#now it mostly feels like trying to mix a huge bowl of cookie dough that's way too thick and heavy and sticky

[ladyswillmart]

There's always a good side and a bad side to going back and reading your own writing--for me it's primarily the experience of being absolutely delighted to remember some old things that I'd forgotten about, but on the other hand the work is always, always, ALWAYS

Unfinished, and

Frustratingly better written than anything I'm capable of doing nowadays

I don't know why or what I was doing back then to make it better, or what happened in the meantime to make it worse, but gosh I wish I could still write like that, huh 😩

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Bad At Love

Call It What You Want (3/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: finallyyyyy Im gonna slowburn the shit outta this (gif not mine btw and I’m terrible at summaries)

Chapter summary: you spend your free weekend the trio. Mondays are the absolute worst.

Warning: swearing, a terrible relationship, one bad pun(that I do not regret)

Word count: ~1.6k

—-

“Yeah but don’t over mix it,” You instruct Finn as he siftes flour into the mixing bowl, mixing it in with the eggs and sugar.

Rey and Poe sit at the dining table, watching the two of you bake. After melting a spatula by accident, Finn had banned Rey from the kitchen for the rest of the day. Poe wasn’t allowed in from the beginning, much to his chagrin, but Finn had insisted, saying that it was the best decision, if he still wanted to have a kitchen by the end of the day.

So it was left with you and Finn. The plan was to make cookies and popcorn and watch holiday movies the whole weekend.

Usually, you would spend your weekends alone, or with Jessika, binge watching netflix shows or working. Jessika calls you boring for that, but if you went out to parties like she did, you’d probably be hiding away from everyone else anyways. So this was a much better option for you.

Rey had insisted that you spend the day with her at Finn’s place. Somehow that had turned into a sleepover and here you are in her pajamas making cookies in the kitchen. You really enjoy spending time with the three of them and you’re really glad Rey cared about you enough to practically drag your antisocial ass into their plans.

“Are you done yet?” Rey whines loudly from her seat.

“We haven’t even put it in the oven!” Finn exclaims, exasperated.

“We could just eat the cookie dough,” Poe chips in much to Reys delight but both Finn and you simultaneously shoot down the suggestion.

“Poe, you’re a med student, you should know better!” Finn adds on as Poe slumps in his seat, pouting. The truth was, you and Finn had already eaten a tiny bit of cookie dough, just to taste test. You know the children will insist on having some too, if they found out you did. “Go pick a movie to put on, at least,”

Rey perks up again, sprinting out of her seat, “Oh we’re watching Home Alone!” Poe sprints after her, yelling, “What no! We’ve watched it a million times already!”

Literal children.

The cookies turn out pretty good in the end. Finn makes Rey and Poe set up the rest of the things, just to keep them away from the kitchen.

Before you know it, you are watching Home Alone, snuggled up in a comfortable blanket with Rey. A huge warm bowl of carmel, butter popcorn sits on your lap. Peaceful and comfortable. Until Rey swipes the whole bowl from you, “I love you, but leave some for the rest of us,”

You try to snatch It back, almost practically wailing, “I made cookies for you, you evil woman,” you hear snickering from the other couch and whip your head around, screeching, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Poe completely loses it and Finn casually pushes him off when he falls in top of him laughing, while you continue glaring at them. Rey makes use of the distraction and shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “We made those cookies, give me some credit too!” Finn exclaims, offended by your statement.

“Okay fine, our cookies,” you concede.

“Hey I helped too!” Rey exclaimes.

“Oh yes, the secret ingredient. One melted spatula,” you snark her.

“Oh burn! Pun intended,” Poe chimes in.

Unsurprisingly, this is how the entire evening goes. The four of you spend it bickering playfully instead of watching the movie, but you weren’t complaining.

—-

Poe Dameron hated being alone, more than anything. Once, he was a kid, who had parents who loved him and a place he called home. Then suddenly he was moving to live with his godmother in an entirely different state, in a big house that just never felt like home. But at least he had Finn and Rey.

Then he’d gone to college and Finn and Rey had gotten together. They weren’t big on PDA or anything. They never did anything to make Poe feel uncomfortable or left out. But Poe couldn’t help but feel like an intruder sometimes. Somedays he’d catch them in the couch together, cuddling, watching a movie at night. And he’d just slink along the dark and shut himself in his room without uttering a single word to them. Intruder.

In a way, he had always been jealous of them. It had always been Finn and Rey, even before he became part of their duo. He just wanted to have a bond like theirs with someone. Someone who would be willing to put him before anybody else. He wanted to be the first person someone would run to if they have a problem or the first person someone would call when they have a piece of happy news to share. He wanted to be someone’s first choice, to belong with someone.

But somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even come close to finding something like that. He’d had his fair share of bad relationships, in his rush to find that someone. He had so much to give, no one to give to.

“Hello?” Carefully manicured fingers snap infront of his face. Poe startles slightly. Great, he zoned out again. “You’re not even listening to me,” Sarah leans back into her chair, displeasure etched on her face.

“No no, I’m listening. Just tired,” he takes a swig of his coffee.

Whatever he has with Sarah, he knew it wouldn’t last. They don’t work together and he was aware of it. But at this point, having something felt better than nothing. He knew she didn’t love him. If she did, Poe would’ve given anything to make it work.

Yes, he was aware of how desperate he sounded.

“Yeah, whatever,” she dismisses him with a wave. “You wanna go back to my place for the night?” A sultry smile spreads in her face, fingers lacing with his, on top of the table. Sarah was a good girlfriend sometimes. She’d buy him coffee, ask him how his day was, be nice to him. But that was only if she wanted something in return.

Poe sighs heavily, “I can’t tonight. Sorry babe,” babe. It sounds so fake to his own ears. There was once when the endearment felt sweet on his tongue, and he wanted to say it, every chance he got. Now, it feels like a lie. Like he’s fooling himself.

Warm fingers withdraw from his, and the smile slips right off her face. “Alright then,” her words are clipped, nothing like the tone used on a lover. Sarah collects her belongings from the table, her cup of coffee lays half-empty beside his. “Have fun, studying,” She snaps, rising from her seat abruptly, and marching out of the coffee shop. Poe doesn’t try to stop her.

He hasn’t been over to her place in weeks. He wasn’t actually busy tonight, he just didn’t want to go. He hadn’t wanted to for some time. Maybe he was finally sick of his own girlfriend treating him like, as Finn liked to call it, a booty call. Blowing up his phone when she felt like it, then leaving him high and dry for as long as she wanted after that. Finn just doesn’t understand why Poe would let himself be treated like that. To be honest, Poe doesn’t as well.

—-

Mondays suck. You particularly hate this monday, after the sleepover you had at Finn’s over the weekend. The four of you had passed out on the couch that night, crashing from sugar high after eating way too many cookies and popcorn for just four people. Although Finn still insists it was just the right. You had so much fun nonetheless.

Your professor’s droning had already put half the people in the lecture hall to sleep. You try your best to stay awake, although you know you are fighting a losing battle. The guy beside you had long since given up, it seems. His head is resting on the table and he is fast asleep.

You had managed to spend an entire semester not uttering a single word to the guy who had been sitting next to you for literally every single lecture. That was how bad you were at making friends. Maybe you had smiled at the tall, dark haired dude, once, at the beginning of the semester, but that was it.

Maybe part of the reason he chose to sit beside you was because he was just as quite as you. He mostly kept to himself. Occasionally you’d see him talk to one or two people here and there, but that was it. You weren’t complaining, really. You were perfectly content with finishing the whole semester without uttering a single word to him. But it seemed your professor had a different plan.

