever happened to that?”

“Eh, I'll show you later if you'd like. There is a hall we have set aside for Asgardian history, and there are several things resting there that I might show you.”

“I think I'd like to. It would be good to know more history. I mean, I guess that's going to be expected of me now. How do you work with uru, if it's so hard? Special forges?”

Loki smiled. “Oh yes. The most special of forges, unlike any others. Behold, Nidavellir.”

The image formed in his palms, cradled like a pearl.

You leaned forward to get a better look at the illusion. There was a strange light, and an even stranger ring-shaped structure surrounding it.

“Is...is that a star?” You asked, pointing at the little light pulsing slightly in the center. Loki nodded. “How?” You exclaimed. “That space station or whatever would have to be gigantic! Like, beyond reason!”

“Oh, no no. This is a neutron star. It's what you get when a collapsing star is too big to make a white dwarf, but still too small to create a black hole.” Loki explained. “This one is about the size of one of your larger cities. This ring is rather like the outlying suburbs that surround your cities. So yes, the structure is impressively large, but not quite to the degree you are imagining. This was the last of the eight realms to be added to the count, discovered by my father shortly into his reign. Being so small, neutron stars are not so easy to locate, though it does seem that even human technology has been able roughly estimate where some are.

But when Odin found this one, when he realized what he was looking at, he refused to attempt to conquer them through any violent means. Though there were protests, he could not bring himself to destroy even one member of a race capable of such craftsmanship. This star created the largest amount of uru in all of Yggdrasil, and the entire ring is made of it. The Dvergar that live within it have plenty more stored away as well. They are the only people we know of that can smith the metal.”

“Why?” You asked. “What's so different about the way do it?”

“For one thing, they have a resource that no one else does. They use the star to power everything. The radiation of a neutron star is enough to melt uru for forging. They are also the only people who can withstand that radiation themselves. Someone like myself could not stay for long on Nidavellir. Perhaps only to make an order, or to pick it up. And as for you...well, unfortunately this is another realm I can never take you to see. You'd burn in minutes.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. No thanks. So how did they become one of your realms, if they were never conquered?” You asked. Loki couldn't help but notice the disapproval you placed on the last word. He understood that you found the concept distasteful, but didn't quite understand why. The entire history of your species was one of conquest. Not a single tribe or clan in all of human history was innocent of it.

But there must always be those who try, mustn't there? There must always be those who think and act differently. There must always be a new way. That was the kind of thing that resonated with him.

“Through trade and treaty. We could offer them things they could not get on their own, such as other kinds of metal, not native to the system, and also safe escort to other worlds.” At the inquisitive tilting of your head, he continued. “The Dvergar never managed more than very local space travel, just enough to sweep their system for all the materials it held. Mostly, they had uru, iron, and nickel. That was pretty much it. We brought in metals that, to them, were bizarre and exotic. They loved it! We also provided transport to other worlds, and kept them safe until they went home. You might well imagine that there were plenty of people out there who wanted their own, private, uru-smith, or who wanted to destroy the workers of the metal, so that it couldn't be used against them. And so, a Dvergar abroad is in danger all the time, and they are very limited in number.

So, often for only the price of the materials, they provided us with the finest metal crafts Yggdrasil has ever known. They created Stormbreaker and Mjolnir, my mother's sword and my fath-my spear. Several of my knives, and the enchanted berserker's staves. The Valkyries weapons as well, though only one of those is still extant. And that's just the weapons! We gave them silver, gold, and platinum, and they created the most exquisite artworks. We gave them copper and bronze, and they created the finest wire, the most delicate mechanisms.

Of course,” He said regretfully. “That treaty with them is now null. We can no longer provide them safe escort, or metals in any quantity, so I feel our usefulness to them is at an end. Even when we get the bifrost running, I know of nothing we can offer them that they would want.”

“It couldn't hurt to talk to them though.” You said. “Let them know how your circumstances have changed, and why. You lost your whole world after all, surely there can be some arrangements made. Especially if there's no bad history there.”

“Now that's what I like to see in a seidkona.” Loki praised gently. “Optimism, and a willing-to-try attitude. This is what we need in this time, in this place.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” You mumbled, looking shyly aside.

Oh yes, that was fun.

“How did they make it?” You asked. “The ring I mean.”

“From what they tell, they originally lived on the belt of asteroids that it has replaced. They built bridges linking the larger asteroids together, with their little, local ships, and gathered up the smaller ones as they went. And they just kept building, and gathering, and expanding, until they had an entirely enclosed ring around the star, built up out of the very asteroids that once orbited freely. Technically it is the asteroid belt, only now in the form of one of the most stable structures in the galaxy.”

“I'd like to meet one, someday.” You said idly.

“They are not a handsome people. Also secretive and quite brusque. If they truly evolved on the asteroids, and were separate most of the time, that only makes sense. There are only about thirteen-hundred of them in all, and though they can share a fierce camaraderie when a challenge is laid before them, they more often go for decades without seeing each other. Just working away at whatever project occupies their thoughts at the time. They, unique among all the eight realms, are not a social species. However,” Loki amended, thinking that perhaps he was painting the Dvergar in too negative a light. “They are the ultimate crafters, perhaps in all the universe. They do not know cruelty, or war, only creation. They are honorable people; a Dvergar will never go back on their word, nor ever present less that perfect craftsmanship for trade. And though they are short of speech, that does not mean they are impolite, or inhospitable. Just that they do not share personal information, and they do not waste words.”

You lay back against the pillows, and Loki let the little image dissipate. You looked tired. Perhaps he should let you sleep now, and make the room your own.

“You can use a spear?” You asked suddenly.

“What? Yes, I can. I am trained in the use of a variety of weapons. Most of us are; we simply have weapons that we prefer over others. I like the swiftness and precision of small blades, Thor prefers something heavy enough to destroy armor and knock foes down, and father preferred...distance.”

“And you inherited your father's spear? Is it just because the king doesn't like to use it?”

“Sort of. My brother bequeathed it to me in something of a ceremonial act. Every king since Buri has held that spear, but it was given to me in acknowledgment that I was king before Thor. Also that he intended to break certain traditions, and also because I use it better than he does.”

“Can I see your spear?”

Loki kept his face very carefully neutral. He definitely should not say that you already had, no, he should absolutely not say that. You were tired, and not thinking about your phrasing.

“Later, yes. It is being kept in the History Hall. I'll show you the whole thing. Who knows, perhaps someday you will find mention there. The first human member of the royal court. A bridge between us and Midgard, in this dawning of a new age...”

But you were already asleep.

“Oh. Well. Being the first of anything is always difficult.” Loki whispered, drawing the blankets up around your shoulders. “I know. It's confusing, and there are no instructions, no rules. You must make your own. Tomorrow.”

He left just as you began to softly snore.

                                                                     *****

You walked the road along the fields, whistling cheerily to yourself. Your garden hoe across your shoulders, a spade in your tool belt, and a song in your heart, you crossed over to an empty plot.

These were not the fields of home; there was no corn to be seen, and the white and purple flowers of Iceland dotted the verge. This was more of a community garden, and each plot bore strange plants, significant to the person who grew them.

You had no seeds, but intended to work the soil of your little plot, so that it would be ready whenever you got some.

You chopped at the soil with your hoe: how dry and hard it had become! How stony from neglect! Nothing had grown here for a long time, but soon it would. Just as soon as you had all the supplies...

You saw Loki approaching from a distance, resplendent in the heat shimmer, the eternal summer sun glinting off his fine armor, his gilded horns. In all his finery he came to you, and said nothing, just held out a handful of seeds. You did not recognize them, did not know what kind of plant would spring from them, but you decided to take a chance on them. You sprinkled them carefully over your plot, Loki standing silently at your side.

What would grow? What would it say about you? And would it be what you needed? Only time, care, and tending would tell.

You rolled over in your sleep and snuggled a pillow. You could almost smell the freshly turned earth.

[algernoninwonderland]

Miraculous, the Monster of the Week Format and the Status Quo, or Why Things Barely Change At All

TLDR; while the monster-of-the-week format doesn’t mean there is no overarching plot in Miraculous, these monsters are variable in terms of quality and the overarching plot itself is not something the show explores. 

The fact that you can watch 80% of the show in any order without feeling lost is quite telling: the goal is to have self-contained stories during the space of one episode, not to have things that happened in such and such episode have consequences in the following ones. Which is frustrating in the long run, even more so when the monster-of-the-week format doesn’t mean that episodes are aired weekly. 

It isn’t that the people working on Miraculous aren’t talented enough to write something good, simply that the format they have to work with makes the story what it is.

Now, if you want to read something a little more detailed, just click the thingy!

With now 64 episodes aired, it’s safe to say that Miraculous is a show that is meant to stay on our screens for quite some time. For exactly five seasons, so far. Yay! Or perhaps not?

With its reused villains (when you’ve got 2.0 in your title, that screams Electric Boogaloo, I’m sorry), its apparent lack of character development and little focus on the overarching plot (if there is any, at this point), it sounds like this is pretty much stretched out. 

The show has two focuses, so to say, our two cinnamon buns and their love story, and superhero stuffs with different villains in each episode (and that guy alone in his lair, and sometimes that woman with the fan but eeeeh, don’t sweat it, besides they’re interchangeable so far)

What do I mean by Monster-of-the-week format?

Exactly what the title says. For each week/episode, one villain. Who is defeated at the end of the week. Yay! The prime example of this is the original Scooby Doo cartoons, Scooby Doo, Where Are You!

Now, what do we think of that show? Other than the laugh tracks, it holds up well enough. More importantly, though, every story is self-contained, and the appeal of the Scooby Doo is its mysteries. We don’t care about Velma’s backstory, or how Fred became the leader, these characters have very little depth and that’s OK, their interactions is not the main point of the story.

Scooby Doo has a very simple formula: 

The gang goes somewhere, finds mystery, chase one, traps, chase two with a bubblegum pop soundtrack this time, then the mystery is solved, very basically. And we can move on to the next mystery

You can air any episode in any order, you can get the story without feeling lost.

And for most Miraculous episodes, it is true as well! They follow roughly the same recipe:

Something something civilian life, Hawk Moth akumatises someone, Superhero Time, Lucky Charm, Status Quo again.

The first episodes that aired never explained how Marinette got her Miraculous and… It didn’t seem to matter all that much?

But there’s a problem here. MLB isn’t just about Superhero Thingies™. We’ve got that Love Tesseract™ thing too. And a love story requires a progression and character growth to work. 

You can’t have a monster-of-the-week format if you try to explore things that are character-driven, unless there is a clear follow up, an overarching plot.

Like, say…

Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Utena is one of my favourite shows of all time, and I’m talking live action and animated. It is stylish, the writing is great, the direction work is awesome. It’s a masterpiece and for a show aired in 1997, it aged pretty well in the way it handles it themes. (some of the animation is wonky, though, characters are definitely not always on model, it’s not perfect but hey, 1997)

You should watch Utena. It’s available on Nozomi if you’re from Americaland, otherwise I’m sure you’ll find a way to stream it somewhere. Or buy the BluRay.

So, Utena has a “Duel of the Week” format, it follows a clear formula. And just like Miraculous, it recycles animation and some sentences are said at least once or twice per episode. Hell, Miraculous references Utena quite a few times (but I’ll make a post just for that).

