#I wanna Bake Sourdough Now

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

cowboy!reader i feel would be a big baker. casually just bringing in bread and cookies. one of the other agents is sick? they get dropped off their favorite treats and a water bottle. bad day? cookies on your desk the next day. i also feel like he would be a gardener or at the very least have an unhealthy amount of house plants. also a bird watcher. i have so many ideas oh boy.

- 🦦 (if not taken)

🦦isn't taken (I didn't even realise it was an emoji omg it's so cute) Also send me all the ideas please!!!

Cowboy reader taglist: (it's only one person but let me know if you wanna be tagged lol) @xweirdo101x

"Hey, y'all does anyone have any allergies?" You asked, walking into work one morning, tupperware box in hand.

"No," Hotch answered, before looking at you slightly cautiously. "Why?"

"I er, I was feeling, um, anxious? I guess," You said, placing your hat on your desk and dragging your hand over your hair, "So I baked. And I thought, since there's only me and I got a bit carried away, that y'all might want some?"

Spencer peaked over, "What's in the tub?"

"Oh, er, my Grandmama's cookies," You said with a grin as you pointed at the top tub, "And my Mama's sourdough bread."

A few days passed since then and you had made a habit of bringing in a tub of baked goods each day (you weren't lying when you said you have baked a lot). You got in early, expecting to be the first one there when you noticed Spencer sat at his desk, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Spence, you feeling a'right?" You asked, approaching the younger agent. Spencer looked at you giving a small nod. Seeing him hesitate, you sat down next to him, "I know I ain't a 'talk about my feelin's' kinda man, but I'm here if you wanna talk,"

"I- Cases like this make me wonder if I'm even making a difference."

You take a moment to let what he's saying sink in, "Kid, I want you to know that what I'm about to say is comin' from the bottom of my heart... But we'd be stuck six cases ago if it weren't for you." You state, "You're the reason we get through so many cases - don't tell Penelope I said that - but it's true. I ain't a man of feelin's and sentimental words, but you're the reason this team keeps goin'. Please don't even doubt yourself, because you're the most valuable member of this team."

Spencer doesn't say anything, just continues staring at his hands, "I- I'm not quite sure what to say to that..."

"There's nothin' to say, Kid." You give him a grin, "I'm just spittin' truth... Now don't tell anyone, but I got some cookies in my bag if you want 'em?" When Spencer nods, you fish through the bag, grabbing the box and hand them over. "Let me know what you think, I tried somethin' different."

"Thanks," He says softly, standing up to head to the breakroom.

"Oh, and er, don't forget to hydrate and all that," You add before making your way to your desk.

Bonus: The team meet (Y/N)'s house plants.

"This is Wyatt," You said, "He's a spider plant. And my baby," The team share a confused look, "And this is Percy, he's a money tree. These are my children and if anything happened to them I would cry."

"What about the others?"

"I haven't gotten round to naming them all just yet," You said with a shrug, "They're all new purchases,"

"How new?"

"Last month or so," You said, "I buy one or two after a hard case... We have a lot of hard cases..."

Silence filled the air, no one quite sure what to say, "Anyone want a cookie?" You asked, "I baked them last night,"

You watched the team fight for the box with a confused look.

[curtsycream]

Farmer’s Market Crush

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

warning: self indulgent fluff, can he please be my farmers market crush???, the reader has curly hair and is southern, the hair detail can be skipped over its not that important, his smile so pretty <33

She stood at her booth when she spotted him, in front of her was a variety of jams. From blackberry to peach all fresh and homemade. They were in adorable little glass jars that looked professional almost. “Can I help you with anything?”

Hotch hadn’t noticed her until she spoke his eyes focusing on her. He was a bit startled as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

She stood with a smile on her face as she looked at Hotch. “I’m sorry did I startle you? I apologize if I did…you just looked as if your mind was somewhere else!” She said sweetly.

Hotch had to stop himself from smiling at the question she just asked, he was most definitely zoned out at that point. That was until he heard that voice, so adorable and sweet sounding, with just the right amount of twang in it, it took all of his concentration to stay focused.

When she had asked if she startled him, Hotch simply shook his head, “No…no you’re fine… I apologize. It was….”

What should he say? He didn’t wanna tell her he had zoned out when he noticed her behind her booth.

She laughed softly as she shook her head, “don’t worry we all zone out sometimes..” she said in a understanding manner.

She was still smiling at him as if it was permanently etched onto her face. She found him handsome and truth be told she was staring at him for a bit before she finally spoke up.

Hotch cleared his throat not sure what else to say, he then saw her looking at him. Her sweet smile making her look sweeter than she did at first. Yet something about her…something about her was familiar. He knew what she looked like but it was also a certain way she carried herself…and that accent…that southern belle twang that made him almost melt in her presence.

Hotch finally remembered where he had seen her before. But she beat him to the punch when she spoke again.

“You look familiar,” she said tilting her head causing her curls to drape over her shoulder. She leans forward a little over her booth, “you’re with the BAU right? I think I spoke with you before at that little coffee house on Main Street..” she finally said.

That was it, he remembered her from that coffee shop. And in the back of his mind he had thought it was because she was involved in a recent case. He couldn’t explain just how happy that fact made him. And her accent only made his smile grow.

He looked over at her and nodded, “Yes…yes I am.”

Her accent making even the simplest sentences feel like love songs in his ears. “Your name is Y/N right?” His voice was soft and calm like a cool breeze on a summer’s night.

“Yeah Y/N!” She said with enthusiasm as she nodded her head at him. She knew he looked familiar as she had remembered hearing that voice before. Along with that face that seemed to hold just the right amount of endearment and warmth.

He nodded his head before he looked over at her booth, now noticing the sign that read “fresh jams, homemade. By: Y/N” and adorable little jars of jam. “You make these?”

“Yeah it’s a hobby, I make other things too! I make my own breads and even pecan pralines I like to think I make ‘em the best.” She boosted slightly. “I have all kinds of jams today…I hadn’t had the time to make breads in about a week.”

He listened intently as he examined her booth, seeing her homemade jams and baked goods was truly astonishing to him.

“You make bread?” Hotch’s voice was soft still as he thought back to one moment in his past.

“What type of bread?”

“I make French loafs, sweet breads, multigrain, whole wheat bread, honey wheat bread, sourdough, rye! I started making brioche that’s my favorite one!” She tells him with a smile.

His heart raced when he heard this. French loaf, sweet breads, honey wheat bread and homemade brioche…was this some sort of gift from above?

As he watched the gentle breeze blow her curls around her face he spoke up again. “You know, you make the same bread as my mother did when I was growing up.”

“Really? Does she still make bread?” She asked with interest. She found the idea of someone older making bread amazing. In her small neighborhood not many did or showed interest to continue.

He looked over at her. His eyes looked as if they had a glimmer of sadness to them. “Unfortunately she…has passed away.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said with a compassionate smile on her face. She had genuine sympathy in her E/C eyes as she spoke.

Hotch looked away for a moment, he didn’t want this woman to feel bad for him, he had come here to see the market. “What do you recommend?” He asked softly, looking over at her.

She took the hint as she looked back at him, “from any booth?” She asked. She knew each booth pretty well so recommendations came easy to her.

He truly appreciated how kind she was, just like his mother used to be. He then nodded his head once more “yeah, any booth. Since you work here you’d probably know the best recommendation, right?” he smiled again.

She points around, “if you’re into fresh produce Mr. Cook’s booth is perfect he spends his time with the vegetables he grows. He also sells them for dirt cheap because he just enjoys doing it! Oh and Mable the little old lady over there makes the best macarons! She has this hazelnut praline one that’s so good! But if you lack a sweet tooth and like savory…Henry the tall fella over there he has the best homemade chips. He mixes them with different things, I’ve never had honey chips before until I tried his.” She rambled with a smile.

Hotch was amazed at how sweet and adorable she sounded. Her voice was comforting in a way. When she was finished talking Hotch nodded in response, “okay. I think I’ll have to try out a sample of your home made jams. I also think I’ll go try out the honey chips too.”

His voice was calm, and his smile was warm. It was as if he was looking at the girl of his dreams. But maybe he was just being a bit overly dramatic.

She grins, “tell me what’s your favorite jam?” She said as she looked at him. There was subtle kindness in her eyes as she spoke to him.

He looked back at her, “blackberry is my favorite.” He wasn’t so sure why he was so flustered, “what’s your favorite jam, Y/N?”