Your professor slams his palm on the front desk to get everyone’s attention. A few figures jump at the sudden noise and a few others groan, but everyone was awake.

“I know the topic is a little dry but come on, guys,” he says. “I’m making an announcement about the final assessment, at least pay attention to that,” Your professor was pretty cool. He was willing to go above and beyond for anyone who asked for help although the lectures literally bored everyone to hell. You fish out your notebook from your bag, ready to jot down whatever he was going to say. “The final assessment, will be done in pairs,” In pairs? Why had god abandoned you? Who were you going to ask? You didn’t know anyone in the class. You take it back, your professor was not cool.

Thankfully before you could start going partner hunting, the guy beside you turns to face you and he asks, “Hey, would you mind pairing up with me for this assignment?” You don’t hesitate before agreeing, relieved by the turn of events.

He flashes you a smile, “I’m Ben Solo,”

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 31: Embrace

(The sun shines brightly.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 31: Embrace

Word Count: 4008

Relationships: DLAMP (romantic), Creativitwins (familial) NOT remrom

Warnings: Remus being unclean (literally. like garbage kind of unclean), insect (ladybug). Oh my gosh I think that's it?????? lmk if I missed any !!!!!

A/N: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! aaaaa oh my gosh i'm finally done!!! i know i've had some slips and that my timing wasn't always the greatest, but surprisingly, i did every single prompt!!!!!! a lot of these works aren't very good, but i'm just glad i managed to get them all out regardless. here's the final fic, just a bunch of cute fluff!! hope ya'll enjoy this roman-centric piece, and thanks for sticking around with me throughout this stressful dabble into the land of writing challenges!

Roman has a checklist.

It’s a small one, boasting only five items, but they’re all very important. The list itself does have a physical form, a glittery artwork on a big poster board that sits proudly on his desk, but it mostly just resides in his own mind. Although he absolutely would if he could, carrying the big paper around while he completes the tasks would just get annoying after a while, and probably take away from the sincerity of his actions. He wants to be as genuine as possible, to match the love residing in his heart, so it’s important that he tries to be more serious about this. Maybe he can take some pages out of Logan’s book.

Finally finishing his checklist is literally the only thing he’s been thinking about recently, constantly in his mind nagging for completion. He thinks of it in the shower, at dinner, during their movie nights, you name it. And he’s thinking of it now, as he sits in his cushy desk chair and stares with rapt attention at his swirling, loopy handwriting and artistic doodles. It may be a short list, but certain tasks are likely to be a huge undertaking, so he’s brainstorming ideas on how to properly carry them out. One or two of which will be easy, but the others require a certain delicate touch to make sure it all goes as smoothly as possible.

He thinks he’s ready.

So Roman decides to start at task number one, which pertains to a certain fatherly side. He’s sure to be in the kitchen baking cookies, as evident by the delicious smell wafting up the stairs and down the hallway and underneath Roman’s door, so he feels fairly confident as he descends the stairs and strides into the kitchen. The smell is much stronger in here, and Roman can easily pick apart the various aromas given off by brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate. 

“These smell absolutely delectable, Padre!” Roman exclaims as he sweeps over to where Patton stands, leaning sideways on the counter as he watches the other side mold little balls of cookie dough to place on the tray in front of him. Said side looks up in surprise as he plops a mound of sweetness onto the baking paper, and a happy grin spreads across his face at the compliment.

“Thanks, kiddo! There’s a tray in the oven already, and it’ll be done in about ten minutes if you want some!” Patton tells him as he scoops out another chunk of dough from his mixing bowl, surprisingly accurate and uniform in relation to the size of all the other cookies. Roman is tempted to swipe his finger through the bowl and steal a little bit of the uncooked treat to snack on, but his mission right now is much more important, as much as he hates to pass up some of Patton’s baking.

“Actually, I came down here for something else,” Roman says cryptically, a sly smile playing at his lips when Patton sets down the ball of dough and turns to him attentively. Before he can voice his question, Roman pulls him into a tight hug, and his smirk widens when Patton makes a little noise of confusion. The other side is soon to recover, though, and he lets out happy giggles as he throws his arms around Roman’s neck. To his surprise, Roman is soon forced to move his arms when Patton jumps up and wraps his legs around him. Roman’s little huff is drowned out by Patton’s bell-like laughter, but he can’t help chuckling anyway when the gleeful side lays a flurry of kisses on his forehead, and nose, and cheeks, and lips.

“Awe, Roman! I love you so much,” Patton swoons, shifting to cup Roman’s face in his hands, and soon Roman can taste the vague sweetness of vanilla and sugar on his tongue.

-

God, this is gonna suck.

Okay, listen. They’ve come a long way from the days of constant arguments, from how they used to insult and snap at each other any chance they got. Roman knows how much progress they’ve made, and he’s come to really, really love their resident emo. But although he did agree to join their relationship, he hasn’t changed in the sense that he still has a lot of trouble opening up. Accepting and returning affection, especially physical, is not something that Virgil has mastered at all. And that’s fine! His love language is just a bit different, and Roman knows he cares just as much. But goddamnit, maybe he just wants to cuddle with his favourite emo once in a while, alright?

So yeah, this is going to be difficult. And he’s likely to get slapped in the arm and pushed away. But he’s still going to try, because Virgil is the second item on the checklist, and it’d be a shame to not finish it.

There’s almost an odd sense of dread as Roman walks down the hallway, an uncertainty as he approaches Virgil’s black door. Roman almost wants to turn on his heel and run away, but he’s already here, so he might as well just follow through with it. Raising his hand up to knock is mildly nerve-wracking, but the thought of getting to embrace the anxious side is incentive enough to deliver a few swift knocks on the glossy wood.

A few moments of silence pass before Roman can hear footsteps, and then the doorknob is turning from the other side. The door opens with a soft click, and it swings open in a leisurely arc to reveal a tired-looking Virgil peeking out from behind the dark paint. He raises an eyebrow when he registers the identity of his interrupter, rubs his bleary eyes with a fist covered in his jacket sleeve, and Roman really hopes he didn’t wake the other side up. Virgil already doesn’t get enough sleep, and it really wouldn’t do for him to lose more unnecessarily.

“Princey? What’s up?” Virgil asks, voice soft and a bit hoarse, and Roman actually kind of melts a little bit where he stands. Despite his exhaustion, Virgil really does look beautiful, stormy brown eyes looking at him with a surprising amount of trust from under his bangs and hood. Not for the first time, Roman feels his throat close almost painfully in the face of the all-encompassing love that wells up inside of him. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Oh, uh, sorry if I woke you up. I just-- I wanted to give you something,” Roman stammers, a small blush spreading across his face. He didn’t realize how late it must be, if even Virgil is confused as to his conscious state, so he must have been staring at his checklist for longer than he originally thought he was. A questioning hum comes from the tired side in front of him, and there’s a second where it feels like Roman might just run away. What if Virgil gets mad and slams the door in his face? It’s not like Roman would blame him. What was he thinking, coming here this late?

“Princey, you alright? What is it?” Virgil asks, caring and concerned, and Roman breathes out shakily. He surges forward and wraps his arms around the side in front of him, squeezes gently around his huge jacket, and Virgil huffs out a surprised breath. To Roman’s shock, Virgil easily laces his fingers together around Roman’s back, knocks his head companionably against the prince’s temple with a tiny, low laugh. “What, that’s all? What were you all worked up about, you drama queen?”

Roman knows he should be offended, but right now, kissing the life out of his soft, amused boyfriend is much more important.