Having a repetitive formula does not mean you cannot have a sense of progression. And Utena shines because of that. Things… Things have consequences, a duel leads to another because of reasons that become clear. It’s not a “we need that many episodes” thing, everything is needed, you cannot not watch an episode, even the recap ones, even the Nanami ones, especially the Nanami ones (Nanami who is a much better Chloé than Chloé is).

Unlike Miraculous, Utena has an overarching plot, you can’t play the episodes in any order. Repetitions and variations are meaningful in Utena, it is not simply a matter of style, or rather, style in Utena is meaningful, not only there for “the show”, a spectacle which in itself is meaningful too. Hell, everything in Utena is meaningful. Meaningful. Could you imagine that much meaning in Miraculous? Me neither.

But, you may say, you’re not fair; you’re comparing Miraculous, a show aimed at schoolchildren, with Utena, an anime aimed at an older audience.

And you wouldn’t be entirely wrong if you thought so. Which is why I’ll reiterate my point with a show for which Thomas Astruc himself worked.

Code Lyoko

Code Lyoko is super formulaic, replace Hawk Moth with XANA and superpowers with going inside a computer and that’s about it. It recycles a lot of its animation, the character design is… A bold choice. I barely watched it when I was younger though it was a pretty big thing for us Frenchies  (but hey it’s available on YouTube now in French so I binged the entire thing in a few days and while it’s not groundbreaking, it does some things really well)

Code Lyoko is all that, repetitions, terribly formulaic, XANA-tised person/plushie of the week thing with towers to deactivate and whatnot, and a “return to the past” to erase whatever has occurred during the episode. Literally. 

But. 

Once again, a visible overarching plot, and can you believe it, things have consequences. William is lost on Lyoko, and the kids spend episodes looking for him. There’s romance, and though it is dealt with clumsily, there’s a sense of progression to it. Things… Happen… With… Consequences.

Miraculous is, for the most part, an inconsequential show

Yeah, the problem with Miraculous is that its overarching plot is muddy and flimsy, the status quo is very much that, I’d argue that it’s a show in which nothing truly happens because nothing has consequences. I mean… Nino and Alya are dating, I guess? Adrien… Is still allergic to pigeon feathers? There are sometimes more than just two heroes? But it doesn’t really matter.

And Oblivio is the perfect example of that.

That’s the message of the episode. Even if we forget things, it still works, there is no need for memory, for remembering what has happened in all the previous episodes because we still make it work somehow. What happened before this episode does not matter to the story we are telling now.

The show keeps telling the same things about its characters, over and over, and whenever something new is introduced… Well it’s great but don’t expect to see it in the episodes after that one.

Which is why specials, story arcs which last two episodes, are good. There is room for developed character moments, interesting interactions, plot, sometimes good fights too. Chloé shines in Queen’s Battle, “Origins” is, for me, probably the best bunch of episodes in the entire show so far because things happen and we can see change happening. Like, actual change. Characters who learn how to do stuff, whose interactions with one another changes over the course of these two episodes. 

Outside of this however… Here, have that very important book, we’ll see it in one or two episodes because we need a macguffin and voilà. Here, have new heroes, but don’t expect to see them after that episode, unless we need a real showdown. 

It’s hard to get hyped by Jeremy Zag’s posts, because no matter how cool Dragon!Kagami looks, because of that format of self-contained stories with the only connection being them being the same static characters. Kagami with a Kwami? Eh. It’ll be a one-off thing, sure it’ll be cool but to make the plot move on… Don’t sweat it. 

Speaking of Kagami, she is presented the exact same way in Frozer and Selfinsertepisode Animaestro, nothing has changed about the character, don’t worry, she’s still going to be used the exact same way, perhaps we’ll show once again that she really cares for Adrien but hey, we already knew that, there’s nothing new in Onichan. And that is symptomatic of the entire cast.

Is that format something the creators of the show absolutely wanted? Is near-stagnation what they wished for? Let’s decide it’s not their choice, and that they try their best with the limitations they have.

Would these flaws be this glaring if new episodes were aired weekly? Like, say, air three episodes during three weeks, a break and then some new episodes again? I think not. The wait and the lack of follow-up from one episode to the next makes them really noticeable, and watching them feels unfulfilling.

So that airing schedule I just suggested? That’s not how things work, that’s not how television works apparently and there’s nothing the people who work on Miraculous can ask about it. Thomas Astruc doesn’t know when the episodes will air, blah blah blah. Television networks not really caring about the shows they air? Never heard of that before, huh. SU

So I guess this is it, then. I hope you enjoyed this overlong post!

(shameful self-promotion moment, but about Kagami, I wrote a Kagaminette/Marigami fic, it’s 80,000 words so far and I update it on Mondays so give it a look if you want! It’s here.)

[downstvged]

s u r v e y  :    p e y t o n    p e l l e g r i n o.

what’s this? there’s something paper clipped to the page... a stick of juicy fruit. how thoughtful.

basic information

FULL NAME: jamie claverton  peyton pellegrino PRONUNCIATION: PAY-ton pell-eh-GREEN-oh MEANING: noble, royal REASONING: his kidnapper father said he always looked like a peyton. strong, wise, dignified. NICKNAME(S): pey, pellegrino, pillsbury ( monty ), sparkles ( tess ), etc. PREFERRED NAME(S): peyton BIRTH DATE: july 24, 2000 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: leo GENDER: cismale PRONOUNS:  he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  heteroromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual NATIONALITY:  american. ETHNICITY: italian-american. his father’s got pellegrino pride.

background

BIRTH PLACE: milton, delaware  HOMETOWN:  milton, delaware.  his dad said he was born in ohio. everyone thinks he’s from cali, when they meet him. SOCIAL CLASS:  upper-middle. FATHER: presley claverton. matthew pellegrino. fire chief. 52. west ham’s most eligible and charming single father. and peyton’s best friend. faceclaim. MOTHER: theresa claverton.  francesca milluzzo. peyton never knew her. his dad said she deserted them shortly before his first birthday. SIBLING(S): none. BIRTH ORDER: first of three. the clavertons needed to fill the void. first and only. PET(S): none. but he adores anything fluffy. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES:  n/a PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: n/a. he’s always been too scared of his own shadow to ask a girl out. ARRESTS?: squeaky clean. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count double-shifts delivering pizzas.

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: works part-time as a pizza delivery boy at one of west ham’s most beloved pizza joints. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: very content, usually! people tip well and peyton enjoys the small talk. PAST JOB(S): assistant life guarding at the local pool in middle school, but that quickly ended after he had a panic attack on duty. SPENDING HABITS: peyton’s pretty frugal! his idea of a fun time is boarding around town with monty, or grabbing a scoop of ice cream at one of the local places. he’s not too big on driving, if he doesn’t have to. longboards almost everywhere. his dad’s job gets them ample cash, being fire chief, but they live modestly. pellegrino men are humble. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his longboard. unfortunately, his anti-anxiety meds.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: deduction, longboarding, mock trial, stage lighting, studying, making people smile. he’s mario kart champion and he’ll never live that down. SHORTCOMINGS: overthinker. often, he limits himself just by thinking in circles. he... finds the good in people. assumes the best. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, and enough italian to get friendly with the kitchen staff. DRIVE?:  yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes, but longboards are way better. SWIM?: yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: he has a guitar and plays it decently well. sometimes he’ll hum a little tune and strum a few chords, but it’s nothing too major. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. BRAID HAIR?: ha! him? able to braid hair? he wishes. TIE A TIE?: he can double-knot his shoes. PICK A LOCK?: no.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: noah centineo. EYE COLOR: deep hazel, primarily chocolate with pools of mossy green. HAIR COLOR: dark brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: wavy/curly. it does what it wants, and he rarely styles it, unless it’s for a mock trial competition or a student gov event. reference. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he has a glasses prescription but always wears his contacts. DOMINANT HAND: right. HEIGHT: 6′1. WEIGHT: 165 lbs. BUILD: lean, trim, athletic. EXERCISE HABITS: he’s co-captain of the lacrosse team with monty, so they have daily team workouts. he goes for runs a lot, and likes HIIT training. does longboarding count? it should. he’s boarded all over this town countless times ( it’s also how he chooses to deliver pizzas, when the weather’s alright. ) SKIN TONE: tanned, smooth. reference. TATTOOS: none. he can’t handle needles. PEIRCINGS: none. MARKS/SCARS: a few on his arms and legs from nasty longboarding falls. NOTABLE FEATURES: his wild hair. million-watt smile. USUAL EXPRESSION: peaceful, welcoming. CLOTHING STYLE: reference.  leather bracelets, cuffed jeans, lots of solid colored and colorblocked tees. when he dresses up for mock trial, the girls kinda swoon. boy looks dashing in a suit. has a glasses prescription but always wears contacts. his dad says he looks sharper that way ( but it’s actually because, with glasses, he looks too similar to the claverton family. )  beat up chuck taylors, kind of untied on purpose. he’s got that whole loosely kept together, sleep deprived look down pat. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. sometimes he���ll wear a thin chain. ALLERGIES: n/a. BODY TEMPERATURE: the standard. he runs a little warmer than most. DIET: lots of pizza. mountain dew. juicy fruit gum’s basically a whole other food group. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: n/a. he can be a bit jumpy, sometimes, if he’s feeling on edge. his left pinky kind of clicks funny when he makes a fist, from when he broke his hand his freshman year.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good. TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic. ELEMENT: earth. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: anxiety disorder. SOCIABILITY: very approachable. warm. kindhearted. there’s a reason he’s the one tasked with getting class dues, as class treasurer. there’s a reason why he leads the lacrosse team. EMOTIONAL STABILITY:  typically very levelheaded. his anxiety can make that fluctuate, though. PHOBIA(S): having another panic attack in public. he hasn’t had one in front of anyone besides monty in a year. ADDICTION(S): does juicy fruit qualify? DRUG USE: none. very straight-edge.  ALCOHOL USE:  occasional, as much as you’d expect. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not at all.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: peyton shoves his hands into his pockets when he’s nervous. he always looks for monty or tess in a crowded room, to get grounded. whenever he wears a flannel or a sweatshirt, he always pushes the sleeves up midway to his elbows. HOBBIES: lacrosse, longboarding, mock trial, reading, parkour ( a phase in freshman year ). watching football games with his dad. trying out weird recipes. HABITS: biting the edge of pens. turning his head to the side when he’s listening. offering people pieces of his lunch until he realizes there’s nothing left for him. NERVOUS TICKS: not knowing what to do with his hands. trailing off. looking at the ground. laughing. counting his own fingers. biting the tip of his tongue. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: he genuinely wants to see people happy. he wants everything to run smoothly and willingly along.  FEARS: his meds will stop working. he’ll have a panic attack in front of his classmates, who are supposed to see him as calm, collected, put together. he’ll never get to know more about his mom. it bugs him. POSITIVE TRAITS: benevolent, bona fide, conscientious, suave, tenderhearted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: anxious, critical, restless, self-limiting, yielding. SENSE OF HUMOR: puns. wit. a lot of inside jokes with tess and monty. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: not really! he’s more likely to say frick or flipping than anything bad. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ oh shit ! ” & “ dude ! ” & “ what’s good ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: longboarding, hands down. ANIMAL: he’s got a super soft spot for rabbits. BEVERAGE: mountain dew or 7-up. BOOK: growing up, he loved the percy jackson series. CELEBRITY: stephen hawking. COLOR: green. DESIGNER: designer? he guesses, like... is gucci the right answer? he’s not really plugged in to that. FOOD: does juicy fruit count? FLOWER: he’s learning more about flowers, but he thinks sunflowers are pretty nice. kelly’s teaching him more about those. GEM: tiger’s eye. HOLIDAY: christmas. that’s when the famous pellegrino slutty brownies surface. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: longboarding !! MOVIE: original star trek. MUSICAL ARTIST: saint motel. QUOTE/SAYING: “ we’re dead !  we survived but we’re dead ! ” – dash, the incredibles. SCENERY: rolling hills. sunset. SCENT: cinnamon. SPORT: lacrosse. SPORTS TEAM: in connecticut, he’s surprised he hasn’t been vilified for being a chicago bears fan. but he and his dad spent some time there, and going to those games became a weekly tradition. they watch them now, and it’s like a little piece of their story. TELEVISION SHOW: saturday night live, honestly. WEATHER: that golden-hour sunshine, just before sunset. lukewarm. mid-60′s. VACATION DESTINATION: hawaii. he’s always wanted to longboard down those colossal volcano-side roads.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: go into tech/lighting design for broadway. ask cassandra pressman out, for real. GREATEST FEAR: his dad won’t be able to function without him in west ham next fall. he’ll panic in front of people when he needs to seem strong. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with his squad, the belugas. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: he’s allowed the time to overthink. when his dad doesn’t come home from his fire shift on time. when things don’t feel right. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: the west ham mock trial team won the state championship this spring. BIGGEST REGRET: he never pressured his dad more about finding his mother. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he had a panic attack in the middle of his treasurer speech freshman year. someone pulled the fire alarm right as he couldn’t breathe. to this day, peyton has no idea who that was, but he’s so friggin’ thankful. BIGGEST SECRET: his biggest secret’s not even known to him yet. matthew pellegrino isn’t his father; he’s his kidnapper. peyton pellegrino’s fake. doesn’t exist. TOP PRIORITIES: having monty and tess’s backs. taking care of his dad, since he’s still reeling from peyton’s mom leaving almost 17 years ago. bringing the lacrosse team to the state championships. making sure every single thing he does for west ham high’s theatre department is flawless: making art on that stage. finding out how to... conquer this anxiety. finding out how to muster up enough courage to make a move before it’s too late.

