#and you put it in milk you warmed over the stove. its great.

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 3

🌹 Uncle Rosie 🌹

read previous part here

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @archival-hogwash

“Goodnight, you two!” you say as you watch your friends leave the room, Harry's arm wrapped around his wife. The look on their faces as they realize they get to share a bed for the first time in weeks because you're there to help sends a warm glow through your body. Happy to be here, yet missing home, you decide to call your Ma before it gets too late. The baby is dozing softly in the bassinet next to Croz's armchair and you tiptoe out of the room to ensure he isn't woken.

Dialing the number on the phone in the hall, you wait patiently.

“Rosenthal residence,” a voice says.

“Ma,” you reply, happy to hear her. “It's me. Just wanted to let you know I got here safe.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear it, Robbie. How are the Crosbys?”

“Oh, they're great, Ma. Being excellent parents just like I knew they would be. I'm helping em out tonight, making sure they get a good rest together.”

“That's wonderful, son. I'm glad you're there to help.”

“Me, too. Now, Ma,” you begin nervously. “If the baby wakes up…what do I do?”

“Robert,” she sighs, instantly exasperated. “Did you make your poor, dear friends think you had it handled?” You pause, nervous to respond.

“Y-yes,” you finally stutter out. “But they need their rest and I couldn't leave them exhausted like that and I–”

“Son, it's easy. Change the diaper, heat the milk.”

“R-right…easy,” you pause again, shifting from one foot to the other. “How do I heat it?”

“Leave it in the bottle and put that in a pot of boiling water on the stove. Keep an eye on it. Not too hot, you don't want to burn the little fella's mouth, now. You'll be fine. It'll be good practice for you when your time comes with Josephine.”

At the mention of her name, you hear a cheeky cackle in the background. You smile at the sound, your heart suddenly beating ten to the dozen at the thought of her beautiful smile, how her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs at one of your terrible jokes. 

“Did she come for dinner?”

“Yes, son. She's spending the night, too. Nobody to take her home and I don't want her getting a cab at this hour.”

“That's sweet, Ma. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Hold on just a minute…” there's a pause on the other end of the line until you hear your mother attempting to whisper.

“He's with the baby…yes, he seems to be in over his head,” you hear her laugh.

“Ma!” you shout over the line, eyes squeezed shut. “Don't tell her!” With that, the baby begins to wail from the next room and you sigh. “Ma, I have to go. The baby.”

“Good luck, Robbie. Josephine sends her love.”

“And I send it right back. G'night.”

Placing the phone into its cradle, you rush along the padded carpet to tend to the baby. 

“Hey, hey buddy,” you say as you reach him, hands going to lift him from his bed. “How's it goin’?” You coo, hoping you're able to calm him easily. Stroking his head with your gentle hand, he seems to relax instantly. “Huh,” you say, carrying on the movement. “Piece of cake.” 

Not quite asleep yet, you carry the baby in your arms over to the record player. Flipping through the Crosby record collection with your free hand, you find one that catches your eye. “Now this,” you murmur to the small child in your arms, his big brown eyes - exactly like his father's - gazing up at you as you place the record on the player one-handed, “is good jazz, little Croz.” 

The sounds of Artie Shaw softly blare through the room, you sitting down in the armchair. 

“Did you know,” you begin, looking at the baby's sweet face. “Now, I dunno if your Pop told you this yet. But there was a mission where me and my crew were completely alone. I don't mind telling ya, kid, I was petrified - who are you gonna tell, after all?” You muse on that for a moment. “Okay, maybe you'll tell your father, but that's fine by me. Anyway, completely alone, nothing but blue sky in front of me and my co-pilot. All I could think to do was to hum along to this.” You carry on telling the story as the music swells, rambling on about how all you could think of was getting back to base in one piece, being able to be back home for your Ma and your sweet Josephine. 

“That's Aunt Jo, by the way, kid. The second I marry her, I'm bringing her to see you. She's dying to see you, pal, and your sweet mama. So was I. We best buddies now? What d'ya say? Uncle Rosie pass the test?” At that final sentence, the baby's eyes close and he's softly snoring on you, his head burrowing into your chest. You feel your heart swell, tears suddenly pricking your eyes. You think back to that New Year during the war, where you'd written to Josephine, promising her the world, whatever she chose. Holding your friend's sleeping infant in your arms makes you realize that you want life to look like this with her.

You lay the baby down in his bassinet, the music softly playing in the corner of the room helping to soothe him, and you make your way back to the telephone. Dialing the number for home, you wait as the line rings. 

Hello?” A voice, thick with tiredness and hoarse from laughter. “Robbie?”

"Darling,” you breathe out, the sound of her sweet voice almost making you fall to your knees. Composing yourself, you carry on. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“How's our nephew?” she coos, her voice up an octave. 

“He's fine, my love. Has eyes just like his Papa. Hair like his Mother. Angelic face just like his Aunt Jo.”

"Oh, stop,” she teases. “How did you get on in the end? Your ma said you sounded quite panicked.”

“It was fine. Pretty easy, actually.” You take a deep breath in, preparing yourself for what you're about to say next. “I just wanted to reiterate what I meant in that letter, that new year. Being here has made me realize it more. Jo, I want to give you everything. A family, a herd of kids. Anything you want.”

“Darling…” she murmurs. “Then hurry up and marry me. I'm impatient.” You laugh, switching the phone to your other ear. 

“Besides,” she carries on. “Judging by your panic, I think we should wait a little longer to talk about having kids.”

You sigh, playfully. “But we can still practice making ‘em, right?”

“Robert, your mother is stood right next to me.”

“Oh–uh…uh oh.” Luckily, you hear your sweetheart giggle as she struggles to come back to normal.

“I love you, darling,” she whispers. “Goodnight.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I'll be dreaming of you.” 

“And me. Bye, Robbie.”

The phone clicks as you hear a tiny cry from the living room, the record having ended. Putting the phone back in its place, you walk back to the room, excited to share more anecdotes with your new best friend. 

thank you to @ginabaker1666 and @sagesolsticewrites for reading this over and over to make sure it was PERFECT 🥰

masterlist

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #rosie rosenthal #harry crosby #jean crosby #its been a long long time #winnie writes #rosie rosenthal x oc

[lumosinlove]

Day Five:

On the fifth day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, a local farm/Christmas Tree Co. Lelo AU.

Heartcliff Farm was a creature of the summer mostly. It made its ends meet with strawberry and blueberry picking and cut-your-own flowers in the fields. The farm shop housed great, plump tomatoes in June and July. Fresh butter and milk. Buttery, sweet corn in August. Leo and his mother’s own baked goods—using our own eggs and fresh milk from just a few hops and skips away! The lake was near by, after all, and all the second-homers came up for the summer, or at least the Forth of July and a few vacation weeks later on. Leo’s family lived in town. He had never actually been to the lake—it was all houses, no public beaches—but he’d been working at Heartcliff his entire life, and he’d mastered talking to the Lakers as if he, too, was their kind of “regular.” That’s what they asked each other. Are you a regular? And, for Leo and his fellow employees, Are you a local? Local verses Regular—who could say which was better.

But everyone was friendly, and Leo liked to see how his smile worked wonders on them. Most of them knew him by name, and he, them. You wouldn’t believe the tomatoes this year, Mrs. Walker. Oh, Leo, is that some of your banana bread? I don’t know where you find the time to do all that baking for us!

It was a well-worn routine. And there was hardly ever anyone new, but Leo didn’t mind. He missed home terribly when he was away at Gryffindor University, which seemed to be nothing but new people, and no one who cared about this place. No one who cared that he loved it, that he loved baking, that he loved anything. Either he talked too much or was too shy. He hadn’t yet been able to find the sweet-spot, the one all the people at Heartcliff responded to. The one that felt easy, here. It felt like the most difficult thing in the world, there.

But, like any summer, winter always came—but Leo found the good parts. The parts so perfect that they warmed him through and through. Skiing, the Gingerbread house competition at the local library (him or Mrs. Hollyway nearly always won). The fires that his father built in their great fireplace. Baking cookies, and more cookies.

And, of course, the transformation of Heartcliff farm. The summer tomatoes, the sweetcorn and fresh bread, the flower and strawberry picking…all of that was scurried away and swapped out as if Christmas elves had come in the night. Evergreen garlands were strung along the farm shop’s doorways and roof. The wood burning stove was an ever-present smolder in the corner. The library’s sewing and knitting club made ornaments to be sold, some of the profits going to the local charities. Red-faced skiers coming in freezing and hoping for some of their (well, Leo thought it was famous) hot chocolate and home-made marshmallows.

Best of all…

Well. Leo’s throat closed up a little, cheeks flushing as bright as the skiers (only not from the cold) when he thought of the best part of all. To anyone else, he’d say the best part was the Christmas tree farm they put out front of the shop, stringing lights up above to glisten down on the falling snow. The best part was how cozy it looked, how happy the children were when they found that there was hot chocolate and candy canes to be had while they hunted for the perfect tree. The best part was the amount of snow that fell, and how perfect it all looked. The best part was strolling around with his parents to pick out their own tree, too. Those were the best parts. They really were.

But secretly, quietly, only to himself…For Leo, the best part of winter, was Logan.

Logan, who was like a myth that came down from the mountains each year.

“I know that look.”

Leo looked up at his mother over the sound of the electric mixer. She was at the counter, opening a fresh pile of delivered Christmas cards.

“Hm?” Leo asked.

Eloise smiled. “And that smell.”

Leo tried to will the redness out of his cheeks that had sprung up like it was eager or something. “Hm?”

Eloise laughed. “Hm?” She parroted. “Hmm, I just wonder who you’re making ginger cakes for.”

“Mama…”

His father came in from a fresh shoveling of their front walk. Wyatt banged his boots clean outside before shutting out the cold air again. “What’s with that mama? What’d I miss?”

“Well,” Eloise said, watching her husband take off his coat and hang up his hat. “Who could possibly be coming today that Leo would be making ginger cakes for?”

“Well, there’s only one lucky chap I can think of.”

Leo turned the mixer off and laughed. “Dad. Guys, no.”

“Could be it be a certain mountain man?”

“Oh my God, he’s not a mountain man,” Leo said, sprinkling flower into the buttered up, small bunt cake molds. “He’s—he’s just—Well, he doesn’t have a beard, first of all—Second—I’m not making them for him, these are for the shop. It’s a big ski weekend, and everyone’s getting their trees right now, with Thanksgiving over with. I’m—You know, you know what, I didn’t even remember they were coming down with fresh trees today.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, totally forgot?”

“So, you’re making the ginger cakes for me, then?” Wyatt smiled. “And I could take a few over to book club later?”

“Sure.” Leo said, and rolled his eyes at his dad’s laugh. They really weren’t all for Logan.  It was only that Leo wanted something that might make Logan give him one of those gentle, almost shy smiles of his. Now, if only they would bake properly. Logan and the others wouldn’t be here for an hour, so he did have time. And the cakes would be hot for Logan that way—well, for anyone, but—but Logan liked them the most. Logan had a sweet tooth. Oh, Leo hoped they had enough hot chocolate, because then maybe Logan would keep coming inside for breaks and—and if no one else was in the shop maybe they could just talk a little more. A little more than usual.

“Okay.” Leo turned away to slide the cakes into the waiting oven. “I am ignoring these questions and I’m going to read until these are done.” If he could focus. “And then I am going over to the farm to start the wood burning stove. I have my timer on. Don’t open that oven door.”

Eloise winked at him over her mug of tea. “Yes, sir. Oh, and while you’re starting to stove, make sure you’re definitely not waiting for a glimpse of a certain truck or anything.”

It was still snowing lightly when Leo closed the front door behind him, covered plate of ginger cakes in hand. The weather channel had promised it would get heavier throughout the day. It’d be a full on white Christmas for sure, and the skiers would all be out today. He smiled when he saw the farm, so warm looking in the building snow on the ground and roof. The lot waiting for more Christmas trees looked like it would be its own forest, right there on the outskirts of town. He fumbled with his gloves getting the key in the door. The heat was on, making him shiver as the warmth hit him, but the stove was what completed the scene. Leo hung up his coat and hat in the back room before kneeling in front of the stove and opening the small glass door. He piled the wood in, crinkled up the kindling, and struck a match. The warmth flooded out, and Leo filled the iron basin on top with water to evaporate into the air.

He almost loved opening the shop more than running it. He loved starting up the hot chocolate, thick and not too sweet, setting out the bowls of crushed candy canes and marshmallows. At the beginning of the season, he loved stringing up the lights, the red bows above the displays, and the secret sprouts of mistletoe over the doorways. The jingle bells that replaced the usual cowbell above the entrance, alerting them to someone entering the shop. He loved watching people’s faces light up.

Leo was carefully setting his ginger cakes out on the snowman display pedestal when the door opened again, revealing his dad with three big coils of twine over his shoulders.

“I’m really not allowed to eat one of those?” he asked.

“Nope.” Leo put the glass dome over them. “Not until Logan has his pick.”

Wyatt laughed. “You ever gonna talk to this kid when it’s not Christmas?”

Leo didn’t look up from fitting some small lights around the display’s base. “If I was ever going to work up the courage to ask, I would no longer recognize myself.”

“Aw, Le. Come on, I’m sure you could. Even if its just as a friend, at first. Logan seems like a good kid. Better than that boy you said you were ‘maybe’ seeing at school. What’s his name?”

Leo just raised a shoulder and turned to check on the hot chocolate. He didn’t really want to talk about Jack right now. Jack who had refused to come home with Leo for Christmas to his middle-of-no where-town. Babe, why would I when you could just come to the city?

“Logan probably has more than enough friends,” Leo said.

His dad came around to the back of the counter, making Leo look up at him. “That’s not really how friends works, hun.”

“Well.” Leo sighed, gave his head a shake. “Dad, I don’t know.”

“All right, all right.” Wyatt held up his hands. “But at least we’ll have enough Christmas tree twine, right?”

That made Leo crack a smile. “Right. Did Pascal say who he was bringing on the phone?”

“Logan, Noelle, Sergei.”

“Oh, I love Sergei. He always has the best stories.”

His dad laughed. “True. That man has lived five lives, I swear to God. Best way to be, though.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty happy with my life.”

“Oh—” Wyatt gave him a playful scuff on the head. “You know what I meant.”

Leo’s reply was lost to him as soon as he heard a tell-tale rumbling from the road. He couldn’t help the way his head snapped towards the window, only to find a sight that looked a great deal like an old-time Christmas card. The red truck bumbling towards them with its bright green trees strapped to the back, the whole scene covered in fresh white snow. Leo watched them pull up, could hear some sort of French rap song coming from the cab. The truck stuttered to a stop, tires crunching over the snow, and the song cut off.

“Allez,” he heard—Pascal Dumais’ voice, owner of the farm. He said something faster that Leo didn’t catch—and he had been trying his best to learn from the French courses he was taking (no, it wasn’t for Logan, you had to take a language credit…it wasn’t just for Logan)—but all he caught now was Logan’s name. It was followed directly by Logan himself jumping down from the truck, wearing a dark green puffer jacket and a black beanie, also those thick, worn work boots that Leo sometimes imagined sitting, unlaced, by the front door of his shared house at college. They were tan, and scuffed, and made Logan’s strong legs look even stronger. If Leo ever found out what he looked like without those bulky jackets, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He was watching Logan and Noelle shove each other as they got some supplies from the truck, when his father cleared his throat. “You gonna go say hello?”

“Um.” Leo realized his voice was pitched up. “They always come inside when they first arrive.”