-

If Roman’s being honest, the next item on this list is one of the ones that scares him the most. It’s not that Deceit hates him, or anything, but he’s really unpredictable. Roman has had the biggest crush on him for, well, ever, and he’s never acted on it before out of fear that Deceit will laugh at him or brush him off. He’s just so cool, and awesome, and although Roman was a little uneasy about his snake features at first, he’s come to think of them as unique and beautiful. 

So standing here in front of Deceit’s swirly yellow door certainly gives Roman pause, and he draws a resemblance to his encounter with Virgil a couple of days ago. Both of the ex-dark sides act similarly in that they’re very protective of their space, valuing privacy and personal freedom over much else. Although it went well with Virgil, Roman just hopes that Deceit won’t see this as encroaching on his territory.

Before Roman can even knock, Deceit’s door swings open, and the other side leans on his doorframe with crossed arms and a lazy smirk. The other side is wearing a yellow hoodie and black sweatpants in lieu of his usual ensemble, and the casual clothing suits him far more than Roman expects. His comfortable attire makes Deceit look comfortable by extension, and all Roman can see is his potential soft snake boyfriend. Wanting bubbles up in the prince’s lungs, and he opens his mouth to speak.

“Deceit! I, uh. I wanted to, uh. Give you… something. Um-- here!” Roman tries and fails to articulate his intentions, and Deceit looks even more amused than before. Roman feels a vague sense that he’s being made fun of, but Deceit isn’t like that, and it’s probably just his own uncertainty and insecurity rearing its ugly head. Roman knows his confidence is often fake, but this time he’s putting that aside to focus on the present. He just hopes he’s good enough for the snake-like side to actually want to be with him.

“Hm? And what would that be?” Deceit muses smoothly, and his snake eye glints sharply in the light. It’s ominous, sure, but Roman knows it’s also incredibly fake, just a mask to put on. He behaves like that for the sole purpose of riling people up, acts like a scary villain to push people away because he’s scared to let someone get too close and trust them with a more vulnerable part of himself; he is self-preservation, after all. Roman’s not near as oblivious as one might think, and a lot of his knowledge and ability to see through the act comes from very familiar cues in Deceit that he knows are also present in himself.

So slowly stepping forward in Deceit’s space is just as much for himself as it is for Deceit, silent solidarity in the way he gently pulls the other side into a warm hug by his tense shoulders. Said side winces, allows a single moment of transparency from being caught off guard, and it just stirs an aching inside Roman’s chest. Deceit deserves just as much affection and reassurance as the rest of them, and he deeply regrets treating him like he did when he was so quick to put labels on someone before truly getting to know them.

“I, uh. I like you, Deceit. A lot. Like, romantically. Actually, I think I love you. And It’s— it’s okay if you don’t feel the same! But I just. I dunno, I want you to know you’re not alone, y’know? I got your back, so… if you ever need help, or wanna talk or something… my door’s always open, okay?” Roman says, quiet and careful and filled with so much love, and he can feel Deceit shudder in his hold. Unsure fists come up to clench in the fabric of Roman’s prince jacket, search for the comfort and support he isn’t used to receiving, and Roman is determined to never let Deceit feel alone ever again.

“I… I like you too, Roman. Romantically. That’s.. weird to say. Romantically. Huh. Ah— thanks. I appreciate it,” Deceit stumbles out even more awkwardly than Roman expects, soft and searching, and Roman realizes he really, really overestimated Deceit’s self-comfort capabilities. Roman knows he doesn’t exactly have the best track record for self-confidence, but he’s slowly learning to believe in himself with the help of his boyfriends. Deceit just… doesn’t have that. At least, he didn’t before. Now, though, when Roman presses a short kiss to the shorter side’s cheek, when Deceit breathes out a rush of air and turns to catch Roman’s lips with his own, he isn’t going to be alone anymore.

-

Literally the last thing Roman expects to see when he enters Logan’s room for the first time is the logical side in a unicorn onesie watching cartoons as he drinks from a sippy cup.

For a moment, he thinks he’s dreaming, what with the way Logan turns to him with wide eyes when the door clicks closed behind him. The bespectacled side doesn’t seem scared, or irritated, or surprised, but rather overjoyed, something Roman realizes with a sinking heart that he hasn’t seen in years. A pleased grin pulls at Logan’s lips, bright eyes squinting with how elated he seems to be at Roman’s appearance. He pats excitedly at his side, beckons Roman to come sit with him, and the princely side does so with a confused, uncertain, placating smile.

When he’s close enough, Logan shifts over to Roman and plops himself in the taller side’s lap, snuggling into the broader chest with a contented sigh as he wraps sweater paw fingers around his sippy cup and the turtle plushie at his feet. It’s overwhelmingly adorable, and extremely bewildering, and Roman doesn’t understand the tender, vulnerable state his nerd seems to be in. At least he doesn’t until Logan buries his head in the crook of Roman’s neck, curls up impossibly further as he watches the children’s cartoon playing on the television out of the corner of his eye, and the nagging thought pulling at the back of Roman‘s mind finally comes to light.

Of course, how could he have forgotten? Although being in the sides’ rooms have an adverse effect on those who enter it, such as Virgil’s room causing them all to have overwhelming anxiety, the effect of the room on its owner is the opposite of their purpose. Virgil’s room calms him down, Patton’s room dampens his emotions to a more tolerable level, Roman’s own room causes him to stop having so many ideas and gives a reprieve for the constant slew of creation running through his head, and Deceit’s room causes him to only tell the truth. Although Logan’s room makes the rest of the sides more logically inclined, Roman hasn’t ever actually thought about what it does to Logan himself when he’s in there.

It makes sense, now that Roman’s considering it, because his room would have the opposite effect: it’d cause him to be illogical, right? Let him indulge in things that he doesn’t when he’s out of his room. Things like cartoons, fantasy and fiction, mindless comfort— they all would constitute as illogical, irrational, or useless things in Logan’s mind, and therefore would be heightened impulses when he’s in here. And that does make sense to an extent, but their rooms don’t affect them so much as to cause their personality to do a complete 180, so there has to be something more to this that he’s missing. 

“Ro, y’like cartoons too?” Logan asks, soft and high and nothing like the way he usually speaks and articulates, and the tiny voice catches Roman incredibly off guard. He sounds… he sounds like a child. He sounds little.

Oh, that must be it! Roman remembers Thomas reading about age regression, about “littlespace” being a coping mechanism for trauma or stress. Logan would definitely be the one to retain that information, store it in the books in his room that are full of facts Thomas has learned throughout his life, so it’s no wonder this has happened. Roman theorizes that since Logan is definitely stressed out a lot having to make schedules (and remake schedules when Roman messes them up— he feels bad, but his work is important, okay?!) and try hard to help Thomas study and research things, his room must take that to the next level and puts him into a childlike mindset to offset his usual workaholic tendencies. After all, the purpose of their rooms is to help the side it’s assigned to, so if Logan’s room decided that being a kid is the thing he needs the most, then it must be true. 

Roman doesn’t have any complaints. Of course he wouldn’t, because if this helps Logan and allows him to relieve stress, then Roman would support him no matter what anyway. But this is also literally the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and his small boyfriend is so trusting and sweet, and he already adores this version of his nerd.

Said nerd giggles happily along with what happens on the screen, kicks his feet up and down excitedly and gasps at the cool events portrayed in the children’s show, and Roman kinda wishes he could watch him forever. However he knows his time is limited, so Roman just wraps his arms around the side in his lap, cuddles his delighted boyfriend close, and nods along when Logan rambles on about the characters in the show. He seems excited to be able to share with someone, passionately talking in that high tone and prominent lisp about his favourite characters’ backstories, and Roman is completely enamoured with him. He can’t help but push back the hood of his onesie and press kisses to the crown of Logan’s head, soft brown hair falling easily over sparkling eyes.