[little-fandom]

The Full Christmas Experience

Magnus and Alec want to make Christmas magical for their sons. They’re not going to deny them any of the festive traditions, and when it comes to baking the gingerbreads, Alec insist on them to do it without any help of magic. To enjoy the Christmas experience in full.

Turns out, Christmas can be magical without the help of Warlock’s magic.

Or, Christmas baking with the Lightwood-Bane family.

read on ao3

Magnus sighs with a content smile as he watches Max and Rafe running around the loft. Sometimes, especially in just simple, normal moments like this, it’s hard for his mind to grasp that he actually gets to have this. Have a family with the love of his life and just enjoy the simplicity of it.

“Okay, boys!” He calls out, rubbing his hands together. “Dad’s gonna be back soon, so stop running around and come help me prepare the kitchen.” He orders gently, to which Max whines.

“But papa, you can just snap your fingers and it’ll be ready!”

Rafael chuckles at his brother’s words and Magnus lets out a groan. They really need to work on Max’s dependence on his magic, so he won’t just use it every time he has to do something he doesn’t like. Being only six years old, he quickly starts to pick up on simple spells that Magnus often uses. One day he even managed to summon some toys from his room to the living room.

Magnus truly fears the day he learns to create portals.

“No, he can’t.” Alec’s voice sounds from the doorway and they all turn, Max and Rafael running towards him, as he drops the shopping bags on the floor and squats, opening his arms to hug his children. He drops kisses on top of both of their heads as Max clings onto his neck, so standing up Alec brings the little Warlock with him, holding him up with on arm. He smiles down at Rafael, ruffling his hair to which he giggles.

And Magnus just stands enchanted, watching this beautiful scene he saw so many times before, but he’ll never get bored of it. Then, his fiancé finally makes his way to him, and kisses him lightly on the lips, still holding their son in his arms. Magnus can’t help but smile.

“Why can’t papa use magic, daddy?” Max asks then, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“Because,” Alec begins to explain, addressing his whole family. “Tonight, there’s one rule: no magic,” He looks at Magnus, receiving a nod at the statement and then continues, “no runes.” His gaze switches to Rafe and the boy nods too, even if looking a bit confused. “Just normal Christmas baking.” Alec states casually with a shrug.

Max whines again, which earns him a laugh from the rest.

“But why?” The Warlock pouts. “It would be easier!”

“Do you want it to be easy?” Alec asks looking at his son. “Or, do you want it to be fun?” He taps his finger on Max’s nose and the boy giggles.

“Max just wants to eat all the cookies already.” Rafe states with a grin and they all laugh again.

Rafael has been with them for almost two years now, and both Alec and Magnus couldn’t be happier with how he has adjusted to the family. How comfortable he is around them. Considering Rafael’s childhood back in Buenos Aires, the fathers made it their personal mission to show him how cared and loved he is by them with every little thing they do. To provide him with everything he needs, so he would never thought that they would ever deny him anything.

“All right, boys.” Alec begins as he puts Max back down on the floor. “Go get these to the kitchen.” He points at the bags full of all the ingredients they will need tonight, for their gingerbreads. “We’ll join you in a minute.”

The boys quickly obey, and when they’re out of the room, Alec brings Magnus closer, wrapping his arms around his fiancé’s waist and kissing him deeply.

Soon, they both smile into the kiss and when they part, leaving only a few inches of space between them, Magnus asks.

“How was work?”

“Tough.” Alec replies honestly, letting out a long sigh. “But let’s not talk about it tonight. I just want to enjoy some time doing Christmas baking with my beautiful family.”

It’s been hard for Alec recently, since he’s still preparing to face the Clave on a trail about getting Downworlders and Shadowhunters a right to marry. They’ve been engaged for a year now, and Alexander has begun his arrangements to this trail right after that. Still, there’s a long way ahead, but with his family’s support, there’s no way he won’t make it.

“Couldn’t agree more, angel.” Magnus approves with a kiss to Alec’s cheek.  

His fiancé just smiles back at him, but then he asks.

“Okay, but have you ever actually done that?”

Magnus just raises a quizzical brow at him, feeling slightly confused.

“The baking, I mean.” Alec explains.

“Sure, darling. Lots of times.” Magnus’ voice sounds just a tad bit too high, but of course Alec picks up on it.

“You just always used magic, right?” He resolves with an annoyed expression. Alec doesn’t like when he uses magic on everything. Seems not only Max has a problem with that. But Alexander can’t change the time before they met, and Magnus admits, that after getting together with him, he became a bit less dependent on his magic. Sure, he still uses it. Constantly. But such things as making breakfast, or cooking dinner, doing shopping… he finds joy in those things, when he gets to do them besides Alexander.

“Oh, you’re to one to talk!” Magnus just mocks, which basically confirms Alec’s words. “Have you ever done that?”

“A few times.” Alec shrugs. “Back in Idris, when I was really young. Shadowhunters don’t really celebrate Christmas all that much.”

Magnus nods understandingly, but his arms tighten a bit around Alec. It’s truly sad for him, that Alexander hadn’t really experience the Christmas magic as a child. Magnus actually hadn’t either, but Alec has always had a family he could do that with. Shadowhunters are truly interesting creatures…

“But, that’s just one more reason, why we should enjoy our Christmas experience in full tonight.” Alec states then, as if reading Magnus’ mind.

If they both hadn’t had this when they were children, then they need to make sure their sons will have to most marvellous and incredible Christmas of all times. This time of the year is just magical, and they both want for Max and Rafe to feel it every year. Last Christmas Rafael was still getting accustomed to the family, so he felt a bit overwhelmed with this whole thing. This year, however is much better, so they can actually engage with all the festive stuff they missed out on the last time.

“You’re right.” Magnus simply resorts with a quick peck on Alec’s lips to which he smiles and nods. “Let’s get started then.”

 You can just feel the Christmas spirit in the loft. Magnus made sure of that. There’s a huge Christmas tree in a living room, that they decorated only a few days ago. The balcony, even though it’s freezing and no one will dare to step outside, is decorated with lots of fairly lights, a mistletoe is hanging in the hall, right before the front door, which Magnus always uses when Alec enters the apartment. Look, a mistletoe, what a funny coincidence, Magnus says then and Alec rolls his eyes. Like he would ever try to find an excuse to kiss him. Alec doesn’t need mistletoe for that.

There are just more garlands of lights draped up around the whole loft. There’s even a small Christmas tree in their bedroom, on Magnus’ desk. Christmas stockings are hanging on the walls, along some decorations that the boys made themselves. And there’s this scent, the pine mixed with oranges, cinnamon and cloves… it just feels warm. It’s perfect. Alec knew his fiancé has a thing for redecorating, but with this, he has truly outdone himself.

The kitchen is not different. There are oranges with cloves set around the counter and a kitchen table. There is Christmas headdress with a candle in the middle of it. Alec finds himself actually admiring it all just now, since this week as been hectic at the Institute. He had been coming back home late, in fact only seeing his family briefly in the mornings, plus Magnus at night, when he crawled up into their bed. He’s glad to finally let go, and enjoy some quality time with his family.

The boys are putting all the ingredients on the counter. With no magic or runes, as promised. Max is standing on a stool, since he’s still a bit too short to reach it. Rafael pulls out the bowl, spoons and the rest of equipment they will need.

“What now?” Max beams enthusiastically as they’re both done with the preparations.

“First, we need to make the dough.” Alec states and reaches with his hand to his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and waving it in the air. “Grandma gave me our family recipe.”

So they starts. Putting all the ingredients in a bowl, with the boys bickering about who wants to add which one. Soon they’re all partly covered in flour, some eggs land on the floor, but it’s not like Alec, nor Magnus cares. It’s fun, that’s all that matters.

“What are you the most excited about Christmas this year?” Magnus asks them all, standing next to Alec who’s currently kneading the dough.

“The presents! And the Santa Claus to come!” Max shrieks and grins form his spot, as he’s sitting on the counter on Alec’s left, dangling his legs.

“That was expected.” Alec just shrugs turning to Magnus who chuckles briefly. “What about you, Rafe?”

“This is fun.” The boy states as he’s watching Alec’s movements precisely, leaning against the counter. “Decorating the tree was awesome too.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this, mijo.” Magnus kisses Rafael’s hair gently, to which the Shadowhunter blushes slightly.

“What about you?” He asks then.

“What about us?” Magnus prompts, running a hand through his son’s hair.

“What are you the most excited about.?” His sight hoovers from Alec to Magnus, clearly addressing the question to them.

Magnus seems to think a little, so Alec decides to speak first.

“Just spending some time with you.” He says softly. “I know I’ve been away a lot recently, and I really missed you guys.”

“We missed you too, daddy.” Max reaches with his hand and taps it lightly on Alec’s forearm, so the Shadowhunter leans in and places a kiss on his cheek.  

“But we get it.” Rafael nods and then adds. “Your work is important.”

