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#but its swiss meringue and i like swiss meringue

mousemilf · 9 months

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im making my dads bday cake and i made meringue mushrooms but i had leftover meringue so i was like. what if i folded this into some of the pastry cream that im gonna use for the german buttercream like a creme chiboust for a filling between the layers but i knew in my heart french meringue wouldnt be stable enough for that so after it deflated a bit i whipped it back up over a double boiler like swiss meringue. and i think it worked? its in the fridge now. the cake has cookie butter swirled into it btw and if the meringue holds up im putting some in there too.

#ic

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existingstone · 1 year

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Kakadu plum and Eucalyptus strawberry gum Italian meringue

what is it?

traditionally Italian meringue is a simple Swiss meringue where instead of cold boring plain sugar, hot, 115 degree, not at all a burning hazard, exciting sugar is added. not only does this create the most stable meringue you can possibly make, its suuuper safe to eat right out of the gate. usually one will find these puppies bland, sad, and unsweetened, I however have added Kakadu plum and Eucalyptus strawberry gum to create a delicate little desert

WHAT THE HIFL IS A MERINGUE??????

well well, now that you ask a meringue is, a French confection or candy that is typically produced with sugar and whipped egg whites, with the occasional addition of an acidic element like lemon, vinegar, or cream of tartar. The eggs may also be mixed with a binder, such as gelatine, flour, or salt. The secret to making an excellent meringue is to denaturize the egg white protein ovalbumin through mechanical shear in order to create rigid peaks.

ok , but why Kakadu plum and Strawberry Eucalyptus gum?

'twas evident among my surveyee's that something sweet and delectable was desired so i concocted in my noggin to create a meraingue, not only is it small and rich and flavourfull, it is easilly scaleable so i reasoned that i would need sweet indegenious spices to make this suitible for the naidoc celebration i chose to add Kakadu plum and Strawberry eucalyptus gum.

What is a Kakadu plum even?

Kakadu plum is a stone fruit with a green colouration most of the fruit is edible it contains a stewed apple and pear aroma, cooked citrus and a floral-musk note. Taste is sour with some astringency. it can be bought freeze dried, fresh or powdered (i only had access to the powdered form). its currently only wild harvested (so very expensive, hard to acquire and labor intensive) however commercial plantations are currently being investigated

Strawberry gum??

With a flavour described as sweet, aromatic, and like a blend of berry and passionfruit, the dried, crushed leaves of the Strawberry gum are also employed as a complimentary or enhancing spice in bushfood preparation. Only the Gibraltar Range National Park and the neighbouring Timbarra Plateau are home to this eucalyptus. For their crystalline essential oils used in flavouring and perfumery, Strawberry gum plant leaves are distilled. The yield of the 98% methyl cinnamate leaf oil is 2-6% of the weight of the fresh leaf. High anti-oxidant activity can be found in leaf extracts in hexane, methanol, and ethyl acetate solvents.

RECIPIE!!!!!!

kakadu plum

Strawberry gum

200g white sugar

60ml water

pinch of cream of tartar

4 egg white

boil sugar, water, and cream of tartar to hard ball stage of 121 Celsius (to ensure the sugar does not go past this stage it is advisable to remove at 115 Celsius)

while sugar is cooking beat egg whites to full peak, and while stiff, beating slowly, pour on the boiling sugar and mix, add appropriate amount of Strawberry gum and Kakadu plum

you can eat this raw, however it is best to pipe it into meringues and bake at a low temperature for ~30 minutes or until it can hold its shape when handled but is still marshmallowy

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culinaryhannah · 1 year

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Pies and Tarts

INTRODUCTION

This week, I will be learning…

Method: Pate Sucree, Pate Sablee, Pate Brisee, Flaky & mealy pie crust

Menu: Pate Sucree (Fresh Fruit Tart & Pastry Crème and neutral glaze) 1, Pate Sablee 1/2, Pate Brisee 1/2(Quiche Lorraine 1), Flaky & mealy pie crust 1/2 (lemon meringue pie or Blueberry Pie 1), Pastry Cream 1/4 recipe, Glaze 1/3. apple, strawberry, lemon, frozen blueberry, apricot puree, raspberry, kiwi

Prior Knowledge

I have made apple pie a few times. My aunt makes apple pie for some family gatherings, I really like the spices she uses in hers. She also uses a wide variety of apples and she makes the crust with vodka I believe. I think she said it was a family recipe and the reasoning is that less water and steam makes it flakier or crispier or something. IDK

Learning Objectives

My learning objectives are to prepare a variety of pie and tart crusts, prepare a variety of pie and tart fillings, form and bake a variety of pies and tarts, and store pies and tarts.

RESEARCH

Method of Cooking

Pies are sweet or savory fillings in a baked crust. They can be made without a top crust or topped with a full crust or a lattice crust. Pies are generally made in a round, slope-sided pan and cut into wedges for service. They are distinguished by their homespun qualities and rustic charm.

Pie fillings are often based on seasonal availability of fruit or on holiday traditions.

Tarts are similar to pies except that tarts are made in shallow, straight-sided pans, often with fluted edges. Tart dough is firmer than pie dough, and a finished tart is often displayed without a pan. Tarts can be almost any shape; round, square, rectangular and petal shapes are common, as are petit or individual serving-size tartlets.

Fillings are generally added to tarts after the crust is fully baked. Tarts are usually open-faced and garnished with an attractive arrangement of fruit brushed with glaze, carefully piped cream or chocolate décor.

“After the fat is cut into the flour, water, buttermilk or milk is added to form the dough. Less water is needed for mealy dough because more flour is in contact with the fat, reducing its ability to absorb liquid. Cold water is normally used for both flaky and mealy doughs. The water should be well chilled to prevent softening the fat. Buttermilk or milk may be used to increase richness and nutritional value. Buttermilk will contribute a slightly tangy flavor to the crust. Milk will produce a darker, less crisp crust than water. If dry milk powder is used, it should be dissolved in water first.”

Origin and History

“Contrary to popular belief, the French did not invent Quiche Lorraine, but they did improve upon it. Quiche Lorraine originated in the medieval kingdom of Lothringen, Germany, which the French took over after World War I, which they renamed Lorraine. In fact, the word ‘quiche’ is from the German ‘Kuchen’, meaning cake.

Lorraine resides in what is considered the Aslace region of France, on the west bank of the upper Rhine next to Germany and Switzerland. It is one of the few areas not bombed during WWII with the most picturesque villages to this day. I had the privilege of visiting there a few years ago which you can check on my IG highlights under Belgium-France (It appears halfway through, starting with Colmar). Just like I was mesmerized by the charming Alsace region, you will be mesmerized by the deliciousness that is Quiche Lorraine!(5)”

Quiche Lorraine is a type of quiche with very specific ingredients. To be considered Quiche Lorraine, the quiche must be made with eggs, heavy cream, bacon, and Swiss cheese.

Dish Method Variations

Any quiche that strays from this formula with the omission of bacon or the addition of other ingredients such as ham, sausage, vegetables, etc. is considered quiche, not Quiche Lorraine.

As with many traditional dishes, however, it tends to evolve the farther it gets from home.

Variations

Sources

1)Labensky. On Baking, Fourth Edition 2)https://www.alfajoresbakery.com/blog/2020/2/22/a-brief-history-of-alfajoresnbsp 2)https://youtu.be/48KPMVrHJaA 3)https://ashleemarie.com/four-amazing-pie-crusts/ 4)https://www.finedininglovers.com/article/quiche-lorraine-recipes-origins-famous-open-faced-pie 5) https://carlsbadcravings.com/quiche-lorraine/

RECIPES

(click for better image quality)

Pate Brisee

Basic Pie Dough

Pate Sucree

Pate Sablee

Neutral Glaze

Plan of Work

demo basic pie dough

REFLECTION

Results

Method:

Laminated Dough: The laminated dough method worked decently well. We struggled to roll the dough by hand and create even and sturdy layers.

Chef Michael Schwartz brought us some puff pastry to try. His layers using the sheeter were very consistent and easy to see in the final product. Our layers were less visually distinct. It was easy to count ten layers of his pastries since the layers were separate and outlined with a darker brown from crisping on the edges after separating.

Pastry Cream: Creating pastry cream went smoothly. We allowed the mixture to cool off somewhat, and we also stirred some of the hot liquid into the eggs to temper them before adding them to the hot mixture.

Taste: The pastry was a decent balance of sweet and salty. I would say that the vanilla flavor was strong.

Flavor:

Texture:

Appearance:

Evaluation of results

Discuss the techniques that did work well.

The pastry cream method worked well and was tasty. I can see why this is a useful item to know how to create.

Discuss the techniques that did not work well.

Laminated dough worked not as well as we would have liked. The dough was stretching and tearing. The layers did not become as distinct as we would have liked.

The filling methods worked fine, however the accidental addition of the raw fillings to the pastries caused some food illness which is very bad.

Conclusions

The learning objectives were somewhat met. We prepared laminated dough, and prepared puff pastry, however, we did not bake the danish dough, so we did not get to see the results.

In the future, I will use the sheeter to laminate dough. This is a skill that I would like to learn. I would also like to try some alternative pastry shapes and fillings as well as a savory pastry. I think pastry is best with fresh fruit, so maybe I will make this again when it is time to pick some!

Thank you for reading!

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lostinheaven · 2 years

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oc masterlist

OBVIOUSLY THIS ISNT ALL OF THEM- i have way too many. if u check my toyhouse acc (its aevansaether btw go sub to my toyhouse) i have like 120+ /gen (i need to clear them out i dont even use a lot of them as much as i should)

heres the ocs i'll post about a lot

their ships r listed bcz i will definitely post shippy things about them

cookie run //

swiss meringue cookie | bigender, bisexual, polyam - he/she/they | shipped w/ raspberry, clotted cream, and crunchy chip | 22 maple cookie | transmasc, bisexual - he/him | not shipped with anyone but im considering putting him a qpr w/ cinnamon | 22 choco mocha cookie | transmasc, bisexual - he/him | not shipped with anyone || ageless, effectively like... 17 or something

those three are literally me !!!!! i never shut the fuck up about them !!!!!!!!

furry/anthro //

i will also never shut up about them too!! especially hazel/miles/kiri they are also literally me!! especially especially hazel

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confetti-critter · 2 years

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Oh right, heres the colourful new years thing I baked this year

#i like.....sprimgle #theyre sugar cookie bars with swiss meringue buttercream and its vanilla+orange flavour #food #personable

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comingfromastatechampionasshole · 3 years

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Buttercream: A mostly complete but not at all exhaustive guide to the six main types of buttercream you will encounter in your travels.

There is no one “buttercream!” When you see a cake has “buttercream” you should be asking, “okay but what kind?” as they vary wildly in taste, texture, and ease.

I floated the idea, to great happiness, of me doing a post on the six main types of buttercream, what they are, how they’re made, and what they’re best used for. Are there different kinds of buttercream from these? Sure, I suppose, and it depends on how we’re defining them and who you ask. For example: There’s a style called “Russian Buttercream” that’s just American Buttercream, but made with sweetened condensed milk. I don’t PERSONALLY find it different enough nor does it it enjoy enough widespread use for me to include here. There’s also what I call “Corporate Buttercream” which is American Buttercream but made with shortening. It’s disgusting, for starters, and for seconds, few people make it outside of grocery stores. So that’s a small bit of how I decided which ones I was going to use in this.

I have organized them from easiest to most difficult to make, in my opinion. Some of these are flexible, based on your own personal opinion of cooking and things. So your mileage may vary. The “real” buttercreams (Italian, Swiss, French) are all more difficult than the “faux” buttercreams (American, Flour, German). But all have their uses!