His name sounded lovely whenever said with the southern accent and his heart raced even more with the look in her eyes. It was a genuine look, not of judgment or pretend, there was only sweetness and playfulness. Something about her made him nervous yet excited.

Y/N looks through her jams before picking up the blackberry one. She thinks for a moment, “mine would be apple jam…on a piece of toast it tastes like apple pie. It’s so good especially if you use honey crisp or cosmic apples..” she says.

She holds out the blackberry jam, “this one is on the house…call it a getting to know you gift.” She tells him.

He watches as she picks up the blackberry jam, his eyes gazing at her for what feels like forever for him “you sure? I can pay for it of course, you work very hard for this I can’t imagine you’d be giving this up for free.”

Hotch was almost too mesmerized by her beauty to speak at this point he was still flustered and nervous. The feeling of her kindness and charm was making him feel as if he was floating and in a dream.

Y/N waved her hand dismissively, “don’t worry about it…usually Mable comes through here and pretty much buys me out for the holiday seasons.” She reassured him.

Hotch was still worried but at least he knew she wouldn’t be losing money if he took that blackberry jam. “If you say so��thank you Y/N.”

Hotch then looked around the market. He hadn’t yet noticed Derek and Penelope standing watching the scene unfold.

“You’re always welcome Aaron..” she said in a soft tone. She noticed the onlookers before letting out a small laugh. “Hey…I think we should get to know each other better..” she started. “If you want to that is..”

Hotch felt the world go still and quiet. Her words felt like honey dripping from her sweet lips. Her accent made his stomach grow with butterflies and warmth and her sweet tone was like the lullaby he had been needing to hear.

“I…I would like that.” He spoke firmly. But his voice had more confidence now as he couldn’t stop gazing at her.

Derek then taps Hotch on the shoulder, “come on Hotch, let’s not hog this lovely ladies time.”

She watched as Hotch was lead away by his friend as she waved goodbye. As Hotch was walking away while being pestered by Penelope and Derek for answers he turned the jar in his hand. His eyes widening for a second as he noticed the number on the back of the jam label.

***-***-****, we should get to know each other more <3

[autogeneratedkahootnickname]

People saying the film should have ended with Blanc testing positive are very right and correct but, while we're doing post/mid credit scenes, I wanna find out how the almost definitely art-obsessed Phillip (gay, Hugh Grant, bakes sourdough) takes the news that after his husband's 4 day getaway to Greece the Mona Lisa is just gone now.

Benoit: 'So you see, the real lesson is that wealth is no indication of morality or wisdom, and the only way to shatter that illusion is to tear the system itself apart.'

Phillip: 'The Mona Lisa in the fucking sky?'

[periwinkle-the-11th]

Intro post!

i'm Peri!

I spend my time writing, reading, crocheting, embroidering, drawing, sewing, procrastinating my school work and complaining about everything under the sun.

Heres my pronoun page!

If you know me irl, i am begging you to leave. you know who you are. I know who you are. go away.

I post all my writing and various creations over on @pericreatesstuff and my ao3 is Peri_Writes

I don't post works on ao3 until they're finished and gone over by my beta, but my writing blog is mostly unedited snippets!

I'm in way way way to many fandoms so heres an incomplete list:

dc (specifically batfam and yj98)

pjo/hoo (I haven't read toa yet but its on my list)

kotlc

Voltron (ik, i'm judging me too.)

bridge to terabithea

Atla

Daylight Shooting Star (if you know dss I am begging you to be my friend I have literally never met anyone else who's read it)

Marauders

Sk8 the infinity

Ohshc

The Sky Fall Trilogy by shannon messenger (once again if you've read it (and liked it) I am begging you to be my friend its so so underrated)

The Lost Books: Scroll of Kings (SO SO SO UNDERRATED)

I listen to way to much music way to often, heres some artists/bands i like: Set it off, pierce the veil, taylor swift, Fin (steffan argus), conan gray, PEGGY, olivia rodrigo, alec benjamin, one direction, Natalie jane, sadie jean, my chemical romance, fall out boy, NF, MARINA, Maren Morris, Dove cameron, girl in red, sabrina carpenter, melanie martinez, Avril Lavigne, Madonna, Ke$ha, little mix, Queen, Billy joel, Zara Larsson, Maisie Peters, Lauren spencer smith, ABBA, and literally so many more

and my tags:

#peri personal - just about everything not fandom related/interactions w people/my life

#peri complains - self explanatory really

#music rambles - rambling about music, mostly when new songs/albums come out

#allis adventures - various stuff about my sourdough! her full name is Allison Breadorthy and she is ALIVE

#baking Breadorthy - actually baking her

#my memes - crappy memes i make, mostly reblogged from my writing blog

#writing related - self explanatory but its mostly me complaining about my fics, plot holes i find, and polls bc i'm indecisive

#friends <3 - my actual conversation style interaction with my mutuals

#wtf dc - for whenever i find out that something that sounds just a bit to out of pocket to be cannon in dc, is cannon in dc. (ex: bruce's grandmother killing her husband, the candle ritual, dick shaving his hair and going by rick, etc)

#janet's life - my self indulgent canon compliant backstory for Janet Drake

#lena and tim - my even more self indulgent au where Lena Luthor adopts Tim Drake after his parents die, the fic is being plotted currently. THE FIC IS CANCELED!!! LEX IS LENA'S BROTHER! LENA IS KON'S AUNT!! THE PLANNED TIMKON IS LEGAL INCEST! (why does this keep happening??? TvT)

#bravery points game - I've started playing a points game with my anxiety, where every time I do something that scares me/my anxiety told me would end in disaster I get a point! It's stupid but it's motivating, I'm being brave! (Even tho it's terrifying) I do really have a points goal but I wanna try to get to 100 before the end of the year!

Thats all for now!! I'll probably update this once i realize i forgot smth tho

[shoku-and-awe]

Forgive the glamour shots and the wall of text—it’s just that I’ve been in Japan since 2009 and this is the first time I’ve ever baked cookies here. For years, I didn’t have an oven (practically no one did), and then I had a very low-powered oven, and now my expensive, electric, relatively-low-powered oven can only fit 6 at a time and it takes forever and they bake unevenly so it rarely seems worth the work, but….. look, cookies!

The recipe is these brown butter sourdough discard chocolate chip cookies. They’re very tasty (and a good balance of crispy-chewy), but quite sweet with the Japanese chocolate. I topped them with a little pink flaky salt but they would be great with a lot. I’d also reduce the sugar next time, maybe substantially, but I know sugar is a structural component in cookies and don’t wanna fuck them up. How much can I cut, I wonder.

Also the sour flavor wasn’t at all noticeable, even after letting the dough sit about 24 hours (recipe recommends 4 to 24). I still have tons of dough waiting to freeze so maybe I’ll see if it’s sourer tomorrow and then freeze it once the flavor gets interesting. That’ll be nice—I won’t have to wait 13 years for the next batch :)

[thychesters]

#wipwednesday! haven't done one in a minute. the food supplies on the sunny have gone back and sanji et. al are about to have a very bad time.

this is part of a bigger fic i told myself i could try to have a rough draft of done by halloween and lmao. we'll shoot for the end of the year now. maybe. potentially.

text under the cut:

“Something’s off with the water,” he says, “I gotta get Franky up to see if the filtration’s working properly.” He doesn’t admit that Sanji told him to do it—he was going to anyway, of his own volition, because he’s looking after his crew. “The cook doesn’t wanna mess with it if it can contaminate the food.” Nami’s expression clouds, but neither get the chance to touch on the fact it still sounds like Zoro’s doing Sanji a favor—which he will vehemently deny and she will never let go. “Ah, fuck!” Sanji comes tearing out of the pantry, clutching a loaf of bread that’s mostly blue while his face purples, biting an unlit cigarette in half. Zoro eyes the moldy, festering mess that was once a loaf of sourdough, painstakingly crafted and left to rise before filling the gallery with the scent of fresh baked bread. He remembers Sanji slicing it up for breakfast, looking rather pleased with the results but not saying anything about it himself, not outright. (His pride was in the way he carried himself, the way he set out plates and passed dishes, the bend to his spine as he refilled Robin’s mug and only cuffed Luffy upside the head twice.) “Sanji, it’s not so bad,” Nami offers, but even her sweet tone doesn’t do much to smooth the harsh line of his shoulders. She’s sat up more, but even as he leaves the loaf on the counter Zoro can see the tremble in his frame, the way he glares down at the bread and Nami continues to try to soothe him, platitudes falling on deaf ears. In the entire time he’s known him, Zoro has never seen Sanji waste any food—even the egg shells and rinds get repurposed into compost for the grove, and onion and celery scraps get tossed into a pot with chicken and ham bones for stock.