Alec can’t help the smile creeping onto his face. His family is so understanding and sincere, but no matter what, he will do everything to be with them as much he can. He doesn’t want to become this kind of a father that his father was too him. He was still away at Clave’s meetings, or busy running the Institute and at some point Alec forgot how it feels to actually have a father. Family is more significant than any kind of work, and Alec thinks that maybe if his dad acknowledged it, things could have been completely different between them.

“I know.” He resorts, still smiling softy. “But you all are more important than that. You are the most important, ever.” He spots Magnus easily returning his smile and then he pushes away from the counter to stand behind Alec and wrap his arms around him, kissing his cheek.

“As you are for us, love.”

Alec feels his smile from widening, sometimes still finding it hard to believe, how he deserved such an amazing family.

“All right, it’s done.” He states a bit later, as he puts the dough on the counter and rolls it. Magnus moved to spread out all of the various shaped cutters around, and then the both step away from the counter, creating a space for the boys.

“We’ll let you do the fun stuff.” Magnus winks and their sons giggle as they get work on to cutting out the shapes from the dough.

“Just watch out for the sharp side of the cutters.” Alec warns. “We don’t want anyone to lose their fingers.” He adds in a lower voice to which Magnus chuckles. “Let’s make some icing.”

They move away a bit, still keeping an eye for the children. Alec does most of the work, since Magnus basically has no idea what to do.

“That’s what happens when you only use magic.” Alec teases as he stirs the icing in a bowl, wrapped in his fiancé’s arms again. “What would you do without me, huh?”

“I don’t think I ever want to find out.” Magnus answers in a light, playful tone, which is followed by yet another kiss to his cheek.

“Try this.” Alec turns in his arms, holding a spoon full of icing in front of him.

“It’s sweet.” Magnus states simply after getting a taste, and then his smile widens a bit. “But not as sweet as you.”

“You sap.” Alec laughs and spats him lightly on the arm, which only makes him hum.

“But I’m your sap.” Magnus resorts, and Alec just can’t resist the urge to kiss him. The Warlock seems to have the same idea, so they meet half-way, softly connecting their lips together.

“Papa why don’t we have a dog shaped cutter! I want to make one for uncle Luke!” Max yells from the other side of the kitchen, and they break their kiss chuckling.  

“Use the reindeer one.” Magnus replies. “I’m sure you can make it a dog somehow.”

Alec rolls his eyes, but laughs as they make their way back to join their sons.

 When the gingerbreads are in the oven, boys back in the living room watching some TV, Magnus and Alec clean up the kitchen a bit, and as Magnus puts out various sprinkles on the counter, his fiancé speaks, from where he’s seated on Max’s previous spot on the counter.

“What would you like to get for Christmas?”

Magnus thinks a little, trying to come up with some answer, but he decides to reply with another question.

“You’re saying, that you still haven’t got me anything?” He says in a teasing tone, as he turns to face him.

But Alec looks slightly guilty, as he doesn’t look back into Magnus’ eyes. His gaze is focused on his hands, as he’s playing with his engagement ring, twisting it around his finger.

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I-“ He attempts to explain himself, but Magnus swiftly interrupts, as he comes to stand in front of him.

“Alexander, there’s nothing to be sorry for, angel. There’s still a bit of time. Besides, I know how hard work has been recently. It’s a miracle you got some time to go shopping with me for the boys’ presents.” They bought them gifts a bit earlier, when one day Alec somehow got of the Institute at a reasonable hour. If they only knew how frantic it would become for Alexander later on…

Magnus gently sweeps his hands on Alec’s thighs, coming to stand between his legs. He then cups his fiancé’s face, and places a kiss on his lips, to which Alec finally looks up and smiles.

“I don’t really have any preferences.” Magnus shrugs lightly, answering Alec’s question. “As long as I get to spend Christmas with you, the boys, and the rest of our family, it’s enough.”

Alec nods, smiling wider as his hands wander to settle around Magnus’ neck.

“Yeah, that’ll be the best gift.” They kiss again, and when Magnus pulls away, he speaks.

“But actually, I already got you your present.”

“What is it?” Alec asks, truly curious.

“I’m not telling you Alexander, Santa Claus will resort if you’ve been good enough to get it.”

Alec laughs, the sound vibrating through Magnus’ chest as they’re pressed so close together. He places a kiss to Alec’s palm, as his hands wander to cup his face.

“Then, I hope he’ll consider me good.”

“I might have whispered him a thing, or two about you.” Magnus follows his words with another kiss to his mouth, and they both smile into it. Soon, Alec pulls away, creasing his fiancé’s cheeks lightly.

“We should check on the cookies.” He says as he hops down from the counter. “I don’t want your little make out session to ruin our hard work.”

“My make out session?” Magnus growls with faked offense, dramatically putting his palm on his heart. “May I remind you, that you were also a part of this?”

“I don’t recall.” Alec states teasingly, as he moves to the oven.

But Magnus quickly tugs at his hand, till he is pressed flush against his chest again and kisses him deeply, hooking his arms around Alec's neck to bring him even closer. 

“Does it ring a bell now?”

“It might.” Alec connects their lips again, and the stumble together to the oven. “Oh, I think I remember now.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, but can’t help the amused smile painting his face.

 Soon, the whole family is back in the kitchen, the boys standing at the counter, both amazed with the collection of sprinkles and icings their fathers had prepared.

Rafael takes the first gingerbread man and puts some blue icing on him, then he turns to his brother and says.

“Look Max, just like you!” He exclaims and they all a laugh.

Sometimes Magnus recalls the feeling he and Alec both had when they decided to take Rafe in. How scared they were of his reaction to Max. They were worried he might be terrified of the little Warlock, his growing horns, and blue skin. But of course, Rafael has surprised them. He never mention Max’s appearance in a bad way, never made fun of it, or was scared of it. Magnus’ hearts swells, of how much their sons have got along. All worries forgotten.

“I thinks he’s missing something.” He states as he leans in and places two chocolate chips at the gingerbread’s head, so they’re resembling Max’s horns.

The little Warlock beams again, as they place Ginger Max on a tray, claiming that he needs to be eaten the last.

So the production begins. There are more Ginger Maxes, angels, sparkling Christmas trees and a few of Santa Clauses. There’s even a reindeer that Max tries to transform into a wolf. Rafael draws a deflect rune on one of the gingerbread men, insisting that it’s Alec. Later following with another one, whose eyes are made of two drops of yellow icing. That one is Magnus. They even cleated Ginger Clary, with red icing resembling her hair, and Ginger Jace with blonde ones. After some time, the counter is spread with their little gingerbread family.

The boys hands are all covered in icing, and they end up smearing it onto their faces. Alec and Magnus are not left out of the attack and soon, the whole kitchen becomes a mess, with the family laughing in the middle of it.

“Okay,” Magnus starts as the laughter dies down. “I think we did quite a great job today.”

The rest nods in agreement.

“See, you can have fun without magic, Max.” Alec states, ruffling his younger son’s hair.

“It was so fun!” Max exclaims. “Now I want to eat the cookies!”

“Tomorrow, Blueberry.” Magnus resorts, to which Max pouts. “It’s too late now, and besides, the gingerbreads need to survive till Christmas eve. Some of them, at least.”

Max tries to whine, but it turns into yawn, only showing of how tired he is, and how late it has actually became now.

“What was your favourite part?” Alec asks the boys then.

“The decorating!” They both call out in the same time.

Magnus hums in answer and then he ushers the boys out of the kitchen.

“Go get cleaned up and get to beds.” He says. “Dad will come soon to read you a story.”

The boys are clearly too tired to object, as the adrenaline from the day seem to float out. They lazy nod and pad out of the kitchen, in the direction of the their bedrooms.

Magnus’s gaze lingers on them for a bit, and then he turns to Alec, who is wiping up the counter, where the icing has already dried out.

“Can I use magic now?” Magnus asks, trying to spear Alec all the hard work, but his fiancé just shakes his head.

“No. Full Christmas experience. Remember?”

“That also includes the cleaning?” Magnus questions, still hopeful a bit that it won’t.

Alec just gestures at the cloth in his hand.

“Well, what do you think?”

Magnus sighs, but comes closer to Alec, with an intention of helping him, but then he spots  a heart shaped gingerbread and grabs it from a tray on his way.

He stands in front of Alec, and when he looks up, Magnus gives him the cookie with a playful smile.

“What?” Alec asks, with a hint of laugh in his voice, accepting the cookie and clearly noticing the smirk on his fiancé’s face.

“Seems like I’m giving you my heart.” Magnus states and they both burst out into laughter again. Alec shakes his head at his antics, but can't help the amsued smile on his lips. 

“I think you did that some time ago.” He drops the cloth and pulls Magnus closer, with his arms around his waist. “And that you stole mine in process.”

Magnus chuckles and brushes Alec’s hair out of his forehead.

“You’ve got some icing here.” He sweeps his finger at the corner of Alexander’s mouth. Next he leans in and kisses the place lightly.

“Really?” Alec asks playfully when he pulls back to look at him.

“No, I just wanted to kiss you.” Magnus states with a shrug.

“Babe, you never need an excuse for that.” 

And when Alec connects their lips again, it’s barley a kiss, because their smiles are becoming too wide.

And even without any help of magic, Christmas has never felt more magical.

[writingnosefreak]

The Café test

I got tagged by @imaghostwriter. It took me pretty long to do this, for I've been busy with tests etc., but here it is. I'll do this with Cam, Emerald and Treasure, the three main characters of my wip, Tharaon's Mirror. :D

Did they get a cafe they liked? What kind of a cafe do they like? What does that say about their character?

Cam practically grew up at her dad's cafe in the ski center her family owns, so that's her all-time favourite. She used to work there part-time before getting her current job at an antique shop, and still helps out sometimes. Taught by her dad, she's an excellent baker.

Emerald used to love Cam's dad's cafe back when they were still best friends, but she hasn't gone near the ski centre since their rift. Nowadays, she likes going to beautifully decorated cafes where she can get special coffees.

Treasure likes the cafe of her university library, for the coffee is cheap but good and she can hang out there with her friends between lectures.

1. Where do they sit? (Near the door because there's an exit? Near the back to hide? Where it's shadowy? Where they'll be seen by a waiter? Lots of table space for writing/drawing/hands? Minimal space? Would they ever sit with others? What do these things say about their character?)

Cam likes to find either a booth or a corner table to sit in (at her dad's cafe, she has her favourite table in one of the corners). Cam feels comfortable in somewhat constrained spaces where she has more privacy than in the middle of the room. She likes to have company and rarely goes to cafes by herself.

Emerald likes to sit either by the window where she can look at people passing by or near the counter where it's easy for her to get the waiter's attention.

Treasure can usually be found at the largest table near the center or the room with a group of other students. Her table is most likely the loudest in the cafe and sometimes this results in complaints from other customers.

2. What do they order? (Is it sweet? Is it focused on hydration only? Is it expensive? ((Can they afford it if it is?)) Is it milky and warm? Is it to wake them up? To comfort them like a hot cocoa? Does it bring back memories? Do they get a drink connected to other people in their lives?)

Cam is a tea drinker. She tends to get obsessed with a certain kind of a tea for about a month, during which she orders it wherever she can until she comes to a point she cannot stand the taste of it anymore. After that, she just moves on to another kind of tea. At the moment, she's in the honeymoon phase with matcha latte.

