#i have to bake cinnamon rolls for 30

[jadeblazeit]

This week is supposed to be relaxing. I told my therapist about everything going on rn and she told me to stop being logical and freak out if I need to. She said she was stressed hearing me talk about it.

#personal #dont reblog #my dad is dying and im seeing him for the last time this weekend #my biological father who is abusive wants to be a part of my life again #my bio father is completely blind now #im going to be spending the weekend with the person who assaulted me #im out of my medication #i have to bake cinnamon rolls for 30 #bake 100 cookies #bake 6 pies #my brain feels like mush

[dietmtdewbabynewyorkcity]

HOW I’VE BEEN SUCESSFULLY LOSING WEIGHT: Notes from a former binge eater ♥️

*this guide is to show how ~I~ do things and offer advice on how to do it MY way. I am in no way encouraging anyone to do themselves harm. First off,

HEALTH IS WEALTH.

That being said.. this is literally the longest I’ve ever gone without bingeing. It’s just,,, easy this time. Once you get a feel of what it’s like to be skinny you just don’t crave junk as much anymore bc you KNOW it’s not worth it. The trick is to eat clean 90% of the time and allow your favorite treats 10% do the time. Fit them into your calorie limit!!! Here’s some personal favorites that have helped me lose like 20lbs in the past 2 months.

I tend to do one higher- calorie drink during the day (protein shake, Starbucks, etc) and one healthy filling but low cal meal and a sweet snack at the end of the night.

LOW CALORIE 90%

Mediterranean salad (~150): mixed greens, chopped bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, red onion. Little bit of feta cheese. Balsamic vinegar (not dressing or vinegarette!!!!) I don’t add meat but you could totally add chicken for low cal high protein choice. You could also add olives but I don’t fw them.

Chocolate Protein shakes from the gas station (loll). They’re 220 cal on average and a great treat. Strawberry one is good too.

SEAWEED SNACKS they’re literally 30-60 calories for a pack and kill my urge to eat chips!!! Please give them a try!

Soups. Soups that are already portioned and have the calorie amount posted. I add extra seasonings and spice to boost metabolism.

Coffee!! With almond milk and a little coffee creamer. It’s worth the calories if you want a coffee just make one it’s better than going to Starbucks.

Sushi: I’m vegetarian so I get an avocado and cucumber roll. It’s so good with fresh ginger and a little soy sauce. Sometimes I will be craving it allllllll day and have it as my OMAD so rewarding 🥹

Miso soup>>>>>> add tofu and seaweed and onions!! And mushrooms if you like them.

Monster Ultra energy drinks,,,, yeah I know they’re bad for you but I love them.

Fruits!!! I especially love strawberries, watermelon, cherries, blackberries, pineapple and mangoes.

TREATS 10%

Trail mix: dried cherries, pecans, walnuts, pistachios, cashews. High in calories but perfect for killing hunger. High protein keeps you full and muscles strong, high healthy fats will keep your hair and skin and nails beautiful.

Chocolates: SMALL PORTIONS. if you can’t eat just eat a piece without bingeing, do NOT buy a big bag. what I do is I buy a bar of whatever chocolate I’m craving for my bf and we share it piece by piece. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white, hazelnut, with coffee beans, with toffee, fruits, chocolate is the best thing ever 🍫

Starbucks! My fav drinks are matcha lattes (hot/iced), iced white chocolate mocha, caramel macchiato, and occasionally a pumpkin spice latte. Peppermint mochas on the holidays. Oat milk always

Baked goods. Same deal as the chocolate, ONLY BUY THE PORTION YOURE GOING TO EAT. If you have been craving a croissant, go get one. One. Don’t buy a whole dozen of them. You will end up bingeing trust me. My favs are cinnamon rolls <3

Habits

I’m going to the gym!!! Consistently for the first time in my life. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. Spend 30 min on the treadmill alternating between incline walking and easy paced jogging. Put on a YouTube video. Wear pink and bring a cute water bottle. You have to make an experience out of it! I stick to cardio and full body stretches plus ocasional (light) strength workouts w my bf.

I don’t drink anymore. Just 🍃. Alc is so high in sugar and carbs and it’s literally poison bro. I know it’s hard to stop but once you do you’ll feel so much better.

I rarely weigh myself. I’m at my bfs house all the time so I only step on my scale maybe 3 times a month. It’s been a game changer!!!

MINDSET

I practice mindfulness and speak kindly to myself. Basically sweetspo + affirmations to myself all the time.

Taking more pride in your appearance will also help motivate you. You think you’ll still want to binge after you took a full body shower, clean PJ’s or outfit, painted your nails, skincare and makeup done, whitened your teeth and lit a candle? No thanks.

Limit stupid, negative, useless media consumption. Watch things that have to do with your hobbies/ interests and your social media algorithms begin to kinda clean themselves up over time. My pages are all about exercise, study blogs, beauty tips and sciencey stuff. No more drama or celebrity nonsense. Cut down your following!!

Remember you only have one life on earth. You’re young and hot once. Don’t you want to grab this chance while you have it? Unfortunately your beauty is your currency especially as a woman, so if there’s anything I can do to give myself a better life I will. Losing just a few pounds of fat will make the craziest difference in ways you’d never expect. Free and discounted stuff. More people smile at you and listen to what you have to say. Both literal and figurative doors will be opened for you.Clothes fit better bc they’re more flattering when your body is fit and healthy. While it feels good to get validation from other people, the best part of it is looking in the mirror and feeling proud instead of ashamed. The inner confidence that comes from successful transformation………….there’s no other feeling that compares. If you know, you know. I’m just saying,, the choice is yours 🤷🏼‍♀️

#tw ana fast #ed bllog #tw ana shit #tw ed rant #tw restriction #ana rant #ana trigger #ed di3t #i will be thinner #thinspø #low cal food #recipies #low cal restriction #low cal diet #tw ana diary #anablr #anami4 #edtwitter #ed tings #ed not ed sheeran #tw edd #skinnni #tw thinspi #thinps0 #thin$po #dieta ana #pr0ana diet

[sparkle-fiend]

Here is my entry for the Spicy Six Winter Fic Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair (thanks so much to you and @unclewaynemunson for the awesome events this month!) My prompt was “kiss in the snow”.

Eddie is ladling a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon, and mashed sweet potatoes into a baking dish when the phone rings. He nearly drops the bowl, hastily wiping the sticky orange mixture off his fingers before answering.

“Munson’s House of Holiday Horrors, Eddie speaking,” he intones cheerfully. Steve snorts with laughter on the other end of the line.

“What if it hadn’t been me calling?”

“It’s Christmas Eve Stevie, and everyone we know is out of town. Who else would be calling?” He knows the exact expression that will be on Steve’s face right now. He’ll be trying not to smile, which will twist his lips into a crooked little smirk instead. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite expressions. “How was work today?”

“Awful. Remind me never to agree to a holiday shift again. The Christmas movies were out of stock by 9, so I’ve had people screaming at me all day. Like I’m personally responsible for the fact that they waited till the last minute to try and rent the Grinch that Stole Christmas.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums sympathetically. “Poor baby. What time are you coming over?”

“The pie needs to cool another 30 minutes, then I’m leaving.”

They’d argued about the pie for days. Eddie insisted that he had enough dishes planned to feed a small army, while Steve insisted that he just had to bring a pecan pie (which, coincidentally, is Wayne’s favorite).

“You know – you don’t have to work so hard to impress him. Wayne already likes you.”

“Shut up,” Steve says. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

“See ya.”

They’re not quite to the point of exchanging I love you’s yet, even though it sits on the edge of his tongue every time they say goodbye.

Eddie hangs up the phone and turns to survey the chaos strewn across the kitchen. He’s got half an hour – 45 minutes with driving time. The sweet potato casserole has to be baked, and he still needs to finish two more dishes after that.

“Shit,” he mutters.

***

When Wayne ventures into the kitchen twenty minutes later to check on him, Eddie is frantically stirring sour cream and shredded cheese into the mashed potatoes.

“Christ almighty it’s hot in here. You’re sweatin’ like a hog.”

Eddie scowls and swipes at the hair sticking to his forehead. “Thanks Uncle Wayne.”

Unfortunately, his uncle’s not wrong. The kitchen is sweltering – not surprising, considering the stove and oven have been going all day – and Eddie’s shirt is soaked through. He desperately needs a shower, but he’s running way behind.

“Alright… what can I do to help?”

Eddie pauses long enough to fix his uncle with a skeptical look. “Are you forgetting the famous incident of the frozen turkey? Your cooking privileges have been permanently revoked.”

Wayne looks unimpressed. “Don’t you sass me. I can pull a goddamn casserole out of the oven.”

Eddie snickers and allows himself to be chased out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let that casserole burn!”

He takes the stairs up two at a time. It’s still a novelty, living in a house with a second floor – even after half a year. The water pressure is pretty awesome too, although he doesn’t take the time to enjoy it today. He rushes through a lukewarm shower, just enough to cool down and rinse the sweat off; throwing a clean shirt on when he gets out.

With hair still dripping, he thunders back down the stairs in time to see Wayne pull the casserole out, marshmallows browned to a perfect crust on top. His uncle watches in bemusement as Eddie covers the dish with aluminum foil and then hastens to dump frozen rolls onto a pan.

“What time is Steve supposed to get here?” Wayne asks.

Eddie doesn’t even dare look at the clock. “Any minute,” he says distractedly. He adjusts the oven temperature and shoves the pan in. He had a checklist, which is buried somewhere in the pile of used dishes and discarded packaging on the counter. He starts searching for it, shoving things aside in frustration, until he feels his uncle’s hands land heavy on his shoulders.

“Calm down, okay? Everything looks amazing. You’ve done a real good job Ed.”

The old man’s expression is unbearably soft when he turns around. Wayne looks at him like that all the time these days – ever since March, and that tense week in the hospital, when they weren’t sure if infection would finish the job the demobats had started.

It makes Eddie feel warm and awkward at the same time. He darts forward for a quick hug, pressing his face into the smoky flannel of his uncle’s shoulder, before stepping back and shoving the old man toward the door.

“Go on. Let me know when Steve gets here. And turn on the lights!”

***

Eddie loses track of time as he scrambles to finish – last minute tasks keep popping up every time he turns around. When he’s finally ready to call it done, he heads for the living room, expecting to find Steve and Wayne watching something on tv while they wait.

But it’s six o’clock, and there’s no sign of Steve. Wayne is standing against the big picture window, curtains shoved aside so he can look out.