[steelycunt]

3 things i wanna know about you :)

how do u usually wear ur hair/what kind of hairstyle do u have rn!

fav type of bread to eat, and fav type of bread to make [im counting this as one thing but ig it could count as 2. sorry]

how do u take ur tea

hi my love!! thank you!!

my hair is just. down right now and that is how i usually wear it!(unless im not leaving the house in which case. a bun is my lifesaver xx) my hair can be so much work honestly and i am. not good at doing it so down is usually safest :-/ i like a half up half down style but it often ends with the having 2 cut a hair band out of my hair with scissors at the end of the day and sometimes it’s just not worth it xx

BREAD!!!! my favourite topic. i like all kinds of bread it is the one thing my fussy-eating self always knew was safe as a child…my favourite for toast is sourdough and i also love tiger bread but generally just anything with a good crust….it’s all good…and to MAKE!! ive only tried one type so far which is just a plain white loaf because im not a great baker i would not trust myself to get too complicated but. if i had the time to commit to it…baking my own sourdough…that’s the dream xx

i take my tea milk no sugar!! classic understated timeless….can’t go wrong innit

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 2/14/2023

Welp, the great "don't force myself to write when I don't wanna" experiment is over. I got real heckin' depressed and it was bad, so I started making myself write again, and it lifted. Perhaps it's a coincidence, I don't know, but this sort of holds with how the last four years of my life have been going. Trying to scrape dregs out of an empty jar isn't exactly fun, but it's what I gotta do, I guess.

Anyway, the good news is that I'm not being too mean to myself. I stole @bleachbleachbleach 's method of requiring myself to write one sentence on my WIP every day. I've managed to make it every day. One of the main things that happened (and this sort of thing always happens when I set goals) is that I realized that if I did only one sentence a day, it would take me forever to finish, which has pushed me to do more than the minimum. For the first few days of the week, I was doing about 100 words a day, which is still very paltry, but I think I've done more than that the last few days.

The thing I am working on is a story I started in 2019, which I have always been very fond of, except that it's a mess. The first paragraph is in a difference POV than the rest of it. It's mostly written in the present tense, except where it's not. Most importantly, it just sort of stops where I ran out of ideas. It's possible this was not the best possible project for me to dive into in my current mental state. I've been working on it, but I feel like it keeps getting worse 😂. Like, I re-wrote that first bit, and I just don't like it as much. Also, even though I know I should never, ever, never ever write in the present tense...I... think it works better that way? I'm seriously considering switching it back?? Also, it is primarily a world-building story, and as soon as I started on it, I realized that there were a bunch of holes in my world-building and it's been so hard to make any kind of decisions about anything. (I spent a week trying to figure out if this one guy has a wife or not. It seems like a thing I should just be able to decide except that it's also sort of the entire crux of the story)

At least I didn't have to start from nothing. The original story was about 2900 words, and my intuition is that the final product is going to end up between 5 and 10k. This is a great size for a story, the easiest size of story to write, and I'm honestly just mad that I'm so bad at all of this, and I'm worried that at the end of the day, the thing is gonna suck because I've lost my touch. Anyway, right now, it's 1768. It's nowhere near what I know I'm capable of when I'm on (when I'm really fucking on), but I'm faking it 'cause I have to, and it's going okay, I guess.

I don't know what's up with my art, either! I just don't really have any ideas I'm excited about! I did a tutorial this week with some pastel brushes, and then I turned around and did a Valentine's Day art project with the same brushes. I feel like it's probably a good time to do some skillbuilding, but, man, skillbuilding kinda sucks. 😂

The one good thing that did happen this week is that I finally made a decent loaf of sourdough! Look at these guys!!

They were so springy and good in the middle and nice and crusty on the outside! The secret turned out to be a combination of getting my starter more active generally, and actually following an every-six-hour feeding schedule the day before I baked it (the last feeding was ten hours because it was overnight and I had to get my kid off to school in the morning) It was 100% naturally leavened (no commercial yeast at all). I followed this King Arthur recipe.

The discard recipe of the week was Little Spoon Farm Blueberry Muffins, which were every bit as good as the recipe promised, if you like sweet, cakey, grocery-store style muffins. Little Spoon Farm is becoming my go-to for discard recipes, they haven't missed yet.

[schmem14]

15 Questions | 15 People

Rules: Answer these 15 Questions, then Tag 15 People (LOL no way I tag 15 people, but I’ll try)

No one tagged me, this just looked fun and I’m avoiding things while my minions watch Wall-E

1. Are you named after anyone? No because I’m the middle child. Which means I have the most popular girl name for the year I was born. YAY. 😬

2. When was the last time you cried? Last night. Mr. Schmem and I were having a pointless argument and I got very emotional. Don’t worry, we’re all good now, but splitting hairs when I’m in a bad mood is what I do best. 

3. Do you have kids? Oh, you mean, minions that look like kinda like me and talk back incessantly? why yes, I do believe I have some of those wandering under foot. 

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? When I’m pissed off, absolutely. I become a sarcastic hissing cat and I kind of hate that about myself, but it’s a coping mechanism and it gives me a dopamine high to be a bitch sometimes. 

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?  It’s mostly subconscious and I’m a human so I definitely judge the book by its cover, at least for a millisecond before I decide whether to keep being judgmental, or feed myself the override codes. 

6. What’s your eye color? Blue, but not the pretty kind. The murky, grey-ish blue that looks blaaaahhh/colorless from far away. You have to get up REAL CLOSE to appreciate the shade of blue. Mr. Schmem likes it though, so that’s good. 

7. Scary movies or happy ending? Both. There is a time and a place, they are equally satisfying in their own context.   

8. Any special talents? Monkey see, monkey do. I’m one of those “jack of all trades, master of none” people who picks up new skills and tinkers with them until I feel like I’ve gotten what I wanted out of them before moving on. I think it’s my way of coping with the fact that I’m not much of a traveller (not ‘cause I don’t wanna be, but because of my adorable minion baggage and the fact that I’m a broke ass millennial.)

9. Where were you born? St. Louis, Missouri. I’ve lived a lot of places, though and I don’t remember it well. 

10. What are your hobbies? Outside of fandom??  Sourdough baking. Quilting. Knitting. Sewing. Hiking. Yoga. Reading. (I do 50 about books a year in addition to fic reading). Netflix and Chill. Cooking delicious food that my minions refuse to eat. Decluttering my house (I am an optimistic minimalist enthusiast who is always battling with holiday and birthday gifts and the thousands of papers they send home with minions from school.) Painting, sometimes, but abstract, not figure/portrait stuff. 

11. Do you have any pets?  No. Allergies out the wazoo here. Best we could do if we wanted is a reptile, amphibian, or fish. Hard pass on all of the above. 

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I suck at sports, mostly because I have no interest in them. If I did have an interest, I’m confident I could learn. I will not play volleyball though, under any circumstances. Too many broken glasses. 

13. How tall are you? 5'7″

14. Favorite subject at school? Science, specifically the life variety. Don’t even try to talk Physics to me. Oh! and I LOVED Statistics, surprisingly. 

15. Dream job? Since I burnt out as an educator, I’m literally open to anything flexible, that pays, and that I can put down at the end of the day and not think about until tomorrow. (mental health reasons)

Tags (feel free to ignore or participate!!): @the-francakes @sliebman10 @coconutice22 @broomsticks @defaultchaos1 @nanneramma @peachpety @lumosatnight @eggbagelsjr @millennialgrandma @eevans22 @dodgerkedavra @thebrokequill @emberandrain @holygnocchi 

I think that’s 15 but if I missed you, participate anyways and tag me so I can learn more about you! <3

[wraenata]

Sorry to hear you're not feeling well D: I wish you a peaceful recovery and sending lots of love (and perhaps some freshly baked bread) your way <333

(not sure if gifs work in inbox but bleh)

I also wanted to ask if you have an oc or sona in case we ever wanna draw something for you in return :3

Aw thank you so much Helli <3 I think the gif will work when I post this! I really appreciate all the love and virtual hugs and fresh warm bread. Actually sourdough sounds really good right now. I do have some hmmm

I'm going to work tomorrow even if it kills me haha. Though it's going to be hot wearing an N95 all week oof.

