#prompt: baking

[suitelif3]

The sweet taste of eggnog

rated t | 1.2k | ao3

For @steddiemas, prompt: baking, eggnog

**

The bell dinged above his head as he opened the door, immediately smelling the wafting scents of blueberry, lemon, chocolate, and gingerbread, overwhelming his nose with the sweet scents. Eddie could already feel his mouth watering, his sweet tooth on the prowl for something good. The variety of pastries and desserts were never ending, all of them stacked behind the glass counters. His eyes scanned his options, but had no idea where to start. Everything looked so good, he could hardly decide.

“Be with you in a minute!” A voice called from the back.

Eddie took his time walking up and down, peering through the glass, trying to narrow his options down.

“Hey, find what you’re looking for?” The voice said from right in front of him.

Eddie looked up to see a fucking Adonis of a man, he had gorgeous eyes that were shining brightly, chestnut hair pushed back with smears of flour in it and a light dusting of white on his cheek. The man seemed to be doing a lot of activity in the back since he had splotches of red along his neck and jawline. Eddie wanted to see how far down they went.

“Yes, absolutely.” Eddie gazed intently into this beautiful man’s eyes.

“Great! What can I get you?” The man grinned, his face radiating, and making Eddie positively weak at the knees.

“Your name.” Eddie breathed out. He flushed, not meaning to have said that out loud.

“Oh!” The man parted his lips in surprise, looking confused for a split second before turning his lips up into a soft smile. “It’s Steve.”

**

Eddie started coming in regularly, always eager to talk to Steve. Every time Eddie ordered something, they chatted about a multitude of things: their interests, hobbies, favorite movies, music they liked -“You need to listen to Master of Puppets, Steve. It has the best guitar solo you will ever hear!” “As long as you listen to Backstreets.” “Deal.”- trips they wanted to take, dreams they had for the future, and pretty much anything else they could think of. Eddie was falling for Steve harder the more and more he came into the bakery.

A couple months into Eddie coming by a few times a week - he noticed his pants were getting a little tighter - he decided he was finally going to ask Steve out. It was getting closer to Christmas, and he wanted to have some holiday dates with Steve like walking around looking at the lights, hands intertwined, and clutching mugs filled with hot chocolate. He wanted to wear ugly sweaters together, all snuggled by the fire, with A Wonderful Life playing in the background. He wanted to take a stroll through the snow, and maybe kiss Steve under the mistletoe when he came over. But he was running out of time.

He pushed open the door, the familiar ding of the bell interrupting the quiet from inside.

Steve came out from the back, holding a large cardboard box. His biceps flexed holding up the weight, and Eddie stared unabashedly.

“Hey, Eddie!” Steve smiled at him like he always did, his whole face lifting, crinkles around his eyes. He was so beautiful when he smiled like this. “We have some holiday specials, wanna try some?”

“I always want to try what you make, sweetheart.”

Steve honest to god giggled, and Eddie wanted to savor the sound if he didn’t get to hear it over and over again. He watched Steve put down the box, the veins of his arms protruding. “I was hoping you would come by today, I just baked a new batch I wanted to sell for the holidays this morning. We have some gingersnap, peppermint, shortbread, and eggnog cookies. Any of those sound appealing?”

“All of them do, sweetheart. But I do have some fond memories of the taste of eggnog.” Eddie briefly remembered the Christmas nights he would have with his Uncle Wayne, him taking off work from the plant, and spending the night with Eddie. How after the big Christmas dinner they could afford - mostly being boxed mac and cheese, deviled eggs, a casserole they could throw together, and maybe a discounted ham if they could fine one - they would drink their weight in eggnog, talk throughout the night and later fall asleep watching whatever Christmas movie they could find.

Steve nodded his head with a smile. “Eggnog it is then.”

Eddie waited until Steve got the cookies from the back, trying to obtain the confidence to ask Steve out. He fidgeted in place, hoping this would all go well.

Steve came back, presenting a whole tray of eggnog cookies. They smelled of saccharine, and looked delicious. The cookies were in the shape of a glass, with icing filling it with the color of eggnog. They were so cute and christmassy, and Eddie knew Steve put his all into these cookies. Like he always did.