“Hate to break it to ya Ed, but I’m not sure your boy is gonna make it. Snow’s really coming down out there.”

Eddie takes his uncle's place against the window, pressing his nose against the cold glass as he cups his hands to shield the glare. It's dark out, and the only thing illuminated by the porch light is a swirling wall of snowflakes. Judging by the snow already piled on the railing, it's collecting thick and fast.

"Shit," he mutters.

Concern immediately churns his stomach. If Steve left the house when he planned to, he should have arrived over half an hour ago.

Eddie goes to the phone on the end table by Wayne’s recliner, dialing the familiar number, hoping Steve decided to wait out the weather. The Christmas tree twinkles merrily in the corner; red, green, blue, and yellow lights reflecting off the silver tinsel while Eddie listens to the phone ring and ring - until the click of the answering machine picks up.

He hits the switch hook to end the call, re-dialing immediately. Ring, ring, ring and the click of the answering machine again.

He stays on the line long enough to hear the recorded voice of Steve’s father announce: “You’ve reached the Harrington residence. Leave a name, number, and brief message…” Eddie hangs up again with a frustrated growl.

Wayne watches with a worried frown. “You don’t think he would try to drive in this mess, do you? Not in that fancy car of his.”

Only someone who didn’t know Steve very well would ask that question. If Robin or Dustin were here, they’d already be suiting up for a search party.

Apparently, the expression on Eddie’s face is answer enough, because Wayne’s lips press into a thin line before he nods. “Right then. We’ll put the snow chains on the truck – as long as you go slow, you should be okay.”

They throw on coats and boots and a hat for Wayne, before trooping out into the whirling snow. Working in tandem, it only takes a few minutes to get the chains wrapped around the front tires of Wayne’s truck, latched and tensioned tight.

They agree that Wayne should stay behind in case Steve ends up calling after all, and then Eddie is off, pulling slowly down the drive.

The little house (part of a generous government settlement in exchange for their silence) is on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and cornfields – and no neighbors for at least ten miles. Which means the only light comes from the feeble beam of the truck’s headlights, struggling to penetrate the wall of snow. It’s like driving into a tunnel.

Eddie holds his foot tense above the gas pedal, giving it just enough juice to keep the old truck bumping along at a snail’s pace, listening to the chained tires grip and grind over the snow.

I never said ,‘I love you’, he thinks. I never said it. Steve could be dead or dying somewhere along the road, and the last thing Eddie ever said to him was, “See ya.”

It’s unbearable.

After a nerve-wracking 15 minutes, scanning and straining his eyes nearly to tears – Eddie finally spots a faint shape in the distance. Just the silhouette of a person, no car in sight.

It’s Steve. It’s gotta be.

He slams on the brakes – too hard. Even with the chains on, the old truck slides a few terrifying feet farther than intended. Heart pounding, Eddie throws it into park and wrenches the door open.

He hits the ground ready to run and nearly busts his ass as he sinks into snow over his ankles; staggering like a drunk toward the huddled figure of his boyfriend.

Eddie grips the other boy by the shoulders, eyes raking over him head to toe, searching for injuries. It’s hard to see – the headlights cast everything in sharp relief, full of shadow.

“Shit Steve… are you okay? I was so fucking worried, Jesus Christ.”

Steve pats his chest and laughs through the audible chattering of his teeth. “I’m f-fine Ed, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“What happened?”

“Deer ran out in front of me. T-tried to miss it and the Beemer spun off the road. Car’s fine, but it’s stuck in a ditch.”

Eddie huffs out a relieved laugh and squeezes his boyfriend tight. Just stuck in a ditch – thank god. They’re so lucky the accident wasn’t serious; and lucky that Eddie came looking before Steve froze to death trying to make the long, cold walk to the house.

He pulls back to gaze into those beloved brown eyes, brushing aside a swoop of hair stiff with ice.

“I love you,” Eddie says abruptly. His breath hangs like dragon-smoke between them. It’s not how he intended this moment to go, but he can’t keep it in any longer. “I was afraid to say it, but then… when I thought something might have happened to you, all I could I think was that I never told you how I felt.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I love you too.”

He laughs, giddy with relief, and cradles Steve’s jaw as he leans into a kiss. The world falls away - there’s nothing but Steve’s slightly chapped lips, warming slowly against his own, and the soft whisper of the snowflakes.

It’s perfect - until Steve shifts awkwardly and winces in pain.

“What the hell Steve, I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

Steve grins sheepishly and leans against Eddie, trying to take the weight off his left leg. “I said the car was fine. I twisted my knee trying to climb out of that damn ditch.”

“Goddamnit… is there anything else I should know?”

His boyfriend unzips his jacket, revealing a towel-wrapped disc tucked securely against his chest. “I saved the pie,” he says proudly.

“Jesus Christ.” Overwhelmed by affection, Eddie kisses Steve again; it’s either that or shake the mad bastard. “Come on… let’s get you and your stupid pie home before you both freeze.”

#lexswinterficchallenge #strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic #this was originally supposed to be a lot longer and more involved #but I wrote and scrapped like four different versions #and ended up with this #snuck in some art to make up for it

[nerdieforpedro]

A New Tradition with Frankie

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x GN reader

Fanfiction rating: Teens and up

My blog overall is 18+ MDNI

Masterlist / Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Summary: An adventure in baking leads to fun and laughter at your expense. But in the end, his smile is what matters.

Warnings: likely bad baking directions, jokes in very poor taste, cursing, Frankie having fun at your expense, domestic fluff

Notes: I wanted to give Frankie some fluff. In my previous Frankie Fridays, I've been having that man work through his trauma. He needed some pure fluff and laughs. I did look up how to make gingerbread cookies but unlike many of the wonderful baking posts by @avastrasposts I have no idea what I’m doing. 😆 I made a post yesterday about what my chocolate chip cookies looked like and I cannot be trusted with an oven.

Word Count: approx. 1.2K

The directions had been clear and you read them twice before starting. You even tailored your shopping list to them and had double checked you had all the ingredients two days ago. Why do they all look like piles of lumpy dirt?

Now the ginger, cinnamon, brown sugar, molasses give it the brown color which makes sense. The wet ingredients you added after the dry because that’s what they always did on one of your favorite shows ‘Nailed it!’ and you made fun of the bakers who dumped everything in at once. You swear you’re not like them. You promise. 

The dough sat in the fridge for two and a half hours. The minimum was two but you were checking emails on your phone and lost track of time. A rolling pin was bought for this, you hadn’t owned one, never needed one but you got one. A good one not from the dollar store, but from Target. Rolled out the dough, shaped the little gingerbread cookies, set the oven to 350 degrees and put them in, rotating them halfway so they would bake evenly. The cookies had been rising and rising and maybe they rose a bit too much, but maybe it would fall like a cake. They all rise and fall right?

But now, these cookies mock you, they’re huge, puffy, oblong. Not the cute circles you’d cut out less than 30 minutes ago. What can you do with them?

“Hermosa (gorgeous), I’m home. Benny lost to the Raz guy again. He’s really got to train harder.” Your husband walked in, setting his keys in the dish by the door and slipping his boots off. He was making his way to the kitchen. You threw a dish towel over the cookies in a vain attempt to hide them. He’s a pilot whose job it is to keep track of minute details that can disrupt a flight plan. You’re not hiding anything. 

“Hey Frankie. Benny lost again? Maybe he should take a break for a bit like you said.” You smiled, your fingers nervously tapping your thigh. He was scanning you and the room.

“Hermosa. What’s under the cloth? This isn’t the day you murder me for wearing shoes inside the house is it?” He laughed moving toward you and those abominations called cookies. 

“No. And I mention one time how I don’t like dirt tracked in the house and you go right to murder Morales. Jeez.” You crossed your arms in false offense before pulling him close to you by his arms. “You have to pay the toll, you know. Just gonna walk in this house and think you don’t. Mighty full of yourself sir.” You grinned and placed a soft peck on his lips. Frankie smiled and put an arm around your shoulders, deepening the kiss before stepping back, holding the dishcloth.

“I’m a man who pays his debts.” He took one look at the oversized cookies and doubled over in laughter. “Hermosa no, baby why? These are the gingerbread cookies you talked about? They look like…like..”

“Don’t say it…” You covered your ears. You’d hear him anyways, but it didn’t stop you from being mortified that he saw them and what you both knew they looked like.

“Like what came out of Santi’s dog after he gave him that kibble with the extra fiber..!” Frankie continued to bellow with glee, clumsy stepping back. Your hands went from your ears to your hips, face burning with annoyance but also glee that he was able to laugh so freely. It used to be difficult to get a chuckle out of the man when he wasn’t with his brothers in arms. 

“I used to like you Frankie. Damn it.” At this point, you’re biting your lips to hold back your own laugh. Morales is red in the face, starting to wheeze.

“Hermosa, you know I love you.” Despite his eyes starting to water, he’s stepping toward you, in an effort to get away from him, you move to the other side of the table when he easily uses his long legs to intercept and catch you from behind, nuzzling his chin in your neck while still chuckling. “I love you and your shity looking cookies.”

“You’re lucky, you’re cute and I’m a sucker for men who like my shity looking cookies.”

You finally gave in and giggled in his arms as he rocked you from side to side.

“Did you try them? Are they edible?” He asked, waddling back over to the cookies with you.

“I hadn’t tried them yet. I was so taken with what they looked like.” You admitted. 

The both of you agreed to break a cookie in half to try. Now standing side by side, you counted to three and bit into the cookie. It was warm, fluffy and actually tasted sweet. Like gingerbread.

“Damn mi vida (my life), they look horrible, but taste great. This is your first time making them right?” Frankie asked, chewing it and downed the other half. He kissed your forehead, leaving a few crumbs from his patchy beard which you brushed off your head. 

“Yeah. I wanted to try and make a tradition for us, and surprise you. I guess I did both. Not exactly how I planned though.” You finished your half of the cookie as well, licking your lips. Proud that you did at least make something that tasted good. In the midst of studying the cookies, you saw a glint of something. Turning, Frankie had pulled out his phone and was snapping pictures of the cookies. “Morales! Don’t you dare!” You lunged in an effort to grab his phone from him, he put his hands up and out of your reach.

“I gotta save the memory of these cookies! You understand mi vida?” That booming laugh of his returned as his hands snaked around your sides. You twisted your mouth, determined to let him know that you weren’t ok with him taking pictures of your baking disaster. But he was laughing so much more, more than he had been in months.