American Buttercream

When people say they hate buttercream, I just assume this is what they’ve had in the past. It doesn’t appeal to me much either, especially if the butter isn’t whipped enough (It needs a SOLID 5-10 minutes of whipping) American Buttercream is a very simple frosting, one of the most simple, in that it’s butter, powdered sugar, vanilla (or other extract) and a little bit of cream. The great thing about American Buttercream is that it is extremely easy to make, and one of the first frostings I ever learned to make. It’s also easy to spread, and does will with broad piping, as it stays relatively soft, and holds color and flavor well. It’s a great pick for frosting sugar cookies with kids. The bad news is: It melts pretty easily. Do not try using this in the summer if you are even thinking of heat being a problem. Also, quite a few people do not care for it!

Flour Buttercream (or ermine frosting)

This is my PERSONAL least favorite buttercream. You would think that it being less sweet than American Buttercream would be a selling point, but I find the texture of it very offputting. This is used about as much as American buttercream, because it’s more resistant to melting. It’s made by heating a milk and sugar base with flour, and allowing it to cool and basically become a kid of sweet glue before adding it to beaten butter. It’s great for cakes that need to be in the heat because it’s more stable, which makes it well suited for decoration, and also, like American Buttercream, has little flavor of its own and holds flavors well. The downside is you have to cool it carefully and cover to avoid getting a skin on it, and it takes longer because of the need for very thorough cooling.

German Buttercream

Whether or not you think German Buttercream is difficult all depends on if you think making custard is difficult. German buttercream basically takes things a step further than Flour Buttercream, and makes the whole base with a custard. This is the best tasting of the ‘faux’ buttercreams by far, because of the flavor the custard allows in development. So why doesn’t it enjoy more wide appeal? A lot of people find the careful eye needed to make custard very difficult, and because of the development of flavor, this buttercream is really only well suited to strongly flavored cakes that can stand up to it. Also, if you thought American Buttercream melted? This one goes to pieces if you look at it wrong, don’t attempt piping or other decoration like that with it. It also is not great for coloring, being as it has a yellow coloring naturally.

Italian Buttercream

From here on in, you need a candy thermometer. PREPARE YE.

I went back and forth on whether or not I thought this or Swiss Meringue was more difficult, so you could flip them in your head and I wouldn’t complain. Italian buttercream is made in the ‘true’ buttercream fashion, by whipping eggs, specifically the whites of the eggs, into a stiff-peaked frenzy, and then mix it with a hot sugar sugar syrup, before whipping it with cubed butter. This is the sturdiest of the ‘true’ buttercreams, and if you wanted to do decorations with one, this would be the one I would choose. It even holds up pretty well in the heat! Downsides are: The difficulty inherent to any “true” buttercream, and also it uses raw eggs, and if you use pasteurized eggs, your whip flat out will not be as good. I just use the raw eggs. It also does not hold well at all--serve it the day you make it.

Swiss Meringue Buttercream

This is my second favorite kind of buttercream, and if you’re nervy about raw eggs but want a ‘true’ buttercream, this is for you. This is the kind of buttercream I make the most. In this buttercream, you cook the egg whites with the sugar, giving you a little bit of an opportunity to ruin the whole thing on the stove. This holds up about as well as Italian buttercream, heat wise, (though not decor wise--it’s very soft and pillowy) and I personally find it holds better overnight. The downside is of course, the cooking risk, and also it requires really constant whisking during to cooking stage. It’s a lighter buttercream and so well suited for lighter cakes and flavors.

French Buttercream

This is actually my favorite buttercream of all time. It is VERY rich, but when it’s done well it retains a quality of lightness and depth of flavor that really carries. What makes me put it at the most difficult? It’s made in the same way as Italian buttercream, with a hot sugar syrup, but you whip the egg YOLKS by themselves. I don’t know what you know about whipping an egg yolk, but there’s a reason you aren’t called upon to do it often--it takes a long ass time to do, and is frustrating. Which is why I rarely make it. But! In addition to tasting great, this buttercream holds decorations REALLY well, as long as it’s not exposed to too much heat--the high fat content means it’s not very heat-resistant. Also, if you’re looking for a white frosting, this is in no way your guy. But it tastes like fucking pastry cream when it’s done well, but solid like frosting. It’s amazing.

Have a burning question about food? Go ahead and ask me! Tip jar is here!

#frosting #dessert #cakes

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dilf-manifester · 3 years

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60 for the ask thing ;));););)))

wow :smirk: thank u for the ask

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? wine glasses 😌✨they make me feel fancy yk how it is

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? lollipops ✨dunno why im like this but here i am ig

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? bubblegum bcs?? have yall tried the hello kitty grape bubblegum??? that shit slaps

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? as was with every gay person “a pleasure to have in class”

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? cans bcs then i can crush it with my hands and flex on everyone else

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? goth and formal bcs uhh yeah

7. earbuds or headphones? earbuds 🤧i dont like the fact that people can hear ur music with headphones

8. movies or tv shows? uHHH i’d have to say tv shows 😩i can pay more attention to shorter episodes yk

9. favorite smell in the summer? the mix of humid summer air and those mosquito candles

10. game you were best at in p.e.? bro im gay did u actually think i would be good at pe

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? i don’t 🥰thanks for asking!

12. name of your favorite playlist? either songs for when the drip or fuck i got blood on my nice white shirt

13. lanyard or key ring? keyrings r better dont @ me

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? black licorice cats 😳😳they’re so good like holy shit

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? the bell jar 😔👉👈its one of my favorite books to this day

16. most comfortable position to sit in? on the floor or with my legs hanging over the arm of the chair

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? leopard print slip ons 🙈🙈they’re so comfortable i stg

18. ideal weather? snowy so i can just sit inside with the fireplace going and do some writing

19. sleeping position? uHHHH idk what to call it but i think the closest thing is fetal position 😭

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? honestly whatever scrap of paper is closest 😭im not picky

21. obsession from childhood? dinosaurs. that’s it that’s the post.

22. role model? i have a few but markiplier (cringe ik) and john green r my main ones🤧🤧🤧i just look up to them a lot yk

23. strange habits? i always have to knock on a door 5 times before entering and okay that might seem excessive but as it turns out idc

24. favorite crystal? malachite or tiger’s eye 😳

25. first song you remember hearing? brown sugar by the rolling stones 😭my mom used to have sticky fingers on vinyl so she used to play it constantly

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? swim even tho i am AWFUL at it

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? play in the snow or just sit inside with the fire going bcs im literally 5 years old mentally

28. five songs to describe you? she’s out of her mind by blink 182, goddamn by never loved, do what you want by ok go, impressive depressive by bad luck, and true romance by she wants revenge

29. best way to bond with you? just talk to me straight up or send me music recs pls

30. places that you find sacred? cemeteries and abandoned schools. they have a rlly specific vibe to them ngl

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? uhhh so its rlly just my docs, black jeans, a mesh type undershirt and whatever top shirt i pull out of my drawer

32. top five favorite vines? is that a police??? im calling the weed❗❗, stAHp i could’ve dropped my croissant, that one where the alien’s walking on the treadmill, summer solstice summer summer solstice, and zach stop

33. most used phrase in your phone? ‘omfg what the fuck’ bcs for some reason thats my automatic response to anything

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? whatever the fuck the ad for the 2001 buick lesabre was

35. average time you fall asleep? like uHHH 12:15 am 🤧

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? doge 😭😭idk why i remember it so vividly but my sister showed me the orignal doge meme and i thought it was the funniest shit

37. suitcase or duffel bag? suitcase 🤧they make me feel cool

38. lemonade or tea? both 🙈i’m an arnold palmer kinda mf

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? lemon meringue pie 🤧banger dessert methinks

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? a fence caught on fire in front of the science rooms bcs someone was smoking weed on the roof and threw their blunt on the dead bushes and everything went downhill from there

41. last person you texted? my grandma asking her if she could pick up some tomatoes from vons 🧍‍♂️

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? JACKET POCKETS SUPREMACY❗❗❗

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? ngl i wear all of those but i gotta go with the hoodie 🤧🤧

44. favorite scent for soap? lavender or vanilla rose😌✨

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? sci-fi bcs uhh yea fuck it thats why

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? just an oversized shirt that’s it that’s the post

47. favorite type of cheese? swiss or havarti and you can fight me on that

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? pineapple 😌😌😌

49. what saying or quote do you live by? ‘fuck’ -markiplier 2021

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=553CfZAADag i swear the first time i saw that i laughed so hard i thought i was gonna die

51. current stresses? everything; next question

52. favorite font? comic sans bcs im 8 years old

53. what is the current state of your hands? smoov and v well taken care of

54. what did you learn from your first job? capitalism is the root of all evil and that traditional working is outdated also raise the minimum wage

55. favorite fairy tale? vasilii the beggar 🤧🤧idk if anyone else knows it but its always been one of my favorites

56. favorite tradition? every year during rosh hashanah we go over to my uncle and tia’s house and i absolutely kick ass at mariokart bcs all my cousins suck at itn also lighting the hannukiah (hanukkah menorah)

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? low self esteem, anxiety over literally everything, and an inferiority complex (now replaced with a fucking god complex bcs there’s no inbetween for me)

58. four talents you’re proud of having? i can play like a bunch of instruments, im rlly good at writing, i’m good at building things and doing things with my hands, and i can identify what song’s playing rlly fast if i know it🤧

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? motherfucker or son of a bitch 😊😊😊

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? slice of life like bro just please give me a break

#finally after several hours #i've done it #i finished this post

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littleblondesoprano · 4 years

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Your tags are gold, but you forgot Roche and Ves

OH MY GOD HOW DID I FORGET THEM.

My previous tags: #THE WITCHER 2 AND THE GREAT BRITISH BAKEOFF#OH I WANT IT SO BAD NOW#I wanna see Geralt try and make a chocolate soufflé#Dandelion tries to flirt with Paul Hollywood AND Mel while his cardamom tart burns#Yen has to be held back when Paul says her cheesecake has a soggy bottom#Ciri cries at pastry week#Zolton is so close to the top three but his cinnamon wasn't strong enough#(he secretly wants Ciri to win)#Lambert's cookies get called Bland and he nearly jumps across the station#Eskel has the most Star Baker wins ever#Vesemir drinks the rum he brought to put in the cake and laaaughs#Iorveth makes everything with red food coloring because it's the 'blood of D'hoine'#(Everyone likes him because he scares Paul Hollywood)#Saskia has the most imaginative bakes#Regis likes to chat with Vesemir during off time and helps Ciri when she needs it#(much to Geralt's at first chagrin and then he was grateful)#Dethmold is the first to leave#he does NOT get a MelSue sandwich#Letho is one of the last three with Ciri and Eskel#Triss keeps trying to befriend Yen (and makes the funniest decorations) but gets voted off kinda early because she put too much rosewater in#her baked alaska

The additions:

Roche has the worst luck of anyone in the tent. Try to make spun sugar? It rains just as he starts to twirl it. Making a custard? Eggs cook. Making a meringue? Doesn’t set and curdles. He’s the one secretly crying at the end of every episode due to sheer stress.

Ves is very good at cooking, but she’s horrendous at baking - so she tries to make every bake savory - which works until it doesn’t. She’s sent home on the first true challenge that must be a dessert, but she made the best game pie that Paul or Mary had ever eaten.