Eddie picked a cookie off the tray, immediately taking a bite. He couldn’t help the little moan he let out around the cookie. It tasted so good, the flavor melting in his mouth, and taking him right back to those Christmas nights with his Uncle. The cookies tasted heavenly.

“Oh my god, Steve.” Eddie groaned out. “These are devine, literally transporting me to all the times I drank eggnog but sweeter! I need to take so many of these home, my Uncle would love them.”

“You can take as many as you want Eds. I can even give you a dozen on the house.” Steve winked at him.

“Literally marry me.” Eddie breathed out.

Steve flushed, the red spreading on his cheeks, all the way down his neck, maybe further but Eddie couldn’t see under his sweater. “Uh- what?” Steve half laughed.

Eddie froze, not believing he was ruining his chance. I mean how could he not want to marry the man who not only looked like a god but could bake the most godly creations Eddie had the pleasure of tasting. He wanted Steve in any way he could have him, and needed Steve to know that.

“Um, I mean, only if you would want to, but not like now! In like a couple years maybe, if things go well. But we also don’t have to! Just throwing it out there, really. But I would love at least a date. With you. At some point in the distant future. We could go on a holiday date maybe?” Eddie floundered.

He couldn’t read the look on Steve’s face, but it looked almost fond, endearing maybe? It was hard to tell behind all of the panic Eddie was currently feeling.

“I would love to.” Steve beamed at him.

“Oh! You would?” Eddie burned crimson, feeling hot all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Yes, Eddie. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” Steve’s eyes sparkled, making him look even more stunning.

Steve leaned over the counter, reaching to pull Eddie closer. Eddie went willingly, helpless to do anything but follow.

Steve cupped his cheek, and pressed their lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss. When Steve pulled away, Eddie lingered in his space, their lips brushing. Eddie pulled him in again, deepening the kiss. He could taste the sweetness of Steve’s mouth, running his tongue along the edge. He savored the subtle hints of eggnog coating Steve’s soft lips. It was all he could ever wish for Christmas.

**

I’m actually pretty proud of this one! let me know what you think, always eager to hear comments <3

thank you to my beta reader @hiseyebrowsaregone!

[roses-and-revolutions]

DC x DP Prompt

The wail isn't the only thing Danny can do with his voice.

He finds this out when he is hanging out on a date with his new friend soon-to-boyfriend Jason, and the cafe they're in gets fear-gassed.

Jason and everyone else in the cafe start to lose their shit and Danny doesn't know what to do. Most of his powers were locked away because Gramps wanted him to enjoy a normal-ish college life!

On the verge of tears, Danny remembers a time when Ellie was having a nightmare, and he found that singing to her soothed her.

And in a desperate attempt, Danny began to sing.

It was a soft soothing melody, so soft that realistic speaking, no one should have heard it. But the entirety of Gotham did.

In those few moments, the effects of the fear gas disappeared, and whatever anger, fear, helplessness, emptiness, loneliness, whatever negative emotion was being felt at that time dissipated as well.

For once, Gotham air didn't feel so heavy.

And Danny was sure he scored himself a second date.

[hungharrington]

So I was reading your post about how Steve takes pride in having a scratched up back and it got me thinking about how he’d react to his girl being physically unable to stand/walk the morning after. Like he’d be so smug for at least a week all like >:) hehehe I did that >:). And the entire day he’d be all smirky like ‘does my baby need to be carried’ and then you tell him he’s banned from sex for a week lol.

FJDHSHSHS this ask made me actually cackle it was so golden thank u so much for sending it to me <3 it’s more goof than smut <3

There’s an ache between your thighs and you know exactly where you got it.

Well, you know precisely how you got it— from the culprit currently dozing beside you in early morning light. 

You have to blink heavily as you come to, drawn out of a deep, deep sleep by the morning dawn. It’s light enough outside for the room to have a soft glow. The curtains are still drawn and the sheets are fresh, though after last night, perhaps they’ll need changing again.

Shifting about to get comfortable, you feel that familiar tenderness between your legs — it’s a soreness that you only get from particularly passionate night.

You peek to the side, searching for your love.

Steve’s hair is sticking up at all angles, mussed up, and his mouth is open, snuffly snores getting pressed into his pillow.