Emerald loves exquisite and expensive coffee drinks. Until recently, she liked to end her morning run with a stop at some cafe in the city center to enjoy their special brew. When she doesn't feel like drinking coffee, she usually takes some kind of a smoothie.

Treasure usually gets either plain coffee or soda. She loves sodas with unusual tastes: lavender, dragonfruit, kiwi, anything that isn't basic. She is even known to have emptied a can of baked beans - flavoured soda without flinching.

3. If they get a snack, what do they get? (See above for similar questions to ask. Other good ones are: Are they allergic to anything? Do they have any health concerns? Do they have to worry about their digestion for any reason? Or is their stomach made of steel?)

Cam likes cinnamon buns, strawberry milkshakes and all kinds of pies. She has created a secret recipe for a blueberry pie she sometimes bakes for her dad's cafe.

Emerald rarely gets snacks at cafes, but when she does, it's usually a macaron. She has lactose intolerance, so she has to make sure everything she eats is lactose-free.

Treasure loves salty snacks, such as filled croissants and sandwiches. She also enjoys pretty much everything with chocolate in it.

4. How do they pay? (Are they rich? Poor? Do they count their pennies or do they throw a whole bunch of gold on the table? Or are they rich and stingy, countimg their pennies because that's how they got rich in the first place? Do they run out without paying? Do they not give a sh*t about the law? Are they desperate for a feed and want to pay but just can't?

Cam is by no means rich, but she has a steady job at the antique shop. Since she knows a lot about running a cafe, she knows to appreciate good products and service and won't fall for anything overpriced.

Having been rich all her life, Emerald isn't that careful about her money. If she wants to have something at a cafe, she'll get it without thinking twice.

Treasure wouldn't really need to worry about money any more than her sister, but her taste isn't really that expensive. Since most of her student friends are quite poor, she'd also feel somewhat awkward spending much more money than them on mere cafe products.

5. How do they interact with staff? (No eye contact? Lots of smiles? Friendly banter? Awkward conversation?)

Cam likes to chat with the staff whenever she goes to a cafe. She knows all the workers by names in the cafes she frequents and some of them like to tease her in a friendly way about her tea-drinking habits.

Emerald normally doesn't have any small talk with cafe workers, but she rewards good customer service by tipping well.

Treasure is polite to staff at cafes, but since she is usually a part of a noisy and lively group, she can be viewed by them as a troublemaker. The owner of the university library cafe theatens to kick her and her friends out of the cafe about once a week for being too loud.

This was the first tagging game I have ever taken part in with one of my wips. Thanks for tagging me. ^^ I'll tag @nerathul @lady-redshield-writes and @kittensartsbooks. No pressure to do this if you don't want to, but I'd love to see your answers. :)

[ineffablecolors]

I'm sending you 42. and 80. (because this gotta be funnnn) for the trope mash-up, but only as long as you don't forget that you also kinda promised to write the pregnant-neighbor-comes-begging-for-food thing. Because I won't forget about it. :)

The lovely @laschatzi is talking about this post. I cheated a little bit but I hope you’d like how because now we have

Hungry pregnant neighbour + The Big Damn Kiss + Green-Eyed Epiphany 

Family Recipe;  ~ 5, 500 words; FF.NET || AO3

previous: wilderness/survival + I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On &Detective AU  + Awful First Meeting

Killian is somewhatashamed to admit that he has become something of a take-out guy.

It’s just… it’s one ofthose things he never got back into after losing his hand. Like volleyball. Orplaying the guitar. Or arm wrestling Will. Or the black nail polish. Or goingto the beach. Or hitting on that cute girl at the bakery around the corner. Orgirls,period. Or basically anyone he didn’t already know before the accident.

But anyway. Cooking.He never got back into cooking. He was never all that good at it to begin withbut it gave him a funny sort of pride and he enjoyed it.

He enjoyed having togo to three different stores to manage to collect all the herbs and spices fora proper curry. And lying all his products out – basically filling everyavailable space and then having to push stuff around to have somewhere toactually cook. And chopping histomatoes really fine – concasse, was it? – and his onions not quite because hedid not enjoy crying over their massacred corpses. And – never to be revealedto another living soul – making a mini forest around his chopping board withthe broccoli and the cauliflower. And the whole kitchen smelling for two daysafter. And basically making a mess of every horizontal surface – and thevertical ones that one time when he was learning how to spin pizza dough.

Yeah, he enjoyed that.And then he didn’t. Couldn’t. Didn’t.

And now here he is,sipping his beer and scrolling down his take-out app as if he doesn’t knowhe’ll get the Chinese because he had pizza twice during the week and they’vetotally ruined the Mexican place and Liam says he is a masochist but he is nota ‘take-out sushi’ level of masochist.

He looks outside.Checks his watch. At least two more hours of solid daylight. He wasn’t evenhungry yet. He could get some tortilla chips to snack on while trying to see ifhis oven still works.

Really… what couldhappen?

///

Mrs Lucas has spoilther.

It is the only reasonEmma is even contemplating this. That and the fact that it smells really good.

And look here, Emma isnot one of those girls that needs to always get what she wants. She iscertainly not used to getting whatshe wants. It’s just… her baby doesn’t seem to have followed in her footsteps.

It might havesomething to do with said baby not even having feet to walk with yet. Or… shethinks – tries to remember what she’s been readying semi-obsessively and thenthrowing under the bed as if the books are judging her for her singleness andbrokenness and the general dinginess of her apartment – maybe it has feetalready?

They’re definitelyforming but definitely not usable hence no following in any footsteps anytimesoon. There. She’s leaving it at that. Maybe she’ll dig out that last book fromunder her bed tonight. After she has some dinner.

Which brings her rightback to the problem at hand.

She is pretty surethat 5C is one of those bachelors that live on beer, pizza and whatever elseyou can get delivered to your door; has a football or poker night with the guysevery month – see the football she is sure about ‘cause those walls are fuckingthin and those boys are fucking loud but she likes to imagine the pokeras well ever since she saw the guy in this super slick vest that she is sureonly people who can actually step into a casino and somehow manage to not look sleazy own; occasionally blaststoo loud music but not often enough to warrant a complaint; puts Netflix on loud enough and regularly enough that her brokeass is hoping she can keep up with the new season of Stranger Things simply bymoving her couch next to the wall his TV sits against; never brings girls backto his place.

Honestly, Emma is notjudging (or stalking – the walls are thin).She’d probably be giving 5C a run for his money on the easy single living, ifshe wasn’t pregnant and broke and grumpy half the time and hungry the otherhalf – which also makes her grumpy, and generally disillusioned with humanityand the world and the idea that one might actually be able to enjoy life andnot struggle through it at every step and did she mention broke? She is brokeand constantly hungry and constantly trying to fool her baby into thinking thathe likes overcooked pasta and whatever fruits are on sale this week.

He doesn’t. He likeswhatever 5C is cooking.

///

This was a disastrousidea. The kind of disastrous idea he hasn’t had since he was 4 years old andthought that if he puts snails on Liam’s bed they’d stay there and not like…make their way all over the room that Killianshared with Liam.

This is worse thansnails. This is a dozen utensils in the sink already – because of course hetosses a spoon in the sink the second after he has used it once, of course, why put it to the side and use it again when hehas to stir his unholy concoction, and half a dozen plates – one of those inpieces in a trash bag by the door because your one hand being a slippery one isnot the situation in which you want to be handling porcelain.

He has a sizeable cuton his big toe where he stepped on one of the pieces and his t-shirt issticking to his back from the effort of grinding bloody vegetable – Jesus, heused to run miles without breaking a sweat and now blasted carrots are gettingthe best of him, and all he has to show for all his work is what he hopes is apassable mince.

Now for the mash. Hestill has three limbs and 14 uninjured digits to go…

///

Look, Emma doesn’thave much but she has her pride, ok? And this kid growing inside her has madeher relinquish her hold on that enough to knock on Mrs Lucas’s door and ask herwhat it was she put in her cookies because apparently Emma – or someone else, was addicted to it nowand it was not cinnamon. And that hadtransitioned into Emma becoming almost a firm fixture at Granny’s on weekendsand then into Emma busting tables for a month until Granny gave her a nononsense look and told her she won’t be doing this in a few more months, andafter a week of asking and listening and string pulling and cookie bribing, shegot her a job at August’s bookstore even though he still grumbles that he doesn’tlike anyone else ordering his books.

And, yes, this allworked out pretty well but Mrs Lucas was the one that came to her door on her first week in thebuilding with a plate of those cookies that by this point Emma can barely lookat.

(It’s what she does.She falls in love with peanut butter and then eats so many PBJ sandwiches thatnow she almost gets sick at the mere sight of a jar on the counter. And shehears the The Kooks coming from 5C’s wall and goes on to listen to them onrepeat for two weeks. Mind you, not even everything but just Junk of the Heartbecause she is mental like that. And she starts Modern Family, when she stillhad a freaking Netflix account, and binges the whole damn thing in a couple ofweekends and a few late week nights.)

So, yeah, Emma mighthave some addictive tendencies – the legal kind, and some impulse controlissues.

But Emma would neveractually go to someone’s door – someone she has never exchanged a single wordwith despite sometimes hearing their voice float through her wall – and, yeah,he has a pretty voice but what’s that gonna do for her? shitty people can havegreat voices, she is sure – to ask them forthe love of all that is good and holy, what they are cooking because it smellsso fucking good and she has to know and she has to have something that at leastcomes close to it.

She’d never.

///

It’s in the oven. It’sover. Well, all he has to do now is make sure he doesn’t burn the damn thing toa crisp. But if he managed to put it together in the first place, for the firsttime tonight, Killian thinks he can maybe pull this off.

///

It got worse. Worse asin better. Fuck, it got so much better. And now her stomach is grumbling andshe has made for the door three times in the last five minutes and for thefirst time tonight Emma is coming to the horrible realization that she probablywon’t be able to survive this day with her dignity intact.

///

He is just about todig into his plate – fancy plate set and fancy napkins that he didn’t even knowhe owned and the second episode of American Gods queued up and-

There’s a knock on hisdoor.

Killian freezes withhis fork in the air, eyebrows bunching together. Who on earth? He knows hehasn’t invited any of the guys over and Liam knows better than to just drop infor an unexpected ‘we are going out and getting you someone to go home with’visit by this point.

He waits. Nothing.Maybe he imagined it?

///

“There, happy?”

Emma glances down ather slightly rounded stomach and tries on her best ‘mom look’. She thinksshe’ll definitely need to work on that one before the baby comes out because heis already too stubborn for her owngood.

She glances at thedoor with 5C on it one more time, raises her hand and then drops it again.

No. She knocked. Thisis a sign. For once the universe is sparing her the embarrassment and-

“Yes?”

No, of course, not.Why would the universe ever spare her anything?

///

She must be the onethat knocked. 5B. His sweatpants neighbour.

Killian tries not tofeel bad about the nickname. They’ve never been properly introduced and… well,he has mostly seen her back disappearing inside her apartment or her back goingdown the stairs with laundry or her back rushing below his window on a jog. Sohe’s never seen her in anything but sweatpants. He’s not judging. It’s just…the only thing he had to go on.

She is in sweatpantsnow as well but as he looks at her to ask what she needs, he is taken aback byher green eyes. He is taken aback by the sudden realization that his neighbouris this young and very pretty woman and her eyes are the kind of eyes you can’thelp but notice.