And I don't really have a specific sona oops. I mean I have been thinking about making one but I haven't gotten around to it. For now I just represent myself with whatever bird strikes my fancy. I try to add a heart pattern somewhere and a long dark green bow on the neck and that's it. cHArActeR dEsInG iS My pAsSiOn haha/lhj

You don't have to make me any art but that is so sweet! <3 But I'll put the ones I have done below the cut :3

Thanks again Helli I appreciate you so much <3

[scrikb]

waking up before them. watching the pot on the stove. there's so much to do but not in this moment. right now, all there is to do is wait for the water to boil.

xanders sister had thrown around the idea of a kettle- she mentioned it every time she visited, actually- but xander never pushed for it. i dont know if it's just because he couldn't be bothered or if, at some point, he'd picked up on my little ritual and decided to let me be. either way, we never talked about it.

"are you studying today?"

no, i'm waiting for the water to boil, "maybe"

"hm" a pause as he waits for me to acknowledge him probably. unlike xander, billy wasn't one to just let things be.

the kitchen feels different depending on who's in it. billy makes the space feel smaller. he's just like that.

"xander and i are gonna swing by minnies later to pick up the sourdough if you wanna come with" i feel him move behind me but i don't turn. i might miss the pot boiling.

"maybe"

and then he's leaving and the room feels a little bigger again. i think minnie has got to be sick of us by now- she baked for us once and we've been coming back ever since. she made the first loaf for xander really, a post-sex thankyou gift. billy knows this but bread is just bread to him so he drags xander back to her apartment every now and then, even if the sex stopped long ago.

the steam has started but the lid is yet to rattle. not long now. i need to get a cup. and a teabag. but i don't feel much like moving right now.

i don't like to interrupt the stillness until i absolutely have to. so i stare a little longer. a watched pot never boils. until it does, of course, and then i'm pulling the pot from the hotplate, picking a cup from the dishrack, balancing the lid on the edge of the sink while i reach for a teabag.

only once the tea is poured does everything else come into focus. yes, i should study today and yes, i should visit minnie. i know she appreciates the small talk i strike up to keep her from having to talk to xander. silly, really. i think she should just tell billy she doesn't bake anymore.

"earl grey?" xander.

i take a sip too early and the water burns my tongue, "no, english breakfast"

"i thought you didn't like that one?"

i manage a shrug. turns out i hadn't woken up before them. "it needs using up"

"maybe minnie likes english breakfast" billy's back. and unable to drop the subject apparently.

"we are not taking half a box of english breakfast to minnie" xander sounds exasperated. looks like he isn't looking forward to that small talk.

"we could" i say, attempting a second sip at my tea, "it'll be awkward anyway, no harm in making it a little worse"

"see" billy sounds a little too triumphant for this time of morning but again, he's just like that. and the tea is still too hot.

xander decides to let it go. billy takes the tea canister off the counter. i wrap my hands around my mug in prayer- if i will for it hard enough, maybe they'll leave the kitchen again.

[enigmalynne]

Quarantine Kitchen - an SPN FanFic featuring Crowley

Title – Quarantine Kitchen Pairings – Crowley, Sam, Dean Word Count – 2,467 Warnings - None Square filled – Crowley Prompt: A villain’s plans are thwarted by a virus rampaging the globe. Now that they must remain inside and their plans have been ruined, they’re forced to pick up a hobby.

Crowley stormed into his chambers, the fury rolling off him.

“Somebody find Pestilence. Search every hospital and clinic on this God-forsaken planet and find that bloody horseman. Only he has the power to create a disease that would shut everything down and force everyone to remain in their homes,” he bellowed. Demons around him cowered. Crowley looks around at the many demons who weren’t moving. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

“Sire, it… according to the news reports, it wasn’t Pestilence that did it,” one of the demons stuttered out. Crowley turned his narrowed eyes to the cowering demon who stepped forward to speak.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” he asked. “Who else could have possibly done this if it wasn’t Pestilence?”

“Well,” the demon said, feeling a little braver. “The news reports are saying it came from China.”

“China!?”

“Yes, sir… It’s related to China and a bat, or a monkey or something,” the demon explained, looking around to the others for support. Another demon nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s all over the world. Not just here,” the other demon said. Crowley turned and faced them, pointing at the demon.

“You’re telling me that some wanker in China played with a bat or a monkey, and he caused this disease? And it’s all over the world? Is everyone shut down??” Crowley raged. The demons took a step back, fearing for their lives, as they nodded.

“Pretty much, yeah,” one of them said. Crowley’s eyes narrowed.

“Show me.”

A few hours later, Crowley sat at his ornate desk in dejection. Not only did he learn about how bad this coronavirus was, he realized just how checked out with national news he had become during his battles with the Winchester brothers.

“Their hoarding toilet paper and bleach,” he said, reading articles on his computer. The demon sitting next to him nodded.

“They are telling people they can only leave their homes to get food if they can’t get it delivered. Thousands of people have already died from this,” the demon said. Crowley scowled as he continued scanning the news page.

“Why didn’t we think of something like this?” he muttered under his breath. The demon beside him began to respond, causing Crowley to throw a hand up. “It was a rhetorical question! How long are we supposed to be secluded in our homes?”

“We... I don’t know?” the demon responded timidly. Crowley turned narrowed eyes toward him. “There hasn’t been a time defined yet. Just that we are to quarantine until further notice to keep ourselves safe from catching the virus ourselves.”

“Bollocks.”

One month turned into two, then four, then six. Crowley was starting to go stir crazy with being restricted to only his chambers. He’d already been through his Netflix queue, a streaming service his subjects set up for him. He’s read everything in his library. The internet was boring for a man like him, video games left him disinterested, and killing his demons was leaving him less and less satisfied.

“Why not pick up a hobby?” one of his most loyal subjects, Nya, asked him.

“A hobby,” Crowley deadpanned. Nya nodded.

“Sure. There are all kinds of things we could try our hands at,” she suggested with a shrug. Crowley turned to her with a raised brow.

“What do you suggest?” he questioned her.

“Well, there’s painting or writing. If you want to do something more challenging, you could try your hand at sewing your own clothing,” Nya said with a smirk. Crowley glared at her with fire in his eyes. “Didn’t think so. What about baking bread?”

“Baking bread?”

“Yeah,” Nya said. “It’s a big thing right now topside. Bread and other baked goods are pretty scarce because of all the hoarding, so more and more people are trying their hand at making it themselves.”

“Bread,” Crowley said again. Nya nodded.

“We’re running out of people for you to kill, Sire. Let’s try it.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

It was a challenge for Nya and Crowley at first. Gathering the ingredients to bake their first loaf of bread was a challenge since shelves at the stores were empty. Thankfully, Nya was able to track down things like flour and yeast. After they had all their ingredients, the two went into the top-of-the-line kitchen Crowley had installed and got to work.

Following the instructions Nya printed off the internet, Crowley went through the steps of making a loaf of banana bread. As it baked in the oven, Nya put together a Sourdough starter.

“The hell is that?” Crowley asked her.

“It’s the starter for sourdough,” she replied. Crowley lifted a brow.

“Sourdough needs a starter? It isn’t a car, my dear,” he replied. Nya smirked at him as she stirred the flour and warm water with a fork.

“It’s so cute you think you know anything about baking,” Nya said. “I’ll take care of the starter, and in 7 days we’ll be ready to make our sourdough.”

“No, you don’t get to dismiss me, bint,” Crowley snarked. “You’re the one who got me into this baking mess. You explain this.” Nya laughed, the sound light and easy as it echoed in the kitchen. The sound startled the King of Hell, though he didn’t show it.

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she replied. She then went on to explain why they needed a starter and the science behind the baking. Crowley listened curiously, his attitude shifting slightly.

“Where did you learn to bake?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her explanations. Nya’s smile shifted to something more nostalgic.

“Before. A long time ago, before crossroad deals and hell,” she said, turning and putting the jar of sourdough starter in a cabinet next to the refrigerator. “It was something I did when my family was still very young and very new. It makes the time go by very quickly.”

Just then, a timer rang out, and Nya turned to the oven. Crowley watched as Nya picked up the oven mitts, opened the oven door, and removed the pan of banana bread. The smell that came from the browned bread was intoxicating, and Crowley’s mouth instantly started watering.