You can’t see that with his back to you, but you can see that canvas of tan skin and moles.

And scratches. Lots and lots of scratches, pink against his skin and raised in some places. An undeniable mark of a good time.

At the sight, some flusters and something preens in you. It stems from something possessive, a purr hiding under your skin at the knowledge you’ll both be feeling little reminders this morning.

You shuffle closer and wake him with a kiss on the back of his neck.

Like your lips stir him, Steve gives a sleepy groan in response, making you smile. You kiss him again, this time further up along his shoulder, and then give him an affectionate little bite. Barely a nibble.

“Mm, hey,” Steve says, voice faux-stern and coated in sleep. It’s gravelly enough to make you consider a round two. You watch over his shoulder as his eyelashes scrunch open. “What’re doin’ back there?”

You soothe your tiny bite-mark with another kiss and push yourself up, sheets pooling around your waist. As much as you’d love to doze off in Steve’s arms all morning, there’s things on your to-do list.

“Nothing of consequence,” you say, looking down at Steve with a loving smile. You trace across between the moles of his back with an idle finger, until he rolls over toward you, forcing you to stop.

“Mhm,” He hums. His hazel eyes are warm like the morning, like the bed, like the softness between you.

“I think that means nothing important— to which I have to protest,” He captures your wandering hand and kisses it gently, eyes fixed on you. “Massively.” Another kiss. “Majorly. Everything you do is important.”

The next kiss is so feathersoft, on the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist, that your laugh is tickled out of you. Worming your hand out of his hold, you grin, even as you roll your eyes.

“Suck up.”

Steve laughs, his voice still rougher than usual. He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Nuh uh.”

The warmth of his gaze glazes over you as you turn and shuffle to your edge of the bed, pushing on your hands to get to your feet.

It takes about half a second before the ache in your core sends out a hot throb of pain and pleasure, a very imaginable reminder of just how Steve had drilled the ache into you a mere few hours ago.

You push through it and stand, but your legs shake noticeably.

“Oho, baby,” Steve coos, noticing immediately. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder and find he’s perked up, his head held up in his hand. He looks divine — and far, far too happy about the quake in your legs.

“Rough night?”

“Shut up,” You say with no bite. “Like it isn’t your damn fault.”

Steve laughs, “That’s exactly why I’m smirking, honey.”

You take a step and your legs feel no less like jelly, a little bend in your knees you have to correct quickly.

The warm ache pulses and you can only think of—Steve pushing your thigh up against your chest, grinding his hips into you, each deep thrust pulling these desperate sounds from you as he lost himself in you—

You take another step and something buckles, making you stumble for a moment. Your face flames with heat.

“Woah, you alright?” There’s a tint of concern to Steve’s voice as he properly sits up in the bed and scoots over to sit closer to your side. Reaching out, he tenderly rubs your lower back, his brows pinched together as he checks you over.

“I’m okay,” You say over your shoulder to appease his genuine worry. Then you lean back into his hand with a dramatic huff, rolling your eyes again. “No thanks to you.”

“Mm, I fucked you good,” Steve hums casually, leaning forward to press a kiss to the hip he can reach. There’s a smugness to his tone that you actually can’t dispute because he’s absolutely correct.

“Does baby need to be carried?” He says, enjoying himself far too much.

You glare down at him, letting him simmer in his smugness for just a moment. Your hand reaches down, tangling in his hair, and you smile like you’re about to fall into his arms and say oh yes baby, please.

“I think,” You begin, casting your gaze to the ceiling as you think. “Mm, no sex for a week for that comment.”

Steve’s mouth pops open, an aghast expression on his face. “Baby!”

You wander backward, away from his wandering hand, focusing on making sure your legs keep you upright. There’s a goading grin on your face.

“You heard me.”

“That’s- you— I’m being punished for being good at my job!”

Your head tilts back in laughter as you reach the doorway. You eye him with a knowing smirk, shaking your head softly. “That’s not why you’re being punished and you know why…”

As you turn, heading for the kitchen, you don’t doubt the pout on Steve’s lips.