But when Leo heard the bells above the door jingle, and Pascal heartily greeting his father, Leo clammed up. He turned to the side, pretending to mess with the cash register, just for something to do with his hands. But he saw Logan out of the corner of his eye. He saw the way he stopped messing with Noelle, who had pointed out the mistletoe almost instantly and given Logan a smacking kiss on the cheek as they walked in, wiped those boots off politely, and—was he looking at Leo? Or the shop. The shop. Because they had done a wonderful job, it was cozy, and warm, and festive—

“Salut, Leo.” Logan said softly.

Leo took a breath and finally looked up. Green eyes. Green eyes he dreamed about. Logan offered him one of his quiet smiles as he set his gloves on the counter.

“Hi,” he said again, as if Leo hadn’t gotten the French.

“Hi,” Leo breathed, then cleared his throat. “Hi. How are you?”

Logan shrugged. “Good. Same. Did you just get home from college? I saw a bunch of others who look like they’re on break.”

Leo nodded. “Yeah, about a week and a half ago.”

Noelle raised her eyes towards the room. “Doesn’t look like you’re taking much of a rest.”

Leo laughed, smiling at her. “Yeah. I’m not very good at those.”

“I am,” Logan mimed a shiver. “I’d stay in here all day rather than get up at four because someone forgot to do her farm chores.” He sent a pointed look at Noelle.

“Hey!” Noelle didn’t look up from where she was making herself a hot chocolate. “They were yours.”

“Non.”

“Oh-kay,” Pascal laughed. “We’re all nice and warm now, let’s unload.” He sent Leo a smile. “Nice to see you, Leo.” He pushed through the door again, followed by Wyatt and Noelle.

“Same, Pascal.” He looked back at Logan. “Well.” He looked down at the ginger cakes, then motioned to the chocolate. “This’ll be here if you want to get warm again.”

“Will you?” Logan asked.

Leo flushed. He hoped he could blame it on the wood-burning stove heating up the place. “Mhm. Sure will.”

“Good.” Logan began to step back. “D’accord—oop—” He’d bumped not one of the smaller trees they displayed ornaments on. This one was full of jingle bells and there was an almost comical chorus of rings and Logan reached out to steady it. “Ha, okay, I obviously belong outside.”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh, lowering his hand from where he’d covered his mouth. “I guess. Wait, here, you forgot your gloves.”

“Oh,” Logan nearly tripped over his feet coming forward again to grab them. “Merde, okay. Merci.”

And with that he was out the door, leaving Logan staring after him.

It took a couple hours to unload everything, get the new trees in the ground or stands, restring the lights, and then it was time for the customers to come—leaving Logan and Leo both busy and, frustratingly, apart. Between ringing up tree tickets, Leo snuck glances outside at Logan—hauling trees through the netter, hoisting them onto car roofs, and—someone have mercy, please—yanking the chain saw to a start to saw off uneven trunk bottoms. Even from afar, it was good entertainment—especially when Logan got hot and shucked off his jacket in favor of a thermal undershirt in the hour the snow let up a bit. Leo huffed. If he had to watch two more girls from the local high school giggle over Logan, he was going to knock them into the jingle bell tree.

Finally, Logan said something to Noelle that Leo didn’t quite catch, but made a motion towards the shop like he was going inside. It practically made Leo jump, checking the hot chocolate, the ginger cakes, trying to look busy and available at once. He’d barely moved, though, when the bells were jingling above the store door and Logan was stepping through, nose and cheeks flushed.

“Hi,” Logan breathed, sniffing a bit from the cold. “Oh, so warm in here. Lucky.”

“Ha, yeah. Stay as long as you like.” He nodded outside. “We’re doing good though, huh? The trees are beautiful.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “More beautiful here, though.” Logan set his gloves down on the counter again, and then took off his hat. His chestnut hair was a mess, wild, and maybe a little sweaty at the temples. “Prettier with lights around them.”

Leo’s eyes darted to the lights around the store that seemed to halo Logan. “Uh-huh.”

Logan looked at him for another moment, fingers tapping on the counter, before he noticed the sweets. “Oh. Oh, I know these. You have made these every year, yes?”

“Mhm,” Leo smiled. “Yeah, I—they’re some of my favorite to make.” I make them for you. “You want one?”

“Ouais, please, please.” Logan said, then looked at the hot chocolate. “I can take some of that, too?”

“Of course.”

“Kind of a tradition?” Logan asked as Leo put a cake on a plate for him. “The making?”

“Yeah.” Leo took a breath, stealing himself. “Yeah, kind of like—like seeing you is.”

Logan’s eyes went back to his, and he looked surprised for a terrifying second, before he nodded. “Seeing you makes it feel like Christmas.”

Leo looked back at him sharply from where he was pouring the thick chocolate into one of the staff mugs—much better than a paper cup. He expected Logan to have just—said it. Maybe he would be looking at something else, eating the cake. But Logan was looking right at him.

“You too,” Leo said. “Really, I—yeah.” He pushed the hot chocolate forward. “You too, Logan.”

“Good,” Logan said simply, and without ceremony, proceeded to dump what Leo thought was probably just a little too much candy cane crumble into his cup. Leo couldn’t help but laugh.

“You kind of have a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

“Mmm,” was Logan’s only reply, eyes closing as he sipped the chocolate, then took a bite of the ginger cake. “Ouais, I love these so much. I dream about these, I think.”

Leo shook his head, snorting. “No way.”

Logan just nodded as he chewed.

Leo glanced out the window again and saw that Pascal was bringing the truck back around. “Oh.”

Logan looked up questioningly, just as Noelle opened the door, huffing.

“Lo, we’re packing up.”

Logan looked back at her. “Quoi? Wh…now?”

“Yep.” Noelle raised her eyebrows. “You helping, or…”

“Ouais, just—hold on, merde.” Logan waved her off, annoyed. “Be right there.”

Noelle rolled her eyes at Logan, smiled at Leo, and shut the door again. Logan looked back at Leo, lips parted as if trying to decide what to say. He leaned forward, then back, fingers drumming on the counter again. The shops Christmas music played softly between them, and Leo bit his tongue until he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

Leo sighed. “Well…” Do you want to exchange numbers? I’d love to keep in touch. Every version of the phrase either felt too flirty or too formal. “Hardly said hello before goodbye.” Hardly anything. How many days had he been waiting for this? Telling himself that maybe this year he’d—what? He felt stupid now. This was how it always went. Logan didn’t live that far away, but it was still a drive. And all Leo really knew was that he was kind, sweet, had pretty eyes, liked ice hockey as much as he did, wanted to run the farm rather than go to college. He loved his life, who was Leo to mess with that?

“Maybe—Leo…” Logan began to say, and God, did Leo love hearing his name in his voice, his accent. Logan laughed and rocked on his heels again. And then he was taking out his phone and holding it tentatively across the counter. “Maybe we don’t…wait a year to see each other again?”

There. Yes. Of course, Logan had said it perfectly. Leo was nodding before he realized it, before he could form proper words. “I—yeah.”

“Mhm?” Logan was nodding too. “Really? Good.”

“I’d really love that.” Leo said, and then realized he hadn’t taken the phone yet. “Oh—ha, here.”

He might have hated the way his hands shook a bit as he typed in his number, but at least Logan was still looking softly at him when he gave him back the phone.

“Okay,” Logan said, and they both heard Noelle shout his name again. Lo-gan. Logan took a few steps towards the door. “Okay, well—maybe some time this break, I’ll drive down myself or…or you can come see the farm, too, if you want. The goats are cute, they have little Christmas collars—well, anyway.”

“Yes. Either. Both. Absolutely.”

Logan grinned. “Okay. Good. Good.”

He’d only just made it out the door when Leo spied his gloves, left on the counter again. “Logan, wait!”

Logan all but threw himself back through the door, coming close to knocking over another display, his green eyes bright. “Yes. I mean, yes?”

Leo laughed. “Your gloves.”

Logan looked at them on the counter, then smiled. “Keep them. You can return them when we meet up.”

Leo bit at the inside of his cheek against his smile. “Okay.” He felt sheepish, and shy, and like something fiery and good was burning him up inside.

“Bye,” Logan said softly. “I’ll text.”

Leo could only nod. “Bye.”

As he watched the truck drive away, French music started up again, he couldn’t help himself. He went to walk through the remaining trees. He put on his coat and hat, shoved his own mittens into his coat pockets, and slipped on Logan’s gloves.

~

A Few Months Later

The weather was warming, and so Leo had his apartment’s windows thrown open, letting in the fresh Spring air. He hummed softly to himself as he packed up his school things—computer, charger, pens…oh, the book they were reading. He smiled when he heard the shower cut off from the bathroom off of his room, the slight humming louder without the pounding water surrounding it.

Things had never been this good. Almost graduating—just a few months away, really—another perfect summer at the shop waiting for him. Not to mention getting to spend half of his time at the Dumais’ farm because—

The bathroom door opened, releasing steam. Logan emerged, towel wrapped around his hips, another being scrubbed at his hair.

Logan. Logan, driving down some weekends to stay. Logan, kissing him stupid at night, and curling into his side to watch movies. Logan, and his clothes filling up a drawer in Leo’s dresser. Logan’s boots by the door.

“Headed to the library?” Logan asked when he saw Leo’s bag, and reached out to cup Leo’s cheek, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Yeah, got to meet my partner for this presentation—English Lit class. Might have him over some time. He’s funny, you’d like him.”

“Oh?” Logan asked. “What’s his name?”

Leo shouldered his bag, kissed Logan again, and opened the door. “Finn. See you for dinner, love you!”

#12 days of winterfic 2022 lumosinlove #lelo #Leo knut #Logan tremblay #Christmas tree farm #finn o'hara #o'knutzy

[yarrystyleeza]

Hot Cocoa (M.M)

Matt Murdock x female!reader

No warnings, fluff, a little mention of blood, but just adorable Matt and all.

Summary: a mid-October rainy day at home with Matt.

Word count: 1.5k!

Writer's note: this is my first time writing on Tumblr, so my style is kinda Wattpad-ish.

It was a mid-October afternoon, and the sky was heavily pouring on the orange and yellow leaves on the trees, rising up its scent to fill the atmosphere, giving the vibe of staying in bed all day and drink hot cocoa, no activities, no overpressure, just a hot drink and a book with sweet jazz music playing in the background.

You left the bed, after fighting the urge to stay under the warm heavy sheets, you walked up to the window and opened the curtains, the dim light hitting the ground to fill the room, after passing the yellow-stained glass, giving a warm effect on you, you stretched your body lifting your arms up in the cold still air, sending goosebumps all over your body. Pulling your feet on the wooden floor, you left the room to be met by the casting lights of the two big windows on your left, lighting the whole living room.

You made it to the counter, you didn't even want to wash the sleep off your eyes, you went out there to get your supplies of snacks and head back to bed. But eventually, you decided to make a hot cup of coffee, mocha is your favorite.

You emptied the instant espresso packet in your favorite large mug, as you already put the milk over the stove to heat up a little, you added a little amount of water — after sugar — to the mug and stirred it till it got foamy, then added the hot milk, and finished it with a couple of big fullspoons of chocolate cream, stirred it all well together, and went to the couch— holding your mug in one hand, and your favorite book you took from the counter —in the other.

You sat yourself down slowly, afraid to get the hot mocha over your lap and burn yourself, when you realized you could've just put it on the coffee table inches away from you, chuckling at yourself, you took a sip from your hot mocha.

The place looked a little bit messy, daredevil's suit was lying on the ground in front of the big closet — now on your left, the fists were a little bloody, so you exhaled in relief that it's not his blood, he came back late last night and you were too asleep to hear him, you didn't find his emergency kit in sight, so he didn't have a big fight, but it seems like he already made his way to the firm early, he had a day at the court today, and he gave that case all his blood and sweat, so you prayed he did well on it.

You stretched your back on the couch's as you took a sip from your mug, inhaling the chocolate's warm scent, and flipping on to the page you stopped at last night.

You were too focused on the book in your hand it almost sucked you out of your reality, you were brought back by the sound of your favorite breath filling the room, the thud of his stick thrown on the other couch.

– You were deeply sleeping this morning, I felt you were tired so I didn't disturb it.

He said as he sat next to you on the couch, untying the red tie around his collar, unbuttoned the first two buttons, greeting you with a quick soft kiss, the light coming out of the window casting on his face, his glasses flickered in the light as he took them off to gaze at you with his sight-less honey-green eyes, wearing a resting smile on his face, laugh-lines appearing on the sides of his eyes; the face of heaven to you.

– How was your day at the court, Mr Murdock?

You asked, as he held your left hand, playing with your wedding ring.

– It was great. How about yours, sweetheart? You canceled your plans at the office today?

– Yeah... I didn't really feel like leaving the house today.

– Well, glad you didn't, sweetheart, you can see the result on me right in front of your eyes.

He said with a breathy laugh —the way he always spoke when making fun of his decisions, he was soaked with water from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, looking like a puppy who took a shower after a long day of playing with mud. You slid your fingers between his dark red-brown hair, while the other hand caressed his slightly-bearded wet cheek. He kissed the palm of your hand, smiling into it.

– What were you reading?

He cuts the silence you made after you passionately stared at him for eternity, admiring the face of your blind husband, the way his manly features were only soft for you, even if he had the worst day.

– The book I told you about last week, it's actually interesting...

You said after a quick gasp for air, waking yourself up from clipping out of reality, back to look into his eyes with full consciousness, with a smile. He knows how still you are when you're reading, and of course by listening to your fingertip slightly scratching the surface of the pages as you try to follow up with your eye-reading.

– Mind if you read for me some of it, sweetheart?

He asked with a gentle smile and a soft voice, you nodded and flipped to the page you stopped at before he interrupted your reading with that sweet face of his, reading the lines in a loud but soft voice, he rounded your shoulder with his arm as he leant closer to gain more attention to what you read, almost resting his head to yours.

You kept on reading for half an hour, and when you felt his heartbeat slowing its pace —you turned your head to see him resting his head on your shoulder, sleeping his eyes out, his day was rough and full of stress; it was appearing on his shaking hands that rested on you.

"He just needed something to force him to sleep." you thought with a slight giggle, you know he likes falling asleep to your voice even if you were yelling, he likes listening to you humming songs rocking him to sleep after a rough day at the court, or caressing his hair and bandaging him after a fight with the bad guys at night; he just loves you being around him, feeling you, filling his lungs with your scent lingering around the house.

You rested his head to your lap, and he helped you moving his weight, shifting in his place caring for your comfort, until he found the best position for you two, he was directly under your chin if you looked down a little.

– It was a rough day.

You answered yourself on the question you asked him earlier —whispering, quiet enough but he heard it, he nodded slowly, wiping his face with both of his palms, squishing his facial muscles in the process.

You leant over at him, printing a small kiss on the top of his nose —still caressing his hair locks, his face shifted to a big smile, rosy cheeks and slightly opened eyes.

– Thank you, sweetheart.

He was staring into the ceiling, eyes flickering slowly; he looked so tired. You smiled back at him as you always do, he doesn't see it, but he felt your facial muscles' movement; he can feel it when you're mad or happy, sad or bored, just by listening to your heartbeat and the movement of your facial muscles.

– What about some hot cocoa to warm up your heart and wipe the bad thoughts away from you, okay, Matty?

You asked with a soft tone still playing with his hair, and without doubt you know his answer is always "yes" to hot cocoa, specially the one you make, he's always said that it had something special to it, maybe you sprinkle a little bit of love into it.

– Let's make it together.

He answered, lifting his head off your lap to fully sit on the couch, taking another push to stand up, offering you a hand so you could hold it and stand; treating you like a princess, the way he always does even if you were mad at him.