Iorveth’s thinly veiled threats are neither thin or veiled - all directed at Paul. Paul said Iorveth over-proved his Swiss Roll sponge and in the next Showstopper Iorveth crafted a decapitated Paul Hollywood out of his own marshmallow fondant and splattered red food coloring all over it. Everyone laughed because it’s Paul, and Sue does not let a day go by without reminding him of it. Paul is afraid for the rest of the season.

Lambert isn’t great with construction, but Eskel almost always runs over to help (whether he asks for it or not) while Lambert yells at him that its a competition, but is secretly grateful for it - Geralt comes in behind their backs and switches the fine white sugar for salt. Eskel notices. Eskel always notices. (He switches it back before Lambert can commit murder). Lambert is Flavor King of the season.

Eskel seems like he’s made everything before. Everyone becomes slightly uneasy after he wins his seventh Star Baker award. He looks Paul Hollywood in the eye - He does not fear Bread Week. Eskel does not fear death, nor pastry.

Mary Berry likes Vesemir, he always incorporates alcohol in his bakes - and it tastes good, surprisingly.

Regis cooks with truffle oil in all of his savory bakes. Most of them are ones Mary and Paul haven’t heard of - but they’re delicious. His banter with Mel and Sue becomes Legendary.

Geralt uses Axii one time on Paul and everyone calls bullshit when the Silver Gorilla calls his deflated, soupy crème brulee the “most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten”. He also, when Ciri wins and he can finally settle in Corvo Bianco, takes her engraved cake stand and puts it in the first Trophy spot by the entrance of the main house. Right under the portrait of herself as a child in a giant dress - he tears up a little when he thinks about Pastry Week too much.

Triss likes to use strawberries, mulled wine, and rose water in almost everything she makes. She tries to use magic to fix a dangerously leaning clocktower of white wine flavored eclairs and Yen calls bullshit because she can’t portal to Tesco to get a chocolate mold, magic isn’t allowed - the tower falls. Murder is narrowly avoided. Geralt does not make things better.

Ciri is youngest baker, and also wins it all - Pastry week is her worst week. She’s horrible at Technicals to begin with, and everyone tenses when Paul criticizes her because between the Witchers and Yen, they all fully expect a murder. She can’t figure out laminated dough, but pulls it out with gentle nudges from Uncle Eskel and the helping hands of Sue and Mel. In the end, she’s is neck-and-neck with Letho. Eskel plays too nice for his own good and helps Ciri when things go wrong to his own flavor detriment. Ciri thanks Uncle Eskel - Geralt rubs it in everyone’s respective faces that his daughter won.

Saskia likes to paint and decorate her bakes - they’re some of the most imaginative designs they’ve had on Bake Off, but she falls into the pit of style vs. substance. (Everyone takes pictures of her desserts when the camera turns off, though)

Dandelion likes to hum while he cooks, and his station is right behind Geralt’s - Geralt often gets songs stuck in his head then. He also lets Geralt use his station if there’s extra room and vice versa - though, when they accidentally switch custards it actually turns out better for the both of them. Dandelion is surprisingly good at Bread Week, and actually dethrones Eskel and wins Star Baker. His decorating skills are just behind that of Saskia’s - even going so far as to make a mini Roach grazing in a pastoral field of daises on his covered Black Forrest cake. Ciri likes the rendition of an Archespore he makes that fondant Geralt fights in the background. Dandelion also secures not only Mel’s number, but Eskel’s.

No one knows how Letho got so good at baking. Not many know where Letho came from anyway; he is the silent-but-deadly sleeper cell of the season who stays middling in the beginning, before his true prowess is revealed. Ciri still beats him.

#The Witcher 2 #Assassins of Kings #The Great British Bake Off #The Great British Baking Show #The Witcher #ask

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bigfan-fanfic · 5 years

Text

Darkside Bakes 7 (with Batdad Reader!)

Tagging @galaxis-pixi

Sorry for such a long wait in between chapters! This one is gonna be special, involving not just the Baker, but Batdad as well! *gasp* And check out the OC List if you need a refresher for who these people at Darkside Bakes are!

The Baker (written as Gender Neutral!Reader)

“Holy cow! You guys have to see this!” Nate shouts from the front, startling you nearly to death and making you drop the little chocolate monkey you were making for a jungle-themed cake for Gorilla Grodd (in Gotham aligning with Cheetah and Killer Croc for Animal-Kingdom-themed crime)

Thankfully, Alma dives for it and catches it before it hits the floor, nearly getting run over by Anji, who went speeding to find out what was happening.

“Amateurs. Go ahead. I’ll take care of the fillings. Each chocolate animal in this edible diorama is supposed to be filled with a vanilla bean cream mixture.

You nod and head out front. At the storefront, there is a limo, and two well-dressed men are getting out.. Bruce Wayne and his husband.

Anji and Nate are starstruck as the two men enter Darkside Bakes.

“Hello there.” Bruce Wayne grins. “Our sons happen to have mentioned your bakery in passing.”

His husband smiles kindly at you. “And we were wondering if you would be available to cater a holiday event at Wayne Manor in the next few weeks.”

Anji looks at you with her now-familiar excited face, practically jumping up and down with joy.

“Yes, of course. I’d... yes.”

“Wonderful. We’ll have our son Dick coordinate with you for the event, if you don’t mind.”

So over the next few days, you all work overtime. You, Marcia, Nate, and Ike focus on the Wayne function, while Alma, Priya, Ryan, and Anji work on the day-to-day, although you and Marcia often duck in to help them.

Dick Grayson shows up every day to talk with you and Ike about the ever-changing seating arrangements, decor themes, and flavor profiles needed for the gala and completely distracting most of your younger employees. Priya once barked at Anji and Ike because they had frozen to watch Dick walk around and eat a brownie, and you nearly had to drag Nate back to work.

Occasionally, Mr. Wayne also comes in, apologizing for the difficulty, as he isn’t planning the gala on his own. He assures you that there’ll be extra in the final bill as an apology.

Slowly it comes together. Each table has its own entremet tower covered in pastel-colored glazes as an edible centerpiece. There’s a banquet table dedicated to your desserts, with an oversized Swiss roll filled with strawberry jelly and made with a banana sponge (poor Ryan nearly passed out when he accidentally got some strawberry on him). There’s a little tea service made to look like white porcelain, but is really made out of tempered white chocolate. And there’s a beautiful tower of thin cinnamon tuiles and a gingerbread replica of Wayne Manor.

Though there’s been a different business hired for dinner, you get to serve the appetizers, a massive batch of cunapes that Ike made all on his own and is exceptionally proud of. Nate also made the little mini baguettes served at each table.

And serving as the dessert course is Alma’s piece de resistance: an option of either creme brulee or chocolate souffle, both made perfectly.

You’re so proud of the hard work you all put into it. Dick Grayson comes up to congratulate each one of you by name (which makes Anji and Nate swoon a little)

However, something feels off when you see little Damian Wayne and Bruce Wayne together.

Something about it just... clicks. This father and son pair...is just the same as another - Matches and Danny Malone. So your delivery boy is Damian Wayne, and that means that Bruce Wayne moonlights as a mobster?

And then the Penguin crashes the party, getting window glass all up in what’s left of the Swiss roll.

He comes to find you. “So, the big Baker, all high and mighty, working for the Waynes now, huh? And giving information to the Bat!”

Marcia stands in front of you, and the Penguin recoils. “Waddle off, Penguin. We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You should have known. Cobblepot gave you your big break, and he hates the Waynes. He probably came up with whatever other excuse he could to attack.

“Get away from them, Oswald.” Mr. Wayne says firmly, stepping forward.

But you notice that neither Bruce nor Damian are to be found. Neither are any of the Wayne sons, even though Dick had just pulled Ike out of the way of Cobblepot’s entrance.

And then the Bat and his sidekicks show up. You and the others go to find Ike, because seeing the Bat tends to trigger him, and besides, you want to get out before you get attacked by Cobblepot again.

No.. Bruce Wayne doesn’t moonlight as a Gotham mobster, but a Gotham vigilante!

Bruce Wayne... is Batman!

Batdad (written as Male!Reader)

“We need to find out more about this Baker.” Bruce says firmly in the Batcave.

“Really? Are you sure? What can a baker do, really?” Dick says skeptically. He’s been in love with this Darkside Bakes ever since he ate one of their chocolate cakes.

Damian growled. “Nearly every villain in Gotham went to rescue them. They receive messages from the villains. Whatever is happening, the Baker is in the thick of it.”

“Not necessarily.” Bruce says thoughtfully. “We might be able to use Darkside Bakes as a source of intel. But we’ll need to learn more about their operation.”

“I thought that was why you had the little demon working there.” Jason mutters.

“They’re secretive.” Tim points out. “And the cover story sucks. I wouldn’t want to let the kid of a Gotham mobster in on my business, would you?”

You look at them incredulously. “So why not just hire them?”

They’re momentarily stunned. “Yeah, hire them for a gala or something, and have either me or Dick go look at their operation on the inside - gala problems or whatever.”

“Why you two?” Jason asked.

“Because we have people skills, bud.”

“...fair point.”

So you send Dick, because he’ll be better at placing the hidden microphones while talking to the Baker.

The bakers don’t talk much about villainy, but occasionally you pick up a tidbit here and there, like Cheetah working with Grodd and Killer Croc, or that Calendar Man will probably come in on Daylight Savings Time. One time, Penguin comes in and you get tipped off to something he’s planning for the night before the gala. Bruce stops him, but Oswald gets away.

Penguin crashes the gala and seems to be about to attack the bakers when you step in, distracting the crowd so Bruce and the others can change.

Afterwards - the Baker and their crew have left, so you figure you’ll present a check in person tomorrow - you glare at Bruce. “What did you say to him?”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?”

“He must have figured that the Baker is working with Batman, not that we’ve been spying on them! What if they’re in terrible danger now?”

“We’ll save them. It’s clear that they aren’t a villain.”

“Now.” you say darkly.

Dick looks at you curiously. “What do you mean?”

Jason scoffs. “It’s possible that the villains might get suspicious. To protect themself and the others, the Baker might get pushed into doing something criminal.”

“But... every criminal in Gotham seems to go to Darkside Bakes. Even the non-crazy ones.” Tim shudders. “And if the Baker has the allegiance of every single villain in Gotham, then that would mean...”

Bruce finishes the thought. “If the Baker becomes a villain, they might just be able to become the most effective criminal Gotham City has ever seen.”

You sigh. “We messed up, didn’t we?”

Dick nods. “We overwhipped the meringue, and now all the air is out of it. Now it’s just curdled...what? I’ve been in a bakery for two weeks, I’ve got it on the brain!”

#darkside bakes #featuring #batdad reader #batman headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanons

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus-Size Reader: Epilogue Part 2: The End

a/n: I can’t believe this story is done. It gave me so much happiness and so much goodness just to get to know these two characters and to get to be a part of how they loved. When I first started this story I really just wanted to see myself. I had just started liking Shawn and I couldn’t envision myself in his world yet, not that I need to be there, but that a part of my young little fangirl heart really needed. It was such an honor to write this story. I hope it meant something to you. It sure as hell meant something to me. K bye.

*Shawn’s point of view*

When the morning sickness comes, it comes with a fucking vengance. It’s like clock work. Every night by three am she’s up out of bed, with her head in the toilet. So, every night by three am he’s got her legs in his lap while her head is in the toilet. For a while she can’t keep anything down, and it worries him endlessly. She loses some weight, which just seemed like the opposite of what was supposed to happen, so he begs her to go to the doctor, and she obliges him. He switches to flying exclusively on the private jet, just so she can come with him on the off chance he needs to leave home. At that point he would’ve done anything to make her more comfortable.