[madeline-kahn]

@pscentral event 34: parallels + event 35: take three (arcs | favorite character | growth)

Downton Abbey 1.01 || Downton Abbey: A New Era (2022)

[gleafer]

I played with some Twitter friends! Enjoy!

I draw what you ask, but not what you’re expecting!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 314

Danny has discovered something absolutely amazing. While he can’t cook for shit, he can? Actually bake? Really well? Must be those bonding sessions in Long Now with Clockwork making all those cookies and cakes and everything else. 

But? This means he can A, actually make himself food, and B, has somehow befriended several more ghosts, including his rogues. Apparently he gave off bedraggled cat vibes when covered in flour. Or they just enjoyed the cupcakes he’d made to look like them in a sleep deprived ferver. 

But hey, he even has a decent job while he’s in (online due to medical issues, officially) college at one of the local bakery-cafes. Which means he also gets free coffee, so that’s nice too. Just erm, he might’ve gotten in the habit of handing cookies or other baked goods to anyone trying to attack him.

Look, it’s how he befriended his rogues (Apparently Fright Knight, being the ghost of Autumn, enjoys pumpkin spice cookies, who knew?) and they even continue to visit too. 

So really, it’s not his fault that there’s several goonion (honestly Sam will be pleased to learn they’ve got a union) members who are now constantly coming to the bakery. And- okay is that another undead person? Have a cupcake. 

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #10: Inter-Dimensional Bake-Off

Alfred was checking the mail the manor had received that day when he found it. In between bills, fan mail, and company missives was a regal purple envelope addressed to one Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth. Intrigued, Alfred set aside the rest of the mail and sat to open the letter.

Inside was a high quality cardstock invitation of a metallic silver color decorated with luxurious midnight green script. It declared on the front:

“You Are Cordially Invited”

Alfred raised an eyebrow and flipped open card.

Dear, Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth You have been cordially invited to participate in the first annual inter-dimensional bake-off to celebrate the coronation of the young, King Phantom, age 21, Ruler of the Infinite Realms, the Great One, Protector of Souls, Keeper of Peace, The Perfect Balance, The Infinite King, Ancient of Space and Reality. We have discerned that you are among the top 25 bakers in the 11 most stable and prominent dimensions with an open connection to the Infinite Realms. Thus, we would like to offer you the opportunity to show off and test your skills against talented competitors. Should you accept, all transport, accommodation, amenities, materials, and potentially needed medical care shall be provided by the King and his court. If you would like to bring any specific ingredients or tools you are welcome to file a request for them when you arrive and they shall be summoned to you at the start of the competition. You are allowed one plus one either as an assistant or moral support. Should you have any questions please write them down and place them on the sigil on the next page and recite the incantation bellow: “bonvolu respondi mian demandon” The event shall occur in a fortnight upon the weekend before the kings official coronation ceremony. In order to confirm your participation in the competition please burn this letter with one of your most recently made baked goods. In order to decline simply dissolve this message under running water. Please confirm your attendance or absence within a week’s time. Kind Regards, the Council of Ancients Advisors to the Good King Phantom

Well, it seemed like Alfred had earned a place in a rather prestigious event. ‘It seems a finally have a reason to make use of all those vacation days Master Bruce keeps insisting I must utilize.’ He smiled to himself, tucking the letter into his pocket. ‘I wonder if Master Jason would be amicable to accompanying me for a weekend of baking in a magical dimension?’

~ Just in case anyone has trouble reading the letter:

Dear, Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth You have been cordially invited to participate in the first annual inter-dimensional bake-off to celebrate the coronation of the young, King Phantom, age 21, Ruler of the Infinite Realms, the Great One, Protector of Souls, Keeper of Peace, The Perfect Balance, The Infinite King, Ancient of Space and Reality. We have discerned that you are among the top 25 bakers in the 11 most stable and prominent dimensions with an open connection to the Infinite Realms. Thus, we would like to offer you the opportunity to show off and test your skills against talented competitors. Should you accept, all transport, accommodation, amenities, materials, and any potentially needed medical care shall be provided by the King and his court. If you would like to bring any specific ingredients or tools you are welcome to file a request for them when you arrive and they shall be summoned to you at the start of the competition. You are allowed one plus one either as an assistant or moral support. Should you have any questions please write them down and place them on the sigil on the next page and recite the incantation bellow: “bonvolu respondi mian demandon” The event shall occur in a fortnight upon the weekend before the kings official coronation ceremony. In order to confirm your participation in the competition please burn this letter with one of your most recently made baked goods. In order to decline simply dissolve this message under running water. Please confirm your attendance or absence within a week’s time. Kind Regards, the Council of Ancients Advisors to the Good King Phantom