Using the same hand, he rounded your upper arm as you both walked to the counter, you split so you could get inside the kitchen, he took your favorite hot cocoa mugs off the hanger, put them on the counter in front of him and you, you heated the milk, he added the sugar, you added the cocoa powder, he poured the milk into the mugs, you sprinkled them with marshmallows, he sprinkled your face with kisses.

You took your mugs and walked together back to the couch, and spent the rest of the day reading him your new favorite book while he rounded you with his arms, and he listened to you as if you were reading him the Bible, praising your sweet voice and resting to your warm shoulder, while the tiny drops of rain hit the window, creating the best lullaby for a cloudy day.

Tell me what you think about it please UwU -blushes and hides in the corner-

All the love <3

#matthew murdock x reader #matthew manwhore murdock #matty murdock #mattmurdock #matt murdock #matthew murdock #matthew michael murdock #devil of hell’s kitchen #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader fluff

[briochebread]

You can make caramel and candy????? Are you a wizard?? Candy wizard????

I tried makin caramel with my mom once and we ended up with a casserole dish of caramel colored rock

hohohoho! yes, i can and i am! 🥳 homemade caramel is amazing, so if you ever want to try again, here are a lot of tips from the wizard!

making caramel is like medicating a cranky old cat, or like glassblowing! it can be very rewarding, and it can also hurt you quite a lot. be prepared, and move carefully but decisively!

the ideal caramel pot has a small capacity (3 qt-ish), but is relatively tall and heavy for its size! a heavy pot helps distribute heat more evenly and avoid burning, while tall sides help protect you and your stove from the inevitable splattering.

get all your ingredients and equipment ready ahead of time. for the pan where the caramel will sit to cool, line it with greased foil or parchment paper.

be mindful of temperatures. The caramel itself needs to be cooked to a specific temperature in order to get the texture you're going for (hotter final temp -> harder caramel), but also, be aware of the temperature of ingredients as you add them in! cold butter/cream/milk can shock it and cause it to separate. it's best to have those at room temp, or for cream/milk you can pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds to warm it up.

learn when to fuss with it and when to leave it alone. when it's first heating up, you really do have to just leave it and not touch it. if it's a sugar-water caramel and you're worried about crystallization, put a lid on it and set a timer to check every couple of minutes until it's evenly melted! in my experience, this works way better than trying to brush the sides or anything like that.

when you do need to act, act carefully but decisively. adding liquids will make it bubble up dramatically, so watch your fingers! once you take it off the heat, it hardens quickly, so have your prepared pan ready and waiting.

do not let hot caramel touch your hands. it is so so so hot and will stick and burn you badly. i know the caramel left over in the pot is very enticing, so here's what you do: scrape up a nice glob of it with your spatula, leave it on your spoon rest to cool for five minutes, then go for it!

for cleaning solidified caramel out of a pot: put a little bit of soap in there, fill it up to the brim with hot water, and then just leave it in the sink for as long as you can. at least 4 hours, but overnight works great! dunk your spatula and any other caramel-covered cooking tools in there too.

there’s a few different kinds of caramel, and some are easier to make than others. for a higher chance of success, i recommend trying a recipe that has an invert sugar in its sugar base, like reduced apple cider, honey, or corn syrup. my favorite apple cider caramel recipe is here!

good luck! i hope that delicious homemade caramels are in your future ✨✨✨

#food #caramel #GOOD LUCK OUT THERE!!! #making candy is fun and magical and i believe in you!!!

[dexter25]

Get Ready To Brew! Coffee Hints That Will Inspire Your Tastebuds

Get Ready To Brew! Coffee Hints That Will Inspire Your Tastebuds.

There is nothing like coffee to lift a mood or your metabolism. There are a lot of coffee based decisions that can confuse a normal person. You have innumerable options to choose from. Use the advice in this article to benefit you.

When you only want to have one cup of coffee, try using a single cup machine. Keurig systems give you the opportunity to pick and choose exactly what kind of coffee you want, one cup at a time. There are a number of makers and features to choose from.

Do you want more flavorful java than what you get from a drip machine? Better brews can be achieved by allowing your machine to get hot by running a water-only cycle. After this is finished, you can then repeat as you normally would, adding coffee. This also works for giving your coffee maker a good cleaning.

Exercise a bit of caution when selecting water for your coffee. If your water does not taste good, neither will your coffee. Also, try to make sure the water you use has minerals. If not, the coffee could seem bitter. How to Clean Coffee Grinder

When it comes to coffee there are lots of different kinds. Some coffee drinkers like the robust flavor of a dark roast, while others may want a milder and smoother taste. Some like flavored coffees, and some coffees are quite sweet. The majority of people usually use creamer to add flavor instead of drinking flavored coffee.

Always perform a trial run with any new coffee maker. This means running a brewing cycle as if you are making coffee using only water. This cleans out aromas, dirt, dust and debris that might have taken hold during manufacture and transport to the store.

Coffee stored in your fridge can become terrific iced coffee. This will allow your coffee the necessary time to chill without getting watered down when you place hot coffee over ice. You may also want to add sugar or milk before you put it in the refrigerator. You will wake up to a delicious iced beverage. Best Coffee Grinder 2023

For old or cheap coffee makers, you can have better coffee by heating water before making the coffee. Once you have a hot pot of water, add the grounds and pour your hot water back into the machine. This will really bring out the flavor of the coffee and ensure that it is nice and hot.

Water can make or break the flavor of your home brewed coffee. Using bottled water is a great way to get the best tasting coffee. If you do not want to spend money on bottled water, consider getting a filter that fits on your faucet. Filtered water can be a serious improvement over water straight from your faucet.

If lowering your sugar use when drinking coffee is a priority, you will find lots of options. Agave nectar is a healthy, all-natural sweetener that is also safe for diabetics. Some low calorie sweeteners like stevia or splenda stay stable when added to hot liquids and can be safely be used in coffee as well. Cuisinart DCC-3200 Review – Perfectemp Coffee Maker

Remember that the origin of the beans determines the coffee's taste. Mix it up every now and again and try something new. Don't let price be a factor, drink what you love.

Don't ever reheat coffee. Instead of that, try using a thermal mug since it can retain your coffee's heat longer. If you can't do this, think about making another pot of coffee instead.

You can produce frothed milk without a specialty machine. Just put a mug of milk into the microwave and heat until it steams. Use your hands to quickly rotate a kitchen whisk in the hot milk. Keep going until the milk turns frothy. For ideal results, use half-and-half or 2 percent milk.

Overly warm places, such as above the oven, should never be used to store coffee. If you coffee is stored near a heat source, it can lose its flavor. So make sure you don't keep your coffee in any cabinets or counter-space that's too close to your stove.

Do you need some change in your coffee drinking routine? Try adding a little chocolate. This will give you some extra energy, and you'll surely enjoy the taste. One of the best ways to increase energy is to use a dark chocolate coffee in your morning brew.

To lower your caffeine consumption, you don't need to just quit. But that isn't necessary. You can cut down the amount of caffeine slowly by grinding your own blend of half caffeinated and half non-caffeinated coffee beans. Make sure that you keep all of the ratios the same if you are reducing the caffeine content.

If you like to make many different flavors of coffee, the best way to do so is to add creamers or syrups after you have brewed the coffee. This will also reduce the excess build up of flavors on your machine. This also allows your guests to choose their own favorite flavors. Always put in the flavors prior to adding your milk, however.

Do you have a baby that needs your constant attention, making it difficult to finish your morning cup of coffee? If so, discover a fast drive-through coffee shop nearby. Load up the car, head over and grab your coffee and then get back to whatever it is you need to do.

Blended coffees are a great way to experience more complex flavors from your coffee. Specialty coffee shops may help you choose the best blend for your tastes and they may give you a sample prior to buying in bulk.

If you drink it black, coffee can assist with burning fat. Do not add sugar or other high calorie syrups to it, however. That does add calories. Try drinking black coffee in the morning before you eat your breakfast and you should find it easier to keep your weight under control.

As you know by now, there seems to be no limit to the amount of flavors and options when it comes to coffee. The choices are numerous. It is hoped that the information found in this article has helped you to refine your choices and help you ease the decision making process.

#Coffee stored #drink it black #drinking black coffee #Some coffee drinkers like #coffee house

[25mn]

Step-By-Step Guide To Reheating Spaghetti Bolognese

Spaghetti bolognese is a firm number one in families the world over.

Also, what's not to adore about this delectable, substantial, tomatoey dish?

All things considered, frankly, it very well may be interesting to warm.

Especially as warmed pasta has a propensity for turning soft.

In any case, the uplifting news is, that after a little trial and error, I've chosen three methods for warming spaghetti bolognese without forfeiting its quality.

I made a major bunch of spaghetti bolognese a few evenings ago, proposing to save a few extras for my warming tests.

In the wake of putting away it in the cooler short-term, I attempted at least one or two warming strategies prior to choosing my top picks.

Heat the sauce and pasta independently: For spaghetti and a wide range of pasta, warming is unquestionably simple. Empty the pasta into a pot (this one is ideally suited for it) loaded up with bubbling water and let it rest for 2 minutes. For the sauce alone, you have three techniques: Move the sauce to a pot and intensity it on the fire. Put it on a microwave-safe plate. Add a tablespoon of skimmed milk, stock, or water. Microwave in 90-second stretches, stopping to mix. These strategies work perfectly. You can add another fixing to season your spaghetti bolognese of the day; We will see it in the Bit by bit segment.

Heat together the spaghetti bolognese Place the spaghetti in a microwave-safe bowl and microwave in 90-second spans, in the middle between. Move the spaghetti to an ovenproof dish and cover well with aluminum foil. Heat stove to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Heat the spaghetti for around 15 minutes. By following the above you will obtain incredible outcomes, yet there is something else to do. Look at our bit by bit manual for eating the most delicious spaghetti you've at any point tasted.

The strategies Step-By-Step Guide To Reheating Spaghetti Bolognese:

On the oven (best for revitalizing flavor) In the microwave (advantageous, with fair outcomes) In the stove (really great for enormous bits) I really love the oven strategy on the grounds that, while a brief period consuming, you can add to, and enhance, your pasta's flavors.

The microwave is totally reasonable for warming single segments in a rush.

What's more, concerning the stove technique, I was content with the outcomes, yet it takes more time and can make your pasta somewhat dry.

Warming spaghetti bolognese on the oven

Warm a touch of spread in a pot or dish on medium-low intensity on the oven. Add your bolognese and a tablespoon or two of fluid (milk/water/stock) to disperse the sauce. Mix periodically as the pasta warms to guarantee in any event, warming. Once hot, eliminate from the oven and serve.

Assuming that you're warming your sauce and pasta independently, first warm the sauce until it's hot and afterward eliminate it from the intensity.

Add your pasta and permit the combination to represent a little while prior to serving. The lingering warmth from the sauce will warm your pasta.

Step by step instructions to warm spaghetti bolognese on the oven: Soften some margarine in a pot or container on medium-low intensity. Add your bolognese with a tablespoon or two of fluid like milk, water, or stock. As your pasta heats up, mix it once in a while to guarantee even intensity conveyance. Eliminate it from the oven once warm and serve. Warming your extra spaghetti bolognese on medium-low intensity will keep it from overcooking and turning your noodles delicate and soaked.

Add more fluid on a case by case basis in the event that you notice your spaghetti sauce is drying out.

Prior to presenting your feast, you can add some cheddar, garlic, or spices for an additional pop of flavor.

My decision This procedure functions admirably, despite the fact that you want to screen and mix your dish while warming it.

What I enjoyed most was that I could undoubtedly add additional flavors (spices, garlic) to make my spaghetti bolognese taste new.

If you have the opportunity and need to warm a sizeable part, I'd suggest utilizing this strategy.

Warming spaghetti bolognese in the microwave

Place a piece of spaghetti bolognese in a microwave-safe dish and add a tablespoon of water, milk, or stock. Cover the dish with a sodden paper towel, cling wrap, or a top. Heat on medium (half power) in 30-second stretches. Mix at each stop. Once warm, rest briefly prior to serving.

Assuming your sauce and pasta are discrete, you can warm the sauce without anyone else.

When it's warm, include the pasta and zap it in the microwave for 3-5 seconds prior to serving.

As with the burner technique, lingering heat from the pasta sauce will warm the spaghetti.

The most effective method to warm spaghetti bolognese in the microwave: Place the bolognese in a microwave-safe dish. Sprinkle over a modest quantity of water/milk/stock to add dampness. Cover the dish with a sodden paper towel, a top, or a piece of saran wrap with openings. Heat your pasta in 30-second additions on medium intensity (half power). Mix the bolognese at every span. Once warm, rest briefly prior to serving. Covering the dish traps in steam and forestalls an excessive amount of dampness from getting away.

Mixing your extras at every span will guarantee in any event, warming.

Assuming it begins to dry out, go ahead and add more fluid until your sauce arrives at the right consistency.

My decision This strategy conveys great outcomes, and I can't blame its speed and comfort.

It would be my go-to strategy in the event that I were simply warming a speedy part for myself.

That being said, it turns the sauce a piece watery.

In the event that I were heating up spaghetti for a couple of individuals, I'd prefer pick a technique where I could add additional flavor (like the oven strategy).

Warming spaghetti bolognese in the broiler

Preheat your broiler to 350°F (180°C). Spread out your extra spaghetti bolognese on a baking plate. Add a tablespoon or two of fluid (water/milk/stock) and mix through. Cover the dish with foil and warm for 10 minutes. Eliminate from the broiler and serve right away.

Assuming your pasta and sauce are independent, follow the above strategy to just intensity the sauce.

Once hot, add your pasta and permit to represent a little while to heat up prior to serving.

The most effective method to warm spaghetti bolognese in the stove: Preheat your stove to 350°F (180°C). Spread extra spaghetti out on a baking plate. Blend in a tablespoon or two of milk, water, or stock. Cover the plate with foil. Warm in the broiler for 10 minutes. Eliminate and serve right away.

Covering the baking plate with foil secures in steam and keeps your spaghetti from drying out something over the top.

To add a pop of flavor, take a stab at adding some ground cheddar throughout the previous couple of moments of the warming system.

You may likewise have to include a touch of additional fluid on the off chance that it begins to look dry.

My decision This technique is somewhat on the sluggish side however conveys great outcomes.

There is a possibility drying out the pasta sauce, however this can be forestalled by adding additional fluid.

I'd prescribe utilizing the broiler to warm bigger segments of spaghetti bolognese.

Instructions to warm plain spaghetti To warm plain spaghetti, you can sauté it over medium intensity in a little water on the oven. Mix the pasta in the prospect to 3 minutes or until warm as you would prefer. For less immediate intensity, basically dunk your extra pasta in steaming hot water for a couple of moments until it's warm.

On the other hand, place some extra spaghetti in a microwave-safe bowl with a sprinkle of olive oil.

Cover the bowl with cling wrap (punched with holes) and warm on medium intensity for 30 to 60 seconds, mixing midway.

Olive oil forestalls amassing.

Both of these techniques will work perfectly assuming you've put away your spaghetti bolognese parts independently and you're stressed that your extra sauce won't be sufficient to warm your pasta.

The most effective method to store spaghetti bolognese

To store spaghetti bolognese in the refrigerator, first cool it to room temperature. Then, at that point, move your extras into an impenetrable holder. Utilize a glass compartment, if conceivable, to forestall staining. Seal the holder and store it in the ice chest for as long as 4 days.

Assuming you're cooking spaghetti bolognese early or seizing extras, store your sauce and pasta independently.

Throwing a touch of olive oil with your extra plain spaghetti will keep it from staying.

It's fundamental that you permit your spaghetti to cool prior to putting away, as this forestalls buildup develop in the compartment that can turn your pasta saturated.