It’s not exactly the kind of hug Roman was hoping to get out of this originally, but Roman finds that he loves and appreciates it just as much.

-

This is such a terrible idea. Roman shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be all the way at the end of the hall standing in front of the bright green door. There’s a twinkie wrapper nailed to the center, and some sort of half-dried brown sludge dripping down the side, and Roman is already starting to regret this. What was he thinking? His brother hasn’t left his room in weeks, meaning he’s probably working on some crazy, grotesque project that he’ll likely just end up destroying anyway.

But there are already four boxes checked off, glittery red marks signifying their completion, and it wouldn’t make sense to quit now. After all, there’s only one more box, one more task, and it’s probably the hardest one out of all of them. The act of coming up to a side’s door in the middle of the night is starting to become very familiar, almost boring in a way. Where’s the drama, the pizzazz, the flair? Well, then again, this is Remus, so there’s sure to be something dramatic on the way.

Roman doesn’t bother knocking, just walks right in, and he’s wholly unsurprised by the state of his brother’s bedroom. Piles of trash reside in the corners, overflows from any surface it can. There’s a stack of mannequin limbs leaning against the wall, and Roman doesn’t even want to know what that’s for. The bed looks torn up, threads in the fabric frayed and split. There are stains on the walls, words written in pencil upon the discoloured wallpaper, nearly illegible with the messy scrawl. And in the middle of all of it sits Remus, cross-legged on the floor as he stares at the carpet with a completely blank expression. It’s so empty that it almost scares Roman, like there’s nothing behind those dark eyes. And then his counterpart notices Roman’s presence, shakes himself out of his stupour, and a familiar grin spreads across his face.

“Big bro! What’cha doing here? Thought y’a didn’t like my room. Isn’t it too gross and stinky for you?” Remus laughs, flinging a randomly conjured earthworm in his direction. Roman has to jump to the side to avoid it and narrowly misses stepping in a puddle of… something. He doesn’t really want to know what it is. Despite the revulsion Roman can feel at the state of his brother’s bedroom, his worry completely tramples everything else.

“No, I— stop throwing worms at me! I’m here because… well, I wanted to check on you. You’ve been here for a long time and I wanted to— to make sure you’re okay. You’re not hurt, are you?” Roman asks, neatly stepping over an old piece of chicken smashed into the carpet, and Remus’ gaze flashes with something bitter before returning to its usual bright, chaotic state. His smile never wavers, but it feels much faker than before, shows too many teeth.

“What do… whadda’ya mean? ‘f course I’m fine! I’m… I’m just playing with bugs, see?” Remus tells him, strained and spurious, and his brows pull in as he holds up a ladybug to show Roman. The latter of the two tilts his head in concern as he lowers himself to the ground in a patch of carpet unmarred by stain or rot. He wonders if it’s intentional. “Look, I conjured it myself! I mean, it’s— it’s probably not as good as yours are, but still!”

And even as Remus’ hand is dirty, even as he resides in a chamber of violence, the way he holds the ladybug is gentle, as if the small insect is a great treasure to him. Roman doesn’t miss the way Remus swallows and looks away, hunches his shoulders as if he’s prepared to be insulted and made fun of for his creation, and the familiarity of the action mirrored in Roman’s own psyche causes nausea to well up in his throat. He has Logan to calm him down with facts and rationality, Patton to give him compliments and affection, Virgil who knows just how to distract him when he’s feeling insecure about himself and his art. Remus doesn’t have that, and Roman knows that despite how much his brother can disturb him, he deserves compliments for his work too, even if said work isn’t necessarily Roman’s taste.

“It’s a very pretty ladybug, Remus,” Roman praises softly, an unusual reassurance as he lifts the ladybug up on the tip of his own finger. The red colour is a much deeper saturation than normal, and the distinction between black and white is extremely prominent, and Roman really isn’t lying when he says that it’s a good creation. The ladybug flutters its wings in tiny movements, sits picturesquely on his fingertip as Roman smiles kindly at it and then at his brother. And the way Remus looks up in wide-eyed shock, too stunned to pretend like everything’s okay, it sends a dagger of regret deep into Roman’s heart.

“Why?” Remus whispers, brows pulled together in a way that exposes his true inner turmoil. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me? I go against everything you represent.”

“Remus, you’re my brother! I made a promise to be your shield, and I intend to keep it,” Roman replies fiercely, protective and striving to make amends. Remus’ mouth falls open at the reminder of the pact they had formed as children, the pinky promise acting as an unbreakable vow to always keep each other safe. “You may be my opposite, but that just means we gotta have each other’s backs! You’re the sword, I’m the shield, remember?”

The ladybug on Roman’s fingers jumps off and flies away, dashing out of sight and leaving the two brothers alone on the floor again. It takes a lot of courage to put away his discomfort, to remind himself of who Remus truly is, but Roman manages to find that bravery within himself as he pulls his counterpart into a meaningful hug. He can feel how rigid Remus is, how much he’s locked his limbs up in an attempt to not jostle their positions. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate my little brother.”

Roman will make sure that his brother’s shaking grip and quiet, fleeting tears stay a secret, just between them.

[yayathellama19]

Slut for Slutty Brownies

Pairing: Gabriel x Chubby! Reader

Authors Note: I had no idea what to do with this story for the most part it was very vague,

so if you don't like it please let me know!

Warnings: Fluff(??), a little bit of angst.

Word Count: 1,052

Readers P.O.V

I sigh and push away from the table, cringing when the chair makes a horrible screeching noise. Thank God Sam and Dean

were on a supply trip or else I would be feeling Sams' disproving stare and Deans' agitated glare. We had been researching for a

case for days before Dean had finally snapped and Sam decided they needed a break, hence them going on that supply trip. They

had asked if I wanted to go but my big mouth said I would stay back. Sam obviously pointed out that I needed to take a break like

them or else I would crash. I regret not taking them up on their offer to go with them, but I can't really do anything to change it now. I pace back and forth and finally throw my hands up,

"I am taking a break!" I angrily stated and headed to the kitchen, wondering what I can bake. The picture of the mostly bare cupboards and cabinets bounce around in my mind, I groan when I walked through the archway, still not knowing what to make, I jerk open the pantry and glare before slamming it shut and stalking over towards the refrigerator and opening it before staring blankly. The low amount of supplies seeming to laugh at me as I squint my eyes. I throw back my head and huff before an idea popped into my head. My head snaps up as I remember the recipe I had saved on my laptop to try later and giddily run to my room to grab my laptop. I quickly open it and click on the bookmarks, rushing back to the kitchen,

"FOUND IT!", I smirked victoriously as I click on the link. As the link opens and the title 'Slutty Brownies' loads at the top I put it down on the counter.

"Okay, let us see if we have all the ingredients to make you" I mumble to myself. I scan the fridge and a frown comes to my face,

"Dang it, I am out of milk and butter" I grumble sadly. I huff and close the door only to hear a slight clang as something falls over in the fridge. I quickly open the fridge to see nothing had been knocked over or spilled, but what I did see was butter and milk?

"How did I not see you?" I narrow my eyes and tilted my head. I shrug and smile,

"Oh well, at least I can make these slutty brownies now!" I hum happily and grabbed the ingredients out of the fridge and pantry and set them on the counter next to my laptop. I grab the bowl and start throwing in ingredients and mixing the brownie batter in,

"Okay so it has three layers. Cookie dough at the bottom, oreos across the top of that in an even layer, and finally brownie batter on top. Okie dokie I got this." I smile and start humming to myself as I put down the finished brownie batter. I grab the other bowl containing the cookie dough and pour in chocolate chips, as I start mixing a thought crept into my head

'Do you really need to make this?'