“Just don’t send them to the guys. Please Francisco.” His smile curved into a grin.

“I’m Francisco now? Well maybe I should, since I’ve been downgraded to Francisco.” He touched his prominent nose to yours, rubbing it slightly. It tickled and you drew back before rubbing yours against his. 

“I just called you by your name. I’m serious. Don’t. Benny still calls me Baby Legs from when I did shots with you guys.” Morales bites his bottom lips before digging his face into your shoulder, you feel the vibrations of his laughter on your skin.

“I know, I know.” He assured you when he picked his head back up, he put his phone in his pocket and placed his palm on your cheek. “Next time we’ll bake them together, alright mi amor (my love)? We’ll make it a tradition like you said.” You both took another look at the bloated cookies and laughed together, echoing so the neighbors could hear if they chose to.

Tag List:

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23 @linzels-blog @joelmillers-whore @guelyury @laurfilijames @missladym1981 @pamasaur @alltheglitterandtheroar @din-djarins-riduur @daddy-dins-girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl @saturn-rings-writes @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @undercoverpena @musings-of-a-rose @gnpwdrnwhiskey

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x gn!reader #Frankie morales fluff

[luv4aria]

warnings: cursing, slight bullying, degradation(reader degrades herself), and smoking..i think that’s it if there’s anything else lmkk

a/n: this is a long one um if you see any errors don’t be afraid to lemme know!! the needing is super rushed btw i just wanted to get this over with and i didn’t want to make ppl wait more than two days anywho i hope u guys enjoy!!

paring: fem!reader x modernau!sam monroe.

i woke up around 7:30..five more minutes wouldn’t hurt right. five minutes turned into 30 minutes. i checked my phone and it was “eight o’clock?!” i whisper-screamed. i only had thirty minutes to get ready.

i quickly got up and practically ran to my bathroom and began brushing my teeth. as i was brushing my teeth i thought to myself would i have time to shower? probably not so i’ll just shower when i get home makes more sense right? since im going to sam’s thing tonight. ugh sam the love of my lif- oh my god what am i thinking about right now i need to hurry up and get ready.

i did my skincare routine as quickly as i could. then i started debating if i should put on makeup or not. no. it was already what eight fifteen i had checked my phone. yeah no, i need to go get dressed, and that's exactly what i did. once i reached my room and opened my closet i threw on any shirt and skirt i could find and with that, i headed downstairs to my surprise, my mom had baked cinnamon rolls.

if there was one thing my mom was good at it was baking. let me tell you this. that woman is one hell of a baker. almost makes me wonder why she didn’t pursue a baking career. oh wait..she had me. my whole life she told me i was a mistake and that if she never got knocked up by my “deadbeat dad” her words not mine she would’ve become a baker. i think my dad is the only person that cared for me. i wonder what time my mom woke up in the morning to make these. it pained me to think that i was going to be the one to clean up this cinnamon mess. my mom never cleans up after herself. i cannot talk. have you seen my room it’s self-explanatory. were these cinnamon rolls even for me? oh well, it’s whatever. who makes cinnamon rolls and expects someone not to eat them.

i walked around the counter and grabbed a paper towel and then used my fingers to grab one cinnamon roll took a bite and then i headed straight for the door. as soon as i shut the door about to lock it then i realized i had forgotten my fucking backpack. i ran back inside at the speed of light. quickly going upstairs back into my room and grabbing my backpack then sprinting back downstairs towards the front door. i then shut it and began my walk to school as i walked to school i had already finished my cinnamon roll.

i checked my phone and it was eight twenty. thank god i wasn't late. the second i stepped into school i saw her. marie. she was the perfect girl ever. with her hair in two cute pigtails while mines looks like i just got electrocuted because i had forgot to brush it this morning. she was walking around with her perfect friends. her perfect body. her perfect everything. she probably has both of her parents in her life who loved her dearly..oh who am i kidding she definitely has both parents in her life.

she was rich and pretty everything that i wasn’t. she probably has so much ahead of her while i had nothing ahead of me. i snapped back to reality once i realized marie and her friends were walking towards me. why..why!! out of all the days they walk up to me on this day. i had no makeup on and my hair wasn’t even brushed. i desperately removed my backpack off of my back and searched my bag for a brush. of course i didn’t have one just my luck.

marie and her friends reached me rather quickly.

“what’s going with your hair y/n? it looks like a birds nest.” marie snicked and her minions laughed as well

“i uh didnt have anytime to brush it this morning.” i paused “i was in a rush” my lips pursed

“like your dad was rushing to leave your mom” marie said as she laughed extremely loud

“what” i muttered. that was the only thing i was able to get out of my mouth

“you heard me. you’re going to end up just like your mom or even your dad. don’t go walking past any gun store who knows what you might do” she paused then laughed and continued “maybe you’ll finally kill yourself and go join your dad..everyone wants you to” marie barked as she and her goons walked away

it was no secret that my dad had killed himself. why? we don’t know well i don’t know yet when he died he wrote a note and i had begged my mom to let me read it because i wanted to know what his last words were. maybe he had said something about me but i’ll never know because my mom refuses to let me read it.

after marie said..what she had said i sat down by a tree. i felt like crying because the tears had already started to brew that was until sam walked up to me and sat right beside me.

“what’d marie want” he asked

“nothing” i said as my voice cracked a bit

sam looked at me like he was looking for something.

“something…you look like you’re about to cry y/n are you okay??” sam said softly

“yes, sam im fine. i promise you i am” i answered

“okay..” he said hesitatingly

a small silence engulfed us before sam reached into his bag.

“i have something for you” sam announced

“oh yeah? what is it” i answered

“i want you to wear it tonight to the concert” sam said softly

sam pulled out a small pin and handed it to me.

i gave the pin a closer inspection and upon looking at it up close it said “I ❤️ SAM MONROE” i laughed after reading and looked up at him. he had never looked at me like this before. well, maybe it’s because all the other times he’s looked at me they were just glances.

“i would love to wear this but it’s going to ruin my outfit..then i won’t look good.” i pouted

sam slowly got up and moved his head side to side as he started laughing.

“you look good in anything baby,” sam said calmly as he began to walk off but then turned back around

“oh also i don’t what you did today but you look beautiful” and with that the love of my lif- sam had walked away.

did he just call me beautiful? i was star-struck. wait am i not beautiful and every day..uh rude? he also called me baby! i came right then and there. as i sat there daydreaming about sam the bell rang twice already meaning it was time to go to class. i quickly got up and hauled my ass to the first class of the day.

my first class was english and it was excruciating. i looked at the clock it was currently eight forty. cool. i slowly closed my eyes and then by the time i woke back up school was over. guess i sleep through pretty much all of my classes. as i headed for the school entrance to walk back home someone had called my name. i paused and looked back to see who it was. it was sam. i started grinning as he ran towards me.

“you’re still coming tonight right?” he asked

“yea” i replied

“do u still have the flier?” questioned

“ ‘mmm…” i begun. i definitely had the flier somewhere in my room but, what if he had asked for my number or something to send me the address.

“ ‘mmm it’s probably in my bag somewhere” i answered.

“well, just in case it isn’t here’s my number..text me if you don’t find the flier and need the address” he said as he handed me a small paper with his phone number on it.

called it!!! i gladly took the small paper and smiled at him.

“will do.” i said with the biggest smile on my face and with he walked away. he so likes me well im not one hundred percent sure yet but that’s definitely a sign.

as i opened my front door and made my way into the kitchen the cinnamon mess my mom had made was gone. i walked around the kitchen and it was squeaky clean.

“hi” my mom greeted

i jumped and turned out to see my mom who was home. she usually doesn’t get home until seven o’clock.

“geez mom they should really put a bell on you” i said as i slightly chuckled “um what’re doing home so early” i asked

“well i came home early and wanted to know if you wanted to have a mommy and daughter day but at night” my mom announced

“oh mom i would love to hang out with you today but im going to my friend thing tonight,” i said “ speaking of my friends thing can i go?” i asked

the second those words left my mouth i swear steam start to come out of my mom's ears.

“i always try to do nice things for you and yet you still treat me like this” my mom barked “god i wish you were never born” she exclaimed and with that she walked upstairs stomping her feet like she was five then her stomping came to a stop.

“and if you even think you’re still going to friends thing tonight you can forget you ungrateful little shit” my mom exclaimed.

i was most definitely still going to sam’s going tonight whether she allowed me to go or not i was just letting her know. i sighed and ran my hand through my hair. once i heard her room door closed i made my way upstairs and towards my room as i walked towards my room and opened the door i pulled out the small paper sam had handed me with his phone number on it. then i pulled out my phone and typed his number into my phone and saving his contact under the name sam.

hey

is this sam

yea

hey y/n

hii

so what time is ur gig

it’s at 8pm

at the grizzly bar

okay cool

are u coming

yea

sweett

are u going to wear the pin i gave you

i would

but i wouldn’t want it to ruin my outfit yk 😬

you’ll wear it

and what are u gonna do if i don’t

you’ll see

im soo scared rn

shaking in my boots rn sam

kys.

i’ll see u soonn

read at 7:02pm

i turned my phone off after seeing that he had left me on read and walked over to my closet pulling out an outfit i was going wear i ended up pulling out a light wash denim mini skirt and a black satin long sleeved blouse with a pair of black high heeled boots. i layes thé outfit down and walked over to my bathroom to go shower.

once i showered i wrapped myself in my towel and began to do my makeup once i was done with my makeup i walked over to my room to go get dressed. once i was done getting dressed i walked back into my bathroom and curled my hair. i looked hot i thought. i slowly walked back into my room and grabbed a small black purse and crept down the hall pass my moms room and down the stairs. i checked my phone it was seven fifty. i should probably start walking so i pulled my the grizzly bar on my phone and it was only a five minute walk. thank god if it was any longer than that i don’t what i’d do.

so i walked out of my house put on my gps and began walking. after about five minutes of walking i was finally there and the line was that long so i waited and a big burley guy gave me a stamp on my hand and then told me to enjoy the show. once i walked in it reeked of weed. i checked phone and it was seven fifty eight. oh good the show was about to start. i was getting kind of lonely standing by myself so i started looking around for someone i knew and then i saw marie and her friends.

what is she doing here. she probably doesn’t even like rock music. i mean i dont either but- oh who cares what is she doing here. did sam invite her. no he couldn’t have i mean i had heard rumors about them dating but i wasn’t sure if they were true because she doesn’t seem like sam’s type. am i even sam’s type? before i could finish my thought the lights dimmed i checked my phone and it was eight o’clock it was starting.

sam starting singing his voice cuts through each line like shattered glass, raw and captivating. sam had such a beautiful voice. even though i didn’t really like rock music i felt every single word that came out of his mouth.

the first song the band played was so intense, really makes me think why people like rock music as i was thinking about this sam finally locked eyes with me across the sea of faces. it’s like he was looking for me but then he quickly looked away. i was pouting for a few seconds then realized if he made eye contact with me whole time it would just be weird.

finally, the band had played their final song and sam takes his bow to wild cheers and whistles. i had finally allowed myself to breathe and as people were leaving the small bar. sam had hopped off of the stage to look for me or so i hope. as i was looking for sam i bumped into someone as i turned around to quickly apologize i realized i had bumped into sam.