It’s… interesting. Hehas heard the soundtrack of her daily life through the wall they share for afew months now but somehow he never imagined the face and body that must gowith those sounds.

As he thinks his gazeslides down almost involuntary and he doesn’t know what catches his attentionmore: the fact that she is a few months pregnant or the fact that she came overbarefoot.

The latter is trulyendearing, the former a tad disheartening for some reason.

Not that he hasanything against kids. Or pregnant women. It’s just… it’s not every day yourealize your neighbour is a pretty girl about your age and currently standingat your doorstep. But he shouldn’t have just assumed and anyway he doesn’treally… that is… is she ever gonna say something?

///

“Lass?”

Emma shakes her head alittle and wants to slap herself back into reality. You know that space andtime continuum where she is not attaching thisman to every sound she has ever heard come through their wall.

(She is convinced heplays air guitar when blasting Bon Jovi hits and that his eyes blaze reallybright when he is swearing at something about “bloody this” and “bloody that”.)

“Umm, hi. Sorry. I…”

He raises an eyebrow.She doesn’t really appreciate the mix of amusement and expectation. Then again,she is standing on his doorstep. He probably has some right to expect anexplanation. Why on earth didn’t she rehearse what she’ll say if he opened thedoor?

“Did you needsomething?”

Fuck.

“I just… ummm, am I botheringyou?”

“Not at all, lass. But,to be frank, I’ll probably be more capable of answering truthfully, if you toldme what you are here for.”

The hell? Was hetalking like that on purpose?

“I-“

Come on, Emma, like aband aid, nowhere to go now unless you wanna be the weirdo asking for a cup offlour.

“What you arecooking?’

///

“Oh.”

Oh. Bloody hell.

Killian can feel hischeeks heating up and focuses half his attention on keeping his hand at hisside and not scratching his damn ear.

“I apologize. I didn’tconsider the smell might bother some-“

“No. No, no, no. Ilike it! So… I was wondering what it was.”

She likes it? Thattimid feeling of pride he felt when he took his dinner out of the over and it wasn’t burn to a crisp grows threetimes.

“It’s just ashepherd’s pie. Slightly altered recipe. My mum’s. Supposedly, probably muckedit up along the way and it’s twice altered now but yeah… Shepherd’s pie.”

“Oh.”

///

Great. She was hopingfor something along the lines of a lasagna. Then maaaybe she could’ve boughtsome frozen crappy version from the supermarket and tried to cheat her bodyinto thinking it was the real thing.

But no, of course,not. It had to be shepherd’s pie. Family recipe edition. Just her damn luck.

“Well, thanks. Andsorry! I was just… curious. Sorry to bother you.”

///

She turns to go andthis might have been the most bizarre conversation he’s had this month.Including that guy on the underground with the orange hair.

Did she just want toknow what the smell invading her home was? She did say she liked it. Maybe-

She is already half toher door so Killian just thinks to hell with it.

“Would you like some?”

He sees her stop deadin her tracks and cringes, hoping he isn’t now the biggest weirdo of her month.And not in a good way.

The blonde turnsaround and he knows the second he sees her face that she would indeed likesome. But Killian likes to think of himself as at least moderately intelligentso he keeps his smile to himself and instead prepares for the distrust in hereyes that is obviously warring with her appetite.

“Do you usually offerfood to unknown women who come knocking on your door?”

“I can’t say, you arethe first.”

He doesn’t actuallysee her cheeks change colour but then again he thinks it might be because shehas been blushing this entire time.

“I didn’t mean tobother-“

“It’s no bother, love.Truly. Now that I feel knowledgeable enough about your intensions to say so.”

She rolls her prettygreen eyes in a way that has his pulse speeding up a bit.

“Plus I just made adish more people share with a family of four. For myself. I think I can sparewhatever you can eat.”

It’s a gamble thatpays off when he sees her eyes blaze up and let’s himself grin at herteasingly.

“I’m sorry, was that achallenge to how much I can eat?”

He steps aside andwaves her in.

She only hesitates fora second.

///

OK, first of all, hisapartment is waaay better than hers like, both bigger and with more naturallight coming in but also simply more tidy and colour-coordinated. Also, ifpossible, it smells even better inside and Emma’s eyes immediately zero in onthe dish on the kitchen counter.

She hears 5C chucklebehind her and tries not to feel even more embarrassed. Her capacity for itmust be running out by this point. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a comment butjust moves around his kitchen island and takes out a plastic food container.IKEA guy. Cute.

It probably takes hera bit longer than it should – what with her still mostly trying to pretend sheis not hustling her nice and pretty neighbour for food – but eventually Emmanotices the peculiar way he moves around his kitchen and operates only with hisright hand. A quick inspection proves that it is because he simply has no leftone to assist him.

“No shit!”

The guy startles ather words and turns around and probably follows her gaze because in the nextmoment the limb is tucked slightly behind him and he is giving her a tensesmile.

“Shit, I’m afraid.”

She honest to Godcovers her mouth. Better late than never. Or not.

“Shit. I mean, sorry!Sorry. I wasn’t- I was just- you cook?!”

5C frowns at her as ifher person skills are something that would only befit a visiting alien. He’sgot her there.

“Sorry. Again. But,like, I can’t cook for shit even with two hands.”

To be fair, the crapproducts she can afford probably have something to do with it but Emma is gonnabe a single mom pretty soon and she is pretty sure that “to be fair”s won’t cutit when she has to cook for her kid.

But makes-food-that-smells-illegally-good-single-handedlyneighbour seems to relax a little.

Foot – partially outof mouth.

///

Killian tries to unbunchthe muscles in his neck and not keep his right side weirdly angled towards her.It’s fine. Really, it’s fine. She was bound to notice eventually.

“To be honest, this ismy first try in quite some time.”

“Seriously?”

“Indeed. So if you getfood poisoning or something, I’m not to be held accountable.”

The thought gives himpause and he turns to her with his eyebrows all drawn together and almostreluctant to hand her the container in his hand.

“Actually, are youallergic to anything? I mean… I don’t think there’s anything too weird in itand everything I used was fresh but-“

He can’t help butglance down at her stomach. Gods, she ispregnant, right? This will be just the kind of thing-

But the blonde’s handcomes up to her stomach and she smiles at him almost shyly and Killian breathesout a quiet sigh of relief.

“I’m sure it will befine. I mean, the things I’ve been feeding myself… I’m pretty sure someonemight get a bit of a shock from the home-cooked food but definitely not the badkind.”

He tries not tooveranalyze the “feeding myself” part and instead nods and finally hands thecontainer with half of his shepherd’s pie inside.

“Whoa. You really arechallenging me.”

He laughs and dips hishead to the side to admire the way her eyes widen a little.

“It should keep for acouple of days if you put it in the fridge. And you can always just feed it toSmee.”

“Smee?”

“Oh.”

His cold ring grazeshis earlobe and dammit, he forgot to watch out for the damn tick.

“I named the cat thatalways hangs around behind the building.”

“Oooh, ok. And hellno.”

She hugs the food toher chest almost protectively and Killian laughs again and bloody hell, is hecoming across too giggly or something? What else can he say? He-

“Well, I shouldprobably let you finally eat your dinner. Whatever you have left,” she beatshim to it and juts her thumb at the door and he can’t really do anything butnod.

///

She is alreadystepping outside, teeth embedded in her lip and what do you say to the cute neighbour that fed you dinner but not inthe date sense?

“Oh. I’m Emma, by theway. Emma Swan.”

His eyes light up andEmma finally gets to put a mark in the ‘didn’t fuck it up’ column.

“Pleasure to meet you,Swan. Killian Jones. Always at your service, though I must warn you, myculinary repertoire is quite limited.”

Killian Jones with thefancy words and delicious food. Fuck.

///

She uses her employeediscount on something other than baby books for the first time.

He finds the bookwaiting for him outside his door. The post-it note says “This is why peoplelike home-cooked food. Who knew.” And the book is Neil Gaiman’s Fragile Things and it takes him a momentto connect the dots and remember that he was watching Amarican Gods the othernight and, yeah, maybe it makes him feel kinda good that Emma Swan noticed andremembered that.

///

He tries some Mexicannext and it’s 100% because his favourite place has gone to crap and not at allbecause he once saw their delivery guy in front of 5B.

She opens the door andhis face is half-obscured by an IKEA container and he says it’s just a not sosubtle reminder that she hasn’t returned the other one yet and she pretends tobelieve him.

///

She reasons that youcan’t return food containers empty so she tries to bake muffins because muffinsare supposed to be easy.

He hears the firealarm and five second later he is banging on her door and having a veryflustered Emma Swan dragging him inside and pointing at her oven or what can beseen of it behind the cloud of smoke and explaining how it’s all his fault.

///

He’s been looking fora not food-related reason to knock on her door for a week and coming up emptyand he is damn rusty when it comes to talking to pretty girls but then againshe is pregnant and the fact that he didn’t see a naked man in the middle ofher kitchen the one time he was there for 10 minutes doesn’t mean anything somaybe that’s for the best.

She knocks on his doora day after Stranger Things comes out with three bags of popcorn, explainingthat only one of them is for him, obviously.

///

She lives to binge andyet here she is trying to stretch an 8-episode season over more than a week.

He honestly debatescalling Netflix and begging them to somehow somehowrelease more episodes of their damn show.

///

He has been thisscared exactly once in his entire life and that situation included headlightscoming straight at him.

She has a freakingstomach ache, probably from too much popcorn, and she is almost as embarrassedwhen she comes out of the doctor’s office as she was that first night sheknocked on his door but Killian doesn’t really seem to care how she is ok as long as she is.

///

She is scrollingthrough her Instagram at work and she is so bored and distracted that shealmost misses it but then she goes back and blinks and then goes to the accountto check this is not some sort of ridiculous surveillance thing or she doesn’teven know what – but sure enough, there – on @cutestparentstobe, is a pictureof her very pregnant self, eating ice-cream on the beach with one KillianJones.

He doesn’t know how heworms his way into a doctor’s appointment, he just knows that when the nursecalls him “daddy” Emma kinda sputters but doesn’t say anything to contradicther and he sure as hell keeps his trap shut and just smiles and nods when theygive him an ultrasound picture all for himself.

///

They’ve been doingwhatever they are doing for 4 freaking months and within the first couple ofweeks they were already using like only 30% of his couch for the both of themand in a month they started venturing outside the bubble of their apartmentsand Emma never thought she’d be thehand-holding type but yeah, they kinda hold hands all the time and they hug,like, every day and they text all the freaking time while they are at work andshe meets Liam when she is 7 months pregnant and convinced that he is gonnahate her on sight for saddling his little brother with herself and he doesn’treally but he also doesn’t seem to love her on sight and Killian is verypointedly unamused by the lukewarm reception but honestly, Emma is just glad tobe given a chance here, and he goes shopping for baby stuff she can barelyafford with her and then he goes shopping for baby stuff by himself and shegets kinda angry and they kinda break up or whatever at least twice, basicallyeach time Emma decides that this is ridiculous and he can’t just date a girlthat is having another guy’s baby and that’s twice the size she should be andthat he’s only known for a few months and one night Killian lines up fourfreaking shepherd’s pies outside her door and if she even keeps her door closedto that then she must be dead inthere and one night he lets it slip about these therapy sessions that he issupposed to go to but doesn’t and she basically makes an appointment for himand drags him out of the door and maybe threatens him with not coming to herdoctor’s appointments anymore, if he doesn’t go to his.