Might you at any point freeze spaghetti bolognese?

Extra spaghetti bolognese can be frozen for as long as 90 days (to hold the best quality). Move your cooled extras into a sealed shut compartment or part them into zip-lock cooler sacks. In the case of utilizing the last option, eliminate overabundance air from the sacks prior to fixing and level for simple capacity.

With regards to spaghetti bolognese, it's ideal to freeze the sauce and cook new pasta while warming.

Nonetheless, this is certainly not an unquestionable necessity, and your extra spaghetti bolognese will warm fine and dandy.

Step by step instructions to freeze spaghetti bolognese: Permit your spaghetti bolognese to cool to room temperature. Move your extras into a sealed shut compartment or zip-lock cooler sacks. Mark each part with the date. Store in the cooler and use in three months or less. To eliminate the overabundance air from cooler sacks, dunk them into a container of water (66% profound) while fixing. This powers air out.

It's likewise conceivable to freeze plain spaghetti in the event that your parts are discrete.

Simply throw your noodles in olive oil prior to moving them into a pack to keep them from staying.

Instructions to defrost and warm frozen spaghetti bolognese Whenever frozen, you should defrost your extra spaghetti bolognese prior to warming it. In a perfect world, you need to allow it to thaw out for the time being in the ice chest. Yet, in the event that you're in a rush, you can run the cooler holder under warm water or defrost it in the microwave on the thaw out setting for 1 to 2 minutes.

Once defrosted, you can warm your extras utilizing the oven, microwave, or stove strategy nitty gritty above.

To revitalize your flavors, I suggest utilizing the burner technique and adding some garlic, spices, or cheddar for additional character.

Precisely How To Warm Spaghetti Bolognese In this short recipe, I show you the most effective way to warm your extra spaghetti bolognese.

Course: Primary CourseCuisine: ItalianKeyword: warm spaghetti bolognese, spaghetti bolognesePrep Time: 0 minutesCook Time: 2 minutesTotal Time: 2 minutesServings: 1 personCalories: 113kcal Fixings 1 tsp spread 1 part spaghetti bolognese 1 tbsp water milk or stock additionally work Directions Dissolve some margarine in a pot or dish on medium-low intensity. Add your bolognese with a tablespoon or two of fluid like milk, water, or stock. As your pasta heats up, mix it incidentally to guarantee even intensity dispersion. Eliminate it from the oven once warm and serve.

[binsofchaos]

One Pot Rice | Julia Turshen

Heat a little oil in a pot. Just enough to cover the bottom of the pot. The heavier your pot, the better (a Dutch oven is great). This oil can be whatever type you like.

If you want to use meat, add it to the pot — to make roughly four generous servings, you’re going to need about a pound of meat or less (like 1/4 - 1/2 pound) of something more intense like pancetta or bacon. For the meat, this could be a few diced, boneless/skinless chicken thighs, any type of sausage freed from its casing and crumbled into pieces, a pound of ground meat (any type), or a few slices of bacon cut into small pieces…whatever. Cook the meat until it’s mostly browned, or at least cooked through. You can also skip the meat and make this all vegetables or vegetables + beans or vegetables + shrimp or fish (more on those variations in a moment).

Then add a bunch of chopped vegetables — just a big diced onion will do, or a mix of things like carrots, celery, fennel, peppers, peeled squash, whatever. You can also use fermented vegetables like a bunch of sauerkraut or kimchi! Or frozen vegetables like a bag of spinach or kale. Let the vegetables get a bit soft. No need to remove the meat from the pot when you do this.

Season the vegetables. This could just be salt. But it could also be all sorts of ground spices like cumin, coriander, smoked paprika, adobo, gochugaru (or any hot pepper for that matter)…whatever!

Add rice! I usually do 1 cup of long grain white rice for one pot. You can also do brown rice or any grain — just adjust the cooking time as needed. For example, brown rice will need closer to an hour of cooking time. Quinoa would just need about 10 - 15 minutes of cooking time.

Add liquid. This could be water. This could any type of stock. This could be a little coconut milk and water. This could be crushed tomatoes and stock. You get the idea. I usually do two parts liquid to one part rice. So for 1 cup of long grain rice, I do 2 cups of liquid. This ratio for white rice leaves you with a pot of food that isn’t dried out. You can do a little less (more like 1.5 parts liquid to 1 part rice) if you want your rice to be fluffier. If you do another grain, keep the liquid ration in mind — brown rice, for example, will definitely need two parts liquid to one part rice. You can also add drained canned beans at this point or beans or lentils you cooked yourself.

Stir everything well, bring the mixture to a boil, and once it boils, turn it to low, cover it, and let it simmer until the rice is cooked, which will be about 20 to 25 minutes for white rice (again, less or more for other grains).

Let the pot of food sit off of the heat, covered, for at least 10 minutes before serving. If you want to add peeled shrimp or small pieces of skinless/boneless fish, just open the pot quickly, put the seafood on top, cover it and let it sit with the cover on until the seafood gets completely cooked through with the residual heat, about 10 - 15 minutes.

Serve as is or feel free to top your portion with fun toppings…cheese, sour cream, fresh herbs, sliced scallions, crunchy fried onions, hot sauce, tahini dressing…whatever you want!

Here are a few ideas in a chart if that helps get your wheels spinning:

And everything in one place:

A few more notes…

This is a great thing to make a couple hours ahead and just let it sit covered on the stove (heat off) or make further ahead and just reheat in the microwave or in a pot over low heat.

If you have enough stuff in the pot, you won’t need anything else, but you can always round out the meal with a simple salad or some warm garlic bread.

The possibilities with this one pot rice formula are truly endless. 

#one pot rice #julia turshen #rice #dinner #simple

[funkyfreshb]

A couple of months ago I made a post here saying I made a website. Since then I've added a Blog page where I have posted both old and new things, but for some reason I haven't posted the new ones here where I would usually upload my longer posts. I'm gonna repost the ones that aren't here yet over the next [time period], and in the future I'll cross-post new ones here as well. Until I'm caught up you can find all posts at thefunkyhut.neocities.org/blog.html. To start, here's my most recent post: A recipe for peanut sauce

An easy to make peanut sauce that goes great with some rice and shallow fried chicken. This recipe is trying to replicate the taste of the best peanut sauce I've ever had, that of a local chinese restaurant that sadly no longer exists.

Ingredients (one batch)

400 millilitres coconut milk

250 grams peanut butter

2 teaspoons sambal oelek

6 teaspoons fish sauce

2 teaspoons sugar

Cooking

Put the coconut milk in a pot with the peanut butter. Mix them together on the stove on low heat while adding the rest of the ingredients. Keep an eye on the sauce so it doesn't break. Remove from stove once its warm enough (roughly 15 minutes). Enjoy!

A good thing about this recipe is that it's easy to adjust to your specific needs. Reduce the amount of sambal to lower its spiciness or add more sugar for a sweeter flavor. Why not add more coconut milk to make it less firm? Chop up some onions, braize them and add to the mix if you want.

This recipe is a good starting point for making your own peanut sauce. I will admit it's not where I personally want it to be quite yet, but it is good enough to be enjoyed in its own right, so I hope you enjoy it.

#ffblog #recipe #peanut sauce #long post

[eduardomecl533]

The Best California Suppliers of Rice

VARIOUS WAYS TO CHEF RICE. Rice requires to be extensively washed. An excellent way to do this is to put it right into a bowl-shaped sieve, in a deep frying pan of water. Massage the rice well with the hands, raising the colander in and out the water, as well as transforming the water till it is clear; after that drain. In this way the grit is deposited in the water, and the rice left extensively clean. The very best technique of cooking rice is by steaming it. If boiled in much water, it sheds a portion of its currently tiny portion of nitrogenous aspects. It needs a lot less time for cooking than any one of the other grains. Like all the dried grains and seeds, rice swells in cooking to several times its initial mass. When cooked, each grain of rice must be separate as well as distinct, yet completely tender.

Fit to be tied rice. Saturate a cup of rice in one and also a fourth cups of water for an hour, after that add a cup of milk, become a meal appropriate for serving it from at table, as well as location in a heavy steam stove or a covered steamer over a kettle of boiling water, as well as steam for a hr. It needs to be stirred with a fork sometimes, for the very first ten or fifteen mins.

Boiled rice (Japanese approach). Completely clean the rice by cleaning in several waters, and soak it overnight. In the morning, drain it, and also propounded cook in an equal amount of boiling water, that is, a pint of water for a pint of rice. For food preparation, a stewpan with snugly fitting cover should be used. Warm the water to steaming, then add the rice, and after stirring, place on the cover, which is not once more to be gotten rid of throughout the boiling. In the beginning, as the water boils, vapor will puff out easily from under the cover, however when the water has actually almost vaporized, which will certainly remain in eight to 10 minutes, according to the age and top quality of the rice, just a faint tip of vapor will be observed, and the stewpan has to after that be gotten rid of from over the fire to some position on the variety, where it will not shed, to swell and also completely dry for fifteen or twenty minutes.

How To Find Reliable Manufacturers of Rice in New York

The Most Healthy And Balanced Rice Recipe. If you are trying to find classic, well tasting as well as extremely healthy and balanced rice dishes, after that you ought to understand about the very healthy and balanced and also tasty 'Sarawak Kecap Manis'. This rice dish is an ancient rice dish prepared as early as 1000 You can find out more ADVERTISEMENT. Nowadays, this rice recipe is made with natural ingredients (including coconut hand and also palm sugar) and risk-free to eat, it is a great source https://www.trademama.com/rice-grains/suppliers.html of power for weight conscious individuals. Likewise the various other excellent feature of this rice meal is that despite the fact that it is abundant in protein, consists of vitamin B, carbs, minerals, calories, fat, saturated, trans and cholesterol totally free oils and also buttermilk, it still is very reduced in fat, so it is terrific for dieters and also those who are watching weight. Additionally, reduced in salt, it is an excellent food for those that have hypertension and also heart disease as well as that are prone to obtaining cardiovascular disease.

Orange rice. Wash and also vapor the rice. Prepare some oranges by separating right into areas as well as reducing each area in halves, eliminating the seeds and all the white section. Sprinkle the oranges lightly with sugar, and also let them stand while the rice is cooking. Serve a part of the orange on each saucerful of rice. Rice with raisins. Very carefully wash a cupful of rice, soak it, and cook as guided for Steamed Rice. After the rice has actually started to swell, but prior to it has actually softened, mix right into it gently, utilizing a fork for the objective, a cup of raisins. Offer with cream.

The Analine process involves enzymatic browning of the rice. This likewise entails using enzymes which are affixed to the rice. The enzymes as well as other parts in the rice have a vital role in its particular taste and also structure. For this to happen, the rice has to be partly enzymically prepared. The rice cooker will keep the rice in an enzyme remedy. This solution is 1:1 ratio. As the rice cooks, the option increases to 3:1 ratio. The complete enzyme enzyme activity happens at a temperature of 42 ° C. So the rice continues to be undamaged throughout the food preparation procedure. The rice stove can be used to prepare rice of different high qualities like white, brownish and sushi rice. This rice is prepared by placing the rice in the middle of the stove as well as pumping it packed with water. The cover of the stove is not required.

[espresso-coffeemachine]

Compare Ninja CE251 vs CE201 Model

What portion of the espresso machine do you believe is generally vital to plan for making the best espresso? Numerous barista clients say that the flavor of espresso relies upon the recipe. Ninja CE251 is for a period without a maker that could do likewise. Its hot brewery innovation gives you high intensity for extremely hot espresso. He is given 15 seconds to put it on. This Ninja ce251 programmable brewer is completely chosen for espresso eaters as it permits you to mix hot espresso for as long as 24 hours. It permits you to require activity in front of investment presented by a couple of winemakers. How about we continue toward its definition.

Espresso creator Ninja CE251 can blend so you can get lovely or rich.

Its adaptable warming curls keep the espresso hot for as long as four hours.

This sort of Ninja Coffee includes a straightforward 60oz water repellent. The 24-hour brew plan gives you something hot early.

This bottling work incorporates a mid-mix breaker that permits you to snatch a glass of mid-brew.

The Ninja CE215 Programmable Brewer accompanies an adaptable stove that gives you extremely hot espresso for as long as 4 hours. The Ninja Ce201 espresso creator accompanies a short warming plate to keep its warm intensity for 4 hours without heat.

Espresso as well as tea has an astounding taste. Its flavor gives the espresso a scrumptiously sexy, sensitive, blossom fruity fragrance. This superb espresso program has a straw processor to convey the espresso to guarantee you have a warm, scrumptious espresso.

The hot innovation of this sort of Ninja doesn't allow you to ponder hot espresso. Its hot blazes have an adaptable temperature blend for ideal hot espresso at the right temperature.

It has a 60oz water stockpiling tank that can hold up to 12 cups of carafe milk. It has a very much depleted water tank that permits you to fill the tank without the mess.

A foamy icing framework gives you a lot of milk making for a delectable cappuccino.

This kind of Ninja accompanies different frills like a long-lasting channel, a ninja scoop introduced, and a 12-glass screen.

What clients say regarding the Ninja CE215 Programmable Coffee Maker

Ninja CE215 Programmable Coffee Maker enjoys a significant upper hand over its clients. Ninja has thought of many models. In any case, this kind of espresso of the Ninja party celebrates all that of its ancestor. He utilizes a great deal of rapture with this brewer. For amateurs, they share a few hints so they can play out the unrewarding brewery and get it.

The most ridiculously contacting portion of this is all there is to it carafe. Any year clients can utilize it since it is not difficult to introduce. It permits you to drink espresso the entire day without complaint. Mobile water tanks are an extraordinary expansion to moment cleaning. As indicated by them, this is an espresso creator with remarkable quality. The pot of the espresso producer doesn't bubble as fast as the supposed espresso pot. Be that as it may, barely any clients have grumbled about its frying pan. They said his hot plate couldn't keep the espresso warm. In any case, this producer is faultless. They support it without a doubt. Likewise, you can find the best Keurig espresso model to consider. A significant piece of the Ninja CE215 Programmable Brewer

The capacity to brew

The Ninja CE215 Programmable Brewer accompanies a hot and cold shower framework so you can blend new espresso and tea quickly.

Ninja clients can make foamy specialty wine by adhering to their guidelines and directions. No other espresso producer conveys espresso and tea as rich and exemplary as Ninja Coffee Maker. You don't need to stress over brew size. It gives you the legitimate temperature for a brief time frame and doesn't give you harsh or hot espresso. To make the fermenting system simpler, it offers bottling works.

An implicit pinner permits you to quantify how much espresso, milk, and different fixings make a solid espresso.

Cleaning and support

This programmable espresso machine gives you great espresso while you clean it routinely. To clean it, you want to wash the portafilter, super durable channels, and carafe. If you have any desire to keep your machine exceptionally spotless, you can clean it. On the off chance that you think it generally looks great, you can utilize a cleanser and clean water. In the wake of completing the espresso, wipe the machine with a spotless fabric.

If you have any desire to clean it appropriately, you can dismantle the machine. Complete directions you can find from Ninja espresso producers or their client support organizations.

Life span

Typically, the Ninja CE215 allows you one year guarantee. However, here and there this machine has a great deal of discussion about making a round brew and water tank. You can expand the life expectancy by accomplishing cleaning work or supplanting the parts. As per client numbers, this maker labored for quite some time. Be that as it may, it relies upon your utilization rate. Then again, countless clients say it just labors for a half year. Assuming that it is a half year old, you can contact client support and they will fix it. You might be intrigued to know the Ninja Coffee Bar CF091 Carafe System Review

or on the other hand, think about the Delonghi America BCO430 Review - Is it the equivalent?