“hey gorgeous. come here often?” sam drawls with a wry smirk, snuffing out his smoke against the wall without a care. i laughed. “only when you’re playing rockstar”

“missed me, baby?” he rumbles lowly, leaning down to bury his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. i sighed threading fingers through inky hair matted with sweat to hold him close. “you know i did.”

i don’t know what had possessed me to flirt back with him but im kind of glad i did. i bet from far it probably looked like we’re dating. i pulled away from the embrace first to get a good look at him. he looked so pretty. i swear if men could get pregnant i would get him pregnant so fast.

“hey, you wore it” sam said pointing to the pin he had gave me earlier today.

i looked down at my chest and smiled. “yeah i did”

“it looks good on you. i told you” sam said in a sing songy tone while dragging the u out

i giggled and then shyly said thanks

“do you wanna go somewhere” he asked

“don’t you have to clean up” i retorted as i pointed behind him. he turned around and saw his bandmate picking up and putting the equipment away.

“ ‘mmm they should be fine” he rejoiced as he said that my mom had texted me.

Where are you.

in my room

i didn’t know if my mom was home or not so i might as well test my luck.

No, You’re not

I just checked your room and you’re not in there

So Im going to ask you again

Where are you

i hesitated before typing so i decided to turn off my phone shoved it in my pocket and looked back up at sam.

“everything alright?” he asked

“uhh yea but uh i can't hang out with you today..my moms mad at me so i should probably get home” i said with a slight smile

“oh okay” sam said with a hint of sadness in his tone

“but we can definitely hang out tomorrow” i cheered

“yeah?” he questioned

“yeah” i said as i pulled him in for a hug. “okay i better get going now or else my ass is grass”

he laughed and said okay and with that i walked away as i was out of his sight and away from the bar i ran like my life depended on it. i was so fucked.

#angst #hayden christensen #sam monroe #rockstar boyfriend #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lana del rey #stay tuned

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Common Grounds / Chapter 1

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: T (for now... you know me, this will go up)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Food mention, overly charming Marcus, Teresa Lisbon gets her own warning.

Summary: Stop me if you've heard this one: A handsome stranger walks into a coffee shop...

A/N: A coffee shop AU that probably didn't need to be written, but here we are. I'm planning on keeping the chapters rather short, as this is supposed to be the fun, easy thing I do between book edits. How many chapters will this be? You know better than to ask that of me. Shame on you. If you make me a moodboard for this story I will kiss you directly on the mouth.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

You blink blearily at the harsh blue light of your phone in the dark of your room. You don’t see the numbers on the screen, but you know the time by heart–4:05 am. Many people, when you tell them when you have to wake up to get to work, say something along the lines of “Oh, I could never do that,” or “I’m too much of a night owl.” It isn’t that you’re a morning person–or, at least, you weren’t, until you picked up the opening shift at Common Grounds to make some extra money after college.

Little had you known, five years later, you’d still be here, making baked goods from scratch as the first rays of light cross the sky and serving coffee during every morning rush.

It works perfectly–you’re done around 1:00pm, and you have plenty of time to run errands or go home and dedicate time to your little art studio crammed into the corner of your living room. 

With a heavy sigh, you roll ungracefully out of bed and stretch, lurching to the bathroom to shower and dress. Your motions are automatic–fueled by habit and little else in the quiet pre-dawn hours. You robotically lace your boots and shoulder your bag before leaving your apartment, checking the locks twice, just in case.

The streets are always empty at this hour, and you relish in the silence. You don’t put in your earbuds, preferring to listen to the city waking up, a perfect soundtrack to the faint orange glow to the east, heralding the sunrise, even though the first rays of sun won’t hit the buildings for another thirty minutes at least.

You open the doors of Common Grounds and flick on the lights, watching as they sluggishly blink on. Then, you flip on the radio, connecting your own device to play through the speakers for a little while before the cafe opens. Next is the oven and all the coffee machines, refilling the ice, stocking the milk. The 2% is low, so you go to the large walk-in fridge to wrestle one of the five-gallon milk bags that weigh around fifty pounds each into the milk dispenser. Better to restock now than run out during the rush and struggle with the ungainly bags with a long line of customers looking on. 

Next, you get to work baking for the day. The dough should already be made and in the walk-in, and you always make quick work of portioning it out onto trays. This morning, you have blueberry scones, cinnamon coffee cake, sugar cookies, and some decadent seven-layer bars that take a little more time in preparation, but the taste (and how fast they sell out) is well worth it. You’re just pulling the first scones out of the industrial oven when your fellow opener, Sam, arrives and unlocks the front doors at 5:30 on the nose. 

“Evenin’,” they say–their habitual morning joke. 

“Hey, Sam,” you wave back. 

“I had a dream I was trapped in the walk-in,” Sam groans. “Fucking work dreams, right?”

“I had one the other day where I was trying to make cookies out of mud and everyone was mad because I kept running out,” you laugh. 

“I had a dream where I was having sex with that asshat of a Congressman that comes in every once in a while and acts like he’s a fucking celebrity,” Sam says as they toss their bag under the counter and put on some gloves to help with the rest of the scones. 

“Okay, you win.”

“Did you end up going on that date last night?” Sam asks conversationally.

“You mean the mountain climber? Yeah, he didn’t show.”

“Fuck me!” Sam exclaims. “There are no good men in DC, I’m convinced.”

“That’s helpful, Sam, thank you,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“That’s why I stick with the girls, gays, and theys,” Sam quips, grabbing one of the scones and stuffing it into their mouth.

“Hey! Paying customers only,” you scold. 

“Like you didn’t have one before I got here,” Sam retorts. 

“No,” you protest, offended. “...I had a cookie.”

“Breakfast of champions,” Sam says. “You’ll be dead on your feet by the rush.”

“That’s what the coffee is for.”

The two of you work in companiable silence, occasionally broken by chatter or by one or both of you humming along to the music. 

Customers this early are sparse; the main rush doesn’t go into full swing until around seven. Before then, people trickle in and out–a few regulars, an intern juggling two phones and looking to be in a huge rush, and an older couple that likes to play cards in the corner on Tuesdays. 

You like to think you can sniff out the new customers who will become regulars. Some people walk in with the single-minded purpose of acquiring coffee and then leaving again as fast as they came. Potential regulars, on the other hand, tend to cast their eyes around the cozy space as they order, scanning the walls, or sorting through the snacks at the counter. For this reason, you notice him almost immediately.

He lingers; taking in each piece of artwork on the walls before moving to the next, scanning the little bags of gourmet coffee and novelty mugs on the shelf. He touches a few, picking one mug up, examining it with a little smile, and putting it back down again. 

He’s dressed in a plain charcoal suit, with a badge fastened to the lapel, although you can’t read which Agency he’s with from here. He doesn’t look like a typical suit, though–his eyes are soft, his hair slightly messy. His profile is striking, but when he’s turned toward the counter, you can see that the corners of his mouth are pulled up, softening his appearance. 

In short, he’s pretty.

Eventually, the man approaches the counter with a friendly smile. This close, you can see his badge more clearly–he’s FBI. 

"I'll have a latte, with…" he trails off, squinting at the syrup offerings with his head cooked adorably to one side. He scrunches his nose. "...Lavender?"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," you quip. "That's the favorite with a lot of our regulars."

"And I'm in no place to argue with them," the man replies with an easy grin. "Lavender, please. Medium."

"Can I get your name?" you ask, sharpie poised to write on the side of the cup.

"Marcus," the man answers.

"Anything else for you, Marcus?"

"I better not," Marcus says with a little laugh as he scans the shelves behind the counter. "But those seven-layer bars do look heavenly."

"I made them myself this morning," you say, smiling back, taken by the man's charm.

Marcus makes a mock-pained face. "Damn," he says. "Well, you've forced my hand, Miss–?"

You tell him your name, and he repeats it with a smile. "One seven-layer bar as well, please."

Your smile widens and you grab one of the sweet bars–still just slightly warm from the oven–and place it in a bag.

"Do you happen to know where the nearest grocery store is?" Marcus asks. "It can't be the Harris Teeter that's five miles away, can it? That's all my phone will tell me."

"Depends," you tell him. "That's the nearest major supermarket chain, but there's a little convenience store a few blocks away that has just about everything."

Marcus's eyes go wide. "Really?"

You write down the name on a spare cardboard sleeve and give it to him. "New to the area?" you ask conversationally.

"Yeah!" Marcus answers. "Just moved here for a job. Got here two days ago, and I'm still getting my bearings." 

"I live in this neighborhood too," you tell him. "I love it. I know it's a big city and all, but everyone is very friendly. Where are you coming from?"

"Texas," Marcus answers, letting a little drawl sneak into his voice. He shoots you a little sideways grin. 

"Well, you can always find a little southern hospitality here," you say, handing him his latte. 

"I'll keep that in mind for whenever I get homesick," Marcus says. He winks before taking a sip of his drink. "Mm, this is good," he exclaims emphatically. "Thanks for the recommendation."

"Any time," you tell him. "Hey, on the subject of neighborhood stores, there's this ice cream place that–"

You're interrupted by Marcus's phone ringing, and he shoots you an apologetic look. "Sorry. Listen, I’m sure I'll see you around. Hello?" he says to the phone. "Hey, sweetie! I just found the most amazing little coffee shop. Yeah, way better than Starbucks. You'll love it, it's got all this art on–Uh-huh? Oh, okay. I won't keep you, sounds like an important ca–Love you too. Bye, sweetie."

Figures. He's taken. And with a face like that, how could he not be? 

You watch as Marcus ends the call and gives you a little wave before he disappears through the front door, still smiling.