And that’s the good news. He read horror stories about the strain that pregnancy could put on a marriage or a relationship. Mostly because he was buying any pregnancy book he could get his hands on at that point. His own mother had told both of them a detailed account of the time she threw a sandwich at his father’s head because it didn’t have mayo on it. A sandwich. But y/n seemed to lean on him more than ever. Instead of pushing him away, she felt like she could rely on him, and she wasn’t afraid to ask him for things anymore. He loved it.

He’s in a studio session with Teddy and Scott trying to figure out how to do whatever it is that they do again when she calls him. He’s in the booth, mid vocal and everything, but he leaves his phone on just in case she needs him.

“Baby? What’s wrong, is the baby okay?” he asked slipping his headphones off to hear her better.

Her voice is small like she might get in trouble.

“Yea, the baby is fine. Sorry, I know I keep scaring you every time I call.”

“No. No, I want you to call every time. No matter what. What’s up?”

“Well….it’s just that I was really craving french fries.” She mumbled. “And so I was kinda hoping you might want to meet for lunch today?”

Literally the cutest human on the face of the planet.

He chuckled. “I’d love to. Where you do you wanna go?”

“We can figure that out when you pick me up from work, just bring the fries with you.”

“You want the fries before lunch?”

“Yes. Yes. I do.”

Of course she did.

“I’ll be there in an hour okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you.”

He gets off the phone and finally stares up through the window of the booth where his friends have all heard him completely ditch his recording session to take his person french fries. He smiled and waved, but they were not impressed. And thus were the trials of pregnancy.

***

y/n’s pov

No one prepares you for the sex thing. In all of the stories from Shawn’s parents, from Zubein and his wife, hell even your mom on occasion, no one had ever mentioned that you were going to turn into a boarderline sex addict in your second trimester. And certainly no one told you that your person, your human, your love, was going to not want to touch you. No one ever told you about that shit.

When the morning sickness lets up, and you can finally stomach food again, some cravings naturally start to pop up. Not that nasty pickles and peanut butter shit, but like real food. For instance once at four o’clock in the morning, you needed to have your famous yellow cake with chocolate swiss meringue, which meant Shawn needed to make it for you right there and then. It was terrible. He nearly set the kitchen on fire. But he took you to a 24/7 diner and bought you chocolate chip pancakes and let you snuggle into his sweater, so honestly it was a win win type scenario. After the weird cravings comes an absolute fire in your loins. Your lobido fucking skyrocketed and there wasn’t much you could think of to help besides him.

Morning times meant sharing the shower with each other to spend time together before you both went to work. When you see him standing there beneath the showerhead, his curls soaking wet and the water flowing over his belly and down his thighs your body naturally had questions of the dick variety.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, lips pressing against his skin into a smile.

“Someone’s happy this morning.” He chuckled.

“You have no idea.” You hummed. “Shawn?”

He turned in your arms, hands immediately going to your belly instead of any other part of your body.

“Yea, sweetheart?”

You frowned slightly and lifted up onto your tiptoes to kiss at his jaw. “Can we have a little fun before work? I don’t have any meetings this morning.”

“O--Oh...But I gotta get to the studio, honey.”

You shook your head tugging him closer. “It can wait. Please? It’s been a while.”

You weren’t used to having to...beg. It felt kind of beneath you. Years of Shawn getting a whiff of your shampoo and knocking you into the headboard had made you grow soft. Shawn had never turned you down before. Not without it eventually leading to sex. This was your new territory. And quite frankly you were not a fan.

“I’m sorry, love. I really do have to go the studio okay? We can talk when you get home from work.”

He kissed your forehead and leaned down to kiss your stomach before he was out of the shower so fast you weren’t so sure he’d been there to begin with. It was….odd.

You had like...girlfriends now. After your reawakening at twenty-six, you had taken it upon yourself to be more intentional about creating relationships with people. It resulted it in some really incredible friendships. The kind of friendships where you didn’t feel bad relying on people, didn’t feel like a burden on them because they never let you. Enter your friends Cynthia and Taylor.

y/n: Can we do a woman’s lunch today tbh? My person is ruining my life.

Cynthia: WHAT HE DO? You want us to cut him?

Taylor: Down kitty. You have to stop threatening to cut people. Let’s do lunch, you can vent to us. We’ll fix it!

y/n: God, I love you both. Yay.

You leave work early and wobble your ass off to lunch with your bitches. Shawn texts to check in twice before noon, but both times are of the baby variety and nothing more. You get a little angrier each time. And then you sit down at lunch and your best friends order cocktails and you get even angrier. Ugh.

“I can’t believe I let a man impregnate me.” You huff stabbing your fork into your salad. “I really let him catch me slipping. The patriarchy. Disgusting.”

Taylor snorted. “I quite love the fact that your second trimester is full of feminist rants by the way. I find it to be very entertaining.”

“Well I’m glad that we’re all revelling in my misery. I’m glad I’m providing quality content for the both of you.” You grumbled. “It’s fucking cold. My tits are numb and I hate everything.”

Cynthia chortled. “Girl you are on one today. Why don’t you just tell us what the hell happened?”

You squirmed slightly in your seat. The frustration was taking its toll on your body and your emotions. You’d had enough and it wasn’t even just Shawn at this point. You were just...angry.

“I have an eight ounce sirloin steak kicking at my uterus. I’ve gained twenty pounds. My mother-in-law sewed spandex into my jeans the other day. I ran into a door and my boobs are so sore I cried for thirty minutes. And I haven’t even been at work for four hours. I’m annoyed okay. And all I wanted ...the only thing I really wanted was an orgasm! Is that too much to ask for?”

Cynthia, and this is why you loved her with everything in you, followed you for every word. As if she just knew what you were saying and agreed with you endlessly. She was a ride or die through and through. A beautiful, ethereal black woman with a brilliant afro and these badass circular rimmed glasses that were gold and complimented her skin perfectly. She was beautiful. And vibrant. And loud. And completely unapologetic.

“Yes. I mean that’s what you deserve. For sure.” She shrugged. “So, he couldn’t make you cum, is that it? Men. The worst.”

“”Couldn’t?!’ He didn’t even try. He won’t touch me unless it’s my stomach, or talking to the baby. I am no longer his life partner, I am no longer his lover, I am just a vessel for a baby. And that’s it.”

Taylor was the thinker of the group. She was damn near a philosopher. When you needed advice, she was the one you went to. Taylor was Canadian born and raised, but her parents were turkish immigrants. She was similarly incredibly gorgeous. She was thick in every sense of the word. Thick in her thighs. Thick in her hair. Thick in her eyebrows. She was a beautiful Brown dream. And you were just quite honestly stunned by their beauty most of the time.

“So… let’s backtrack. You’re frustrated, of course. You’re in the middle of your second trimester. Emotions are rampant. Let’s focus on what’s really irritating you.” She murmured.

“Shawn. Shawn is really irritating me.”

“Okay. And Shawn is really irritating because why?”

“Because...Because I need to cum.” You sputtered. “He’s always made me cum. Why would he choose now of all times to not make me cum.”

“She’s got a point. They have more sex than an episode on Showtime.” Cynthia butt in.

You nodded in agreeance.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Well yes. I understand. Why do we think that he’s not making you cum? Have you talked to him about it?”

“Maybe it’s because I look like a beach whale?”

“No negative self-talk!”

“I have got to get a friend who is not a therapist.” You whined.

“You need me. You’re lucky I don’t charge your asses. Now think it through. Talk it out. There’s no wrong way right now. Shawn isn’t here. You can be honest with us.”

Taylor was genuine. And most geniuses are often times unappreciated in life.

You reached for your iced tea all frowns and indigestion.

“I think, based off the signals that I have been receiving, that he isn’t attracted to me like this. I think that he sees me as a mom now, and not at a sexual being.” You said honestly. “He’s just always touching my stomach and always talking to my stomach, and always talking about the baby. Sometimes I feel like I don’t exist anymore.”

“Awww babes, that is so sad.” Cynthia murmured reaching for your hand.

Taylor nodded. “That’s fair. So let’s unpack it. How do you view your body right now?”

“Oh, T, can we please not analyze me right now? Please? I just need you be my friend right now okay? I didn’t come here to get my problem solved. I came here to eat lunch with my friends and complain a little bit.”

“Fine, fine! My bad.” She raised her hands in defense. “Why don’t we just talk about what it is you want instead? No filter. Just go.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at her. “I really...just want him to rail me like a car hitting a light pole at maximum velocity.”

At that very moment, your waiter arrived with the check, and seemed to blush head to toe. Whoops.

“She’s pregnant.” Cynthia explained. “It’s the hormones.”

Friendship.

***

Shawn’s point of view*

“I don’t care about what they want, Andrew. I’m thirty years old for Christ’s sake, I’m not a teeny bopper anymore.” He grunted trying to balance the groceries and still unlock the front door.

“Yes, no I understand. They just want to manage the sex appeal a little bit. Timberlake, Bieber, Mayer, doesn’t matter who you are. It’s important to remind the female dominated fanbase that you’re...you know? A sexual being.”

Listening to andrew try and explain concepts that he himself wasn’t even interested in was always a hoot.

“A sexual being? I’m having a goddamn baby, Andrew.”

“Yes well, the public doesn’t know that yet. Maybe just a photoshoot? A magazine cover? You wouldn’t even have to leave Toronto. It’ll get them off our backs and you can just finish up the album you wanna make, yea?”

He headed straight for the kitchen where the tea kettle was going, but his person was mysteriously missing from her cup.

“Babe! I’m home!” He called, setting the groceries down, finally. “Whatever. Send me a proposal, I guess, and I’ll look over it. I’m not guaranteeing anything. My fans have seen my abs before, I don’t think it’s gonna sell more records than we’re already selling. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Sounds good. Love you man.”

“Yea, love you too.” He sighed ending the call. “Babe?! Where are you?”

He hears the door to the downstairs bathroom open, and she walks out in this adorable dress with her fleece lined leggings. She looks soft and cuddly and he’s already hopeful that she’ll let him snuggle her into the couch and watch a movie after dinner. He’s kind of obsessed with her. Like always.

“This child is literally sitting on my bladder at this point.” She groaned rubbing at her stomach.

He reached for her immediately, his hands cupping at her now unhidable baby bump that drove him crazy on a daily basis.

“You gotta let mommy have a break, little one.” He hummed peering down at her bump. “We don’t wanna tire her out too much before you arrive.”

She lets out a little breath and pulls away from him to go back to her tea. He went for the groceries to begin putting them away, and set aside what she’d asked him to grab for dinner.

“Hey I thought we could do a movie night on the couch after dinner? Cuddle a little bit?”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of tired.”

“Oh. Okay. Well we can watch them in bed too. I don’t mind where, just wanna be with you.”

“Yea, maybe.”

He paused by the cabinet with a box of pasta in one hand and flour in the other. She was on the other side of the kitchen pouring water into her cup. She set the tea kettle back and immediately left the room. He could practically feel the emotion coming off of her. The silent treatment certainly wasn’t subtle either.

“Hey,” He asked softly plopping down on the couch. “Are you feeling okay? Everything alright with the baby?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic snort. “The baby. Is. Fine. Shawn. They’re fine.”

“Okay, well is something else bothering you that you’d like to let me in on?”

“I don’t know, is there something you want to tell me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No? Is there something you would like me to tell you?”