Nya took the loaf out of the pan and sliced two thick pieces of bread, setting each on a plate. She placed a fork on one before handing it to Crowley, a brow quirked. He took it eagerly.

“Bon appetite,” Nya said, digging into her piece. The light moan that came from Crowley as he chewed his first bite brought warmth to Nya’s chest.

“Okay,” Crowley said. “Maybe there is something to this baking thing.”

While the two waited for the sourdough starter to prepare, Nya showed Crowley how to bake some of her other favorite things: muffins, brownies, easy loaves of bread, cookies, and various types of scones (which was a big hit for the British demon). It was the day before the starter would be ready when Crowley came in with a request.

“Can you show me how to make a pie?” he questioned. Nya looked at him in surprise as she tied on her apron.

“A pie?” she asked. Crowley nodded a little self-consciously.

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you know how to make one?” Nya nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I know how to make one. I’m just curious why you want to make one. We have plenty of sweets already,” she said, waving a hand at the mountains of pastry boxes that littered the kitchen counters. Crowley bristled and lifted his chin, but Nya spoke before he could speak.

“What kind of pie do you want to try?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said instantly. Nya nodded. She pulled out a notepad and started writing down a list of items they needed, then handed it to Crowley.

“Get me those items, and we can make an apple pie,” she said with a smirk. Crowley nodded and shouted for one of his lesser demons, sending him on a shopping trip.

An hour and a half later, the two were eating slices of homemade apple pie while a second was baking in the oven. The kitchen soon filled with the scent of apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Crowley had his eyes closed as he chewed a bite of the pie. Nya turned and saw him, freezing in her actions.

“Hey!” she snapped. Crowley startled, eyes opening wide in fear.

“I told you to wait for the whipped cream!” she snarked. Nya started stirring the whip inside the metal bowl she had in her hand again while glaring at Crowley. His expression turned sheepish as he finished chewing and swallowed the bite of the pie.

“I’m sorry, love,” Crowley purred. “It just smelled so good, and I made it makes it taste so much better.”

Nya smirked at him in understanding, setting the bowl down between them. She scooped a dollop of the whipped cream, dropping it on top of his piece of the pie. She smirked before doing the same to her piece.

“Now try it,” she said, picking up her fork. Crowley scooped up a bit of the white cream then stabbed a large section of the apple pie. The cool cream against the warm apples and flaky crust melted in his mouth, and a slight moan escaped him.

“I get why Squirrel loves his pies so much if all of them taste like this,” Crowley groaned out, digging into another bite. Nya’s smile turned to understand.

“I thought that’s why we did this pie,” she said softly. Crowley shot the woman a look, and she gave him a shrug.

“You have a sweet spot for them; I get it. Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, just as the timer started to go off. She stuffed another bite of her slice of pie into her mouth before turning to stop the timer and grab the oven mitts. She pulled the pie out, admiring the lattice pattern she walked Crowley through making.

“Besides,” she started, showing Crowley the pie. “Look what we get out of it.” Crowley looked over the pie as Nya slid the third one into the oven and set the timer. Crowley smiled, feeling proud of himself in a completely different way.

“Okay! Today’s the day, Crowley!” Nya said. “Ready to make some sourdough?”

“Just tell me what the steps are,” he said, tying his apron around his waist. The two moved fluidly in the kitchen together, Nya giving him instructions and Crowley doing everything smoothly.

“Now squish the mixture together with your hands,” Nya said. Crowley gave her a disgusted look causing her to laugh. “Just get your hands dirty, big man.”

“Let it sit for 30 minutes for autolyze, and then we let it rise. While that’s happening, we can make something else if you want,” Nya said as Crowley washed his hands. He dried his hands with a dish towel, tossing it over his shoulder when he finished.

“Let’s make another batch of the dough. Then, we can make some more scones, and perhaps some clotted cream,” he suggested. Nya nodded as the two got to work. Four hours later, there were orange and cranberry scones cooling on some racks in the corner with icing drizzled on them, the cream was in the fridge, and they were moving back to the bread. Crowley and Nya had their dough separated for two loafs each.

“You can set it in any different way you like. You can make it a round loaf or an oval one or set it for any design you like,” Nya said. Crowley made one of his loaves into a round one inside a Dutch oven, scoured through the center; the other put in a loaf pan. Nya chose to make individual loaves with hers.

Roughly an hour later, the first loaf was out of the oven and ready for tasting. Crowley sliced the first loaf, steam rising from the bread filling the kitchen with a delicious scent. He handed a slice to Nya, and they both took bites of the bread. Crowley’s eyes lit up at the taste of the bread.

“This is amazing,” he said. Nya nodded.

“And you made it yourself,” she said with a smile.

The two spent the rest of the day cooking their sourdough. By the end of the day, they had loaves, buns, and rolls that were all made from the sourdough starter Nya had made. She showed Crowley how to feed the starter so it would continue to grow, and he could make more bread later.

“We need to get rid of some of this stuff; we’re getting a little full in here,” Nya said, taking a bite of a scone as she looked around the kitchen. Crowley looked around himself, a smile forming on his face.

“Who sent this?” Sam asked. Dean showed him the card.

“Crowley,” he replied, looking over the giant basket of baked goods. There were muffins and scones, bread and rolls, brownies and cookies. “Said he was going crazy during the quarantine and found a hobby. Needed to clear out some space.”

“And he… made all of this?” Sam asked, looking over the pastries. Dean shrugged.

“I guess? Wait, is that a pie?!” he responded, snatching the apple pie from the basket. Sure enough, there in the mix was an apple pie. Dean wasted no time ripping off the plastic wrap. He brought the pie to his face and inhaled deeply, groaning out his pleasure.

“You’re not gonna eat that, are you?” Sam questioned. Dean looked at him incredulously.

“Damn right, I am, Sammy. It’s pie,” Dean said, turning to get a fork. Sam raised a brow at his back.

“From CROWLEY!” he shouted.

“He’s not going to kill us by sending us a care package, have a little faith. Read the card,” Dean shouted from the kitchen. Sam sighed, picking up the card and reading.

Moose and Squirrel –

I’ve discovered a new hobby thanks to this bloody mess China has given us. The more I learn, the more I make, and it seems I’ve made too much. Perhaps this can be a temporary truce until we can leave our homes again.

Cheers – Crowley

“I don’t know who taught him to bake, but his pie is amazing,” Dean said with a mouth full. He plopped down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table next to the basket. Sam shook his head, tossing the card on the table with a sigh. The scones did look good, he thought. He grabbed one that looked like it had orange zest in it and took a tentative bite.

“Wow,” he muttered, looking at his brother. Dean nodded.

“I know,” Dean said.

“So, what do you want to learn next?” Nya asked. Crowley just smiled.

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

���There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[thiscastielhasflown]

day three of day two of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: movie night or baking dean just wants to watch brokeback mountain in peace and cas is there to enjoy the emotional roller coaster ride. (2.1k) [does contain spoilers of the movie's plot, you have been warned]

"Okay choose — Midnight Cowboy or Brokeback Mountain?"

Cas looks directly at Dean who is standing in front of him holding two DVDs and smiling wide with eagerness. To celebrate and commemorate their first Pride Month official out together, both collectively decided to watch a different LGBTQ+ themed movie every night during June (if at all possible).

Rather than the Winchester/Leahy family's normal Tuesday night movie routine, Sam and Eileen were more than willing to change up their usual viewing schedule — even helping to prepare and order movies unavailable to be streamed. But sadly this night coincided with their short weekend getaway trip up to Donna's cabin for a needed change in scenery from the bleak walls of the bunker. No matter how good the movie choice was going to be for those nights, nothing compares to either couple getting some alone time together.

Cas and Dean are left alone to watch a movie in the newly renovated 'Dean Cave' — now including a larger sectional couch (to fit everyone more comfortably), an LED monogrammed neon light of Dean's nickname from Cas, 'Titan', along with new pictures hung up from a recent family photoshoot, and a new stereo sound system all set up by Dean earlier that day.

While Dean was busy with that, Cas was in the kitchen trying out a homemade sourdough pretzel dough recipe — made with his own fermented starter — along with a batch of double-chocolate chunk brownies with lines of caramel crisscrossing across the top as their movie viewing snack for the night.

"I thought we were watching the Trixie Mattel documentary."