He’s so happy, you think to yourself. Happy, carefree, and in love. Must be nice. You wonder if there are any other guys out there with such a megawatt smile and easy charm that happen to be single. Maybe with the same mussed brown hair and the aquiline nose and–

“Hello!” your co-worker, Sam, interrupts. “Earth calling. Customer would like a nonfat white mocha with one shot of peppermint!”

You shake yourself and grab the proffered cup that Sam is currently waving in your face. “White mocha, one peppermint, nonfat, coming up!” you chirp, pouring the milk into the carafe to steam. 

“What was that all about?” Sam asks. “You got all moony-eyed for a moment there.”

“Cute guy,” you say truthfully. 

“Oh, is that all?” Sam says with a playful roll of their eyes. “Chai tea latte.” 

You’re handed another cup.

Apparently, the rush is starting early today. 

*

Next Chapter >>

Reminder: I no longer use a taglist. Follow @pennyswriting and click on 'Get Notifications' to be notified of any new fics.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal

[treacherous-talks]

So I am making my abomination welsh cakes and I thought some of you here might like to know - because it’s November and it’s cold and dark and I though you might need a treat.

Why abomination welsh cakes you ask?

Well, traditional welsh cakes are flat little cakes made with currents and they slap. They’re so good. My friend once asked me - with genuine curiosity - are welsh cakes a breakfast food? A snack food? A biscuit food? To have with tea? Supper? Midnight snack? The answer, of course, to all of these is yes.

Abomination welsh cakes are bastard cakes that my welsh grannies would be furious at because they spit on our history and traditions, but then my grannies would eat all of them because they’re so fucking delicious.

So they’re allowed. Begrudgingly. With shame. But they are allowed. My housemates love them, but they’re not welsh so they don’t understand.

Bastard cakes - welsh cakes with dried cranberry and white chocolate. Bougie welsh cakes. I’m so sorry.

But they go hard. They’re delightful.

Recipe under cut.

- 225g of self raising flour (or plain flour and add baking powder)

- 100g butter (I always used salted)

- 50g caster sugar

- Between 30-40g cranberries chopped up depending on how you feel

- Around 30gish of white chocolate cut up into small bits, measure with your heart - but not too many because your dough will be weird (I always use milky bar buttons chopped up)

- 1 egg beaten with 3 tablespoons of milk

- Pinch of salt

The real recipe for real genuine authentic welsh cakes that you don’t have to be ashamed of is:

- 225g of self raising flour (or plain flour and add baking powder)

- 100g butter (I always used salted)

- 50g caster sugar

- 50g currents

- 1 egg beaten with 3 tablespoons of milk

- Pinch of salt

Some people add cinnamon or spices to their welsh cakes. I was never taught that way so I don’t. Sounds delicious though. Some people use honey instead of milk/eggs. Sounds good too. Bake from the heart.

Method:

- In a big bowl, rub together the flour and butter. This is easier if the butter is at room temperature but can still be done if you (like me) forgot to take it out of the fridge. Just takes a bit longer. (If you’re using plain flour, make sure you add the baking powder to the flour before you start rubbing.)

- Rubbing is literally rubbing the flour and butter together with your fingertips. It’s messy. You end up with something that looks kinda like bread crumbs. Try and make sure you get all the flour, and don’t have big chunks of butter.

- Some people say you have to be delicate and like ‘rub gently or whatever.’ My opinion is that welsh baking is a lot like welsh people: stocky and hardy. These are not delicate little pastries, these are made to survive being knocked around in your pocket as you go on adventures in the welsh countryside. Go to town, rub as hard as you like (but with love. Even bastard cakes need love or they taste bad)

- Add a pinch of salt (probably easier to add to the plain flour in step one but I always forget)

- Add the sugar

- Add the cranberries and chocolate (or the currents if you’re making real welsh cakes)

- Give everything a mix

- Add - SLOWLY - the egg and milk. Mix as you go. Resist the urge to add more milk because it looks dry, ITS NOT, it just takes a moment to combine together. Get stuck in, use your hands.

- If dry (AND YOU’RE CERTAIN ITS DRY) add a bit more milk. If wet add a bit more flour.

- End up with sticky ball of dough.

- Hurrah!

- roll out dough on kitchen surface. Make sure you flour the surface or it’ll get stuck. Should be like 1cm thick, but go with whatever feels right. Remember they will rise when you cook them so you don’t want them too thick at this stage

- cut into circles with medium sized biscuit cutter. If you don’t have a cutter, the rim of a glass isn’t bad. A little ramekin dish isn’t the best but ok in a pinch. If you want to be really unhinged you could just cut out circles with a knife but like … don’t do that

- You’re aiming for around 12 - 14 welsh cakes from this recipe, depending on how big your cutter is.

- Ta Dah!

- So traditionally you’re supposed to use a griddle to cook welsh cakes

- I used to have one but it was a bitch to clean and it was so heavy. I just use a frying pan, I’m sorry granny

- On a medium heat, heat up your pan. No oil, no butter, nothing. We’re not frying them. ‘But they’ll stick’ they don’t. I dunno why, but they don’t

- MEDIUM HEAT IS IMPORTANT. I miss my gas hob, it was much easier. Cooking on the electric is more difficult, but doable. If your heat is too high, you’ll end up with welsh cakes that are burnt on the outside, raw in the middle. Too low and it’ll take 500 years. You want somewhere in the middle.

- If you get the heat right, they’ll take a couple of mins to cook on each side. I usually time mine for 3 mins and 3 mins, flipping with a spatula as we go. You want a nice golden brown on the outside when they’re done.

- THIS IS WHERE THE LOVE COMES IN

- Welsh cakes always take longer to cook than I think. In one frying pan I can do 3-4 at a time. You can’t rush them. Resist temptation to raise the heat - you’ll mess them up. Put on a show or a movie, cook with love.

- COOK WITH LOVE DON’T RUSH THEM

- the bastard cakes are harder to tell when done than the real welsh cakes. This is because the chocolate melts a bit when cooking so they look gooey in the middle when they are actually cooked. Go with the timings above and you’ll be ok. I’ve never poisoned anyone with my welsh cakes yet.

- I always take the little bit of dough left over from cutting and use that as my tester, and then eat it to see if it’s done. The first cake is always dodgy. Just eat it straight away and no one will know - try not to burn your tongue. I know the little circle of freshly cooked welsh cake straight from the pan doesn’t seem like it should be hot, but it is. I have not yet poisoned myself either.

- Sprinkle with a little bit caster sugar when done.

- Serve hot, serve warm, serve cold, really just depends on how patient you are.

- DONE!

Beautiful. Delicious. Can you feel the the spirits of your welsh ancestors beaming down at you with pride? It’s ok if you don’t have any welsh ancestors, you can borrow mine. ❤️

#treacherous talks #recipe #welsh cakes #bastard cakes #baking #wales

[sesamestreep]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

#I have my block button ready for anyone who comes for me about the pet names or terms of endearment herein #I did my best and all of them read right to me #source: I based them on things I call my various niblings or have heard their parents call them #I’m not as confident that Milly’s dialogue is super realistic for a kid but I hang out with a 9 year old all the time #and most of the dialogue is stuff she might say #So who knows??? #anyway I love one (1) dumb little family #HWS30days #30 day challenge #homelywenchsociety #mattfoggy #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #do I need a Milly tag? Is that who I am now? #kid fic #COULD NOT RESIST MAKING IT WEIRD AND SAD RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE THERE SORRY #the gbbo au #gbbo AU #once again no prior knowledge of this universe required! #series: how sweet it is #is it hot? ☑️ #is it fresh? ☑️ #am I proud to serve it? ☑️ #and post

[courtingchaos]

Wooo I’m feeling some kind of way recently. Stress will do that to you.

A/N: this is fluff but seriously, no minors. I mean it.

But like, paint this picture with me.

Older Eddie (Professor Munson in my imaging), remembering all the things that make you happy. He notices you’re upset because job stuff and you’re having a hard time being in your 30’s and he gets it. It wasn’t that long ago he was there and he’s been watching you ghost around the townhouse for a week. Hair clipped up and the same pajamas you’ve had on for at least three days. He still trips over himself to see you though, even unwashed and snapping and sad. Every day he comes home and searches for you, and every day this week he’s found you in the spare room you’ve slowly turned into your space.

He’s told you he’ll clear it out and get you real office furniture but that makes you sink deeper into your depression. You talk about not being able to pay him back and he’s never once expected that.

You don’t have to. He doesn’t want you to. Let him do something for you. He just wants you to feel better.

And maybe that starts a fight because he’s already got his career and his friends and his money and his home. You’re floating in a job you hate and looking for another one to bide your time in because you actually hate the degree you spent 7 years getting. You only did it to prove to everyone else you could and now?

Now you live off of your boyfriend in his big, expensive brownstone. He’s 12 years into his field and settled and also 25 years older than you.

So what is it? You only like charity cases or something? Gotta rescue the idiot?

He knows you’re mad. He knows you lash out like this. He knows you’ll push so that everyone else leaves and you can feel like you got left instead. So maybe he snaps back at you for a second. Reminds you if he didn’t want you living with him and dating him he could find someone more age appropriate (he says with an eye roll). When you stomp up the stairs to your room he yells up to you that if he didn’t love you and was 20 years younger he’d be throwing your shit out onto the pavement outside, damn the old money next door.

Maybe you avoid him till the weekend when he’s home the whole time. You haven’t slept in the same bed and you haven’t answered a single knock or text or FaceTime. He sends you little flower emojis and a string of stars. He finds a tiktok about the Mars rover that he knows you’ll want to see and sends you some screen shots of the new menu for the whiskey bar you two like to go to. While you were sleeping he slid into your room and left your Sunday morning fancy coffee on the nightstand and when you finally wake up and notice it, you can hear him moving around in the kitchen.

You still feel like shit but at least you know he isn’t kicking you out. You know he wouldn’t, not over a stupid fight like that but still. It’s when you’re wrapped up in your robe and heading down stairs to finally speak to him you notice the bedroom door open. The bedroom you normally sleep in, with a sticky note on it. An arrow pointing in with a smiley face and crudely drawn horns. On the bed there’s a little paper bag from the expensive soap place you rarely buy from and it seems Eddie has outdone himself again. The rose shower melts and the lemon soap and that stupid body pouf you like so much that smells like candy. If you cry about it in the shower you don’t tell him and he doesn’t bring up your puffy face when you finally pad into the kitchen.