“No. I guess not. “

His person, and she was his person for sure, was a little hard to read sometimes. And by hard to read, he definitely meant incredibly easy to read, and so deeply difficult to get through to. Perhaps pregnancy simply amplified emotions, because she might as well as had a neon sign that said, “I AM PISSED AT YOU” on her forehead.

“Look in the interest of time, and both of our headaches, why don’t you just tell me what I did wrong so I can get to apologizing already.”

Mistake. Total mistake. You can love someone for years and you can learn and grow together and allow yourself to be vulnerable with them in every way. It doesn’t mean you’re always gonna get it right. That’s never guaranteed. Clearly.

“No! No you don’t get to just make me share my emotions before I’m ready! I’m a goddamn human being, alright I’m not just a reciprocal. I’m not just a place for you put it! God, Shawn. You are such an ass.”

And then she’s off the couch and stomping up the stairs in anger. She definitely also quoted Lady Gaga’s documentary. He made a mental note to stop watching documentaries before bed. It never went well. Last month she woke up in the middle of the night, thought he was a prison guard from a documentary on the prison industrial complex in the states, and definitely jabbed him in the throat. Documentaries. Big no no.

He figures that’s his cue to make dinner. She almost never let him cook, but he knew she’d be even angrier if there was nothing to eat when this was over. He spends a little time trying to figure out what he could have done. But things had been going so well, that he’s truly at a loss. They both went to work every day. They spent their evenings together. He rubbed cocoa butter on her stomach every night for Christ’s sake. He spent hours whispering to her belly and playing guitar so that their baby would know the scales straight from the womb. What could possibly be wrong?

He makes her famous spaghetti bolognese and only burns the garlic once, so that’s a first. He leaves the food on the stove and heads for the stairs in the hopes that she’ll be ready to talk to him. Outside of their bedroom door though, there’s the sound of crying and his heart just instantly breaks. He doesn’t do well with a sad y/n. Ever. It killed him. This was a well known fact.

So maybe he burst into the room and collapsed a little bit at her feet. Who was keeping track? Not him. That was for damn sure.

“Hey, please don’t cry. Please, I can’t watch you cry. Whatever I did just--just tell me and I’ll make it right. I never wanna hurt you, you gotta know that.” He begged.

“It’s stupid. This is stupid!” She sobbed.

“Okay. Okay, this is new for us. I am just slightly freaking out that I may have broken you! Please talk to me!”

“You’re not attracted to me anymore!”

That certainly gave him pause.

“That’s crazy, sweetheart. What are you even talking about?!”

She keeps sobbing. Her face is red. Cheeks wet. And his heart is exploding in his chest. He’s got no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do. He broke his person!

“I looked like a whale ate Kim Kardashian when she was pregnant with North West! My shoes don’t fit anymore, and my goddamn feet hurt. I feel like Mike Tyson has been punching my fucking tits. And you don’t wanna have sex with me anymore, now?! Out of all the times in the world? Now I’m so fucking repulsive that the love of my life won’t even touch me?! I JUST NEEDED DICK OKAY?”

She keeps crying , and his heart keeps hammering, and he knows that he has to figure something out, or this isn’t going to get any better. She’s in absolute hysterics and it is somehow, even though he was still struggling to figure that part out, completely his fault.

He reached for the box of tissues and patted gently at her eyes to get rid of some of the wetness. He held another tissue to her nose and ordered her to blow, which somehow only made her cry more. It is the most heightened expression of emotions he had ever seen from her. And it’s awful, and he hates it, and he just needs to make her smile. So, he wraps her up in his arms and he shhh’s her as he rocks her gently back and forth waiting for the sobs to subside before speaking.

“Honey, I don’t know what I did to make you think I’m not attracted to you.” He murmured playing with her hair soothingly. “But I’ve never not been attracted to you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I love you so much.”

She pulled just slightly away enough to look him in the eyes, her own red and swollen with a sadness in them that cut him deep.

“Then why haven’t we had sex in over a month, Shawn?” She sniffled. “You’re repulsed by me. Just admit it.”

He sighed peering down at his person who he’s somehow managed to deeply hurt without even being aware of it. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

“How could you say to me?” He asked. “I’m not repulsed by you, y/n. I just...I just I don’t wanna hurt the baby.”

She bit her lip, her sadness turning to anger like the flip of the switch. She yanked herself from his arms and moved to the opposite side of the bed.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about! You don’t even view me as a human being anymore. I’m just a casing, I’m the thing that holds the thing you really care about.”

“What the hell, y/n; where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from the fact that you don’t treat me like anything other than the thing that’s holding your baby anymore. You don’t talk to me, you talk to my stomach. You don’t look at me unless you’re mentioning the baby. What’s the fucking point anymore. Why don’t I just lay down in bed for five more months and maybe the baby will roll out and you can go live happily ever after.”

He’s admittedly angry at first. Angry because his person is telling him something he doesn’t want to hear. That he’d failed somehow at loving her, had let her down and made her believe that he didn’t want her the way that he used to. He’s angry because she’d reverted back to a place they hadn’t been in years, a place of being unable to be honest and upfront with each other. She hid it away until it boiled, until it was undisguisable, until she literally exploded, and he hated when she did that.

But he’s older now. He’s a little wiser. Maybe. He at least knows her better. Understands her better. It’s when he takes a deep breath and just allows himself to actually absorb what she’s told him that he understands. This is about insecurities. It’s about fears that had been eating her up inside for who knows how long, and her not wanting to admit that to herself, let alone him. He’s in the wrong for not explaining himself, and he can see how he fed into her insecurities. It’s both of their faults, as it so often the case in these scenarios. But, he’ll do just about anything to make it better. Always.

“Okay. I--I understand. I see that I’ve hurt you, that I haven’t been treating you the way that you want and deserve. I’m sorry.”

Her arms are crossed and she tilts her head in his direction, but still barely looks at him. He takes a chance and scoots a little closer.

“Y/n...At the risk of sharing too much information in the wrong moment. . . I haven’t been able to masturbate to something that isn’t you since our four month anniversary.”

Her eyes widen and her anger falters.

“W--What?”

“Trust me, I’ve tried. My dick is kind of emotionally invested in you, and it hasn’t been the same since.” He shrugged. “I am...so incredibly in love with you. I’m never going to want anything else. Even when you’re screaming at me until you’re red in the face, I’m still gonna want you. The only reason why I haven’t wanted to have sex is because I don’t want to hurt you, or the baby. I know it’s silly. I’ve read the books. But you are the most important thing in my life okay? You and this baby are all that I have; you’re all that matters. I need you to believe that. Tell me you believe that.”

She bit her lip, fingers picking anxiously at the skin of her nails that sat in her lap. He moved even closer and wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re gonna be the mother of my child, y/n. That is literally the sexiest thing I could think of. I don’t hate your body. I love your body! And I’m so sorry I haven’t been showing you that. I thought that by showing you how much the baby meant to me that I was showing you how much you mean to me. I understand now that it needs to be seperate a little bit, that you’re still a person too. These are the last months we’re ever gonna have to ourselves, and I should be cherishing the hell out of you. I’m just--shit I’m sorry, okay?”

He tugs at a strand of her hair, and she peers up at them with those big ass eyes and he just falls all over again. He means every word, and he means it more when she looks at him like that. When he pokes at the dimples in her cheeks and she finally smiles, he feels accomplished in life.

“Why didn’t you just say that a fuckin month ago.” She whined.

He snorted softly. “Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t keeping you satisfied a month ago?”

“Excuse me?! I tried! I practically begged your ass. What did you want me to do, get on my knees?”

“Well it wouldn’t have hurt.” He joked.

Something in her broke. Maybe not in that moment. Maybe it was the time her blatter turned to the size of a pea, or when her breasts turned into over abused punching bags from hell. Regardless in that moment she seemed to think of nothing more reasonable in the world than twisting his nipples. And thus she did. And thus he was in pain.

“Y/n what the fuck!” He cried covering his chest. “That hurt!”

“Haha motherfucker!”

Wow.

“I’m pregnant, dammit; I cannot be held accountable for my actions.” She shrugged.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed. “How much longer are you going to be pregnant?”

“You did this to me! You and your fucking ‘holier than thou dick’ that just had to bring another child into this fucked up world. Deal with it, alright?”

“You’re...so scary. Can we please stop fighting now? I don’t like it.”

He tucked her into his side hugging her tightly against his body. She hid her face in his neck and he could smell the scent of lavender and cocoa butter. And his heart felt like it expanded against his ribcage. How dare she ever think he couldn’t be attracted to her. He was obsessed with her. Had been since he laid eyes on her.

“Can you just kiss me for once? And not my stomach. Me.” She whispered.

He reached for her face, fingers tracing at the shape of her jaw as he pulled her close. He poured himself into the kiss as much as he could. She’d always been an incredible kisser, always gave just as much as she received. He knows that he’s got her, when she does this little whimper and her shoulders relax. He kisses her with tongue and with his teeth and with his hands on the back of her neck. Granted it’s a kiss they haven’t shared for some time now, but it’s still one he’s always willing to give her.

She’s the first one to pull away and it’s only because she’s out of breath. He presses his forehead against hers and smiles a little dopely.

“I love you.” He mumbled. “Always. Please believe me?”

“I believe you. I do.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

“What are we gonna name ‘em?” Shawn asked.

It was on a random Tuesday dinner date. You tried to go out and spend time together outside of the house whether it was bowling or food or random art fairs. You prefered the food ones obviously.

“Huh?” You asked over your pasta.

“The baby? We never really discussed it.”

Shawn reached for his pellegrino, because if you weren’t drinking he sure as hell wasn’t, as you took a second of pause. You’d unanimously decided not to know the sex assigned at birth until...well the sex was assigned at birth. It meant a lot to you, to try not to enforce gender norms as much as you could, and Shawn was just as supportive if not more after growing up being called a girl for five years when he decided he wanted to sing.

“Hmmm I guess you’re right. Anything in mind?”

“Shawn Jr sounds good to me.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else in mind?”

“...I really like the name Penelope. I think it’s cute. Or, Isabella maybe? We could call her Izzy.”

“You think we’re having a girl, aye?”

His cheeks turned red and you remembered that you loved him more than anyone could ever love.

“N--No. I just...you know I’d love any baby in the world that we made.I just certainly would not be mad if that baby happened to be a little girl.” He shrugged.

“And you don’t think that it will be too much estrogen? Too much femininity around you for the rest of time? Periods and uncontrollable emotions and what not?”

He rolled his eyes. “What is it the seventies? You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. The strongest people I’ve ever met are always women. I’d be lucky to live in a house where we get to raise another one.”

You couldn’t help the smile that grew wide and full on your face. He was cute. And mature. And smart. You were kind of obsessed with him. And still...where did he come from?

“Penelope, aye?” You hummed.

His eyes widened and he smiled nodding in that very goofy way of his that had his curls flopping this way and that.

You loved him far too much for your own good.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

8 months. 8 months of buying a new bed because the old one made her back hurt. 8 months of baby proofing a house that was suddenly way too big. 8 months of pancake runs at two in the morning. 8 months of massaging her feet for forty minutes because every time he touched them she grew physically repulsed by the thought of someone touching her feet. 8 months of some of the most trying arguments they’d ever had. Yes, choosing between lavender and grey or yellow and grey as a color scheme can wind you up sleeping in the guest bedroom. Who would’ve thought that the greatest argument they would ever have would be over her working? Oh wait, literally anyone but his moronic ass. Of course.

“Babe, the tension in your shoulders is insane.” He grumbled digging into her back. “I really think it might be time to start slowing down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Slowing down, eh? And just where do you want me to slow down Shawn? You already do everything. I haven’t been allowed to do laundry since I could no longer see my toes because of my belly and not my boobs for once.”