And through all that and then some, they never actuallykiss.

Sure he kisses hercheek when he wishes her goodnight and she kisses his head when he falls asleepon her during Lord of the Rings and he kisses her hand placatingly every timehe tries to dissuade her from helping him with dinner and she kisses hisforearm in the park that one time he freaks out on her because she is on hisleft side and goes to hold his arm and he kisses her stomach the first time shegrabs his hand and lets him feel the baby kicking but-

They’ve never properly kiss and it’s this lastfrontier and maybe he is waiting for her to cross it but she just can’t seem to.

And then she is givingbirth and he is there when she is givingbirth and they haven’t even kissed.

And then there’s Henryand they both kiss him plenty but-

///

they don’t kiss whenKillian refuses to hold her baby and she is hurt and offended and so confusedand kinda angry and then he says he can’t, he can’t hold him with one hand andshe is just sad and, yeah, maybe still kinda angry but also eerily calm as shebents Killian’s elbow and gives him the kind of look that makes him shut hismouth audibly and places her son in his arms

they don’t kiss whenKillian barges in on her breastfeeding and twirls around on the spot, slappinga hand over his face and sputtering apologies while all she can do is laugh andlaugh and tell him to stop acting like her tits are a big deal and make her acup of that crappy decaf coffee and he does and he also makes sure to look herdirectly in the eyes and then wink very poorly when he says that her tits are a big deal

they don’t kiss when Henrystarts teething and Emma is up at all hours of the night and she looks likefucking hell and Killian tells her so in no uncertain terms and basically,somehow, taking advantage of her sleep-deprived brain, manages to rope her intoa teeth-sharing plan which basically includes her passing half of her insomniaonto him and Emma can’t forgive him and at the same time can’t love him enoughand yeah, she loves him now and they’ve known each other for a year and they haven’t fucking kissed and what ever

///

they don’t kiss whenshe asks him if he thinks maybe, possibly Liam would like to meet Henry and allKillian can do is nod and swallow and start planning the kind of lecture he’llgive his brother, if he dares to voice any of his doubts about the soundness of the situation, but Liamseems to think that if his brother is spending half his day around a certainbaby – no matter whose it is – it probably isn’t a terrible idea for him tomeet said baby and Liam Jones may be a military man and he may have nevergotten over the fact that he didn’t manage to protect his little brother fromall the evils of the world and he may have been determined to give Emma Swan ahard time for even the slightest hint of her using Killian but he is also puttyin the hands of Henry Swan within 10 minutes

they don’t kiss thefirst time she uses the key to his apartment and sneaks into his bedroom in themiddle of the night – baby in her arms and her hair into the messiest bun thathas ever been twisted and her damn sweatpants and her eyes all puffy and herwhispered worries all about not being able to do it and being all alone and notbeing good enough and he just folds himself around both of them and tries tostart the process of getting each ridiculous notion out of her head

they don’t kiss when shetells Henry to spot throwing his food all over daddy and Killian just standsthere – carrot puree all over his t-shirt, and watches as she continueswhipping the eggs in front of her as if she didn’t just- and he loves them bothtoo damn much to point it out and risk having her take it back and bloody hell,he loves her now and they’ve been together for all intents and purposes forover a year now and they haven’t bloodykissed and good lord

///

She comes back fromthe store and heads directly to Killian’s apartment and tries to calculate ifshe and Henry are spending more time at her place or at his at this point. Butas soon as she opens the door and the smell hits her, her calculations are leftoutside in the cold and it’s all she can do not to moan out loud. Turns out itwasn’t just the little guy growing inside her that made her love Killian’spies.

She hears the lowmurmur of Killian’s voice and decides to tiptoe into the kitchen as quietly aspossible. She wants to look at them without giving her presence away just yet,when it’s just them.

And sure enough Henryis tucked into Killian’s left arm, his little fist twisted into the hair at theback of her boyfriend’s neck (god, he is not her freaking boyfriend, along withHenry in his arms he is her entire fucking universe).

She knows what theyare making already but she narrows her eyes as she realizes that she has neveractually seen Killian make his shepherd’spie.

“This is the only wayI can make your mom eat these, Henry.”

He twirls a broccoliin front of her son’s little nose and Emma rolls her eyes. Partially because it’strue and partially because the broccoli version is not her most favourite.

“When you are oldenough I’m gonna teach you how to make it on your own but for now I’ll justshow you how to make yourself a little forest.”

She honestly doesn’tknow if it’s the implication of years tocome in his promise, the fact that he says it so confidently, so easily,without any doubt, without any caveat of “if we are still together”, withoutany alternative in his mind. Or if it’s the fucking forest of broccoli that heis arranging around his chopping board like the most precious human being thathe is.

Emma honestly doesn’tknow. But she does drop the bag she is carrying on the floor and she crossesthe space between them in the time it takes Killian to turn around and open himmouth to greet her. And then she finally finallyfeels his lips under her own.

He tastes even betterthan his damn pie.

[zecuddlyblumedic]

Soup with soul

Blue-gray eyes scanned the table in front of him. A myriad of objects and things were strewn about its surface, all lined up, all set up nice and proper and in a perfect little line: sacks of flour, a sack of cane sugar, an array of measuring cups and teaspoons, a rolling pin, a bottle or two of pure extracts...

A gentle sigh escaped him as he donned his cooking apron.

Abelärd was a whimsical soul. A real romantic who loved this time of year. It was a time of festivities and gatherings, of people coming together under the unified banner of love and peace. Foolish notions perhaps. But he was happy being a foolish old man with foolish notions.

He loved the joyous change in the air. He loved the cozy corners of rooms where one could retreat to and read a book. He loved the gentle lilting sound of music coming from the radio. He loved the smell of baked goods-- of cookies and challah-- heavy in the air. The sharp, comforting earthy sting to the nostrils of freshly ground cinnamon. A warm mug of tea in his hands, radiating warmth up his numbed fingertips.

He cooked and baked for a variety of reasons. To feed his loved ones, to feed the base. To pass time, of course. To make sure people ate a good, healthy, hearty meal and acquired a much needed boost of vitamins during the cold season. But, mostly, it because he enjoyed it. It made him happy. Not as much as painting a portrait, or sketching one’s likeness in charcoal, but he liked doing it, almost as much. And he enjoyed cooking because he was good at it. He made some of the best, heartiest stews, soups and meals you could ever imagine. His twin brother, Aldous, was always the better one when it came to baking. Aldous was a virtuoso when it came to concocting confectionery wonders.

He cooked kosher foods and non-kosher (seeing as how most at the base did not follow kosher requirements). He cooked with dietary needs in mind (he was a doctor; he had medical files on everyone on his base, including allergies and things they had to stay away from). He made vegetarian dishes. He made dishes for those who loved meat. He made dishes for those who were lactose intolerant, or gluten sensitive. No matter what he made, everything had one common link: it was made with love.

Today he had emerged from his infirmary, leaving his half-finished paperwork behind. He needed a break from his job. What better way to take a break than bake a little goodness? Stir in a little happiness? Give something to someone, feed them, spread a few smiles around. Pass on the love and care that this world so desperately needed.

His cookbook was placed off to the side, numerous multi-colored tabs marking each type of dish, side dish and dessert. Today he settled on a good classic meal: a basic potato soup with homemade bread on the side. The soup would be nice and creamy, heavy enough to stick with someone most of the day. Kosher, but with enough taste to keep one coming back for more. And for dessert, he’d make an apple cake, a closely guarded recipe passed down from none other than his own mother.

His base would be eating good tonight.

He diligently cut the potatoes into cubed chunks, diced onions set aside in a bowl. Music drifted lazily through the air; the radio station was running a series of Christmas-based music all day. A bit too early for the Medic’s tastes, but he wasn’t about to complain. Complaining did nothing. Only made one’s blood pressure rise.

A warbling coo caused him to momentarily pause. As he was reaching for the salt, he glanced over at the sack of flour. Engel, his beloved mourning dove, had taken roost on a canister of pre-ground nuts. The tiny pigeon had fluffed up its feathers, making it look nice and plump. Contentedly it watched the Medic, its beady little eyes blinking, the smear of blue around its eyes looking like a swath of expertly applied mascara.

“Ah, look at you,” he murmured softly in his native language. “Coming to watch your papa make some food for the team?”

“Coo-wooough, ooh, ooh.”

“It’s funny,” he went on, his smile becoming increasingly nostalgic with each passing moment, “cooking makes me remember mother. She used to cook for us all the time. Sang while she stirred the soup. Hummed while she tenderized the meat. She was always having a song in her heart.”

The plump little mourning dove craned his head a bit, looking up at the human who not only was its owner and caretaker, but, in a strange way...

“And,” Abelärd continued, picking up the cutting board before taking it over to a pot, soup base set to a low boil, “she loved making soup.” He slid the cubes of potato in, watching them bob up and down from the heat of the cream. “She said it was her favorite thing to make. That she loved making soup with soul.”

“Coo-wooo...”

“Admittedly, I didn’t understand what she meant. Even after our father died, and she taught us how to cook on our own, for the family... I didn’t understand it.” Picking up the dish of cut onions, he added that. “It wasn’t until I was older did I understand.”

In a calm, gentle voice he told a story to the content little mourning dove, softly cooing in the warmth of the kitchen. He told the bird of a mother’s love. Giselle Johanna Haswell, that was her name. And she made sure no one went without a meal.

Meißen was a nice tightly-knit community when he was a kid. A merger of French influence and German heritage. The streets were calm enough, and there wasn’t much trouble to be had. The Haswells weren’t a rich family, nor were they a poor one. A meager middle-ground. They made do. They had a garden out back where most of their fresh vegetables came from. They pooled together what money they had for the week to get fresh meat at a deal. Whatever they didn’t use right away, they canned or cured for later. It was a nice little existence.

Still, there was sadness on the street they lived on. There were two families who were worse off than they. The epitome of poor at the time. The children of those two families ran around in patched up rags. Dirty faces and scraped knees. They often went without food. The parents worked long, hard hours. Shivering in the cold of a factory building, barely able to make ends meet, blistered feet and worn out shoes with holes.

Abelärd remembered when their father, Friedrich Walfried Haswell, died. He fell ill when they were six, and died shortly after their seventh birthday. For the months following the family mourned. So stricken with grief was Giselle that she didn’t leave her bed for what seemed to be weeks.

One day, on her many trips out to try to get a fresh of breath air in her constant state of mourning, Giselle came across the children of the two families. She saw them stealing from the local marketplace, stuffing fruit into their pockets. They managed the steal the fruit without being caught, and she quietly followed them to see what they’d do.

She witnessed the children pooling together their goods, making sure each kid had an equal amount to take home.

Her heart, as she had told her children, felt as if it were being torn into pieces, and she felt grief anew. Not for her husband, but for the children who, so hungry were they, were stealing food for each other, for their families.

“After that,” Abelärd recounted, stirring in the rest of the ingredients, “she made it her purpose to make the world a better place. She returned to cooking, and she found a renewed sense of passion in it.”

“Cooo...”