He’s baking something, it smells sweet and you spot the split packaging of the orange cinnamon pillsbury rolls in the trash and you have to swallow the lump in your throat. He hates those so you know he ran these errands yesterday when he left for those few hours. Probably ran by the grocery store first and then into that boutique that he always complains smells too much. He pauses when he see you staring into the trash can, silent and still. Doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head to try and catch your eye.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what to do about anything and I’m panicking.

He just shrugs and smiles. He gets it. He always gets it. There’s something in him that always gets your mood swings and that deep seated anger. He’s never asked you to try and snuff that flame out, just helps you tend it.

It’s a controlled burn. You gotta let it get all the kindling out so new shit can grow.

Eddie pulls you into a hug and you lean into him. Breathe him in slow to try and get that lump to go away. You thank him for your shower and then gesture sadly behind you at the oven and thank him for the cinnamon rolls you know he hates. He laughs and it rumbles against you. He hums along to the music and you tuck your head into his neck and realize he’s got Neil Young on. There’s an old man joke on the tip of your tongue but then he starts singing along to Harvest Moon and you shut up. The tears you’ve been holding in since getting out of the shower push up and over and stain your cheeks and wet his old tshirt and he just shushes you. Sways you against him until the timer goes off and he sways you over to the stove and manages to get the round pan out without burning either of you.

Maybe it’s a rainy day and the drops patter against the windows. Eddie knows you like the rain and he dances you across the living room so he can crack the window so you can hear it coming down.

Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again…

Sings quietly into your hair and tucks you up close and let’s you cry on his shoulder and when he feels you slowing down, taking those deep breaths to steady yourself, he pulls his phone out and replays the song so he can properly dance with you. He wants you to laugh so he holds your fingertip and first knuckle, acts like he’s playing a tiny harmonica. You giggle and he feels better, lighter. There’s color in your cheeks again and you’re looking him in the eye before you give him a kiss and drape back over him.

It’s cozy and it smells like cinnamon rolls and you’re swaying with him and you both are happy.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Fluff #Professor Munson #my fic #my work #I’m stressed #have this

[cirgaydian-rhythm]

Happy Holidays - Have Some Cookies

I feel like sharing this recipe with everyone since I've gotten really positive feedback on them.

Oatmeal Craisin Cookies

Yes, "craisins" as in "dried cranberries." My partner and I aren't big raisin fans, but we do love craisins. If you're the opposite, you can easily swap them out, obviously.

I don't remember exactly how I cobbled this recipe together, I just know that I used at least two different sources.

Ingredients

1 cup salted butter, softened (you can use unsalted butter, but you may need to up the added salt content) 1 cup dark brown sugar, packed (light brown sugar will also work, but I think the lower molasses content will affect the texture and flavor) 1/2 cup white granulated sugar 2 large eggs 2 tsp vanilla extract 1 tsp ground cinnamon 2 cups old-fashioned oats (I don't recommend steel-cut or quick oats, but you do you) 2 cups (240 g) all-purpose flour (I've not tried this with any other type of flour, nor do I necessarily recommend using any non-glutenous or non-glutenous-like flour, as it will at the very least make the batter much looser than intended) 1 tsp baking soda 1 tsp salt 1 cup craisins

Directions

In separate bowl, whisk together eggs and vanilla extract, then add craisins. Let sit to soften craisins. In mixing bowl (stand mixer is HIGHLY recommended as this dough is very thick), mix butter and sugars. Add egg mixture to mixing bowl and mix. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix. Let dough chill in fridge for at least 30 minutes (this keeps them from spreading too much once in the oven; if you want to chill the dough for more than an hour, I recommend rolling it into balls beforehand as the colder the dough gets, the tougher it is to work with, though you can also take the dough out of the fridge and let it warm up on the counter for 30 minutes before trying to work with it). Preheat oven to 375°F. Roll dough into balls by hand (this helps pack the oats and craisins into the cookies so they're not jutting out all over the place once baked; I use a 1" cookie ball scoop just to keep the sizes more or less consistent, then properly roll them before placing them on a cookie sheet; also I recommend wearing gloves for this part, as the dough is VERY sticky and I can't guarantee your hands won't feel like they're coated in butter for hours afterwards no matter how well you wash them). Bake 10-12 minutes (I usually put them in for 11 minutes or a little over, but the exact time depends on your oven; if the dough balls are straight from the fridge, they may need a bit longer; on the upside, there's so much sugar in these that it doesn't hurt if they get a little dark on the edges!).

Notes:

These come out of the oven VERY SOFT, and you might mistake them for not being done - trust me, they're most likely perfectly done, and any longer will result in an unpleasantly crunchy (if not outright burnt) cookie. If you're really unsure about how long your oven needs to bake these, start off doing small batches and let your "test" batch cool down before trying to move them off the parchment paper. If they're still gooey after 5~10 minutes, add another 30-60 seconds to your baking time, but most likely they'll have firmed up enough to at least pick up without them falling apart on you.

I use these "air bake" cookie sheets, which work wonderfully well for these cookies, plus baking parchment; I've not tried making them on regular baking sheets or without parchment, so cooking times may need to be adjusted for that.

Even with chilling the dough , the cookies do still spread out, so make sure to leave a good amount of space between each ball. This recipe makes quite a lot of cookies (about 69 if using a 1" cookie scoop), so depending on your setup, you'll have to work in batches. I try to get all the dough rolled out into balls before I even start baking them, so it's quick and easy to swap them out. We keep our house on the cooler side, so it's not usually a problem, but if your house (or your kitchen) is on the warmer side, you may want to keep the balls refrigerated while they await their turn in the oven.

Lastly, I highly recommend stacked cooling racks for these. Because of how soft they are fresh out of the oven, I'll slide the parchment paper off the cookie sheets and onto a cooling rack with a finer mesh, then transfer the cookies to the stacked cooling racks once they've firmed up a bit (about 2~3 minutes) leaving the finer mesh rack available for the next batch. The reason why I recommend the stacked racks is that, again, this recipe makes a LOT of cookies, so the stacked racks are a good space-saver! Especially since these take a while to cool down completely at room temp (I've not tried chilling them directly post-bake - I think that might affect the texture), and they do need to be COMPLETELY cooled before they can be packed away (otherwise they warp and smoosh into each other - even when completely cooled, they'll stick to each other a bit, but they come back apart easily enough).

Have fun baking cookies! They may not really be "holiday" cookies, but this recipe is my gift to the internet void, so merry happy and all that jazz~

#recipe #cookies #cookie recipe #oatmeal cookies #oatmeal craisin cookies #oatmeal raisin cookies #recipes #baking #food #tag me if you make these! #I wanna know what other people think #or if I need to specify anything else in my directions

[castletown-cafe]

Castletown Café Episode 27: Butterscotch-Cinnamon Pie

It's been 8 years.....doesn't seem like that long, does it? On September 15th, 2015, Undertale launched to the world and took the internet by storm, delighting gamers young and old and capturing their hearts and minds with the story, humor, memorable characters, and beautiful music. Without Undertale, there wouldn't be Deltarune.

It's safe to assume that the pie Kris stole between Chapters 1 and 2 as well as the pie Toriel later teaches Susie how to bake is the same pie from Undertale: butterscotch-cinnamon pie. It's the pie Toriel is known for in Undertale, where she asks you early on in the game which flavor you prefer. It doesn't matter if you choose cinnamon or butterscotch, because she later bakes you one delicious pie with both flavors included that compliment each other perfectly.

This pie is well known by fans to restore your health to full HP, regardless of the route you take (which effects how much max HP you have). It even has plot significance! If you know, you know.

Since Undertale's launch, I've made butterscotch-cinnamon pie every September to commemorate it's anniversary. In previous years, I followed pre-existing recipes, but this year, I have concocted my own! The results are a beautiful custard pie with a perfectly-set filling and it tastes as heavenly as the pies I'd made in the past!

While many butterscotch pie recipes out there include a meringue topping, I always opt for a cinnamon-vanilla whipped topping, inspired by @terribletriocreations butterscotch-cinnamon pie recipe. That said, I'd love to try out my butterscotch-cinnamon pie recipe with a meringue topping one of these days!

There are so many different ways to make butterscotch pie, from the simple to the advanced. You can make it with the browning butter method, or use butterscotch chips, or an easy brown sugar and butter custard filling. Mine is the latter category; great for any beginner and easy to make! Here we go!

BUTTERSCOTCH-CINNAMON PIE:

1 pie crust, pre-made or made from scratch

1 cup firmly-packed dark brown sugar

3 tablespoons flour

3 tablespoons cornstarch

Pinch of salt

2 cups milk

4 egg yolks, divided

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Cinnamon-Vanilla Whipped Topping:

1 cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Roll out pie crust and line a pie dish with it. Make sure the crust fits the dish, trim off any excess dough, and dock the bottom with a fork.

Crimp the edges of the crust around the rim of the pie dish. I do it by pinching the dough with my fingers and thumb, but using a fork or another utensil works, too.

In a small bowl, scramble one egg yolk with a little bit of water and brush the rim to gloss the edges of the pie.

Grab a sheet of foil and place in the pie, then fill with dried beans or pie weights. Bake the crust for about 7-10 minutes. After that, remove it from the oven for a moment.

Remove the beans or pie weights and place a pie shield on the rim of the pie shell to prevent the crust rim from overcooking. If you don't have a pie shield, grab a sheet of foil and place it over the pie, cutting out the center where the filling should go. Instant pie shield! Now, bake your pie crust again for another 5-7 minutes, or until your crust is fully baked. Remove it from the oven yet again. If the crust puffs up at the bottom, squish it back down with a spoon.

In a small mixing bowl, beat 3 egg yolks and set aside.

In a saucepan over medium heat, combine brown sugar, flour, cornstarch, and salt. Whisk together for 30 seconds, then slowly add the milk while continuing to whisk in order to prevent any clumps or lumps from forming.

Cook the mixture, stirring constantly to prevent burning, until it's nice and thick and is bubbling a wee bit.

Stir in the butter and keep cooking as the butter melts. After that, keep stirring and cooking for a few more minutes, then remove from heat.

With a ladle, slowly incorporate (while whisking) 1 cup of the hot butterscotch mixture into the egg yolks to temper the eggs and prevent scrambling from occurring. Once you've added and mixed it together, feel free to add just a little more butterscotch, slowly, to ensure that the eggs gradually got hot enough. Then simply pour your egg mixture back into the saucepan with the remaining butterscotch.

Return your butterscotch to medium heat and cook again for another 3 minutes or so, then stir in the vanilla and cinnamon until fully incorporated.