“I think...I think maybe we should broach the topic of you taking some time off work again.”

“Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not taking time off.”

He sighed. “Honey, your job offers 15 weeks of paid leave. We don’t even have that much time left at this point. And even if it wasn’t paid leave, I am an actual millionaire. The baby is going to be here soon. Maybe you should rest yourself while you can.”

She tugged her way out of his arms, flustered and frustrated immediately. He could feel even more tension coming off of her. It was the absolute opposite of what he wanted, but with y/n it was also sort of inevitable.

“I don’t need rest, Shawn! It’s not about the money; it’s the principle. You think my mother took maternity leave when she was raising four kids with a husband who was a filthy drunk?”

He scooted a little closer and reached for her hands, fingers intertwining stubbornly. But she’s got that furrow in her brow, and that firm set of her lip that she always gets when they fight. And he hates it because she still wants to kiss her and it always makes his brain very confused in these moments.

“Your mother was in a completely different situation! We are extremely privileged and extremely lucky to bring a kid into this world in the healthiest way that we can. I want you to be the healthiest that you can. Now you have fought me every step of the way, but please just--can we please just look at how many hours your putting into this place?” He huffed. “Because whether you want to believe or not, when we’re parents you’re going to have to cut back regardless.”

“Cut back?” She asked softly.

His person had the ability to be more terrifying than a hitman sometimes. This was most definitely one of those moments.

“I have to cut back? What the fuck are you going to be doing, aye? Are you cutting back, Shawn? Are you gonna stop touring? Stop doing promo tours for weeks at a time? Why does the woman always have to cut back?! How fucking dare you.”

“This is not that! Don’t make it out to be some attack against your womanhood. You’re pushing a human being out of your hips, y/n! I get a cold and I’m down for a week, one might think that BIRTHING A HUMAN deserves some recovery time!”

“It’s my fucking body! Why don’t you let me decide me what the hell I do with it, aye?!”

“Because if I left it up to you, you’d be working more than an eight year old in a sweatshop in Taiwan! It’s not just your body anymore. We’re about to be parents, y/n. Every decision we make has to have another human at the core of it. We don’t get to come first anymore. Not our careers, not our wants, none of it. You working your body into the ground isn’t an option!”

When her eyes well up it’s the worst thing ever. The amount of time he spent trying to balance her emotions was enough for him to recognize when he was doing a really shitty job at it. Not that it changed how he felt. Y/n was the hardest working person he’d ever met. She worked harder than he did, and that was saying something. She was so important to him though. He didn’t quite know how to explain that as much as the baby mattered, as much as the baby was already infinitely important, the baby wasn’t there yet. All he had was his person, his love, his light. And he’d do anything in the world to protect her. Anything.

“Great so… I am a shitty mother already and apparently a shitty person.” She mumbled tears dripping over her cheeks. “I’m really glad we had this talk. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Y/n. Y/n, baby please. Please just let me talk to you.” He begged. “That is not what I’m saying and you know it.”

Even with her adorable pregnant waddle and her hands up on her lower back to support herself, she gets to the bathroom and locks it before he can get to her. Which just leaves him on the other side of the door calling out for her.

“Sweetheart, please open the door! I--I didn’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk like adults, okay? I just, I’m worried about you and I want you to be safe.”

The water turns on to the bathtub instead of the shower and he knows he’s in for the long haul tonight. He’d be lucky if she came out of there by the weekend.

*Four hours later*

He’s woken up by the door opening. He must have fallen asleep against it because he nearly falls when she opens the door. Not that that mattered in the slightest to y/n who simply stepped over his body and kept it pushing. She gets dressed in their closet in silence. Doesn’t acknowledge him in the slightest. It’s like walking on eggshells. And he honestly doesn’t mind. Her emotions had been out of whack for the duration of her pregnancy. If she needed to be mad at him, that was okay. He just couldn’t go to sleep without letting her know that he loved her. It was their thing. No matter how angry, how annoyed, how tired. They had to tell each other they loved each other every night.

He finds her in their closet, big t-shirt stretched over her stomach with her belly button sticking clear out. When he makes eye contact with her, she immediately looks away.

“Move, Shawn.”

He moved his arms to either side of the doorway, only blocking her further.

“No. Not until you tell me you love me.”

Her eyes turned to slits. “Excuse me? That’s not fair and you know it.”

“What’s not fair y/n? Asking you tell me you love me? Are you really so angry with me you can’t say it, cause if so I think that’s something I deserve to know.”

She tugged at her hair, fingers knotting in the strands anxiously.

“I just don’t want to be pressured into saying it. Is that too much to ask?”

He bit his lip stepping closer so that her stomach was pressed to his.

“But...we never go to bed without it. I’m not saying we need to fix it all tonight. I’m saying, I just want the love of my life to assure me a little that we’re still in this together. Is that too much to ask?”

She rolled her eyes so hard he worried they might pop out of her head. And then she pushed forward, knocking him out of the way so that she could get out of the closet.

“I love you. And I am pissed at you. And I don’t want to speak to you for the rest of the night.”

He knew he was in deep shit when her body pillows had been stacked into a literal barrier between his side of the bed and her’s. She always let him hold her at night. She said the baby tended to sleep closer to him, as if they knew their daddy was close by. It was the sweetest thing in the world anyone had ever said to him. He cried for like an hour over it. Now he was left staring at a pillow that entirely covers his person. Wonderful.

***

*three days later*

He’s at the gym with his trainer trying to push out his fifth mile when his phone rings. It’s summer in Toronto and his view of the sun from the gym is just enough to keep him motivated to keep running. His air pods are already in so he takes the call trying to push through the wall that says, “ five miles is dumb, please stop”. His phone is still in his pocket, so he doesn’t get to see who the number is before he answers.

“Hello, is this a Mr. Shawn Peter Raul Mendes?”

“This is he.” He huffed, stilling running.

“Sir, I have you listed as the emergency contact for a Ms. y/f/n y/l/n. Your wife was admitted to St. Joseph’s Health Centre this afternoon. She--”

“Y/n?! W--What happened?! Is she okay?”

He went to jump get off the treadmill, tripping just enough on the mat to send him scraping against the machine with his shin. It doesn’t matter though, he’s up immediately. Nothing else matters in that moment. He doesn’t even tell his trainer goodbye, is already running to find his keys before the voice on the phone can even get a word in.

“Sir, she experienced a fall at work it seems. The doctors are running tests to check on your wife’s pregnancy as we speak.”

“I--I’m on my way! I’m coming right now!”

It’s a thirty-six minute drive to the hospital from his gym and his heart is racing the entire time. He stupidly tries to call her phone only for it to go to voicemail five times over. His hands tremble against the steering wheel so bad he’s afraid he might crash. It doesn’t occur to him to call his parents, call her mom, call anyone. He just has to get to her. He really needs to get to her.

He almost left the keys in the ignition, car still running, and had to run back to get to them. It only eats up more time. He still has zero idea how serious things are and there are a million and one thoughts of how bad it could be running through every nerve ending in his body. He needs her. He needs to see her. Now.

“I--I’m here to see y/f/n y/l/n?!” He gushed at the desk, his heart rampant in his sturnemum. “Please. Please it’s my person. She’s my person I--I have to see her.”

“Sir. Calm down. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” The nurse shushed.

He shook his head voice on the cusp of begging. “Ma’am, please. Please just take me to see her. You--You called and said that she was in pain, that she fell. She’s pregnant. Please, ma’am just tell me where she is?”

“Okay now just take a deep breath. What’s the last name again?”

“y/l/n!” He replied impatiently, no breaths to be taken.

Her fingers begin working on the keyboard, and he nestles his fingers along the swallow necklace he still wore to try and calm himself down. It didn’t work.

“And sir what is your relationship to the patient? Are you her husband?”

“I--I...she’s my person. We’re not married, but we’ve been together for over six years.”

“Are you her emergency contact? You’re not technically immediate family, sir.”

It’s definitely not a great moment for him. Y/n is hurt and no one can seem to tell him anything that isn’t prolonging his eyes being on her. He’s frustrated and his blood is rushing through his ears. He’s terrified. Actually terrified. And this just happens to be the straw to break the Canadian kindness’ back.

“I am the only goddamn family that matters! Now you called me. She’s in pain. She’s hurt. You called me, and I need to see her. She’s holding our baby and I want to see my person! Now dammit!”

*y/n’s point of view*

There is something truly remarkable about the way he runs into the room. Maroon nike running shorts. Tube socks. Head band firmly in place. There is blood running down his leg and he looks as scared as you felt that morning. Something about seeing him run into your hospital room with some tiny woman chasing him with a clipboard of paperwork is actually the funniest thing you may have ever seen in your life. So, excuse you if after a somewhat tragic day you can’t help but giggle in the face of his fear.

“Are you okay?! Are you okay? Oh my god, let me hold you.” He sighed taking you into his arms immediately.

Your giggles died down as he quickly began to inspect you with cautious, tear glazed eyes. His palms cupped your cheeks, his lips frantic against yours, and still not stopping there. He touched you everywhere. His fingers dipped hesitantly over your shoulders and down to your stomach cupping it softly. You pressed your forehead against his and breathed deeply as each of you let a few tears escape. It had been an event free pregnancy all things considered, and a scare now was perhaps the worst thing imaginable for the two of you.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. “I--Is the baby okay? Please talk to me.”

“We’re okay.” You assured him. “Everything’s okay.”

When his lips find yours a second time, it’s a lot less frantic and a lot more loving. You tuck yourself into his hold, fully content with the way he’s breathing life back into your being. His tongue teases your bottom lip and it all feels better instantly. He does a familiar dance of rubbing your thighs in his too large hands, and you practically purr. And then the doctor clears her throat.

“So sorry to interrupt!” She smiled. “I’m Dr. Cohen.”

Shawn pulls away with a bit of a huff, his entire body still blocking you from view from anyone else. It’s possessive and needy and everything you could ever ask for.

“I think we have to get a marriage lisence, or I might actually have to commit murder.” He grunted.

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you just propose to me? Also why are you bleeding?”

“Maybe. Probably.” He shrugged. “I fell on the treadmill when I got the call. Needed to get to you. The nurse assumed I was your husband because I’m your emergency contact, but when I got here and she realized the last names were different, she didn’t want to let me get to you.”

Another giggle passes through your lip. Of course this was the love of your life. An actual, genuine fucking dork. Thank god.

“Let’s unpack that later.”

“Okay.”

Shawn refused to take the seat that Dr. Cohen offered him, choosing instead to squish beside you on the examination table, hands touching or rubbing some part of you at all times. You don’t mind. After the morning you had, you thought maybe being in his arms forever was all you needed.

“Alright, Mr. Mendes. Your wife wanted to wait for your arrival to discuss what happened.” She explained. “She fainted in the middle of a meeting at work. Luckily a coworker was able to catch her and help her in time, so that no damage was done to the baby.”

He immediately looked worriedly over at you, his eyebrows and forehead wrinkled as he squeezed tenderly at your fingers.

“W--Why though? She’s never fainted before. Not once. Is it the baby?”

Dr. Cohen smiled reassuringly. “So, technically, yes it is the baby. But neither the baby or y/n are in any danger. What happened to you is actually fairly common. Basically what’s happening is that your blood vessels are widening and relaxing so that enough blood can get to your baby to keep them healthy. Really helpful for the baby, but it takes a longer trip now to get back to mommy. Usually this just means a little dizziness, but y/n in your intake paperwork it says you had been leading a workshop at the time you fainted is that correct?”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Yes. I’m always in charge of training our new higher level managers who come in.”