Ninja CE215 Coffee Maker FAQs

Is it hardened steel?

No. It is plastic. In any case, a few sections are metal. In any event, when it is made of plastic, it doesn't separate rapidly. Is it treated steel? No. It is plastic. Be that as it may, a few sections are metal. In any event, when it is made of plastic, it doesn't separate rapidly.

Is the dish light?

Indeed. The hot compressed air firearm has a fire. At the point when it illuminates, the buttons light up.

Last Thoughts

Ninja CE215 is more than an unrivaled program engineer. To provide you with some espresso in the first part of the day, there is no foe. Getting it for not exactly $ 100 would be a savvy choice. So put away your cash accurately.

#coffee #coffee lovers #coffee machine #health & fitness

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

I just. I just thought about Eddie holding baby Jee-Yun? And singing to her while she clutches at his finger with her tiny meaty baby hand??

Maybe Buck freaked out a little because she was being fussy and wouldn't settle, and its probably nothing but hey, who better to call than Eddie, who conveniently has the day off and cuts off Buck's panicked rambling with a soothing;

"Its okay, Buck. Give me ten minutes, okay? You're doing great. She's probably just restless."

Eddie gets there and sends Buck off to cook dinner or shower or take a nap, scooping Jee-Yun out of her travel crib and making sure she's changed, warm, fed and content. And its been so long since Christopher was this tiny, but holding Jee-Yun makes him think back to that tiny, wriggly little bundle in his arms for the first time, back before it all went to shit.

Eddie pacing slowly around the lower loft, singing quietly, tickling her little chin, grinning when she giggles and gurgles at him. And he can see so much of Maddie and Chimney in her already. She's got Maddie's eyes and Chimney's lopsided grin.

(And for a little crack, maybe Buck catches this scene and is so overwhelmed he just blurts out; "put a baby in me!" And Eddie is like; "... What?" 👁👄👁 Which cues a hilariously awkward but heartfelt confession of feelings on both sides.)

Hey hey! So I like I told you I started this a while ago and then got SEVERE AND DEBILITATING writers block, and it sat waiting for new life. And then 5x03 happened, so Hello, new life! I hope you love it!

With You, My Life, I Will Get Married

Warning: mild spoilers for 9-1-1 season 5 episode 3.

Chimney was out searching for Maddie.

After shifts, on weekends, whenever he had a second, he was either spending time with Jee or out searching for her mom.

In times when he was on the search everyone at the 118 was making time to watch Jee Yun. Mrs. Lee was doing what she could, but couldn't always be available, and when that happened, Jee would spend some time at Bobby and Athena's or by Hen and Karen. And when they had too much going on, or when either of the uncles felt like they weren't getting enough time with their beautiful niece, she would spend time at her Uncle Buck's or Uncle Albert's.

Uncle Buck got lucky this time.

Eight hours in and everything had gone wrong. Buck shoulders were damp with spit-up, baby drool, and snot and all Jee seemed capable of doing was crying, crying, crying.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know what I did wrong, and, and now--just, Jee, please, it's okay, I'm here--!"

She continued to yell and Buck got more and more panicked. "Your Uncle Albert's gonna be here in like 5 minutes, Jee, okay? And then, maybe, maybe he's better with you? And will make you happy, and then--Oh God, what have I done wrong--"

A knocking at the door sent him back on his feet, swaying toward the loft entrance. It opened before he could get there, however, and he stopped where he was, a furious Jee Yun screaming in his ears as Eddie Diaz, not Albert Han, walked in.

"You look like you're having fun." Eddie's eyebrow was raised and his mouth quirked in a teasing smile.

"Eddie...?" Buck's momentary shock was interrupted as Jee let out another wail. "Um, sorry, this isn't the best time at the moment, but Albert--"

"--has a date tonight and sent me as his relief." Eddie reached out and plucked Jee Yun from Buck's arms. "And you have a date with your shower and a few hours' sleep."

"I--no, it's okay, I know you just got off shift--"

"Buck." Eddie shifted Jee to one arm, and the other rested on Buck's chest, over his pattering heartbeat. He met Buck's eyes, his own calm despite the bundle of adorable chaos still screaming bloody murder into his shoulder. "Go shower."

"...Yeah, okay."

***

She truly was one of the cutest babies, even when she was liable to wake up the neighborhood with her noise, Eddie thought with a smile as he re-seated her over one shoulder and began to firmly but gently tap her back.

"Your Tio Eddie is going to assume this is a gas issue, okay, chiquita? Christopher used to have this all the time, and he would scream and cry." Eddie huffed ruefully. "I was useless at it then, but Shannon showed me what to do." He kept tapping at her back. "Good set of lungs means a healthy baby, good job, Jee. Now, let's see if we can't get this gas out of you so you can calm down and you and your Tio Buck can get some sleep, okay?"

Eddie started circling the room, the sun beginning to set as he heard he shower turn on.

"There you go, see? Your Buck is going to get all showered since you drooled all over him, and then you both can get some sleep, how's that sound?"

He was answered with a burp far louder than Jee's small body should be capable of making. Then a sweet gurgling sound as she nestled her chin into his shoulder.

"There, feel better, mi princesa?" Eddie whispered against her soft, downy hair. "When I was small and got upset, and my parents got annoyed with my sulking, they'd send me to Abuela. And she would sit me down on her lap, just like this," he sat down on Buck's couch, and settled Jee Yun against his broad chest, rubbing her small back with a large warm hand. "And she would hug me until I forgot what I was so upset about. All I could think about was the smell of her perfume and how much I wanted to be like her one day.

"Then Pepa would come out and yell at both of us that it's about damn time we came into the house, dinner doesn't make itself." Eddie laughed at the memory. Jee made a small discontented noise and Eddie stood up again, walking toward the kitchen, where he saw the half-formed works of bottle making on the counter. "Shhh, princesa, Tio Eddie's gonna make you a bottle." With Jee over his shoulder, sounding more and more on the edge of hunger-panic, Eddie quickly assembled a bottle then leaned back against the kitchen island and cradled Jee Yun in his arms, pressing the nipple to her mouth, which she accepted gratefully.

"Better, yeah? Where was I...? Oh." Eddie smiled. "Once we were inside, Pepa, Abuela and I would make arroz con leche. Abuella would wash the rice, Pepa would be tutting the whole time about too much sugar, but she would always wink at me and add just a bit more before the cinnamon." Eddie couldn't help the smile that stole over his face as he remembered Abuela's warm kitchen in her El Paso ranch house before she and Pepa relocated to LA. In winter, the windows would fog over from the heat of whatever was on the stove. When she left, a lot of Eddie's heart left with her.

"They used to sing me the song too, you know?" Jee gurgled around her dinner and Eddie smiled again. "Well, I wasn't planning to sing it, but you drive a hard bargain." Eddie's poked Jee's soft cheek with a finger and began to sing.

Arroz con leche se quiere casar con una viudita de la capital, que sepa tejer, que sepa bordar, que ponga la aguja en su campanal.

(English translation: Rice with milk (rice pudding) Wishes to get married With a little widow from the capital. Who knows how to weave (or knit), Who knows how to embroider, Who puts the church steeple in the bell tower.)

***

Eddie was no American Idol contestant, but his voice was soothing and good. Strong. Listening to him sing from his seat on the stairs, Buck almost felt like he was where Jee currently snuggled, right against Eddie's chest, as his bass voice sung the gentle Spanish lyrics, harmonized by the occasional happy noise from Jee Yun.

Yo soy la viudita la hija del rey. Me quiero casar y no sé con quien. Contigo sí, contigo no, Contigo mi vida me casaré yo.

(English translation: I am the widow The daughter of the king, I want to get married and I don’t know with whom. With you, yes. With you, no. With you, my life, I will get married.)

Buck's head knocked lightly against the banister, body relaxing. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just the softest sweatpants he owned with a towel draped over his shoulders to catch water from the mess of wet curls on his head.

Eddie's so hard on himself all the time. I don't get it. He's such a good dad.

Dazedly, Buck's eyes fixed on Eddie's mouth as he repeated the verses again. Then Eddie sighed.

"Afterward Pepa would ask me who I want to marry and Abuela would laugh at me, and I'd always complain--" Jee gurgled again. "Like that, yes. But honestly, it was nice... Even though between you and me, Pepa can't sing very well at all." Eddie's lips quirked again in a smile. "Kind of like your Uncle Buck."

Buck startled at his name and looked up at Eddie's eyes. They twinkled back at him in the dying last light of the day, Eddie's golden skin lit by the last rays of the sun. Buck felt his face heat with a blush, knew there was nothing to do about it.

"Sorry, I should've--"

"Feel better after your shower?"

Buck sighed and smiled. "Yeah. World's better." He stood, stretching out his long legs as he descended the stairs. It was full dark now, but Buck didn't feel like turning on a light. "I can take her now."

"Nope." Eddie met him midway, hand on Buck's shoulder turning him around. "You're both getting some sleep now." One hand on Buck's shoulder, the other holding a drowsy Jee Yun, Eddie guided him back up the stairs, and pressed Buck down until he was sitting on his bed.

"Eddie, are you sure--"

"Shhh." Eddie deposited Jee into Buck's arms, then sat down behind him. "You can hold her for now." Eddie's hands skimmed up Buck's warm back then pulled the towel off Buck's shoulders, laying it on top of Buck's head, where a corner flopped over his eyes.

"Eddie?"

"Hold still, Buck."

Eddie's strong hands curled into the towel and Buck's hair, rubbing vigorously to get it dry. "Seriously, anyone who has ever seen your hair at work would marvel at how different it looks before you comb and gel all the life out of it." He rubbed vigorously, and Buck felt himself relaxing back against Eddie's chest. Tomorrow, he might look back at this and feel embarrassed. He might have to apologize. Tomorrow, he would go back to hiding how much he felt for the man who was drying his hair, still absent-mindedly humming the Arroz con leche tune under his breath. But for now, Eddie was too near and too warm and too... Eddie. And Buck found that he couldn't deny himself Eddie right now.

Buck cleared his throat and made himself focus on their conversation. "I used to wear my hair naturally, but people said it looked floppy. Made me look like a puppy."

"People are stupid sometimes, Buck. You know this." Eddie's thumb traced the shell of Buck's ear. "And if you think slicking back your hair makes you look less like a puppy, you really shouldn't be bothering." He snickered as Buck tried to shoulder his chest and Jee made a noise of complaint.

"So I just look like a puppy all the time, huh?"

The towel dropped. Eddie's arms came around, holding onto Buck and Jee Yun both. "I think you're a beautiful man, Buck."

The air in Buck's chest hiccupped out of his mouth. His heart picked up speed as the places where Eddie's hands rested on his stomach seemed to heat from within. "Y... Eddie?"

"Shhh. Sleep now. Jee's asleep, but who knows for how long." Eddie's voice was gruff, embarrassed. "I'll just--"

"Stay?" It came out too high, too soft. Buck cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, if it isn't any trouble, and--"

"I can stay." Eddie's arms tightened around Buck again and he pulled him backwards until Buck could lay out flat on his back, before pressing Buck's head down on his pillow. Then Eddie pulled Jee from Buck's arms and sat back against the headrest, legs folded together, Buck's niece cuddled again against his chest. "Sleep now."

"Okay." There was so much Buck wanted to know. To say. It all got stopped in his throat as fear tamped it all down to squirm in his chest.

"Eddie?" The word found its way out.

"Hm?"

"...Nothing."

A sigh. Then, "Come here."

Buck didn't hesitate, moving his head off the pillow and onto Eddie's lap. Eddie's spare hand found its way back into his curls and tugged lightly before stroking through them, gently, so gently.

"Sleep now."

"Okay. But," Buck's jaw cracked around a large yawn. "Before... you have to know..."

"Hm?"

"You are... so beautiful... Eddie Diaz."

Buck felt Eddie's hand tighten in his hair again, before releasing, fingers wandering down to trace his eyebrows, his nose, his lips.

"Sleep, querido."

As Buck's eyes slipped closed, and awareness almost dropped away, he swore he could feel lips press lightly right above his eye, on his birth mark.

"Contigo mi vida me casaré yo."

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #jee yun buckley-han #buddie #buddie fic #9 1 1 fanfiction #fanfic #fic request #sue answers #I AM CAPABLE OF ONLY SOFTNESS RIGHT NOW #CALL THE DENTIST #IT'S PURE COTTON CANDY #Also disclaimer #I am not hispanic #I asked my best friend who is and she told me this is the song her dad would sing to her #and he makes her arroz con leche all the time and I got to eat it too #it makes my heart warm just thinking about it #so I gave that memory to eddie #9-1-1 #9-1-1 spoilers

[clairlycreature]

Day 1

chapter two of my little uhh fanfiction here, i applied for an account on AO3 so if i get an invite ill start posting this fic on there

this chapter is called "day 1" because its the first full day our boys are together and all next chapters will follow this scheme so enjoy

The whirring of fans and clinking of metal wakes Sai from his deep sleep. Looking up from his futon he sees Genos, awake, and slumped against the wall. It appears that little spider-esque bots are fixing his limbs. Hm... Where’d those come from?

“I sent out some drones to retrieve my supplies... In case you were wondering.” Genos spoke up. Ah, spider drones? A weird aesthetic choice.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Saitama sits up. “Were you up all night?”

“Yes.”

“Hm… Don’t you need sleep?”

“I can stay up as long as I need to.”

Looking at the borg's cracked face showed otherwise. His eyes show a tired expression, and the way he doesn’t even move to look at his host is enough to show Genos’ exhaustion. It doesn’t seem best to push that conversation any further. So, Saitama quickly changes the subject.

“How about some breakfast, or maybe coffee? I got some nice bread at the market the other day and I can make some good French toast.”

“You talk a lot.” Genos states abruptly. He takes a heavy breath, “But yes, I would like some coffee.”

Saitama nods. He stands and puts his futon up and walks to the kitchen with a yawn. He can see Genos from the kitchen window. His current state looks pretty bad, but it seems like he can handle it with those little… What’d Genos call them? Drones? Kinda icky looking, but Saitama never really liked bugs to begin with. He turns on the stove to heat up the frying pan as he preps the eggs and bread. As the toast begins to fry, he turns to the single-serve coffee machine to make Genos a cup.

“Want anything in your cup? I got sugar, milk, even some cinnamon if you’d like some of that.”

“Milk and sugar… Uhm. Please.” Genos says quietly, as if embarrassed by his taste in coffee.

The great chef Saitama makes his order of coffee and goes to bring it to his guest. It’s a warm, brown color from the milk. And steaming hot. Genos nods his head as if saying ‘thank you’. Saitama returns to the kitchen to flip the toast before it gets all burnt and yucky. It turns out a lot better than usual.

He sets up the table and sits down to eat. “Do you wanna come eat at the table? I don’t really want crumbs on my floor.”

Genos looks at him, and then at the table. Sliding across the floor, he joins Saitama at the small table for breakfast. This actually looks pretty good.

The two eat in silence. It’s only been half a day since Genos dropped by (literally) and it’s pretty awkward. Saitama isn’t used to anyone being in his home for so long, probably because literally no one ever came over. He really doesn’t have any friends. And Genos is so… weird. He’s part robot, looks like he could kill anyone with his bare hands and is very quiet. It’s kind of hard to talk to him. Attempting to slice the thick atmosphere, Saitama makes more and more small talk.

“So, what happened? To make you fall from the sky, I mean.”

…

“My boosters failed from too much internal damage.”

“Boosters?” Saitama leans in, that sounds cool! “Like, you can fly and stuff?”

Genos is taken aback by the sudden interest. “Yes. I can do many things with this metallic body of mine.”