Pour that butterscotch filling into your prepared pie shell and bake once again for another 7-10 minutes. Remove your pie from the oven and let it cool completely. Once cooled, your custard should be completely set and ready for the whipped topping!

In another mixing bowl, combine heavy cream, powdered sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon and beat on medium speed until stiff peaks form. Attach your decorating tip of choice to a piping bag and place it in a tall glass to fill it with the whipped cream. As you would with decorating a cake, pipe the whipped topping over your pie in any pattern or design you'd like. If you want, you can sprinkle the top with a little extra ground cinnamon for a finishing touch. Enjoy and stay determined! ❤

#castletown cafe #undertale #deltarune #undertale 8th anniversary #butterscotch cinnamon pie #cw food #toriel #my art #deltarune fanart #undertale fanart #undertale inspired recipe #deltarune inspired recipe #sorry for accidentally deleting this im drunk

[curvycarbivore]

Jumbo Cinnamon Rolls (Vegan)

Yield: 5 buns | Prep time: 1 hour | Cook time: 35 minutes | Total time: 3 hours

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sticky, sweet, fluffy, and VEGAN! These vegan cinnamon rolls are perfect for breakfast or dessert. They are warm and gooey on the inside, topped with an easy homemade icing. While this recipe does take a long time, half of it is waiting for the dough to rise. You can take that time to prepare some other breakfast or dessert foods, or take a break on the couch like I do. This recipes comes together to create 5 large cinnamon rolls that are so delicious you will have people guessing if they are really vegan. Wink wink.

Dough Ingredients:

1 ½ cups buttermilk (1 ½ cups unsweetened nut milk + 1 tbsp lemon juice)

2 tbsp vegan butter, melted

2 tbsp granulated sugar

1 packet (2.5 tsp) active dry yeast

3 cups of flour

½ tsp salt

Filling Ingredients:

5 tbsp vegan butter, melted

½ tsp vanilla extract

½ cup brown sugar

2 tbsp cinnamon

Icing Ingredients:

1 cup powdered sugar

2-3 tbsp unsweetened nut milk

Directions:

Lightly grease a bowl and a pie dish. Set aside.

In a microwave-safe bowl, combine the together the almond milk and lemon juice. Set aside for 5 minutes until it begins to curdle slightly. Once it's curdled, microwave for 2-3 minutes until slightly warm.

Add the melted butter and sugar to the buttermilk.

Next, add the yeast to the buttermilk and give it a quick stir to combine. Let it rest for 2-3 minutes to activate the yeast.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the buttermilk mixture with the flour and salt.

Carefully mix with a wooden spoon until just combined. If it's too dry, add a splash of plant milk. If it's too wet, add some more flour.

Once the dough has come together (it will be sticky and will not form into a perfect ball), transfer it to your lightly greased bowl

Cover with a warm, damp kitchen towel and let it sit in a warm place for 1-2 hours to rise, or until it has doubled in size.

While the dough is almost done rising, make your filling.

Melt the vegan butter, and add in the vanilla extract, sugar, and cinnamon.

Preheat your oven to 350˚F.

Once the dough has risen, transfer it to a floured surface.

Knead the dough for a few times to deflate it. If the dough is too too sticky to roll out, add some more flour and knead it a few more times.

Roll the dough into a square, about 1/2 inch thick.

Brush the filling evenly onto the dough.

Carefully roll the dough up into a log, then slice into 5 even pieces.

Transfer the rolls into the pie dish. Place one in the middle, and the other 4 around the edges. It's okay if they're slightly touching.

Loosely cover the pie dish with plastic wrap and let the rolls rise for 30 minutes.

Bake for 25-35 minutes or until golden brown on the top (I like my rolls slightly undercooked, so I cook them for about 25 minutes).

Once they have finished baking, remove from the oven and place the pie dish on a drying rack to cool.

When the rolls are cooling, prepare your icing.

Combine the powdered sugar and plant milk in a bowl. You want the icing to be a thick consistency so you can spread it with a spoon or knife. If it is able to be drizzled, it is too thin and won't create a thick frosting. Add more powdered sugar if this happens.

Once the rolls have cooled slightly, spread the icing evenly on top.

Slice and enjoy your sticky, sweet, vegan cinnamon buns!

Tips and Tricks:

You can make the dough the night before for a quick breakfast. Make them all the way through the steps until right before baking. After you let the rolls rise for 30 minutes in the covered pie dish, place then in the fridge overnight. Then in the morning, you can immediately bake them. If they have deflated a bit in the fridge, let them rise in a warm place for 1 hour before baking.

#breakfast #vegan breakfast #go vegan #vegan #veganism #sweets #vegan food #vegan recipe #cinnamon roll #cinnamon buns

[hannahchronism]

I wish I had thought of this sooner because now probably you have made all your things unless you are a late night person or plan to bake on christmas day but do u want..... a cookie recipe? Behold:

Refrigerator Cookies*

*yes they probably have a proper name, no I don't care what it is

ID: A yellow notecard with the recipe listed in cursive handwriting, there are a few small stains on the card, and the whole thing has been laminated. Stains and all. Authenticity! End ID.

Transcription & more baking instructions below!

Ingredients:

1 cup butter (we use real butter but margarine and other substitutes should work fine!)

1 cup (granulated cane) sugar

1 cup brown sugar (light or dark, doesn't matter)

2 eggs (grade A is best for ratio reasons)

1 and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

3 cups "flower" (all-purpose baking flour lol)

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

1 tsp salt

1 cup chopped pecans (optional! but really very good)

[.... You know what? While typing this I just realized I forgot the salt in the batch I just made. hm...... The butter was salted it's probably fine.]

Bake at 400° Fahrenheit (204 Celsius- do you guys cook with Celsius too or is it only for weather?) for 8-10 minutes until light brown*

*the dough is already brown. I do not know how to advise you of its baked color you kind of just have to do your best, watch the edges. They're still good slightly overbaked don't worry about it.

Mixing Instructions:

DO NOT PREHEAT YOUR OVEN (YET)

1. Soften or melt your butter (/butter substitute)

Either soften by leaving it at room temperature for awhile, or melt it in the microwave (30 seconds at a time for best, least like to explode all over your microwave results.) Melted is better than softened, in my opinion, but either is functional. (Melted just effects the final texture, they're chewier this way. Also it makes the next step easier.)

2. Mix in sugars.

Once butter(/sub) is soft/melted, pour in the white sugar and brown sugar. One at a time works better with softened butter, both can go in at the same time for melted. Mix until combined. It's going to have a very pasty, gritty texture.

3. Add eggs.

Crack your eggs into the mix, watch for shell bits. Mix in the eggs until all trace of them disappears, like a magic trick! The mix will still be gritty and unpleasant looking.

4. Add vanilla, salt, and baking soda.

I know the card lists flour next but it's better to do this here. It also helps keep you from forgetting the salt (🤡). Mix until these things disappear, and maybe a little more just to be sure everything is all distributed.

5. Add cinnamon.

It's going to look like a lot and smell intensely like pumpkin pie or apple pie and change the color from looks-like-chocolate-chip-cookies to a much darker brown, and you're going to go "...really? two tablespoons?" but trust the process. Really, two tablespoons. Stir! until combined and very brown.

6. Now add the flour.

One cup at a time!!!!! Or even half a cup at a time! Trust me adding all three cups at the same time will just make a mess and you'll be sad. One cup in, stir until it disappears. Repeat two more times. Now, like most cookie dough, the amount of flour is a little flexible. Once you've added all three cups, if your dough is still very sticky you need to add more flour! Personally I usually end up with about another... 1/4 a cup? but I live in a very humid climate. You're looking for a playdough-like texture! It sticks more to itself than the mixing bowl or spoon (/spatula, whatever you're mixing with. Hey don't use a whisk by the way.) You should be able to pick it up with your hands and move it without it sticking to you. If you've ever made the pilsburry roll of chocolate chip cookies, where you buy the dough in a little tube? Like that. If your dough gets too crumbly, and won't stick to itself anymore, you've gone too far!!! You can revive this with a little little bit of water, like a teaspoon at a time, until you get it back to sticks-to-itself. It really shouldn't take a lot, and you don't want to add too much because it can throw off bake times and make your cookies thin and weird.

7. Add pecans.

I like to do this step here, and sort of just fold them into the (play)dough. You could also put them in before the flour, with the cinnamon! Whichever is easiest or least aggravating, it doesn't especially matter. Just make sure they're not all clumped up together. Also the pecans are optional but (barring an allergy of course) I really would say leave them in and try it this way at least once! I would... not substitute in peanuts. Or any other nut I can think of, unless it has a similar texture to a pecan? Walnuts would probably be ok, if you're so inclined.

8. Throw those suckers in the FRIDGE baby

We generally separate the dough in halves for this step! It's not strictly necessary, but it makes things easier to manage. Take your dough out of the bowl and slap it onto some wax paper. (Do not use parchment paper, it will leach out the moisture and your dough will stick to it and become a little crumbly and you will be sad.) Using the wax paper like a weird blanket or burrito wrap, shape your dough into a vaguely rectangle shape, fold the wax paper over it so that it's completely covered, and then put your dough-log in the fridge. The dough absolutely *MUST* rest in the fridge for at least three hours. We usually leave it overnight! It's convenient and also generally yields best results. But, if you're in a little more of a rush than that, three hours is fine. But no less!!!!! We've baked them without letting them rest before and it just doesn't work as well and they burn so quickly and so completely. They turn into charcoal. Fridge your fridge cookies or suffer!!!!!!!!!!

9. Preheat & Bake!

Once they've rested for at least three hours, you can pull them out and throw them in the oven! You can shape them, if you like. Roll them into balls like chocolate chip cookies or .. I think cookie cutters could be used here? If you're quick about rolling them out. We slice them from the 'log' and lay them on a (greased or lined!) baking sheet straightaway, so the cookie is sort of long and vaguely rectangular. It makes them distinctive and also you want them as cold as possible when they go in the oven, to keep from burning, so this is the most efficient way to do it! But, the shape doesn't have any real significance, go ham. Bake for ... ~8-10 minutes, or until you see them getting dark around the edges (which, I know, is very difficult because they're already kind of dark.) It's kind of a guessing game? But, as mentioned above, they're good if you overshoot a batch by a little bit, and you can learn and aim a little lower for round two!

10. Enjoy!

These bad boys are so stupid good. Excellent coffee cookie. No idea if they go with tea but why wouldn't they? I'm gonna eat 100.