"I know we agreed on that, but I'm more into a gay cowboy sort of mood tonight. You feel me?"

Cas blinks, "I haven't felt you yet."

"Cas, it's a figure of speech. Stay on track. Which one do you want to watch?"

"Isn't Trixie a gay Western icon as anyway?"

Dean hesitates, "Well, I would say not exactly. Maybe because of her music style and love for Dolly—"

"Parton, we've listened to her music before," Cas interrupts.

Dean smiles, "Yes we have. We've listened to Trixie too. So I guess it depends on who you ask if they’d categorize her as a modern gay Western icon in the drag business. We're sidetracked, please just pick one."

"Okay, sorry. How about the one with the happier ending."

Dean pauses to think, "I don't think either end up happy."

"Then the one where someone doesn't die."

Dean pauses again, "I...do believe someone dies in both of them."

"Then what are the differences?"

"To be honest, there really aren't that many," Dean laughs it off, "They both take place within the same 1960s setting, even though Brokeback was made in 2004. There are two main male characters in both, who aren't close in the beginning but end up so by the end. Um. The biggest difference is that Brokeback actually takes place in Western-type locations, where Midnight Cowboy setting is in New York. Is any of this helping in your decision process?"

"To be honest, not really," Cas stands up from the couch and adjusts his shirt, "Well, you go ahead and make the final decision, okay? Let me go grab the pretzels and brownies from the kitchen while you get it set up. Want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Can you bring extra cheese sauce too?" Dean answers.

"Of course, nacho or cheddar?"

A sparkle glazes over Dean's eyes as he looks at Cas, a smirk making its way across his lips, "How about both?"

"Sure can," Cas leans in to give Dean a kiss on the cheek, brushing his hand up against the other man's shoulder, "Be right back."

Dean watches Cas walk out of the room with a smug look on his face, admiring his love before bending down in front of the TV console and turning on the DVD player to give it time to boot up. He looks back and forth between either movie case, still unable to pick one over the other. Sighing, he ends up picking Brokeback Mountain, knowing deep down that Cas would most likely end up enjoy watching it more.

As he stands back up holding the DVD player remote in his hand, he hears the sound of Cas walking down in the hallway near the mancave’s door. They've been together so long at this point, but even the slightest presence of Cas will still make a butterfly giddiness erupt inside of Dean.

"Right on time as always," Dean puts down the remote after pushing 'play', grabbing the plate and beer held out to him by Cas.

He holds it up to his nose and breathes in the mingling smells of delicious food, "You really outdid yourself on this one."

Cas blushes from the compliment before pulling his own plate closer to him, breaking off a piece of the brownie and slipping it into his mouth, "Glad to know you approve."

Dean winks and takes a bite of his own, letting out a tiny moan of satisfaction from the taste, "Did you put sea salt in this?"

"I'm surprised you noticed, it was one of my secret ingredients I added in. Thought it would go well with the caramel."

"Your intuition was right, this is delicious," Dean takes another large bite and lets the flavors melt over his tongue.

At this point in the movie, Jack and Ennis sit at the bar drinking together, getting the chance to have the last bit of freedom before heading up to the mountain to work. This reminds Dean of the many times he's shared a drink with Cas before they assumed the worst would happen, losing each other. Yet those moments have now become ones he'll never forget.

The soft touch of a hand against his face pulls Dean's eyeline from the movie, Cas reeling him into a deep kiss, their lips melding into each other creating a familiar yet comfortable feeling.

Before letting anything escalate Dean pulls back and faces his head back towards the TV, reaching up to wipe off his bottom lip softly, "Watch the movie, you're going to miss a good part."

Cas pulls away and pouts, giving him one last peck on the neck before returning fully to the boundaries of his seat.

Dean turns his head back again to Cas and reaches out for his hand, weaving their fingers together, "Hey don't do that, all I wanna do is watch the movie. We can do plenty of that later."

"Fine, fine," Cas mocks, grabbing a piece of the soft pretzel and dips it in the cheese, shoving it in his mouth with a hint of annoyance.

They manage to in silence to watch the movie a little longer before Cas speaks up again, "So...what exactly is going on?"

Dean clears his throat, "Well, Jack and Ennis got their orders to go up to the mountain to go work with the sheep and they're still trying to get used to each other. Testing out the ropes, trying to work together as a team."

"Are you sure they fall in love? They definitely don't very seem into each other at the moment."

Dean takes a sip of his beer, "Love happens in mysterious ways Cas, just like us. It is never as easy as we think, especially when two people don't really get along, to begin with."

"We got along just fine, what are you talking about?"

The only thing Dean does when he hears Cas make that statement is laugh, downing another large gulp of his beer.

Cas tilts his head, "Why are you laughing?"

"Your memory must be skewed now that you're human. Don't you remember threatening my life multiple times? Trust me, you and Uriel were a couple of dicks for the majority of that early time."

"I've changed a lot since then."

Dean smiles and squeezes Cas' hand, "We've both changed a lot. Us, being here like this, is the ending we both deserve. For them, it was much harder of a situation. Their free will isn't as fluid as the ones we take for granted."

"You're not telling me—" Cas sits back with wide eyes, trying to formulate the future plot points in his head.

"I'm not going to spoil anything from the movie, you're going to have to watch it yourself to find out yourself," Dean mimics zipping his lips and turning a key to lock it, "My lips are sealed.”

A sudden vibration erupts from Dean's back, shoving his hand into it and pulling out his phone to see Sam's picture contact picture lit up (from a drunken Halloween night dressed up in a Chewbacca costume, minus the head, with a herbal cigarette dangling between his lips), swiping to answer, "Hey Sammy, what's going on?"

"Hey-uh-hi, are you busy right now?" Sam asks in a mildly frantic tone of voice over the phone.

"Well—" Dean signals to Cas to pause the movie, "It is movie night like you know, but I can talk. Everything going okay?"

"No, yeah, everything is fine. Do you know how to treat a spider bite?"

Dean coughs slightly in surprise, "Are you telling me you already managed to get a spider bite?"

Cas, overhearing the conversation holds a hand up to his mouth to help suppress the giggling he's unable to prevent himself from doing.

"Yeah, um, neither Eileen and I can remember if it's supposed to be a cold or warm compress."

Dean shakes his head and lets out a chuckle, "Did you just drunkenly call me, to ask me, how to treat a spider bite less than 24 hours after leaving here?"

"Yes Dean, do you have the answer or not?"

"Go get some ice and makeshift ice pack. For the swelling. Any other questions?"

Sam pauses not answering right away, Dean hears the sound of rustling and clanking of ice in the background, "No that should be it. Thank you."

"Yep, you're welcome. Bye," Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else.

"I'm sorry for all of the distractions tonight Dean, I really am. I know how much you wanted to watch this movie," Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, slightly massaging at the tense muscle underneath Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin shirt.

"It's fine Cas, we can stop the movie if you want. Maybe pick it back up tomorrow?"

"Why can't we continue watching it? If we have to pause again, then we pause again. Anyway, you have me interested in learning what will happen.”

“Alright, we’ll continue.”

Thankfully, no one else bothers them for the rest of the movie. Even when Cas was confused in certain sections, he reminded quiet and attentively watched, quickly becoming attached to the characters and the blossoming (and losing) love between them. When the credits begin to roll, Dean looks over to see Cas crying, tears streaming down his face, and biting on his bottom lip to possibly contain his emotions.

"Cas, what's wrong?"

"The jacket...Jack was the one who took the jacket that Ennis thought he forget on the mountain. He took it and kept it for all those years. And now...with Jack gone..." Cas leans in towards Dean, who wraps his arms around his shoulder in comfort, pressing little kisses on the top of his head. He lets Cas cry, holding onto him tight.

When Cas feels ready enough to pull away, Dean reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "What’s wrong Cas?"

"It just reminds me of us. When you kept my coat, the symbolism of keeping an article of clothing when your loved one is gone. In this case—" Cas sucks in a deep breath, bottom lip quivering, "Ennis lost Jack, his soulmate. But no matter how many times you've lost me, I've always come back. I wish that could have been the same for them."

"Oh, babe..." Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, strong and supportive, "They got to share their love while they could, and even though things could have been different, that was the ending destined for the."

"Why couldn’t they have ended up together?"

"Just how their cards were played, nothing we can change about it.”

Cas sighs, rubbing away his remaining leftover tears, "This really is a goddamn bitch of a unsatisfactory situation."