'Should I even be eating this?' My arm slows down from the stirring and I could feel my arm fat jiggle. My eyes slowly drifted down to my arms and crawls down to my stomach. My thoughts began to quickly flicker through my mind and I felt tears begin to prick my eyes. Slowly, I put the bowl down and look down, poking at my pudgy stomach. I take a few steps back until my back hits the fridge and I sink down to the floor. I slowly blink and the tears dripped down my face.

'How can you even be a hunter with all this extra weight?' I feel my hands start to tremble,

'Do you think Sam and Dean ever judge your fat bouncing when you are on a hunt?' I bury my head and let out a quiet, gasping sob.

'What do you think Gabriel thinks?, he probably knows you like him and is just not saying anything-' A small flutter of wings interrupted my spiraling thoughts,

"Whoa, sweet cheeks, calm down. Your thoughts are making even me depressed. Why are you thinking like this?" A joking voice said. I look up to see Gabriel looking at me with concerned eyes.

"You okay? Sorry didn't mean to intrude, but I had heard my name and your thoughts and I just wanted to check on you" he said, sliding down to sit next to me. I open my mouth but only a sob escaped. I slap my hands over my mouth and shook my head as I start crying harder.

"Hey now, it's okay" Gabriel said as he pulled me into his arms and rocked me back and forth.

"You are fine, no one thinks that of you. You are perfect. Your soul is bright, sure it has splotches here and there, but it's pretty much perfect. You do not slow anyone down. You are such a huge asset to the Winchesters." He whispers as I gradually calm down to sobbing hiccups. He looks down at me with a small, sad smile,

"I know you are feeling terrible right now, you doubt yourself. You don't think anyone could ever love you back... But, I do." He looks away with a small blush. My eyes widen as I stare at him in shock.

"You like me? even with me being over weight and my face splotchy?" He chuckles a little and looks at me from the corner of his eyes

"Yeah, I do." I look down and stare at my hands that were in my lap. I heard him take a deep breath before he lifted my chin and quickly pressed his lips to mine and just as quickly pulls away.

"I know you will not automatically feel better, and I know you will have ups and downs and feel worthless. But, I will be here for you" He glances around and his gaze settles on the unfinished baking. He smirks,

"Hey, I can be your slutty brownie." he says while wiggling his brows. I just throw my head back and laugh.

[kelleyish]

I made some keto cookies a few days ago and they were awesome so I thought I’d share the recipe. I made them the first time over the holidays and couldn’t stop thinking about them, so I had to make them again. They’re very delicate and almost melt in your mouth. 

I doubled the recipe which is what appears below, and makes a couple dozen (I actually got 51 using the cookie scoop I was using.) Feel free to chop it in half if you don’t want that many cookies. But cookies go very fast in this house, so if I want the opportunity to actually eat more than one or two, I have to make a big batch. I listed the weights for the ingredients because if you aren’t cooking by weight when you can, you should be.

Toasted Pecan Snowball Cookies

FOR THE COOKIES:

210 grams pecans

128 grams almond flour

48 grams coconut flour

½ tsp xanthan gum

½ tsp kosher salt

1 brick Kerrygold or 2 sticks regular butter (225 g), softened

½ cup powdered erythritol (I used Swerve)

2 tsp vanilla

2 eggs

FOR THE POWDERED SUGAR COATING:

Powdered erythritol as needed (I used about 1/2 cup)

Pinch of cinnamon (I used 1 tsp)

Add pecans to a food processor and process until finely ground, but don’t go so far as to turn it into pecan butter. 

Add ground pecans and almond flour to a dry skillet and toast over medium heat, stirring constantly, until golden and fragrant (3-6 minutes), being careful not to burn it. Remove from pan and set aside to cool completely (very important). When it’s cool, whisk in the coconut flour, xanthan gum, and salt. Set aside.

Cream butter in a large bowl with an electric mixer, 2 minutes. Add erythritol and continue to beat until it’s  light and fluffy and looking like frosting, 7-8 minutes. Then add vanilla and eggs and beat until incorporated.

With your mixer on low, add in half of the nut flour mixture, mixing until just incorporated. Add the second half of the nut flour and mix again, just until incorporated.

You now need to refrigerate the dough for at least an hour, or up to three days. The original recipe called for putting it on plastic wrap and making it into a log, and then later slicing the log. But the recipe is for snowball cookies, which are normally, well, balls, not sliced cookies. So I just put the bowl in the fridge as is and used a cookie scoop to form the cookies. If you’re refrigerating it for longer than one hour, you should probably cover the bowl with plastic wrap.

Preheat oven to 350 and line a baking tray that will fit in your freezer with parchment or silpat. Use cookie scoop to portion cookies onto the tray. I don’t know how big my cookie scoop is, but it’s not huge. Bigger than a tbsp, but probably not two tbsp. Scoop your cookies out, and then if you want to clean up the ragged edges you can pick them up and roll them a little bit. If you wanted, you could roll them into complete balls, but I didn’t bother. Also be careful not to handle them too much and melt the butter.

You now need to put the tray into the freezer for 15 minutes prior to baking. I didn’t have enough freezer room for two dozen cookies, so I would fill a tray, put it in the freezer, fill another tray, and put that in the fridge until I took the ones out of the freezer to bake, thereby freeing up the space.

Bake the cookies for 9-11 minutes (I tended more towards the 11 minute end). The cookies will be barely golden and still appear largely uncooked (but don’t worry). Don’t touch them when they come out, and don’t try to move them until they’re mostly cool, or they will fall apart.

Mix together the extra erythritol and cinnamon. The original recipe called for a “pinch” but I love cinnamon so I loaded that bitch up. When the cookies are cool, carefully drop each one into the mixture and gently toss around with a fork. The mixture will stick to the cookies pretty well. Fish them out and put them back on the tray. 

Now rinse and repeat with all your cookie dough and then go eat a bunch of cookies. 

Makes about 50 cookies. 

Per Cookie:

82 calories 

8 g fat

1 g carbs (net)

1 g protein

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

12 Dates of Christmas - Cookies

AN: This is a series from the 12 days of christmas challenge that I did last year, but considering the blog redo and the fact that it's Christmas, I thought it was a good time for a rerun. Hope you all enjoy! 

Characters: Sebastian x Reader 

Warnings: Mostly fluffy throughout the series. 

Wordcount: 1569

October 30th

It was past 11 pm when a soft knock pulled Sebastian from the movie playing on his TV and back to reality. Furrowing his brows, he pushed pause and got up to go see who could be at his door at this hour of the night, no less confused when he saw you through the little peephole. 

His heart dropped in his chest when he opened the door and got a good look at you. Your eyes were puffy and glossed over with tears, your nose was red, and you looked so heartbroken. “What's going on?” he questioned, his voice filled with concern. 

“Jeremy cheated on me,” you said in a thick voice. The words had hardly left your lips before fresh tears fell from your eyes and you hurriedly hid your face in your hands. 

When Sebastian wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him, he could feel your body shaking with tears and all he wanted to do was go punch the asshole that had hurt you. “It's alright, (YN). I'm here,” he whispered in an attempt to comfort you a little bit. 

December 14th.

Soft Christmas tunes filled your apartment as you danced around the kitchen to gather up all the ingredients needed. It was a Friday night, and as per usual, you would spend it at home, sad and alone. Well… you were officially working on the sad part. Things kind of sucked after your boyfriend of two years had cheated on you and the relationship had ended, but you sort of felt like you had wallowed in self pity enough so now you were determined to have a semi nice evening alone. 