Okay this has been a cookie recipe, that's all, Happy Holidays ♥

[the-squeeze-inn]

Ingredients

Gluten free pumpkin sponge:

3 US large/UK medium eggs, room temperature

150 g (¾ cup) caster/superfine or granulated sugar

150 g (⅔ cup) canned pumpkin puree

½ tsp vanilla bean paste (or 1 tsp vanilla extract)

80 g (⅔ cup) plain gluten free flour blend (I used Doves Farm Freee plain gluten free flour that doesn't have any xanthan gum added. You can also mix your own gluten free flour blend using this recipe. Note that for this homemade blend, 1 cup = 150g, so ideally use a digital food scale for best results.)

¾ tsp xanthan gum (If your gluten free flour blend already contains xanthan gum, reduce the amount to ½ tsp.)

½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

¼ tsp salt

½ tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp ground ginger

¼ tsp ground nutmeg

Vanilla cream cheese filling:

155 g (⅔ cup) heavy/double cream, cold from the fridge

60-80 g (½-⅔ cup) powdered/icing sugar, sifted (depending on how sweet you want the filling to be)

½ tsp vanilla bean paste (or 1 tsp vanilla extract)

150 g (⅔ cup) cream cheese, cold from the fridge

You will also need:

1-2 tbsp powdered/icing sugar, for dusting the top of the cake

Instructions

Gluten free pumpkin sponge:

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position, pre-heat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC) and line a 10x15-inch (25x38cm) rimmed baking sheet with parchment/baking paper.

Using a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or a hand mixer fitted with the double beaters, whisk the eggs and sugar together until pale, thick, fluffy and about tripled in volume (the ribbon stage). This should take about 5-7 minutes on a high speed setting.

Add the pumpkin puree and vanilla, and whisk briefly until combined.

In a separate bowl, sift together the gluten free flour blend, xanthan gum, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg.

Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture and whisk well for about 15-30 seconds until no flour clumps remain. Scrape down the bottom and sides of the bowl to prevent any unmixed patches. The final batter will be smooth and fairly fluffy in texture.

Transfer the batter into the lined baking sheet and smooth it out into an even layer. You can tap it a few times on the counter to make it perfectly level and also to get rid of any large trapped air pockets.

Bake at 350ºF (180ºC) for about 12-14 minutes or until well risen, golden on top, soft and spongy to the touch, and an inserted toothpick comes out clean.

Immediately out of the oven, cover the baking sheet with a large sheet of aluminium foil. Allow to cool to room temperature or lukewarm – ideally, the temperature of the sponge shouldn't drop below 72ºF (22ºC).

Tip: Covering the sponge with aluminium foil traps the moisture within the sponge, making it much more pliable and flexible – and therefore less likely to crack when you roll it.

Vanilla cream cheese filling:

You can prepare this filling by hand with a large balloon whisk, using a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, or with a hand mixer fitted with the double beaters.

If using a stand or a hand mixer, whisk the filling on a low speed setting. This gives you better control over the texture/consistency of the filling and it lowers the chances of over-whipping it.

In a large bowl, whisk together the heavy/double cream and powdered/icing sugar until soft peaks form.

In a separate bowl, whisk the cream cheese until it's smooth and looser in texture.

Add the cream cheese and vanilla to the whipped cream, and whisk until well combined and soft peaks form.

Assembling the pumpkin roll:

Once the sponge is sufficiently cooled, remove the sheet of aluminium foil and loosen the sponge from the edges of the baking sheet with an offset spatula or a thin knife.

Tip: For the next steps, you can work with the sponge still in the baking sheet, or you can carefully slide it off the baking sheet onto a work surface – either option works well.

Spoon dollops of the filling evenly over the sponge, and use a small offset spatula to spread it out into an even layer all the way to the edges.

Note that when assembling the pumpkin roll, you want to get a 10-inch/25cm long pumpkin roll, starting out with a 10x15-inch/25x38cm sponge.

Turn the sponge so that a short edge is closest to you.

Using the parchment/baking paper underneath (the one that lines the baking sheet) to help you, lift the edge of the sponge closest to you and gently fold it over itself to start the roll.

Gently lift the parchment paper to continue the roll all the way to the end (so that the sponge rolls away from you) – the parchment paper should easily peel away from the sponge as you roll it. You should get a crack-free 10-inch (25cm) long pumpkin roll.

Tip: Make sure to keep the roll fairly tight from the very beginning, otherwise you’ll be left with an empty hole in the centre of your pumpkin roll.

Dust the pumpkin roll with some powdered/icing sugar before slicing and serving.

#pumpkin roll #gluten free

[country-n-sassy]

#30

What reminds me of home?

Short answer, Kansas

*If you're not interested in learning more about me than you probably care about, this is where you should continue scrolling. Fair warning.

Long answer, I was raised by my grandparents, very old school. They've both passed away, and my gradmpa (dad) passed away when I was 22, I was such a daddy's girl. Growing up, he worked for the state and inspected grain elevators during the summer (he did a lot of other things, I'm sure, but this is what I remember). My sister and I would get to go with him since we didn't have school, and all the ladies at the grain elevators would spoil us with pop and candy. My dad would tell us about the different crops (mostly wheat and barley) and answer our million questions. He would take us on detours to see different train tressels and bridges, and we would joke and laugh as we snacked on fritos, pimento cheese dip, string cheese and apples. We listened to Country Radio (back in the 90s), it was our compromise, my sister and I wanted to listen to Rock, and he wanted to listen to Jazz. It's been a long time and most of our grain elevators have been torn down, few remain and we barely see trains anymore, BUT I instantly felt at home in Kansas, it reminded me of driving with my dad and so many happy memories. I haven't felt home in a long, long time.... There are a couple things I have from my mom, an old wooden rolling pin and a yellow Tupperware bowl. My mom loved baking, and I can't even imagine how many apple pies and cinnamon rolls she made with those two things. *side note, don't even try to make apple pie or cinnamon rolls for me. They won't be like hers, and I will be disappointed, plus I'm not really an apple pie fan 😬 Also, don't expect me to make them either, baking is not my talent.

I'm sure by now you regret asking, but thanks for the ask @ibelongtobatman79 🥰 Hope you're enjoying your birthday weekend with @batman-2079 🎂

#ask #home #memories

[letmeplaytheliontoo]

Steve's Thanksgiving

I have had this idea since September and haven't had the time to write the whole fic but I wanted to put something out for today.

Thanks to @silkspiderstuff, @rae-gar-targaryen, and @mrshipsmcgee for letting me bounce ideas off them. This isn't edited so please be gentle with me. I should be cooking right now.

Steve decides he wants to host thanksgiving for the party a year or two after  the Vecna situation. It was resolved, everyone  lived,  don’t worry about details

Steve spend the early part of November in the Wheeler’s basement looking at Karen’s collection of recipe magazines and borrows her copy of Joy of Cooking

He wants to do this all by himself for everyone he loves.

Literally everyone says no to him doing it alone

Eddie and Robin spend the night before at Steve’s tearing up sage leaving and trying to help Steve defrost the bird and stay calm

Morning of, Steve wakes up to pounding on his door at 6:30 am, please picture him answering the door with his hair going every which way and wearing glasses

Hopper and Murray have shown up with cinnamon rolls made by Will and Joyce, all of the things needed to deep fry the bird, and enough beer to drown the town

Nancy and Jonathan show up next with the cornbread stuffing with all sorts of delicious things like onions and mushrooms and celery and craisins. There is plenty of it to go inside the bird as well as bake on its own

Please insert a scene of Nancy, Hopper, and Murray screaming about how to stuff/cook the bird while Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve look too tired to participate while they while quietly drink their coffee and eat the cinnamon rolls

Joyce brings her famous green bean casserole   

El and Robin make the mashed sweet potatoes with marshmallows

Murray does a thing with brussels sprouts and balsamic glaze that would, low-key be the best dish on the table but this will hardly get eaten because brussels sprouts

Eddie has a recipe for mashed potatoes that he ripped from a magazine he saw at the store. These are some of the most garlicky, creamy, buttery mashed potatoes you have ever seen. They are truly terrible for your heart but too delicious for anyone to care.

Wayne makes the gravy on the stove top without saying a word but he’s smiling quietly, enjoying the large boisterous family his nephew has brought him into.

Lucas and Erica’s mom has sent them with the most incredible breaded mac and cheese

Erica has brought her own spicey sweet potato dish because she didn’t want any of that marshmallow nonsense

Claudia and Dustin bring three pies, one of them is chocolate

Max insists and making Pillsbury crescent rolls

Steve has a bit of freak out realizing he forgot about the cranberry sauce.

Nancy tries to placate him by telling him she picked up some that canned nonsense but not to worry about because no one likes cranberry sauce anyway

Steve is not having it. He will not settle for this. Things have gotten away from him. He let everyone else take control but damnit, he will not settle for this. His family deserves better than this. They deserve more than he got. He needs this dinner to be perfect and he needs for there to be real cranberry sauce.

Eddie holds Steve by the shoulders and says, you want real cranberry sauce, we will make real cranberry sauce

Joyce and Eddie help Steve make a lovely cranberry sauce with bits of granny smith apples and dried apricots and chopped pecans. It’s a smashing success and everyone loves it

Mike and Will are bashfully flirting while everyone is “distracted” (no one is that distracted. Everyone knows and they think it’s adorable)

Hopper makes Steve carve the turkey (with a little direction to assist him).

Everything is delicious and dinner itself is amazing.

A football starts in the back yard after dinner and Eddie joins under great pleading from Steve. Eddie didn’t need the pleading but he likes how cute Steve looks when he does it. One tackle results in a very cute Steddie make-out. Hopper teases them but he laughs

Mike and Will do the dishes together

Robin ducks out to meet up with Vicky after giving Steve and giant hug and congratulating him on a job well done.

Max and Lucas fall asleep cuddled up the couch

El and Erica are lying on the floor, trying to fight their food coma while White Christmas plays on the TV.

Claudia specifically fawns over Eddie and asks for his mashed potato recipe

She gets a little tipsy and gently hits on Wayne who is surprisingly smooth but a complete gentleman about it

Joyce pulls Steve aside to tell him how well it went and how glad she is that he wanted to do this.

At the end of day, Steve and Eddie are in bed together and Steve mentions how surprised everyone came together like that.

Eddie reminds Steve that of course his family would for him.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #jim hopper #murray bauman #joyce byers #will byers #mike wheeler #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #wayne munson #the party stranger things #the party #stranger things fic #found family #thanksgiving #my writing