“Mhm. And how long were you on your feet in the midst of this training?” She asked.

“I--I don’t know. Maybe one and a half, two hours? Why?”

“Because the longer you’re on your feet? Especially without movement, the worst the circulation of blood becomes. What probably happened is that you first started to experience some dizziness, but maybe you fought through that. These aren’t really the type of symptoms to fight through though. You needed to rest.”

There’s an image somewhere in the film of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It’s the moment where the grinch comes up with his evil plan to steal happiness and joy from all those around him. He smiled a smile that pulls at all of his features squishing his face into this truly horrid little grin. This. This is the smile that Shawn gave you in this moment. The smile of a man who was finally right about something for once. The bastard.

“Wait, I am so very sorry,” Shawn interrupted. “Are you saying that all she needs to do is rest?”

You turned to him with a look so hot you could feel it sizzle in your eyeballs. You had still not exactly forgiven him for the last time you had this conversation. He was walking on thin ice.

Dr. Cohen nodded. “Yes, I am. Typically at this point in the third trimester, especially depending on the patient? I don’t even recommend for my patients to take the stairs, let alone work ten hour days. Y/n I’m afraid if I have any recommendation for you it’s going to be bed rest. I can write a letter for your work if need be, but with your high position in the company I doubt that would be necessary..”

It’s like your stomach just drops. With one month left in your pregnancy you didn’t even know how to go about not working. Working gave you purpose outside of being pregnant. It was what got you through the long days. You didn’t know how to take a break anymore than you knew how to stop loving Shawn and we all know how well that went the one time you gave it a shot.

“B--Bed rest? Like I can’t leave my own fucking bed? I--I’m not broken here!”

“Honey,” Shawn sighed taking your hand in his. “It’s alright, okay? Just let the doctor explain.”

Dr. Cohen smiled softly. “I understand. I know the prospect of taking time for yourself is hard. They had to pull me out of the hospital when my first was born, literally. But in these final weeks I want you to think about yourself for just a moment. There’s no harm in taking a rest, y/n. You’re about to be a mother for the rest of your life, believe me when I say these days to yourself will be magical, okay? I know it’s hard, but I need you to do it. For yourself and for the baby.”

And that ladies and gentlemen is how you ended up in your house on a Thursday afternoon lying in bed like you were on the verge of death, while your dumbass smirked at you like you didn’t know how to kill a man with a remote. It was actually your definition of hell. Sitting there wondering what the idiots at work were doing, who was fucking up what, and who was going to add more work to your plate for when you got back. You hated it. But what you hated even more was the image of Shawn walking slowly into your bedroom with a cup of chamomile tea to make sure it didn’t get spilled. You hated the way he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on. And you hated the way that your body just completely gave into him because how could you ever want or need anything else with him beside you?

“I’m sorry you can’t work until the baby’s born, sweetheart. I know how important it is to you.” He hummed tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You snorted. “What happened to all the excitement you had at the doctor’s office?”

“I’m excited you’re safe, and that I get to spend time with you relaxing until the baby comes. I’m not excited that you’re upset, honey. I could never feel that way.”

You bit your lip softly and nuzzled a little closer to your person.

“Relaxing?”

He nodded with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere. I thought we could...visit my parents? Maybe ride up to Vancouver for a weekend? There’s this cabin Brian and I went to once in Whistler when I was young and stupid with my money, but it’s just as beautiful in the summer as it is in the winter. I’ve got plans. I don’t expect you to stay bedridden until you give birth, my love.”

“That actually sounds really nice.” You giggled.

“Yea? Can we give it a shot?”

“Yea, Why not?”

“Good. Come kiss me already.”

Finally.

***

Leave it to your kid to come out in Pickering, Ontario of all places. Shawn had kept true to his word. No label meetings, no photoshoots, do endorsement deals until after the baby was born. And it was perfect. You cooked together and watched movies together and went on walks and to the beach. He took pictures of you for no other reason than to remember your time together. It was a moment of serenity, of reflection, and of love.

That night, he sat beside you in bed and rubbed cocoa butter over your belly just like always, kissed your stomach and sang the baby to sleep just like always.When it was time for the two of you to go to bed, he ran his thumb along your cheek and kissed you goodnight.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. “I can’t wait to spend forever together.”

You smiled and kissed at his thumb upon your cheek.

“Me neither. Kinda weird. I can’t believe we made it all this way.”

“But we did. It was meant to be. And we worked damn hard for it.”

You fall asleep, like you did most nights now, with Shawn’s wrapped around you and your handy dandy pillow below your lower back. It’s just like every other night. Until it isn’t…

*four hours later*

“Baby….Sweetheart ...Y/N!!”

“What. What is it?” You muttered still very much asleep.

“I think you peed the bed, honey.” Shawn whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open in the dark and there was the love of your life, People’s sexist Man Alive three years ago, saying that you had essentially pissed yourself. And they say romance isn’t dead?

“Are you fucking kididng me?” You huffed. “Oh my god that’s so fucking embarassing.”

He went to reach for you only for you to pull away. The last thing you needed was for him to help you out of a puddle of your own urine. Jesus Christ.

“Sweetheart, It’s okay. I--I don’t care. You know I don’t care.”

You leaned up out of bed and all of sudden there was a pretty bad pain in your stomach that left you a bit winded and unable to get up.

“Well shit, that fucking hurts.” You whined.

Shawn flicked on the light on the bedside table.

“What hurts?”

You took a deep breath like your doctor instructured.

“Fucking contractions are starting up again.”

The room goes silent as you breathe through the pain. It lasts far longer than you’re used to and hurts like a bitch, but with the breathing technique it isn’t unbearable. And then...he loses his fucking mind.

“OH MY GOD!”

“What?! Why are you yelling?!” You gasped.

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY. OH MY GOD. HOLY SHIT!”

He went to stumble his way out of bed, only to fall flat on the floor. That didn’t stop him from jumping right up and running around in circles. You know? Like a lunatic? So much for the lamaze classes.

“Shawn. Shawn! SHAWN! Calm the hell down.” You yelled rubbing at your belly.

“Sweetheart it’s your water. It’s your water, not piss. We’re having a fucking baby!”

“Excuse me, I’m aware! It’s inside of me. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Go wake your parents, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

Shawn nodded taking some deep breaths of his own before turning to wake his parents. You barely rolled over like a bowling ball on the bed before he was back, this time a lot calmer thankfully. He reached straight for your face, warm hands stilling you instantly as he kissed you like you were all that mattered.

“I love you. We’re gonna have a baby.” He whispered, a smile so big on his face that it felt like it radiated within you.

“We are.” You chuckled. “I love you too.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Something shifts drastically in the car. In the house, he could barely tell she was in labor except for every few minutes when she would have contractions. By the time the doctor told them to head to the hospital it was three in the morning. His dad drove, mum in the passenger seat. It meant he got to sit in the back with her and hold her hand, rub at her back, whisper how much he loved her even. And for a while it was fine. But then all of a sudden hell descended on earth and it was fully and deeply embedded in the love his life.

She let out a sound that was maybe the most painful sound he’d ever heard in his life. It was high pitched and bone deep and it rang out so loud his ears hurt. But that was nothing in comparison to the feeling of the bones in his hand crushing beneath her grasp.

“Ow! Oh my--Fuck! Sweetheart my hand!”

“I’M DYING! FUCK YOUR HAND!” She cried. “AHHHHHHHHHH!!

A vein appeared deep in the middle of her forehead as she sobbed and panted against the back seat. It was as hard to watch as it was to let her break every single bone in his goddamn hand.

The last thing he remembered before they got to the hospital was her turning to him, cheeks tear stained, and lips panting as she told him:

“Shawn?”

“Yes, honey? What can I do? Is there anything I can do?”

She nodded her head softly and swallowed.

“Yes. You can absolutely never fucking touch me again!”

His mum thought it was particularly funny if her snorts from the front seat were anything to go off. His fragile, overworked heart did not think it was so funny.

“Yes. Okay. Never touching you again. Got it.” He mumbled continuing to rub at her back.

He was certainly in for a night.

It takes twelve hours to bring their baby into the world. And they’re the longest hours of his life. He had to watch her be in pain, watch her struggle and flail and cry, all while knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He hated every second of it. It was the most helpless he’d ever felt. His parents were amazing running off to make calls to the rest of their family, which left him directly by her side. He would’ve stayed another twelves hours too if that’s what it took. Anything for her. Anything.

Another one of those moments that he’d be able to recall on the last of his life is the moment he heard his child cry for the first time. It was as if his center of gravity shifted. He was completely and utterly transfixed. He changed instantaneously in that moment, never to be the same again. It was one of the most magical moments of his life.

They go to lay the baby on her chest, y/n exhausted and red faced and so utterly happy, and his heart sores.

“This is your little baby girl.” The doctor told them.

“Shawn. Look what we did.” y/n whispered. “Look.”

His hand covers her entire back. She’s tiny and crying and wiggly and slimy. She’s beautiful.

“That’s our baby.” He sniffled just in case it might not be true. Just in case someone might have to correct him.

It’s easily the greatest day of his life.

***

He doesn’t sleep. And how could he? There’s a human in his hands. A tiny human. One that squeals and yawns and flails. She’s already immediately like her mother. Can’t sit still even in sleep, though y/n was so exhausted that she hadn’t moved in hours. But that’s okay. Everyone’s okay.

At one point, she wakes up and he freezes. In every movie he’d ever seen this was the moment that surely his daughter would begin to scream her head off like a lunatic until she turned twelve. Not quite. Instead she peered up at him inquisitively with this sort of searching look, a knowing look. This too reminded him of his love, of his person. And so he loved her infinitely already.

“You’re so fucking small.” He whispered to himself. “Shit, I said fucking. Who are we kidding your mother is gonna make sure your first word is dumbass before I ever have anything to do with it.”

Her thumb was in her mouth and she flailed sporadically in his arms as if she wanted to explore the world already, as if his arms were too much containment already. He wondered if maybe she got that from him.

“Penelope Ivy Mendes. You’re gonna have the best life a baby could ever ask for.” He assured her. “Your mom is so smart. Like one of the smartest people ever. And she’s funny. And she’s pretty, you’re really pretty too by the way. She’s gonna teach you all sort of stuff. And I’m gonna teach you too. Wait till I play you your first John Mayor record. You’ll love it so much honey. I played Continuum for your mommy when I first met her when she definitely broke into my apartment. And I played it for you when you were in her belly. It’s the greatest album maybe ever. We’ve got so much to talk about.”

She listens to him speak with wide, gentle eyes. Her skin is warm and soft, and rubs gently at her cheek with his palm. He thought he’d be overwhelmed. Thought that he’d mess something up, or that his daughter wouldn’t like him straight from the womb. But, it’s not that way at all. He could talk to her for days, he thinks. Just him and his daughter and his person. His family.

Eventually she starts to cry because she’s only been alive like eight hours and that’s a lot to put on a kid.

“You tired of hearing me talk huh?” He cooed rocking her gently in his arms.

“Did it happen...Did you break her?” Y/n mumbled from her hospital bed.

He chuckled softly slowly slipping out of the chair to move closer to her.

“Look who’s awake. I don’t think so. The nurse said she’s gonna wanna eat like every one and a half hours. She’s like her papa already.”

“Oh wonderful. Give her to me?”