The Esperanto translates to “please answer my question"

Edit: now with possible contestants

[verocitea]

*insert a fun and witty autumn related caption here*

[ggoyangie]

you never thought that grocery shopping with suguru would be so enjoyable. almost therapeutic, even.

you were put on a lockdown by nanako and mimiko when you passively mentioned to suguru about attending baking classes (they weren't eavesdropping, they said.) which then lead to showing the twins the pictures of your baked goods. promised their own cupcakes, you've never seen them so ecstatic.

that's what lead you to your current situation. suguru offered to buy the ingredients - as it is for his girls. he also suggested to upgrade your 'gift' to them, aka make a cake for their upcoming birthday.

in your visit in the baking supply store with suguru, he made sure to give you all the liberty to wander around the store, to brainstorm about what you think is the perfect arrangement for the girls while also considering the flavor they wanted to have: strawberries and cream.

suguru is patient. (he always has been.) he didn't mind if you go back to an aisle even though you've just been there because you forgot something. you kept apologizing to him but he keeps taking none of it. he says he understands. (he always does.)

sometimes it makes you wonder if he put a spell on you on how easy it is for him to get you to take it easy. but you know it's just in his nature to be so . . . warm, so tender.

by the end of your short trip, you saw the cart brimming and you can't help but feel bad - almost - suguru was one step ahead, though. giving you a reassuring smile when your eyes meet while the both of you were in line, he pats your head gently before distracting you from your thoughts by asking, "would it be alright to help you out in the kitchen?"

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Phantom/Star Wars Crossover

I don't know enough of Star Wars to do a fic of it justice (I've yet to watch all of the movies and it has a lot of worldbuilding stuff that stresses me out) but I did have ideas if anyone wanted to (please, please, please) write it. As always, if there are fics with these plot points... gimme. Pls.

Possible Plots:

Danny Phantom is the Force and did not like the balance being disrupted at all.

Danny Phantom's core is found/used to power a Death Star. He is not happy about it.

Danny's ice core is a kyber crystal (he isn't, but the jedi who has him as part of their saber gets a sassy light saber judging all of their decisions)

Danny Phantom is to Master Yoda what Qui-Gon was to Anakin. Except for Danny doesn't, like, permanently die.

The obvious: Danny as a Force Ghost

Possible Sub-Plots:

Dani as the light side of the Force vs. Dan, the dark side of the force, and Danny, the Force who's stuck between his unruly siblings and trying to keep the universe from exploding.

Force Ghost Danny is also a padawan in his free time. He spends his haunting hours trolling Yoda.

Grandpa Jedi Danny taught Yoda to yeet himself (with skill) and they both have a day of playing jedi pin ball.

[kyyuuuy]

au where L dies of salmonella from consuming too much raw cookie dough

[steveseddie]

sweet as pumpkin pie

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin” 

read on ao3

Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise. 

Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder. 

So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–

“Dustin?”  

“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.

His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?” 

“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral. 

He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap. 

“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.

“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”

“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.

“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”

“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”

“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty. 

“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!” 

Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”

Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”

“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”

“I need you to bake me something, duh.”

Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”

Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”

“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“It’s the same thing!”

Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”

“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”

“I can do it.”

Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?” 

“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid. 

Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?” 

“Yup.”

Steve finds himself asking, “How?” 

Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”

Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing. 

“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”

“Uh, pumpkin?”

Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”

“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.

“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”

“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.

“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.” 

Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”

Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”

Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van. 

He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.

“Wait– we?”

***

Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need. 

Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”

“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape. 

Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead. 

“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix. 

Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust. 

Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.

And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it. 

Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna. 

Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him. 

For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–

He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.

Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.” 

“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them. 

“Where’s Henderson?”

“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door. 

“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”

Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”

The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together. 

Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck. 

Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”

“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.

From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?” 

Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing. 

***

Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust. 

Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”

“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s. 

Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin. 

“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it. 

“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead. 

Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time. 

“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter. 

Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips. 

And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen. 

“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. 

Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two. 

Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. 

Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.

“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven. 

“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long. 

His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room. 

***

“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”

Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”

“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly. 

“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”

Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course, buddy.”

“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder. 

“You better.”

With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts. 

And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back. 

He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here. 

He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!” 

Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”

He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it. 

Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve. 

Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”

Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks. 

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”

Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”

Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. 

“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow. 

He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–

But then he hesitates.

His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him. 

Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips. 

He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside. 

He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.

It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie. 

They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other. 

Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?” 

“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine. 

“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together. 

Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try. 

[roses-and-revolutions]

Not Blue, Black

Everyone always assumes that Danny's eyes are blue. He’s shown pictures of his family before and his dad’s eyes are blue, and so are his twin brother’s and his daughter’s, and his big sister’s. So his must be too! Well, his mom seemed to have this weird purple thing going on so no one was too sure. And no one seemed to care either way, especially not Danny. Besides, why would anyone care about eye color when they had such an amazing young man working alongside them?

Danny was the perfect intern. He’s always on time, never giving trouble, always giving helpful suggestions, and good at not only his job but everyone else’s too, making it handy to have him around the office. He was also the workplace hottie, with many guys and girls hovering around him, desperately trying to make him theirs despite him announcing himself happily married the first day he got here. (Everyone knew who his husband and wife were since he couldn’t help but show them off every chance he got. Everyone knows they’ve got no chance, but one can dream.)

He also seems to light up just about whatever room he happens to be in. Just his presence alone made even their shittiest days in the office seem like just tiny inconveniences in the eyes of the universe. Unless he himself was pissed, which didn’t happen too often. But when he was, everyone felt it and knew to avoid him like the plague. But, other than that, Danny was an all-around good guy and was for sure going to get the job after he graduated from Gotham U. 

You, on the other hand, weren’t too sure about your position in the company, as you were Danny’s antithesis, everything he was not. You were always late for reasons no one cared to understand. Just about every issue in the office was pinned on you whether you were involved or not. You couldn’t ever think about helpful suggestions and just rode off the backs of others. And compared to everyone else's good looks, you were the workplace monster. 

You had a scar on your face and body you got as a kid. You got it in an accident and it deformed your right side quite a bit. It was challenging to adjust to yes, but over time you learned to live with and accept it. Others not so much. The stares you got almost daily, from everyone in the office to school, even random strangers on the street. All of them made you feel scared and sick. Like you wanted to dig off your skin and rip off your flesh and replace it all with something newer, better, more normal. But you couldn’t and had to live like this for the rest of your life. You had to live with the stares for the rest of your life.

Your only saving grace was this job, the one you were assigned to when you first got the internship. You were awful at it at first, resulting in many scoldings from the manager. But throughout the year you were here at this company, you dedicated your time and effort to be good at at least this one thing. And now you were proud to say that you were damn good at it. The best even! So good in fact that everyone decided that they would drop their workload onto you and let you handle it even if it meant extremely late nights at the office.

And that’s how you got to be here, on the company roof at 1 a.m., debating whether or not going home to actually sleep and eat would be worth the scolding you would get from the manager when you arrive to work ‘late’ again..., among other things.

You know having these kinds of thoughts was bad for your mental health (your therapist grilled it into you every time you even mentioned them to her), but it was freeing in a sick sort of way every time you thought of each scenario that could play out if you just-

“Hey!”

Jumping back to your senses, you turned around and saw none other than Danny Fenton standing right behind you. You two were never all that close in proximity before now so you only knew that he was big. You weren’t expecting the absolute unit that was standing behind you. You knew you were short but having to crane your neck to look at his face only put shit into perspective.

“Another late night?”

You only nod dumbly as he moves from behind to stand next to you, looking down at the bustling city below. A deep sigh came from him as he pulled a candy from his back pocket and popped it into his mouth. He was always eating candy. Did he have low blood sugar or just a sweet tooth?