“She taught us how to cook, and we often made big batches of food. Meals that we three could not eat by ourselves. I often went over with my brother to deliver the rest of our food, giving our ‘leftovers’ to the two families in need.” His expression softened, becoming sympathetically somber. “And I will never forget,” he murmured softly, “the gratefulness in the way they smiled. The tears in their eyes. The way the children hopped around their parents, excited to get some soup.”

And then it struck him. Abelärd ceased his stirring, and he looked down at the soup he was making. He hadn’t used a small pot, or a medium one. He had used the largest one he found, making the biggest batch he could. Of course he made food for the base and his loved ones-- he always had. But he never realized why he did it, the natural desire to do so. The realization now dawned on him, like the cresting sunrise over snow capped mountains-- sparkling, crystalline, clear.

He was picking up where his mother left off. He was making soup with soul.

“...Cooo...”

“...yes, yes. Of course. I didn’t forget you!”

Turning his attention back to the plump little mourning dove, he moved away from the pot, letting it simmer for a bit. With a merry twinkle in his eye, he picked up a bit of freshly baked bread. He pinched a bit off of it, rewarding his little dove for being oh so patient during that story.

Watching the hungry little bird gobble it up, bobbing its head in delight, the man couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement.

“Such a patient little child. Did you enjoy the story?”

“Coo-woooh... ooo, oo, ooo...”

“Good.”

Wiping his scarred hands off on a dishtowel, he gave the bird a fond little pat before returning to the soup. He was going to make the best soup he could, and he was going to make sure everyone was going to leave that dining hall full and happy.

...Maybe he’d save some of it aside, in a bowl, and take it over to his brother later on. He was sure his brother would enjoy it. After all, with the family recipe, it was sure to be a trip down memory lane.

Abelärd knew how much Aldous still missed their mother.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Nothing like a minty gyroid hunt to put you in the mood for baking

We’ve really been on a roll these past few days! It’s a good sign when the camp is bustling with activity and creativity’s running high. Hunting gyroids, crafting furniture, baking up a storm - all in a good day’s hard work.

Before I get into that, I just want to say that Daisy Jane has accepted my offer to move into the cabin. Being out here in the camp has lifted her spirits so high that her head’s up in the clouds, right where she belongs. Since coming out here, Daisy Jane has filled two sketchbooks, designed four sticker sheets, made a bunch of flower hair accessories, and is now designing gyroid themed furniture with Reese and Cyrus. It’s so great seeing her creative spark return after that terrible art block she’d been experiencing since leaving Rosevine.

In other news, Emmaline and Minnie have stopped by at the camp. Now with a date set in stone (a winter wonderland theme), wedding planning is in full swing. Also joining us is Steven from Eats & Treats (it feels so great saying that!), who’s gonna be catering for the wedding. 

I mean I shouldn’t be surprised at this point but I never imagined that Emmaline and Minnie have crossed paths with Steven at some point. In a way, Emmaline and Steven are quite similar in personality - sunny disposition, easily excitable, empathetic, musically inclined, resilient, sassy, dramatic - I can go on and on. They’ve also been through a lot too, more than they like to let on. 

Both also went out on the road to find themselves after spending most of their formative years helping other people. They’re more than willing to sit down with you to talk about your problems, but ask about theirs and suddenly their schedule’s booked. After spending some much needed time out in the world and confronting their issues, they’re at that point where they finally feel like they found their place. For Emmaline, it’s traveling the universe alongside Minnie and for Steven, it’s pursuing the culinary arts.

Maybe that’s why Steven and I clicked instantly when we first met. It’s because he reminds me so much of Emmaline. Having them both in the same room instantly brightens up everything. Like, how can you not be lifted up by two literal cinnamon rolls of sunshine in your presence? 

If I can sum up Emmaline and Steven in a quote, it’d be “Nothing says resilience more than getting back up and choosing to be kind, even after spending a lifetime trying to understand why the universe often chooses to be unforgiving.”

The theme for this gyroid event is a minty cafe/kitchen set. Reese already had the basic designs for the furniture, but it was lacking something that she and Cyrus couldn’t put their finger on. It’s one of those things where you make something that doesn’t sit quite right so you spend a long time trying to fix it, only to end up dissatisfied with the final results every time. Reese was about to throw in the towel and leave the designs as is until Daisy Jane came along. So for the past few days, Reese, Cyrus, and Daisy Jane were hard at work revising the blueprints so they’d be ready for the event.

Despite cutting it super close - 12 hours before the big day - it was definitely worth it! For someone who never designed furniture before, Daisy Jane did a fantastic job! Sometimes all you need is an outsider’s perspective to give you that spark of inspiration you’re missing. I think the minty gyroid cafe furniture might be one of my favorite collections!

Given how Daisy Jane’s creative output has been bursting with a spark of inspiration I’ve never seen before, I’m sure this marks the start of something greater for her! There’s nothing more satisfying than reigniting something that you were once passionate about after a long spell of being unmotivated and uninspired.

Speaking of inspiration, Steven’s been hard at work in the kitchen. Being responsible for making the wedding cake is a daunting task, but knowing Steven, he’ll be able to pull it off. Also Emmaline and Minnie are easily impressed so whatever he comes up with, they’ll love it.

Steven’s been having a blast working at Eats & Treats, where he does unusual cake recipe videos, but he’s reaching the point where he needs to develop a better work-life balance, especially now that he’s starting to move into doing the longer and more in depth cooking videos Eats & Treats is known for. As expected, he’s excited and intimidated - two emotions that often go hand in hand with each other and can either be a blessing or a curse.

Planning a wedding can be stressful. Emmaline knows that firsthand as she put together Soph and Elle’s wedding in a couple days. That’s why Soph insisted on returning the favor and planning Emmaline and Minnie’s wedding when that day comes. So with Soph and Elle handling stuff like the venue, making reservations, and other details that may be overlooked when planning a big event, Minnie and Emmaline are in good hands.

In the meantime, Emmaline and Minnie are enjoying their time out on the road. Although they’ve seen so much of the world, there’s still a lot they have yet to explore. Hearing stories about their adventures, watching them reenact their most epic moments - I never realized how much I missed their contagious enthusiasm. 

I’m in no way exaggerating when I say that Emmaline is starry-eyed because she literally has stars in her eyes when she’s excited and it’s beautiful.

Before going off on our gyroid adventure, Minnie gave a bunch of us haircuts. That’s her thing lately, giving people a new ‘do to spruce things up. My grown out bangs have been a bit out of control so I’m thankful for Minnie stepping in and working her magic. Minnie has always cut and styled her own hair - a talent that I’m low-key jealous of - and she’s one of those people who can pull off any style. Having pretty much tried every single style one can think of, Minnie’s pretty much a pro.

Speaking of hair, Emmaline has fallen into the bangs dilemma, something I’m too far familiar with. After getting herself a nice fringe last year she’s been going though the stages of dealing with the hassle of having bangs. First you enjoy them and trim them regularly, then get tired of trimming them so you let them grow out, only to have them get in the way all the time, then you get annoyed and impatient so you pull out the scissors. Then the cycle repeats over and over again. 

Tired of having her view obscured by hair, Emmaline chopped her bangs, giving them a feathery, jagged look that actually doesn’t look too bad. In fact, I think it suits her better than the blunt bangs look, especially since she has wavy hair that curls up at the ends. She found her handiwork a bit too short for her liking but I think it looks good. 

After our impromptu salon morning, it’s time to head out on a gyroid adventure! Steven, Emmaline, and Minnie make a pretty great team. Emmaline lays low, plucking gyroids from the ground like how one forages in the forest. Minnie hangs high, climbing trees and swinging branches - sometimes getting lucky and pulling down a bag of bells as well. Steven’s the middle ground, even with a quick glance, he can scope out the site and find gyroids in places others tend to miss.

There’s only so many hours in the day so we spaced out our gyroid outings with baking sessions in between. Since some of the recipes we made need prep time, it works out perfectly!

I never really noticed until now, but Minnie always stands on Emmaline’s left. There’s actually a reason for that - it’s because Emmaline can’t see too well on that side. If you look closely, her left eye’s actually a dark muddy green, not golden brown like her right. Her iris also looks kinda like it’s cracked in half, which was probably what happened when she got hurt. If her powers hadn’t intervened, that eye would’ve been gone. 

For the most part, Emmaline’s vision is fine. The main thing is that her visual field on her left is reduced and her depth perception is slightly off so she wears glasses to help make things like driving and reading easier. Minnie helped her a lot during her recovery process, acting as Emmaline’s guide by helping her adjust and get around. Because of that, Minnie stands to Emmaline’s left by default and their hands automatically reach towards each other. It’s one of those super sweet and subtle things that shows their love.

While baking up a storm in our lovely outdoor kitchen, we also crafted furniture. In a couple days we’ll be surrounded by minty kitchenware so that’s something to look forward to. I can’t wait to see the whole setup once everything’s built!

The first thing we baked were biscuits since it was close to lunchtime. Lately I’ve been into making buttermilk biscuits, having made my first attempt a couple weeks ago. While they tasted good, my first batch lacked flaky layers, which was my bad because I overworked the dough. Subsequent attempts after that turned out so much better now that I know to undermix the dough and finish combining everything while rolling it out. Also, baking biscuits on a cast iron pan is a total game changer, especially if you like a crisp edge.

Okay, so making dough isn’t too bad. I actually found working with biscuit dough to be tolerable. Cutting frozen butter into the dry ingredients however is a lot of work. But even that isn’t too bad if you cut the butter into cubes ahead of time so it’s more manageable to work with. It takes a bit of muscle but the effort is definitely worth it!

Later in the day, once we acquired more minty gyroid kitchen items, we made a bunch of other baked good. First were minty chocolate chip brownies, which was based off a recipe Steven did for Eats & Treats except it’s in brownie form, requires less prep time, and does not involve spicy peppers or vacation juice. 

Then we made lemon bars with a recipe that Minnie spent the last few months perfecting after trying them for the first time at a little cafe and it instantly became one of hers and Emmaline’s favorite desserts. If the ones at that cafe were anything like this batch we made, then no wonder Minnie wanted to recreate them!

Up next we made chocolate matcha butter mochi cake, something that Steven and Megan came up with on the spot. Everything we did was purely experimental, but somehow (probably because we have a pro baker with us) it came out pretty good. Aside from needing a few minor tweaks here and there to balance the flavors better, Operation: Improv a Cake was actually successful!

Other baked goods that were made include Daisy Jane’s dainty shortbread tea cookies. It’s been forever since me, Emmaline, and Minnie had one of Daisy Jane’s treats and all at once we were hit with nostalgia. I was kinda bummed that I missed out on her making the cookies but it was nice being surprised by them after a busy outing!

While there are days when the camp is busy baking sweet treats, I think this is the first time the kitchen’s been occupied all day with different campers coming in and out. Two days in and it’s still as busy as ever. Cyrus did a really great job with the oven considering how much we’ve been using it in a short period of time. I’d hate to think what would happen if we got a cheap oven. Good thing that’s not an issue here.

Speaking of problems though, I think maybe we all went a bit too overboard on the baking. After all, one can only survive on baked goods for so long before wondering why you feel groggy and sluggish, then realizing that it’s been a while since you last ate something plant related. 

Looks like we’re gonna be putting together snack boxes, so over baking isn’t entirely a bad thing - especially when you’ve got a bunch of friends (and their friends) to share your treats with!