“Are you like a fighting cyborg? I bet you can shoot fire from your hands too!”

“Uhm. Yes, actually. Fire, bullets, rockets. I am loaded with deadly ammunition.”

Saitama’s eyes light up more as he leans in further, very interested in this new discovery. “Are you a superhero? From the association?”

Genos’ face turns to frown. It seems that question really bothered him.

“No, I’m not associated with the Hero Association in any means. I’m a…” He pauses, thinking of how to explain his... situation. “I’m a loner, you could say.”

“A vigilante… Even cooler! Like those animes about the loner hero who goes against the grain- Awesome!” Saitama’s smile is bright, but maybe that’s just the lighting shining down on him. Ahem. Smooth head.

Genos never really took notice of that before.

“So, uhm.” He stammers, looking to change the topic of his occupation immediately, “How. About you? What’s your story?”

Saitama sits back, “Ah, nothing really. I’m just the nobody who lives in the ghost town.”

“Oh, so your… Head. Is it just like that?” Genos tries to make the incredibly rude question as un-rude as he can.

“What?”

The two stare at each other… And then Saitama suddenly understood,

“Oh, you mean because I’m bald? I just have alopecia.” He turns his head a bit to avoid eye contact. Unfortunately, it was actually pretty rude.

They finish breakfast with more awkward silence. Saitama stands, takes the dirty dishes to the kitchen and places them in the sink. Looks like he’s running low on dish soap, he’ll add that to the list for tomorrow’s grocery trip. In the other room Genos slinks back to his wall and continues to let his drones work on the wiring in his leg. The sun is still trying to rise as Saitama finishes washing the dishes. It’s looking like another great day, so he picks out some clean shorts from the closet and goes to the bathroom to do those morning duties. After changing he heads to the door and starts putting on his running shoes, then remembers he has a man in his house.

“Hey, Genos.” He calls out from the entryway, “I’m going out for a run so, uh. Make yourself comfortable.” He can see the cyborg give him another small nod, and with that Saitama starts his run.

The door shuts and Genos is all alone with his drones. As it should be. Why’s this random guy so nice? It’s best to keep his distance, after all, who knows what kind of connections he has. Some dude living in the middle of City Z’s infamous ghost town has to be of some importance, right?

Maybe he works for the city and takes intel on the monsters that sometimes parade around here. Then again, as Genos looks around the tiny apartment, he begins to think otherwise. This Saitama guy has lots of… How to call it, cutesy things? Genos can count at least 4 anime figurines on the TV stand, and the pink apron Saitama wore while making breakfast wasn’t hidden very well either. And on the balcony, there’s a children’s watering can.

As Genos looked out the giant window, he saw his host running down the street. Maybe he isn’t a government official. But still… There’s no information or anything of value to take from this guy, so there’s no use in getting close to a random person.

Saitama’s morning run has been good and uneventful for the last few days. Probably because he’s changed his run to go into the more populated side of town. Monsters don’t typically attack crowded places anymore. But today was an exception. He slowed to a walking pace by the shops to look for any sale signs when the ground started shaking. People started screaming and running as the shaking turned to a quake, and the earth cracked and broke to pieces.

Emerging from the splintered ground was a beast. A towering monster with giant quills like a porcupine and a face like a mole. It roars and uses a giant, flat paw to strike down a restaurant. Its scream was shrill and ear piercing, sending Saitama’s hands up to his head to try and protect his eardrums. A warning siren comes from the speakers all around the city,

“A monster is attacking City Z, threat level Tiger. A monster is attacking City Z… ” It repeats over and over again.

"What the... fuck?" He’s stuck, frozen by shock and fear alike. As heroes respond to the call and attempt to de-escalate the situation, the monster’s quills ready for attack. Saitama finally finds the means to start running when the pain begins. The quills shoot out in all directions, huge and fatal spikes make their marks all over the marketplace.

Saitama falls, clenching his shoulder. He looks up and behind him to see one of those deadly spikes just inches from where his head was. The tip is bloody. Saitama looks at his hand… Blood, lots of it. His shirt is torn, as well as the skin and muscle of his shoulder. He puts his hand back in place to hold the wound tightly and picks himself up. He can patch it up when he gets home, but he needs to make it out of here first.

The front door shuts gently, but it’s loud enough to catch Genos’ attention. He turns to the entryway, Saitama is drenched in sweat and breathing hard. That’s when he noticed the shirt. Saitama is still holding his shoulder, but the blood has soaked into the white top. It’s completely ruined. Saitama staggers to the bathroom to patch himself up. The first aid kit is lacking, should probably get a new one soon. But there’s just enough gauze to nicely cover the wound.

He comes back to the living room to rest. Saitama turns on the TV and tries to calm down from the horrifying event he just endured.

There is no talking. No sound but from the television and the continuing whirring of those spider drones working on Genos. His right leg has been repaired already.

Saitama stays inside for the rest of the day, too terrified to even go to the balcony. He sets up his futon early and turns in for the night, leaving Genos to stay up again.

Today’s events have gotten the cyborg thinking. As Saitama sleeps, Genos takes this opportunity to take a closer look around the apartment, and around the town.

It’s empty, quiet, and cut off from the world…

Maybe this roommate situation will be better for him than he originally thought.

#opm #one punch man #genos #villain genos #saitama #powerless saitama #genosai #saigenos #eventually #fanfiction #writing #text post

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

22 Oct. Suptober: Birthday

"Dean," Cas whispered, gathering him up in his arms so carefully, "what is important about October thirteenth?"

post 15x18 au: deancas

Dean glanced at the calendar hanging near the stove again while stirring a pan of mac-n-cheese to keep the cheese from burning. And he frowned again at the square on the calendar that was labeled 13 in an orange font. October thirteenth. 

No-one had scribbled an appointment or reminder to pick up eggs or milk in the square, the kinds of notes marking other days. There was a tiny pumpkin drawn in one corner, but that was it.

"Intense vibes," Sam said, reaching over to grab the spoon for the baked beans off the spoon rest. 

"October thirteen mean anything to you?" Dean asked. "Like, is it an important date for some reason?"

Sam shrugged. "Not that I can recall."

At the kitchen table, Jack had finished putting cut up cherry tomatoes in four bowls of salad greens and Cas was stirring a dressing made from buttermilk and half a packet of ranch herbs. 

Jack futzed around with his phone. "Wiki says that's the day the Boston Red Sox won the first modern World Series championship."

"That does sound truly cursed," Sam said. He had Opinions about the Red Sox.

"Okay, but that's not why I keep thinking there's something I'm forgetting," Dean said. 

He started divvying out three normal sized portions of mac-n-cheese onto dinner plates and one miniscule portion onto the plate for Cas. 

"Well, it'll either come to you or it won't," Sam said, ferrying two plates to the table. 

"Yeah." Dean grabbed the other two and followed him.

Dinner was uneventful, until ten bites in when Dean remembered why the date had ever had any meaning to him whatsoever.

He didn't take an eleventh bite.

No one seemed to notice, or he thought they hadn't. He retired to bed by nine o'clock, curled up on his side like a big shrimp, and thought about pulling the blankets entirely over his head. 

Cas got into the bed before he could do that.

Dean laid perfectly still with his eyes closed and tried to breathe slow and shallow.

"Are you all right?" Cas asked softly, not fooled in the least. He inched closer and placed a kiss on Dean's eyebrow.

Dean didn't burst into tears. Explosive sobbing would've by its very nature flown away from his body, his crushed ribcage, his throat clogged with rushing leaves like a stream after a hard rain.

Every pain ringing through him at the moment was turned wholly inward, knives he held by the hilt ran through his own flesh until it seemed he might bleed to death.

"Dean," Cas whispered, gathering him up in his arms so carefully, "what is important about October thirteenth?"

"It's her birthday," Dean said, almost quaking with it. "Lisa's."

Cas drew in a breath deep enough to jostle Dean in the process. But his hand came up to cup the back of Dean's neck, protection warm as a woolen winter scarf.

Dean struggled to sit up and then made sure there was no daylight between him and Cas when Cas sat up too. The mattress dipped from them being wedged together in such a small spot.

"I don't miss her," Dean said, knowing Cas with his angel senses could see his eyes. "It's not…" He trailed off, abruptly lost on a forest path overgrown with scraggly trees and thorny vine.

"You loved her and Ben," Cas said, sounding sure, sounding sad.

"Not enough. If I'd loved them enough I would've never showed up on her doorstep before, um. When we were trying to save Sam from Lucifer." Dean let a tear drip down his cheek and chased it away with his knuckles roughly. "Except."

Cas tucked his hand into Dean's and waited. 

"Thing is, might've been Chuck," Dean said, miserable knots in his stomach. "I can't-- We barely knew each other, and I envied her life so badly, and yeah she was beautiful and hot and Ben was a great kid but it isn't like I laid awake at night dreamin' of them. Not more than any idle daydream. But I showed up at her door outta nowhere and said a bunch of insane shit and then when Sam--" His voice cracked. "I went back and she didn't even blink?"

"Sometimes you have a tremendous inability to understand why people love you," Cas said. "And that isn't me defending anything Chuck may or may not have done; I'm simply pointing out a fact."

Dean squeezed his hand. "I'm not saying-- That year I was so fucked up, man. No, I don't know to what extent Chuck had anything to do with any of it. I'm not trying to take the blame off myself--"

"Good, because I'm as much to blame as anyone--"

"No--"

"Dean, I betrayed you and Sam. Crowley came after Lisa and Ben because of me." Cas's voice broke on the last few syllables.

"Listen, no, no." Dean thumbed away the couple of tears he could see sketching down Cas's face now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he marveled for a second at how much more emotion Cas let show on a regular basis. "I forgave you. This isn't about any of that, really."

Cas blinked against a few more tears that fell. "Then what--"

"I missed you," Dean said, feeling the truth of it well up in him and fill him to the brim. "That year Sam was gone. I was tryin' to find a way to get him back without Lisa finding out. Okay. That's who I was, and am. Sam's hurt, I gotta fix it. Sam made me promise, so okay, I stayed with Lisa and I tried. I tried, Cas, I swear I did."

Cas nodded.

"But all that,” Dean said. “That was… I mean, from here, lookin' back, it's nuts. At the time, though, it was just what I would do. It made sense in some way.

"And then there was you." Dean dipped his forehead against Cas's temple.

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, tipping his head in confusion. "I was in heaven."

"Yeah, man. I know." Dean sighed with a little exasperation at himself. "That's the kicker. Chuck brought you back, you went back to heaven, like anyone would. I was supposed to be happy, or happy enough, anyway. Lisa and Ben and a nice house in the suburbs and golf on the weekends. We had cookouts with neighbors and took photos where we looked like normal people. I helped Ben with homework and mowed the freakin' lawn.

"And I wasn't supposed to miss you like I did, so I tried very, very hard not to." Dean ignored his burning eyes. "Sometimes it worked. These long stretches -- wouldn't think about you at all."

Cas looked stricken. Heartsick. 

"But other times." Dean shook his head. "One time, it'd been maybe a week or somethin'. I raked up a shitload of leaves, nice autumn day; I go inside and go to the bathroom to wash my hands, and suddenly I thought about you and had to sit down on the floor. Took me out at the fucking knees. 'Don't pray to him, don't pray to him.'" 

Dean smiled a small, small smile. "See, all these years. Most of all these years, I should say, 'cause we've known each other a long time now, haven't we?"

Cas nodded, rapt, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I thought I was good at it: not thinking about you. Not praying to you, or wishing you were around. Not keepin' a running tally in my brain of all the shit I wanted to talk to you about next time I saw you, or movies to show you or, I don't know, just random things to tell you, pop culture and how to be human shit." Dean's throat was sore as strep. "Not replaying stuff we'd already talked about. Not thinking about how much I wanted to just be near you, know you weren't hurt." His voice went shaky. "What I really got good at was missing you. That's-- Expert level, here. Maybe my one true skillset."

Cas looked like he didn't know how to begin to respond, other than tucking himself into Dean and wrapping his arms around him.

Dean wasn't crying so much as pulling out the knives and throwing them clear of himself. What he'd come to want most in the world was something he'd believed he couldn't have -- for years thought that, for years wounded himself with the crooked edge of it -- but he was holding in his arms his most beloved friend, his dearest love, and the thankfulness he felt would've knocked him off his feet again if he hadn't already been sitting down.

Not for the first time, he said goodbye to Lisa and Ben. He'd let them go before; each time was easier than the last. 

He pressed a kiss into the top of Cas's head. "I'm so glad you're here now," he whispered. "I'm so glad you're home."

Cas's voice was muffled by Dean's chest when he said, "I hope Lisa had a nice birthday last week."

Dean almost chuckled. "Yeah. So do I."

Cas tightened his arms and raised his face, met Dean halfway to a kiss that started soft, nearly timid, and left them both breathing hard. "I love you," Cas whispered, Dean's head in his hands.

Dean set to the task of answering him, and neither of them slept for many more hours.

#suptober21 #spn #deancas #fic #destiel #suptober

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Sapling of His Labors

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford hummed an old tune to himself as he worked on dinner. Rather than sitting in front of a fire-pit in the middle of nature, butchering food to make it edible, he was blessed to be standing in a humble kitchen with a stove, cabinets, counters, and everything. The only thing he didn’t have was a fridge or freezer, but that was okay. Ford worked calmly and at his own pace as he chopped up the onion, blinking the burning feeling away, and he used his knife to scoop the diced pieces of onion into the hot skillet, and it sizzled and immediately smelled good.

Ford smiled as he added the green bell pepper, and other delicious things from the garden, and then he gave the veggies and herbs a stir with his hand-carved wooden spoon. Estimating that dinner would be ready soon, he walked across the kitchen, through the living room with a fireplace, two rocking chairs, and a large homemade three-way desk with two chairs, and to the front door. 

The top half of the dutch door was already open, so he leaned against the bottom half of the door to watch his little girl run around with other kids her age, playing tag. “Mabel, honey, dinner!” He called. “Will you please bring some water when you come?”

“Okay!” Mabel called back cheerfully, and Ford trusted her to end the game soon and say goodnight to her friends as he went back to dinner.

The veggies were cooking well, so Ford threw some of Mabel’s special homemade butter into another pan, let it melt, and then he carefully laid two filleted fish down to cook.

The bottom half of the dutch door opened and Mabel came in with a bucket of water from their well. She grinned at the sight of him and sat the bucket down to use a ladle to pour some water into wooden cups. “Ms. Mahogany asked about you again.”

“Oh?” Ford raised an eyebrow at her, his smile still present.

“Yeah, I told her how just last night you told me you were lonely and only wanted someone to hold at night…”

Ford barked a laugh that Mabel joined in with, but she continued as she set the table. “Then she said her son is still single if…”

“Mabel, please!” Ford guffawed with rosy cheeks as he flipped the fish. “I wish you would stop trying to set me up with everyone in town.”

“But I’m a great matchmaker!”

“I know you are. Why not focus on someone else’s love-life?” Ford suggested as he began to plate the veggies.

“I don’t really care about everyone else’s love-life.” Mabel said with a shrug as she sat.

Ford snorted as he platted the fish on top of the veggies, one plate slightly smaller than the other.

“Well, not nearly as much as I care about you.” Mabel elaborated, and smiled sweetly at her uncle as he turned to set the food at the table. “I just want you to be happy, Grunkle Ford.”

The old man was a bit surprised by this, but he smiled softly and said, “I am happy, darling.” He sat the plates and himself down where they belonged, then patted his lap. “Come here.”

The girl didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap and let him hug her. “I’ve got you.”

“Yeah, but imagine how much happier you’d be if you had me and a partner!” Mabel said optimistically.