Dean can't help himself from laugh out of happiness, "That was a pretty good usage of that phrase, glad to know you picked up on it."

"Oh, it's going to be my go-to now, along with 'I wish I knew how to quit you’."

"Sounds to me like you liked the movie. Well, I do have an idea," Dean stands up from the couch and reaches for Cas' hand, pulling him up to a standing position, "How about we go start something? Sound good to you?"

[lyndiscealin]

Quick starter guide for making bread including making sourdough from scratch

Every now and then I start baking bread again. Mostly to gain muscle mass again after I had RSI in my right hand and couldn't use it for weeks.

Because I can't be bothered with doing fancy stuff, here is the most simple recipe I could gather together. This is a recipe for mixxed rye bread. It's 80% rye and 20% wheat.

Sorry all the numbers are from the metric system.

What you need:

- A very clean bowl (wash it before using it) with a lid with a volume of at least 2.5 litres (although I would advise to get something bigger)

- An additional big bowl (I recommend 5l or more) No lid needed

- Around 1kg of rye flour (I use type 1150)

- A bit of wheat flour (120g per loaf you wanna bake)

- 5 minutes of time every day at approximately the same time

- A handmixer (or some of these fancy mixing machines)

- An oven that can reach 200°C or more

- Warm temperatures or a place somewhere were it is around 30°C

- Read this guide from start to end so you understand what you are doing

The Sourdough:

The Sourdough needs at least 5 days to grow yeast in it, so start early in the week if you wanna bake on the weekend. Important note: Sourdough needs a lot of time to get it's usual sour taste. So your first bread (and the 10 after them) won't taste a lot like sourdough. It takes months for it to get the typical sourdough taste.

Day 1:

Mix 50g rye flour and 50ml water in the bowl, place the lid on the bowl (but don't seal it shut) and let the dough rest for 24 hours

Day 2:

Mix another 50g rye flour and 50ml water into the dough, let it rest for 24 hours

Day 3:

Mix 100g of flour and 100ml of water into the dough. Let is rest for 24 hours.

Day 4:

Mix another 100g of flour and 100ml of water into the dough. Let it rest for 24 hours.

Day 5:

Like Day 3 and 4. Let it rest for at least 12 hours.

On Day 6 your sourdough should be ready to be baked with. The yeast won't be too active at this point, so the bread will be a bit more dense than you probably want it to be. You can either add some bought yeast from the supermarket, or if you don't want to bake bread for another week, you can throw away all but 50g of your sourdough and start over at Day 2. The yeast should be active enough after another week.

Important note: When Sourdough is hungry, he gives off a smell that people describe as sharp alcohol or acetone. That's completely normal. As soon as you give it water and flour the smell vanishes. The yeast in the dough will destroy other bacteria, so only if you starve your dough to death, the dough will get bad. You will smell if it gets bad. If you still ask yourself 'might this be the smell Lyn talked about?' it isn't bad yet. You will know when the dough went bad.

Baking the bread:

(recipe for around 1kg of bread)

- 320g Sourdough

- 320g Rye flour

- 120g Wheat flour

- 230ml Water

- 12g Salt

(yeast if you want, but I am not sure how much, I don't use additional yeast)

Mix all the above together. If you don't have a mixing machine (a handmixer won't do) make sure you rub your hands with flour before you begin mixing. And re rub them with flour as soon as the dough starts to get sticky. (Rye dough is really, really sticky)

If the dough doesn't stop to get sticky, dust it with a layer of rye flour, rub your hands with rye flour again and start kneeding.

Let the dough rest for 30 minutes after everything is mixed well.

Take the dough out of the bowl and give it onto a clean surface (I recommend a large chopping board with a smooth surface (like bambus), but your cleaned eating table is sufficient, too) that you put a lot of flour on. If you don't dust the surface with floor first, the dough will stick to that surface.

Rub your hands with flour again, dust the whole dough with floor, and begin kneeding it. Give more flour whenever the dough starts to get sticky again. (If it happens that the dough won't stick together anymore, use a bit of water to make it stickier again)

Kneed for around 3 Minutes, then form a loaf.

Place the loaf somewhere it can rest. Don't forget to dust the surface you put it on with flour again. Dust the loaf with some flour too. You can place a clean dishtowel over the loaf.

The loaf has to rest 120-130 Minutes. If you press a finger on the surface and the dent fills itself again, it is ready.

Pre heat your oven to 200°C (some prefer 230°C, but it went great for me with 200°C), then put the loaf in the oven.

Bake for 55 Minutes.

Tip: If you want a really crunchy crust (really really crunchy) put a wooden spoon between the oven's lid and the oven for the last 5 Minutes of baking. (Don't use plastic! It will melt!!!)

After 55 Minutes, if you knock on the bread, it should sound hollow. It's done then.

Let the bread cool a bit before eating it :)

You can put the rest of the sourdough into your fridge for 1-2 weeks before you have to feed it again. If you don't put it in the fridge you have to feed it every day again. Some say you can even freeze sourdough. I never tried that.

If you have questions, feel free to ask^^ I tried to make this as easy as possible, but I am not sure if I thought of everything.

[lonelyreputation]

The List

A/N: Happy afternoon/evening/morning to wherever you find yourself on this planet! I had planned on posting this ~next week, but I’m trying to be better at posting fics sooner instead of having them sit in my docs for like 2 weeks after I finish sdljfk so here’s this one! I also can’t find the original request or else I would link it, but below is a summary! And it’s allllll fluff ! 

Thanks a million for all your support!! 💖💫 I really appreciate every reader, every like, every reblog, and every reply that I’ve ever received 🥺 It really makes my heart melt lsdjflk

Also, as I’m sure most of you are aware, there was a devastating   explosion in Beirut, Lebanon on Tuesday that killed hundreds and injured thousands. Here’s a really informational text post explaining the explosion with additional resources to help. And if you have the means, here is the link to donate to the Lebanese Red Cross.

REQUEST: Going grocery shopping with your husband Shawn during corona and running into fans 

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Coronavirus (please remember to wear your masks!!!)

Word Count: 2.3K

“Do you have the list?” You mumbled through your mask.

Shawn shut the driver’s side door close as he slipped the elastic strings of his mask around his ears, “I thought you had it?”

You looked at him in disbelief as the two of you walked toward the front of the grocery store, “You said and I quote,”  you cleared your throat to lower your voice, “Of course, I have the list Y/n, I’m not irresponsible.”

He rolled his eyes at the glare you sent him as he took out a clorox wipe from a ziplock bag to wipe down the handle of the shopping cart before he put his hands on it, “Tomato tomahto.”

“Shawn, we’re in the middle of a pandemic,” you glared at him again as the two of you entered through the automatic doors, “We need specific things and can’t keep running back and forth to the store.”

“I––Yeah, you’re right, sorry.”

For a second you forgot you were wearing a mask, so you just smiled at him as a response. But when you realized that all he could see were the crinkles at the corner of your eyes, you patted his bicep, “It’s alright, let’s just get what we need and then leave.”

Shawn nodded as he pushed the cart over toward the produce section.  You picked out some lettuce, peppers, apples, and other assortments of fruits and vegetables.  As you were tying a knot around a plastic bag you had put asparagus in, Shawn’s voice caused your head to turn his way.

“How do you pick out an avocado?”

“How do you––What?”

Shawn stared down at the avocados, eyebrows pulled together as he scratched his chin, “Like, I know there’s something about the color and feel of it, but I don’t wanna touch them and then put them back.”

He had a point, you thought.  There was a fear factor about touching a piece of fruit––of touching anything in the grocery store––and putting it back on the shelf that could potentially put someone at risk of getting sick.  

“I guess just grab a few?” You pulled down another plastic bag from the dispenser, wiggling your hands inside to fully open it and holding it out to Shawn, “We’ll eat the softer one’s first and just keep an eye on the rest of them.”

Shawn nodded as he picked up a few avocados and placed them in the bag you held open for him.  Once Shawn had put six avocados in the bag you gave him a look silently asking him if he really needed all of the avocados.

“I like avocado toast,” he gave you a cheeky wink, “And it’s not like we can put them back.”  

You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well he was grinning under his mask, as he pushed the cart forward, “What else do we need?”

“I would know if we had a list.”

“I said I was sorry!”

You tilted your head and gave him a deliberate look that showed you didn’t believe him.  You heard him let out a faux disgruntled sigh as he looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes.  Shawn continued to push the cart forward and you told him to jokingly get whatever he wanted since the list was long forgotten.