A smile crept to your lips as your phone rang and your best friends name lit up on your screen. “Hey, Seb. What's up?” 

“Hey. You sound chipper today,” he noted and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I'm calling to make you come out and have some drinks with me,” he added. 

“I am a little chipper,” you confirmed. “But I'll have to pass on the drinks tonight.” 

“Come on, (YN). You've hardly left your apartment in ages,” he whined. “And no one else is free, so I need you to keep me company.” 

“I have Christmas music playing, I've added some whiskey to my tea, and I'm about to produce cookies like a freaking factory. My plans are non negotiable.” 

“You put whiskey in your tea?” he asked with a small chuckle. 

“Damn straight. If you can't find anyone to hang out with, you’re more than welcome to come help me bake,” you said. Going out to a crowded bar didn't sound appealing to you in the slightest, but you definitely wouldn't mind the company. 

“Fine,” he conceded. “Do you need me to pick something up on the way?” 

“Nope. I got everything I need.” 

“Alright. See you in a little,” he said, not giving you the chance to say goodbye before he hung up the phone. 

Bing Crosby's smooth voice poured out of your speakers as you started mixing together the first batch of chocolate chip cookies, singing along to the words as you went. Sebastian had been your friend for as long as you could remember, but nowadays he was traveling and filming most of the time, so the two of you didn't really get to spend any time together anymore. He had been great over the past month and a half though, after everything that went down with Jeremy. 

The first tray of cookies had just been put in the oven as Seb walked through the door, a smile on his face that turned into laughter when he saw you and your apron. It was drawn as a sexy Mrs. Claus with a huge cleavage, she was holding a spatula and the writing read “Naughty boys get spanked”. Inappropriate? Yes. Funny? Hell yes.

“What?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face. “Is it my hat?” 

He hadn't even noticed your hat at first, but now he doubled over laughing at the ridiculous headpiece. “Why does it have ears?” His voice was thick with laughter as he motioned to the hat. 

“It's not ears, it's antlers,” you corrected, your cheeks hurting from trying not to laugh at the adorable man in front of you. “You know, because reindeer have antlers. Oh… and look.” You reached up and pressed the red ball that stuck to the middle of the hat and it started blinking. “I'm Rudolph,” you stated proudly. 

“This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen,” he said, cracking up again as he saw the blinking nose. “Hold still so I can take a photo,” he gently ordered.

You did as he said and put both hands on your waist, popping your hips out and offering him the most exaggerated smile in history. “Now, if you’re done laughing at my beautiful outfit, you can come help me with this.” 

Sebastian looked at you with a wide grin as he shook his head. “I feel very little Christmassy compared to you,” he noted as he rounded the island in your kitchen and stood next to you. “I'm gonna need this,” he declared, pulling the hat from your head, making your hair frizzy at the top before he placed it on his own head. “How do I look?” 

“Hold on,” you said, reaching up and squeezing the red ball to get it blinking again. “Perfect,” you giggled. 

“So what do I do?” he asked, clapping his hands together as his eyes traveled the messy counter before landing on the bowl of cookie dough, ready to make some christmas treats. Sebastian wasn't the best cook in the world, but he figured that with you next to him, telling him exactly what to do, he couldn't mess it up too bad. 

“You take a spoonful of dough in your hand and roll it up into a little ball, and place it on the tray there,” you explained simply.

“Sounds like something I can do. I also heard rumors about some whiskey flavored tea,” he hinted as he started rolling up the first cookie. 

“One spiked cup of tea, coming up,” you said cheerily as you moved to put on the kettle again. 

The hours flew by as the two of you goofed around the kitchen. Not just the hours though, but the whiskey too, and before you knew it was way past midnight. The kitchen looked like hell, but all the cookies had been made and you figured you’d leave the clean up for sober (YN) tomorrow. You did this because tipsy (YN) was a little bitch sometimes. 

The two of  you had plopped down on opposite ends of the couch and the Christmas playlist you had put on was repeating itself for the third time, but this was the first truly fun evening you’d had in a while, and truth be told, you didn't even notice the repeating music. 

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight,” you said softly, looking into your now empty cup of whiskey tea and pouting a little before you leaned forward and set it on the table. However much you wanted one more, you knew that you had probably had enough for tonight.  

“My pleasure, sweetheart. You seem better today,” he noted. Sebastian wasn't blind, he had seen the pain you’d been in since your breakup. Not that he blamed you for that, but the dick that had broken your heart was definitely not worth the pain… he understood though. 

“I feel a little better today,” you told him, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’ve been dreading the holiday season to be honest, but I decided that I'm gonna find my Christmas spirit and enjoy it.” 

“That's my girl,” he praised, sending you a smile. “Have you decided if you’re going home or not?” 

Now that was the question, wasn't it. You and Jeremy had planned a three week trip to Hawaii to spend Christmas there, which meant you had taken out all your vacation days at work and told your family that you wouldn't be home for the holidays. So basically you were stuck in New York alone. “I called to cancel the Hawaii trip a couple of weeks ago so I could get some money back and get a plane ticket home,” you started, but your sentence died out. 

“Buuuut?” he dragged. 

“But one Mr. Jeremy had already called and changed the name on my ticket to Jessica something,” you continued, the hurt and anger in your voice poorly disguised. 

“What? You’re joking right?” Seb asked, straightening up on the couch as you shook your head. “Jesus Christ what a dick.” 

“Yup,” you agreed, bobbing your head slowly. “I can't get my half of the money back, so I'm gonna just stay here and make the most of it,” you said, trying to shrug it off like it was no big deal. 

“You’re better off without him, you know that right?” he questioned in a serious tone, reaching out and giving your knee a squeeze. A simple gesture to let you know he was there for you. 

“I know,” you said, but Seb had known you long enough to know you weren't being completely honest. 

“Tell you what,” he started as he got to his feet. “Tomorrow, you and I are gonna go find a Christmas tree and we’re gonna get Christmas going for real in this place.” 

“I also need decorations,” you piped in, also standing from your seat. 

“Tree and decorations,” he confirmed. “Wait, are you telling me that the only Christmassy things you own are the inappropriate apron and the funny hat?” 

“Yes,” you said a little proudly. “Because I picked them up at the dollar store earlier today,” you chuckled. 

“You are a woman of impeccable taste,” he joked. “I'm gonna head home. Just let me know when you’re ready tomorrow.” 

You walked Sebastian to your door and gave him a quick hug before he left, smiling slightly to yourself at the prospect of spending more time with him the next day.  

[dani-ellie03]

Fic: Wednesday’s Child (5/?)

Title: Wednesday’s Child Summary: The next time Emma Swan wanted magical help, she was on her own. Because now they were stuck with a pint-sized savior who clearly had an attitude problem and a terrified but pretending not to be pre-pirate. Spoilers: If you’re current, we’re good. Rating/Warning: PG-13, mostly for safety. Family angst/fluff, as per usual. Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I’m just borrowing them but I’ll put them back when I’m finished!

—–

{1} {2} {3} {4}

At ff.net and below.

-----

Snow lovingly watched her little girl explore the bedroom she'd chosen for herself and Killian. After poking through the books on the shelves and examining the artwork hung on the walls, she returned to the music box. She opened it again, letting the soft melody fill the room. "You like that, don't you?" Snow asked after a long beat of silence, her voice soft so as not to startle her baby.

"It's pretty," Emma replied, her voice just as soft as Snow's. "The song, I mean."

"I think it's pretty, too. The music box was mine when I was a girl and I used to play it while I was trying to fall asleep at night."