Ford chuckled and brushed her shoulder-length hair with his six fingers. “Sweetie, I’m much happier now than I ever thought I would be.”

Mabel grinned at him and hugged him around the neck, allowing Ford to squeeze her gently and hug her back.

A little while later they sat by the fireplace, Ford in his rocking chair, and Mabel by his socked feet, propping her back against his leg as she knitted away. Ford used to tease her and wonder why he even built her a rocking chair, but once she explained she felt more comfortable against him, he let it go. Maybe next time they go to the store, he should trade fish for fabric so he can build a couch.

The eldest read a book out-loud while Mabel knitted, their favorite thing to do in the evening, when all they had for light was the fireplace and lanterns and the stars, but there were no stars tonight. Rain peacefully trickled down outside. They left the dutch door open to enjoy the smells and sounds and cool air, not a hint of a storm in sight.

Ford was enjoying the book, but not nearly as much as he enjoyed looking down at his beautiful girl. The sounds of her needles clicking as she worked, the way her brown eyes twinkled, the blush on her round cheeks, the shine in her hair. Ford had no idea what in the Multiverse he did to deserve her… No, he didn’t deserve her, but he was still grateful for her, and beyond happy he somehow managed to give her a happy life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was very excited, too excited to let his little girl sleep in too much. True that he purposely got up early to get the eggs, milk the cow, and let the sheep out for her, but he decided to surprise her earlier rather than later, so he made her some pancakes and eggs, squeezed her some fresh orange juice, put a pretty flower on the tray for decoration, and tucked the present wrapped in parchment and card under his arm.

A soft knock alerted Mabel of company, and her door opening and a warm voice fully woke her up. “Mabel, honey,”

She grinned and sat up in her bed. Ford had no regrets. All his hard work was worth it for that smile. “Happy Birthday.”

Mabel was absolutely delighted by the sweet surprise, but a bit disheartened when she saw no plate for her uncle. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him, still too used to his bad habit of skipping meals so she could eat. Well, he didn’t have to do that anymore. “Grunkle Ford, where’s your breakfast?”

Ford smiled and chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s all fixed and downstairs waiting for me.”

Mabel smiled again and said, “Why don’t you eat up here with me? Then I’ll open my present!”

Ford nodded. That seemed like an even better idea than eating separately. So Ford retrieved his mug of coffee and pancakes, and when he sat at the foot of Mabel’s bed, she opened the card. There was no glitter to decorate it with and the card wasn’t nearly as colorful as Mabel would have made it, but Ford still drew plenty of pretty pictures for her and wrote plenty of kind words, and more importantly, he made it just for her.

Mabel grinned and thanked him for the card, sitting by her nightstand and candle so she could see it every day, and then she tore into her present. She gasped happily and squealed at the gift. Mabel had seen Ford sew here and there, but she didn’t know this was what he was working on.

It was a large quilt. It had many different patches, some with colors, some with pictures of animals, one with a shooting star and one with a six-fingered hand. There were so many different patches that Mabel felt she could look and look without seeing every detail.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I asked everyone in town if they had scraps of cloth. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but you deserve something nice, and…”

“Grunkle Ford, I love it!” And Mabel let her new quilt fall on her lap so she could hug him tightly around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll use it forever! I love you, thank you!”

Ford chuckled and hugged her back tightly. “Y-You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t much, but it was better than what he could have done for her before.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care how sharply branches pricked his face or how many times he stubbed his toe on a rock or tree root. The screaming rang in his ears. Mabel needed him.

He was grateful to find Mabel up in a tree, safe, but not for long. At the base of the tree was a giant black bear, roaring and growling and scratching the tree. It wouldn’t be long until the bear decided to try to climb. Ford gritted his teeth and allowed instincts to take over, animal vs animal.

Ford threw a rock and it hit the bear on the neck, making it forget the human cub in the tree and turn to the adult to roar warningly. Then Ford shot his crossbow and it hit the bear right in the shoulder, close to the chest, but not quite enough to kill it, only to anger it. Mabel screamed for Ford to run away, to get away, but Ford stood his ground as the bear charged at him and he rolled out of the way just in time, then shot the bear again, this time hitting it’s back.

The bear turned and roared at Ford, and he was prepared to pull the knife out of his boot and do some real damage, tired of giving warnings that the bear wasn’t hearring. But then something made everyone freeze. A small wheezing roar. A squeak from a cub. The little baby black bear ran out from the bushes and to its mother, who nuzzled the cub with her nose and stood protectively. Ford lowered his crossbow and nodded. Mabel must have accidentally stumbled across the cub, must have gotten too close, and the mother was being overprotective.

The mother roared once more at the humans and ran off into the woods with her cub, taking the arrows lodge in her with her. Well, good. That’s what she gets for going near Ford’s niece. Speaking of…

Ford turned to the tree and looked up at the frightened girl. “Mabel, are you hurt?”

“N-No. I’m okay.” Mabel looked at the spot where the bears disappeared and bit her lip. “I… I didn’t even see the baby one…”

Ford smiled and nodded. “It’s alright. You’ll find parents are quite protective of their kids. Can you climb down?”

Mabel nodded and carefully made her way down the tree. When she was about halfway down, she leaped into Ford’s arms and they hugged each other tightly, the crossbow still in Ford’s hand.

“Oh, Mabel, I was so worried…”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…”

“Shh, hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad.”

“I thought you… I thought…” Mabel mumbled into his shoulder, her grip on his coat extremely tight.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ford muttered to her as he walked them home. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford walked home from the ocean, smiling with the large net filled with fish on his back. Mabel was with the sheep, as usual, and smiled and waved when she saw his safe return. The leaves were changing colors and the air was getting more comfortable and crisp. Soon winter would be with them, and rather than fish for money, Ford planned to build music boxes and carve toys, a brilliant idea Mabel had when she noticed how he missed tinkering and building. He enjoyed fishing, but it wasn’t like the old lab work that made him proud.

The next day, like always, Ford walked home and saw Mabel among the sheep, but this time she was chatting with a boy her age. Ford had seen the boy before, Mabel labeling him as a friend, but the old man couldn’t help but wonder if he should be putting money away for a small wedding, a thought that made his blood boil and his heart swell at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford gave the soup another stir before ladling it into a bowl. Poor Mabel sat on the newly built couch, wrapped in her quilt, close to the fire, her cheeks and nose cherry red and dark circles under her eyes as she sneezed and coughed. Ford wasn’t as worried for her as he normally would be; it was just a bad cold. She would be alright. 

Weirdly enough, Mabel’s brain had decided to call it quits and she was nothing more than a rag doll, barely interactive and aware of her surroundings, which was fine by Ford. He could take care of her and the house just fine. He smiled softly and sat next to her, holding out a spoonful of warm soup for her. “Here you are, my dear. This will make you feel better.”

Shakily Mabel ate the bite she was given, but it burned and made her cough roughly. Ford rubbed her back and stirred the soup to cool it down a little. “That's it, easy does it. There we go, I’m sorry, sweetie.”

The second time was the charm; Mabel was able to swallow a second spoonful of warm soup no problem. She actually made a weak smile, then muttered to Ford, “Thanks Daddy,” and coughed roughly into her quilt. She patiently waited for her next spoonful, unaware of what she had done to Ford.

She had said it so innocently, so quietly… Was it possible, that in her weakened state, Mabel thought she was back home with her father? Even though she seemed out of it, she did seem aware of where they were; a few minutes ago, when Ford was making the soup, she had asked if the sheep were put away. And she had thanked Ford for making the soup when he first started on dinner. So, maybe, there was a small possibility that Mabel knew exactly who she was talking to, and she articulated with a title that felt fitting to her.

Ford smiled with a bit lip and held out the spoon filled with soup for her. “Y-You’re welcome.”

He smiled sympathetically as she sniffed again, her poor sinuses turned against her. But then she sniffed again, louder, and Ford began to notice it sounded different…

He also began to notice he was sore. And lying down. And wrapped up, like he was tucked in for bed.

Ford was pulled from his dreams and was sluggishly half-awake, his eyes still closed, and he bought his body some time to gather some strength by paying attention to his blind surroundings.

He could hear and feel a fire going. He was lying in a sleeping bag on the ground, and he could tell there were other things keeping him warm and wrapped up. Some damp cloth was on his forehead. And he could hear crying.

Ford forced his eyes open slowly and he discovered someone had taken his glasses off. He forced himself to work with his blurry vision and he sat up a little, leaning on his arm for support in search of his niece. She sat a few feet away, in a tight bundle. If Ford had to guess, she was hugging her knees and hiding her face in her arms and knees. “Mabel…”

She lifted her head up quickly, but then hid her face again, looking away from him and wiping her face dry with the sleeves of her coat. 

“Hey, no,” Ford said softly, taking the damp cloth off his forehead. “None of that, you don’t ever have to hide anything from me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No,” Mabel cleared her throat and finally turned to look at him; he was a little disheartened to see her trying to smile and still hide what was bothering her. “I’m okay. H-How do you feel? Tea is almost ready.” And she scooted closer to the fire on her knees to check on the teapot.

Ford sighed tiredly, his lips tight to try to keep her from hearing it. “Mabel…”

“Oh, here!” Mabel reached into a pocket of her uncle’s backpack and pulled out his glasses for him. “I thought I’d better take them off you so your face wouldn’t hurt.”

Ford smiled and accepted the visual aid. “Ah, thank you.” He slipped his glasses on and more clues came to his senses.

They were in the middle of the desert. Well, not entirely in the middle, it looked like there was a jungle a few yards behind them. Ford had also been blanketed with sweaters for extra warmth in the cold desert night. Everything seemed well in order and normal, except when Ford looked at his poor little girl. Her hair was a mess, frizzled and… Ford recognized that hairstyle. His hair often looked like that after he grabbed at it too roughly and tried to pull his hair out. There were dark circles under her eyes, eyes that didn’t sparkle. That legitimately scared Ford.

“Mabel…”

“Good! Tea is ready.” Mabel turned away from him again, refusing to look at him as she pulled out a cup for her uncle and poured him some hot drink. “Here, it’ll make you feel better.”

Ford accepted the drink and sat up fully. “Thank you.” He sipped it and watched Mabel carefully. She didn’t pour herself a cup. Or bring out the water canteen for something else to drink. Instead she held her knees and watched the fire dance. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright, but she beat him to it.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? H-How’s your neck?”

“My neck?” Ford touched his throat, a bit confused, and answered, “I feel fine. Nothing hurts. Why?”

“We were ambushed. You got shot. You… You had a bad fever and wouldn’t wake up.” Mabel, still refusing to look at him, held out a dart to him that had been lying on the sand. “Here. I thought you might wanna study it.”

Ford adjusted his glasses and held the dart. It was quite long, but very skinny, and it had a red bull point at the top, like a sewing needle, but Ford recognized the dart. “Interesting. These are Hummie darts. They’re sold through the dimensions, they’re very useful for bounty hunting. See, the top here is filled with poison, just enough to render the body useless and to also hypnotize the target in a deep, dream-filled sleep. Oftentimes the dreams are the victim’s happiest memories or goals, so they won’t try to wake up. It’s also very fascinating because the side-effects are next to none, this makes these darts ideal if you want to bring someone in for questioning or for next-to-perfect condition.”

But Mabel wasn’t listening. Her eyes were still on the fire, she was still holding her knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Ford watched her mournfully and tried to remember what had happened.

Oh. Right.

They were in a different dimension than this one. They had been laughing and playing in the woods, unaware of who they were attracting. By the time Ford hoisted a laughing girl on his shoulders, a dart barely missed him and it hit a tree, causing him to run while Mabel shot pop-rocks with her slingshot. Ford can now remember feeling a tiny prick by his neck. He had hoped Mabel had accidentally pinched or pulled some skin on his neck, but she was horrified to have let a dart get past her. Ford managed to stop running and put Mabel down safely, shaking his head and even slapping himself to try to stay awake and attentive, but just as he was sharing a plan with her, he fell on his knees and collapsed into the grass, the last thing he heard was Mabel’s desperate please to be okay. Not to stay awake, not to help, but to be okay.

Ford put the dart and his tea down on the ground. “Oh, Mabel… You were amazing. Absolutely amazing! You saved us. You saved my life.”

“M-Maybe if I hadn’t asked you to play with me…”

“They were relentless. I’m glad we had fun and played.”

Mabel held herself tighter and turned her head away so it was out of sight. That broke Ford’s heart. What he wouldn’t give for her to just look at him. Had he done something? Had he scared her? He had heard that while under the influence of the Hammie darts, the body is as useless as a ragdoll, but… Oh. Maybe that had scared her. Mabel had no way of knowing what the darts did, she had no idea what kind of poison they were filled with. Did she refuse to look at Ford because when she did all she saw was the shadow of a dead man?

“Mabel,” Ford croaked longingly, and he opened his arms. “Please come here.”

Mabel was trembling. She sniffed again and swallowed a sob down.

She was a Pines, after all. She was going to be stubborn. So Ford scooted himself and the sleeping bag and pile of sweaters. He carefully began to scoop her up, but she finally broke and turned and hugged him around the neck, sobbing into his shoulder and allowing him to hold her close and burrow her in his arms and sweaters and sleeping bag.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright now.” Ford petted her hair and closed his eyes, giving everything he had into making her feel better. “I’m okay, I swear. You did an incredible job.”

“I thought… I thought…” Mabel croaked and swallowed to try to communicate better. “Y-Your eyes… they rolled! Into… y-y-you looked d…” And she choked and sobbed and held him so tightly her fingers ached, but she didn’t care.

Now Ford had never heard of that side-effect before. “Oh, Mabel, honey…”

“I k-k-know you’re okay now… I know… but I th-th-thought I was g-gonna lose you!” Mabel cried out, her throat sounding like it was going to tear in half. 

“I’m sorry…” Ford cooed to her and adjusted her so she laid by his heart and he felt her hands. Holy Moses, she was so cold. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I love my little starshine too much to be anywhere else.”

Mable hiccuped a weak giggle and she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “I love you, too, D-Grunkle Ford.”

Yup. Ford wasn’t shedding tears alongside her. No. A raindrop must have fallen on his cheek. On a cloudless night. Yeah, that was it.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #drifting stars au #fanfiction #MORE SWEATER-TWINS BONDING #clownwry #gift

[tearsofsyrup]

peckish

— It’s Seungkwan’s birthday and you want to surprise him with breakfast in bed. But when he wakes up, there’s a different kind of hunger rumbling in his stomach.

pairing. boo seungkwan / female reader

genre. established relationship au; non-idol au; fluff; smut

word count. 2k

warnings. brief sexually explicit content; domestic af; blonde kwan-ah, now with glasses; poorly proof-read

notes. (belated) happy birthday, uri boo. i wasn’t sure whether to post this or not but here we are and here you go! feedback is ardently appreciated!

-

It isn’t often that you find yourself awake before Seungkwan. But your subconscious must have known that today is special. Not that it makes awakening any easier.

Eyes barely open and limbs stirring sluggishly beneath the duvet, you glance towards your boyfriend. His hair is nothing short of messy against the pillow, recently dyed a warm blonde that you won’t admit exactly how much you enjoy on him. A natural pout puckers his lips, emphasized by how his one cheek is squished beneath him. His skin shines with a golden tan under the shy rays of this morning’s sun. Slow, relaxed breaths leave his nose and you can faintly feel them graze your face. It makes you smile.

But you need to get up before those eyelids of his creak open.

You've always wondered why your body feels ten times heavier when getting out of bed, as if an invisible force is begging you to stay put. And it’s a tempting notion to give in to, despite it only being forged by your own mind. However, the unfortunate nature of breakfast is that it doesn’t cook itself. Not even on birthdays.