And he took your lighthearted joke to heart as the two of you went up and down the aisles.  Shawn grabbed various cereal boxes you didn’t even know he liked to eat, seven different kinds of pasta noodles––They’re on sale, Y/n––snacks ranging from potato chips to dried kale flakes, and spent more than enough time in the baking aisle.

You stood next to the cart that Shawn abandoned as you watched him walk up and down the aisle; front teeth biting down on his bottom lip in concentration as he leaned in close to the shelves with squinted eyes, reading the labels.

“You’re serious about this?” You warily looked at the way he was so concentrated.

“Of course,” he said unfazed as he turned his head over his shoulder to give you a duh look, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just so…” Your words trailed off as he whipped his head back around and bent his knees to squint at the labels on the bottom shelf, “Unexpected.”

Shawn let out a little triumphant ah ha as he picked up bread flour from the bottom shelf.  He shrugged his shoulders at you as he dropped the bread flour in the cart, “Everyone seems to be making sourdough bread.”

For what felt like the millionth time since you stepped foot in the grocery store, you let out a sigh, “That doesn’t mean you should.”

Shawn glared at you, “My mom said she would FaceTime me to help.”

Your eyes crinkled as you laughed out loud and pushed the cart down to the cleaning supplies aisle.  You picked up the limit of two packs of paper towels, two packs of toilet paper, but the store was unfortunately out of clorox wipes.  

After you picked up those essential supplies, you went down to pick up some bread, eggs, and then down to the milk.  You opened the fridge door, took a gallon of milk out, but before you could fully close the door, Shawn offered up his spaced-out thoughts.

“What’s the difference between one percent and two percent milk?”

“Shawn, I don’t know,” You turned around and saw his nose an inch away from the glass of the fridge, “And get your nose away––You don’t know who’s touched that surface.”

He moved his head back, but it was still too close then what you would’ve liked, “There’s so many types of milk…And like, non-milk’s…Have you ever tried pea milk?”

You now remembered why you always left Shawn at the house when you went food shopping.

“You usually like fat-free milk in your cereal–––”

“Shawn––Are you Shawn Mendes?”

Shawn pulled his head completely away from the glass and took a few steps toward you as to put some distance between the fans and him, “Uh––Yeah––Hi, how’s it going?”

Even with their masks on, you could tell that they were trying really hard to hold in their excitement.  While the three of them looked to be various ages, you could tell that they were sisters.

“We’re so good––”

“––As good as you can be in a pandemic––”

“Are you grocery shopping?”

The last question made you laugh because if being in a grocery store wasn’t obvious enough, you also had a cart full of food.  But you knew that they really admired Shawn’s music, that they were also probably nervous, and just trying to make conversation with him.

“Yeah,” Shawn smiled at them as he gestured to you, “Y/n forgot the list though––”

“You said you had it!” You cut him off and turned your attention to the fans, “He’s always so forgetful.”

“You guys are too cute––”

“––Yeah like your wedding pictures were to die for––”

“What song did you have your first dance to?”

Like how you directed your attention to the trio of girls, the youngest of the sisters directed this question at you.  

“Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis was our first dance song,” you blushed at the memory that was just a little under a year ago, as you looked up at Shawn, who was already looking down at you with idolization shining bright his eyes for you, “He stepped on my dress a few times.”

Shawn scoffed and the idolization in his eyes turned into bewilderment, “You stepped on my shoes.”

“Tomato tomahto,” you shot his words back at him.

“That is really funny––”

“––That song is so romantic––”

“Can we get a picture?”

The two older sisters apologized and silently berated the youngest sister saying how they probably didn’t want to be bothered while out; especially in a pandemic.  But Shawn reassured her that it was fine.

“Okay, so let’s…” Shawn was trying to strategize the safest way to take a picture with fans, “Let’s do this as socially distant as possible…Hmm…Okay so how about I get behind you girls and you aim the camera up so you’re able to see me in the distance?”

They all agreed with wide eyes and vigorous nods of their head, verbalizing their gratitude toward Shawn and how he was being so compromising and careful with the current situation.  You stood by the cart as you witnessed the oldest sister stretch her arm out so she was able to get her sisters and Shawn, who was standing more than six feet behind them, all into the picture.

“I really appreciate you girls being so understanding with taking the picture and not having it be…normal.  We’ve––” Shawn gestured his hand between you and him, “––been quarantining pretty intensely, but I still don’t want to risk you all––or my wife––getting infected.”

Just like the picture, the sister’s understood his concerns.

“Really, thank you so much–––”

“––This has been the highlight of my quarantine––”

“When are you releasing new music?”

You let out a laugh that your mask, thankfully, muffled as all the sisters continued to talk over each other, but were interrupted when the youngest would blurt out a question.

Shawn’s laugh was more hearty and audible to the fans, “I’ve been writing more,” Shawn gave you a side glance, “I’ve had some good inspiration lately.”

Once they all thanked Shawn again, they were trotting off to wherever they came from.  Shawn was silent for the remaining of the shopping trip, only offering his opinion every now and then when you asked him a question.  Checking out was a breeze, and soon enough you were walking outside with the bags, placing them in the back of Shawn’s car.

The two of you opened your doors, stepped into the car, but before you buckled up, you held your hand out to Shawn who was already squeezing hand sanitizer into his hand.  You thanked him as you rubbed your hands together, the alcohol smell pungent in the car.

“Alright there?” You clicked your seatbelt in place as Shawn started the car.

He placed a hand on the back of your seat as he looked through the back windshield, “Yeah, just…It was nice seeing some fans…Almost forgot I was famous for a minute.”

“You might’ve forgotten that you’re famous, but your fans will never forget you.”

He tried to contain the growing smile by biting the corner of his bottom lip as he looked over at you.  You offered him a shining smile and with a shake of his head and a small chuckle, he placed a hand on your thigh and gave you a slight squeeze.

The rest of the ride was silent and you pulled out your phone to scroll through Twitter while Shawn sang along to the radio.  You were mindlessly scrolling, not really paying attention to your timeline, but then you saw an update account retweet the picture of Shawn at the grocery store with fans.  You clicked on the profile and saw that there was a link to the full Instagram post.

You were directed from Twitter to the Instagram app and smiled at the picture’s caption.

Ran into Y/n and Shawn Mendes at the store! They were very cute, but Shawn forgot their food list!  Y/n kept teasing him. And they were both wearing masks!  And before anyone says anything about the pic, Shawn was more than 6 ft away and stood behind us.  He also said that he and Y/n had been quarantining intensely!  We love our quarantine King and Queen Y/n and Shawn Mendes ✨ 💖💫

You decided to humor yourself and read the comments.  And while almost all of them were positive, there were still some people commenting on how they thought you and Shawn weren’t actually married and it was still just for PR.

Someone did comment: What supermarket? I’m tryna meet Shawn 👀

But the fan, the oldest sister, who you met just under an hour ago at the supermarket responded: Sorry! Not going to give out their private info just in case they live in that area!

You smiled at the thoughtfulness of her response and hearted the comment.

Before you knew it, you were back at your house washing your hands, and bringing in the grocery bags.  You unpacked the groceries one by one, putting vegetables in the fridge as Shawn put the seven different kinds of pasta away in the pantry.

You walked back to where the grocery bags were on the floor, pulling out carrots and red peppers, when you saw a corner piece of white paper slightly sticking out from the top of your husband’s back pocket.

“Shawn?” You asked cautiously, not sure if your eyes were betraying you or not.

He peeked his head over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

Your eyes drifted down to his back pocket, “What’s that?”

Shawn followed your gaze and turned his head down to his backside, with a frown on his face, as he reached a hand into his pocket.  And just as you expected, he pulled out a crumpled white piece of scrap paper, the one you knew you wrote your food list on.

His eyebrows were scrunched together, reading over the list, and then his eyes widened when he realized what he was reading.  He looked up at you with an apologetic look, “Now also wouldn’t be the time to tell you that I forgot to buy pasta sauce?”

Your shoulders fell, just as fast as your mouth, as you looked at him with wild eyes, “You bought seven different kinds of pasta and didn’t buy any sauce?!”

taglist: @fallinallincurls @alina--jpeg @adelaidestreets @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u @turtoix​ @shawnsmutal @vinylmendes @mendesficsxbombay @lights-on-mendes