“Same. It’s like we can never go home, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Mr. Perfect’s suffering just a bit until you realized what he meant. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Come on Fenton, just because you’ve done a few late nights doesn’t mean you ‘never get to go home’.”

You settled next to him, also looking down on the city as well. He was on his phone now, the blue light illuminating his features.

“She really never sleeps does she?”  He says laughing to himself.

You were kinda pissed off now. Who was he, Mr. Perfect Intern, Daniel Fenton, to compare his suffering to yours? You practically lived at this job now, once you weren’t busy with school or something else! You even bet that after this he’s gonna go home to his nice apartment and be met by a wrapped-up dinner on the table made by either his husband or wife. (HE HAS A FREAKING HUSBAND AND WIFE FOR FUCKS SAKE!) He was probably talking about his little girl just now, and how she’s up waiting for him. Maybe she was half asleep on the couch with the TV on since she was so determined to see her Dad come home. It’s Friday after all of course she’d get to stay up way past her bedtime. He’s gonna get a hot bath and wash off dirt and grim of work, and-

Danny’s laugh was low and deep, rumbling through the air, sending chills down your spine. He turned to you and smiled his pearly whites glimmer-  Wait were those fangs?

“Dude you know you mumble out loud��� right?”

There was silence between you two until a bright red crept up your neck, and ever so slowly engulfed your face. Shame flooded your entire being as you cradled your face in your hands. You sighed, feeling like more air wanted to come out but your very human lungs were empty and in need of oxygen. So sucking in a breath, you looked him in the face (why can't you see his eyes?). He was still smiling, his fangs (he has freaking fangs how had you never noticed before!) poking his bottom lips making little dimples.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve been stuck here for three days doing everyone else's work. I haven’t slept or eaten or taken a shower. I-”

“I know, I know. You’ve been busting your ass for a while now so of course you’d be grumpy.”

You don’t think grumpy is the word you’d use but it was close enough. 

“So how long have you been here Fenton?”

“A week.” He replied cooly, popping yet another sweet in his mouth. (Okay he needed to stop, at this rate, diabetes would be the next one to put a ring on his finger) But you were surprised nonetheless.

You’re sure you would’ve noticed if he was here for the entire week. He must have been playing games with you.

“Am not.”

Okay, you needed to stop thinking out loud.

“Look, just trust and believe that if I didn’t want you to notice me, you wouldn’t have. But I did so…” He shrugged and looked off into the distance once more.

You think that what he said is impossible, everyone notices Danny Fenton. But the office was pretty small compared to bigger companies. And if he really was there for the entire week you should have noticed him at some point of the three days you were here. You didn’t hear him coming up behind you a few moments ago either. So maybe there is some merit to his words.

“What’s got you here for so long anyways Fenton?”

He sighed, his face looking more tired than before. 

“You know the project that my group has, the one we got two months ago?” You nod and he continues, 

“Well, it was fine at first. Everyone was pulling their weight, excited to get it done. But then it started, again, with ‘Hey Danny, I’ve got something important to do this afternoon, can you finish this for me?’. Then, ‘Danny I'm not coming in today, do this for me? Thanks!’. And ‘Hey, Danny’s good at this let him do it!’. ‘Danny I need help! Wait no…, I actually meant that I want you to do this for me.’ 

Danny’ll do this, Danny can do that, don’t worry Danny’s on it! Danny, you’ll finish the project… right?

That along with the other workloads that are trusted upon me by the managers and other employees, ON TOP OF MY OWN ASSINGED WORK!”

By the time he was done, you had already recognized that voice all too well. Danny was struggling, right on the edge of his line, using the shirt on his back the make just a little more. Danny was breaking and just barely holding it together, just like you were. You never realized it before, but you notice now that, Danny’s fucking tired. Just like you.

A wet laugh broke your train of thought. His face was a bit wet, his eyes (?) red from held-back tears.

“People think that I’ve got no flaws-” A pang of guilt shoots through you as you were one of those people, “- but I do. Metric shit ton in fact. One of them is that I can’t help but to help people, even if it’s detrimental to myself. And if my sister finds out about this she’s gonna slap me upside and force me to stay home for a month!”

