pennywarbler

[pennywarbler]

truly the wildest thing about all the Bridgerton discourse about "is Nicola Coughlan too FAT to be a convincing love interest???" is that in many ways she actually looks better in the period costumes than her thinner counterparts because she has the figure to really fill them out. those dresses are incredibly flattering on larger bodies because they emphasise the bust and cleavage whilst creating a very elegant silhouette. there's something unintentionally hilarious about hearing pearl-clutching in the distance over "idk is this FAT WOMAN sexy enough to be believable as an object of lust??" whilst Penelope Featherington's majestic heaving bosoms are almost spilling out of her dress in a category 5 titty event. if anything she's too sexy. they had to spend the first two seasons putting her in ugly dresses in a desperate attempt to conceal the fact that she's serving more cunt than the entire itty bitty titty committee combined

[pennywarbler]

rb to have a super gay 2023

[pennywarbler]

#Happy December 10th to those who celebrate 🎁 

[pennywarbler]

[pennywarbler]

Anyway Nancy hates cooking because she isn’t naturally good at it. There are very few things Nancy isn’t naturally good at, so when she’s 8 years old and accidentally dumps too much salt into the pan—and when Ted mutters something about how the food is inedible, despite Karen’s pointed praise of how Nancy made them dinner—she decides she’s never going to cook again.

That’s unrealistic, of course. Her mom all but forces her to help out in the kitchen, no matter how much it stresses out little 8, 10, 12 year old Nancy. She can chop vegetables and stir pots, but she refuses to touch the seasonings.

Once she’s a teenager, and her parents start leaving her to watch Mike and Holly once in a while, she finds herself floundering even more in the kitchen. After burning eggs, letting pasta boil over, and nearly poisoning her siblings with undercooked chicken, Karen starts making sure she always leaves leftovers if she and Ted are going out. It might be her imagination, but 14 year old Nancy swears her mother gives her a disappointed look every time she points out the leftovers in the fridge.

And once when she’s 16 and spending a rare night alone, she steps into the kitchen, determined to do this right at least once in her life. She ends up with little burns on her arms and a small cut on her thumb, frantically opening windows to get rid of the smoke. She gives up, fighting back angry tears as she cleans the dishes so no one knows she was even there. She goes to bed without eating at all.

Meanwhile you have Robin, who doesn’t really think she’s naturally talented at anything (even though she very much is) and so she doesn’t mind being bad at something at first. She’s creative and flexible, and the last thing she expects is perfection. If she messes something up in the kitchen—which she does, often—then she either comes up with a way to fix it or she tries again. She also has plenty of time on her hands with her parents either working or hanging out with friends so often. Her mother teaches her a few basic recipes, and by the time she’s 10, her parents deem her competent enough to feed herself whenever.

So she does. And, because she’s Robin and she gets bored easily, she makes a habit of finding new recipes whenever she can. She cuts them out of magazines or memorizes the ones she overhears other women sharing. Some of them take a few tries, but the more she learns, the more she enjoys cooking.

She loves it even more when she can share what she cooks with someone else. Once she learns Steve only gets home cooked meals when he has dinner with Dustin and Mrs. Henderson, she makes a point of keeping his kitchen stocked and cooking whenever she stays the night at his house. Which means she cooks for them—and for whichever munchkins are around at the time—nearly every day of the week.

So Nancy is hanging out with everyone at Steve’s one afternoon, and they dig through the abundance of leftovers in the fridge to make dinner. She asks when cooking became part of his babysitting resume, but the kids all jump to tell her that it’s Robin, actually, and how have you not had her food yet, Nancy, she’s such a good cook

A week later she goes over to Robin’s house to study with her and finds her in the kitchen, wearing an apron, a streak of flour on her cheek, beaming at Nancy when she walks through the door. “You didn’t have to make cookies just for our study date,” Nancy tells her. “I know. I wanted to. I like baking.” “What? Why??”

Cue Robin talking about how she loves cooking, loves the creativity, loves playing music and doing something that lets her move around a lot without thinking too hard, and especially loves getting to share with others, when so many of her childhood meals were just made for one.

“You don’t like cooking, I take it?” Robin asks. “Not my thing,” Nancy says quickly, not meeting her eyes.

Robin comes over for dinner at the Wheelers and brings a pie. Karen adores her just for the gesture, but when it turns out to be amazing, she decides Robin is her new favorite of all her children’s friends. Even Ted gives an absent compliment after taking a bite, and Nancy quickly excuses herself from the table.

Robin finds her upstairs later, pretending like everything is fine. She asks if the pie was really that bad, and despite holding back tears, Nancy laughs.

And it’s stupid, because Nancy knows she’s good at many things, and in the grand scheme of things she doesn’t give a fuck about cooking. But she’s just so bad at it, and she doesn’t like being bad at things.

Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t remember the last time she got a compliment from her father, but she sure remembers him insulting her food.

So Robin sits down beside her and tells her about the time she ruined her mother’s favorite pot by burning chili in it. She spent four hours trying to scrape a rock hard layer of beans and peppers and stewed tomatoes from the bottom before her mother found out. She had to save up for two months to replace it.

“But I’ve had your chili,” Nancy says. “It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, once I learned how to not turn it into charcoal.”

Robin tells Nancy, not for the last time, that her father’s an asshole. And the next time she cooks dinner for the two of them, she casually asks if Nancy wants to help.

Nancy doesn’t. Robin says that’s okay, too.

But Robin’s kitchen is such a pressure free environment. There’s music playing, and dishes everywhere, and she can’t use an ingredient without spilling it. So one day, Nancy nervously walks up behind her and wraps her arms around Robin’s waist. She stands on her toes and rests her chin on Robin’s shoulder and asks, quietly, “Can I help?”

Robin asks what she wants to do. So she chops vegetables and stirs the pot. Next time, she lets Robin guide her through stacking layers of lasagna. After that, they make Robin’s favorite vodka sauce. The next Saturday morning is spent trying to flip pancakes. There are plenty of mistakes and much more laughter, but even the ones that fall apart still taste good.

Nancy decides cooking really isn’t for her, but she doesn’t mind being in the kitchen with Robin one bit. Maybe, even, she learns a thing or two along the way.

[pennywarbler]

Eyes

I've always loved the colour green. It was the colour of my family and my ancestors and everything we've fought for. It was the colour of jealousy and spite and I was forever the queen of that. Green symbolised my childhood. But now green means you. Your eyes and our bedsheets. My favourite jumper on your sculpted abs. The trees on our favourite walk. I still love green but now it means something better. Something Warmer. You.

for @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'eyes'

[pennywarbler]

please buy stuff on my depop I'm broke lol

[pennywarbler]

Heartstopping

"You're going to be the end of me Mr Potter," Harry says breathlessly as Draco walks out of the en suite in only the smallest towel Harry had ever seen.

Draco smirks and Harry's heart stops again. Draco walks up to their bed where Harry is still lying. He takes off the towel and slides in next to him.

"Hi."

"Hi."

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'heartstopping'

[pennywarbler]

Shock

It wasn't a surprise when you told me you liked me back. I knew it was coming the first time we kissed. Our night of pure bliss was amazing but expected. The shock came when you stayed by my side while tears streamed down my face and held me when I woke myself up with screams.

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'shock'

[pennywarbler]

Blossom

We were born in the spring. When the blossoms were pink and the sky was blue. Then summer came with the scarlet strawberrys and picnics in the sun. Around came autumn. Falling in the leaves. Carving pumpkins. Winter brought Christmas and with it decorating trees and baking mince pies. It was spring again the sky's were blue and the blossoms pink.

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'blossom'

Sorry for being a bit late but I think I've finally come out of my writer's block so that's good

[pennywarbler]

Crash

[pennywarbler]

Pink

Your cheeks turn pink in the cold. Your eyelashes flutter when you sleep. Your face lights up when I'm around. You never leave the house without kissing me on the cheek. You always leave for the airport 7 hours early. You always play music in the car. You make me laugh, always. You.

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'Pink'

[pennywarbler]

goofiness is so attractive to me. If you can keep me laughing , you got me forever

[pennywarbler]

Could we crash tumblr if we all posted the word "crash" on the 1st of april 2022, 12:35 EST?

[pennywarbler]

Dare

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I smirk.

"Ok, ask Malfoy out," Ron smirks back.

I hesitate but stride up to him all the same.

"Potter, what do you want?" Draco huffs out.

"Um," suddenly I was nervous "do you -uh- do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade trip?" why did I want him to say yes?

"I did it," I told Ron, regaining my usual demeanour.

"I can tell. You look like you've seen a dementor."

"What did he say?" Neville piped in.

"He, uh, he said yes. We're going on a date next week."

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'Dare'

Kinda rusty on speech grammar but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

[pennywarbler]

Abrupt

Our time to together was short. Short and sweet. No, short but sweet. I cried the night that you left. No, I've cried every night since you left. I haven't washed the sheets in 3 months. I know your smell would go. I wish we had gone on more dates. I regret not taking anymore photos. I don't know what to do but what can you do when the only person you've loved is gone forever. Goodnight Harry.

For @drarrymicrofic 's prompt 'Abrupt'

Tw: MCD

[pennywarbler]

True. Also I LOVE leather jackets so much omfg but I can never seem to find any good ones. And yes I love leather jackets because of Rosa Diaz.

I just made my first quiz....

Please take it.