They pass her easily, Y/n lifting her hospital gown to let her little mouth go searching for her meal. With the baby preoccupied, he’s allowed to check up on his other human. She’s really beautiful to him, hair bed crazed, eyes still sleepy, cheeks a little rosy. Something about their daughter on her chest makes him overwhelmed with love though. It’s different. She’s different. Perhaps they both are.

“Are you okay?” He whispered cupping her cheek gently in his palm.

She leaned into his palm.

“‘M okay. Lots of pain though. Lots of soreness.”

“I’m sorry. I really hated watching you in pain. The whole baby part is really beautiful. But the labor part? Not so much. Want me to take the next one for us?” He joked.

Her eyes widened. “The first one isn’t a day old Shawn. My vagina is still bleeding, maybe we wait a few weeks.”

“Kidding, y/n. Totally kidding. I just want you to be healthy and safe and I want to hold you. Both of you.”

She smiled dopely up at him with eyes that he loved and lips that he loved and a heart that he loved with everything in him.

“Yea?”

“Yea. I love you more than anything.” He assured her, his eyes watering quickly. “So, so much.”

“I love you too. More than anything. Both of you.”

“And forever.”

“Forever.” She agreed.

That sounded plenty fine to him.

The End.

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phantombs · 4 years

Text

@luxinexitium (x):

he has always felt at home in the forest, surrounded by testaments to the longevity of life. living and dying—they’re just two points on a circle. from the earth everything arose, and to the earth it will return. where nature is free to bloom, it thrives. and where it is stifled, it finds a way. weeks have passed since his last venture outside of the city, but any and all worries are swift to fade the moment his feet find soft earth, twisting roots, and patches of wildflowers. one moment kyungsoo is ankle-deep in a creek, perusing for polished stones while making light conversation with a passing stranger. in the next, he’s running from something with the stranger in tow, then tumbling down a sharp drop and sporting what very well may be a sprained ankle.

whatever that was had lost them in the chase, leaving them in the hands of the forest as the sun dips low into the horizon. they’re losing light fast, and it feels like they’ve been walking in circles for hours. it definitely doesn’t help that kyungsoo can barely walk without support, which is only slowing them down. heart heavy with guilt, his habit of rambling about anything other than their current situation makes itself known. he’s been babbling about the pro’s and con’s of using swiss versus italian meringues when making génoise, but all it takes is two simple words to make him shut up. soon, his cheeks and the tips of his ears match the shade of pink that paints the sky. laughing nervously, kyungsoo adjusts his weight a little as they walk, trying not to lean against the stranger too much for fear of being even more of a bother.

“sorry. i just.. i don’t really know what else t’ talk about. we still can’t get any signal and nothing looks familiar and it’s getting dark and honestly i think i’m about to panic, so— sorry. i’m doing it again.”

“You are,” the stranger agrees, footsteps crunching the summer-sun-dried twigs.

Huh. Everyone’s a critic, aren’t they?

They continue hobbling through the thickets. Daylight is dimming low behind the horizon, chased by the creep of cold, brightening stars. Its pale fingers of amber light have dithered, too, gently trailing the gnarled bark of the towering willow trees, their bowed and wilting branches, before receding into the veil of growing shadow. Shadow. His company frets, and he supposes he’s ought to, because terror and nightmares love to stir in the dark.

So, Mr. Idle Talk, draped along his side, tries to ward his nerves with talk of meringue.

He doesn’t like meringue. “I don’t like meringue,” he answers, too.

Yes. Everyone’s a critic.

Critic hefts him up, then, a single, sure-footed tug as they felt him slipping. Ankle aching, nerves all a jumble, hair sticking all ways and dirt on his cheek— “I don’t like meringue, and you worry a lot. Too much,” Critic says, voice rumbling and gravel-rough. His gaze lingers on the distance. “You worry too much, jumping at ‘what ifs’ like shadows you think you see. ‘What if I’m a burden?’ ‘Did that willow just move?’ 'What if I’m bothering this man beside me?’”

...Well, that’s quite on the nose, but—

“You aren’t bothering me. And you aren’t a burden. Foolish. You weigh nearly nothing. What chased you wouldn’t eat you.”

And that, in its own strange, unorthodox way, may have been something close to reassurance.

Soon, they step over a tree root, and he says ‘careful’ as they near the tinkling sound of a coursing stream. He keeps his gaze on the trees, following moss and instinct. “It’ll age you, you know, worrying so much. Your eyes are pretty. It’ll be a shame. You’ll get crow’s feet about them, a crease between your brows.”

#luxinexitium #ty!!!! i went and continued your answer : )#ur guys just fretting so much and rightfully so and cuong?#cuong is just Putting Him On Blast right away #its sadly just how he is tm.#say something innocuous and suddenly cuong wont let him live apparently

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guernsey-island · 4 years

Note

Please answer 1-98 >:3

Weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? water bottles 2. chocolate bars or lollipops? chocolate bars 3. bubblegum or cotton candy? cotton candy, though I don't like either very much 4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? I don't know 5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? plastic cups??? 6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? sportswear I guess 7. earbuds or headphones? I only have earbuds right now, but I like both 8. movies or tv shows? tv shows, but that doesn't mean I don't like movies too 9. favorite smell in the summer? the ocean 10. game you were best at in p.e.? capture the flag 11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? whatever I can find 12. name of your favorite playlist? "Good Songs :D" 13. lanyard or key ring? key ring 14. favorite non-chocolate candy? I don't particularly like any non-chocolate candy. Too artificial and sweet :/ 15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes 16. most comfortable position to sit in? leaning back and with my legs out 17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? white converse 18. ideal weather? raining or a mild temperature like 80 degrees F paired with high humidity 19. sleeping position? I fall asleep on my side and wake up on my back 20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Google docs heheh 21. obsession from childhood? I was one of those warrior cats kids (no, I didn't pretend to be warrior cats at recess) 22. role model? Snickers 23. strange habits? popping my back, checking sunset/sunrise times 24. favorite crystal? all crystals are great 25. first song you remember hearing? Counting Stars by OneRepublic 26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? hiking 27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? reading 28. five songs to describe you? Modern Loneliness- Lauv // Scared of Heights- Loving Caliber // backpack- slchld // By Now- Will Jay // Come True- khai dreams, Forrest., Biskwiq 29. best way to bond with you? don't annoy me 30. places that you find sacred? the beach when no one is there or deep in the mountains 31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 32. top five favorite vines? road work ahead, jared 19, damn daniel, 2 bros chillin in a hot tub, x files theme 33. most used phrase in your phone? probably >:3 34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? that spotify ad about peter and jumping/skipping rope. IF you knew what an 8track tape was!! 35. average time you fall asleep? ~2:30am 36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? the pepe the frog memes 37. suitcase or duffel bag? suitcase 38. lemonade or tea? lemonade but tea is also superb 39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? lemon cake bc I've never had lemon meringue pie 40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? I don't really remember. Let's go with Mr. Rightmyer and Mr. Mikow in general (ig matrix_multiplication). or maybe the time Sami put a lamp on her head and pretended to be Shaggy 41. last person you texted? Snickers 42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? jacket pockets 43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? hoodie 44. favorite scent for soap? hmmm something tropical 45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? sci-fi 46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? clothing 47. favorite type of cheese? swiss or colby jack or parmigiano-reggiano 48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? peaches bc they're the best fruit 49. what saying or quote do you live by? "you become what you think about" "success is the progressive realization of a worthy goal or ideal"- Earl Nightingale "the opposite of courage is not cowardice, it is conformity" "sanity and happiness are an impossible combination"- Mark Twain "If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading"- Lao Tzu "failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough" - Og Mandino 50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? let's go with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TilHylia7rE and more recently, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voncdcV648g 51. current stresses? upcoming exams, writing essays 52. favorite font? My current favorites are Frank Ruhl Libre, Overlock, and Rajdhani 53. what is the current state of your hands? good, though I perpetually have a bump on one finger from writing too much 54. what did you learn from your first job? job?? what job? 55. favorite fairy tale? three little pigs 56. favorite tradition? sleeping 57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? I don't know 58. four talents you’re proud of having? Freestyling (ground moves and juggling), shooting knuckleballs, popping my back really well, running a 5-6 minute mile 59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? I don’t know what my catchphrase would be 60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? a shonen where the protagonist is trying to survive in a crazy world, become the best at something, or master some special power (examples: tower of god or solo leveling if it was an anime) OR something with a mafia 61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? "Well, if you only knew how little I really know about the things that matter"- Elio in cmbyn the movie (think about this quote all the time) "Let us cultivate our garden"-Candide in Candide by Voltaire “The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.”- Sinclair in Demian by Hermann Hesse “I wanted only to live in accord with the promptings which came from my true self. Why was that so very difficult?”- Sinclair in Demain by Hermann Hesse “Know yourself and go in swinging.”- More than this by Patrick Ness “Just leave me alone. I’m not myself. I’m falling apart, and I don’t want you here.”- Charlie in Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes Tons of quotes and references from Arthur, httyd, and other media 62. seven characters you relate to? Lance (vld), zuko (atla), okonkwo (things fall apart), nwoye (things fall apart), bokuto (haikyuu), sinclair (demian), hiccup (httyd) 63. five songs that would play in your club? Wednesday Girl- Elijah Who, Aso, Peachy!, Kudasaibeats, slchld // Way Back Home- SHAUN, Conor Maynard, Sam Feldt // Let Me Down Slow (Acoustic)- New Hope Club // Crush Culture- Conan Gray // All Night Long- TAEYEON, LUCAS 64. favorite website from your childhood? animal jam 65. any permanent scars? I have a ton of scars on my legs and knees. I ran into a cart at staples once and have a big scar from that. I have a few scars on my elbows too 66. favorite flower(s)? columbine (CO state flower) 67. good luck charms? none 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? I have no idea 69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? I don’t know 70. left or right handed? right 71. least favorite pattern? cheetah or zebra print 72. worst subject? hmmm biology but only bc I don't put in the effort 73. favorite weird flavor combo? I don't know. I like food 74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I don't think I've experienced enough pain to accurately answer this question. I've only taken ibuprofen once (when I got my wisdom teeth taken out), but I didn't think it was that necessary to take 75. when did you lose your first tooth? probably when I was six 76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? scalloped potatoes, hash browns, Spanish tortillas, potato salad, mashed potatoes 77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? aloe vera 78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? sushi from a grocery store 79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? school ID 80. earth tones or jewel tones? earth tones 81. fireflies or lightning bugs? they're called fireflies 82. pc or console? pc 83. writing or drawing? writing 84. podcasts or talk radio? podcasts 84. barbie or polly pocket? no 85. fairy tales or mythology? mythology 86. cookies or cupcakes? cookies 87. your greatest fear? Accidentally biting off my tongue and then choking on it, seeing things in mirrors, being stabbed with a knife as I enter a hotel elevator, receiving emails 88. your greatest wish? Happiness??? I don’t know 89. who would you put before everyone else? Snickers 90. luckiest mistake? I don't know 91. boxes or bags? boxes 92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? sunlight 93. nicknames? let's not talk abt that,,, 94. favorite season? spring or summer 95. favorite app on your phone? google play books, goodreads, tumblr, kakaotalk, spotify, google keep 96. desktop background? it's a slideshow. the background at the moment is a photo of Manarola, Italy taken by Peter Hegedus. It's one of my favorite photographs of all time 97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? three not including 911 (so four) 98. favorite historical era? 1300s in the Mongol empire or around when the spice trade was at its peak, 1800s in America during westward expansion, 1920s, ancient egypt, Harlem Renaissance

#ask #queen-defender-on-ice

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