Another laugh rang through the air, sounding just a bit too crazy for your liking. Even so, you couldn’t help but wonder, you just needed to ask-

“Why are you telling me this?”

His laughter stopped and he turned to look at you. Like really look at you. You realize that Danny’s eyes weren’t blue like you and everyone else were assuming. His eyes were black. So black. Blacker than the night sky and deeper than any ocean. And within those oceans swam thousands of bright lights, each burning 10x brighter than the earth’s own sun! Yet they could never shine through that great abyss. It was beautiful. Danny’s eyes were so beautiful. 

“Because I’m gonna quit.”

“What?” Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“Yeah, I’m going to quit. And as your good friend-” Good friend? Since when!? “-I’m going to advise you to quit as well! I predict that this shabby ass company is gonna collapse in a few months and I DO NOT want to be there for that shit show, doubt you want to be there either.”

You feel conflicted. This is the first time that you and Danny Fenton have actually spoken to each other and after basically trauma dumping on you he tells you to quit! This has to be a prank! Some sick twisted joke!

“It’s not.”

CURSE YOUR BLOODY LIPS!

Danny smiled. He looked noticeably less human now that you could see fangs and eyes, and were his ears always pointy? Dear lord is he a part of the Fae!?

“Close but not quite.” 

At this point, you were pretty sure you weren’t speaking out loud and he was just straight-up reading your mind. He handed you a piece of paper and clasped his hand over yours.

“Just think about it ok? The first one is my number, so just call when you need a friend to talk to. The second is my brother’s, he thinks you’re cute.”

“What?” You look up only to see him gone as if he was never there. Looking back down you expect to see the paper gone too. But it was still there, the flirtatious message next to the second number making the tips of your ears turn red. Once again you remember that, Danny if a fucking giant, one who was now gone without a trace…

“What have I gotten myself into?”

You decided to quit the next day.

Three months later the company ends up in a scandal so bad, that even the bats are investigating it.

You decide to give Danny a call.

All I wanted to do was write a prompt about Danny's eyes... The fuck!?!?!?

[moodyseal]

TOApril Day 6 - Hair Holds Memories

Meg's hair is one of my favourite characteristics of hers because its growth is so intrinsically tied to her freedom of choice and the memories of her loved ones. I'll never forgive Nero for taking that freedom away from her 😭

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 239

Y'know what I think would be hilarious for a DP and PJO crossover? Percy & co finally getting to Kronos, straight up ready for anything after they pass through magic and portal of green and-

There's the smell of cookies. Freshly baked cookies, a warm oven, something about it reminding them of home in this strange place of floating gears and ticking clocks.

And there's a long, serpentine tail twisting through the gears, twisting up and down and across in a size that could hides yet reveals just how large this entity is. There's power soaking into every inch of this place, every centimeter nearly sending lightning up their legs with each step.

The ticking is getting stronger, a distant gonging of the hour echoing through a place that should feel cold and empty like the ringing of bells in the end of times.

And suddenly there's a kid- a teen like them, human yet not- with a cookie half in their mouth and hair flickering like the cosmos as they peer down from above them with a frown, eyes brighter than the sun yet darker than the moon.

"Oh great, what did my half-siblings do this Time?"

[starppleb]

Amity Park lived through a horrible event. Young Danny Fenton died due to a horrendous accident.

That was a big hit for the city; nobody died in a long time from ghost-related events, but now the son of leading ecto-scientists may rest in peace after a ghost attack in which GIW was taking an active defensive role. (They messed with something they shouldn't have) 

GIW, aka Ghost Investigation Ward, is suspended from any activity while the Anti-Ecto law is being revisited. (Thanks to all of the complaints) 

Fentons released new studies. And one of them discovered that ecto-weapons could harm humans, especially Amity Parkers. (That’s what long exposure to ectoplasm can do) 

Anti-Ecto law was revisited and updated. (Much better) 

Ghost Boy, aka Phantom, didn’t reappear after the accident. 

Some say he’s too devastated after the death of Danny Fenton, while others say they saw him get hurt in the accident. (He isn’t around anymore) 

Ghosts attacked again. (But nobody came) 

Justice League will visit Amity Park after the last news and will provide help until everything is settled. (Where they were before) 

Such a tragedy for a hero society…