A little smile curled on Emma's lips. "I can see where it could work as a lullaby."

A comfortable silence fell between mother and daughter as Emma let the music wind down. How many nights would Emma have let that very same music box be her own lullaby while she was growing up a princess in the Enchanted Forest?

It was best not to think about that, Snow decided.

When the song ended, Emma closed the lid and rejoined Snow on the bed. "Can I ask why the music box is in here and not the squirt's room?"

It wasn't until the question was voiced that Snow realized she had a point. Why had she put the music box in here, in a guest room made for her grown-up baby? It would have made more sense to place it on a shelf in the nursery where it could do its intended task of playing a baby to sleep.

And then it came to her: she'd put it in here because she'd wanted the music box to be Emma's. From the moment Snow learned she was pregnant with her Emma, she'd planned on putting the music box in her nursery and letting it sing her to sleep. Her precious little girl had never gotten the chance to use it.

Not that she could explain any of that to the girl now looking at her somewhat expectantly. "I guess I just wanted a little girl to have it," she said instead, smiling down at her baby and hoping this wasn't too much honesty for her. "I'm glad you enjoy it so much."

Though Emma didn't say a word, she returned the smile. Snow let out a soft breath of relief.

"So," Snow spoke up before the silence between them could grow uncomfortable, "now that you've got your room picked out and Neal is down for his nap, I was wondering if you and Killian might want to help me with a project."

"What kind of project?"

The speed at which her little girl could go from almost comfortable to wary and on guard made Snow's heart ache. "As it happens, today I find myself with two extra children in my charge," she explained, the teasing tone of her voice setting Emma a little more at ease, "and I decided to make a special treat for tonight's dessert. How would you like to help me bake some chocolate chip cookies?"

To Snow's shock, Emma froze.

Adult Emma liked to bake. Well, mostly she liked chatting while Snow mixed the ingredients together and then sneaking wads of cookie dough when she was supposed to be dropping them onto the cookie sheets. The point was, baking with Emma was usually a safe family activity, one that she enjoyed while pretending she didn't.

Little Emma, though, clearly felt differently and Snow felt like she'd somehow stepped on a hidden landmine. The poor girl was withdrawing again and Snow didn't know what to do to defuse said landmine. "Emma? Is something wrong?"

Even though there was plainly something wrong, Emma shook her head.

This poor little girl was so reticent, so hesitant to trust, so reluctant to let anyone in. And it gutted Snow more than words could express that her hesitance was born from hard, brutal experience. In her baby's mind, why should she continue to let people in if all letting people in had gotten her was hurt?

And it was precisely that realization that told Snow exactly how to defuse the landmine. All this poor girl needed was love and support and people she could truly rely on. The rest would come in time.

Determined to let Emma know she was ready and willing to give her that support, Snow turned on the bed so she was facing her little girl and looked her in the eye. "Sweetheart, I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me. You can tell me anything, all right?"

Emma searched her face, looking for sincerity. Snow, knowing that this interaction was crucial, simply held her gaze. She wanted Emma to know that she could trust her with whatever was troubling her.

Eventually, Emma nodded slightly and set her shoulders as if preparing herself. "I'm not a very good baker. I've only tried a couple of times but I got in trouble each time."

Snow's heart sank to her stomach. What kind of punishments had her sweet baby endured? From what she remembered of the little hints adult Emma had dropped before the Curse broke, she didn't even want to contemplate them. "Well, tell you what. We can have a baking lesson instead. David and I can show you and Killian what to do and I promise no one will get in trouble."

Again, her little girl searched her face. After a beat, she nodded her approval of Snow's plan, pushed herself to her feet, and, after a brief moment of thought, held her hand out for Snow's.

That was all it took for Snow's heart to soar out of her stomach and float high in the sky. With that one little gesture, her baby had taken a huge step forward. However tentatively, she was putting her trust in Snow.

Knowing she shouldn't call too much attention to that fact, Snow simply smiled, grasped her little girl's hand, and stood up. The two of them peeked in on Neal, who Snow was glad to see was sleeping peacefully, before heading back down to the kitchen. When they entered the room hand-in-hand, a surprised Charming raised eyebrows at his wife. Snow smiled in silent reply and she had a funny feeling he was going to ask her the second they were alone what miracle had transpired upstairs.

"Which room did you choose?" Killian asked from his spot at the counter. Charming had clearly guessed that baking was going to be in the children's immediate futures because he and Killian had retrieved the mixer, bowls, measuring cups, and cookie sheets and set them out on the counter, ready for use.

"The bigger one," Emma replied.

Charming looked up at Snow, a touched smile on his lips. He, too, had clearly made the connection between the furniture in that room and Emma choosing it as her own.

Killian grinned at her. "I knew you were going to choose that one."

"How could you tell?"

The boy shrugged and once again, Snow and Charming shared a smile over the kids' heads. There was that True Love connection again, the one Emma and Killian were now too young to understand.

"All right," Snow said in her best teacher voice as she and Emma joined Charming and Killian behind the counter. "This baking lesson shall now come to order."

Emma snickered at her tone while Killian frowned at the ingredients in front of him. "What are we making?"

"Chocolate chip cookies," Emma answered. The "duh" was implied.

"What are chocolate chip cookies?"

Of course. A child from the Enchanted Forest wouldn't know what chocolate chip cookies were. Thankfully, Emma didn't appear all that thrown by his question, seeming to take it as part of Killian's pretending. "Chocolate chip cookies are pure deliciousness," Charming teased, making Emma smile. "Watch and learn."

And they were off. Snow put Emma in charge of the wet ingredients while Killian mixed the flour, baking soda, and salt. She showed him how to measure out the amounts needed of each ingredient with the measuring cups and spoons while Charming helped Emma figure out how to measure out three-quarters of a cup of sugar using one-half and one-quarter measuring cups at her disposal. ("Fractions are hard," the girl huffed, much to her parents' shared amusement.)

When the time came to crack the eggs, Snow handed one to each child. "Have at it," she said, grinning to herself when the children grinned at each other.

It never failed; every child's favorite part of baking anything was cracking the eggs.

Killian and Emma did so with glee. Emma dropped hers in the bowl first and watched it incorporate with the sugar, vanilla, and butter. Once hers was mixed in completely, she nodded to Killian, who plopped his own egg into the bowl. "That was fun," the boy whispered to Emma, making Snow's and Charming's shared heart melt into a puddle.

As soon as Killian's egg was incorporated, Snow gave him the okay to start adding his dry ingredients to the bowl. "You have to do it slowly," Charming instructed a moment too late.

In his enthusiasm, Killian dumped the entire two and a quarter cups of flour into the mixing bowl. A torrent of flour billowed upwards as the poor mixer tried to incorporate everything all at once. Emma shrieked, turned off the mixer, and jumped back all in one fluid motion. A startled Killian leaped out of the way as well but neither child was fast enough to avoid a dusting of flour coating their hair.

Charming and Snow both stifled snickers. Snow's heart did twinge, however, when Emma turned a hesitant glance on first her and then Charming. Was this – or something similar – something Emma had gotten in trouble for during one of her ill-fated baking sessions?

When she saw that the adults didn't appear angry with the accidental mess and were instead amused by it, Emma cracked up laughing, which in turn set Killian off. "Is that why I needed to do it slowly?" he asked somewhat sheepishly.

"That's exactly why," Snow chuckled. "No harm done. We'll just have to mix the dough by hand a bit before we let the machine take back over."

While Snow worked on getting the dough back under control, Charming reached out and ruffled Killian's hair. The action sent the flour that had settled on his head back into the air, which set the children giggling again.

Oh, how Snow would never get tired of hearing that sound.