So, you rise, the heel of your hand rubbing one eye while the other tries to stay open, balance off as you stand. You don’t bother looking for a pair of pants, aware that you only have so much time before the peace of an asleep Seungkwan will run out, and wander around the bed on wobbly legs and only half your vision with nothing but a pajama shirt and panties on.

You make sure not to stumble into the closed door of Vernon’s room as you pass it, rounding the corner into the kitchen with a long yawn. Eyes blinking tightly and frequently, they scan the poverty of your fridge, not containing much other than an almost empty carton of milk, leftover pizza from a week ago and two bottles of ketchup because Vernon accidentally bought an extra one. And the eggs and bacon you sneaked in yesterday.

As you begin preparing Seungkwan’s meal, you try not to make too much of a racket, in an effort to keep your boyfriend unknowing, even when you accidentally hit your head against the cupboard door that you have a bad habit of leaving open. But it seems to be either that or the fact that you might have jumped with a vocal yelp when the frying pan unexpectedly spit hot oil on your hand, that coaxes consciousness into Seungkwan before breakfast is ready. Because you think you can hear faint footsteps through the hissing heat that your poking with a spatula.

Your lips are already pursed when Seungkwan clears his throat of some post-slumber grogginess.

“Shit, go back to sleep!” You haven’t even turned to look his way before you speak, tone chalky from lack of use and eyes focused on positioning the bacon in a needlessly neat order.

Seungkwan snorts. “That didn’t sound like ‘good morning, honey’ to me.” His voice is even more gritty than yours, something he also seems to notice as he begins clearing his throat again.

You scoff, throwing him a scornful look past your shoulder, secretly delighted by the sight of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Like you violently shaking me out of bed while trying to shove vitamins down my throat every day is a form of ‘good morning, honey’.”

Coincidentally though not surprisingly, he is reaching for his bottle of vitamins as you finish speaking. “It’s not my fault you can’t wake up on your own,” he protests, filling a cup with water. “And vitamins are important.”

You try not to roll your eyes too far back into your head when you resume monitoring the bacon. “Anyway, I was gonna make you breakfast in bed, so go back to sleep.”

Seungkwan gulping down his vitamins sounds from behind you and when you turn your head, there is curiosity in the look he gives you. Your focus shifts back ahead as he comes closer. He sniffs from beside you, eyeing the pink strips of meat.

“You’re not burning down my kitchen, are you?” That earns him a side-eyed glare.

“Hey, three people own this kitchen, actually.”

“Ha! When have you ever seen Vernon make anything except cup noodles?”

The lower of your lips juts outward in a pout, unable to argue with that point. But you struggle to maintain the expression wholeheartedly when Seungkwan smiles, brown eyes dripping with amusement before you. You look away, the corners of your mouth itching.

“Breakfast in bed?” he recalls.

“Mhm.”

“What for?”

You huff a laugh. “Shut up. Go sleep.”

Seungkwan giggles, moving away toward the electric kettle. “Eggs and bacon in bed? Could get grease stains on the sheets.”

“Then stop eating like a child or put a bib on.”

Seungkwan makes a sound of offence and his eyes are wide and accusatory behind the large lenses of his glasses when you twist your neck to shoot him a victorious grin. He scoffs, shaking his head before filling the kettle with water.

“No need to roast me. I’m not a piece of that bacon, you know...”

“Pfft.” Your eyes roll again, the bacon in question slowly turning crisp.

Seungkwan meets you with a low-lidded glance. “You shouldn’t be so mean. Especially on my-”

“No, shhh! Not yet, go back to sleep!”

Seungkwan’s laugh is hearty then, while you keep yourself from being infected by it. He turns the kettle on, placing two mugs on the counter next to it before turning and leaning back with loosely crossed arms.

You squint at the pursed smirk he gives you. “You’re not making coffee, are you?”

His eyebrows jump upward. “I am... Like every other morning.”

You exaggerate the deflation of your posture, pout thrice as dramatic as earlier. “But, you can’t go back to sleep if you’re all caffeinated...”

“Well, I’m not gonna fall back asleep either way, baby,” he says with a grin, the curve of his cheekbones rising higher and accentuating the charming arch of his smiling eyes.

With a heavy drop of your head, you huff. Your plan has officially failed. Staring at the darkening bacon feels demeaning, one hand landing on your forehead where it banged against the cupboard door.

A sudden weight settles atop your right shoulder, making you jump a little before realizing it’s Seungkwan’s chin. The warmth of his chest engulfs your back through the fabric of both of your shirts and makes you realize that you are cold with your bare legs out. He peers over you, watching the sizzling bacon below.

“Sorry, baby. For ruining your plan.”

Your free shoulder shrugs. “It’s fine. Isn’t it the thought that counts?”

He chuckles softly, warm in your ear. “Right.”

Seungkwan’s heat leaves you as he goes to handle the water that’s boiled and you try not to shiver, beginning to lift the now crisp strips of bacon onto a paper towel. While Seungkwan prepares coffee, you reach for the eggs, needing both hands to crack them safely into the frying pan.

You watch Seungkwan with a secret glance, quietly admiring the sharp corner of his jawline and the soft slope of his nose. When he catches you, you admire the smile that grows across his lips too.

No more words are exchanged in the comfortable silence between you, until Seungkwan has placed two cups of coffee on the counter next to the stove and his chin is back in your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his warm body and decide not to comment on what you can feel is left of his morning wood against your backside. Seungkwan’s palms run softly over your bare hips and you shudder at the contrasting temperature.

“Why aren’t you wearing any pants, babe? It’s cold,” he murmurs, voice gentler next to your ear.

“I was too tired to care.” You poke slightly at the sunny-side-ups.

“Want me to go get you some clean ones?”

A small smile creeps its way up the corners of your mouth. “What, you don’t like me half-naked?”

Seungkwan laughs. “I like it a little too much, I think.”

With a quirked brow, you wonder if it isn’t a case of morning wood after all.

“I see,” you start. “In that case, I think I’m happy just like this.”

Seungkwan snickers quietly, arms lifting to curve around your waist and hold you tighter against him. Bulge poking at your lower back, he hums a soft melody you cannot place as he watches you move the cooked eggs onto a clean plate and push the pan away from the stove. In an attempt to escape Seungkwan’s embrace, you wiggle a bit and receive a long sigh that brushes across the skin of your neck in return. But he doesn’t relent, simple moving the both of you over with a steadfast grip around you, making you laugh.

“Hey, breakfast in kitchen is ready,” you giggle.

“So, feed me,” he says, grin apparent through his tone.

For a third time, your eyes roll upward, yet you oblige and cut a piece of bacon and eggs for your boyfriend before lifting it into his mouth. He chews it next to your ear, humming with content.

“Wow,” you smirk, arms resting over Seungkwan’s where they hug your stomach. “It’s like live ASMR.”

Seungkwan chuckles. “Thank you, baby. It tastes great.” A sweet kiss is puckered against your cheek.

You twist your neck to meet his face, snuggling into him like he’s a blanket covering you. His eyes meet yours through his glasses and he smiles, wide and pretty, thumbs rubbing against the soft fabric of your shirt. You lean forward, placing your mouth over his and moving it slowly. He reciprocates easily, adding more pressure and quickly turning the kiss more fervent. You feel him hardening behind you, causing a familiar heat to begin aching within the confines of your underwear.

It is first when his fingers sneak up to begin unbuttoning your pajama shirt that you detach your lips from his, lids heavy over your eyes as you watch him. He dives downward and starts pecking and licking at your neck instead.

“Kwannie,” you say with a hushed tone, hand gripping Seungkwan’s wrist weakly. “What if Vernon wakes up?”

Seungkwan huffs into your skin, breath warm. “He won’t,” comes his mumble. “Unless you bang about, like earlier.”

You unsuccessfully suppress a disdainful grunt. “Fuck, I did wake you up when I walked into that damn cupboard door again...”

Your boyfriend grins against you before lifting his head, too amused with the pout you sport. “I’m just teasing, baby. I was already awake by then.”

His giggles are met with disappointed glare. “Bully...”

A quick peck tickles your nose. “Is your head okay, though?”

You shrug. “I’ll live.”

And that is when you notice that your shirt is completely unbuttoned, Seungkwan’s gentle touch pulling it open before placing warm palms over your breasts. You sigh, thighs subconsciously tightening to try and relieve the increasing heat between them.

“Since your first plan didn’t work,” Seungkwan whispers against the shell of your ear and you lean into his erection behind you, “how about we do something else for my-...” Your eyebrows jump at his pause. “Wait, can I say it yet?”

A happy guffaw escapes you, meeting his round eyes with a delighted grin. Gripping his wrist, you guide his slender fingers beneath the cotton of your panties and watch his pupils dilate in real time, his eyelashes dancing with the ends of fluffy, blonde hair. Your hips tense when his skin meets your heat, sensitive with a need for attention.

“Yes, Kwannie,” you finally reply, biting your lip through your wide smile. “Happy birthday.”

...

Later, when the taste of Seungkwan’s release is coating your throat and your knees are aching, he asks if you want to take your vitamins yet. Your incredulous laugh is so loud that you are sure it makes even Vernon wake up.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen smut #seungkwan smut #seventeen scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seungkwan fanfic #seventeen fluff #seungkwan fluff #seventeen x reader #seungkwan x reader

[catxsnow]

CHRISTMAS MORNING D.G.

Request: I would like to request a soft Christmas morning with Dick where everything feels right. There's snow falling outside, nowhere to be and he's just get babied by his love, he deserves it.

Warning: fluff

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful day today! Sending my love to every single one of you :)

Word count: 1.4k 

Dick Grayson loved to spend Christmas mornings with you. From the moment that he woke up to the moment he went back to sleep - he loved the entire day with you. It was the only day of the year that it seemed he could go uninterrupted with you and he put good use to it too.

It was cold that year in Gotham. The snow that never seemed to end, frigid winds that always had you pulling him a little closer at night for warmth. Christmas day was no different. Snow fell from outside your apartment's windows. Dark, gray skies allowed for your small tree to shine bright in the cramped space.

The presents that were once perfectly wrapped under the tree were scattered around the living room. Dick, as always, managed to find a way to spoil you. He didn't care about the value of the gifts, just the sentiment behind them. Besides, being with you was all that he could really ask for.

Some cheesy Christmas movie played on your TV, but at the moment your attention was solely on Dick. He laid in your arms, snuggled into the crook of your neck where his warm breath sent chills up your spine. Without even needing to see his face, you knew he had that loving smile plastered on it.

He was already half asleep once more. Between your fingers massaging at his scalp and the warmth of being in your arms he was ready for a nap again. It had been an early morning too, Dick had woken you up just past the crack of dawn with excitement of finally being able to give you the gifts he had been so desperately waiting for.

"We can go back to bed, babe," You chuckled as he hummed with content. The couch was far too small for the both of you but he still managed to trap you on it every other day. "You seem tired."

As if he wanted to defy you, Dick popped up. He no longer looked exhausted but rather full of energy once more. December always reminded him of his time with his parents and the circus. The extra bright lights, joyful music - not to mention there were always more people at their shows.

As hard as his first holiday season without them was, he was sure as hell glad to have you to enjoy them with now. Every year it brought out the kid in him and it was always great to see him filled with so much joy.

"Babe, if I go back to bed now we're not getting back up at all," Dick joked. He pecked your lips before climbing off of you completely. His hand extended to grab yours - and just to get the warmth of him back - you accepted. Dick twirled you around to the music playing from the TV.

He swayed you around the living room, one hand on your hip and the other enclosed in yours. After all the years of being in Bruce's home, Dick had perfected the art of slow dancing. As cheesy as it was, you were glad that he had the skill for moments like these. Just the two of you, and nothing but an intimate moment.

As the song came to an end, Dick dipped you. He brought your lips to his when pulling you back up. He tasted of the hot chocolate that he had made for you both earlier. "Pretty out there today, huh?" you asked. The snow fell in large flakes, covering everything in its path white.

"It is," Dick agreed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind so he too could appreciate the view. It wasn't much, but it was your home. "However, I'm far more glad to be here inside with you where we can be nice, warm, and cozy." He kissed the side of your face. The hoard of blankets on your couch proved that.

There was a plethora of blankets everywhere. Your living room, bedroom - hell there was even one in your kitchen half the time. Dick loved to pull you into him and cocoon the blankets around you both. He had you snuggled up against him that morning with three extra blankets covering you both.

He was stuck between wanting to get up and a deep desire to hold you for several more hours. After several kisses and promises that you were his for the whole day, he allowed you to get out of his arms and the intense warmth of your bed.

"Do you think I can pull off making Alfred's candy cane hot chocolate?" Dick asked, pulling you out of your thoughts of your morning with him.

As much as you loved him, whenever he tried to mimic a recipe of Alfred's it always ended in failure. However, you weren't particularly in the mood to visit the big bat and his manor that day - which meant one of two things: let Dick try to make it or get no hot chocolate at all.

"Give it your best shot, my love," you reluctantly agreed. Dick kissed your cheek once more and dragged you to the kitchen. The two of you rummaged through your cabinets to hopefully find the right ingredients to make it. Although it probably wasn't what Alfred used - Dick threw it all in a pot anyway.

His phone buzzed - probably a text from the big man himself. Dick asked you to check it as he (struggled) to make the drinks. Just as you expected, it was a text from Bruce wishing you both a Merry Christmas. You tossed one of the Santa hats resting beside you over to your boyfriend and put the other one on.

His chin rested on your shoulder and a huge grin was plastered on his face as you got ready to take a photo of you both. As soon as the flash of the camera was gone, Dick peppered your face with kisses. "Hey, come on. I'm trying to send this to Bruce," you giggled at his distraction. "Awe, look how cute we are."

"You're the one making us cute, babe."

"Oh shut up, Grayson," you rolled your eyes at his flirting. Before he could distract you again, you send the picture off and wished Bruce and Alfred a Merry Christmas back. Dick still rested against your shoulder, arms tightly around you. "I hope Damian likes the gifts we got him."

"He will," Dick assured. He was close with his youngest brother, and by that point, he knew that the new Cheese Vikings game was going to be the best gift he was going to get. Besides, Damian would love anything that came from either of you. "So will Bruce, and Alfred, and everyone else we bought for - now stop worrying. We're supposed to be enjoying today."

"I am," you spun around in his arms. Any moment with Dick was an enjoyable one - especially on days like those. You kissed him once more that morning, showing off your love for him in ways that words simply couldn't. "I love seeing you happy like this, you know."

"I'm always happy when I'm with you," Dick told you. He opened his mouth to speak once more but a smell had caused you to cut him off.

"Do you smell something burning?"

"The stove!" Dick panicked. He completely forgot that he had turned the stove up to high to get the hot chocolate heated. Lumps of melted chocolate stuck to the bottom of the pot and the milk that was in it was tinted dark from being overheated. As upsetting as it was that your drink was ruined - it came as no surprise. "This was not my fault! You distracted me."

Your mouth fell open in shock. Your fault? As if. "Look at that you've ruined Christmas, Dick," you joked. Dick set the pot back on the counter and reached his arms out to grab you. Thankfully, you expected him to pull this kind of move and ran out of the way just in time. You stood on the opposite side of the tiny island as him.

In one swift move, Dick leaped over the counter and captured you with ease. Your laughs echoed through the apartment. They stopped when Dick's playing ended and he pecked your lips.

"Don't worry babe, I know how to save our Christmas."

#dickgrayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson oneshot #dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing one shot #nightwing x reader #dc #dc imagine #dc one shot #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot #christmas imagine