She let Killian dump the chocolate chips into the bowl and Emma mix them in and pretended not to notice when Emma snagged a few chips off the top for her and Killian to snack on. (Killian liked them a lot, if his facial expression was anything to go by.)

As soon as the dough was ready, Charming taught the children how to gather the dough onto a spoon and drop them onto the waiting cookie sheets. Once again, they pretended they didn't see Emma and Killian sneaking little wads of raw dough here and there. (Emma was definitely the bigger culprit in that regard; Killian didn't seem to like the gritty texture of the raw dough.)

Just as they were about to fill the last cookie sheet, Regina called out from the front hallway. "Hello? The front door was open!"

"In the kitchen, Regina!" Snow called back even though she could have simply followed the aroma of baking cookies.

Regina entered the room carrying two kitchen trash bags filled with clothes. "Wow, look, you two have new wardrobes!" Charming exclaimed as he relieved her of the bags. "Killian, do you want to help me bring these upstairs?"

"Sure," the boy said with a shrug. He wiped his hands on the dish towel Snow had set out on the counter for the children and took one of the bags from Charming's hands.

The boys left, Charming chattering to Killian the entire way. "Do I want to know why it appears as if these two took baths in flour?" Regina asked, arching a teasing eyebrow at Snow.

"Probably not," Snow chuckled.

Emma, who had withdrawn a little at Regina's entrance and was now eyeing her carefully, asked, "Where'd you get all those clothes?"

There was no mistaking the challenge in the little girl's question. "Some are hand-me-downs from my son," Regina answered, her tone more gentle than Snow had anticipated. "Some are new."

Wait, new? How? Buying new clothes hadn't been part of the plan.

Upon spying the question in Snow's eyes, Regina gave a surreptitious wave of her hand. Ah, so she hadn't bought a single thing. The new clothes had come courtesy of her magic. "If there's something you don't like or that doesn't fit right," Regina continued, "we can take it back. It's just to get you started, anyway."

The girl considered that for a moment. Then, after recognizing the honesty of Regina's answer and taking the earlier conversation with Snow and Charming into account, she nodded. "Thank you for bringing them to us."

Both Snow and Regina, who recognized a tentative olive branch when they saw it, smiled. "You're welcome, Emma," Regina replied.

-----

Chapter Six

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: Cooking With Anime - Manju from "Sakura Quest"

Manju! Who would have expected that these little sweets would show up in Sakura Quest? Koharu, the main character, has been summoned out to a village that has been left behind by the times. Her job is to be their new Queen in the hopes of bringing tourism to the area. The village is a little old-fashioned and quaint, so I guess it makes sense that manju are featured as opposed to, say, a more trendy dessert, like pancakes or crepes. Manju are definitely a more traditional kind of sweet, typically filled with red bean paste. I actually haven't tried manju in real life, as I'm not a huge fan of red bean paste. However, red bean paste is a traditional sweet in Japan and is commonly found in a lot of confections like mochi, anpan, taiyaki, and manju. 

Koharu and her friends absolutely STRUGGLE to sell these little manju, making for a very entertaining episode chronicling their attempts to offload 1,000 boxes of manju. These manju are decorated with the mascot of the town- a Chupakabra. In case you missed the pun, a Chupacabra is a type of creature from folklore in the Americas. It's like the Bigfoot of South America, but real, bloodthirsty, and coming to GET YOU.

    From what I was told when I was little, the Chupacabra is supposed to be from Mexico, it drinks the blood of livestock, and has spines all down its back. I know people (*cough* my room mate *cough*) who were absolutely TERRIFIED of the Chupacabra when they were little. In California, at least, the fear is REAL. 

  You can imagine my surprise when the Chupacabra came up as the mascot of a tiny Japanese village. For real, what the heck? After a little investigating (read: asking my boyfriend, who is fluent in Japanese to translate for me), I discovered that Chupakabra, as it's spelled in the anime, is a play on the Chupacabra and a kabra, which means turnip in Japanese. Which also makes sense, if you look at the original mascot of the town, which is a large, sad faced turnip boy. In the picture below, you can see his head. 

    Honestly, I think this whole show is so weird and funny. What the heck. Who thinks turnips would make a great mascot??? The Chupacabra is TERRIFYING! Why would be bring people to the village? So many questions, so few answers. But, if manju can do anything, it can provide us wil a snack while we ponder over life's mysteries. After watching Koharu try to sell so many, I wanted to give the recipe a try, mostly to make my roommate happy. She loves red bean paste, so I thought this would be perfect for her. 

Once again, I made these two ways- gluten free, and the normal way. Both ways worked incredibly well, so I recommend you give either recipe a try. The end result was a crunchy outer layer, almost like a cookie, with a smooth, warm, red bean paste filling. We got our third room mate to try these, as she's actually eaten manju before, and she said they tasted really authentic! This makes me very happy since I've never actually eaten manju before...

As you can see, the original manju have the Chupakabra monster painted on. Despite my best attempts, I found this way too difficult to replicate usinig just my home kitchen. If you are hell-bent on making this happen, you can do it a few ways.

1) Paint on the monster using the egg wash glaze. When it bakes, it should produce the lines so you can see the monster, though I would consider this the most ineffectual of the options. I tried it and had poor results.

2) Make a stencil. Dust chocolate powder over the stencil to create the lines of the monster's face. I did not try this, because I had neither the right paper, nor the right tools for cutting out slivers of tiny paper, nor the patience to do this.

3) Make a brand out of metal. Heat over a flame. Brand your manju. I did not try this because I'm not a metal-worker, nor do I know anyone who is, nor do I have the money to drop on a one-time-use custom kitchen item.

4) In hindsight, I suppose you could draw on the design with a food-safe marker. I didn't attempt this because I'm only thinking of it now, but it probably wouldn't matter anyway because I can't draw to save my life. However, if you wanted to try this, I think a food-safe marker would be the best idea. 

Watch the video below for full instructions! 

      Ingredients:

Recipe adapted from here.

1/2 cup flour or 1/2 gluten free flour (Cup 4 Cup or Krusteaz Gluten Free Flour work great!)

1 egg, beaten and divided

2 tbs sugar

1 tbs condensed milk

1/2 tbs melted butter

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/2 cup koshian (smooth red bean paste) 

      To Make: 

  1. Combine half of beaten egg, sugar, condensed milk, and butter in a bowl. 

2. Sift in flour and baking soda. Mix together and form dough into a disc. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, preferably 1 hour-overnight.

3. Divide red bean paste into 9 pieces, and roll into equal sized balls.

4.  Preheat oven to 350 F.  When dough is ready, divide and roll into 9 pieces. 

5. Flatten a ball of dough between your hands, and, when big enough, tuck a ball of bean paste inside the dough and pinch the edges together. Roll gently to smooth seams. Place seam down on a lined baking sheet. 

  6. Using the remaining egg, wash the manju with the egg to give a nice shine when in the oven.

7. Bake for 10-15 minutes, or until bottoms are golden brown and tops are shiny. 

    I hope you enjoyed this post! Check in next week for another recipe. To check out more anime food recipes, visit my blog. If you have any questions or comments, leave them below! I recently got a Twitter, so you can follow me at @yumpenguinsnack if you would like, and DEFINITELY feel free to send me food requests! My tumblr is yumpenguinsnacks.tumblr.com. Find me on Youtube for more video tutorials! Enjoy the food, and if you decide to recreate this dish, show me pics! :D

  In case you missed it, check out our last dish: Scones from "Akashic Records of Bastard Magic Instructor". What other famous anime dishes would you like to see Emily make on COOKING WITH ANIME?

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com